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soramei · 3 years ago

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Intentional - Part 1

Pairing: Bang Chan x Reader (she/her)

Summary: Landing your first real job at JYPE was something short of a miracle. You were prepared to face the new struggles of this elusive career whilst moving to a new country, however, nothing could have prepared you for him. Will stolen glances, secret touches, and hushed nights spent in the recording room ever be enough for the both of you?

Genre: idol!bang chan au, forbidden relationship, coworkers to eventual lovers, slow burn

Warnings: none right now, eventual smut,

Word Count: 7.3k

Masterlist

A/N: hey yall this is my first ff im posting on tumblr :D im kinda scared to post but i hope anybody who stumbles on lil ol’ me will join me along the way :) also important!!! i made oc/reader asian cus i am lol (and this whole thing is basically a glorified self insert) so plz keep this in mind when reading!! oh god i didnt realize how slow this first part was sry...

The cold silence of the room felt like stabs at your inside. You commanded your feet to stop bouncing up and down as you unconsciously started to bite off the dead skin of your bottom lip. The white corporate light from above reflected off your brand new lanyard hanging delicately from your neck. You felt the coarse blue fabric rub against your neck as you mindlessly fiddled with your lanyard; the newly printed photo of your face stared back at you with a smile.

The creak of the door to your left was what broke you from your nervous fidgets. Whipping your head up from your lanyard, you immediately stood up ready to bow to whoever came through that door.

It was a girl. She looked around the same age as you, if not older. Her attire was what gave her away. Her appearance essentially mirrored yours: hair tied back into a ponytail with a white blouse and black work pants. She also had the familiar blue ‘JYPE’ labeled strap hanging from her neck.

“Hello,” you spoke meekly, scared to disturb the cold silence that had a hold on the room you were in.

“Hello,” she replied. “My name is Choi Na-eun, I’m the new social media strategist intern and today is my first day.”

This is so relieving, you thought, another newbie to share the stress with me.

“This is my first day too,” you perked up, “I’ll be starting as the new junior Chinese marketing assistant.”

Getting the acceptance email from JYP Entertainment was definitely a high point in your life. The feeling of butterflies swarming your insides as you clicked the email open only to see your acceptance was immediately locked as a core memory. All the years of memorizing thousands of Korean and English vocabulary flashcards, the panic attacks before your finance exams, and the many, many late night coffee breaks were worth it the moment you received your first legitimate job offer, and from the esteemed JYP Entertainment company no less.

“Chinese marketing?” Na-eun asked. “So you aren’t from here, I take it.”

You shook your head. “I am from China. I completed my degree a while ago with a major in Language and a minor in Business. To be honest, I’ve done internships back home, but it’s been my dream to move to a new country.”

All of what you said was true. Up until now, your surroundings have never changed in all of your twenty-three years living. From the walk with your grandmother to daycare to the vast campus of your university, the view of your city has never changed. Your social circle stayed stagnant since you were able to talk and your love life was — for a lack of a better word — uneventful.

It wasn’t until the day you decided to start applying for careers outside your home country that you felt hopeful. Hopeful that you could find an escape from your inert lifestyle and escape the burnout and stress that has been building up over the years. And so, on a day when you were feeling unusually confident, you gathered up the courage and spent hours sending out applications to organizations all over Asia that pertained to your specific degree. The applications were mainly for small jobs at small companies, however, your strange spike of motivation gave you the confidence to apply to the everso esteemed JYP Entertainment located in Korea. Of course you knew about this company — you and your friends played songs by ‘Twice’ nonstop back in highschool — but you didn’t realize the full power that this company had on the entertainment market until you did your full research. To say that you thought you had no chance was an understatement. This application was so far of a reach that you purposefully forced your mind to erase all memory of even applying.

However, with your education, your work experience, and whatever tiny bit of luck you had, you somehow made it through the initial application process. Then the next. And the next. Then the interview. And now, you were nervously sitting in this white painted room with Na-eun, in a completely new country, waiting for your manager to come greet you.

“So you’re from China? You’ve got to teach me chinese sometime.” Na-eun smiled.

You giggled in return while nodding your head. You were relieved that you’ve met a potential friend so early in your career in this company. This was one of your big worries. With your social circle being so stagnant for the majority of your life back in China, you rarely had the opportunity to meet new people, much less make new friends.

You were about to inquire more into Na-eun’s life when the door to your left abruptly opened. In the blink of an eye, three new people strutted in — two women and one man. They seemed to be higher status than you and Na-eun judging by their attire. All three were styled in some type of blazer and dress pants and there was no lanyard to be found on any of them.

“Hello new employees,” the man greeted. Judging by his face, he looked to be in his late thirties at the least. His hair was styled back neatly and his lips slanted up, giving him a fox-like appearance. “I am Executive Manager Kim. Joined beside me on the left is Social Media Manager An and to my right is Marketing Manager Chen.”

Both you and Na-eun immediately stood up to bow and introduce yourselves.

“Hello. My name is Choi Na-eun, I’m the new social media strategist intern.” Na-eun said.

“Hello. My name is y/n, I’m the new junior Chinese marketing assistant.” You repeated after her, copying exactly what she said. You did not want to screw anything up on your first day, especially your first impression.

Manager Kim reached over to Na-eun, introducing himself and giving her a firm handshake. He then slowly moved over to you, and reached for your hand.

“Y/n,” he gave time for your name to settle on his tongue as he gave a sly smile. “You’re not from here, aren't you?”

You shook your head ��no’. “No, sir. I’m from China where I studied language and business. I hope to do well here as the Chinese marketing assistant.” You replied, mentally cursing yourself for sounding so timid.

“I’m glad to hear,” Manager Kim chuckled, “I’m sure you’ll treat me and your other managers well.”

You felt an uncomfortable shiver pass through you as he brushed his thumb along your hand before letting go. This feeling was excused as nervousness, after all, this was your first day and your first time meeting your higher-ups.

You introduced yourself to Manager Chen, assuming that she would be the one you were to assist in your time here at JYPE. Judging by her last name, you presumed that she was Chinese as well.

“Forgive me for being so straight up Manager Chen, but are you Chinese?” You asked.

“That is alright, y/n,” she smiled, “I’m not. My Husband is, but I’ve lived in China for more than half my life. I don’t want to brag, but my mandarin has gotten proficient over the past decade or so.”

Proficient? It’s amazing. You thought. This first day was turning out better than you thought. Other than the weird feeling you received from Manager Kim, everything was turning out splendid. A potential friend and a manager that could speak your first language.

“Since it’s about noon right now,” Manager Kim took a look at his watch, “What do you all think about some lunch?”

The other managers nod their heads in agreement and gestures for you and Na-eun to follow them out of the waiting room you were in for so long.

The whole building seemed so clean. With every corner lit, by natural light or artificial light, you could clearly see that every room, every piece of furniture and decor had been purposefully placed. You couldn’t help but have a stupid look of awe plastered on your face as you mindlessly follow your superiors over to the cafeteria.

You turned your head over to Na-eun and gave her a tilt of the eyebrow, silently saying wow, this is where we work.

With the turn of a corner and several silent strides, your little group made it to the cafeteria.

The difference between your claustrophobic waiting room and this vast room was astonishing. With countless tables and romantic yellow lighting, this place almost resembled a five star restaurant. You’ve never seen a cafeteria as extravagant and clean as this before. However, to be fair, you’ve never had the experience of working with such a large corporation before.

The managers led you to the serving station where you grabbed yourself a tray and proceeded to spoon small portions of rice and side dishes onto your plate. This cuisine was different to what you were used to, but nonetheless looked delicious. You were prepared for the small cultural differences, especially with the food, but from everything you’ve witnessed so far, the culture shock would be easier to overcome than what you’ve anticipated.

“Have this soup y/n,” Manager Kim’s grating voice came from in front of you, interrupting your inner monologue. “It’s good for your complexion.”

As Manager Kim hands over the bowl of soup, you feel the sleeve of his blazer brush up against your shoulder, causing the pit of your stomach to drop.

First day nerves. That was what this feeling was. You thought.

You quietly thanked him with a small nod and walked briskly from the service line, trying to find where Na-eun went with the other two managers. Thankfully, they were just a step away and you quickly made your way over to the comfortable spot beside Na-eun. She gave you a small grin and you both followed your way to a table right in the middle of the room.

Soon, all five chairs of the table got filled and sounds of chopsticks tapping and scraping against plates and bowls filled your ears. An awkward silence dominates your table as you start to pick at your food.

“So,” Manager Chen cleared her throat, “after lunch I was thinking we should go to a meeting room and discuss Miss. Y/n’s role in our new project.”

“I was thinking the same for our new Intern Choi.” Manager An cut in, “What do you think, Manager Kim?”

“It all sounds good. I will be accompanying Manager Chen to her meeting room as I wish to also further discuss the preliminary steps for our project.” Manager Kim looked from Manager Chen over to you.

“Project?” You ask.

“We’ve had a very successful year with our idol groups and we wanted to ride this success and start marketing in China. Recently, we’ve noticed a very large and growing Chinese audience for this group. I’m sure you’re very curious now, however we can discuss further details once we are in the meeting room.” Manager Chen replies while taking a sip of the water in her glass.

Manager Chen appeared to be a very professional and respectable woman. With prominent collarbones and wide shoulders, she easily looked the part of a confident and adored manager. She needed minimal makeup to highlight her tall cheekbones, and even with a short heel on her feet she seemed to tower over you. However, her warm and comforting voice was what broke her intimidating demeanour. Just listening to her voice felt like you were back in your high school classroom with your favourite teacher explaining the motif of a sad love poem.

After some more awkward conversations mixed with a few work discussions, the five of you finished the delicious food on your trays.

“Please excuse me whilst I head to the restroom” Na-eun spoke up after your group finished clearing the table.

“Please excuse me as well.” You quickly followed, bowing as you both ventured off to the washrooms.

I should get her number so I’m not completely a loner in this place, you thought to yourself. And so, after a quick inner struggle to speak up, you finally decided to ask.

“Hey, should we exchange contacts? I don’t wanna look like the newbie eating in the cafeteria alone after today.” You chuckled.

“Totally!” Na-eun beamed. “I was actually thinking the same thing…”

And so, you both quickly exchanged each other's contact as you made your way to the restrooms.

The hall of the washrooms were narrow, hidden away from the main cafeteria. You walked in, deciding you only wanted to retouch your hair and makeup before your first official meeting. You carefully fix the loose hairs that somehow escaped the confines of your elastic and dab on a fresh layer of foundation before applying your lipstick which rubbed off while eating. Looking over at Na-eun, you see she’s quite in the zone redoing her mascara.

“Hey, I’ll just wait for you in the hall.” You said.

Na-eun gave you a disinterested nod back as she kept focusing on her mascara.

You walked to the end of the hall, leaned against the wall, and pulled out your phone. Smiling, you opened the virtual Tamagotchi app and saw your little friend staring back at you, bouncing up and down. The bundle of virtual pixels happily bounced as you fed and bathed it, making you happier in return. Playing this game, you were so entranced with your phone that the abrupt closing of the washroom doors broke you out of your hypnosis fast, causing you to flinch and drop your phone.

You looked up, only to see a brown haired man wearing a long sleeved black shirt. The hem of his sleeve fell, covering his hand as he bent down to pick up your phone. He stood back up, fully facing you now and you immediately recognized who he was. You weren’t a fool, of course you did all your research on the artists of JYPE before applying for the job. Looking down at you right now, holding your phone in his hand, was Bang Chan of Stray Kids.

The wispy tufts of his brown hair bounced over his forehead as he stepped over to you. He smiled, his dimple poking out of his cheek, and handed your phone back to you. “I think you dropped this.”

Blushing tomato red, you embarrassingly accepted the phone, trying not to make your shaking hands noticeable. It seemed like that failed, however, as you noticed him glance at your hands and dimple grow deeper.

“Thank you.” You meekly chirped and lowered your head, still in awe that you somehow bumped into a JYPE idol in the bathroom hallway of a cafeteria.

“It’s good that there’s no cracks.” Bang Chan said, looking in your eyes.

You looked back into his eyes. His smile never left his face, and you physically felt the warmth radiating off his body like rays from the sun. Some boring, objective part of your brain knew this interaction only lasted a fraction of a second, but you swore that time froze.

“Hyung!” A distant voice called.

Your trance was broken as Bang Chan looked over to the person calling his name. He turned back to you, politely bowed, and casually sauntered over to the man who called him.

What just happened? Your inner monologue ran, still trying to process the embarrassing interaction. The scent of his cologne lingered, swirling the atmosphere around your body.

Thankfully, you didn’t have too much time to dwell on this interaction as Na-eun finally opened the washroom doors and was making her way toward you.

You and Na-eun trailed behind the managers until you reached the set of elevators. It was there where you had to unfortunately separate from your comfort work buddy as she hopped in the elevator across from yours with Manager An. The other two managers led you to the elevator at the end and pressed the button for your destination floor. The ride in the elevator was silent. You stood there, fiddling with your nails.

Once the elevator gave the ding of arrival, the three of you headed down a hall where you presumed had the meeting room.

Manager Kim took a look at the watch on his wrist. “We are a minute late, everybody should be there already. Enter silently and respectfully.” He said in a stern voice.

You reached the frosted glass door of the meeting room and entered through the already opened door. The managers followed behind you with Manager Chen being the last one in and closing the door.

Your eyes widened at whom you saw.

There was Bang Chan, who sat in all his glory, staring right into your eyes with his mouth ajar. His shocked expression didn't last long, however, as he quickly composed himself to fit with the professional atmosphere of this room.

But why was he here? You thought. He’s an artist, isn’t this a management meeting?

Your inner monologue was broken by Manager Kim’s stern voice. “Y/n, why don’t you sit with me for today?” He asked with a slight tilt of the lips. His hand was hovering above your back, almost guiding you to the seat just right of the head chair.

Your heart rate quickened. There was no way that you could handle sitting right beside a high position manager on your first day. You barely knew what your duties entailed, you definitely could not handle the pressure of this seat today. You whipped your head around to look for Manager Chen. She was already sitting in her seat, looking like she was right at home.

“Manager Kim, if you don’t mind, I would like to sit in this position for today, '' a voice spoke up, “I have a lot of new ideas I’d like to share that are written in my notes.”

Bang Chan.

He paused a brief second, eyes switching between you and Manager Kim, and raised his iPad to show the screen filled with words.

“I don’t mind at all, go ahead.” Manager Kim monotonously replied. He then made his way to the head chair.

You looked over at Bang Chan, trying to subtly send the most grateful facial expression over to him. He returned your look, slightly grinning as his fingers tapped on the screen of his iPad and sat down to the right of Manager Kim. You looked over to see Manager Chen gesturing you to sit in the chair beside her and swiftly made your way over. At your seat, she handed you a notepad and pen, both adorned with the JYPE logo.

“Now, as of 1:02 p.m., September first, the meeting will officially begin.” Manager Kim clasped his hands together on top of the table. “As most of you already know, we are in the preliminary stages of planning a Chinese debut for our artist group ‘Stray Kids’. All we have right now is the estimated timeline, which is four months. We have a basic grasp of the concept we are working towards, however, as you all know, trends are always changing and growing. While we are working to create a new and original concept for Stray Kids, we also want the concept to gather as much audience reception as possible.”

Wow. That was a lot to take in. Your hands struggled to keep up with writing down what Manager Kim was saying. You knew this relatively new group was really starting to explode in the past year, but a debut in another country? This group must work really hard to even have the company consider a step as risky as this. So this is why Bang Chan is also involved in this meeting.

You peaked your head up from your notepad. Bang Chan sat across from you, one hand on his chin and the other one holding the pen to his tablet.

Manager Kim then carefully discussed the duties that each group in the room would take. Many of the jobs were directly involved with developing the concept itself, such as producing music, concept art, and theme development. Your pen never took a break from gliding on the notepad as you hurriedly jotted down everything that Manager Kim said.

Eventually, Manager Kim’s delegations moved to Manager Chen. “Manager Chen, I’ll let you take over from here.”

“Thank you Manager Kim,” Manager Chen cleared her throat. “While my main job here was to market Korean comebacks towards the Chinese audience, this new project changes things up a bit. Now, not only will I be in charge of marketing to the Chinese audience, but I will also be directly in charge of the concept itself. I will be working carefully with our team in China to monitor the trends which we can incorporate into our debut.

“This is my new assistant, y/n,” She turned and gestured to you. You politely nodded your head. “She will be gathering information on useful trends and reporting back to me, as well as some translating. Please report any ideas that you deem useful to her by the end of every week for her to sort through and deliver to me.”

You almost want to call Manager Chen crazy for giving you so much power, after all, you were only starting out as her assistant. Despite this, however, you were determined to go above and beyond with the new responsibilities given to you, after all, you knew that choosing to work in an organization as big as JYPE would take blood, sweat, and tears.

After some clarifications given by Manager Chen and a few more questions directed at her, Manager Kim took the reins back in his hands.

“Now, as I’m sure you all know, this is Bang Chan: the leader of Stray Kids. Although our management team is in charge of this debut, we like to include the opinions of artists whenever possible. He will make an appearance whenever he can and act as a representative of Stray Kids, sharing their ideas and opinions.” Manager Kim explained.

Bang Chan politely introduced himself, and quickly went on to express some concerns of his members. He made sure that each concern was answered thoroughly by Manager Kim before moving on to the next.

“As for our concept ideas,” Bang Chan’s soft brown eyes met yours, “will I have to report to y/n?”

You felt your ears redden.

“You could, yes,” Manager Kim straightened his back, “but if you find the weekly deadlines too much of a problem, you may just report to me or at any subsequent meeting.”

“No worries sir,” Bang Chan’s eyes lingered on yours for a fraction of a second more before grinning at Manager Kim, “I’m always punctual.”

The rest of the meeting consisted of more introductions and preliminary plans. After about an hour, everybody seemed satisfied with the contents of the meeting and were starting to pack up all their clutter on the table. You looked over at Manager Chen, silently asking what should I do next?

Manager Chen smiled. “Let's head to my floor. I can give you a quick tour, you can get settled at your desk. I have some paperwork that I’m almost done with; I’m sure you’ll have no problem finishing it for me.” She already was standing up and straightening over the creases of her jacket.

You stood up as well and followed behind Manager Chen like a lost baby duckling. You both made your way over to Manager Kim to bid farewell. You politely thanked him, said your goodbyes, and were about to leave when he stopped the two of you.

“Manager Chen, let’s go out for drinks tonight.” Manager Kim took a look at the intricate watch on his wrist. “With our whole team, of course. It’ll be a welcoming night and we can get to know the people on our team better.”

“That’s a great idea, Manager Kim,” Manager Chen nodded at his idea in approval. She turned on her iPad to quickly get a glimpse at her schedule. “What do you think y/n? Can you make it tonight? I know this is very last moment, but I think it’ll be a great opportunity for you to get to know your coworkers better.”

“I should be able to make it.” You definitely could make it. You had no plans anyways.

“Am I invited to this top secret party you’re all having?” A now very distinguishable voice came from behind you. Bang Chan stared at Manager Kim with a very mischievous expression.

“Would your manager allow it?” Manager Kim questioned, knitting his eyebrows.

“I’m on a diet, so I can’t drink alcohol or eat anything,” Bang Chan’s nose scrunched up in annoyance, “but I want to be as involved as I can. Just because I’m an idol doesn’t mean I can’t help behind the scenes as well.”

“Very well,” Manager Kim nodded with a fixed expression, “Let’s all meet at that restaurant about a block away west. I’ll go tell the others.” And with that, Manager Kim left you, Manager Chen, and Bang Chan to stand in awkward silence.

“Well,” Bang Chan cleared his throat and clapped his hands together, “I’ll get going as well to do some work now, but it was nice meeting the both of you.”

“You as well.” Manager Chen replied for the both of you and Bang Chan left soon after.

Manager Chen then led you to the elevators again and you headed up yet another few floors to reach your destination. You nervously fiddled with your hair as you silently waited behind your boss, looking up at the smooth lines of her blazer every few seconds. The elevator doors dinged, letting you know of its arrival. The two of you swiftly headed out the elevators and walked to what you presumed was Manager Chen’s office area. You kept following behind Manager Chen in silence before you stopped in front of a set of doors that looked identical to the ones at the previous meeting room. Manager Chen opened the doors for you, and you headed in.

You paused a step in, looking wide-eyed at the interior. The office was clean. A big glass desk sat right in the middle of the vast room in front of a huge set of windows. There were a couple of soft looking chairs placed right before the desk with a huge rug right underneath it. Over to your left, you spotted a water dispenser with a kettle right beside it. You stared at the room a bit longer before realizing you must have looked very stupid with that astonished look on your face.

“Is this your office, Manager Chen?” You asked.

“Yes. It seems that you like it,” She chuckled. You felt the heat rise to your ears.

“Since you’ll be working so close to me, I’m sure you’ll be happy to come here more often.”

“Thanks.” You awkwardly laughed. You blamed your bad response on the fact that you still weren’t familiar with the language, not your blatant awkwardness.

Manager Chen made her way over to her desk, picking up a small stack of papers. “These are some letters I’ve received from several designer companies in China. Since we are still in the very preliminary stages of this project, we would like to keep our options open for the stylists here.” She picks an annotated letter from the pile. “I’ve translated and created a summary of the main points of this letter. There are a few more left which I believe I can trust you with. Just do as I did with this letter and add the sample pictures along with it.”

You quickly complied, taking the stack of papers from her hands.

“I’ll show you to your new work space.” She led you out of your office and over to a cubicle that wasn’t too far away. It was considerably smaller compared to Manager Chen’s office, but you thought it had a certain coziness to it. Plus, working close to your coworkers could also boost your motivation. “Here is your desk, it’s not the most exciting thing, but you may bring photos or whatnot to decorate it. Now, I’ll let you settle in and get started on your work. You can meet me at my office around six, I can double check your work before we leave.”

You thanked her before she left and immediately got started on your work. You diligently translated the whole of the letters before picking out the main points that matched with Manager Chen’s example. After this was done, you included the photos that came with each letter and slipped them into their own cozy folder. This work was monotonous, sure, but it was something you needed on your hectic first day here.

You were so captivated by your work that you completely forgot about the time. The sun was starting to set, and you only remembered to look at the time after you tucked your last letter neatly in its folder. You briefly panicked, praying that you weren’t making your manager wait. Thankfully, it was only a quarter until six. You took the next fifteen minutes double checking your work, making sure to also check the time every once in a while. At exactly six, you left your desk and scurried over to the big doors of Manager Chen’s office.

Knocking a couple times, you waited patiently to be let in.

“Come in.”

You let yourself in, handing the papers to your manager, then sat quietly in one of the chairs before her desk, crossing your fingers together. You fiddled with your thumbs, patiently waiting for Manager Chen to speak up.

“Not bad, this is some decent work.” Manager Chen announced as soon as she finished glossing over your work. “I’ve noted some places that you can either fix or improve. I’ll scan them and hand you a copy tomorrow.”

You let out a breath that you didn’t know you were holding. A tidal wave of relief washed over you as you let yourself relax further into your chain. Not bad, this is some decent work. You proudly repeated this moment in your brain. Although you were disappointed with the mistakes that you let slip through, to get somewhat of a compliment on your first day meant a lot to you.

“Shall we get going now?” Manager Chen asked.

You grabbed your bag and stood up. “I’ll let you lead the way.”

_______

It seemed like all you were doing on your first day was following Manager Chen around like a lost puppy. The situation right now was no exception either, as you tried to copy her confident strides over to the restaurant a block down. You watched the busy rush hour streets and sidewalks fill with people, some people going home after a long day, some people going to party just like you.

Soon, after a few more minutes of walking, the both of you arrived at the small wooden doors of the restaurants. It seemed like the both of you were a bit late as Manager Kim was already waiting in front of the entrance with the rest of the team. Bang Chan was also there, head down looking at his phone.

“Sorry we’re late, have you been waiting for long?” Manager Chen somehow sounded confident despite making everybody wait on her.

Her voice seemed to have caught everybody’s attention. You watched as Bang Chan swiftly turned his head up from his phone, his eyes making contact with yours. You immediately focused your eyes somewhere else, trying to casually play off the fact that your eyes subconsciously drifted to him.

“We’ve only been waiting for a couple minutes.” Manager Kim gave a tight smile. “Let’s go in before you all get too cold.”

Your little group of around ten people slowly entered the doors, filling the restaurant. Manager Kim called over a waitress, signaling that you had ten people in your group, and let the waitress lead you all to a long wooden table.

The restaurant was nice, nothing too fancy, but that’s how you could tell the food was good. With dim lighting and tightly packed tables, it made you feel fuzzy and warm on the inside.

However, your thoughts on the restaurant were soon broken by a hand on your shoulder.

“Y/n, why don’t you sit with me?” Manager Kim’s lips curled up, “After all, this is a work gathering, how good of a boss would I be if I didn’t even treat my newest team member to a drink?”

Your brain was in shambles. You seriously didn’t feel comfortable sitting with him all night. However, the logical side of your brain was saying something different. He’s just being nice as a boss. You don’t know how people in this country act anyways, stop being paranoid.

It seemed like your inner turmoil was taking longer than necessary, as you heard another familiar voice speak up.

“Manager Kim-” Bang Chan called out.

“You don’t need to sit with me here, Bang Chan.” Manager Kim chuckled as he stared directly in Bang Chan’s eyes. “I’d rather not talk about work outside the office.”

You watched as Bang Chan’s eyebrows furrowed, looking back to you in reluctance. You smiled at him before turning your attention to Manager Kim. It was just one night, right? Plus, there’s no harm in establishing a good impression with your boss.

“I’ll sit with you, Manager Kim.” You smiled, “thanks for offering.”

And so, you took your seat next to Manager Kim at the table. Bang Chan, who was to your left, looked askance at Manager Kim for a brief second before his facial expression did a complete 180. His familiar, boy-ish smile was plastered on his face like it was the most natural thing.

When the menus came, everybody at the table — including you — started to order onslaughts of food and alcohol. After brief moments of casual chatter about topics such as the weather or how good the food was here, everything that was ordered arrived at your table.

You grabbed a can of beer and started sipping on it. You’ve drank before — of course — with your old friends at university, but it’s been at least a year since you last did. Better ease myself in. You thought.

However, your preconceived plans were ruined when a small glass of clear liquor got pushed in front of you.

“Y/n, surely you aren’t going to sip on that can all night.” The ends of Manager Kim’s lips curled up.

“Wasn’t planning to, sir.” You replied while tipping the glass up and into your mouth. The bitter liquid burned your throat as it went down. You took a moment to recollect your surroundings. Seems like your tolerance was higher than you thought.

“Bang Chan, do you not drink? Why not eat something then?” Manager Chen pointed to the food on the table.

“No can do ma’am, I’m on a strict diet. My manager would kill me.” Bang Chan pointed to his glass of water.

“In that case,” Manager Chen filled another glass, “Y/n, have another drink.” She slid the glass down the table in front of you.

You gladly accepted your second drink, downing the alcohol in one go. Your eyes instinctively squeezed together as you felt your throat burn. From the tips of your ears to the ends of your toes, your whole body felt warm and alive.

You lost track of the time. As your conversations got livelier, your head got fuzzier. You stopped counting your drinks after four, especially since so many people were eager to offer the new employee a drink. Although your vision was starting to blur, you could still think straight. I can still think, you thought to yourself, still — what a powerful buzz.

Your thoughts ran rampant in your mind as you stared at the lightbulb across the room. What a pretty light. So bright. Warm.

“Y/n.”

Was the light calling your name?

“Y/n!”

Your eyes focused again and snapped away from the lightbulb. Where was the voice coming from? You slowly turned your head. Bang Chan.

“Hi.” You smiled.

“Hi.” He smiled back. So bright. Warm. “It’s been hours and I haven’t even offered you a drink yet.”

You tried to focus your eyes on his face as he slid the glass over to you. One more drink wouldn’t hurt your buzz, right?

You gladly accepted, slowly moving your hand over to the glass to pick the clear liquid up. It went down in one go just like all the others.

Huh? Was this water?

You struggled to focus your eyes on the person who offered you the drink. “That was yummy.”

“I bet it was,” the talking blur chuckled, “How about another one?”

You nodded, then took the glass he slid towards you. It’s funny how water flows even when in a cup. Water. You needed to pee.

“Hey,” your words dragged out, “where’s uh, where’s the washroom?”

“Follow me. I’ll show you.” Manager Kim stood up and reached his hand out towards you. You didn’t want to take it, but it seemed like nobody was noticing his offer.

Reluctantly, you took his hand and stood up, only to stumble down again. Did your knees not want to listen?

“Whoa there, better hold on.” Manager Kim said.

“No, I can walk. I-I can walk.” You let go of Manager Kim and tried to focus all your brainpower on moving your feet in a straight line. This tactic only worked for a second, however, as your knees gave in and you stumbled down.

“It’s obvious that you can’t.” Manager Kim’s lips turned up. “It’s time for you to go home. I’ll take you back.”

What? No. You didn’t want Manager Kim to take you home, not after all the awkward events of today and the general vibe from him. You tried to express your thoughts, but nothing came out of your mouth.

“Manager Kim, you’ve been drinking!” Bang Chan’s voice came from some part of the room. “It’s not safe to drive, I’ll call a taxi for you.”

“What about Y/n here? I’ll get a taxi for us both.” Manager Kim said.

“I called my manager earlier to pick me up, we can drop her off along the way. It’s not a good idea to put two drunk people in a car. I’m completely sober right now, so let me do all the work.” Bang Chan grinned, patting Manager Kim on his shoulder.

“Is that what you want, Y/n?” Manager Kim glared.

You dizzily nodded.

“Alright. In that case, I can call my own taxi later.” Manager Kim grimaced.

“Stay safe, Manager Kim.” Bang Chan smiled. He turned to you. “My manager’s been waiting outside for a while now, do you want to leave now?”

You nodded. You tried to start walking again, but your damn knees just wouldn’t listen.

“Do you want to hold on to me?” Bang Chan knitted his brows together and held out an arm.

“I,” you slurred, “can walk.” You tried to start your feet again, only to end up stumbling down.

“I know you can,” Bang Chan said as he reached his hands out to stabilize you, “but — ah — I’m really tired after today. Can you hold on to my arm so I won’t fall out of exhaustion?”

You agreed to help him. Bang Chan waved to everybody still at the table before leading the two of you out to a black SUV. He allowed you to stumble your way in the back seats first before sliding in himself. He asked you for your address, which took many tries for you to accurately type it into his phone.

You leaned your head against the window, staring at passing blurred lights as Bang Chan’s manager started driving. Just being away from the loud and bright environment seemed to have cleared your head a little, but the pounding would not stop. You cursed yourself for being so irresponsible on your first day, especially because you were still alone in this new country.

“Hey,” you felt a gentle tap on your shoulder, “want some water?” You looked over to see Bang Chan holding out a plastic bottle with the lid screwed off.

You languidly reached your hand out for the bottle and gulped down as much water as you could in one breath before handing it back to him. The street lights started getting blurrier as you tried to fight exhaustion, the muscles in your eyelids starting to get more and more uncontrollable.

“Y/n.”

“Hmm?”

“Don’t fall asleep yet, we’re almost there. Ten more minutes.”

You couldn’t hear anything after that, however, as you felt your eyes give up on you and your body fall into a deep sleep.

“Y/n… Y/n.” A familiar voice called.

You fluttered your eyes open, your head pounding. Not knowing where you were, you surveyed your surroundings in a panic. It seemed as though you were in the back of a car… Parked outside of your apartment building?

“Hey, you’re finally awake.” Bang Chan’s voice entered your ear. It all came rushing back to you; the restaurant, the drinking, entering the SUV.

“How long have we been parked here?” Your groggy voice sounded inhuman. You had to clear your throat a couple times.

“It’s only been twenty or so minutes. I’m not allowed to leave the car, are you able to get home alone? I can ask my manager to go with you.” Bang Chan scratched the back of his neck.

“I should be fine.” You mumbled, a bit embarrassed to have fallen asleep in the car of a person you just met that day. This wasn’t even his car, it was his manager’s.

“Hey… can I put my number in your phone?” Bang Chan avoided your eyes. “Just so you can tell me when you get home.” He quickly added.

“Okay.” You awkwardly handed him your phone with your contacts already opened. He quickly typed his phone number in before handing it back to you.

“Text me when you get home. Remember to lock your door, okay?”

You thank both him and his manager before hurrying back to your apartment. Your head was still pounding unrelentlessly as you pressed the elevator button for your floor. The events of today were still unprocessed in your brain. You met a potential friend, which was a highlight. However, you also met two higher up managers and an actual idol, only to get hilariously drunk in the presence of. At least it’ll make a good story to tell my mom. You thought.

In no time, you made it in your apartment and locked the door behind you, remembering what Bang Chan told you in the car. You texted the new number in your phone.

Y/n: Hi. It’s y/n. I just entered my apartment.

Not even a minute later, your phone lit up, signaling a new text message.

Bang Chan: great!! remember to lock the doooor hahaha ( ◕ω◕✿ )

You subconsciously grin at your phone. Cute. Throwing your phone haphazardly on your bed, you begrudgingly began your night routine. After washing up and throwing on a random shirt from your closet, you fell on your bed ready to sleep. You were about to close your eyes when your phone lit up again with a ding. It was another text.

Bang Chan: Hey… Just so you know, if you ever feel unsafe around the office just tell me okay? I’ll always try to help you in whatever way I can.

#stray kids #stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagines #stray kids x reader #stray kids smut #stray kids fluff #stray kids angst #stray kids fanfic #skz scenarios #skz imagines #bang chan #bang chan scenarios #bang chan imagines #bang chan fluff #bang chan angst #bang chan smut

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randombtsprincessa · 3 years ago

Text

Brush His Picture

Author: Randombtsprincessa

Characters: Kim Namjoon x Reader

Words: 12.6k I am sorry for getting carried away...again.

Genre: Fluff, Angst cause it’s me

Rating: General!

Summary: Your job of writing a bio for Kim Namjoon is thrown for a spin when feelings get involved...

Warnings: It’s Namjoon. I have gushed. I am not sorry.

A/N: Firstly a warm and cuddly hug for @wynniewright for whom this fic is written. I enjoyed our conversations and look forward to more of those! Secondly a big hug and heaps of thanks to @casuallyimagining for the gif banner because I suck at those. Thirdly thanks to @thebtswritersclub for hosting the wonderful exchange!

Smeraldo Books, in your opinion, was the best building in the small corporate complex located just a little walking distance from your little apartment. It was slate gray; concrete and glass which gave off a cold, aloof appearance from outside, but when you entered it, it was rich creams, warm browns with tons of plants and flowers. The smell followed you, as you climbed up the floors, multicolored as should be the place where you entered new dimensions via books.

Your own floor was pastel blue, pine wood and deep tones of red and browns sprinkled here and there. If you looked hard, you’d find some pink nestled somewhere too. Today it was on your own desk. You had outdone yourself to be early today. You’d packed up everything you could think of in a sensible tote – notepad, tablet, pens, pencils, heck you’d even thrown in a sharpener and ruler scale. You’d grabbed your hello kitty travel mug, filled it with yummy hot chocolate with a touch of espresso and strode down the street to work.

You would be getting the first assignments of the incoming season today and since it was your first writing assignment overall, you wanted to make a good impression – a very good impression. Your pressed clothes and smart shoes were testament of your frazzled fluttering last night, preparing for today. Making sure you had everything; you took a deep breath and made to enter the conference room at the back of the floor.

Each floor had one, for on-floor calls and projects undertaken by the different subsets of the publishing house you worked for. Yours, in particular, was the same blue and pine, a long oval table in the centre with purple and blue mismatched chairs around it. Light streamed in clearly from the high wide windows, with glass animals on the sill throwing rainbows on the wall. In the very centre of the table was a vase, sporting the very flower that the company was named after. The ethereal blue petals blushing with pinks and violets at their veins curled delicately, recently sprayed to look dewy and fresh.

You adored these flowers; you had three pots of them at home.

***

Rena arrived at sharp 9:45. Her hair was pulled back in a sleek high ponytail that you were semi sure could cut if she – ahem, whipped her hair back and forth fast enough. You’d mentioned that during a drinking night, and had been friends since. She was your mentor in more ways than one, and you relied on her heavily, this being your first year at Smeraldo. Your appearance today would reflect on her too and you wanted her to know that she could trust you.

“Good morning, Y/N.” She smiled at you.

“Good morning, Rena. Any news for the morning?”

She shrugged, unbuttoning her navy suit. She crossed her legs. “I know seasonal meetings are important, but you don’t have to be quite so stressed about them.” She winked at you. “Don’t worry, you’ll ease into it.”

You sighed in relief. If Rena was this unbothered, you had absolutely no reason to worry.

Your steady breathing remained until about ten minutes, when at 9:55, the door was opened and the head walked in with her assistants and the other members of the floor. You shuffled to the front of your chair as the meeting commenced.

As Rena had said, it really wasn’t anything to worry about. Your head was chill enough when she presented spreadsheets, delegating people to watch the stats and curves before the real reason for the meeting was dealt with.

The ‘projects’ were the writing, the works, the foundation of Smeraldo. Every ‘project’ floor had three to four of those. The stars, who would usually grab the opportunity to head out there, do the work your creative writing professor preached about and bring in the digs. The rest of the floor was the sheep, handling excels and graphs – like commoners.

This season began with two fantasy drafts, both quickly given out to the oldest, most experienced Stars, no questions asked. They were to draft first, present later before Smeraldo published them under their banner.

“Right then,” She looked up. “Now, I don’t suppose you need to be reminded that last year we joined hands to collaborate with HYBE. It is an honor that they chose us and we intend to honor them right back, don’t we?” The words were intimidating enough for us to all nod.

“We have already worked with them so it should be easier for us to get going on the contract this time around. Right Kayla,”

We all turned to look at each other while there was silence from where the Head pointed.

***

As a part of the Smeraldo-HYBE collaboration, personal booklets for each member were released along with quarterly albums, as a sort of promotion. Last quarter, it was Min Yoongi. Now the big season project fish was Kim Namjoon. These works were separate from Smeraldo fictions but equally as important, and if the Head was to be taken seriously, even more so.

After all, BTS was worldwide famous. To do them wrong, would mean our name was mud.

Kayla was the third writer on your floor, senior to you and she had handled Mr. Min’s book. It was a given that she would take charge for the other member’s books as well…

…only…Kayla was absent…at a seasonal meeting…

The fuming ears of the floor Head suddenly told you that maybe you did have something to worry about. With all due respect to Rena, you quietly celebrated showing up an hour early.

“Where the hell is she? What’s going on?”

We stared back dumbly.

“She didn’t call in sick or called off today.” One of the assistants supplied helpfully but cowered when the Head glowered at her.

“Well, that’s all very well, but who do I brief now?”

“Not to worry, you can brief Y/N.”

There was a longer pause in which the members of your floor, simultaneously, turned to look at you. Your jaw nearly dropped, head whipping to look at Rena; the picture of ease. She looked at you and smiled.

To her credit, the Head looked equally thunderstruck. “I…Y/N?” she asked.

You looked around meekly. “Yes ma’am.”

She looked at you askance, before resolutely glancing at Rena. “You will watch her, yes?” At Rena’s nod, she turned back to you. “Miss Y/L/N, I won’t remind you that this project is extremely important to Smeraldo. I would expect your utmost best, understand?” You quickly nodded your head.

“You will be meeting with Bang Sihyuk and Namjoon himself in two days. All information about the album and the HYBE workings will be in a dossier in your mail. Don’t disappoint me.” she cast another look at Kayla’s empty chair, sighed in annoyance before swiping her files over to her assistant.

“Until next time, people,”

When the room finally emptied, you immediately turned to Rena, “Why would you do that?” You demanded.

Rena looked exactly the opposite of how you felt. Stretched onto your nerves now lay the weight of the world, your world. You had been thrilled to get an internship at Smeraldo, working your entire life around the business and after scoring an actual job here you had never thought that one day so soon you’d be at the risk of losing it.

If Kim Namjoon’s book tanked – you were dead. Dead, dead and very much dead…

“I told you, Y/N, you worry too much. This job is probably the easiest ever and since Kayla decided not to show up…I mean, come on, you’re one of our writers…the job was bound to come to you. Head madam just needed some time before she came to you. I hurried the process up. Besides, how will you learn if you don’t actually do the work?”

“But…it’s Kim Namjoon…” You mumbled.

“He’s hardly going to bite your head off, Y/N. Chin up and head to the meeting like the champ you are. You’ll be fine.” She tipped your head back with her hand before walking out herself, leaving you to scurry to your desk, feeling nowhere near as consoled as you should’ve been.

***

Two days in and you were getting dressed up yet again. Only this time, your nerves were sparking like a frayed wire no one was paying enough attention to. You chose a simple but professional outfit, worrying if there was any way anyone could nitpick on it. You ended up switching to something much more formal (and in your opinion, stuffy) attire in the wee hours of the morning, unable to get back to sleep.

HYBE’s building was situated in one of the most upscale business locales in the city. You had to take a cab to get there, already deciding that no way would you have enough time if you took a bus or the train. Already the buttons on your top felt like an over-tight corset. Thankfully, you seemed respectful and important enough to the cab driver that he stepped on the gas pedal, having you step out on the pavement in front of the building with almost twenty minutes to spare. You swigged at the espresso chocolate mix in your cup before stuffing it back into your tote.

You could do this. You had all the qualifications…if not the experience.

You could not possibly screw up that bad, could you?

According to the dossier, the meeting was set in the lounge, somewhere comfortable and open, probably a request of Namjoon’s himself. You knew enough about the man to take a guess.

Inside the building, security quickly but thoroughly sorted you out. You were patted down by a friendly lady, who smiled as she scanned you out an ID and rifled through your purse. She spotted your Hello Kitty cup and chuckled, giving you a wink that had you blushing all the way to where you were supposed to meet – directions given very kindly.

Along the way you knew. You knew that if you ever had to change jobs, you would dearly love to take one at HYBE. The place was an eclectic mix of practical and fun. There were artist posters and records and awards sprinkled around, the most prominent being BTS of course. Sunny gold lined the areas, with crisp blues and greens.

You might have even passed a little park arena.

When you reached the lounge, a sprawling area of lush moss like carpets and pink and purple art work on peach walls, there were only two other people in. The ones you were here to meet.

You recognized Namjoon from the door itself.

Insanely tall and thickly built in all the right places, he stood at a window. His hands were shoved into the pockets of his baggy khakis, a thin blue sweater hanging over his frame, hiding just how muscular he truly must be. Your lips twitched at the deep rose pink hue of his hair.

The other man must have been Mr. Sihyuk, grey suited and glasses perched on the tip of his nose, steadily going through sheaves of paper. Both men looked up at your knock on the glass doors.

Mr. Sihyuk stood up first, hand outstretched but his smile looked a little confused.

“Um, Miss Kayla…how nice to see you, again…”

It seemed like a question, his eyes scanning over your face as if trying to place you and you froze. Your hand paused just a little away from his, eyes darting around to the Idol who joined his CEO.

“It was wonderful to have you with us again on the bio projects for the albums,” He continued, seeming unfazed by your gob-smacked face. “You did a brilliant job on Yoongi’s. I was sad to be unable to meet with you before.”

Oh…dear…they didn’t know it wasn’t Kayla who was going to be on the job. Suddenly you felt like sinking through the soft carpets, right underground. They probably had dossiers of their own, with Kayla’s name across them. They didn’t know that she had slept in that one day and they didn’t know that they were now stuck with you.

“I’m – I’m afraid there's some misunderstanding, Mr. Sihyuk. My name is Y/N Y/L/N. I’m afraid Kayla was unavailable for the project.”

There was absolute silence on both ends after you finished. Mr. Sihyuk’s shoulders fell at your words, mouth parting as his eyes went scanning you again. This time you could distinctly feel him sizing you up. His eyebrows twitched up just so.

“Well then,” The other man, Kim Namjoon, the one you were supposed to write about, extended his hand. “I suppose we should rehash that welcome. Hello Miss Y/L/N, my name is Kim Namjoon. I look forward to working with you.”

You jolted a little, even stumbling forward to shake his hand, now thoroughly shaken out from your humiliated stupor.

“Forgive us, we must not have read the email citing the change.” Bang Sihyuk continued, spreading his hands genially.

“Don’t worry about it. These things can happen.” You fiddled with your bag strap with a tight smile, ignoring the urge to sway on the balls of your feet. The thick tension had still not dissipated as the three of you stood in a triangle, wondering who was going to make the first move.

It had to be you, shockingly. “So, um, shall we begin?”

You were shown a plush red armchair, Namjoon and Bang-PD taking the matching sofa as you were given the preliminary data. A small biographical book of sorts, more of a booklet if you were being honest; talking about an important segment in Namjoon’s life and his process and journey throughout the inspiration and creative take of the upcoming album. Standard, new age stuff…same as Yoongi’s…you already had Kayla’s old notes on the write up forwarded in your email.

You scribbled in small notes in your notepad while Mr. Sihyuk slid a small calendar across. “This is the tentative production and release schedule that we want to follow. There is, of course, plenty of time for you to follow Namjoon around and get a feel of the work environment, the studio life and of course, Namjoon himself. You’ll have quite a lot of time to write. The book will be issued and launched before the press conference and promotions will be done along with availability of the bio in stores.”

You studied the calendar before slipping it into your bag. “Thank you, Mr. Sihyuk. This is most helpful. We’ll be starting work from next week then?”

You were met with nods.

“Well, I’ll be off. It was wonderful to make your acquaintance, Miss Y/L/N. Please, forgive us about the whole Kayla mishap.” Bang-PD stood, you and Namjoon following and with a parting handshake he marched out of the lounge.

You began to slide in your pens and notes back in the bag when you noticed that Namjoon hadn’t followed his CEO out. Instead he stayed back; hands behind his back, watching you pack up.

You glanced up at him in question, meeting his impish small smile with a confused one of your own. “I’m sorry, I just feel so bad about the…thing before.” He said.

“Oh please, really, don’t worry. I’m, like, very new to this so it was bound to happen.” You waved a hand, slinging your tote on your shoulder, preparing to leave.

“Drive safe.” He said, gesturing for you to walk before him.

“Don’t have a car,” You blurted out instinctively before mentally slapping yourself.

“Oh, do you need a car? I’m sure we can get one to take you back to the office.”

“No, no, please.” Your ears burned at the thought of taking one of HYBE’s no doubt lavish company cars to simply take you back to Smeraldo. “I’ll just take a cab.”

You didn’t wait for his reply, shooting a quick smile and wave as you nearly rushed towards the exit.

***

Next week saw a dip in temperature, with you arriving at HYBE wrapped in a coat and scarf. You pulled off your beanie when the kind lady at the desk handed you your lanyard, this time stamped across it were the words EMPLOYEE/ COLLABORATOR. It felt heavy around your neck, the figurative noose as it were, in case you messed up.

Namjoon met you near the reception desk, jogging over from one of the elevators. “Hey!” He smiled wide, rosy hair glinting under the lights. “You’re right on time.”

“Oh,” You wondered if they were watching you for slip-ups and punctuality was one area they were scrutinizing. “On time for what?”

“To meet up; it’s so cold we’re all taking coffee breaks every ten minutes. I thought we could just work in the café?”

Namjoon rubbed his large palms together, drawing your attention to his fingers – soft and perfectly formed. You cleared your throat, shocked at yourself – tightly smiling back.

“Sure, lead the way.” As if you were going to refuse a request from Kim Namjoon himself, you and he walked the same route as you had the first time you’d come here. Only this time, you passed the lounge and followed another hallway which led to what was obviously the cafeteria. The back was lined with counters and serving tables of buffets. There were couches strewn about, booths, and tables. You felt like you were back in school. You hoped the food would be better.

Namjoon led you first to the serving tables. Stirring himself a simple cup of coffee, he turned to you. “Anything you want, you can find here. Sandwiches, subs, ramen, noodles, yeah, we have to go out if you want something more…sustainable.”

“No, this is great.” You gratefully tore open a mixer packet of hot chocolate, bringing out your own mug to put it in. you’d sipped the drink in the journey over, before finally realizing you’d emptied it.

Your new muse raised his eyebrow at the Hello Kitty but didn’t say anything, only suppressing an amused smile. You pretended not to notice that.

Once you were sitting at one of the tables near the windows, you spread your recorder, notebook, pens and cup, ready to work. “Ok, shall we start?”

Namjoon took the final gulp of his coffee, nodding.

“Right so, you’re going to be writing the prologue of the book yourself.” You muttered, flitting through the primary requirements.

“Yep, it’ll be more of a front to my thoughts which you’ll be writing about. It’ll be a personal note to the members, the staff and ARMY from me. Something that is completely mine but it will set the tone for your work.” Namjoon turned his phone to you, tapping a note on it. “I already have the first draft for it. It’ll be revised of course but I’ll email it to you so you can start with that.”

You picked up your pen and then it was only Namjoon talking about how the primary idea for the album came to life and began to gestate in his mind. You found it incredible, how a small incident or a sound could inspire someone like that. You’d never had any experience that moved you like that. You told him as such, wistful of the kind of inspiration that might never ever come.

Namjoon placed an elbow on the table, looking keenly at you. “You’re a writer.” He pointed out.

“Not really; I am working as such, yeah, but I wouldn’t say I’ve been inspired by anything. You have. I think you’ve been inspired since you were…what, fifteen?”

“I had a different beginning than yours, yes. But you can’t compare inspiration with experience. Experience comes after inspiration. Before, there’s only the feeling, the emotion that leads to it. Would you say that you started writing out of just an everyday inspiration, or did you feel something for the craft that drove you to it?”

“I wouldn’t say that’s a fair comparison.” You fiddled with the pages of notes. “I know your beginning, of course, everyone does. I didn’t have that kind of harsh circumstances pushing me to motivation. To be very honest…I’d say I’ve breezed past life. I love my job, but I don’t have much to show in the journey to it.”

Namjoon was silent for a few moments. His tongue poked into his cheek as he regarded you shrewdly. Finally, he gave you a sweet smile, eyes scrunching and dimples popping. Your pen stopped twirling in your fingers, blood easing in your veins at the simple change of expression.

“And that’s okay,” he said, “Not everyone should have to suffer through awful situations to achieve things they aim for. Success shouldn’t be measured in tears, Y/N. The point of life, in my opinion, is happiness and in the end that is what matters; the fact that you end up happy.”

You blinked as Namjoon’s blinding smile dimmed, turning into moonshine as he ran a finger over the rim of his empty cup. The seconds stretched by, you silently removing your gaze from his and taking down everything he had said. Your eyes wanted very badly to return to his face but you kept them firmly on the page, pondering his words, until you realized through your daze that he was speaking again.

“I’m sorry again, about PD-nim and the whole Kayla thing. The email we got was sitting in the inbox but we weren’t informed and neither did we think of checking the company email before the meeting itself.” His voice had softened, turned apologetic that had you hurrying to ease his conscience.

“I already told you, it’s no biggie, really.” You insisted.

“It must’ve been nerve-wracking, especially on the first day.”

You huffed, air whistling from your lips at him, before acquiescing, “Yeah, ok, maybe a little.”

That moonshine smile brightened again, defeating the sun beams that streaked through the windows. “Allow me to make up for it by giving you a tour of our studios. Same time, tomorrow.”

At that time, you were only glad that you could gaze at his face without an excuse.

***

It took you a few days, getting used to the new schedule. You were used to the short walk from your home to Smeraldo. You were used to the morning crispness on your cheeks, the thud of your feet on the pavement and then the warm confines of your office cubicle.

The new pattern involved you having to catch a cab everyday to HYBE. It wasn’t too expensive thankfully, and the hours you spent in the expanse of HYBE, shadowing Namjoon to his haunts and work areas was starting to prove much more enjoyable and rewarding than anything you’d be doing in Smeraldo.

You were drawn into the chatter and gossip of the makeup artists, the lady who intercepted you daily at the desk struck up more conversations with you when you entered. She had a son, you’d learned. Her husband worked away from the city but he commuted every weekend and they found time for getaways whenever they could.

The most jolting experience was meeting the rest of Bangtan.

Namjoon had asked you to accompany him to one of the group practices and when you entered the huge mirrored room, you spotted the rest of the boys sitting here and there, some on their phones, the other stretching.

“Hey guys,” Namjoon slipped the strap of his work out bag over his head, turning slightly to the side to show you standing behind him to the rest of the idols. You raised a hand awkwardly, waving.

“You brought a friend?” One of the men at the back asked – Jimin, with his baby features and an inquisitive smile.

“Actually, this is Y/N. She’s the one doing the bio book for the album for me this time.” He placed a hand gently on your back, pushing you ahead when you failed to step forward.

“Uh, hi,” you mumbled, “nice to meet you all. I’m Y/N.”

“Yeah, Hyung just said.”

Your cheeks immediately heated, helplessly turning to the one who’d spoken.

“Yah, Jungkook-ah, be nice.” A taller man – Jin - smacked the back of the maknae’s head, before smiling at you. “It is very nice to meet you, Y/N. Are you going to be working while we practice?”

The gentle voice of the older man did wonders for you. Reminded of Rena’s composure, you immediately brightened, bowing to them naturally. “Yes sir, I am supposed to be shadowing Mr. Kim so…I hope you don’t mind.”

This made them burst out laughing – Namjoon included.

“‘Mr. Kim’, wow, Namjoon you’ve traumatized the girl. Please don’t be so formal, we’re not used to it.” Jin chortled.

Namjoon rolled his eyes, taking your elbow gently to guide you to sit on one of the cushions against the back wall. “You can sit here and watch. We won’t kick you in the face that way.” He winked and you managed a weak giggle back when you had recovered enough.

Why, oh why did he have to be so attractive? In those loose black shorts, that blasted white tank, you hadn’t been able to quite meet his eyes ever since you’d met him today.

You decided to obey the laws of ‘work’ as BTS practiced their routines. You pulled out your usual supply of pens and your trusty notebook and began to scrawl everything you’d observed, this time the process of choreography and how the dynamics between the group members and Namjoon worked in these hard routines. It took you about five pages, filling out and circling details that you would highlight in the bio.

Soon enough, you ran out of work to distract you. You folded your hands in your lap neatly, simply watching in awe. Each member hit the beat with a different type of attitude. If Jungkook was sleek as a panther, Hoseok was a coiled serpent, but none of them ever missed a beat. There was a tandem between them all, which made you sure that they took this very seriously. After all, they were known for their work ethic and it was their bread and butter.

They couldn’t slack in this just as much as you couldn’t slack in the bio.

Your eyes drifted back to Namjoon. Even though you knew, he wouldn’t describe himself as a dancer primarily, he was no less behind in his steps than his members. He moved with an awkward grace not unlike people of his height. God of Destruction – you remembered – and yet, you couldn’t help but watch when he moved. His chin jutted in concentration and you balled your fist under your chin, chiding yourself.

You were self aware enough to recognize the flow of your emotions and right now, they were particularly worrying. You were in awe of Kim Namjoon, anyone with any semblance of sense would be. He was intelligent, chivalrous, generous, charming, thoughtful, and humorous and in the days you’d worked with him, more than just books and music. He was a fun and charming person to be around and he attracted people like moths.

But…he was way beyond human leagues.

Someone like Kim Namjoon couldn’t be human. He had to be some eldritch being, put together into conception out of pure matter and stardust. There was no way his mind and his soul were meant to be meandering on this planet. And while you were aware he was far from purposeless, you wondered if he would ever be satisfied with his purpose in time.

Maybe…maybe not…

And you, as the self aware person as you were, couldn’t – shouldn’t – be having such tumultuous emotions regarding him. He was pink roses, a dusty shade of gold that had been polished and made to shine from a young age and he basked in the glow of adoration. He was at a peak you couldn’t hope to touch.

Never mind the fact that feelings mixing with work were always dangerous. You had no room for failure if these got in the way. You couldn’t afford to lose your job. You would lose everything you had staked and for what? You couldn’t throw your life away for an unattainable man. You sighed, closed your eyes and ducked your head before any of the men could notice your hard stares.

***

If you had to pick a climax for your journey with Namjoon, you’d pick the day he texted you a weekly schedule filled with interviews and media covered events that you couldn’t shadow him to. What would you do? You couldn’t exactly carry a notepad and pens in your mouth after him like a loyal puppy while he did his job. The interviews were okay, all you had to do was stand at the back behind the camera and note the way he answered his questions and if it was an English interview, the way he deflected stupid and rude questions from his members. Although it was clear by their now unimpressed faces they knew exactly what was going on.

The trouble was the red carpet event that you couldn’t push through. It would be a shame too, since this would be one of the prime times to jot a piece of Namjoon down. In front of flashing cameras, strutting with his head held high, knowing and projecting assurance. It would’ve been a great detail in the bio.

Apparently Namjoon thought the same, because as soon as he saw blue ticks in your text chat, he called you.

“So, what do you think?” He asked.

“About what, the event…? It’s too bad, I’ll watch it on TV and you can tell me how it goes over ice-cream.” You answered, in the face of his snort.

“Or…you could just come with me as my plus one. As a friend, of course, you can sit with that little note of yours and keep writing while people scream in my ear.”

You clutched the phone hard. He wanted you to come with him? He wanted to take you with him to an event? A red carpet event at that…on his arm, with people around…but as friends of course…

“Um…it’s kind of short notice…I don’t even have a dress.” You hedges unsteadily, hoping he didn’t notice the abrupt breathiness of your voice.

“You don’t have to worry about that. I have a fashion extraordinaire handy. Text me your dress size,”

The next you heard from Namjoon was when a huge, pure white box made its way to your apartment door. The delivery man took your signature on a tablet, wearing a sleek blue shirt and pressed pants that nowhere in the world could be a uniform for couriers.

You carried the heavy box to your couch in confusion, fingers fluttering with the navy blue ribbon around it in trepidation. Should you dare open it? It looked very expensive. Maybe this was a mistake and it got delivered to you in a mix up. But it couldn’t be. The name on the tablet was yours, the address yours…

You took a deep breath and pulled the knot loose.

The ribbon fell away gracefully, the top of the box grasped in your fingers and then you opened it up.

If you weren’t holding your breath…you’d have gasped.

Inside was a gown. Ok, that was a massive understatement. The fabric was thick, layers and layers of silk and glitter draped over each other to make a thing of dreams. The delicate straps of it felt like gauze, slipping over your skin when you pulled it out in pure awe.

You couldn’t possibly wear something like this. You could never pull it off. You glanced at the mirror near your door, the skirts catching the light of your room and sparkling.

You’d be wearing a million stars sewn on your body.

Your phone chimed the very moment your weak fingers were about to drop the dress, a sacrilege that proved you unworthy of it.

Hope you liked it J I’ll pick you up at 7.

And he didn’t take your calls. He didn’t hear you out. He didn’t listen to you list the reasons why you couldn’t do this, shouldn’t do this.

Your heart was already beating drums in your chest, each set letting you know that it was misreading this gesture. Namjoon wasn’t wooing you with this dress. He was simply making sure you didn’t look like a garbage can next to him. After all, red carpets meant celebrities, paparazzi, superior expectations. He couldn’t afford to show up with someone looking like they had barely been able to put together an outfit fit for the walk.

After hours of trying, at five you gave up, beginning to get dressed.

You washed and dried your hair, putting it up in a roll that was easy and you had mastered for your interview. It couldn’t be faulted…maybe it was a little simple but hey, you hoped the attention wouldn’t be on your hair. Not with that dress…

As you had guessed, the dress was heavy, weighing your body down till you had to carefully bunch handfuls of the sparkling skirt just to walk. You paired it with the lowest heels you owned, and a simple silver set – a gift from your parents upon graduating.

The brilliant shade of lipstick applied, you prayed and prayed that Namjoon wouldn’t find you disappointing. Of course, only so; that you wouldn’t be a source of embarrassment to him and HYBE and Smeraldo. It had nothing to do with you wishing you could be swallowed by the earth if Namjoon looked even slightly put off.

He arrived sharp at seven, even climbing out to greet you. Your trip in the elevator had been thankfully solo. No peeking neighbors to comment on your appearance but of course the building manager caught sight of you, gaping through the glass door of his office. You hoped he wouldn’t attempt to raise your rent.

Sleek and pristine in a black suit and silver shirt, open at the throat, your breath did catch at the vision he made. His hair was pushed back now and he grinned when you slowly tottered over. “Hi,” he said simply, eyes glinting in the glow of the dress.

“Hey, you didn’t take my calls.” You blurted out, again wanting to smack yourself.

“Yeah, I’m sorry; I got busy with speech training and fittings. They messed up though; I’m wearing shoes one size big.” You and he both glanced down at the polished black shoes with silver toes. you shook your head at the distraction.

“Namjoon, this dress…it’s too much; I can’t say anything right now but thank you.”

“Don’t thank me – it was Taehyung who picked it out.” His eyes moved down the dress before he looked away suddenly, hand moving to rub his neck. “You look great – beautiful, I mean.”

“Thank you.”

“Shall we?”

Namjoon helped you climb into the car, bending down so he could collect about nine drapes and pleats of silk to lay them on the car floor before shutting you in. You glanced at the driver of the Cadillac that Namjoon had brought and decided to stay mum for the drive.

The sprawling expanse of the hall where the gala was taking place sent you into nervous jitters. You touched the edge of the top, wondering if it was tight enough, if the necklace was enough to draw attention away. Of course, the dress was the highlight of your outfit, but suddenly all you could think of were the faux pas that could get you kicked out and possibly fired.

You had no time to turn to Namjoon with these worries, to beg him to allow you to stay in the car when valets were opening the doors.

Flashing lights, camera with too bright heads blinded you momentarily and all you heard was a quiet ‘wait’ from Namjoon before he was exiting the car.

He shot easy smiles at the front line of the media before turning to assist you. Maybe they realized that Kim Namjoon had indeed brought someone with him because the screams increased in pitch and volume, deafening you as well.

You were completely disoriented when you felt Namjoon’s arm go casually around your waist, one hand still holding your skirts so he could walk you at least to the main photo calls and away from the paps.

“Hey, easy, okay, they’re always like that. Are you okay?” Namjoon mumbled in your ear when you were a safe distance away, turning you to face him.

“Yeah…yeah, I’m okay…I just…wow, it’s a lot to take in.” You grabbed the skirts that Namjoon had let go and began to set them around you properly.

“Okay, all we have to do is walk this bit, get some photos, talk to that man at the end and then we can head in.”

You followed Namjoon's instructions quietly. Smiling lightly, when Namjoon posed in the centre of the carpet with the logo of the sponsors behind you two; Your posture probably wasn’t the most glamorous because the camera man shrugged before letting you pass – to the interviewer.

“Kim. Namjoon.” The white suited man gasped as if Namjoon had just landed from outer space and said something scandalizing.

“Oh dear, should I be worried?” Namjoon laughed breezily but his hold on your back stiffened.

“Not at all, it seems…who is the lucky lady? We’ve never seen you. Are we finally seeing the elusive RM being snatched up off the market?” The man took the time to level a polite smile at you before Namjoon waved his hand.

“Rubbish; I could never hope to snag someone like her. This is my friend; she’s accompanying me as part of a job.”

You noticed he never gave your name, thankfully.

“Ah…just friends? Pity, you look stunning together.”

“She is stunning but I would never claim to be as lucky as that. Do please excuse us, heels and all.” The interviewer laughed as Namjoon ushered you inside the hall.

Your smile had glazed over by now and when Namjoon sat you in one of the chairs next to him, you made sure to not move too much while he had to mingle.

As heavy as the gown was, the weight of it was something completely different now. Your wings had wilted back into nothingness, bringing you down to the earth with a less than pleasant thump.

Here, in the hall with actual stars around you, it didn’t matter if stars covered your body tonight. You couldn’t be part of this. You belonged in your cubicle at Smeraldo with books that had been your lifelong companions.

You weren’t stupid. You knew Namjoon being an idol was a consequence as well as reality. His proximity had blinded you, with those bewildering smiles and irresistible dimples. He’d poetically woven a spell that with him being now gone was breaking.

You were worlds apart.

Maybe this could be a story someday.

But it would never be reality.

***

Your realization couldn’t have come at a more opportune moment. As days went by, time spent with Namjoon waned; instead you went back to your little pastel cubicle, typing away at your laptop, pouring facts mixed with sentiment onto the digital document.

Soon, pages of this would be flying off the shelves along with an album. Your connection with Namjoon would be severed and you both would part ways as acquaintances.

That would be that. You tried not to think too much of it like that. It colored your work a little melancholy and you’d have to go back and redo it so it would be upbeat.

It was one of those days of you clacking away when a shadow fell over your cubicle. You didn’t lift your eyes at first, engrossed in the mild noises your keys made when the presence started to…feel hostile. You glanced up curiously, meeting the curve of an arm first and perched on it, was the weight of Kayla.

She wasn’t looking at you; instead her eyes were on the screen of your laptop, reading your work with a tilt to her head that – to you – was condescending.

“Kayla,” You called in confusion and her eyes flitted to you.

“Carry on, carry on, I’m just going to watch. I want to see how you’re going to do this.” Maybe you were paranoid…but she definitely sounded snide.

“Do what, type…?” you mumbled under your breath, about to turn back to work but she heard you and decided to answer.

“I want to see the new worker ruin Namjoon’s story. That way we can all go back to our normal lives.”

You stopped. Your eyes widened in surprise at the blatant vehemence. You turned to her.

“Excuse me, but I’m not ruining anything. It was you, who decided to sleep in and you who missed the meeting. If anything, you’re the one who ruined your shot.”

“It wasn’t a ‘shot’ for me, Y/N. It was a guaranteed project. I was sick, it happens. I’m just surprised they let the newbie take on such a big collab. But then again, being a lapdog pays in this industry. Connections are more important than talent, I’ve heard.”

“Yeah, you definitely would be the one doing Namjoon’s story justice with that attitude.” You snapped back. If there was one thing you wouldn’t stand for, it was her sullying Rena.

She smiled again, removing herself from your cubicle wall. “Petty fights don’t matter to me, Y/N. I’m still your senior and soon enough I’ll be back to doing my rightful share of work.” She walked off in a very final manner, leaving you to stare after her a good while before you could turn back to your screen.

The blinking cursor taunted you, each second that passed without it budging, a point in proving that Kayla may have been right. You growled internally, rubbing your dry eyes.

You needed a change of view.

***

Your laptop was now perched on the same table you and Namjoon had sat on that first day. Your back was to the rest of the café, eyes free to drift out the window. You sipped on a simple smoothie and tapped away, making good progress. At this rate you could hand in the first draft in less than a week. A hundred pages worth of a booklet formed much easier when your mind was clear. You wondered again if you could change places here.

You hoped at least this way you’d be safely out of Namjoon’s path and could also enjoy the lovely environment of the building. After all, one sin didn’t have to equate to ditching another, did it?

No sooner had your mind finished that thought when you heard his voice. Your fingers rattled over your keyboard, printing the stupid version of words on your screen and you had to halt in case he had seen you and was coming over.

When you didn’t hear that cheerful deep voice that was now uncomfortably familiar to you approach from behind, you took the chance to peek over your shoulder, just to see how he was – just that.

He wasn’t alone, thankfully. Next to him stood another familiar figure; much shorter and just as broad. Min Yoongi hadn’t been very verbose with you when you’d been introduced but then again, you knew the man wasn’t a fan of small talk with strangers. He was under no obligation to chat you up and you weren’t expecting him to either.

They finally picked up their orders, sitting at one of the tables in your line - Comfortably far away so that they wouldn’t notice you; but also within earshot of you. You sighed, returning your attention to the document on your screen.

“So, how’s the book coming? Any news yet?” You heard Yoongi’s baritone.

“Not yet, but I’m sure it’s going to come along fast. Give or take a few days maybe,” Namjoon took a loud gulp, scrolling through his phone.

“I hope so. She was new, wasn’t she? I didn’t remember seeing her when it was my turn. It was that other girl…Kayla something. What’s your girl’s name again?”

You silently cleared your throat, expecting Namjoon to snap in that you weren’t ‘his girl’ but he only hummed. “It’s Y/N. We messed up that day, called her Kayla. Guess we must have thrown her off her game that whole day, but she was amazingly professional. It was stupid too, that email was sitting right in the office email, and an intern missed it and didn’t tell us.”

“That’s what happens when you don’t treat your workers right. Even interns are deserving of respect. Maybe if they were catered to the way the company expects them to cater to it, it would -,”

“Hyung, I love your rants – but please.”

Yoongi shrugged, taking a bite out of his sandwich. You cracked a smile, biting your lip to stifle a giggle at Namjoon’s dazed expression.

“So, what’s she like? You hung out with her quite a lot.” Yoongi’s voice dipped, muttering something to Namjoon whose fingers stopped scrolling, a pensive expression on his face now. You glanced back at your screen, frowning, wondering what Yoongi must’ve said.

Namjoon didn’t answer for a long time and you had to keep glancing over, just in case he was actually muttering too and you were just not hearing anything but nope. He remained silent for a good long while, staring down at the coffee cup in front of him.

“I think…I think I would’ve preferred to work with this Kayla.”

You froze, your fingers hovering over the keys, making zero noise. You wished the other people in the café would quiet down and Namjoon would repeat himself but only this time you’d hear something else, something positive, something not so utterly crushing.

“Oh, she’s not up to the standard?” Yoongi asked.

“It’s…its stupid. I know it’s a shitty thing for me to say, but -,” But he was still going to go ahead and do it. He was still going to get those words out, unaware that you were able to hear him and have your gut wrenched.

What was wrong with you? Why were you not good enough to work with Kim Namjoon? Was it the rambling or blurting out thing? Was it the inability to retain composure? Had you messed up during a meeting that he was holding a grudge against? Did you somehow embarrass him during the gala? Had he already complained about you to his management and members, told them that this was the last time you were to work with them?

They had hushed up now, clearly having a private conversation and you were thankful. You didn’t know how you could handle hearing more. And you definitely didn’t want the rest of HYBE staff to hear how pathetic you were to their stars. If word got back to Smeraldo, you’d be fired. You’d lose everything.

You shut the laptop screen quietly, a hand sliding your things from the table top straight into your bag. Slinging your stuff onto your shoulders, you walked out of the room – out of the building – away from anything related to BTS.

***

You were resolute the next day, walking into Smeraldo with no words of greeting spoken to anyone. You got to your floor and then marched straight into Rena’s office, hurriedly knocking the prologue to the urgency of your matter.

“Y/N, what’s wrong? Did something happen?” Rena frowned, actually getting up from her seat when you stumbled in.

Something did happen, yes. I got way in over my head.

“I…I…need to um, change – the BTS project. I can’t do it anymore.” The words rushed out, thick and unintelligible but Rena apparently got the gist of it because she dropped her shoulders, crossing her arms.

“What happened?” she asked flatly.

I have a crush on my subject and he thinks I’m the worst thing to happen since the rise of patriarchy.

“Nothing serious; I just…I’m not cut out for this Rena. I told you that day of the meeting. It’s too much, I can barely sleep, can’t eat.”

Ok, provided that was only one day because your mind was too obsessed thinking about what you heard but still – you could definitely apply the cases.

“What are you talking about? You just gave me your stats two days ago. You were fifty three pages in and climbing.”

“Yeah well I’m not happy with it. I’ve been writing in a daze. Please Rena.” You begged; you’d have gotten on your knees at that point but mercifully, after about nine seconds of shrewdly eyeing you, she finally sighed.

“Well, I can’t say I’m not disappointed – and very, very surprised. You’re one of the better writers at Smeraldo, Y/N; I wouldn’t have pushed you for this if you weren’t. I believed in you. But I can’t make you work if you’re not happy and I certainly can’t let it affect this collaboration. It wouldn’t help anyone – so…fine. We’ll make the change. I’ll have the boss send an email…and you can personally go and hand Kayla all your material on the job so she can start as soon as possible. We still have time to make it up I think.”

You nodded, surreptitiously wiping a streak of moisture that had escaped without notice before you paused. And then you put in a request for Rena to consider before grabbing all your notes, drafts and your work laptop and walking up to Kayla’s more spacious cubicle.

She was reading a magazine when you tapped the side wall, eyes rising up to yours before her eyebrows raised at the amount of things you were carrying. Without preamble, you let them crash on to her neat desk.

“Uh, what the hell are you doing?”

“I’m not doing Namjoon’s bio anymore. They want you to do it.” Namjoon wanted her, in particular.

Kayla stopped scowling, looking at you in confusion before her face darkened again. “Listen Y/N, I don’t care much for charity -,”

“It’s not. I swear it’s not Kayla. I really, really can’t do it anymore. Please…please just take it off my hands.”

Slowly, her face cleared, eyes still examining yours for any insincerity before she picked up your notebook, carding through the pages.

“It’s a little shocking, I’ll admit but fine. But you…why are you giving it up? It’s BTS. It’s probably the biggest break you’d ever get.”

You shrugged, unwilling to converse more than necessary about this. “I just felt bad…and ill about it.” You didn’t exaggerate and Kayla didn’t ask you to elaborate. You glanced down at the biggest bag which you’d placed under her desk. The box was still exquisitely white and unblemished.

“Can you just do me one last favor?”

“What?”

“When you see Namjoon, can you give that bag back to him? Tell him thanks for everything.”

***

The days passed quickly, each one easier than the last as you decided to stuff your stupid, pointless feelings – hurt and otherwise into one single compartment: DO NOT TOUCH.

Namjoon had had to meet with Kayla quickly, to put in effect the plans that the senior writer was going to play with. She already had your notes, but they would still have to spend some time together just so she could get a feel of his prologue and run with it.

It had taken about two visits from Kayla before your phone started to act up.

He sent a text first. At a decent time…you were at work, taking a small break when the ping came. You promptly slid the notification aside and pushed the nagging in your head to look at it into that one compartment. An hour passed…then another before another message came. You couldn’t help but glance at the words even as you slid it out of focus.

Are you ok? What’s going on?

Namjoon didn’t text again for the remainder of the day and you heaved a sigh of relief. It would be easier to not mess with that box of goodies in your head if only anything pertaining to Kim Namjoon was taken out of your path.

Only…he decided to call you…

As soon as you entered your little apartment and took off your shoes, flexing your toes, the trill of your ringtone made you fumble in your bag. You almost slid the call to accept, catching yourself just in time when you saw the big white KIM NAMJOON flashing on the ID.

You stared at the name, a proverbial finger dancing over the latch of the compartment. But you couldn’t…you couldn’t mope over him again; you had given an entire day of wallowing up to his name.

Again, you heard him preferring Kayla. You placed the phone onto the coffee table and went into the bathroom to change.

Namjoon’s persistence remained impressive though. He called and texted every day ranging from thrice to five times. Almost every time you frowned. You had given him Kayla. What more could he want? He was desperate to know if you were okay, wondering if something had happened to you and that Smeraldo was trying to cover it up but you couldn’t bring yourself to put him at ease.

Also, it was getting steadily difficult to keep his name out of your life. BTS was worldwide, he was a global entity. He was everywhere…the media, the news, there were even fucking standees in malls for them.

But your job was keeping you busy, mercifully.

The day you had gone to Rena to ask her to put Kayla on the bio project and take you off, you’d also asked to be moved to a different section of jobs, just for the time being – till you could come back to yourself, or so you told her.

In reality, the editing and beta reader position that you now held was time consuming and kept you focused and engrossed enough to not think about the idol. Not every piece of writing was amazing, but fiction was fiction and you gladly succumbed to romances and fantasies that were wildly improbable - simply because they were possible in their worlds.

You could not be more grateful to Rena for this. You finished more than your quota of three manuscripts a day, sometimes even staying up at night if one was particularly interesting. You knew you’d have to go back to writing someday but for now, you wanted to do a good job so you wouldn’t let down Rena more than you already had.

You shuddered to think of returning to your laptop. It was a mistake to think that you were cut out for this job. There was a certain level of coldness required to be a writer – the sheaves of paper in front of you proved that. You had none of that ruthlessness in you. You were too soft, too sheltered. You had grown attached to a subject that you were supposed to present as facts. Instead you had painted him in a fantastic palette of misdirected emotions that he was under no obligation to act upon.

And so now you were hurt…and it was your own fault.

To write again, you would first need a spine, one forged in titanium instead of the malleable clay that had wrapped around the fingers of others so easily.

In some days of your ruminations…Namjoon stopped calling and texting and you were then rudely interrupted by Kayla, striding over to deliver news you hadn’t asked for.

“Mr. Kim took the dress back.” she announced as soon as she pressed herself at your desk. You looked up from your fourth manuscript of the day, peering at her through your glasses. Your back was sore and your neck felt lodged.

“He’s asking about you.”

“Okay,” you said slowly, clearing your throat before reaching for a bottle of water. “I’m okay.”

“He said he reached out but you never responded. Why don’t you respond? He’s obviously concerned.” She continued, putting an unnecessary emphasis on ‘obviously’. It irked you.

“He was my subject matter. Now he’s not. It’s inappropriate.” You barely kept from snapping, shrugging noncommittally. Kayla was still there, eyeing you in that way, that made you feel smaller than her.

“Well, I don’t think he feels it’s inappropriate. He’s enquiring about someone he considers a friend. He’s been known to care about friends.”

You put the manuscript down finally. You looked up at her blankly but she didn’t flinch. Instead Kayla returned your heavy look with one of hers, raking you down with an appraising look. After a few moments of silence she gracefully straightened and turned on her heel, returning to her cubicle.

You picked up your manuscript again.

***

The cursor was blinking again. The walls of your cubicle needed a wipe down. Some of the pens in your drawer needed replacing. You revolved on your chair once – twice – thrice before facing the darn cursor again.

It had been two days since Rena had asked (basically commanded) you to return to your original post. One because you had gotten through the work she’d set aside for you. Second because Smeraldo’s projects were lining up and they needed their writers to buck up. You being one of them now needed to get in the game.

Or you would lose your job. After all, even though Rena treated you like a sister, it didn't mean she was going to baby you forever. Her own job would be on the line.

So you returned, starting out slow, with slogans and advertising scripts. Only…advertisements meant media research…and you knew what you were going to see the first thing you delved into that.

When your phone rang, you were almost eager to get to it. Namjoon hadn’t called in a while – it was safe again. You glanced at the unfamiliar number once, curious before you pressed the accepted call to your ear.

“Hello?”

“Y/N,”

The deep thrum of his voice reverberated in your ear, travelling straight through your heart – setting it to thump unsteadily – and landed deep in your belly, burning uncomfortably.

Your fingers tightened around the device, unable to speak, unable to pull it away from your ear, unable to comprehend simply hanging up. Instead you helplessly muttered his name. The two syllables were heavy on your tongue, some emotion injected in them that you doubted he could sense over the phone.

It irked you that you had so easily been caught unaware. You had paid attention to every text, every call for so long, swiping him out of your sight to avoid the temptation and here he was, smartening up and using another number altogether.

You guessed his IQ really did pay off.

When he spoke again, there was no weight in his tenor, no sense of concern that Kayla had said he felt about your absence. If anything he sounded cold, indifferent – as if you were just another person he was talking to.

And you were...you couldn’t mean anything to him.

“How have you been? It’s been quite some time.” He said, formal, aloof.

“Yeah, I’ve...I’ve been keeping busy. What...about you? How are you?” You mumbled.

“I’m fine. The bio is going on fine, I heard from Kayla.” He seemed to be moving while he spoke, you could hear distinct shuffles around him.

“That’s nice. So, is something wrong? Did you need something? If you lost Kayla’s number –”

“Can I not call you unless there was something wrong?” he cut you off smoothly, pleasant while you stumbled to correct yourself.

“No, I didn’t mean it like that. I was just –”

“Anyway, so the boys wanted to throw a party in celebration of the album finalization. It’s a dinner and games thing so be prepared to be bored if you’re not into that. They wanted to invite you because you were part of the bio making process.”

They...they were inviting you, not him. It seemed silly, to be stung by such a tiny little detail but you couldn’t help the down-turn of your lips, the frown settling upon your brows. “What about Kayla?”

“I don’t know, maybe one of the boys will get to it. So, do I count you in?”

“Why me, Namjoon, I left the project, didn’t I?”

“Is that a no?”

You sighed, annoyance surging at the way he deliberately ignored your pointed remarks. “Fine, I’ll be there.”

“See you at 7. You know where the dorm is. Just tell the front desk you’re here for BTS and give them your name.”

He hung up before you could spill out another question, pose another objection. You looked irate at the blackened screen, feeling used and mocked yet again. He had reached you so long after you cut him off and he had had the gall to sound miffed with you? You stuffed the phone back into your back.

The evening would last long. You vowed that this would be the last time you would have anything to do with Kim Namjoon.

***

You had been intimidated by the idea of BTS before. After spending a few days with Namjoon, you could appreciate them being normal men, seven men who just wanted to make music, who were young, a little dorky but overall just themselves.

Coming here, standing in front and looking up at the gigantic building that housed the dorm of BTS and their separate private apartments, you could only feel the previous nerves spiking again.

Your fingers were shaky as you pushed open the heavy glass door, thick enough to stop bullets and made your way to the marble front desk.

The concierge, decked out in a cream vest outfit, politely smiled at your approach – too professional to not rove his eye critically over your modest dress. You were at the dorm of BTS, after all. You couldn’t show up in jeans for a dinner party.

He nodded when you relayed your name, giving Namjoon’s reference which had them flurry to get you an elevator. Once trapped in the sleek metal box, the chiming numbers indicated your rising panic.

What were you doing?

Why were you here?

You had cut them out of your life for a reason. Why would you willingly show up again? Inside, of course, you knew the reason. You had unsettled issues. You wanted to talk this out with him. But you couldn’t – which again, added to the question as to why you would accept his invitation in the first place?

There was no way you were brave enough to stand in front of Kim Namjoon and ask him to explain himself.

When the doors opened; the wide hallway only led to one set of double doors. You looked around once; just to make sure that you were on the right floor and not about to barge into some unwitting souls’ suite.

Walking to the etched wood, you knocked a hurried patter that sounded abnormally loud. You didn’t even have to wait long. The door swung open almost immediately, as if he was waiting right inside for you.

Namjoon stood in a simple black long sleeve, rolled up till his elbows. His jeans stretched tightly along the length of those legs. Huh, he was wearing jeans...go figure...

“Come in Y/N.” He said, walking back into the house. You followed, slower, clutching your bag strap like the first day.

It was...relatively clean, being the house full of men. It was also too big for you to take in everything. You supposed they needed the space, each one with a personality of their own but together all the time. You wondered if they had studios in the two storey house too.

You focused on Namjoon, who had by now moved to the sitting area, flicking through some pages, not paying any attention to you. There was no sound. No one came to greet you, not even Jin who you thought was the actual host.

It was...suspiciously quiet.

“Namjoon,” You called. “Where is everyone?”

The man only shrugged his shoulders for a second and it seemed that he wasn’t about to answer your question at all. However, at the very last moment when you were about to repeat yourself unwillingly, he muttered. “They went out to eat.”

What?

They were out to eat? After calling you over to have dinner and play games?

“So...we have to go and join them or something?” you asked.

Namjoon sighed painstakingly, as if you were disturbing his peace but he finally dropped the papers onto the coffee table and stood up, hands in his pockets.

“No, Y/N, we’re not going to join them.”

What the hell was going on here exactly?

“We’re going to talk.”

You had opened your mouth when he finished his sentence, pausing in contemplation to what he could possibly want to talk about. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m saying I want answers, Y/N. Why did you stop coming over all of a sudden? Why did you stop working on the bio and give it to Kayla? Why didn’t you pick up your phone when I called you? Why didn’t you answer my texts? What the fuck happened?”

You blinked, once, staring at him in shock mingled with annoyance. There was a lot to Kim Namjoon; you would be the first to admit it. But you never took him to be this cruel.

“Why are you even asking me these questions? I wasn’t competent enough for you. So I did the right thing, I gave the work to someone who could match your standards. End of story; I don’t understand why you had to bring me here.” Your vehemence faded by the end of it, leaving you to drop your head and mumble half the words at your shoes.

You kept staring down when Namjoon didn’t say anything in retaliation. Seconds ticked by and finally you had to glance up to see Namjoon’s face tight, jaw clenched and he drummed his fingers over crossed arms.

“Unfortunately,” He began when your eyes met. “Doubt and Insecurity are two things that every artist struggles with in their line of work. There are no ways around them; you simply have to push through them. Work through them, Y/N; but you can’t let it take you away from your passion. If you felt doubtful of yourself, you should’ve talked to me, or any of us...you didn’t have to brand yourself incompetent and give into this negativity.”

If you had two cents of courage you would’ve screamed at him. Indeed, Kim Namjoon was a cruel man – a blind man.

And your nerves had finally grown into something more ferocious.

“I gave in? I’m sorry, Namjoon, but when your client is the one that ‘brands’ you incompetent, you kind of have to give in. You are the one who said you preferred Kayla. So I gave you exactly what you wanted. So stop pretending like you care about my insecurities and my doubts.”

Namjoon gaped at you like a fish, eyes wide and thoroughly confused. He held up a hand immediately. “What the hell are you talking about?”

You snapped. “I heard you, that day, talking to Yoongi about how you would’ve preferred it if it was Kayla who was working on the bio rather than me. If I was bothering you that much or if you found me – I don’t know, not a good writer, you could’ve at least been professional about it. You could’ve emailed the company and asked for a switch, instead of bad-mouthing me to your damn members!”

Both of Namjoon’s hands were up in the air now, defensively. His eyes flickered around his house as he attempted to place the scenario you were describing to him. You saw the light bulb go off about a few seconds after. His demeanour changed immediately. His hands lowered, face cleared and his eyes scrunched before he did the worst thing imaginable that he could’ve done at that moment.

He laughed.

His body bent forward, hands clasping his stomach as his shoulders shook. His head dipped, chortles echoing around you as you stood rooted to your spot, stricken by his mirth.

In the moments that he managed to raise his head, he caught sight of you and laughed again, eyes watering.

You were seeing red. His frame lit up in flames in your head, fuelling you to whirl about on your heel. You marched away, almost at the door when fingers wrapped around your elbow, stopping your next steps.

You turned, seeing Namjoon already there, still smiling.

“Let me go.” You said firmly.

“I didn’t say I would’ve preferred Kayla to you because I thought you weren’t a good fit for the job, Y/N.” He said instead, hand loosening on your arm but not quite letting go. “I said it because...well, I was afraid I would be breaching our contract. Since...I kind of wanted to take you out.”

You stood there, watching Namjoon’s eyes flicker between yours, waiting for a reaction. His hand was still loosely cupping your elbow, fingers warm and splayed out over the skin. His thumb briefly brushed over the bone as if checking that you hadn’t frozen over.

But you had...you were standing stock still, staring up at the idol, uncomprehending the words that had spilled out of him. He had just said something very controversial, very brave...and very confusing.

You thought back to all your hangouts. The long talks that you scribbled down with your tongue poking out the corner of your mouth, the walks that you took, sometimes huddling together with shivers due to the cold weather, sharing hot coffees and chocolate ice creams. Telling him about yourself when he wanted a break and needed to listen instead of supply conversation. Then they changed to his texts, the good morning or good night texts that he would send, the occasional music recommendations and book suggestions.

And then the night of the Gala...that stunning dress...his behaviour...

Nowhere in any of these cases had you seen anything that spelled anything other than friends being friends. He had never flirted brazenly with you, simple banter being the only form of cheek you could recall. He was after all; your client and anything that could offend or upset him would result in your suspension.

“That’s...that’s...impossible. You never – not even once – I didn’t ever get the idea, not ever,” You fumbled over your words, pulling away or trying to once again but Namjoon shrugged, smiling sardonically.

“Well, I couldn’t exactly come out and say it, could I? You were working with me, for my company. I know the kind of pressure you must’ve been under. If I did say something, you’d have been obliged to agree because you’d think you owed it or something, just to keep the job. I didn’t really want to put you in the spot like that. The night of the gala I got carried away. I had a plus one and if I had to take someone, I wanted it to be you. I begged Taehyung to put the outfit together because I’m shit at high end fashion but you looked absolutely gorgeous and yeah, I owe Tae a thousand favours now but it was worth it.” He took a breath.

“I was waiting for the project to be over so I could actually, properly ask you out but well, I guess you heard me being an idiot that day and...” he waved his free hand vaguely.

“Oh,” you mumbled, your eyes leaving him and travelling back down to the floor. What else could you say? Sorry, I was eavesdropping on your conversation and got my feelings hurt and acted like a child? Yeah, you didn’t think that’d go over well.

“Which brings me to the question, why did you stop?” His thumb brushed over your skin again, prodding your attention to him and you shrugged like him, mumbling something about doing right by the client.

“Bullshit, if you wanted to do right by the client, you would’ve waited for me to say something. Changing people like that could’ve resulted in a breach lawsuit and I doubt you’d have risked that.”

You looked up at him again, irritated. Why did he have to poke holes in your admittedly stupid story? Hadn’t he shaken your world enough by telling you that THE KIM NAMJOON wanted to ask you out?

“You hurt me.” You hissed. “You made me think I was inept and it hurt my feelings because I’ve been attached to you and this book since day one. I finished the bio at home, for fuck’s sake. I lost objectivity when it came to you because you’re adorable, scary smart, caring, generous, a total goof and it doesn’t help that you look like a damn sculpture all the time.”

You yanked your arm one last time, successful this time around because Namjoon smiled widely, shyly, deep dimples poking into his cheeks that had you internally melting from how cute he was.

“I want to kiss you.” he said simply. “May I?”

What were you going to do, say no?

Instead, horrifyingly you started to sniffle. “You better, because I’m really ashamed right now and I will start crying.”

Namjoon was quick to cup your face, cooing over your squished cheeks in his large palms and he brought you closer, closer and closer to himself. Your hands clutched at the sleeves of his shirt while he pecked you lightly, dropping a flurry of equally soft and fast pecks on your cheek, the tip of your nose and chin before returning to your lips, delving deeper, testing the waters.

Your eyes fell shut, revelling in the plumpness of his lips as he delicately trailed them over yours, smacking kisses over you till you let out a giggle.

“Finally, she smiles.” Namjoon beamed at you, leading you back until you were gently propped against the door, your head comfortably resting on the wood and he deepened the kiss, bowing and moulding his body with yours.

“Should we be doing this here?” You asked nervously, when his lips began to travel over your jaw.

“The boys won’t be back for a while but we can head to my room if you want?” He wriggled his eyebrows at you, heat pooling into the skin he still held between his hands.

“Uh, I’m good here.” You muttered to his amusement. His eyes travelled back to your mouth, eyes hooding and then he was slowly leaning in again. You met him halfway and his mouth opened with the barest brush of tongue when loud pounding sounded right on the other side of the doorway, laughter and footfalls sounding the arrival of the rest of the band.

You moved away just as the door flung open, six boys piling in, “Can you believe none of us thought to grab our wallets, we have to go back and tell manager-nim to get the car again –” Jin grumbled with the boys stopping to gape at you in Namjoon’s arms as the two of you blinked at them like deer in headlights.

Then chaos erupted.

The whoops and cheers of ‘finally’ made you drop your head in a shy grin with Namjoon groaning behind you.

“Namjoonie finally got some!”

“OH SHUT UP!”

#thebtswritersclub #btswritingcafe #btsghostie #btshoneyhive #namjoon fanfic #bts fanfic #namjoon fluff #namjoon angst #bts fluff #bts angst #bts #namjoon x reader #namjoon

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mgsapphire · 3 years ago

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Ethics and morality... and how they're not the same...

Weird title, and I don't even know if I'll properly approach this one with all the topics I wish to this discuss in today's The Devil Judge essay, because a lot of things peaked my interest, I was debating on doing a separate post for each subject, but I'll do them all in here:

Starting simple

I know we're only 4 episodes in, but I want to break down the things that I often look for in a new show:

Cinematography

Soundtrack

Character building

Plot devices

Social commentary (sometimes)

Of course, these are things most people would consider basics, but I find that a lot of TV shows don't have enough balance in them. Also, cinematography and soundtrack are pretty up there for me because when a plot gets slow, or something like that, I stay for those two (biggest example: King Eternal Monarch).

The soundtrack in The Devil Judge is amazing and the cinematography can be a character of its own. They really get me hooked and are used as tools to properly tell a story. And I'll get into that further down this post.

The onlooker will never understand the actor

Experience is your best friend not only applies to job hunting, but it's true in the real world too. You can't truly weigh in on something unless you've experienced it yourself, you can give it your judgment and everything, but when bad things happen to someone, you'll never truly understand their pain. Am I bringing up because of the difference of mind in Judge Kang and Judge Kim's opinions? On how the public treated the minister's son? No. I'm talking about a very specific scene, where the cinematography told me to think that way and not the dialogue (it's that easy for my mind to be swayed). In episode 3, when the rich are about to dine right after the foundation's commercial for a better future, we see this aerial shot:

What's interesting about this? The seclusion and the enclosed feeling it conveys as a counterpart to the poverty shots we were just shown. Yet, these are the people making ads for a better future, what do they know?

They live comfortably behind concrete walls with no windows to see what goes on apart from the bubble they live in. This idea is further enforced at the party in episode 4, where they're not even a part of the donations, and watch and mock from afar as spectators. Yet, these people call the shots. They even call it commenting, as if they were watching the pain of others on TV.

The intriguing personality and the duality it encites

Now, this was a costume and wardrobe decision, but it was also very well thought of:

Judge Kim wears white and Judge Kang wears black. One is morally perceived by viewers of the show as morally good and the other is perceived as morally dubious at best. However, besides the costume and wardrobe thought put into this, we also have to think about the delivery of this scene and how it may further affect my detailing of this section. Judge Kang brings down the coats, and hangs over the coat to Judge Kim, he's the one who is making that annotation: You're pure, I'm tainted. This can have one of two interpretations:

Either Judge Kang believes Judge Kim to be pure and innocent due to his status as a rookie in the field

Or he believes Judge Kim to be morally white and himself morally black as he's looking at his brother's face and not at Judge Kim's heart.

Because most of the back story we're unveiling is through Judge Kim's perception, there's also an inherit bias we're having as well, because in Judge Kim narrative, he believes he's doing what's right and believes Judge Kang to be evil. In being served information about Judge Kang through Judge Kim's eyes, our bias is inherently skewed.

Another thing is that, when they put on the coat, they're standing in front of the other, as if the producers of this series are telling us they're two sides of the same coin.

The duality is made in more deceitful ways, which include:

A difference of classes that implies one has suffered while the other has not.

A difference of experience that implies one is more tainted while the other is pure.

A difference of age that implies one is a sly fox while the other one is is bunny about to be eaten.

A difference of temper that makes one erratic and the other logical.

Power dynamics

This one, in this one I could make a whole thesis based on just a couple of scenes in the drama. And you know I have to mention it: director Jung being the puppeteer.

It may not be as unexpected at first, nevertheless it brings forward a lot of things I've wished to touch upon for quite some time now. A woman being a puppeteer of an old man in the portrayed dystopia that The Devil Judge is painting makes much more sense than more common demonstrations of these dynamics where it's either a:

A man of power being controlled by a bigger man of power.

A man of power being controlled by a seemingly man of a lower status.

A woman being controlled by a man of power.

Although, there's nothing wrong with those power dynamics, and if they were to be used, a message could also be conveyed, this one in particular works as a megaphone.

A subversion of power in such a way can be interpreted as a true indication of the weak overcoming the powerful. Why? It is not that woman are naturally weaker than men, but that in society, patriarchy has been a big factor in taking voice away from women in order to give it to men.

In order for Director Jung to achieve her purposes, it's smarter for her to do it under the pretense that an old rich man in power is the one calling the shots.

This is better exemplified by her stance when the old man tries to excuse his behavior, and what her moral compass is. I'm not saying I agree with her unethical conduct, but that her morality is directly impacted by the perception of the public of her as a weak woman:

Just because a dog bites a human does the person get dirty?

This is telling on how she perceives the actions of the old man in gropping the waitress. She didn't do anything wrong, even if you touched her, you are the dirty one.

While she's evil, it's a refreshing and deep evil.

The public's opinion and how there's actually logic in the show's portrayal

The public opinion can make or break a person, even if it's not on a public trial like this. While "cancel culture" barely works in today's society, a person's reputation is forever tainted. The show does tell that, but it also exhibits the scary downside of it, by showing how easily it was to make people accept flaggelation as a fitting punishment.

There are many experiments that have tried to test the effect of societal pressure on an individual's decision and the effect of the authority's enforcement of power in the outcome of these decisions. Furthermore, theories based on analysis of human behavior not necessarily relying on experiments can also help break this down. What do I mean? Here's a small attempt at explaining:

Milgram Experiment on Authority: which measured the individual willingness to carry out actions that go against their conscience due to an authority's approval.

Argument from Authority; The idea that people are more likely to use an authority's opinion on something as an argument for their reason. This is often seen in science, where trusted authorities have done the research and offer it to the public. In here, authority bias also plays a role, as we often believe, at first, that an authority must be right.

Moral disengagement: basically speaking, because this is evil or bad, I'm not part of it and I most probably am not actively participating in it. One may disengage by moral justification, which means that before engaging in something that has been previously perceived as immoral, I'm changing my stance on it based on what I tell myself to be logical arguments. This particular form of moral disengagement is very effective in changing the public opinion. I'll be touching on another form further down this post.

Other factors played a part, but these ones in particular came to mind when public flagelation as a form of corporeal punishment was wildly accepted. First, an authority is the one telling them it's correct, to go ahead. Secondly, another authority (the minister) had previously shown approval to such unusual punishment. Thirdly, they are not the ones to be engaging directly in the act, and even if they were, it would be acceptable because an authority has told them so. They may even believe the punishment to be a necessary evil for the greater good.

In fact, the minister's son was actually correct when pleading his case, they were accepting it because it wouldn't affect them directly.

Regarding the cinematographic descent of the public opinion regarding the situation can better be exemplified by the old man we've seen through the episodes.

Does suffering justify misdeeds?

Today I came along the difference between excuse and reason. You may give a reason for your behavior, but it doesn't excuse it.

Not because I've suffered through shit, means I have to make you suffer too.

I may explain myself, but it's on the other side to excuse me.

Why I hate the unreliable narrator and why I love it so much

This story has been told mostly through the eyes of Judge Kim and what he hears and sees regarding Judge Kang, if anything, the narrative is very close to that of the narrative we've seen in The Great Gatsby. An enigmatic man is being narrated to us from the eye of a man who hasn't known him for a long time.

How is that an unreliable narrator? The narrator has their own set of bias and moral standards which function as lenses through which they see the world.

Another way of putting it would be the way teenage romances are often written in a first person narrative where either of the two teenagers is the narrator, so the author can sell to us something as simple as offering a pack of gum as the most romantic act on earth. We're perceiving interactions through rose tainted glasses.

In this case, we're seeing the interactions through Judge Kim's eyes who doesn't trust Judge Kang from the get go due to his own preset bias.

The narrative becomes even more unreliable as we're not exactly sure if what Judge Kang disclosed himself is a fact.

The reason why I love this narrative is because it leaves a lot of space to make simple plot twists to a narrative and make them seem grand, and can elongate a story without making it obvious.

The reason why I hate it is because sometimes, in tv shows mostly, we as viewers can see the other side of the story and grow increasingly frustrated with the main character's prejudice and misunderstandings (I'm looking at you my beloved Beyond Evil).

Also, because I have to wait for a long time before I actually have a clear picture of it.

#kdrama #kdramas #kdrama recommendations #analysis #rant #the devil judge #got7 #park jinyoung #ji sung #kdrama meta #kdrama quotes #kdrama analysis #meta #the great gatsby #kim min jung #please dont let this flop

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aquirius555-musings · 3 years ago

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Pursuing Your Purpose Over Grabbing the Bag

The Necessity of Motivation in Pursuit of Wealth

Being a witch with ADHD can be contradictory at times. And now is one of them. I am confident that wealth follows and it does not lead. I am comfortable not leading my life in pursuit of wealth. However, I am still a human existing on this planet, a planet where wealth not only leads, but having some form of income is a necessity for survival. For most, a steady income is a necessity for creating a comfortable, safe, and healthy environment to prosper in this decaying world.

I am in a position where I have less wealth than I ever have before, but I have also achieved more dreams than I ever have before. I am living in a place I have dreamed about since I was young. I am living among the mountains and the great glory of this Earth’s nature and all it has to offer. I am living with and building a family of humans and animals that love me greatly and our soulmates of mine. I am living as a witch who believes in my value and abilities.

These things drive my passion, my hope, and my willingness to do more than simply survive. My willingness to always push to be thriving. What doesn’t drive this will to live fully is paid work, perceived achievement/success, and valuing profit.

It is very difficult for me to “show up” as my full self or with 100% energy when I am not intrinsically motivated by the values I consider most important. These are things I typically do and express in spades. Especially, in critical situations and oftentimes to a fault or to the great annoyance of others.

However, I’ve learned the hard way in my adult years that when I try to pursue things that don’t fulfill my soul purpose or innermost values, I not only fail, but I suffer greatly, relapse, and regress.

ADHDilemma

As I referenced in my introductory post, I was a high-achiever growing up. This is also a result of being an AFAB person and an empath with severe ADHD. I knew all the rules, I studied hard, I hyper-focused, I hyper-felt, I had way too many varied interests that were always changing, I wanted to win, to be loved as I was, and I took rejection and torment to heart. This allowed me to rise up as a star student, star sibling, star employee. I masked the qualities and behaviors that I was ashamed of or the ones that led to torment, rejection, or guilt.

You see, I could read other people and knew when I was upsetting them or when they were intentionally upsetting me. This made it easy to designate different emotions, behaviors, reactions, and conflicts into different buckets in my head. There were buckets that were safe to dump out in public, within a specific system, or with certain people, and others that were not. I became a masked person instead of myself.

What societal rules mixed with my persona and neuro-status didn’t allow me to do was love myself, and therefore, it prevented me from being a star-friend, or at least being friends with those who had my best interest at heart. More than that, the lack of love I had for myself regressed my ability to be a caretaker for myself, to be spiritually aligned, and ultimately to be happy. I let so many people victimize me throughout my life because of this and therefore have accumulated my own traumas along the way.

I have now learned so much about myself, unlearned so many unhealthy habits and behaviors, worked through a lot of trauma, embraced so many emotions and qualities about myself. This makes it heartbreakingly difficult for me to face what I call “the old me”. I really do not align with this person anymore, and I don’t really feel them in me at the deepest levels, but at the surface they are fully present.

Old Habits Die Slowly and Painfully

This “old me” knew how to present on LinkedIn, in the professional world, knew how to do what I needed to do to get the job, to fit in, to lead the group, to follow the leader. Whatever was needed of me, I did it.

I am now in a really tough financial position. I don’t have enough money to pay my bills, get medicine, go to therapy, take my pets to the vet*, get groceries, get more soil for my plants, etc. I know that I need to make money, and I know that the thing stopping me has been restraining myself from pursuing higher-income gigs. I have been fearful that I won’t “make it” in this new field that I am pursuing and that I left my corporate job to pursue. This has been stopping me from taking the leap into freelance writing gigs, into seeking out magazines or sites to submit stories too, to recording my first podcast episode, to finish setting up my profiles for freelance sites that are connected to my LinkedIn or require examples of my work.

*Both my pets had full vet exams in April, I have simply not been able to afford a visit to a new vet for either pet since we moved. They are healthy.

Instead of going for these things that may make me more money AND fulfill the want and need I have to try to write and create content for things I am passionate about, I am settling for much less. Getting low $/hour to do low-brain-capacity work. A big part of this is feeling like I won’t be represented as I am now and for what I want to be doing, but rather for the “old me” because of the work I’ve done in the past for tech companies or consultants. The buyers of the work I want to do won’t have any specifically-relevant work to review. And the buyers of the work I used to do don’t want someone like me and I don’t want to write for those types of topics anyway.

So why am I stopping myself from presenting in my full form online? Why am I not believing in myself to do the things I went to school for, live and breathe and consciously learn about with my time?

Because I was always told that to succeed in business or in any field or industry, you need experience, presentation, professionalism, etc. And these things have always been defined through a straight, white, and male-driven lens. This means no tattoos, no colored hair, no piercings, no political issues or talk (even though what I want to discuss isn’t political to me, even if it’s politicized by the public). Why, no matter how much I oppose and despise those who set these “precedents and standards” do I still give in to them?

Because old habits die slowly, painfully, and only with a lot of work and resilience is it even possible.

Shadow Work Makes a Great Assassin!

The only one qualified to kill off these old, and frankly unwelcome, habits is with an old friend - Shadow Work. Suffice it to say, I think all of this means that Shadow Work is calling my name. It’s time to have a real focus on this as I also work to pursue my creative and professional dreams.

Shadow work allows us all to go inside and break down these old habits, old traumas, old blocks that come back our way to try and break down our soul. Consulting, tending to, and loving your shadow self can allow one to break free of these things, or even better, allow them to work for you and propel you on your journey to achieve your soul’s purpose.

To get started, I am working with this very poignant Full Moon that takes place tomorrow at its highest illumination. I have some shadow-work journal prompts, a Full Moon spell, and a ritual planned.

I guess sometimes, being an ADHD witch has it’s upsides too. Witchcraft is a tool that really helps me live a meaningful life despite the struggles that come with my ADHD. I am who I am, and embracing the intersections of these two identifying pieces of me allows me to pursue my soul’s purpose.

- Aquirius (July 2021)

#soulpurpose #purpose #witch #witchcraft #ADHD #AFAB #Enby #ADHDWitch #Writer #Shadow Work #Wealth #MakingMoney #BreakingHabits #BadHabits #ProjectAquirius #MyStory

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dragonrajafanfiction · 3 years ago

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Caesar and the MC should be Best Friends - Hear me out

This sounds really strange at first to hear. But the game did a terrible job of summarizing the story and showing the characters. The MC should be Best Friends with Caesar, check out why, below the cut.

Act One: The Premise (The MC will be referred to as Female because my character is female and I’m too lazy)

The MC has been trained to fight and use her abilities since she was a child. She’s been competing against others for the privilege of being the best as well. By the time she’s arrived at Cassell, she’s seen horrors that not even the Cassell Trio can boast of seeing.

Caesar in the meantime is planning his wedding. But Nono is AWOL. He’s getting no feedback from her and it leaves him just shooting in the dark for what ‘sounds cool’ For all of Caesar’s big talk, he realizes that he’s not really reaching Nono’s heart and he’s feeling a bit lost.

In the game: You save Nono in the game.

Why you would grow closer to Caesar: This is not easily reconcilable with the novel’s opening scenes, so if we stretch and pretend you arrive before Nono goes on her Walkabout, that would make one HECK of an impression on Caesar. He would have seen immediately that you are a step far above Luminous. Being a self-described ‘maniac’ he would not have been shy about approaching you and telling you you’re 10x what Luminous is.

Caesar is mischaracterized in the game to a great extent. While his misogynstic leanings and need to be ‘tHe LeADer’ is played up probably for laughs, he’s not that over the top. Here’s how he’s portrayed in the Novel.

Anjou put the two of them (Caesar and Chu Zihang) together and actually wanted them to sincerely cooperate? The move was similar to keeping lions and tigers in a cage, with Lu Mingfei stuffed between them like an innocent red panda. But Caesar decided to do his best, because this time he is the team leader. The success or failure of the task related to his honor, and for honor, he can bear anything. Along the way, he repeatedly warned himself to be generous, to have a leadership style, to be a corporal... Take Chu Zihang as a corporal to "victory", Caesar's heart is much more comfortable. This time he is immersed in the pink mood of preparing for the wedding, and he is feeling very charitable, even to Chu Zihang this serial killer looks more appealing.

There’s no way Caesar would ignore you as the MC. You would be of utmost interest to him. Far more interesting than Chu Zihang and Luminous. He takes responsibility for you as part of the team, he owes you one for Nono, and wants to see you succeed, probably more than anyone else there.

Act 2: Your arrival in Japan

The game skips the whole opening sequence introducing you to Chisei and Sakura. In the novel, those fancy Kimonos were given to you by Anjou and yes they all come with umbrellas. The whole scene is supposed to be funny. Chisei is mistaken for a tour guide, Lu Mingfei compliments Chisei’s Chinese in his own broken Japanese and fantasizes about cute maid cafes, Chu Zihang freaks Chisei out with his golden eyes by accident. So I imagine the MC stumbling and falling trying to walk in Geta.

But things get serious when the police show up and you realize that you’ve entered the country illegally and are now about to get arrested. The MC might voice that this make sense “Because I don’t have a passport or any identity. There was no way I’d ever get into the country.”

After Chisei loses the police, you’re taken to your rooms to stay for the night.

I wrote a little piece about this ‘here’

Why the MC and Caesar would grow closer: At the end of this scene, Caesar is completely isolated, drinking in his room and texting a silent Nono. This scene would change with you as the MC there. This would turn into an opportunity for you to bond. Perhaps you would notice him texting, talking about his love of Nono. You could touch on your past with him for the first time, or not, depending. He’d probably say something enthusiastically fiery and confidence building. He wants you to trust him and trust in yourself. For all his flaws, Caesar is very LIKEABLE and easy to understand. You don’t get into positions of power like his without some level of Charisma.

Act 3: The Mission Details

In the Game: This whole scene goes missing.

In the Novel: You take a whirlwind tour of Genji Heavy Industries. It’s an engineering marvel that is practically embedded in the central infrastructure of Tokyo (The building is seriously impossible and amazing but that’s for a nother post.).

You sit down with Masamune for tea. Immediately, something jumps out at Caesar.

“Are you Japanese?” Caesar gave Masamune Tachibana an examining look..

"I'm only half Japanese and the other half Russian." Tachibana said.

Caesar frowned, which made him think of the soviet icebreaker Lenin involuntarily.

"I've been in Japan for many years, and a lot of people don't see that I'm half Russian, Mr. Gattuso.” Tachibana said, inquiringly.

"Accents, your accents have Slavic characteristics, and you'll distinguish between hard and soft consonants, which are typical Russian pronunciations." Caesar said, "You're not just Of Russian Descent, You've Lived In Russia."

This is Lu Mingfei and Chu Zihang have no say in the matter since their two mother tongues are Chinese. But Caesar was aware when he heard the first words of Tachibana Masamune. He grew up as a different kind of man who could speak English, French and Spanish fluently in addition to Italian, and he could tell the language characteristics of every language spoken in Europe.

Even the wind demon villain Lang and yuan child in this seat are showing a surprised expression, it is clear that other owners do not know this matter.

Why this would bring you closer to Caesar: Not only would you pick up on the exact same thing, but he would speak with the same Russian accent as the MC. Languages are regional, Russia is a HUGE FREAKING COUNTRY. It would be no mistake that the Russian accent - Tachibana’s Russian accent - would match the MCs regional one. Depending on how much your MC would have told Caesar, Caesar would have picked up a whole lot. Why you were awakened now, why you were sent on this mission... but that’s not even all!!

Later on, Chisei shows up after Tachibana leaves. He’s given you more information on the Lenin and why its sinking seems suspicious. But then he says this.

"Yes, the Lenin passed through the nameless port of northern Siberia, took a precious dragon embryo, and the port was destroyed in a fire. No one knows where the embryo is going to be shipped, the final destination may be Japan, or it may just pass by, but apparently it failed to reach its destination and the dragon embryo fell into the depths of the trench. Embryos have been hatching slowly over the years, but we haven't been aware of them. ”

Now depending on how much your MC might tell Caesar at this point he may or may not notice more parallels between the story of the Lenin and your story. You’re a hybrid, from Siberia who survived not just a fire but a bombs and getting shot. Heck imagine being the MC listening to this and realizing that this mission is intimately connected with you. In the game this happens way late, but in the novel it’s right at the start!

Why this would bring you closer to Caesar: At this point none of this would have been shared between any of the others. This is something only Caesar and you would know, shared knowlege that would likely mentally bond you two as allies.

The next scene is just more obvious bonding time. They all discuss likes and dislikes, their personal goals, dreams, loves, and ideals. The MC would still have Caesars favor but Caesar would fall more and more for Chisei’s charms. He’s bored and wants to see some ‘real gangster’ stuff. So Chisei obliges and takes Caesar to an operation between two rival gangs fighting over turf.

This would be the first time you’ve seen Caesar actually get serious for once intimidating some gangsters in a comic store. But after that’s all over, he immediately gets interested in the comics. This is very important to note that Caesar is rarely serious about anything. And if he is it doesn’t last long. He tells a long story about wanting a PS2, staying up all night to play Star Ocean when the housekeeper smashed his console. So he purchased 200 consoles, gave the housekeeper an axe and every time he smashed a console he replaced it immediately and kept playing. Finally, they let him play video games 2hours a day after his riding lessons.

This is important. Caesar is pushy and insistent and confident because he HAS to be to be himself and defy his family. This is is something even Chu Zihang can respect and he makes up with Caesar after, realizing that Caesar’s way towards him wasn’t personal, good or bad, he’s always acting out towards his family.

With you, Lu Mingfei and Chu Zihang closer than ever, it’s time to actually go on the Mission. So lets recap: Caesar the Leader has pulled the team together, taken you off on entertainment, on adventures, and now just now, on the way to the mission. cooked for everyone while speedreading the the instruction manual for the Lenin.

Why would this bring the MC closer to Caesar? Uh, maybe because he seems pretty freakin’ competent? Almost effortlessly so? As Chu Zihang so succintly puts it: “Sometimes I admire Caesar. Whenever and wherever there are goals, he’s rarely afraid and never discouraged. In a group of people he will always be the one who inspires fighting spirit. People can choose how they live, Caesar is the kind of man who asks himself to live like a hero." The MC who has never felt so helpless in her life, could have easily been inspired by Caesar. That maybe she CAN get back to the Lenin, figure out who killed her friends and give him exactly what he deserves.

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anhed-nia · 4 years ago

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BLOGTOBER 10/20/2020: PULSE aka KAIRO (2001)

There's a moment in Kiyoshi Kurosawa's PULSE (aka KAIRO) in which two college students stand before a computer screen, watching a program that consists of softly glowing white dots drifting across a black void. One explains to the other that this is a computer science project in which dots that make contact are destroyed, but dots that grow too far apart will be drawn back together. This is an explicit metaphor for our ambivalent modern existence, in which internet-driven isolation becomes increasingly unbearable, but intimacy seems impossible, and even somehow perilous. This is PULSE's thesis statement, which it explores by proposing that when there is no more room in hell, the dead will come online--a breach of natural reality that dissolves the crucially meaningful line between life and death, with apocalyptic consequences.

In accordance with its obvious themes, Kurosawa's enormously creepy thriller about modern alienation--a release that was perfectly timed for the dawn of the new millennium in 2001--features a cast of disparate characters who struggle to connect with one another as they each grapple with the supernatural disaster that slowly bleeds from their computer screens into the physical world. At the start, a group of coworkers discover that their friend Taguchi (Kenji Mizuhashi), who has fallen out of touch while obsessively working on a computer program for them, has committed suicide. That's putting it simply; actually, when Taguchi lets his concerned friend Michi (Kumiko Aso) into his apartment to retrieve the disc, he casually hangs himself in another room. The sequence is beyond chilling, and it's relevant for me to admit that when Michi first encounters Taguchi, I couldn't be sure whether she was talking to him, or his ghost. As the group investigates Taguchi's fate, they are each contacted by spirits from the other side, which causes the living to begin to fade from existence; first they lose their will to live, then they lose their rational minds, and ultimately, they lose corporeality. Meanwhile, young luddite Ryosuke (Haruhiko Kato) installs the internet at his home for the first time, and immediately, something starts logging on independently, sending him upsetting images of people haunting their own darkened apartments. Terrified, he enlists the help of computer science student Harue (Koyuki), and together they come to the appalling realization that the dead are returning to Earth through the internet, as the living drift senselessly away.

There is so much rhetoric about the alienating powers of the internet now, that it's hard to discuss the subject without feeling like you're just cycling through clichés cooked up by an older, future-phobic generation. PULSE avoids this pitfall by remaining stubbornly abstract. When the living encounter the dead, after the invariably horrifying moment of contact, the live victim first experiences a profound lethargy, indicative of an ever-deepening depression; we understand that while the fear of the returned dead is the most immediate concern, the shattering of definitions that this causes is what catalyzes the victim's transformation from quivering flesh to a moldering stain that eventually flakes away and vanishes. Seeing the end of the world closing in, Harue observes that if the dead are forced to continue to suffer the maddening monotony of their mortal lives, then what distinguishes a person from a ghost? As life and death meld into a homogenous mass, our dwindling protagonists search for answers, trying to dismantle the mysterious images and phone messages sent from the afterlife, but they only succeed at making themselves more painfully aware of the inevitable. The audience experiences the hopelessness of this misadventure along with the heroes, unable to make any satisfyingly concrete meaning out of the bizarre phenomenon that is taking over the planet. It seems that life is made worth living by the contrast between things, and the expectation of change and evolution--even the simple daily change of being able to leave one’s apartment, and commune with others. When these possibilities are eliminated, and the disembodying effect of the digital world takes hold, life essentially becomes a version of hell.

Western audiences (of which you are probably a part, like me, if you are reading this) tend to balk at anything they can't fully understand, as if a film were a like a jigsaw puzzle with many pieces forming a rational whole, each piece having its own tidy function. As he often does, Kurosawa defies that longing for clarity and completion, and he gets away with it by building up an intensifying terror that feeds on our lack of understanding. Without a set of rules to live by--without a silver bullet, a wooden stake, or a detailed backstory--we are left with nothing to defend us against the appalling idea of the void gazing back at us, and ultimately absorbing us. Some characters in PULSE discover that they can seal the ghosts behind a door or window using red construction tape, but this doesn't always work, as an unfortunate young man finds out when he spots a frantic mass of tape plastered all over a solid wall, only to find the movie's most dreadful specter approaching him from behind. As far as one knows, there is no salvation to be found anywhere.

While preparing for this review, and trying to figure out how I was going to avoid the embarrassment of repeating the usual nonsense about how the internet desocializes you and rots your brain, I read an excellent review of PULSE by Washington Post critic Stephen Hunter. He observes wisely, "Pulse is best enjoyed if it's not questioned too closely. It lives visually in a way it cannot live intellectually". The truth is, I think movie viewers would benefit from this attitude in general, remembering that no movie participates in our quantum reality; they are only windows to various emotional states, demonstrations of different ways to process and cope with experiences that we can rarely fully understand and control even in "real life". PULSE provides a near-perfect description of our collective loss of control in the face of unstoppable digital assimilation. And much like the movie itself, I have no comforting conclusion to offer.

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mightynonagesimus · 4 years ago

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15 Minutes (What If I Told You)

ANGST WITH AN UNHAPPY ENDING. DO NOT READ FOR A GOOD TIME. This is a supercorp oneshot I wrote after I hear the title song. Very Angsty, you are warned. Trigger Warning : Angst, mentions of suicidal thoughts, depression, MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH. Obiviously. This is pre-apocalypse.

11:27,

Monday, July 13th

Lena's Loft,

National City.

It was very unnoticeable at first. Solar flares from a nearby galaxy far enough that they didn't think much of it. A few explosions a couple galaxies down hardly warranted the DEO's involvement. Besides, Earth had different things to worry about. The Team had different things to worry about. Probably. Lena wouldn't know anymore, would she? After the Fortress, she had taken extra precautions to block every single one of them out of her life. She didn't need anyone. She just needed to save the world.

And to be honest? Lena was ashamed it took her that long to figure it out. It wasn't like her. The Prodigy of her generation. The CEO of one of the biggest Tech Corporations in America. The sister of Earth's most infamous criminal mastermind.

If she had just gotten out of bed, checked any of her projects, called her secretary back. But she was too numb, too empty. Lying in bed, unable to move or think. Wishing to die. She couldn't even muster up the energy to lift a hand, it was just... pathetic.

After a week, Jess had had enough. It took Sam flying over from Metropolis to even get Lena out of bed. Sam had no idea about Kara, of course. But it didn't take long for her to march over to Alex's apartment and threaten her friend until the truth spilled. Lena had never seen that furious. Over Lena, of all people.

She didn't deserve Sam.

***

Sam had been pestering her all week. Bringing over food and staying with her every night. Lena felt like an asshole, taking up so much of her time. That was the main reason she returned to L-Corp after a week That was when she found out about the satellite malfunctions. Some radioactive signature was messing with their signals. That was fine, this was a problem Lena could fix, right? Easy.

Wrong. Turns out the signature was something her systems could recognize. Kryptonite. A giant chunky piece of Kryptonite and debris about the size of a small moon. A Krypto-Comet that was hurtling at half the speed of light from deep space, directly towards Earth.

Mondays, right?

Of course, she contacted the DEO immediately. They were horrified. For a Secret Government Agency handling the extraterrestrial, they had some shockingly bad tech. She wasn't really surprised. Also, they might have been slightly distracted with Leviathan. Lena had spent the next three days cooped up in a lab with Brainiac 5 desperately trying to come up with a way to deflect it or destroy it, or anything really. Usually, an Anti-Kryptonite suit and Supergirl would have taken care of the problem real quick, but considering the size of the comet and the excessive amount of Kryptonite on it, it just wouldn't be possible. There was no time to call for back-up from Argo City either, with the satellites malfunctioning.

The last five days were utter chaos. Naturally, the news hit the public hard. It was pandemonium, but how could you keep a goddamn meteorite impact from them? The skies were already turning purple.

Lena however, was still in her lab. Over the course of three days, a complete whirlwind of people checked in and out of her lab. People she had never met before. People she had never even heard of. Cisco Ramon, Caitlin Snow. A scientist named Raymond Palmer with some very interesting ideas on molecular structure and shrinkage. Felicity Smoak. Alex pulled her aside during lunch to explain about the Multiverse.

What. Even. What.

Okay.

It felt like her brain was exploding, but she was their best chance of saving the planet. She had to pull it together. She can't show any weakness.

Alex called for another excruciating meeting the second day.

"Attention! I have some news." Alex exhaled slowly. "Sara?"

"I'm sorry guys, but it's bad. We were unable to prevent this event from not occurring. It happens rarely, but this can't be prevented by modifying the timeline. It's inevitable. We have to find other ways."

"What if we move your population to our Earth?" Harry? Larry? The guy in red spandex asked.

"More than half out Earth's population have doppelgangers in yours. It will mess with the balance of your universe. We can't move them. How about finding an empty universe?"

"Kara is out looking for one, but every Earth we found was either ruined or full. That's too long a shot, I don't think we'll find one in time."

"Well, theoretically-" Brainy hesitated - "My ancestors had a way of...dealing with planets that disagreed with them. They would shrink them down and have them as trophies."

"We can't shrink the planet, the gravitation of the solar system would collapse and we would fall into the sun." Lena muttered distractedly, fiddling with her pen.

"Let's not do that. Any luck contacting Superman?"

"Radio silence. The radiation is messing with communications."

"We could push it through a wormhole, or a portal, but-"

"The comet will be here before we could begin to build it. What if we transport our people to a different planet?"

"Seven billion people on a different planet without nearly enough food and water?"

"Or maybe into a space station?"

"We have four days. To transport seven billion people. And essential items."

"Yeah, that's not gonna work either."

"Okay, let's keep at it guys." Alex clapped her hands together. "There IS a way, we just don't know it yet."

***

Yeah, there was no other way. The days went by in a whirl. They came up with theory after theory, but it was too late. Their world was going to end. Nothing can stop it.

During the last day, Alex ordered every non-Earth-38 person off the universe. And even though there was some resistance, everyone sombrely agreed it was the best move.

A surprising lot of friendships were made that week. World-ending threats tend to do that, apparently. Lena personally never wanted to experience Nia and Zari Tarazi try to cook a pizza together ever again. They almost blasted the dough halfway across the DEO building and into the miniature Nuclear Reactor.

Lena would never, not in a million years, ever admit it; but she wanted what they had.

She couldn't fathom that comfort, that mutual understanding of trust that Nia shared with Zari. How did they build it? How could they rely on it, when they had been strangers only a week ago? How could you share your secrets, yourself, with someone who could potentially turn against you, someone who could be lying through their teeth like Eve was, someone who might hate you just because of a name that you can't change?

Not that anything could be done now. It was too late.

They were gathered at the DEO training facility off-city to say their final goodbyes, except Lena was at L-Corp. It took her a while to accept it, but this time it was real. There was no hail mary, no high stake final masterplan left in her. She was going to die, along with her planet.

So it was the perfect time to break out her finest bottle of scotch.

The L-Corp building was deadly silent. Any other day, Lena would have enjoyed it. The building was almost never fully empty, with the security team and the journalists and the interns who never sleep. Today it put her on edge.

Because she did this. Lena caused all this, it was Lena's fault. She was the reason-

'Alex.'

The tiny blue screen lit up on her desk, ringing insistently. The tech mogul was almost relieved that something interrupted.

The silence. Interrupted the silence.

Lena brought it to her ear.

"Hello?"

"Lena!? Where the hell are you?" For a second, Lena relished the panic in Alex's voice. Of course, it probably was over the world ending, but she wanted to pretend that it was over Lena. That Alex actually cared about her.

"What do need me to do, Director Danvers?" Her voice was meant to be posh and clipped as always, but it came out slightly more drunk than she wanted it to.

"Wha-Nothing! I just couldn't find you anywhere so I thought I'd check up on you." Aww, Alex. You don't need to pretend, everything is gonna go to shit anyway.

"Is Sam still there?"

"Uh- Yes. Yeah, she's here. Do you want to talk to her?"

"Nooo." Lena considered it. "No, definitely not."

"Lena, are you drunk?"

Lena exhaled loudly. "Why did you call me, Director?"

"Because the universe is ending!" Lena cringed away from the phone. That was too loud for her sleep-deprived brain.

"I don't see your point." She huffed back.

"Goddammit. Look, Kara and I will keep looking for a solution, you don't need to worry, okay? You know she never gives up. Nia and the others-"

"Please just stop." Lena begged.

"I-Stop?" Lena could picture Alex's face. She hated that she did.

"I don't care! About anything, anymore. Just leave me alone. Goodbye, Alex."Sorry I pulled so much shit.

Lena switched it off and chucked it across the room, onto her couch. It bounced over the cushions and fell over.

She was alone, now.

"Hope?"

"Greetings, miss Luthor. What can I do for you today?" Hope was always here. Lena's only constant companion through everything. Even if it did wear the face of her traitor friend.

"You understand that this will be the last day?"

"Yes, miss Luthor-"

"Lena. Call me Lena."

The robot cocked its head to the side. Why did Lena program it so life-like?

"Lena. Would you like for me to call anyone else?"

"No, thank you. How long is it now?"

"Seventeen minutes and three seconds."

Lena cradled her head. It felt like her brain was swimming in the alcohol. At least she won't have to feel this tomorrow.

"Execute terminal orders and shut down, please."

"Executed. Goodbye, Miss Luthor."

The hologram blinked off. Lena swirled the last of the scotch in her glass. It didn't taste nearly as good as she hoped. She set it down in distaste.

God, this was all her doing, wasn't it?

If only Lex could see her now, pushing everyone away, alone and lonely on top of the empire that was built by her psychopathic family. Everything he said that day was true.

And it was all Lena's fault. Because she chose to trust Kara. She chose her new family. She wanted that. She craved that. Even when she knew she could never have it. She's always craved that. This wonderful 'family' she could love with all her heart. They would have been her people, they would love her no matter her last name. They would support her through hell and back. She fucking fantasized about how they would be there for her every birthday, about how she would shower them with love and affection, about game nights and road trips. She didn't give a shit about romantic, platonic, she just wanted someone to be there at the airport when she comes back from month-long expeditions through Europe.

It all seems so naive now. She was still here, on top of an empty building, because of her choices. Because of her stupid, stubborn pride. She must have chosen this, right? This is what she wanted. To be alone. Sixteen minutes from the world ending. She had chosen to be alone, bitter, angry at herself for doing what she had done.

Fuck, no.

But it was too late. Too late to accept her family, too late to enjoy them. Too late to save the world. Too late to apologize.

Too-fucking-late.

Fuuuuuuck, she messed up. What she wouldn't give to go back in time, find her younger self and...eughh. Berate her? Explain? Mug her? Lena had no idea.

This scotch tastes like shit.

Why is time so slow?

Tick.

Tock.

Her life is shit. She would like a refund.

Tick.

The alcohol is really getting to her brain, cause she found that funny.

Toc-

The entire floor rattled when the door flies open behind her. *

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?!" Oh hey, Sam. You did come.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" She crossed her arms, raising one brow at her CFO.

"Lena, no." Sam stomped over and wretched the glass away from Lena.

"Goddammit, leave me alone, Sam!" Why I am so shitty all the time Sam?

"No." She repeated firmly.

"What?"

"No. I should have done this a long time ago when I first got back here. I'm not leaving you alone, I'm not letting you drink yourself to death. I'm not let you wallow in your misery when the world is fucking ending and you still stubbornly refuse to put down your pride. I'm not leaving!"

She walked over to Lena's hidden break room and poured the scotch down the sink.

"But I-"

"No. Listen, you dumbass. You've been through some horrible, messed-up shit. Your brother almost destroyed the world multiple times. Your mother was a narcissistic fucking psychopath. I cannot even begin to understand how you feel most of the time. Having every move scrutinized by the world, feeling like you can't trust anyone."

"I trust you."

Sam paused. "I-What?"

"I trust you, Sam. You may be the only person who I can be myself around right now. And-And I know that isn't fair to you, me having constant breakdowns. I keep you from your life and Ruby and I hate it-"

"Lena!" Sam takes her hand. "You can always tell me about it. Everything. And I won't lie, helping you through your trauma isn't easy, especially since you refuse to meet a therapist. But that doesn't mean you can keep everything to yourself. It means that your pain, it matters to me. It is a piece of you that you have shared with me, and it isn't going to fucking evaporate the second I know about it. You matter. Your trauma matters. To me, and to everyone at the DEO. I want to help you." She inhaled deeply.

"And I can't promise that everything is going to be fine, I don't even know if we'll exist an hour from now, but I can tell you this. You don't deserve all this pain. That doesn't mean you don't have it. You are not responsible for what your family did, and you are not responsible for your mother's death. You don't deserve to die alone and at odds with everyone you love."

"Sam, but I-"

"And I'm sorry, I know Kara and the others messed up. But they love you. They are your family now. And I can't watch you punish yourself over this. Lena, it's time to let go."

Tears lined Lena's eyes. "I can't do it, Sam!"

"You can."

"I can't! I trusted Kara with everything. I shared every piece of me with her. Love and family were supposed to cure me! I made myself completely powerless, I was vulnerable, and she threw it back at my face. I cannot make that mistake again!"

"It's not fucking magic, Lena! Love isn't a cure-all. It doesn't mean everything bad that ever happened disappears! It only means that you aren't alone in your fight. Family and friendship, it takes work! You have to see them, and they have to see you. And Kara and the others, they love you!"

"If they fucking love me so much, why do they keep hurting me? Why am I the only one who gets lied to?!"

"It not that fucking simple! Everyone there has their own stuff. We're fucking terrified all the time. And now everything we ever feared is happening, and we can't even fucking be together!"

"What, now you're on their side?!" Lena heard the words spill out her head as messily as she felt, drenched in bitterness and insecurity. "Should've known that you would turn on me too."

Regret fills her immediately, but Lena drops Sam's hand like a searing pan.

Fuck.

"How can you think that?" Sam's voice was quiet now. Her eyes, Lena realized, were also filled with tears.

This is it. This is the moment I chase away the last person who's ever cared for me. One last screw over that will be wiped after the comet hits. One more mistake in my endless list.

Sam raised her arms. Lena reflexively leaned back, her heart hammering against her chest. Shit. She knew how this goes. She's seen enough fights between Lillian and Lionel end. She could hear the resonating crack from almost two decades ago. Lionel might have loved Lena, but he wasn't all that kind to Lillian.

You deserve this. You failed. You failed to protect yourself, failed to protect the universe. You are never going to be enough. You failed both your families, you failed yourself.

Warmth burst around her. Sam wrapped her arms around Lena.

What in the world... why was Sam hugging her?

Shit, this feels nice.

"Sam?"

"There are no sides, Lena. That's the whole point. You are a part of this family, and we will fight like hell to keep it that way." Sam stroked her hair. "We aren't perfect, we are flawed, we hurt each other. But we aren't alone. We love fiercely, and we have each other's back. We take care of our own. And you are one of us. We love you. We are here if you accept us."

Lena sniffled against Sam's shirt. A fierce rush of gratitude rushed through her. Sam has always been her rock, her constant for almost six years now. She's had her back so many times. Her best friend.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Sam." Lena sobbed. "Shit, it's too late. I can't fix everything. I messed up. I messed the whole thing up-"

"Hey. There's still time." Sam drew back and swiped at her eyes. "You can still call Alex. We have... seven minutes left."

Lena nodded, biting her lip.

"Thank you, Sam."

She shakily dialed her phone.

"Alex?"

***

"Hi! Aunt Lena!" A little bundle of joy crawled into Lena's lap and gave her a hug.

Ruby. She always meant a lot to Lena. Maybe because Lena never really had an aunt while she grew up. Maybe because her hugs were made of pure love; because Ruby is the most wonderful little human Lena ever met. Maybe because there was no tension, no tears involved. Ruby felt like hugging Lena, so she did.

It was the first time Lena cracked a smile in over a year.

"Hello, little monkey. Did you eavesdrop our whole fight?" She mussed her hair.

"Hey! I'm fourteen now. Not so little anymore." She carefully flattened her hair down. "And I know what swear words are, Auntie."

"Do you, now?"

"Yes!" She huffed. "Mom said she's making Mac and Cheese. She said your fridge was full of atrocious rabbit fodder and she hid about seventy percent of your kale." Ruby's voice dropped low and she whispered conspiratorially. "It's behind the eggs, don't tell her said that. Not that we'd be needing it anymore." She glanced sadly at the red skies.

"Are you okay, little monkey?"

"Aunt Lena, is there really no way to destroy the comet?" Ruby asked her.

Lena's heart broke. At that moment, she would've given anything to be back in her lab three weeks ago when they first found the comet. To have found a way out of this catastrophe.

She smiled sadly at Ruby. "I'm sorry, monkey. There's nothing we can do."

How do you tell a child that you failed her, that the entire world was gonna burn? That they were all going to die?

"It's okay, Aunt Lena. I love you." She kissed Lena on the cheek.

The elevator bell dinged and Lena could hear the doors open with a hiss. Her's mouth got just a little dry.

"I'm going to go help mom with the cheese. You should talk to them."

"Wait, Ruby-" she was gone. Great.

Lena exhaled shakily and got to her feet.

Here goes. Oh god. Why did I do this? This is a bad idea, shit. Shit, shit, shit. They still hate me why did I call them, they- Alex.

It was Alex. Suddenly, it wasn't the monsters that she was facing. It was Alex and Kelly and Nia and Brainy. Her family.

Alex stumbled forward first. "Lena, I-" She interrupted herself by crashing into Lena-"I'm so fucking sorry. I should've told you when the whole thing with Reign happened, but then Kara told me that she had to work things out between you and Supergirl, and then I lost my memories for a while-" Lena realized with a jerk that Alex was sobbing against her shoulder.

"-I feel like such an awful friend." Alex's voice cracked.

"Ale-Alex! Hey, it's okay." And for the first time, Lena really meant it. "I'm sorry too. I just felt-"

"Betrayed. I know. I'm sorry." She repeated, stepping away from Lena. She gave Lena a small smile. Smaller, but much like the one she gave Lena the first time they met in Kara's apartment. Tired, but it gives off so much warmth that Lena could feel it. It reminded Lena of all the times they spent together. All the days when they made small explosions in her lab and teamed up for game night. When Alex took her to self-defense classes and showed her fancy tricks with her guns. She was Lena's best friend. She is.

"Brainy, Nia." God, it felt good to- Lena couldn't even describe it. She missed this. Her friendship with Brainy was one of the few things she treasured most in the world. He was the only one who could ever match her intellect, her best lab partner. Her friend. And to the lonely twelve-year-old genius from the Luthor family, that was everything. And Nia was one of the bravest people Lena knew, unafraid to be herself and face the world. Fighting every day for the greater good. And she was more than that, she was the one who taught Lena that she didn't have to hide who she was. Lena will be a Luthor her entire life. She just had to embrace it. Or as Nia had framed, quite eloquently; 'own it.'

Kelly, and her crazy therapy skills. Lena regretted not spending more time with her. She was such a wonderful person. Kelly was the silent rock of their group, Lena could see that now. She was always there and she knew exactly what to say. In Lena's eyes, she was magical. So determined in supporting her friends through everything. The sweetest, most bad-ass person out of them all.

Shit, Lena was crying now.

"No more little boxes, Lena." Brainy whispered in her ear, and she giggled. Even Lena was surprised by that.

He was right. No more boxes. She has three minutes left to live and she wasn't going to crush herself with the weight of her stupid boxes.

There was still one more person-

"Kara. I'm sorry Lena, she- couldn't make it." Alex squeezed her shoulder. "Barry's Earth- they don't have a Kara. She can live there and not disintegrate. I told her to go with him. I'm sorry, Lena."

Lena's lungs filled with lead.

"Yes, of course." Lena's voice sounded far away even to herself. "She deserves to live there, in peace. I'm sorry, excuse me."

Something akin to panic swelled over her. Anxiety? Sorrow? Feelings were not Lena's strong suit. Panic attacks, unfortunately, she's already dealt with. She backed away from the room, almost knocking Sam over in the process. "Uh- Bathroom."

The door slammed behind her, and Lena splashed her face with cold water.

She would never get to apologize, she would never even get to see Kara again. Her best friend. Her soulmate. And now, she would die without Kara knowing- knowing that-

Because Lena only ever hated herself. She could never,ever hate Kara.

She curled into a ball on the floor, trying to physically hold herself together so she didn't fall apart. She couldn't fall apart, not right now. Her heart was racing and her breathing was short and distressed.

"Lena? Open the door." Alex's voice, carried in through the door.

"I-I'll be right out!" Even Lena knew they won't buy it. She could hear her voice crack with emotion.

"Lena? You don't have to go through this alone, I just told you that." Her voice was soft, and Lena chose to listen.

"I know it's hard. I know you miss her, and I can't imagine what it must feel after everything that happened between you and Kara. It was difficult for me too. I'm leaving her alone, just like everyone else in her life. I'm leaving her and her world is ending again, and we can't do anything about it. I hate it. I broke my promise. She doesn't deserve this pain, and you don't either."

The door creaked open. Suddenly it was Alex surprised by the hug.

"Alex, I'm so sorry."

"Lena." Alex wrapped her arms around the small brunette. "Trust me, she knows. She knows that you love her."

Lena sniffed and pulled back.

"That's just it, Alex." Lena's voice grew softer. "She doesn't know that I'm in love with her."

"You're in love with me?" A small, hopeful voice echoed from the back of the room.

The blonde superhero stepped forward with the sunny smile Lena loved. "Sorry I'm late but, I bought emergency Potstickers." She waved a bag at the rest of them.

"Kara-" The word was out of her mouth before she realized it, but then it was Lena in Kara's arms and nothing else mattered. She buried her head in the Kryptonian's shoulders.

"Hey." Kara tucked a strand of hair behind Lena's mismatched eyes, and Lena fucking melted. "You know, I've been doing some research." Her voice was low and breathy.

"Oh yeah?" Lena's eyes shined as bright as the red skies outside. Kara thought she could see the whole galaxy in her them.

"I think I finally know what Quantum Entanglement means." She rested her forehead against Lena's and smiled softly.

Lena's heart was racing. She reached up and caught Kara's lips in hers.

"I love you too, Lena."

***

"System error. Terminal order simulation failed."

Lena gasped and fell to her knees.

"Redirect operations to internal systems." She gasped, tears streaming down her face.

Just a few more, a few more minutes. Please. I need to hold her. I need to be held by her.

"Simulation failed."

"No! No, no, no. Please. Try again." Lena fumbled with her screen.

"Simulation failed."

"TRY AGAIN, GODDAMMIT." Lena cried, her voice full of raw emotion.

"Simulation failed. Shutting down. Thirty seconds left in final countdown."

"NO! I SAID FUCKING TRY AGAIN!"

"Twenty-five seconds."

The air was getting hotter. She could already see the streaks of green and red raining down from above outside Kara's window.

"Nooo." She sobbed. "Please, I need to see them. I need to hold her. Please." She crumpled on the floor, holding Kara's green hoodie in her hand. The last piece of her Lena had. The worst part is, Kara wasn't dead. Just lost forever, to Lena.

"Ten seconds."

"Please."

"Five seconds."

"I don't want to be alone." She whispered.

Here's my twitter, go yell at me. https://twitter.com/Keroessa24

#supergirl #supercorp #lena luthor #karlena #kara danvers #sam arias #alex danvers #reigncorp #agentcorp #angst with a sad ending #world ending #apocalypse #lena luthor needs a hug #major character death #post s5 #depression #suicidal thoughts

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phinksimp · 4 years ago

Note

Jealous phinks headcanon please!

Oooooo I love jealous Phinks! Hope you enjoy my little drabble!

You sighed as you walked to the restaurant with your best friend and her boyfriend.

"Y/N, are you sure you don't want to wait for Phinks?"

You shook your head. "I'm pretty sure he won't be coming."

Small arguments were a common occurrence between you two. There was often a lot on Phinks' plate, and he tended to take his frustration out on you. While he wasn't one to get physical with you; he often disregarded your feelings and would say things he didn't truly mean.

To you, it was just "Phinks being Phinks", most of the time. But the last argument over spending too much time at your job had crossed the line for both of you.

"Why do you need to work anyways?! If you ever need anything, all you have to do is tell me and I'll get it for you!" Phinks went to grab your hand, but you quickly slapped it away.

"By 'get it for me', you mean steal it, right?!" You pushed past him to grab your purse. "I don't know what the hell you're doing most of the time...but from now on; I don't want anything from you if it's stolen." You glared at him before walking out the door. "I can't blame you though. What kind of real job could you get with your qualifications? All you're good for is hurting people."

You replayed the argument in your head over and over as you made your way to the restaurant. Part of you knew you had to apologize eventually, but part of you knew you may have gone too far.

"Y/N!"

You turned to see the son of your boss waving as he walked towards you and your friends. He had recently moved from another country to learn under his father, as he would be the one to take over in a few years.

His blue eyes contrasted against his dark black hair and fair skin. His black suit with a slightly unbuttoned white dress shirt showed off his figure. There were several people in the office who had developed a crush on him.

"Oh, hi Charles! Grabbing dinner?"

You hit your friend discreetly on the leg as soon as you felt her nudge you. She whispered out the side of her mouth;

"Woah Y/N, who is this guy?!"

Charles smiled once he caught up to your group. "Yeah, I don't really know this area yet though. Do you have any places you can recommend?"

Your friend chimed in before you could speak.

"We're actually heading to a really good izakaya right now. You're more than welcome to join us!"

You screamed internally, praying he'd say no.

"Why I'd love to!"

You shot your friend a glare as she replied with a wink. She never really took a liking to Phinks, saying she could tell he was "no good" despite anything you would tell her. Of course she would take this opportunity.

You looked back as Charles walked beside you, hoping Phinks would show up.

---

Phinks groaned as he stood outside the restaurant, his hands in the pockets of his tracksuit.

Why the hell am I here? Is this even the right place?

He was still upset over your last argument, but he hated to drag things longer than they needed to be.

He shot up slightly when he saw your friend and her boyfriend step out of the restaurant for a smoke.

Phinks went to approach them, but something told him to keep his distance. He hid behind a wall, listening intently.

"Wow Y/N's new boss is a real catch! Handsome, rich and super nice...unlike no brows." Your friend laughed as she took a puff of her cigarette. "I think he likes her too. I hope she wakes up. It's not like Phinks is the type to get married, and it's what she's dreamt of since we were kids! 3 years and not even a hint of anything happening. I don't know how she tolerates him!"

Phinks clenched his fists as his blood went cold. He pondered for a minute; debating whether or not he should bother looking.

He took a deep breath before glancing through the window.

There you were, and there he was; his arm casually draped along the back of the bench seat behind you.

Phinks had half a mind to kill him right there and then.

He peeked at the window once again, his heart dropping when he watched you laugh.

It had been a while since he had seen you smile like that..

He grit his teeth, thinking about what to do. His jealousy was beginning to grow, and he knew he would go off in a blind rage if he let it get to him..

His body instinctively began to wind his right arm, but he stopped immediately. Instead turning back home to your apartment.

Phinks remembered you mentioning your new boss in passing, but never took much notice to it.

The man was successful, handsome, well mannered and well dressed.

Everything he was not.

All you're good for his hurting people.

Phinks looked up at the sky, your words repeating in his head.

You're right, Y/N. That's all I'm really good for...

-------

You did your make up in the bathroom as you checked your cellphone for the time. Charles would be picking you up for a corporate meeting in 20 minutes.

It had been 3 months since your argument.

3 months since you last saw or heard from Phinks.

It drove you mad that there was no way for you to contact him. He had left his cellphone at the apartment and you didn't know anyone he worked with.

You hoped he had just been called away for a job suddenly.

But you figured that what you said was unforgivable. You knew that despite his tough and cold demeanor; Phinks was a sensitive soul.

Maybe he wasn't coming back this time.

You wanted to apologize for what you said. It wasn't true. There was so much good to him that even he failed to see at times.

You quickly packed your purse as you made your way outside, not wanting to make your boss wait.

Your heart dropped as soon as you walked out the doors of your building.

There he was.

He wore a grey suit with a white dress shirt.

You panicked when you saw his arm in a sling, and his black eye.

Your body shook as you approached him, mixed feelings of guilt, relief and worry overwhelmed you.

"Phinks..."

He adjusted a duffle bag along his shoulder as he shot you a soft smile.

"Where are you going, Y/N?"

The question took you by surprise. "I'm going to work. My boss, well the son of the boss is picking me up."

Phinks felt his blood begin to boil. The images of you laughing with Charles in the restaurant making his jaw clench. "Like hell he is!"

Phinks made his way over to you, wrapping his uninjured arm around your waist as he pulled you into a kiss. He had missed you over the past few months, his motivation being the goal of never wanting to see you with Charles or any other man again.

He finally pulled away, allowing you to catch your breath.

"Quit your job, Y/N."

You pulled away completely in a knee jerk reaction to his words. "No way! What's wrong with you?! I don't even know where you've been! I still have bills--"

"I've got enough money for us."

He placed the duffel bag in front of you.

Your heart sank, expecting to find wads of cash.

What did he do this time?!

Instead, Phinks pulled out an envelope with a book.

You took it hesitantly, your eyes widening as you read the pages. Several deposit entries filling each page. "What the... you were--"

Phinks nodded his head. "Yupp. Heaven's Arena." He laughed. "None of that money was stolen. So you can save your breath." He made his way over to you, flipping to the first page of the bank book as he held your left hand. "The account is under your name, just in case anything happens to me. I'm sure there's more than enough in there." He placed his hand on your face. "You were right-- hurting people is all I'm good for."

"Phinks..."

The blonde haired man smirked. "Would your new boss give you all this?!"

Just as he said that, Charles pulled up in his car. He got out immediately as soon as he saw Phinks. "Y/N! Is everything alright here?!"

Phinks stepped in front of you, his uninjured hand now in a fist. "Who the hell are you?" Phinks lied, knowing exactly who this man was.

Charles cleared his throat. "Well, my name is Charles and Y/N is one of my associates."

Phinks huffed. "Never heard of you." He went to wrap his arm around your waist. "And besides, Y/N doesn't work for you anymore."

Before you could say anything, Phinks pulled you in closer. "Sorry for the inconvenience, pal. If you'll excuse us; we've got a wedding to plan."

You gasped as Phinks turned you towards the apartment, holding your left hand as the large diamond on your finger shimmered in the sunlight. "I'll make sure to send you an invite, Chuck."

"Phinks, when... what..." your mind was in shambles as you tried to process everything that was happening.

Is this his way of proposing? Are we engaged?!

Phinks spanked you, snapping you out of your trance. "You know, I'm still not over what you said. You're going to have to make it up to me, like a good little wife."

The tone of Phinks' voice made your temperature rise, as you knew exactly what he meant.

Charles stood there dumb founded as he watched the two of you walk off.

"Wow, that's one hell of a man if I ever did see one."

#phinks #phinks magcub #hxh #phinks magkav #phantom troupe #hunter x hunter #phinks x reader #softphinks

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bigyeshsamurai · 4 years ago

Text

An Avid Foodie’s Guide To Night City

/ / Incoming Transmission / /

< / PART 2: A Hungry South Indian’s Guide to Night City>

Good day to you beautiful folks in Night City! if you are like me; a disgruntled, hungry, often sad foodie who came to Night City with the hopes of making it Big then this article is for you! That’s right! because you can never hope to conquer the streets of night city on an empty stomach ( assuming you do have one..) . and I'm not talking about Kibble or those nasty Prepacks from All Foods or Synth food that makes you stomach CHURN ( God! I hate the Eezy Beef! ). I'm talking bout fresh food folks (that ought to get your attention!) , what most people may not know is that Fresh food ain't just the luxury of the Elite or the filthy rich. You common sheep too can get to savor the flavors of fresh food in the Streets and beyond that is if you know where to look and only if you have the right connections. ( You guys can thank me later! ). So here is a full day of my eating escapades in Night City.

A brief note on Indian food. Indian Cuisine has a multitude of flavors but Indians really do like spicy food and most dishes here have a spicy undertone. But there is no dearth of sweet food here. Indian cuisine is a melting pot of varied cultures and that just makes it worthy to be in the market stalls of Night City as well; Spicy, Feisty, sometimes sweet but it always makes you want to have more!

1. 8:00 AM < // Wake The F**k Up Samurai! // >

Wake up early and head downtown. There is a very successful little store by the name of Ambrosia. Head over there for the best Kibble you'll ever have in your life time. Now you may thinking “What Kibble? That bland, grainy, dry stuff ? ” Well yes. You see, my friend Laila who runs Ambrosia has cracked the code for making Kibble taste great. The secret? Just add delectable Indian Spice Mix to them but the rest of the process though is pretty much as closed lipped as Arasaka Tower. But who cares? If you want the most nutritious, soft, aromatic and tastiest breakfast yet, give it a go. Truly it is a feast worthy for gods.

2. 11:00 AM < // Time For some snacks // >

Well it’s Almost Mid-day and I already feel hungry so I head to Pacifica. I have a good frenemy named Josh there that sells these amazing one of a kind banana chips form South India. The perfect combination of crusty texture, crispy feels, yellowish glow and the glory that is fried food. The Indomitable Fried banana chips. These are available for a very hefty price in the American markets but because you know me and Josh you may get it at a discount. It also comes in a nifty protective package for eating on the go. Just don’t take Jobs from Josh. There is a reason why we are frenemies.

3. 2: 00 PM (Nearby Pacifica) < / A drink for every occasion / >

A Merc in Night City can’t function on an empty stomach or low energy levels. Luckily for us, my brothas from the Animals have a solution for that. They have got a great cocktail of muscle building boosters, fresh strawberries, Lime, bananas and vodka, perfect for keeping those gains on the road or while fighting the bad guys. Where do they get these strawberries and Bananas from? Well lets just say they are not just pumped up freaks and they do know a bit about greenhouses too. It is possible to be barely natty in Night City too. I present thee the drink dubbed “ Strawberry Pump Haze 3XT ”.

5. 6: 00 PM < // Some more snacks by the Pier // >

In the bustling markets of the piers you will find a small, and very shanty looking store by the name of Singh’s Chow. At first glace it may not be much but in actuality it is a very successful smuggling front for premium Indian Spices. If you are an immigrant Indian like me this is the go to place if you want to bathe in the nosh-talgia of home. [ This was pretty difficult to find but I have my sources ] . Although be warned, they do not take kindly to strangers meddling in their business so it will be good to establish a rapport with them or have an Indian friend recommend you as a customer. It is home to the only place where you’ll find an Indian take on a dumpling or pierogi. It is a sweet dish made with wheat with fillings of coconut, brown sugar and a whole lot of goodness.

4. 9:00 PM < // To The Afterlife Choombas! // >

Now after a long day of eating, evading the Police, Gangsters and doing Merc jobs it is best to head to the Afterlife to wind down (Albeit with a gun in hand though). For The Men among Boys do yourself a favor and get the Club Exclusive Johnny Silverhand. Waft in its glory, Get High and Get Moving for we always have some barbeque, steaks and Parottas to burn.

5. 11:00 PM < // Somewhere in the Badlands // >

Now because it is the weekend and I have got nothing better to do, I head out to the badlands. A few months ago I had to Win a death race in my pursuit of exploring the tastes of Night City or its Peripheries. Fast forward a month I am now thick friends with a tight knit nomad group that mainly consists of immigrants from India (Name classified). The Fourth Corporate War was not kind to their livelihood and they were forced to settle in the Badlands taking up illegal smuggling from India to the United States and vice-versa. Now these guys are the real deal. they can get access to a lot of Livestock. Don't know how they get it though. Today I was invited to a weekly community barbeques and I offered my services to cook them a proper Indian dish; The Chicken Biriyani . they just had to get the ingredients. Trust me when I say “ Trust the Nomads” cos they can get any ingredient you want! So here I was preparing the dish in the open flame. Basking under the Night Sky with a few friends I had made along the way. A perfect ending to a perfect day.

< // Tune in Next Time for news on the best chows and drinks in Night City. Next up is a special mystery edition //>

Until then this is Avid Foodie chippin' out !

P.S :

These dishes are traditionally found in many South Indian homes, and as South Indians can be found almost anywhere around the world (This is a standing joke among us). I thought that maybe Night City too would have its own share of South Indian people. Now the Dishes in their traditional names are given below:

1. The grainy looking stuff: Its famously known as the Poha

2. Banana Chips are famously known as Malabar chips.

3. The Rice with Chicken : Biriyani (This tends to have a lot of variants from place to place)

4. The bite sized dumpling: Unniyappam

I genuinely think that dishes have proved their mettle to be in the market stalls of Night City.

#CyberTumblr #Cyberpunk2077 #foodof2077 #Foodie #Southindia #Food #community creations #Photography #Foodguide

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writtingfiction · 3 years ago

Note

Claude and a fake dating au please

Please enjoy this mondern version of them cast with the fake dating au! School starts in three days, lets see how many stories I can write before then, enjoy!!

pairing: Byleth x Claude

words: 1.7 k

Now when Claude had received the invitation to the corporate annual party he wasn’t expecting much, just the usual black and white suit and talk about how things are going well within the company. Maybe brag a little about how they got the upper hand in sales for the first quarter of the year. Nonetheless, as cunning as he was, he wasn’t expecting to show up at the party with his former boss from back when he was an intern with the Seiros Inc. Not only did he show up with his former boss, but he’s also said to everyone, within his company and rivalling companies that the two of them are together.

So, imagine everyone’s surprise when the two enter the room all eyes on them. Byleth has half a mind to pat his arm gently in a way to comfort him. Claude wants to crawl into his own skin the way Edelgard and Dimitri look at him. Never mind how Seteth absolute seethes as he sends daggers towards him ready to rip him apart the second, he’s left alone. He thinks the only person to not be surprised by this was his own assistant. Although, he didn’t have the heart to tell him that this wasn’t exactly real.

When the pair had separated his close friends swarmed him. There were a lot of comments and many, many questions. He needed a drink. Hilda was incessantly poking his side, demanding for answers as Lorenz was lecturing him about something, he’s not paying attention.

“If you keep asking me all at the same time, I can’t answer you.” Claude said annoyed. Just barely making it to the table to grab a drink. The small crowd goes silent before they all speak up again. He shoots them a look before he hears one voice clearly through all the voices.

“Ok, ok, ok, I just need to know how.” It was Lysithea. Claude looks her in eye and then towards the rest of his friends. He’s now very glad that the two of them talked about this beforehand and came up with a story. Claude clears his throat.

“Well,” He starts off, trying to give off a vibe of mysteriousness and he is doing it well. “It started after Byleth got back from her overseas trip— “

“That that was 8 months ago!!” Hilda let out a whispered cry. Claude sends her a glare.

“Yes—As I was saying, after the overseas trip she had. We got back into touch as she was looking for a new job. I told her she could apply at Leicester Alliance and things went on from there.” Claude said, sipping his sweet drink. Rapheal lands a rough hand on his shoulder congratulating him.

“I have half a mind to scold you Claude, getting together with a former colleague like that? Do you even know what this could do to the company?” Lorenz started off with his lecture and Claude tried his hardest not to eye roll.

“Hence why we kept hidden for so long. We also hid it well mind you.” Claude said. Pointing a finger to no one in particular. Lysithea shakes her head.

“You haven’t answered my question.” Lysithea was a very smart girl for her age. Even though he constantly teases her for it, he couldn’t help but curse at how she knew he avoided the question. He had hoped his friends would carry the conversation away when they knew the least amount.

“What was your question, again?”

“How. How did you manage to convince Byleth to get with you?” Claude hums. His way of buffering so he can recall what him and Byleth discussed.

“I charmed her. Impeccable planning if I might say so myself.” Claude says. Grin as wide as possible to show off how cocky he was. He could see the very visible eye roll from Hilda.

“Totally Claude, now will you stop and just tell us?” Hilda whines out.

“Tell you what?” It’s a new voice. Everyone turns to see Byleth standing at the edge of their little circle. She’s dressed in smooth black dress that hugs her figure comfortably. There’s some gold jewelry on her wrists and neck. A matching pendent with Claude with his own necklace. Byleth’s outfit compliments Claude’s nicely, a couple picked straight from a magazine.

“Byleth! They were asking about how I managed to get you under my arm.” Claude said. Approaching her, smoothly wrapping an arm around her waist.

“If I remember correctly, it was you who was caught like a deer in headlights when I had asked you out for dinner.” Byleth said. Voice flat with a hint of teasing to it. The cat-like smirks that appeared on half of his friends faces had almost made him loose his composure. It didn’t help either that what Byleth said was true. When things first started out, Byleth suggested a dinner to chat about things and it honestly caught him off guard.

“Well, now they don’t need to know that.” Claude let out a nervous chuckle. He thought he had everything under control but this woman had him rethinking all his plans in under a second. She was just as or more cunning than him. A rare smile appeared on her face.

“No need to hide what happened. Have you told them about how you almost fell down the stairs earlier?” Byleth teased as Claude went red, choking on his words.

Claude trying to save himself and barely in doing so. Byleth was ready to crumble the reputation he had as cool lover and was trying too. Not with fake information either, he didn’t know if it was worse. However, while trying to keep it together he was catching things. People were relaxing around him for once. His close friends and coworkers were smiling and sharing stories from their lives. His rivals weren’t so tense around him, Seteth stopped glaring at him throughout the night. The old man was more focused on his sister than him tonight.

Byleth was making everyone around him more comfortable by telling them a side that only she would see. Claude shook his head with a small smile on his lips. Perhaps she was more cunning than he was.

The rest of the evening goes on without a hitch and he’s very happy with himself. Byleth noticed the change in demeanor. She wouldn’t let him off the hook so easily. However, she’s stopped in her tracks by two familiar faces. Edelgard and Dimitri approach her before they leave for the night.

“Byleth, if I may,” Dimitri speaks up, long blonde hair tied back nicely. There’s a small braid on the side of his hair leading to the bun. “Would it still be too late to offer you a position within the Faerghus Knights?” There’s an eye roll from Edelgard.

“What he means to say, even though you’re with Claude would you be open to a new and better position? Preferably with the Adrestian Corp.” Edelgard said. Byleth can only smile, a small part of her is glad they haven’t given up the friendly rivalry she only hopes it doesn’t end in an ugly way.

“I’m sorry, my loyalty goes to Claude. Not just because he’s my boyfriend.” Byleth felt something twist at her heart. It felt strange to call him that openly. She had spent the last month or two coming to terms with the deal that the two of them made. The two leaders of their respective company's sigh.

“We’ll get you one day, Professor.” Dimitri said a large smile on his face. Byleth only shook her head at the old nickname. Yes, she was their boss and taught them how to do their jobs to the best of their abilities but she didn’t deserve that title. She bids them fair well and goes to rejoin Claude. She knew the man was getting weary with how the others questioned him relentlessly about company issues now that pleasantries were over.

She grabs both of their coats before she reenters the room. A clear sign that they were leaving for the night and no one would stop them for a chat. It was one thing she was grateful for; they knew when people wanted to leave and would let them. It takes Byleth a moment to find him even with everyone who has left. When she does spot him, he’s surround by those greedy slimy men who would do anything to get ahead. Unfortunately, Claude is the only huge target left. Edelgard and Dimitri left, Seteth and Rhea left two hours into the party. First to arrive and first to leave, mused Byleth.

Byleth appears at Claude’s side in a matter of moments. One hand resting on his back, a comforting gesture. There’s a stretched smile on Claude’s face and cruel grins on the faces surrounding him. Byleth is quick in saying hi as she places Claude’s coat in his arms, cementing the fact that they were leaving and no one would be stopping them. Only one or two men tried to keep Claude longer but Byleth was quick to interject. Coats on and pulling him away from the crowd by the hand. When the doors of the building were closed behind them, they let out a breath.

There’s a shared look between the two of them, before they let out a small laugh. Byleth is the first to move from their spot at the door. Hand reaching in to her coat pocket and taking the keys out, waving them in the air.

“Ready to head home?” Byleth said.

“Couldn’t speak sweeter words for my ears to hear.” Claude said.

The drive home was nice, the music was just loud enough to drown out overwhelming thoughts. However, as Claude checks his phone looking at new emails a smirk appears on his lips.

“Good news, we have more shareholders because of our appearance tonight. I have a feeling there’ll be some more cameras following us around more than normal over the next couple weeks.” Claude said. “You ready for this?”

“I’m ready. The company will come out on top for the end of the year, just get ready for the speed bumps along your path.” Byleth replied. Claude let out a chuckle.

“We’ll defeat anything coming our way. I won’t let them win.” Claude said, knowing the year ahead of them will be difficult but he had Byleth by his side. What could go wrong?

#request #anon request #fake dating au #byleth eisner #claude von reigen #byleth x claude #khalid von riegan #fire emblem three houses #fire emblem #byleth eisner x claude von reigen #fluff #um maybe a part 2?

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ofallthethingsinlife · 4 years ago

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Lucifer Morningstar x Suicidal!Reader

Word count: 1391

WARNINGS: suicidal behavior, heights, happy(ish) ending though

If you are having suicidal thoughts or considering hurting yourself, please reach out to somebody or at least call a hotline. You are loved.

It was a long walk up to the top of the building. Twenty-three floors, to be exact. I decided against the elevator for several reasons; one, interacting with other people wasn't really my forte, especially at the moment. Two, I mean, come on.. who wants to be trapped in a little metal box? And three, on top of it all, they play that horrendous music that drives anybody who has to go up or down more then a few floors absolutely crazy.

Anyways, I made it up to the roof of the building (the home of one of LA's many all-powerful corporations, to be honest I don't remember its name anymore. That is, if I ever bothered to learn it in the first place.) And if there had been any doubt in my mind about what I was about to do it was far gone now, if only because there is no way in hell I was walking back down those twenty-three flights of stairs.

Hell. I wonder if I'll go there, when this was all over. I sure hope not, but I might deserve it. I've never been the religious or faithful type, but a recent string of events made it clear that the burning place was, in fact, real. I've always found it odd though, even before I knew lucifer, what a bad rep the devil has. I mean he punishes the nasty people who go to hell, which makes him good, right? He just ended up being the poor bloke who got assigned the job.

A loud honk from far below shocked me out of my thoughts. I'd been up here, leaning against the door I entered the empty roof of the building through, way longer than I thought.

"Shit, somebody might notice that I'm missing soon," I mumbled to myself after glancing at my watch, it was nearly seven-thirty. I internally cursed myself for losing track of time, though it was one of my bad habits, and I should have expected it. What I did not expect, though, was somebody replying to the words I spoke to myself.

"Too late darling, I already did. Playing hooky to watch the sunset, are we?"

I just about had a heart attack as I spun towards my previously unnoticed companion, who was leaning against the waist high ledge that ran along the edge of the building. I recognized him instantly.

The definition of tall, dark, and handsome, he was finely dressed in a well fitting suit that would have cost at least three months of my wages. The slightly flirtatious twinkle in his eyes was ever-present, but if I didn't know better I would almost say there is a hint of concern on his face. But this is Lucifer Morningstar we're talking about here, so that's absolutely ridiculous.

"For fuck's sake, you scared the shit out of me Luci!" I said, running a hand over my face and trying to calm my racing heart. I met Lucifer, the owner of one of LA's most fabulously sinful clubs, Lux, several years ago. An idiot at the club drugged my strawberry martini, but Lucifer caught him as he tried to sneak me out the back. We'd been friends ever since, and about six months after that first encounter I accidentally found out that the man was, indeed, the literal devil.

"If you must know, I just had a bit of a rough day and way taking some time for myself," I fibbed.

Lucifer gasped, looking at me incredulously, "You naughty thing! Did you just lie to me?"

I felt a blush creeping up my cheeks and tears pricked the corners of my eyes.

"I don't- I don't know what you're talking about," I sputtered as I walked to stand a few meters away from him, looking over the edge of the roof.

"Naughty, naughty, naughty!" Lucifer said, standing up from his perch, "You just did it again!"

"I did not!" I hissed, as my temper started to rise. I huffed and hopped up to sit on the meter wide ledge, crossing my arms in frustration. "Would you just mind your own business and leave!?" I snapped, my voice beginning to rise. The wind started to pick up, blowing my hair into my face. The sky had begun to darken with clouds a few minutes ago, and it looked as if it might rain.

"How about you come down from up there, darling?" Lucifer said, the concern now evident in his voice. "We can go back to the club. Talk. Or maybe moan. Something to get your spirits up," he continued, but his jokes didn't have their usual effect.

"What? Come down from here!?" I yell as I rise to my feet on top of the ledge.

"Darling, please-" Lucifer started, panic flashing across his face.

"What?" I snarled, "are you afraid I'm a little too close to the edge? Am I seeming a little unstable, luci?"

"Please, just come down from there pet," Lucifer hushed as he reached for me, his hands trembling slightly.

"No!" I yelled as a took a step away from him, an inch of my left heel now over nothing but twenty-three stories of polluted LA air. "I.. I just want this all to be over now. I need it to be over. I'm just so tired." I sighed, suddenly unable to find the energy to prevent tears from streaming down my face. As if on cue, the sky began to spit, coating the lenses of my glasses in tiny droplets.

"Darling, look at me." Lucifer demanded gently.

It took all of my energy to drag my eyes off of the broken concrete of the roof and up onto his face.

"Talk to me. What on earth could cause you to make this idiotic decision? Just tell me, and I'll fix whatever mess you're in. I promise."

"I can't, Lucifer," I cried hysterically, "I just can't! You can't fix it! Nobody can fix it! It's just me, and there's nothing that you or anybody else can do!" My knees threatened to give out under me as a sobbed, causing me to sway in the increasingly temperamental wind.

"Well, if that turns out to be true you can always just pop on back up here, can't you?" Lucifer said, trying to reason with me, "what's the harm in living a little while longer, just in the odd case that things improve?"

I've never thought about it like that before. I mulled internally, it would indeed be a shame if things were about to start looking up but I just offed myself. I guess I could come back later. The sky began to open up, the wind whipping the rain across my face so forcefully it stung.

I was interrupted from my thoughts when, before I could react, lucifer took advantage of absent-mindedness and quickly took those last few steps until he was close enough to grab me by my shoulders.

"It's time to come down from there, darling," Lucifer sighed, his grip gentle but firm on my upper arms, "Come on down."

Before I knew it I was off the ledge, safe on the cold, wet concrete of the roof. Lucifer pulled me into his lap, rubbing soothing circles between my shoulder blades as I sobbed.

"You bloody idiot," he scolded gently, "you scared the hell out of me, and since I'm the devil that's really saying something."

I chuckled weakly at his joke, sniffling and wipping at my nose.

"I'm sorry for all this Lucifer," I said, exhausted and shivering from the rain and cold.

"Oh hush now. Nothing to be sorry for, well, besides ruining this fabulously expensive suit," Lucifer teased, pulling me tight against his chest. His hair was plastered across his forehead from the rain, and his expensive suit jacket was soaking wet. "I think it's about time to go home now though, darling, before we freeze out here."

Lucifer scooped me up gently into his arms, carrying my damp, tired form bridal style. Between the utter exhaustion plaguing my body and the comforting smell of Lucifer's now quite wet shirt, I don't think we even made it into the elevator before I conked out in him arms. Thank God too, because I don't think I could have stood listening to that stupid elevator music.

#lucifer #lucifer morningstar #reader insert #fanfic #fanfiction #tw suicice #lucifer x y/n

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alienisticxo · 3 years ago

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X Angel - Chapter Two

Elon Musk x Reader

{Authors Note} Thanks to some encouragement on AO3 I will be continuing this strange little story. So if you happen to come across it, I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: An uncomfortable instance.

Bright white camera bulbs flashed in every direction, the shrill ringing of screams filling my ears until I couldn’t hear myself think anymore. I was blinded by the light that flooded with every rapid click, snapping away at my every move as I exited the Cybertruck I’d been driven in. I was already fashionably late to a discreet -or maybe not so, now- meeting set up by the head representatives of my record label, Astra Records. My manager had decided to tip off the media, and my publicist decided to make it an event without it exactly being one.

It was a complex task, staring into those brazen flashes without so much as a flinch, but that was what was required of me. That was my job and life’s mission for as long as I held the position I did. The ‘drugged out’ smile I was known for never faltered as the flawless chrome of my body reflected every photographer's shining glamor shot right back into their lenses. Despite being surrounded by personnel, security and otherwise, people still clawed and clamored their way forward in an attempt to invade my space as I walked toward the large building before me.

“{Y/N}, over here!” one yelled.

“Give us a wink, will ya?” yelled another.

“I’d fucking die for you!” a shriek made itself heard over everyone else in the roaring crowd.

I just smiled and continued to trek, my {H/C} hair drifting around my face and behind me. I concentrated on my gait, my posture, the way my expression felt as I stepped past my adoring audience.

One misstep and it’s all over, of course.

Occasionally I thought about what a strange thing fame was. People would die or kill for you, just to see you or speak to you. We were all the same, deep down. No matter the wiring or blood that ran under our skin, or chrome. The only ones who seemed to place others on pedestals for no true reason other than a little talent that thousands of others had and would never get the chance to share, were other lifeforms. What really made someone want to know me more than another being who can do the same things, maybe even better? The only difference between myself and someone who possessed the same talents was that no one except the other party’s close circle of friends and family knew of their capabilities. We did it to ourselves, really. If only everyone were looked at the same way.

My security guards pushed against me then, catching me off guard in a crucial moment that could’ve been dangerous for me in more ways than one. They were blocking a rogue fan who’d been dying to ‘feel me.’

I tensed up in the absolute slightest manner as I followed Jett, my manager, into the tall metallic building that was made up of glass, but reflected the entire city skyline on its exterior, catching the neon glow, Saturn and the twinkling stars above with it. Privacy was a must, of course. Being able to see out but not being able to see in was imminent for any corporation’s design. The large double doors that disappeared with a glitch as we approached, reappeared behind us as we stepped further into the lobby of Astra Records. The noise of the rowdy crowd just beyond the front steps of the building sounded as though it was sucked back outside and muffled, like someone had put a lid over the heaps of people screaming my name.

“You’d think they wouldn’t need those old school cameras anymore,” I commented, the exasperation in my voice clear as I relaxed a bit more from escaping the masses, disappearing deeper into the lobby until the sound was no longer audible at all.

“{Y/N}, how else are they going to send the pictures back to Earth?” Jett asked me, a hint of condescension in his tone before pausing.

“People sure are different here aren’t they? They worship you celebrities like gods, worse than little fangirls back on Earth.”

I stared ahead, continuing my trek to the teleportation pad without entertaining his thoughts.

“Fuck, I’m in the wrong business,” he continued in slight disbelief to himself. “Maybe I’ll figure out how to go chrome and become a star instead of managing all you shitheads,” he joked snidely, a nasty grin on his metal-grilled teeth as he turned his head over his shoulder to look at me.

Jett had come to X from Earth after having no luck finding any clients to manage once the great exodus of the rich and famous began. Places like Los Angeles, New York City, London and Tokyo had already been cut throat with the industry players. Once everything fell out, no one trusted a soul to handle their affairs anymore.

It wasn’t hard to see that Jett wasn’t exactly a clean cut looking person to begin with, either.

It was my luck I’d be stuck with him at Astra, but I knew in all aspects I was just that— lucky. I didn’t complain. How could I?

However, as he put it, he hitched a ride on the next flight out and got to work right away with the record label. It was just that easy, and he was just that good.

Sure.

“It doesn’t work like that,” I finally responded in a flat tone to his statement, my eyes scanning the confines of the space as we stood a few feet from the pad. Jett pulled the oversized and black-reflective shades from his eyes then, turning his body to look at me. He lecherously stepped closer before running his -what I assumed to be- warm fingers down the side of my cold cheek slowly, his eyes raking up and down my frame. My jaw clenched unbeknownst to him, and I kept my gaze straight ahead.

“You are a sweet design, I’ll give them that… If it weren’t for security on your ass all the time…”

His eyes moved to the front doors in the near distance behind me as my security team approached us from their previous position handling the crowd, and with that, he let out an abrupt howl, snapping his fingers against the palm of his hand and turning back to lead me upstairs with a cocky gait.

It was moments like that that made my stomach churn. I had to deal with the disgusting remarks and actions, to take them like a champ without even indicating that I acknowledged them at all.

If I did, it was my life on the line.

I was just glad that was the extent of it from him. Even more grateful that that was the extent of it from anyone.

With a silent exhale, and no outward show of disapproval, I swiftly followed behind him onto the teleportation device, ignoring everything he’d said like it simply never happened. With one quick scan of our bodies, as fast as I blinked my {E/C} eyes, we were standing outside of the boardroom I’d only seen twice before. Once to meet the representatives, and the last time to sign myself away to them. As my security team entered next, I searched my surroundings again. The whole floor, who’s exterior wall overlooked another angle of Drax City and a beautiful moon above it, felt familiar as I caught sight of the usual decor. It was dark save for the neon buzzed along the walls, palm trees that were coated in a glittery powder that grew on the leaves as per a new gardening experiment sat in pots in corners next to chrome coated lounge couches and translucent coffee tables. A muted holographic television screen played Astra’s channel on it against a wall, and I saw myself there, giving the last corrupt public service announcement that the Planet X Space Association worked with the label for so long and so hard to have me release to the masses. PXSA was our form of government and space flight. An odd combination, but one nonetheless. I didn’t necessarily believe in the things they forced me to read aloud; fill the heads of the unwise and naive with. But the check was nice, and I was in no position to decline their wishes.

The large area was cast in purple, blue and pink light as nostalgic pinball machines blinked from a short distance away, offering a “glimpse into the past.” Another client, brand new, sat on a couch and played a video game through the latest virtual reality headset, the images they saw being cast across another holographic screen while they waited. It was all very pretty, really, very modern and yet fantastical as I had remembered it from before. But despite the ethereal atmosphere, I still felt uneasy.

I had no idea who I was meeting and what I was meeting them for this time. No one ever seemed to feel the need to tell me much of anything when it came to business affairs. I was told where to go, I showed up on schedule or a little late, and I did what I had to do as I learned what that was upon arrival. The rest was simply code and programming to the people who ran my life; there was no room for error, and I had to learn fast and according to the individual's expectations of me-- or better. I followed Jett down the long purple hued hallway just off of the lounge area, his sleazy demeanor seeping from his pores as he stalked his way to another pair of double doors and stopped as it scanned his body. He looked back over his shoulder at me once more with a smirk before turning and walking through them dramatically, announcing my presence as though I were some prized show pony come to a town where nothing ever happened.

“Ladies and gentlemen, the one, the only, Drax City’s own, {Y/F/N}... {Y/L/N}!”

That was my cue.

He stepped aside, his hands reaching out and over to exhibit my presence once I made my way through the doors behind him and stopped in my tracks, my heels still seeming to echo through the large room. Holding my head up high -chin slightly in the air like the small, but statuesque figure I was- was expected from me. And as I held my position, I immediately noticed eleven pairs of eyes sitting around an iridescent boardroom table that were set on nothing other than me as they quickly and quietly gasped and gawked.

“Her figure, the quality,” one drew out.

“I didn’t expect her to be so… so lifelike, in person,” said another.

“Oh yeah, she’s a real beauty,” said Jett, stepping around me then, his hand tightening around the metallic surface of my waist before raking through my hair as though I were a child’s doll. “X hasn’t seen a model like this… Ever. She’s the most famous pop star on our planet— They can’t get enough, eat her up like candy. That’s why she doesn’t come cheap, boys.”

He patted my side then, making me feel like a used car being sold by a greaseball salesman.

That caught my attention, though. My head turned just a hair, but I caught myself before anyone could realize my reaction. I ground my teeth, trying to compose myself through the abrupt shock I was facing. Quickly fixating my line of sight on a neon lamp in the shape of a star that burned in the corner, I desperately attempted to hold my composure. My ears seemed to have failed me however, my thoughts taking front and center as the men briefly discussed things amongst themselves.

Are they going to sell me? To who? Why?

“Oh, we know all about her on Earth. That’s why we want her. We can imagine she’s a planetary treasure here on X, but she’s interplanetary. Labels, execs, people, would just kill to get their hands on her,” one man said, looking at me with a fever in his eye. I guessed he might’ve been the catalyst for my… purchase. The word tasted bitter on my tongue even as a mere thought.

“They’d listen to anything she tells them to do.”

Jett smirked, lifting a shoulder and asserting dominance in his own way.

“She goes to the highest bidder,” he responded blatantly. “And none of this ‘cash’ bullshit. She’s obviously makin’ us a lotta crypto. No one else can afford her. That’s why she’s still with us here at Astra.”

I allowed myself to slowly absorb the situation, then. Astra was trying to deal me away to Earth, the very place I’d almost died trying to escape, all for monetary gain. It wasn’t unheard of, stars being sent to Earth and even back again, but I was X’s golden girl. Or maybe chrome…

They needed me. More than they thought, I now realized. They couldn’t replace me.

Or maybe I was the one mistaken, maybe they could.

As my eyes scanned the area, I also noticed the nature of the collective individuals that sat before me. All in black and gray pressed suits, all male. They’d come here solely to make a deal, an offer Astra couldn’t refuse, and they weren’t leaving without a signed contract, empty pockets, and my life. Fight or flight kicked in, hitting me like a brick, but I couldn’t react. Everything was in slow motion, and it was killing me from the inside out, not being able to protest. It wasn’t in my nature, but I had to play ball now, and well.

One of the suited men stood up from a chair that floated behind the iridescent glazed table, which I now noticed held the reflection of the cityscape that could be seen through the windowed exterior wall as well. He walked over to me with a drilling stare, his stride confident and assertive.

“And this is 100% cybernetic?” He asked Jett, as though I weren’t even in the room.

“Yes,” he spat incredulously.

“What model is she? From who?”

The man stood before me, eyeing me from top to bottom. I wanted to scream.

“That’s the thing,” Jett began again, moving to lean against the table. “We don’t know. She was left at our doors with a letter to the CEO, like some orphaned child. Said she had no recollection of anything other than her programming. We’re lucky her programming was to be a singer,” he finished with a snide grin.

The man snorted then. The tale was unbelievable, sure, but they had no choice but to believe it. There was simply no other excuse for me. A.I. was common, but I was as human as they were going to get, at least for the foreseeable future. That alone made me quite the commodity, something to be revered by other corporations, enterprises and record labels who needed a workhorse without the demands of humans. People saw themselves in me, they felt they could relate, or become just like me someday. This kept them eating out of the palm of whoever’s hand I spoke for and persuaded them to.

Still, the way my mind worked was not the same way as other A.I. beings. I had real demands in order to work, not lifting a finger otherwise, and I made sure they learned this once it was too late— once they couldn’t let me go anymore.

Unless you had enough crypto, apparently.

The older man examined what he could of my body with no regard for my own thoughts on the matter, looking everywhere for any indication of a branding or a code. His brow furrowed when he found none.

“Who are you?” he asked me then, seeming quite perplexed.

“{Y/N},” I smiled. “Drax City’s very own.”

“Where are you from?”

“Planet X, sir. Made and programmed. It’d be an honor to work with you and your people,” I lied. “This city gets kind of boring when you’ve done it all,” I finished exasperatedly.

“Very realistic,” he commented to Jett, his eyes still studying my face. “A.I. just keeps getting better and better. This is incredible. She’s so… human.”

“Did you think we were fuckin’ lying to you? I’m sure you’ve seen her all over TV, she might as well be a person. She thinks, she feels. Hell, I think I’ve seen her cry before,” he said, taking an apple that sat untouched and forever ripe from a bowl on the table. “And she doesn’t even rust.”

They conversed between each other then, deciding my fate with nothing more than cryptocurrency hanging between us. I wasn’t listening anymore, maybe it was a coping mechanism. I just couldn’t wrap my mind around the notion that they would just sell me away to Earth. Maybe I just didn’t want to think they would. They used me for everything they did, advertisements, sold out shows, records— even virtual reality experiences. They made crypto over crypto, dollars upon dollars, thanks to cutting government deals as long as I told everyone to listen. I showed up to every event, knew everyone who was anyone, and then a few more people. If they needed something, I’d do it. If I needed something, they’d do it. That’s just how this worked.

Until now.

I was snapped out of my thoughts when a man standing near the corner closest to the window that I hadn’t noticed before, finally spoke up.

The lights from the city beyond cast a glow over his features, mixing with the neon that lit up the room itself. I knew exactly who he was the moment my attention turned to him, not only by his face, but by his deep voice as well.

Attractive, tall, dark haired and with a presence that could command a room despite the quirkiness that he was often known for, it took everything in me to keep from going slackjawed and wide-eyed. His eccentricities were a staple of his personality, and enigmatic wasn't a word enough to describe him and the aura that surrounded him. Anyone would’ve recognized the man, no matter where they hailed from, and yet, his presence certainly caught me off guard. He was even better than the photos.

He was Elon Musk.

Elon was one of Earth’s most influential people, if not the most influential person. But on X, there was a mixed opinion of him that wasn’t exactly warranted. Though he had helped humans become an interplanetary species, among so many other things, as artificial intelligence became more prevalent, it began to turn on its creators. This caused quite a rift between the cyber world and the human world, lending more firepower behind the crime that had already begun to lace the streets due to the advancement that kept average people struggling to make ends meet and survive in the new world.

Elon was blamed for the downfall despite the warnings he’d cautioned the public with for years. It wasn’t until Neuralink was released to the public for use that humanity began to appreciate him again on a grander scale. He seemed to single handedly salvage humanity, curing medical issues that otherwise had no solution, allowing humans to live for much longer with far better quality of life. Of course, until Earth fell apart again.

Planet X, though, was built on technology; on futuristic ways of existing that he himself had paved the way for, thus causing its inhabitants to maintain far less respect for him. To Xians, futurism was par for the course. Elon wasn’t special there anymore. They ate advanced technology and cybernetics for breakfast, and spat it out into something better for lunch.

But to me, he was still a hero. Though we’d never so much as come close to each other, he had never let me down before. From electric vehicles to space travel, to underground tunnels and mock flamethrowers, his creative and profound mind was something I’d always admired from the moment I learned of his existence.

He had his share of blunders like much everyone else, but overall, I knew he was a decent man. No one had ever made it their life’s mission to help humanity on such a large scale with the capability he had, especially in some of the worst times of what we knew to be Earth’s existence. He valued helping humanity, and he was always honest about doing so. Elon Musk’s intelligence was beyond comprehension, in a way that made anyone want to sit down and pick his brain. And, well, he had a sense of humor on top of it all that made him feel more real than the idea of him even seemed.

I wasn’t sure what to think of him on a personal level, most people had good things to say, others horror stories. I never thought about it too much or imagined him to be any kind of way, not wanting to tarnish any of the admiration I already had for him. I never expected to meet the man himself despite my position in the galaxy. I was a star, but he was far beyond me. Deep down though, I just hoped he was kind, nice; even if they say to never meet your heroes, because they’re usually quite the opposite.

It took every ounce of control to remain the composed little package they all expected me to be in the moment.

“I’d like to see her on my own,” he stated, every head in the room turning to face him as he did so.

#elon musk #elon musk x reader #elon musk fanfiction #fanfiction #elon musk fanfic #spacex #cyberpunk #fanfic #darklydreaming #x angel #writers #slow burn #fanfic writer

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fallingstarnovel · 3 years ago

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Chapter Three

That Monday, when he got to the lecture hall, he glared at Aliya for the entire time. She was visibly avoiding his gaze, tugging down her hair so she wouldn't make eye contact with him.

After it ended, he quickly walked over to her, coughing loudly from behind his fist.

"So. Judas comes to face his crimes."

Aliya turned and gave him a pitying look. "I'm really sorry! I completely forgot I had a revision session in the morning and I had to prepare for it. I felt so guilty."

Evan glared at her for another second – before rolling his eyes with a smile. He was a benevolent kind of person when he wanted to be. "It's fine."

"You sounded like you had a good time," Aliya teased him. “Your texts were indecipherable.”

"Uh. I think I did." He pulled a face as he failed to remember literally anything about how he got home. "It’s all kind of a blur. There was this girl..."

Aliya's eyes went wide. "There was?"

"Ah, shut up, she just said a bunch of stuff at me and then... Hm. I don't remember much after that, but clearly nothing weird happened since I got home safe and fully dressed."

Aliya tutted. "This is why I don't drink. Sounds kind of scary."

Evan opened his mouth to say something like "you get used to it", but then he remembered that he was trying to be normal and closed his mouth again. "Yeah. Haha, a little. I'm not sure you would have enjoyed the party. It was loud and everyone was off their faces."

"Maybe. I'm glad you were okay, though. And you got home safe."

Evan smiled. By now, they were long outside the lecture hall and were walking through campus. Students were rushing from building to building, or walking in groups and chattering away together. So many people who were meant to be here. They all looked like they were right at home.

There was a flash of black in the corner of his vision. Evan turned his head automatically, only to see the black cat from a few days ago sprawled across a wall. It was staring at him with green eyes, unblinking and imperious.

"Oh, it's the university cat," he said to Aliya. "Look."

"Aww. I'm more of a dog person," she said bluntly.

The cat's eyes narrowed in disgust.

Evan was about to go over and pet it when he heard someone say his name over his shoulder. He looked behind him, only to see a boy with curly blond hair and an angelic smile. He was looking at the cat with a strangely intense gaz, before snapping back to smile at Evan.

"Ruth!" he said. "Hey!"

Ruth waved. "Hello again. You look like you've recovered from Friday night."

Wait. Wait a minute... Evan squinted at him, before feeling his face flush red. Was Ruth there as well?! He didn’t remember seeing him at all!! He laughed awkwardly. "I am. So sorry. I don't remember a lot. I was... very drunk."

Ruth nodded. "I was. I thought you might have difficulty remembering."

Aliya's eyebrows inched up her forehead, right into her hijab. Evan realised that he had been quite rude, and quickly introduced her. "This is my terrible friend from Astro. She invited me to the party and then left me to die."

"I'm Aliya," she said, elbowing him in the stomach subtly.

Ruth gave her a polite nod, before turning his attention back to Evan. "I hope you don't mind that I let myself into your house. You seemed very worried that I was going to harvest your organs."

"You were the one who took me home?!” Evan yelped, feeling the blood rush all the way to the tips of his ears. “Oh, haha, what? Haha, so weird," Evan said, feeling himself dying of mortification again. "Thank you so much. I don't mind at all. That was really nice of you. Usually I just stumble home by myself, you know? God, sorry, I must have been so annoying to handle."

Ruth shook his head, his hair tumbling around his ears. "You weren't annoying at all. You were very sweet, like a well behaved child."

Evan wanted the ground to swallow him whole. "Haha, that's good. Still, I'm so sorry. Thank you. Augh."

How was he so bad at this?

An idea occurred to him. He quickly started rummaging in his pockets. "Wait, wait, I think I owe you a coffee for saving my life twice now. I don't have a lecture for a while, so..."

Ruth looked at him in surprise. There was a yawning moment of silence in which Evan questioned everything that made him ask that question and wondered if it was too late to change his name and move to Mexico.

But then Ruth smiled. "I think I owe you one instead. You spilled yours last time."

"In that case, I'll pay for yours and you pay for mine, and we can call that even," Evan laughed, feeling relief flood through him.

There was a polite cough from behind him. "Well, I have a study group to get to, so," Aliya said, shooting Evan a knowing smile. "I'll let you two go have fun. See you, Evan."

Evan felt a little bit guilty at accidentally muscling Aliya out of the conversation. He waved her goodbye and turned back to Ruth, and all his guilt was forgotten. Ruth's smile was blinding. There were two little dimples in his cheeks. Wow, he didn’t know anyone in real life with dimples.

"Let's go," he said, inclining his head in the direction of the coffee shop, and off they went.

Evan watched Ruth over his coffee while trying to look like he was doing no such thing.

Ruth was fascinating. He had a very handsome face, with eyes that could have been carved into one of those old statues they kept in the museums of Rome. His movements were all graceful and deliberate, from the way he stirred his coffee to the way he unwrapped his blue scarf from around his neck.

He was also tall. Evan wasn't short – okay, he was kind of short – but Ruth made him feel like a god damn manlet.

"So," he said, because he felt the need to fill the silence with something, "what course are you on?"

"Actually, I'm a part time student."

"Eh, no way. I didn't know you could do an undergrad part time!"

Ruth smiled and shrugged. "I have a job on the side. It takes up a lot of my time. I suppose the university understood I had other commitments."

Evan blinked. "Wow. Must be an intense job."

"You have no idea," Ruth said, something steely glinting in his grey eyes. "But it's rewarding."

"Is it why you skip so many lectures?"

Ruth nodded. Evan couldn't hold back his curiosity.

"Then what is it?"

Supermodel? Secret agent? Government official? What was important enough that the university would let him mess around with the schedule like this?

Ruth just winked at him, and Evan immediately upgraded all his guesses. Eldest son of a mob boss. Heir to the CEO of a huge corporation. A superhero in disguise as a student.

"That's fine. I didn't want to know anyway," Evan lied. "I bet it's something boring like business management."

Ruth ran his finger along his cup, his eyes flickering down to the table. "In a way, I suppose you're not far off."

"So... why astrophysics?"

"No reason, really. I just felt something pulling me here. That's all."

Wow! Such a free spirit! This guy was definitely some kind of billionaire. Only a rich person could afford to come to university on a whim and then spend half his time doing something else instead. Evan, who thought coffee was a fancy treat, tried to contain his jealousy and failed.

They drank their drinks in companionable silence. Evan was full of questions, but he didn’t want it to seem like he was interrogating his new friend. He was just curious!

“Do you... go to a lot of student parties?”

Ruth shrugged. “Not generally.”

“Oh. Aside from last night, I guess. Um... actually, about last night... I was wondering about what exactly happened.”

Ruth went still. “Yes?”

“Was I... alright? When did I go home?”

“I found you upstairs in someone’s bedroom with a few people. It looked like you were playing some kind of game that involved kissing,” Ruth replied. “You seemed very uncomfortable with the situation. Did I misread that?”

A kissing game. What the hell. Evan hadn’t played one of those for years. He wondered who he was smooching when Ruth discovered him. So deeply, horrifically embarrassing.

“I have no idea,” Evan replied with a shrug. “I don’t really remember if I was comfortable or not.”

There was a faint frown colouring Ruth’s pleasant smile. “Then I’m glad I was there regardless. There should be no room for doubt with things like this.”

“Hah, in an ideal world. In my experience, there’s always doubt. You just kind of have to move on afterwards.”

Ruth’s throat bobbed, but he didn’t say anything else. His coffee was steaming so much that it fogged up Evan’s glasses, and he took them off with a chuckle to clean them. “Wow, look at that,” he said, desperate to change the subject. “It’s that time of the year where I go blind every time I enter a warm room. You don’t wear contacts, right?”

Ruth, still speechless, shook his head. Oh, this was awkward. Evan got the horrible feeling that he had messed up somewhere.

“So lucky. Well, hah, look at the time. I should start heading to my next lecture.”

He didn’t have a next lecture. That was a lie. But he really didn’t want to hurt the poor guy’s feelings. He started gathering his stuff slowly, trying not to look like he was rushing out of there. Ruth let out a deep breath, before reaching across to lightly touch Evan’s wrist. His skin was very hot from where it had been holding his coffee cup.

“The next time you go to a party,” he said quietly, “take me with you.”

“Sorry?” Evan said, certain that he misheard.

“Take me too. I, ah.. I’m actually quite nervous around people. And I find it difficult to go alone. It would be... nice to have a friend to go with.”

“Oh, dude, me too,” Evan said, giving him a reassuring smile. “I have mad social anxiety. I actually don’t get invited to a lot of things like that anymore, but if I do, I guess I’ll text you and see if you’re free?”

Ruth nodded, his hand slipping off Evan’s wrist.

“Thanks.”

“It’s no worries. We can be anxious buds together.”

With a slow incline of his head, Ruth signalled that he would like that, and Evan felt some of his nervousness settle somehow. It was a surprisingly soothing gesture.

“Well. See you at the next one.”

“See you then.”

And then Evan rushed off to hide in the library for a couple of hours so Ruth wouldn’t see him walking around campus when he was supposed to be in a fake lecture instead.

Evan was getting out of the shower when he noticed something black flash in the corner of his vision. He whirled around, rubbing shampoo out of his eyes, visions of getting murdered by some opportunistic shower murderer running through his brain.

However, when he looked around, there was nothing there. He swore he saw something, though. Something in the reflection of the bathroom tiles near his back.

When he was done, he stopped by the mirror in the hallway and checked his body just in case the black thing had been a huge house spider or something. It wouldn’t be the first time that he had a spider fall on him in the shower. Usually they washed down the sinkhole, leaving Evan shivering and feeling strangely violated, but what if this one managed to cling onto his naked skin?

There was no spider. Instead, sprawling across Evan’s lower back like a trampstamp was a sprawling, intricate black tattoo, formed from archaic lettering and symbolism that he couldn’t read.

“Hey, what the fuck,” he said into the empty house.

Having no housemates meant that he couldn’t run into anybody’s room and ask them to read whatever the hell it now said on his back. He tried rubbing at it, but nothing happened. It didn’t even feel weird or raised. It just felt like skin, and it didn’t budge.

Not even soap or nail polish remover got it off his back. It was like ink had sunk into his skin and stuck there overnight.

Evan was, understandably, more than a little freaked out.

> HEY UHHH SO > sent: image_5473843.jpg > ???

wow, that’s a really interesting tattoo!! when did you get it? <

> well you see that’s the thing aliya. i didn’t. > i do not know where this tattoo came from. ummm > i am freaking out a little!!

wh??! < you mean it just....??? appeared?? <

> yeah?? i literally do not remember getting any tattoo there??! ever?

you do have a lot of tattoos... are you sure you didn’t forget about one of them? <

> you don’t just forget about a tattoo!! > okay actually. sometimes you do. BUT NOT THIS BIG. THIS IS A TRAMP STAMP > I WOULD NEVER GET A TRAMP STAMP > oh god what if this happened while i was drunk at that party

ok calm down do you want me to come over and look at it? <

> no, it’s fine. i’ll just. ???? hhhhhhhhh > wait, there is something you can do! can you get me the numbers of uhh. fuck what was their name uhhh Tree. Branch > ROCK > and there was this girl who dressed like a goth, they were both at the party, can you ask your netball friends if they have their numbers? they might know what happened?? i guess? help?

i’ll ask around babe x sorry about this maybe go to the police? <

> they’ll just say i was drunk and there was nothing they could do. but thank you anyway i really appreciate this. sorry for bothering you

no need to apologise at all xx hoping you’re okay xx message me whenever you like <

Evan examined the tattoo in the mirror again. Now that the shock had worn off... well. Aliya was right. He already had so many tattoos. Most of them were already stupid ones he got on a whim. So even if he didn’t ask for this one... it was okay, right? It wasn’t so bad.

It was even kind of cool, in an old-school, mall goth kind of way. Spidery webbing and dots of red ink in what he thought might have been flowers of some kind. He tried to take a photo with his phone, but his hands kept shaking, so he just kept getting blurry pictures of his ass. Not ideal, honestly.

With a sigh, he stretched out on his bed and examined his older tattoos. His favourite one was still the navy outline of a falling star stretching down his inner arm towards his hand. It was his first proper one that he got done at a real tattoo parlour. A lot of the earlier ones were... well, the less said about how close he got to a skin infection, the better.

With a sigh, he tugged on a long sleeved shirt from his closet. Until he could work out why he suddenly had that black monstrosity on the back of his hips, he wasn’t sure he wanted to accidentally keep catching glimpses of it in every reflective surface.

Wait a minute. There was someone else there at the party. Someone who might have seen something that could help.

He opened up the messages from the unknown number and prayed that it was who he hoped it was.

> heyyy ruth i hope this is you!! haha hi

The reply came back about half an hour later, which was just long enough for Evan to overthink everything that had ever happened to him.

It’s me. Rest assured. :) <

Oh god. How to word this?

> well i’m doing good actually i’m you know. chilling! > actually there was something i wanted to ask you > please excuse the ass in this photo!!!!!

The what. <

> sent: image_5473843.jpg

Who did this. <

> funny question! i don’t know > i was hoping you could help???

I’m coming over. <

> no, i meant like do you remember seeing anyone at the party with a tattoo gun or a stick and poke or something?? you don’t have to come over sorry i don’t want to be a bother

You’re not a bother. I’m coming over. <

Well. Fuck. Evan panicked and threw on a pair of sweats and a hoodie, and then felt stupid, because presumably Ruth was going to come and look at the tattoo. Maybe he should wear nicer clothes? Did he have time to tidy his room?

> are you sure haha i don’t want to inconvenience you!!!

I was in the area anyway. It’s okay if you don’t want me to come over. But I have an idea about what happened. < Sorry. I know this must be alarming. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable. <

Evan thought about it. Well. It was the only lead he had.

> sure why not come on over

I’m outside. <

The doorbell rang.

***

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kpop---scenarios · 4 years ago

Text

Temptations

Commissioned by: @blueblondewonhoishot

Warning: Smut, Angst

Word Count: 11.2k

Everyone wants to fall in love, but sometimes love isn't enough to keep you together, and sometimes someone tries to break you apart.

As the youngest child in your family, you were always the last one to find out anything, especially if it had anything to do with the family business that your grandfather worked so hard to build.

Being the youngest of 3 had its perks, but honestly there were more disadvantages than anything, considering you were the only girl as you had two older brothers. It was clear since you could remember your father and grandfather groomed your brothers to become the perfect workers, and perfect people to take over the company when they passed. No one ever considered you, because with you being a girl, you were supposed to just get married and have children while being a stay at home mom.

You weren't here for that life. It had taken you a while of begging for your father to even consider allowing you to work an entry level position in the company at the age of 20, but you were strong willed and determined to prove you had just as much potential and capability to run the company as good, if not better than your brothers.

When you turned 25, you were made a financial advisor, and you'd finally earned a slight nod of approval from your father. It was the most acknowledgment at work you had gotten from him that wasn't really work related. Today was the best birthday you had, and now nothing was going to get in your way now.

"Lee Hoseok, graduated top of your class at SNU, majoring in Finance." Mr. Park murmurs.

"Yes sir." Hoseok nods, holding his head up high. He needed this job, Christ did he need this job. His bills were piling up, his grandmother's hospital bills. She had told him not to worry and that she was handling it while he was in school but now it was just found out she hadn't been handling it. Hoseok's parents weren't around any longer, having taken off when he was younger, so he had no one. His grandma was all that he had, and he would do whatever he needed to do to take care of her.

"We'll give you a shot. Come back tomorrow, 8am, 6th floor. Ask for Kim Y/N, She'll take care of you." Mr Park says, abruptly leaving Hoseok sitting there, his nerves finally melting away.

The next day, you excitedly entered the large building of Jangu. Co. You grew up but for the first time it was your first day now as a financial advisor. No more slumming it on the 3rd floor with the Analyst's for you, no, you were now hitting the big leagues on the 6th floor and you couldn't be more excited.

"Good morning Y/N." The 6th floor secretary, and one of your best friends, Minsu smiles.

"Ah, yes it is." You reply with a giant smile of your own.

"Wait." She calls after you. Minsu grabs your wrist, pulling you around the corner before leaning in closely to you. "You're showing someone around today." She whispers, peaking around to make sure no one hears her.

"What?" You ask, not quite understanding why anyone would choose you, considering this was your first day as well.

"I don't know specifics, but just that you have to show him around until the advisors meeting at 10am." She finishes shrugging her shoulders before whispering bye as the phones begin to ring.

You shake off Minsu's words as you walk towards your new office.

"Oh Y/N!" You hear Minsu again from down the hall. Christ, you just want to make it to your office. Turning around you place a fake smile over your face until you notice she's not alone. Trailing along closely behind her, an extremely well built, handsome man in a tight fitted suit.

Uncontrollably, you let out a small breathy moan as you attempt to subtly look him up and down.

"Jesus christ." You whisper to yourself, adjusting your slightly unbuttoned top.

"This is Park Y/N." Minsu says, bowing to the man before winking at you and taking off.

"Hello, I'm Lee Hoseok. I was told to find you this morning. " he says. His arms made your pussy throb, and now his voice makes it throb and drip.

You clear your throat, trying to not make a fool out of yourself. "Yes, that is right. Please head to my office and I will be there in a few minutes." You say in your most professional voice.

You sounded like an idiot.

"Where's your office?" He asks.

Fuck. You didn't even know where it was.

"Um." You pause. "I'll show you." You tell him, turning down the hall, praying that this was the right way. You look closely at each door, trying to find your name while this man follows you, likely thinking you're a giant fucking idiot.

"Ms. Kim?" He questions.

"Yes?" You ask, turning around.

"Isn't this your office? Kim Y/N?" He asks, pointing to a door half way down the hall from where you currently stood.

"Oh uh yes, good eye." You say, walking back to him. "It was, uh, test." You murmur opening the door, sneaking by him to see Mr. Park, while trying not to be too embarrassed.

What was wrong with you? You've never been affected by a man like that before, and suddenly you become a giant mess? Get it together.

Hoseok couldn't help but laugh at how flustered you got. Honestly, he thought you were adorable, the way you furrowed your eyebrows, the way your cheeks became red when you were flustered and embarrassed. He enjoyed noticing these types of things about women, more specifically women he found attractive. And did he ever find you attractive. He knew he couldn't never act on anything, he needed this job more than anything and he wasn't about to lose it because of anything. He needed to stay focused and do what he was there to do.

Hoseok wanders into your office, wondering where you snuck off too and when you were coming back. He wanted to get straight to work but wasn't entirely sure where he was supposed to go, so he awkwardly sat in one of your chairs, and waited for your return.

"Mr. Park." You say, walking to his desk. Mr. Park was your father's very trusted secretary, and puppet. He did the dirty work your father didn't want to do, sometimes he wanted to keep his hands clean but Park had zero issues carrying out your father's orders. Honestly he terrified you a bit, but you refused to show it.

"Ms. Kim. What can I do for you?" He asks, his expression lifeless and cold, as usual.

"The new guy? What am I supposed to do with him?" You ask, crossing your arms. "This is not how I expected to spend my first day as a financial advisor."

"Ah yes, Mr. Lee. There's a staff meeting in 10 minutes, please bring him there and I will direct him from there." Mr. Park tells you, looking down to continue his work.

As you head back to your office, you think about what it would be like to have an office romance. You wondered if he would want to keep it a secret or declare his feelings for you in front of everyone?

No, stop it. You can't get involved with anyone, you're working your way up the corporate ladder, you can't date anyone, let alone a coworker.

"You." You say, standing at the door of your office. "Let's go." You finish turning to walk back down the hall. Hoseok quickly stands up, following behind you, but not too close.

You enter the board room with Hoseok trailing behind you. Picking a seat, he decides to pick the one directly beside you. Your face heats up again.

"Let's get this done quickly people, there's work to do." Mr. Park says, placing his papers on the table. "We have a new hire, Lee Hoseok." He says, gesturing towards him. "Everyone take care of him. He is our newest financial advisor, who will be working with Ms. Kim for the next few weeks as she shows him the ropes and how to handle the clients." He announces.

Your eyes almost pop out of your head. Are you working with him for the next few weeks? Closely? You wouldn't. You couldn't, you actually physically couldn't because you might do something you'd regret. Your attraction to him was very real, and the fact that you might do something was a very real possibility. Usually when you wanted something, you got it and as much as you tried to deny it, you wanted him. You knew you needed to keep your distance, as much as you could.

"That concludes the meeting, have a productive day." Mr. Park says before abruptly leaving the room.

"Well, shall we partner?" Hoseok smiles. You just about melt.

"Y-Yes." You mumble, standing up quickly to walk out of the room.

"Let's head to my office, you can show me how to set up my things." He smiles, moving to walk in front of you.

Unfortunately for you, his office happens to be just a few doors down from yours, and you have a perfect view of his desk, you can see your desk from his.

"Okay, so this is the client list. You can take this half, I'll keep this half." You say, deleting your half so he's not confused. "Your email is here, your phone number here, clients info is in this folder here." You say, showing him everything on his computer.

"And this.." you begin before being interrupted by Hoseok's phone loudly ringing. He quickly declines the call, placing it back in his pocket before he pays attention again. He leans over you in the chair, pointing to something on the screen. Though as he leans, his hard chest lands on your shoulder, sending a shock through your body and slight wetness to your panties.

He was about to say something to you, when his phone began ringing again. Once again, he declined the call but almost immediately it rang again.

"You should probably get that if it's going to keep ringing." You say, standing up from his desk.

"I apologize, Ms. Kim." He says, before answering the phone.

"Hello?" He whispers as you walk out of the room, back to your office.

"Ms. Kim!" You hear a voice before your very best friend saunters into your office with a mischievous smirk on her face.

"How may I help you, Chae?" You ask with a small laugh.

"New hottie. What's his deal?" She asks, sitting on your desk. "He is a goddamn snack!" She yells loud enough for surely the entire floor to hear. "Give me all the info."

"I don't know anything. I'm a professional." You say, pulling your jacket down.

"Professional my ass." She snorts. "Speaking of asses, did you see his ass? It's like a double layer cake, that I would love to eat, lord." She groans, mimicking a biting motion.

You can't help but laugh because she was absolutely right. The ass on him made you slightly jealous, but also made you hot. He was definitely one hot piece of ass. Seconds later, there's a knock on your door frame, and there stands Hoseok. You and Chae's laughing comes to a quick stop as you stare at him, trying to figure out if he heard or not.

"Ladies." He smirks.

He definitely heard.

"Would you like to join me for lunch?" He asks, cocking his head to the side.

Fuck.

"I think we're.." you begin to say before Chae so rudely interrupts you.

"We would love to. Let's go!" She says, hopping off the desk and shakes his hand while being extra flirty.

"Okay.." you finish, muttering it to yourself. "Let's go I guess."

As the three of you sit at a table and wait for your food, Chae begins to ask Hoseok a list of questions. She starts off easy as usual and then she will begin the tougher, more intimate questions.

"Where were you born?" She asks.

"Busan." He answers.

"Nickname?"

"Wonho."

"Family?"

"Mom, dad, and two older sisters." He smiles.

"Interesting. Y/N has two older brothers." She says, nudging your arm.

"Girlfriend?" She asks.

Hoseok looks uncomfortable, but lucky for him, the food arrives, saving him from having to answer her question.

The table goes quiet as you all enjoy your food. Hoseok adjusts his legs under the table, accidentally brushing his knee against yours. Your head shoots up to look at him, only to already be met by his eyes, locked on your face. He smirks before winking at you and then continuing to eat his food.

You feel like your heart might actually beat out of your chest. Your face gets flushed again as the memory of what he just did plays over and over in your head, making you blush a little harder each time you think about it.

"Right, Y/N?" You hear Chae say, bringing you out of your daze.

"What?" You say, coming back to the real world.

"It's customary to take new hires out for celebratory drinks on the Friday of their first week." She winks at you. Clearly Hoseok had seen it, because he began to chuckle.

"Yes, yep, it's tradition." You shrug with a smile.

"Okay, I'm in." He laughs, taking another bite of his food.

You couldn't wait for Friday.

That night you went home and did whatever you could to try to erase the thought of Hoseok from your mind. You didn't need this kind of distraction, or temptation if you would. But no matter what you did, your brain wouldn't let him leave.

As you doze off to sleep, your brain decides what better way to get rid of him than to have a sex dream about him.

You're standing inside the supply closet, the door propped open behind you. You're looking for paper for your printer, when you feel a body pressed up against you, and something hard in your backside.

"You've been such a tease today." Wonho grunts, wrapping his arm around you, grabbing tightly to your shirt with both hands before ripping it open, buttons flying everywhere.

Your breath hitches as he cups your breasts, grinding his cock into your ass.

"Naughty girls need to be pushed." He spits, pulling your skirt over your ass before undoing his belt to pull down his pants.

"You ready baby?" He grunts, coating his cock in some spit, pumping himself before lining himself up with your entrance.

Your hands reach up, grabbing whatever shelf you could as Hoseok rams his cock into your pussy, not letting you adjust to his size. He continuously pulls himself out before pushing back in, stretching out your walks.

"Won't tease me again, will you?" He grunts.

"If this is my punishment, I definitely will." You breathe, as Hoseok's large hand wraps around your neck, squeezing tightly.

"I want you to cum all over my cock." He growls.

Beep

Unfortunately for you, the second before you came, you were woken up by the sound of your lovely alarm clock.

You never did finish that dream.

As the week went on, you found yourself staring across the hall at Hoseok, daydreaming about what it would be like to hear him moan. How big his cock was, if he was any good at eating pussy. More than once he caught you staring, and only smiled in response.

Everytime the two of you were in the same room, you swore you could cut the sexual tension with a knife. If you had it your way, you'd happily have him swipe everything off yours or his desk and fuck you senseless in the office, but unfortunately for you fucking your coworker during working hours was against company policy, you were sure.

When Friday finally rolled around, and you were all done work, you were sitting at a table with your coworkers surrounding you, while you each had a shot and a drink in front of you, as you all laughed at some lame joke someone made. You loved that you got along so well with everyone, but you were having a hard time concentrating while Hoseok sat beside you, especially since every time he moved, his leg brushed against yours. When he would adjust his pants, his finger would lightly graze along your bare thigh. You made sure to wear a short, yet work appropriate skirt that day.

Your breath hitches as the last graze lasted a few minutes longer than the others.

"I'll be back. Bathroom break." You breathed to everyone at the table, needing to get yourself together.

You stood with your hands on the sink as you took a few deep breaths, giving yourself a small pep talk in the bathroom mirror. "You've got this. He is your coworker, that's it. Nothing more, nothing less. Get ahold of yourself, Y/N." You growl to yourself.

Taking one more breath, you pull the door open, only to be met with a pair of strong hands on your shoulders, pushing you into the wall. You look up to see a dark eyes Hoseok, breathing heavily.

"What are you doing to me?" He pants in your ear, pressing his body against yours. "I can't control myself around you." He groans.

"Then don't." You whisper.

Hoseok leans in closer to you, his luscious lips almost pressed against yours.

"I can't." He breathes, smacking his hand against the wall beside you, frustrated. "I'm sorry." He finishes before walking away.

You stand against the wall for a few seconds, trying to figure out what just happened and why he left. You shake your head as you walk back to the table, noticing Hoseok wasn't there.

"Where'd he go?" You ask Chae.

"He took off. Something about having to be up early." She shrugs.

You wondered if maybe you had done something wrong? Maybe telling him to let go around you freaked him out? Maybe he had a girlfriend? All the possibilities ran through your head all weekend as you went over every detail, trying to figure out where it went wrong.

The weekend came and gone, as quickly as it began. You laid in your bed Sunday night, wondering what Monday was going to look like. Would it be awkward or uncomfortable? Would he ignore you? Maybe act like nothing happened, although would it really be acting considering nothing truly did happen.

You fell asleep that night worried about what the next day would bring.

All morning Hoseok's office door had been closed, and he never left, giving you zero chance of speaking with him. You could just go and knock on his door, but you didn't want to disturb him or make the situation worse, so you left it alone.

You didn't see him Tuesday either.

Wednesday afternoon, you were lucky enough to be awarded a lovely visit from Mr. Park.

"Ms. Kim, you're going to be heading the Jung case with Mr. Lee. Do a good job on this. You'll be presenting to Mr. Jung and the board on Friday." He says, leaving without giving you a chance to ask any questions, like did you have to work with Hoseok? You didn't do well in awkward situations.

Taking a deep breath, you stand up from your chair to make your way to Hoseok's office. You try to shake your nerves off while you stand right outside his door. You knock three times, gently, trying to not seem too eager.

"Oh." He says. "I wasn't expecting to see you." He admits.

"Yes well here I am." You laugh. "Mr. Park has put us on the Jung case." You tell him.

"I'm on that case? He's one of the biggest clients. The commission is huge?" He says, his eyes wide.

"I know. We have until Friday and then we have to present to the board." You tell him.

"That's barely 2 days." He says, worried.

"I know. So we better get started." You tell him.

Friday came quickly, and so did the slot for your presentation. Hoseok had assured you that the two of you did an outstanding job and everyone would love it. You just hoped he was right.

"..and that concludes our proposal for Mr. Jung." You say, finishing off the presentation that you and Hoseok had worked so hard to complete.

As it turns out, your hard work seemed to have paid off, because Mr. Jung was thoroughly impressed with what you and Hoseok had come up with for him regarding his finances and agreed to go with the plan.

"Celebrate?" You asked Hoseok. He happily nodded his head and the two of you set out to your favorite spot for dinner and a drink.

One drink happened to turn into two, and then three, and continued to where the two of you were currently on your fourth drink, having finished your dinner hours ago the two of you were already slightly drunk.

"I have a confession." He says. "I like you. I've liked you since I first saw you." He says, finishing his drink before putting his hand up for another one.

You smile as you down the rest of your drink, going to admit the same thing to him. "I like you too." You whisper.

"Then what are we doing? Two people who like each other should be together!" He slurs.

"I agree Hoseok." You giggle.

"Call me Wonho." He smirks. "Can I take you home with me tonight?" He asks.

"Please take me home." You say. He puts out his hand for you to grab. Happily you take it, after hell places some bills on the table to cover the evening.

You're both silent in the cab back to his apartment, not touching each other. Wonho slowly guides his hand over the seat, sliding it over your hand. He curls his fingers, holding your hand before pulling you towards him.

Wonho leans in, going to press his lips to yours, but before he can, the cab driver pulls to the side, telling you that you were now at your destination.

Nervously, you get out of the cab, standing on the sidewalk as you wait for Wonho to finish paying. Once he does, he grabs your hand, leading you inside and to the elevator. The doors open, and Wonho pulls you in, you two being the only ones riding the elevator up.

Wonho turns to face you, walking towards you, making you back up until you hit the wall. "I've wanted to do this for so long." He growls leaning his head in close to yours, finally allowing his plump lips to press against yours. Within seconds, he slips his tongue into your mouth, both of you eagerly needing each other. Wonho bends down slightly, placing his large hands behind your thighs, signaling you to jump. You happily comply as you wrap your legs around his waist, never breaking the kiss.

The elevator doors open, you're on his floor but he doesn't set you down. Instead, he carries you to his apartment, unlocking his door and heading inside with you still wrapped around him. He makes it to the kitchen before he places you on the counter, standing in between your legs.

Wonho stands back from you, appreciating you before beginning to unbutton your shirt. Wonho never breaks eye contact as he unbuttoned the last one, sliding your shirt over your shoulders and down your arms, leaving you in your bra. He slides his hands around your back, unhooking your bra before discarding it on the kitchen floor.

He smiles as he leans his head down, cupping your breast, lifting it up to gently place a nipple in his mouth, sucking harshly.

"God." You moan, throwing your head back.

You raise your hands, running your fingers through his soft hair. You slowly push him away from you, sliding yourself off the counter, allowing your tits to bounce slightly before you get onto your knees.

You lick your lips as you unbuckle Wonho's belt, and unbutton his pants, shimmying them down his legs, along with his boxers.

"Ooh." you squeal as his cock springs free, pre cum dripping from his red tip. You tilt your head up, looking him in the eye as you lick the cum from his cock before placing it in your mouth, sucking a few times before taking in as much as him as you can.

"Shit baby." he groans, throwing his head back.

Pulling him almost out of your mouth, Wonho thrusts his hips forward, shoving his cock down your throat, causing you to choke a little.

"Fuck." he moans, letting you swallow his cock a few more times before pulling himself from your warm mouth, and standing you up. He bends you flat over the counter before spreading your legs wide. He drags your skirt and your pants down, over your ass and down to the floor.

Wonho gently sticks his fingers inside your pussy, pumping them in and out before reaching up a little more to rub your clit.

"Oh my god." You cry out, your legs shaking as he hits the perfect spot, each time.

"I'm going to fuck you." He groans, pulling his hand away from your clit.

You stand up and turn around, placing your hands on his shoulders to bring him down to the floor. Wonho lays down on the kitchen floor as you step over him before bending down and lining his cock. You line yourself up with him, slowly sinking down on his cock as he spreads your pussy, stretching you out.

"Fuck." you both cry out. You slowly start rocking your hips back and forth, making sure to rub your clit on his pubic bone as you ride him.

With a smile on your face, you adjust yourself, placing your feet on the floor, you begin bouncing on his cock, making him moan louder.

"Holy shit." he cries out.

You lean yourself back, placing your hands on his legs as you continue to bounce yourself on his cock. He reaches his hand up, rubbing your clit with two fingers.

It doesn't take long for you to cum all over his cock, your eyes rolling back into your head.

Wonho groans at the sight of you, removing his hand from your clit and pinching your nipple instead.

Minutes later, Wonho cums, spilling it all inside of you. As you take yourself off of him, his cum seeps down your leg as he shows you to the bathroom. You both clean yourselves up quick before collapsing in his bed, falling asleep instantly.

The next morning you woke up, Wonho's muscular arm draped over your body. You bite your lip and smile at the memory of what happened between the two of you last night. Although you were both drunk, you remembered it all and it couldn't have been better.

"Good morning, beautiful." Wonho mumbles, his eyes still closed as he nuzzles his head into your neck.

"Good morning." You respond, rolling over and wrapping your arm around him.

"Breakfast?" He asks, his voice muffled.

"What would you like?" You ask.

"Let's make breakfast together." He suggests.

Your heart flutters.

"Okay. Let's do it." You smile.

That morning, you and Wonho spent your time together making a large breakfast, that the two of you could barely eat. Eggs, hashbrowns, bacon, toast, pancakes. It was a meal that could feed an army, but the two of you had so much fun making it together. There were plenty of kisses shared between the two of you, along with your favorite back hugs. You could feel yourself falling deeper and deeper in love with him with every second that you spent with him, and now you'd finally decided to stop fighting it and just let yourself be happy.

You and Wonho spent the entire day together. You watched movies, talked for hours, learning all about eachother. You even told him about your father and who he was. You had thought he would have been mad or uncomfortable with the thought of dating his boss's daughter, but to your surprise he was okay. You both agreed to leave your relationship out of the office, strictly professional.

"Relationship?" You giggled. "What, are we dating now?" You laughed. It was Sunday afternoon and the two of you had spent the entire weekend together.

"We are. That is if you would take me as your boyfriend?" Wonho smiles.

"Of course." You laugh.

He laughs as he cups your face, leaning down to gently place a kiss on your lips.

You couldn't believe he was yours, and this was your life.

You were in complete bliss, for a while until everything began crumbling before you.

The first few weeks of your relationship with Wonho was amazing, you kept it professional at work and passionate outside of work. Things were just working out perfectly for you both, until a rumor started going around the office about the two of you. There was only one person you knew who was into office gossip, and she just happened to be your best friend.

"Chae." You start, standing by her in the break room.

"Oh hey! Is it true?" She asks with a smile, wiggling her eyebrows.

"Did you start it?" You ask.

"Start what?" She says.

"The rumor."

In a split second she began looking uncomfortable. As much of a gossip as she was, she was a terrible liar and a dead giveaway.

"I'm sorry! I saw you guys out for dinner, and I told Minsu but told her not to tell anyone!" She exclaims. "But she did and then it just spread." She finishes, looking apologetic but at the moment you didn't care. No one needed to know about your personal life and you thought it was pretty shitty of her to say anything in the first place instead of coming to talk to you.

"I really am sorry.." she whispers.

"Yeah, so am I." You mumble, leaving the room and heading to Wonho's office.

"There's a rumor about us." You pout as you close his door.

"I know." He smiles.

"Everyone knows." You say.

"I know that too." He laughs, looking back at his work.

"What are we going to do?" You ask, slumping down in the chair.

"What do you mean? Who cares if everyone knows? I love you. I want the world to know that I'm with the most amazing, sexy, smartest, funniest woman, and she's all mine." He smirks. "I want all the guys to be jealous you're mine, and all the women jealous I'm yours baby."

Out of all of that, there were only 3 words that you heard.

"I love you."

"You love me?" You whisper. Wonho freezes and looks at you a little shocked. He really didn't think you would have caught that. Was it too early? You had only known each other for a few weeks but he had never felt like this about any woman before. He knew you were the one the moment he set his eyes on you, the one he was going to marry, the one he was going to have children with, the one he was going to grow old and grey with. Watching your children get married, have their own children. He could picture it all with you by his side.

"I do love you." He says confidently.

"I love you too." You whisper, smiling while you lean in for a kiss, squishing his cheeks together with your hands.

If this is what love felt like, you never wanted it to end.

"It seems as though Mr. Lee and Y/N are in a relationship, sir." Mr. Park tells your father, CEO Kim.

"Mhm. I see." Your father says, sitting behind his desk contemplating his next move. "Keep an eye on him. Report back to me asap." He finishes.

Mr. Park bows at your father before heading off to keep an eye on Hoseok. He knew your father wanted something on him, and whatever he wanted Mr. Park would do.

"I've got to get back to work. I'll see you later?" You ask, lingering by the door of Wonho's office.

"Yes. Let's go for dinner?" He asks.

"Absolutely." You smile, walking from his office back to your own.

Once Wonho was alone, he picks up his cell phone, dialing a number but first checking to make sure you were out of ear shot.

"Hi." He speaks into the phone. "Yeah of course I'll see you tonight. I've just got something to do first and then I'll be over there." He says. "Yes I know. I'll bring it don't worry. I love you too." He finishes, hanging up the phone. Wonho begins typing on his computer, not noticing the man who heard everything walking away from his office, and directly to the office of CEO Kim.

"It seems as though he might have someone else, sir." Mr. Park says. "I overheard him on the phone."

"Look into his background. Dig up whatever you can." CEO Kim tells him.

"Yes sir."

Over the next few days, Wonho becomes a little distant and closed off, not speaking to you much, constantly on his phone and distracted. Everytime you tried to speak with him, he either had to run off on an errand, had a meeting or had to take a call. You had barely seen him, and hadn't slept in his bed with him in a week.

You were confused. Had you done something to piss him off? Was he in some sort of trouble?

The next day, you'd finally caught a glimpse of him sitting in his office, typing. No phone call, no meeting, nothing. You walked over there determined for answers. You push the door closed before sitting down in the chair across from his desk.

"What's going on?" You ask bluntly. "You've been ignoring me and very secretive. Did I do something?" You ask.

"What?" He asks, confused. "No you haven't done anything. I've just been dealing with some stuff baby, but it's done now." He smiles.

"It is? Are you sure?" You ask to clarify.

"Absolutely. I love you, I would tell you if something was bothering me." He laughs. He turns away from you as his work phone rings loudly.

"Hello? Okay. Okay. Be right there." He says before hanging up. "Okay baby, I have a meeting. Dinner tonight? I'll meet you at Rizo's." He smiles, placing a kiss on your head before taking off.

You couldn't wait to spend some time with him tonight, hopefully either stay at his apartment or have him come over to yours, since it was the weekend. Either one would work, as long as you were with him.

5:30pm rolled around, and you left work in a happy mood and headed to the restaurant.

6:15pm, you sat at the restaurant, waiting for Wonho to arrive.

6:45pm, you call his phone only for him to not pick up.

7:30pm, you try calling one more time, only to be sent straight to voicemail.

8:00pm, you finally gave up waiting and went home.

You checked your phone constantly, but heard nothing from him that night.

Waking up in the morning, you check your notifications, yet none of them are from him. You can't help but have a terrible feeling in your stomach, like something happened. You try calling him again, and it went to voicemail.

You call him again, and this time he answers. He sounds tired and annoyed. "What?" He snaps.

"What are you doing? Are you okay? You didnt show up last night." You whisper.

"I'm fine. Look, stop calling, just leave me alone." He growls before hanging up the phone.

Frustrated and annoyed, you get up to get dressed quickly and make your way over to his apartment. What the hell happened to make him change his mind so fast? Why was he being so harsh to you? What have you done?

40 minutes later, you're standing outside his front door, your hand up ready to pound on the door.

Knock

Within seconds, the door swings open, revealing a long haired beauty.

"Can I help you?" She asks with a smile.

Oh god you think.

"W-Wonho?" you stutter. She was stunning. Was she his girlfriend? Fiancee? Friend?

"Hey!" She yelled behind her. "There's a girl here for you. She looks sad." She says, giving you a sympathetic smile, that you didn't notice.

"What are you doing here? He snaps.

"What is wrong? What happened?" You ask.

"Nothing happened. Christ, you're so fucking clingy. Leave me alone." He shouts.

The girl behind him muffled a laugh as he began snapping at you. Your eyes dart over to her, giving her a confused look as she smirks at you. You try to shake it off, remembering you're there to get answers from Wonho.

"Why didn't you show up yesterday? Something happened! You told me you loved me before making dinner plans with me!" You yell. You didn't understand how he could change his tune so drastically.

"I lied. I don't love you. Never did. I used you to further my career, but look at what that got me. Nothing, except a clingy bitch. Now leave me the fuck alone." He spits, going back inside and slamming the door in your face. The tears that had been previously threatening to fall, spilled down your cheeks.

Why.. how could he change his mind so quickly? He had spent the nights with you telling you his plans for the future, including you in all of them. He told you he loved you, you were the one, he didn't want to be without you.

And now he's telling you it was all a lie, that he used you.

Your heart felt like it shattered into a million pieces. You could barely see out the windshield as you drove back to your apartment. Your tears refused to let up, just as your heart refused to repair even a little bit.

Wonho slid down the door after he had slammed it in your face, his head in his hands as he let his own tears fall freely.

"Who was that?" Yoomi asks, crossing her arms.

"None of your concern." Wonho snaps. "Did you pay grandma's hospital bills with the money I gave you?"

"Yes I did. Where did you get 14 million Won anyways?" She asks.

"Again, none of your concern." He spits, walking to his bedroom and slamming the door behind him. He didn't have the energy for her today.

The weekend for you was nothing but a blur. After you had gotten home on Saturday morning, you cried and slept, and cried more and slept. You were pretty sure you didn't eat anything, drink anything, or even leave your bed. You were a disaster, a heartbroken mess of a woman and you had no idea how to get out of it.

Even though you wanted to lay in bed forever, and forget the world, you got up Monday morning and put on an outfit that said professional, but was the least professional outfit you owned. You gave no fucks today. You left your hair alone, not giving shit as you looked in the mirror. Your eyes were so red and puffy, absolutely noticeable you had been crying.

You did your best to cover up your eyes, but even makeup couldn't hide what a mess you were, so you said fuck it and decided to scare everyone today.

Sitting in your office, you glance at your clock and it's only 11am. You want to die. Everytime you heard footsteps going down the hall your stomach dropped in fear that it was Wonho, but you hadn't seen him yet.

Yet, and you spoke far too soon. You looked down for a brief second and looked out the door when you lifted your head, and there was Wonho, standing outside his door staring into your office. You thought you saw his face twist in pain slightly, but you could have been wrong since it went back to being ice cold in a split second.

You could feel the tears slipping again, and you refused to let him see you cry again. You quickly log off your computer and grab your phone and purse, not caring about anything else before walking out of your office, past Wonho and to the elevators. You needed to get the fuck out of there and grab a drink.

Thank god for the bar down the street.

Glancing at your phone, you're a little shocked to see it's already 7pm and you've been drinking for 7 hours. Unlocking your phone, you decide to message one person back, the one person you knew would be here within 10 minutes if you asked her too.

"Fucking Chae, telling Minsu about Wonho and I.. it's her fault. She's the reason he left me." You mumble to yourself.

"Bitch!" You hear from across the bar. "What the fuck happened?" Chae asks as she sits across the table from you.

"Bitch? You're the bitch." You spit. Chae's taken aback.

"What?" She asks, confused. "What did I do?"

"You and your loud fucking mouth had to tell Minsu about Wonho and I. You're the reason he fucking left me. Maybe if you sucked a few more cocks you wouldn't have time to gossip about me." You slur, flipping her off before standing up and staggering out of the bar.

Sober you knew that Chae and her big ass mouth had nothing to do with you and Wonho breaking up, you were sure there were much bigger issues than that but she was there and easy for you to take your aggression out on.

You knew you shouldn't have done it, even plastered you knew you were wrong but it all came out like word vomit that you would most definitely have to apologize for another day. You cried a little more as you staggered to your apartment, flopping on your bed.

You weren't going to work tomorrow.

Instead when you woke up, you ate all the junk food you could find in your house before ordering more, along with more alcohol.

This was how you spent your week. Binge eating junk food, drinking and crying while watching couples get together in your favorite Korean Dramas.

"Fuck you Hyungsik for getting your happily ever after." You bawled. "Where's mine!?" You cried, throwing your bag of cheeseballs at the TV.

To say you were a wreck, was a heavy understatement.

On Sunday you were feeling a little better and had decided you were going back to work on Monday, but as you were trying to decide what to wear, everything looked like it would be too small. Surely you hadn't gained that much. You stepped on your scale, and almost fainted. In your one week of being home and bringing, you had gained 15lbs. Usually, it's not the end of the world but you were nowhere near mentally strong enough to deal with that much of a weight gain in such a short time.

You ran to your phone, dialing the number of someone you knew could help you.

"Chang-wook? I'm hiring you, starting tomorrow morning. Jaggu. Co gym, 6am. See you then." You finish, hanging up the phone.

Ji Chang-Wook was an old friend of yours, one that you're not afraid to admit you found him wildly attractive but he was more like a brother to you than anything else. He had the body of a god and could easily help you get back into shape. You didn't want to be this girl, torn apart after a break up. You repeated the quote your mother always told you to live by. "If you love something, set it free. If it comes back to you, it's yours and if it doesn't, it never was."

If Wonho was meant to be yours, he would come back to you but you needed to give it time and show that you were doing okay while you waited.

Monday morning rolled around far too early for your liking. You cursed yourself for binge eating but more so cursed yourself for calling drill sergeant Changwook.

"You're late." He exclaims as you walk into the already busy gym.

"Bite me." You snap back. Your eyes scan your surroundings, and just your luck, Wonho is standing in front of the large mirror, pumping what you can only assume are the biggest weights in the building. "Shit." You whisper, turning around.

"Why are you attempting to hide?" ChangWook asks, looking you up and down.

"My ex is over there." You whisper, jerking your head in Wonho's direction. "The one pumping iron and the reason why I'm in this situation currently." You finish bitterly.

"Okay, well let's get working." He says, placing a loud and hard slap on your ass, causing you to yelp and Wonho to turn and look to see you laughing with ChangWook.

"Shithead." You murmur as he drags you over to the treadmill, making you run for 45 minutes straight, without a break.

When you're done he drags you over to weights, and other machines you wish you could name but honestly you weren't paying attention. Part of you just didn't care, but the other, larger part was too focused on what Wonho was doing, and the fact that the two of you continuously made secret, discreet and flirty eye contact. You were pretty sure, well you hoped it wasn't all in your head.

After spending all day in the gym, which turned out to only be an hour and a half, you said goodbye to the man who would be responsible for your death and went to collapse in the shower for a few.

When you finally felt like you'd survive, you got dressed for your day at work, hoping the rest of your day was a little easier than your morning.

And it was. You only saw Wonho four times throughout the day, and only cried three out of the four times, so you were making progress.

The next few days were hard, you had to work semi closely with the man you once saw a bright and beautiful future with, while he acts like he doesn't have a clue in the world as to who you were. That hurt the most, the pretending you two had nothing but you still wanted him. Despite all he said to you, or did to you, you still loved him.

"Ms. Kim, you'll be paired with Mr. Lee for this project. You all need to present tomorrow morning, and Mrs. Seo will choose her advisor after the meeting. Work hard." Mr. Park announces before taking off immediately after he ends the meeting.

"What the fuck." You whispered under your breath. You were annoyed you had to work with him, things were going very well with you and him by keeping your distance. You didn't want to have to actually speak to him or work with him, but you didn't have a choice now, did you?

"Should we go to my office or.." Wonho quietly asks, standing behind you.

"Mine." You snap, standing up quickly and stalking off.

Wonho silently shuffles behind you, keeping his distance from you but also keeping pace.

You sit down in your office chair as Wonho pulls one up to your desk, ready to work.

"So I think if we went with this approach, it would absolutely save her more money in the long run." Wonho suggests.

"Oh would it? Would it save her more money? Thanks so much for your input." You snap.

You knew you should be professional, you knew you were being a shithead but you couldn't help it. He was acting like he didn't tear your heart out and stop on it before chopping it into pieces with an axe.

"I'm sorry.. I was just.." he starts.

"No it's fine. I'm sorry. It's a great idea. Let's go with that." You say.

The next thing you know, it's 2am, and you and Wonho are still working, although almost done.

"End it like this?" He asks.

"Yeah, that's good." You say with a yawn. Standing up from your chair you stretch your body, bending over to stretch out your back while forgetting your skirt happened to be one of the shorter ones you owned, that just happened to slide up ever so slightly over your ass.

Wonho's breath hitched as he watched your skirt slide over the curve of your ass. "Shit." He murmured, feeling his cock twitch in his pants. Without thinking, he walks towards you, biting his lip as he gently presses his semi hard cock to your back side.

You stand straight up, shocked. You try to walk away but Wonho wraps his arm around your waist, keeping you against him. He places his head in the crook of your neck, taking in a deep whiff of your scent.

"Fuck, I miss you." He sniffles into your hair.

"Then why.. why did you.." you start before Wonho backs away from you.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have.. I can't." He mumbles, grabbing his briefcase and taking off.

You went home that night and cried yourself to sleep.

Wonho went home and cried in the shower, his cock still hard at the memory of being so close to, pressed up against your ass. He knew this would be hard, but he really didn't think it would be this hard.

"Mr. Lee, thank you for joining us." CEO Kim says as he sits across from him and Mr. Park.

"Of course, how may I help?" Wonho asks.

"Your grandma is fairly sick, isn't she?" CEO Kim asks.

Wonho is slightly taken aback, he wasn't aware anyone else besides family knew about his grandma.

"She is." He answers.

"Now, what's your relationship with my daughter?" CEO Kim asks, his face now becoming more stern.

"Oh, um, we are in a relationship." He announces. He wasn't sure if he should have said anything, but truthfully it was his boss and your father, he couldn't lie.

"I see." CEO Kim says, clearing his throat. "My Y/N is a sweet girl. Smart, kind, passionate and comes from a well off family. She needs to be with someone more like her, which is why I have her husband picked out already."

"You're marrying her off?" Wonho asks, shocked. "Does she know?"

"No she doesn't know. And she won't know until everything is ready. Her and Park Seojoon will be happy once they learn to love each other, but we have an obstacle. You." He says, pointing at Wonho. "She can't be with you. So you're going to end things with her."

"I-I can't do that." Wonho says, standing up.

"You can and you will. Do you enjoy living in the apartment you're in? Because one call from me, I can have you evicted with nowhere else to rent. I can fire you from this job and stop you from getting any other job in your field, you'll be slinging burgers for $5 and hour. I'll also tell her about your dirty little secrets" He threatens. "You're sweet grandma, you're very behind on her hospital bills. Agree to my terms, and your debt is covered, along with all payments every month to the hospital. Your job is safe and so is your housing. What do you say?"

"Fine." Wonho agrees, he has no choice.

"I don't care what you tell her, or how you tell her. End things permanently."

Without another word, Wonho walks out of his office, ignoring your calls to see where he was for dinner. Ignoring the fact that he should be at the restaurant with you, not planning to destroy you. What choice did he have?

"Hello?" You answer your phone in the morning, feeling like it was far too early to be getting a call.

"Y/N, come for breakfast this morning." Your mother says.

"Is it necessary?" You groan.

"Yes. Now please. And look presentable." She says. "Love you."

Click.

Great, a breakfast can only mean one thing. You're in for quite the surprise.

"Thank you for showing up in a timely manner." Your mother says, giving you a quick hug.

"What's this about mom?" You ask, your stomach nervous.

"Just eat, Y/N." You father says, keeping an eye on the door.

A few seconds later the door opens, revealing a very attractive man in a suit. He looked to be about your age, maybe a few years older.

"SeoJoon! Thanks for coming." Your father laughs, standing up to hug the man.

"Y/N, this is Park SeoJoon. He's the heir to Park Foods, and.." your father pauses, looking at your mother. "Your future husband." He finishes.

You choke, you choked on your melon as soon as your father said the word husband.

"I'm sorry, WHAT?" You partially yell. "Nice to meet you, but no?"

"Y/N.." your mother starts.

"Don't Y/N." your father growls. "Be kind to your future husband."

"I'm not? I'm.. sorry, but again no. Every Time you've brought this up I've told you I'm not marrying someone for financial gain, or for company mergers. I'm marrying for love." you say.

"You'll end up loving him eventually.." your mother sighs.

"I'm not in it for eventually. I want the reason that I marry someone to be because we love each other, not because we're forced." you sigh. "In fact, there's already someone I would love to marry." you finish with a whisper.

Your mother perks up at your announcement, while your father seems angry. "You better not be talking about that new hire!" he yells, slamming his fist on the table.

"I am actually." you spit back.

"That's over. I took care of that! it didn't take much for him to leave you! Some threats, and a few million dollars? He's weak! SeoJoon is the one for you!" He yells.

"You took care of that?" you ask, tears brimming in your eyes.

"Oh Hyunjo, you didn't.." your mother gasps.

"That's why he left me? Because you threatened him to the point he was terrified and took some money?" You laugh, but the humor is nowhere to be found. "I always knew you did some shady shit, but this is low, even for you." You cry. "I'm your daughter! And you treat me like my life means nothing. I can't believe you."

Without a second thought, and ignoring the pleas from your mother, you burst through the front doors of the house and went straight for your car. You have one destination in mind, and you hoped he was home when you got there.

Arriving at Wonho's apartment, you violently bang on his front door, yelling for him.

"What?" the woman who was there last time answers.

"Is he here?" you ask.

"I don't know. But what I do know is that you should leave now." She says.

"Wonho!" You yell again. "I know about the threats and the money from my father! Please, talk to me." you yell over her.

Seconds later Wonho comes into view, moving past the woman that had been there previously.

"You know?" He whispers.

"I do..and I'm so sorry. Why didn't you tell me!?" You cried. "I could have helped you!"

"I didn't know what to say. How do you tell someone you love their father threatened them and paid off a large amount of debt and hospital bills? That's not something that comes easy to say over dinner or drinks." He tells you.

"I get it. I just wish I could have prevented it." you cry. "I could have done something." you sigh.

Wonho doesn't say anything, but instead pulls you into him, tightly wrapping his arms around you, holding you close.

"I'm sorry for everything I said. I didn't mean it." he whispers, nuzzling his face into your head. "I have never, for one second stopped loving you. It broke me to say those things to you, to physically see your heart break. I'll never forgive myself for that." He finishes.

"It's not your fault. It's my nosy ass father, who by the way, tried to marry me off today." You scoff.

"Oh, so you met SeoJoon?" He asks.

You back away from him. "You knew?"

"Kinda? I guess? He told me there was someone he wanted for your husband, but we didn't dive in any deeper than that." Wonho replies.

"Same shit. Christ. He's psychotic." You grumble.

"Come on." Wonho laughs, grabbing your hand to drag you inside.

Immediately your body stiffened as you remembered the girl that's been here far too often for your liking.

"Soya!" Wonho shouts.

"What do you want?" She asks, coming face to face with you.

"This is my girlfriend, the love of my life, now please get the fuck out." Wonho smiles at the woman who now looks offended.

"You're seriously kicking me out?" She scoffs.

"I seriously am." Wonho laughs.

"Nice to meet you girlfriend, I'm his sister, Soya. And I'll be going now I guess." She snaps, grabbing her jacket and storming out.

"That's your sister?" You ask, relieved.

"Yes? Who did you think it was?" He wonders.

"A wife or fiancee." You laugh, feeling stupid now.

"You're the only one I want to be my fiance and then my wife." Wonho smiles, placing both his hands on your face and pulling you in for a kiss.

Fuck you missed him so much. You wrapped your arms around his neck as he pulled your body in close.

"Come" you whisper, pulling away from him and grabbing his hand to drag him to the bedroom.

You close the door, before facing Wonho with a loving smile on your face.

"What?" He laughs.

"I just missed you, and I want to show you how much I missed you." You whisper, gripping the hem of his shirt before pulling it over his body and throwing it out of your way. Placing your hands on his chest, you lightly push him back to fall onto his bed. Wonho moves himself up the bed, laying on his stomach while he waits for what you're going to do next. You quickly discard your shirt and bra, while also tossing your pants to the side, leaving you only in a pair of black panties.

"I want you to tell me what you want, and how you want it. Okay?" You whisper, placing kisses along his back. "This is all about you."

"You don't have to do this baby." Wonho groans as you run your hands up and down his back.

"I do. Now shhh." You whisper, stroking his shoulders and around his neck. You run your fingers up the back of his head and through his hair, tugging lightly.

You move yourself down his body, straddling his ass, so you can lay yourself flat against his back, peppering small kisses along his shoulders and his neck. Your perky breasts pinned against his back as you whisper some of the things you love about him.

"I love your smile, your eyes, your laugh." You whisper. "I love your arms, your abs, your voice. So handsome, so strong."

Sitting up, you rub your hands down his arms that are now spread out. You lay yourself against him again before you slide off, laying closely beside him. Wonho rolls to his side, cupping your face before leaning in for a kiss, one which you dodge, moving down the bed to rub your hands up and down his legs, making sure to relax him even more. Your hand reaches down between his legs and gently rubs his balls for a few seconds before moving back to his legs and ass.

"Seriously." He groans, rolling over abruptly.

Now you straddle yourself on top of his front, just above his hard cock. You run your hands up and down his arms, over his chest and down his abs.

Leaning forward, pressing a kiss to his forehead, before his hand reaches up, grabbing your head to pull you in for a kiss.

You smile as you break the kiss, looking him in the eyes. "Do you trust me?" You whisper. You stare at him until he nods yes.

Biting your lip as you wiggle yourself down, gliding your clothed pussy over his erect cock, earning you a groan from him.

You bite your lip as you move your panties over to the side, placing his cock in between the lips of your pussy, and grinding on him.

"Oh my god." He groans, his hands coming up to reach for your waist, helping your hips grind against his cock.

"You tell me what you want baby," you groan, his cock perfectly sliding against your clit.

"Suck my cock." He groans, using his large muscles to halt your movements.

"Anything you want, baby." You moan, sliding off him to get on all fours. You hover over him, licking up the pre cum that spilled from his cock, with the tip of your tongue.

"God. Don't tease me." He groans, bucking his hips slightly.

Opening your mouth, you take in as much of him as you can, making sure to hit the back of your throat as you go down.

"Such a good little cock slut." He groans, bucking his hips harder this time. "Come here."

You crawl towards him, leaning down to place a kiss on his lips. Wonho lifts his hands, cupping both your breasts, squeezing before pinching your nipples, tugging on them slightly.

"Do you like that?" He asks.

"Yes." You breathe. "This is supposed to be about you though." You partially whine.

"It is about me, I also like to make you feel good." He smirks. "Now put my cock back in your mouth."

After you deep throat his cock a few times, you come up for a breath and see Wonho's eyes dark, full of lust.

"Sit on my cock." He growls.

Without a second thought, you line your entrance up with his cock, slowly sinking yourself down on him.

"I missed the way your cock filled me up." You moan, your eyes rolling back slightly.

"Move." He spits, placing his hands back on your hips to make you start riding him.

Your hands move to his chest as you lift your ass up and slowly sink back down on his cock. "Fuck. I love that." Wonho groans, lifting your ass up to do it again.

You move yourself slowly against him, wanting to keep things loving and slow, but Wonho seemed to have other ideas, beginning to get a little impatient as he waited for you to speed up.

"Ride my cock baby, before I take over." He growls.

You smirk as you continue with the same pace, wanting you both to slowly cum together.

"I warned you." He snapped, sitting up and somehow flipping you so you were on your back, without his cock ever leaving your pussy.

"This is about me, right baby? Well I want to destroy your pussy." He snaps. "Open your legs wider."

With no hesitation, you spread your legs as wide as that can go while Wonho fucks you harshly. His hips snap as he pumps himself into you, desperately seeking his release, along with your.

"Rub your clit." He demands, watching your hand move between your lips and begin rubbing. "That's right baby, rub your clit till you cum."

"Fuck." You cry out, loving the sound of his voice when he talks dirty to you.

"You gonna cum baby? Let your pussy cum all over my cock." He groans, his pumps becoming faster but sloppy.

"Oh my god." You cry out, your orgasm bursting through your body, causing you to shake as you ride through it.

"Good girl." He smirks, his grunting becoming louder.

"Cum.. cum in my pussy." You cry out. Wonho grunts as he shoots his cum into you, painting your walls.

"Fuck." You both huff, laying in his bed together, catching your breath.

A few days later, you and Wonho were sitting in the cafeteria at work, having lunch together, when you received a message on your phone from your father.

"My father.. wants to see us bother." You tell Wonho, surprised.

"Let's go." He says, shrugging his shoulders.

"What? I was going to ignore it." You laugh.

"Well you could.. but I don't want you to not have a relationship with him because of me." Wonho admits.

"Trust me. You wouldn't be the reason." You say, rolling your eyes and heading up to his office with the love of your life in tow.

"You wanted to see us?" You say as you barg into the office.

"Hello, Y/N." Your father says.

"Hi. What?" You snap, unimpressed.

"Look." He sighs. "I want to apologize for my actions. I have realized I was very out of line, and should have more regard for your life and what you want to do. I just want you to be taken care of." Your father admits.

"Sir." Wonho interrupts. "I have every intention of taking care of your daughter to the best of my ability. I would and will do whatever I have to, to make sure she has everything she wants and needs. She will never be without."

"I sure hope so, son." Your father replies.

Nothing could take the smile off your face as you watch your father accept the man you love, and your Wonho forgive your father's terrible actions.

8 years later, and you and Wonho are still together and more in love than you were the day before.

A few days after you had sat down with him and your father, Wonho had gotten down on one knee and proposed.

Of course you said yes.

1 year later the two of you got married.

2 years later, your eldest son was born.

2 years after that, your second oldest son was born.

2 years after that, your youngest and last child was born, a daughter.

1 year ago, your father passed away from a heart attack. You were happy he was able to see your happy life with Wonho, and meet his grandchildren, but you missed him dearly. He had offered you the position of CEO, when he passed. He had said you were far better qualified than your brothers.

You happily declined.

As you sit on your deck, you watch Wonho run around, playing tag with your boys. You laugh as you watch them try to catch him, but fail to do so. Your heart flutters as you watch your daughter run to him, wanting to play but knowing she wasn't fast enough. He picks her up and cradles her in his arms as he carries her, allowing her to play with them. You never wanted your life to be anything different.

There was never a moment of doubt in your mind where you had not thought Wonho wasn't the one for you. He might have been a temptation in the beginning, but now he was your forever.

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