farewell, neverland

Rating: M (18+) | WC: ~2k | Genre: rom com, fluff, smut, office au

Warnings: power imbalance bc reader is his boss but he’s the one doing the pursuing, personal assistant!mingyu, he’s such a simp, mention of food, suggestive thoughts

Reader Notes: wears a skirt and heels, boss bitch, touch starved, gets nails done, wap, referred to as a woman

Mingyu glances at his watch, noting that it’s near lunch, and shuffles around the papers on his desk wishing he didn’t have bad news to give you. The end date of the project you’re overseeing will have to be delayed again, and he knows you won’t be happy.

You won’t take it out on your team - you understand that things happen - but it means you’ll have to explain to the higher ups why you need another month and talking to them always puts you in a sour mood. 

It’s likely because you and everyone else in this building knows you’re more qualified and better suited to the role than the six old men in that big conference room are, but until one of them retires or dies, you’re stuck where you are. That means Mingyu is stuck where he is too, but he truly would be happy to stay here forever. 

Mingyu has been your personal assistant for six months now. He’s a bit clumsy, and he tends to order the exact same coffee as you so he has an extra just in case, and he once forgot his own strength and knocked so hard on your frosted glass door, it shattered, but he’s still good at lots of things!

He’s attentive, eager, sharp, and he can always anticipate what you need before you even ask for it. He’s a pro at taking care of you, making sure you don’t work yourself too hard and that you drink plenty of water and eat regular meals.

He does everything for you, everything but your job, and ensuring that you’re happy and content and well cared for is one of his greatest strengths. 

Which is why he’s borderline devastated when he overhears you on the phone. Your voice isn’t loud from his desk, but he’s trained his ears to listen for you and listen they do. You’re not talking about him, thank God, but you are talking about the boyfriend you just broke up with.

You were dating him when Mingyu first started, and from the one and only time he met him at the office, he knew he wasn’t anywhere near good enough for you. Apparently, he even turned out to be bad for you, stressing you out and hurting your feelings and, worst of all (to you), he couldn’t make you cum. 

That’s shocking to Mingyu. He’s always been a giver during sex, gaining more pleasure from making someone else feel it rather than taking it for himself, but he knows not all guys are like that. This one didn’t even try, it seems from your complaints, and he can’t believe you lived like that for all these months. 

He doesn’t doubt you’ve cum in the meantime, he knows women masturbate just like men do, but hearing that you’ve been so neglected has his stomach churning.

If it were him, he’d have to loosen you up with two or three orgasms before he could even fit his cock inside you, and if you let him in without a condom, he’d obviously have to clean you up with his mouth after, guaranteeing a grand total of four minimum. 

To think that you’ve been giving yourself to that man and getting nothing in return…

Mingyu doesn’t think he can let that stand. 

So, he comes up with a plan.

Step 1. Show you how well he knows you.

Mingyu starts by rescheduling your non-essential lunch meeting, recognizing in your voice that you need some time to yourself, and orders your favorite from the place down the street. He’ll run out to pick it up in half an hour, leaving him just enough time to break the bad news to you. He hates that he’ll have to put even more of a damper on your day, but it’s better that you know now so you can adjust accordingly. 

He rolls his chair back and stands, reaching his hands up to the ceiling in a stretch before straightening his clothes out and running a palm over his hair to ensure it’s all in place. There’s a piece that always breaks free from the pomade and drives him crazy, but he doesn’t want to use too much and look all greasy. Predictably, the lock falls against his forehead and he rolls his eyes before popping a mint into his mouth and smoothing on some lip balm. 

You hung up with your friend a few minutes ago and he can’t hear you anymore, just his own footsteps on the marble as he walks the six feet to your door and knocks. You call out a low, “Come in,” and he turns the knob as gently as he can. You have a corner office on the fifteenth floor and the view is spectacular, but when he steps foot inside, all he can see is you. Your eyes are rimmed in red, your lashes are clumped together, and your lips are puffy, the smile they stretch in forced and false. 

“What’s up, Mingyu?” You ask, your voice a bit scratchy and your tone overly bright. 

“So… Joshua sent over the project report, and it looks like they’ll need three more weeks.”

He imbues his words with apology, finishing with his eyebrows pushed together and his lip bitten between his teeth. You heave a great sigh, your perfect posture melting as you set your elbows on the wood of your desk and drop your face into your palms. 

“God, can just one thing go right today?”

He shifts on his feet, staying silent as you process what exactly needs to be done. It’s fascinating to watch the thoughts play out on your face, the frustration and urgency and finally, the acceptance. 

“Okay, I’ll have to call Terry and let him know. He won’t be happy but I don’t fucking care,” you turn and stare out the window as you speak, sinking back into your chair and kicking off your heels. “They have their three weeks, and if they need to extend it again, I need to know now. Is there anything else?”

You sound so weary, like if he placed one more burden upon your shoulders, you’d collapse under the weight of it all. If Mingyu could, he’d carry all of your problems for you, hell, he’d carry you, but he can’t so he just squeezes his hands into fists behind his back, his fingers tingling with the desire to reach out to you. 

“Nothing bad,” he promises. “I pushed your 1 PM meeting to tomorrow and I’m picking up your regular from Diane’s. I thought you might want a breather, I hope that’s okay.”

You usually don’t mind changes to your schedule, as long as they’re not last minute additions that keep you here later, but he still worries about doing things without your permission. Your eyes leave the window, your gaze finding him, and he does his best not to shrink under your intense stare. Until tears start to gather on your lashes, that is. 

Then, he rushes to you, his hands hovering over your form, desperate to comfort you but not wanting to cross any boundaries. He speaks all at once, his words flying out so fast, they’re almost unintelligible.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I can move it back! I’ll move it back, it’ll be okay,” he soothes, petting the air around you as if that could do anything. 

“No, don’t move it,” you warble, your hands coming up to cover your face. “That’s just so thoughtful of you, Mingyu. That’s exactly what I need, a breather. Can I tell you something personal?”

Mingyu rushes to nod, his eyes wide and his breath stuck in his chest as you wipe away the tears on your cheeks. You glance away from him, your lips tightening and your brows tilting in a frown, “Derek and I broke up last night. I broke up with him, at least, but it still hurts. I mean, I wasted seven months on him, and the most thoughtful thing he ever did was throw an extra beer in the fridge for me every once in a while. I don’t even like beer.”

Defeat is clear in your voice, as is some measure of self-hatred. He doesn’t know what to say, beyond being sure he shouldn’t mention what else Derek wasn’t good at. He could tell you about his own disastrous breakup last year, or how it’s actually easy to do nice things for you, or that he’d be happy to do some very nice things for you, if only you’d ask. 

Instead, he says, “You deserve better,” and clenches his fists again when you just send him a sad smile and nod half-heartedly. 

His phone buzzes in his pocket, likely a text letting him know your order is ready for pick up, and he wishes he had a personal assistant of his own to send out so he could stay here with you. But he doesn’t, so he looks down at you from where he stands in front of your desk, longing to bundle you up and put you in his pocket so nothing and no one can ever hurt you again. 

That would be inappropriate, and impossible, and likely something you’re too independent for anyway. 

“I have to go get the food, can I grab you anything while I’m out?” He asks, his voice much softer than his words. 

You shake your head again, “No, thank you, Mingyu. Did you get something for yourself?” 

“No, I brought my lunch today,” he smiles, canines pushing against his bottom lip. 

“I should probably start doing that,” you sigh. “I bet yours is delicious, people still talk about the cake you made for Wonwoo’s birthday.” 

“I could start making a lunch for you, if you want,” Mingyu offers before he can actually think about it, about how intimate and domestic it would feel, packing a lunch for you and knowing you’re eating food he made with his own two hands. 

“Oh no, that’s way out of your pay grade, I couldn’t put you out like that.”

“I insist! Please let me,” he begs, clasping his hands together and bringing them up under his chin as he widens his eyes and pushes out his bottom lip. It takes less than thirty seconds for you to fold, your polite refusal defenseless against his expert pouting skills.  

“Fine!” You throw your hands up. “If you really want, you can make me lunch too. But you have to stop as soon as you don’t want to do it anymore, and that’s an order.”

God, he loves your stern voice. 

“Yes, ma’am,” Mingyu beams triumphantly, rocking back and forth on his heels to contain the excited energy flowing through him. He’s already brainstorming recipes in his head, taking into account your allergies and preferences, and he thinks he’ll have enough ideas to at least last him the month. 

“I’ll be back in twenty with the food,” Mingyu assures you as he backs up to your door, not wanting to take his eyes off you for a single second. You return your attention to your computer but look at him just long enough to smile gently and say, “Thank you, Mingyu. You’re the best.”

That little bit of praise from you makes him float all day. 

All the way through your afternoon meetings, all the way home on the subway, and all the way up to his apartment, where he immediately sits down to start a pinterest board for your daily lunches. He doesn’t even undress, just gets right to work searching for recipes and making pins of ideas he already has. 

He also maybe buys new tupperware and a classy little lunchbox to bring your containers in, and pays extra to have it arrive tonight. 

One can never be too prepared when it comes to seducing one’s boss. 

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AN: yayyyyy so excited to post the first part of this lil mini series!! i had this idea around a year and a half ago when i started writing so it's definitely been on my mind for a while and i'm so happy i finally put it to words so i could share it with y'all! i'm just about finished writing it and i'm planning on posting once a week, so it should be fully complete by the end of november!

thank you to @petrichor-mingi for beta reading!