#boss!au

You go back to the door but before you can pass through, he clears his throat. “Good girl.” 

You stop for a moment then carry on. Girl? You haven’t been called that in years. 

At your desk, you delve back into your screen. You have your own work still to manage next to your new tasks. It isn’t ideal but no one can accuse you of not being a team player. 

The red light on the phone flashes and you pick up the received, “sugar, honey. You forgot the sugar.” 

You fix your grip on the phone, “sir, did you want sugar or honey?” 

He snorts, “su-gar.” 

He hangs up. You set down the phone and go back to typing. You finish your email before you get up. You go to the kitchen and grab several packets of sugar. You can’t judge. Bodecker has a bit of extra hanging over his belt, the request isn’t surprising. You have a sweet tooth of your own but you cut sugar out of your coffee years ago. 

You go back to his office and tap on the door. He grunts, you enter, silence as your heels tap one the floor. You put the sugar beside his cup. 

“Didn’t ask for sugar for the desk,” he scoffs. 

You inhale as he doesn’t look away from his screen. It’s a test. The executives like to play games, see how far they can push others. Obviously, they think their attention is the ultimate trophy. From your years there, you know it’s not worth the effort. 

You rip open the first packet and pause, “how much?” 

“Three packs will do. Could use with something sweet.” 

The last comment says a lot. He needs sweetness because you’re not sweet. Pity. 

You stir it with the wooden stick and dump the waste in the bin. He slurps loudly as you head for the door. He gulps tightly then suppresses a belch. 

“Honey, I got some shoes I need picked up. Be a doll--” 

“With due respect, I’m not honey and I’m not a doll,” you turn to him. “I’m too keep your calendar and take minutes. I don’t think shoes fall within my purview.” 

“I’m sure you’re more than capable--” he cooes. 

“I was looking over your calendar, sir--” 

“Ah, ah,” he raises his hand to silence you. “Don’t interrupt me.” He curls his fingers then points at you, leaning his elbow on his desk. He clucks. “Barber fucking with me? He put you up to this?” 

“He asked me to take on the extra work--” 

“No, he’s messing with me. You?” 

You stare at him dully. You won’t let him deride you. He might think that every woman craves him but you only want the clock to spin to five and a glass of wine. 

“Maybe you should discuss it with him. Would you like me to pen him in?” You ask. 

His cheek ticks, “you bein’ smart with me?” 

“Sir, I’m doing my job.” 

“I’m telling you your job and you’re being defiant,” he accuses. “How about a smile?” 

You blink at him. You never got this obsession with smiling. The men don’t smile. They might smirk and leer, but most days they look nothing short of vacant. 

“Go on, bet ya pretty when you do,” he brings his other arm onto the desk and crosses them, leaning forward emphatically. “Smile for me, honey.” 

You clear your throat and enunciate your name clearly, “you can address me by my name.” 

“Far as I got it, you work for me, so I’ll call you what I like. And you’ll do what I say, so smile.” 

You stare across the office. You can’t do it. You check your watch. “Well, if there’s nothing else.” 

You back out and shut the door. You return to the desk and go back to resituating yourself. His shared calendar is a mess. The last intern double-booked him. You’ll need to make some calls. 

As you dial out, Bodecker’s office door swings open and he stomps out. You keep your eyes on the screen as you wait for an answer. He strides past you and down the next hall. 

The other end picks up and you work on rescheduling. One down, a lot to go. You heard the rumours that his assistants weren’t there to be more than eye candy, but you didn’t expect this chaos. Your task keeps you busy as you rearrange the blocks one at a time. 

A cough keeps you from your next call. You look up as Barber looks down at you. He sighs and frames his hips. You fold your hands and hold his gaze calmly. 

“What’s going on?” He asks. You know that tone, that question. 

“I got his coffee--” 

“You’re arguing with him,” he interjects. 

“Sir, I was told I would be carrying out admin. Professional work. With due respect, I don’t believe my job description or pay grade includes acting as a maid.” 

“That’s not—come on,” he extends and arm and plants his hand on your desk, posturing over you. “Give a little, okay? I asked you to do this because I know you can handle Lee. You got a good head on you and the man needs some stability. Get him on the right track, alright? It’s about the company, not you.” 

“I didn’t assume it had anything to do with me personally,” you assure him. 

“Is this about the money? We can factor the extra work in as overtime.” He suggests. 

“Thank you, sir, I’d very much appreciate that but... I don’t see any of the male admin fetching coffee. Not even the interns,” you counter. 

His lashes flutter and he rubs the side of his nose. “Humour him, alright? Some men like a smile with their coffee. He’s got a lot of work to do, your job is to support him, however he deems fit.” 

Barber’s stern tone yields no argument. You nod. “Yes, sir.” 

You turn back to your computer. He sighs again and shifts to sit on the corner of your desk. 

“Show me then. Give me a smile.” 

You wince. 

“If he asks--” 

“I’m asking,” he insists. 

Your nose flares and you keep your hand on your mouse. You look at him and swallow tightly. Your lips feel as if they’ll split and your cheeks tug as you force a smile. 

“Do you want me to giggle too?” You give a churlish chirp. 

He glowers and stands. 

“No one likes this, alright? We all just gotta do our part.” He taps your desk and pivots away. 

Y/N pauses, examining the secretary’s face. How could they alert their superior when the sweet girl was just so happy about her boyfriend finally kissing her?

“All riiight,” Y/N replies, turning toward the main doors leading into the office. “Only because of that kiss.”

They smile again before disappearing through the windowed double doors and making their way to their corner office on the far end of the floor. Y/N greets their coworkers, waving at those already submerged in their work and bowing to their superiors. Odd, they think, the entire executive board is here today. Something must be happening.

Y/N gets themselves situated at their modern Plexiglas desk, powering on their huge monitor and turning on lamps here and there. As soon as the computer hums to life, a loud two-toned chime goes off, signaling a high-importance email.

Smoothing out their slacks as they sit on their swivel chair, Y/N opens the email, which was sent to the entire editorial department. Something is happening, indeed.

In it, the department’s director had written:

Good morning, team:

Please meet in the conference room at 8 today to join me in welcoming a new employee to our department. I have important news to share, as well.

~Choi Jaeho-jungyeok

Y/N glances at the time on the computer: 7:57 AM. Yeet! they mentally screamed, shooting out of their chair and bee-lining for the conference room, situated between the editorial and creative departments.

Bursting through the large room’s white double doors, Y/N is greeted by a small symphony of good morning!s and annyeonghaseyo!s, and they bow their head to everyone while walking around to the last open chair at the corner of the rectangular table. Some coworkers have pads of paper in front of them; many have cups of steaming liquid; and others simply have their cell phones lying out. There’s one unfamiliar person sitting directly across Y/N in the other corner seat, though, looking like a stone with their elbows on the chair’s arms, hands clasped, and with nothing in front of them.

As soon as Y/N sits down and scoots in, they glance up to find this man already gazing at them.

Oh my God, they think.

The man across from them is young, around their age or older, and he looks like an Olympian god. Plentiful, chocolate-brown hair frames his intense, dark eyes, and his full lips are slightly pressed together in the tiniest of smirks. He’s wearing a crisp, white button-up with a skinny, dark purple tie. The lanyard holding a small placard hanging over it reads, Im Changkyun and beneath it, Jungyeok, Pyeonjibguk.

We have two directors now? Y/N thinks to themselves. Is that Choi-jungyeok’s big news?

Im Changkyun is still watching Y/N, and normally in a situation like this, they’d break eye contact. But something about this guy has started sucking them in, and the enigmatic glow of his eyes is not helping.

Jaeho causes both of them to snap out of it, though. “Okay, everybody, let’s get started.”

Jaeho is a fortysomething man, gray hair peeking through at his temples and his youthful face looking strangely alight today. He’s not normally this smiley, either. Standing at the head of the table, he clutches a large mug of fragrant coffee.

“You all got my email, evidently, so thank you all for being here and on-time. I mentioned that I have news, and I don’t intend to beat around the bush, so with that being said, I will be resigning as jungyeok, effective next Monday.”

A gaggle of gasps, what?!s, and nooo!s sounds from around the table.

“Order, order!” Jaeho dramatically raises his free hand like a judge, grinning at his joke. “I have been offered a wonderful opportunity on the other side of the city, and I spent a long time thinking it over, so this wasn’t an easy decision.”

He pauses to gulp some of his coffee, pocketing his other hand. “Many of you have already noticed the new face among us, and he’s here today to get acquainted with his new team, as he will be replacing me.”

Several of the surrounding executives collectively respond with an excited, “OH-ohhhhh.” No one seems really upset by this news, and even Im Changkyun has broken into a sheepish smile.

Y/N observes Mr. Im in the moment, noticing his sharp cheekbones and thick brows. His lips look the most tantalizing, totally full on the bottom with a perfectly curved Cupid’s bow above. They recognize a pair of silver hoops on his lobes, specifically from Cartier’s Love collection—ironically, the same design as Y/N’s gold ring on their thumb. Without realizing it, they emit a small hm in their amusement.

When Mr. Im glances at Y/N, they stiffen and immediately angle themselves toward Jaeho again.

“I have been training this employee both off-site and after-hours for the past week now because I, admittedly, wasn’t sure how you all would take the news. So I wanted to train him away from prying eyes,” Jaeho explains, occasionally looking down at the table. “For the next week, though, he’ll be in-house, sharing my office with me—’cause it’s really his now—and familiarizing himself with everyone as well as how you all work together. This is the last leg of onboarding for him and the last leg of Phenomenon Publishing for me. I’m very excited for both my and his future.”

Jaeho drinks more of his coffee and steps around his chair, pushing it in and resting his free hand on top. “I’d like everyone to get back to doing their magic now, and your new jungyeok will spend the day going around meeting everyone. Thanks, guys.”

And with that, Jaeho exits the conference room.

Everyone sits around for a moment, processing their director’s words, but more so trying to figure out if they should say something to Mr. Im, who’s still in the room.

Mr. Im speaks up, sitting upright in his chair. “Annyeonghaseyo, everyone. I want to make my introduction to you all a little more personal, so instead of doing it here and hiding with Choi-jungyeok the rest of the day, I’m going to spend a little time with each of you today. I don’t just want to know your name and role; I want to learn a little about you guys too because we’ll be working closely from now on. I hope to fill the jungyeok’s shoes, quite honestly,” he finishes with a deep chuckle.

Im Changkyun’s voice is like hot blood sliding down Y/N’s skin: unsettlingly appealing, deep, magnetic, and velvety. They gulp hard, fidgeting with their gold ring under the table as Mr. Im speaks.

Y/N’s coworkers rise from their seats, formally bowing to their new boss and making hush-hush conversation amongst themselves as they filter out of the brightly lit room. Y/N is the last to follow the crowd out, and as they send one last furtive glance toward Mr. Im while approaching the double doors, he turns to meet their curious eyes and raises an eyebrow.

Stunned at their unusually brazen behavior, Y/N nods politely before ducking out and speed-walking back to their office. They close the door a little too hard but only because they’re desperate to sit down and catch their breath.

What is happening to me, they think, drinking their own iced coffee.

Y/N spends the rest of their day immersed in their editing tasks, working diligently to keep their mind from dwelling on God himself and how heart-stopping-attractive he is, how entrancing his voice is. They respond to emails as normal, reference the same books as normal, listen to the same low-fi playlist as normal, field interns’ questions as they take turns knocking on Y/N’s door as normal, and they even spend their lunch hour in the cozy break room.

Im Changkyun is nowhere to be seen, and by the time 4 PM rolls around, the last hour of the workday, Y/N had calmed down. In fact, they’d had a spurt of productivity after lunch and were able to finish editing two of the larger manuscripts that’d been stressing them the past few weeks.

Y/N even debated taking off the last hour to quietly read at their desk instead of emailing the finished documents for Choi-jungyeok to skim over, as he gives final approval before the company convenes with the respective authors again. But that’s never been Y/N’s style, breaking rules. They were there to work—“do their magic,” as Jaeho had put it, and that’s how they’d spend the remainder of the day.

Wrong.

The all-glass door to their office swings open, and God himself walks in, plopping down in the small loveseat on the right side of Y/N’s desk.

“I saved you specifically for last,” he says, leaning back in the chair and freezing his eyes on Y/N’s.

You’ve seen it when you walk out of your apartment, gold glitter reflecting off the dark tinted windows of the private limo that waits for some equally dark dressed woman. When you get off the tram and walk to around the corner to see Heaven’s Gate reflect the sunrise off of it’s spotless glass windows, visible from what you can only imagine is every corner of Seoul. When you walk into the over-sized hall through the back door and tug on your uniform, catching your reflection in your golden name tag. When you scoot in next to the two other girls at reception a few minutes before 6, and glance carefully at the heels so high that they cannot be comfortable. The dresses so soft and shimmery that if you were to look too long you might damage your retinas.

Those colors that scream rich. You don’t think you like those colors. Secretly, of course, you long for them at the same time. You long to touch and smell and breathe those colors, those fabrics, those drinks and those people like everyone else. But they’re not meant for you, you think. They wouldn’t match with the blush of your cheeks, the dark under your eyes and certainly not with the snow white color of your soul on a rainy day. Still though, it’s enchanting to watch, like visiting the zoo for the nth time. You know what types of figures will pass the doors, but can’t find it to look away.

The women with smiles of a million won, diamonds draped around their dainty fingers and necks and littered in their hair like they were born with them attached to their skin. The ones with the long champagne dresses, flaunting their elegant slim shapes and giggling while connecting their arms with the date of the evening. The men with suits that look so crisp that they must have never been worn before, those who slide their black cards across the counter with a smile. Before you got a job at Heaven’s gate, you honestly believed that every rich person was terrible. A stereotype, sure, but one taken from reality, you assumed. Most people here though, are polite, magical at their best and at least helpful at their worst.

There are the few rot apples in the bunch, the teenage boys who come in smoking, smile on their soft lips like the entire world revolves around them and maybe it does to an extent. The girls who give sneers when the bellboy drops one of the twenty-eight bags that were pushed into their hands. But these are exceptions, and so you’ve grown to admire the beauty of gold. You admire the confidence of the people who walk into the hall like they have nothing to lose and everything to gain. You get lost in the eyes of the woman who sends you a wink when you give her a deep bow and rush to hold the door open for her and her pristine blood-red heels.

You eat them up like cherry ice cream, because in truth, you don’t know how long this will last and you long to keep a little bit of the glamour locked in your mind, dusted on your fingertips. Heaven’s Gate is the largest and most reputable housing chain in South Korea, and maybe even all of Asia. It’s only affordable for people who have so much money that they could fill a swimming pool with it, of course, but it’s gorgeous, and the people in it are too. How you ever got a job, even a minor one, is still beyond you. If Heaven’s Gate was a cake, she’d be so sweet that you get cavities just looking at it, if she was a person, you’d beg for a single breath in your direction.

As you carefully sip on a cup of coffee in the back room, you sigh. Even this room, one for the staff that no guest will ever see, is grandiose. It’s almost painful, how much money it must cost to exist in the vicinity of something like Heaven’s Gate. The name is no lie. You let your nail run over the marble counters for a second, and glance around the room. The table is a white marble, chairs decorated in gold, the curtains are a delicate creme and the lights are golden chandeliers that create sparkles on your skin. Your damn coffee tastes like it came straight from up in the clouds, for fuck sake. You take a look out of the window, and press your lips tight. The floor-to-ceiling windows give you a view into the small car park that sits behind the complex, displaying the billions of won worth of cars that have their own little paradise.

The car park is also called the Garden of Eden, and even this is no lie. The cars are shrouded in the shadows of the tall, blindingly green trees, and surrounded by millions of flowers that all somehow look too expensive for a normal garden. There’s a little waterfall that runs from farther into the park, and runs past the first line of cars as if the cars themselves need a nice view too. The large white fountain that lights up in gold when evening falls is just visible from the window here. You sigh, and put your cup down, placing it in the dishwasher under the sink. You don’t need to do this since the cleaning crew passes every two hours, but you feel guilty leaving it out to dirty the beautiful counters.

A gentle knock comes on the door, as you look up in slight surprise. Your co worker Bea walks in with a small smile on her cherry lips, and gives you a little nod. She is, much like you are, dressed in a silk top, a soft gold of color, and a deep coal colored pencil skirt. The gold name tag sits proudly on the right side of the uniform, name engraved into it clearly. Her black heels tap against the heated stone floor as she walks over to you and starts making a cup of coffee for herself. “Do you want one?” She asks over her shoulder, to which you gratefully decline. “Ah, is your break almost over?”

“Yeah,” you glance at the clock once, “I still have a minute and fifty-three seconds.” Bea giggles and nods, while you move to the mirror to check your uniform, just to be sure. When you first got it in the mail, you thought a mistake must have been made. Which employer gives their employees a silk blouse? You’d spent the whole of your first day terrified of spilling anything on the fabric. You quickly understood how important impressions here were, from the bellboys to the chefs in the kitchen, everyone looked like they walked straight out of a fairy tale. You wipe your hands on the soft white towel once, and nod. About time to get back to work.

“Oh, Y/N!” Bea suddenly calls, as you turn to look at her. “Are you coming to lunch later? I want to go but I’m not sure if my schedule will allow it.”

You bite your lip. “I wasn’t planning on going, honestly.” You internally let out a long sigh. All of it is a lot, the company lunches. The morning staff gets to go to lunch at three, to make sure all the guests have had their meals before, and talk and drink until about five. All while the afternoon staff is helping the guests. It’s a whole gathering, and that almost every single workday.

“But you can? You’re missing out on an amazing meal paid by the company because you want to?” At her shock, you giggle, and nod.

“I feel guilty letting Heaven’s Gate pay my food.” You admit, glancing at the clock again. Thirty seconds. You might have to cut your exchange with Bea short.

Bea hums, and takes a sip of her coffee as she leans her back against the counter. “I don’t know if it’s true but I actually heard that the employee meals aren’t paid by Heaven’s. I heard it’s straight out of the Boss’ personal bank account.”

Your mouth almost falls open unceremoniously, but you manage to hold it in. Lunch for hundreds of employees, everyday? “That can’t be, right? Why would he do that?”

“He always says in interviews that he wouldn’t be anywhere without his staff. Maybe he’s thankful.” You look away from the pretty girl to stare at the floor, in shock. If that’s true, the Boss would be even more sickly rich than you thought. But no, that’s crazy. No one can be that stupidly rich. Right?

You’re sure everyone is losing their shit. You’re losing your shit along with them. Your heart beats about seventy times a minute too fast, and your throat is as dry as the Sahara desert. Something about seeing the more experienced employees freak out, made every string in you snap. The boss has never been in Seoul for longer than a week since you started at the company, which means that you’ve never had to interact with him before. Haerin, the head receptionist, touches up her lipstick quickly, before sliding her chair back in place, and presses a hand to her chest. Bea looks about ready to throw up, and you’re sure you must be icy white from stress, or as red as a strawberry.

“Don’t worry, girls.” Haerin smiles as she looks over at you two, but you can see the nerves swim in her eyes too. “The Boss is a nice man, and you probably won’t even have to say anything. Just don’t stare too hard at him with your love-hearts, Bea.” Bea chuckles at the comment, and send the older girl a little glare. At the comfortable banter, you feel yourself relax a little. You’ve been around people who could buy your life more times than you can count. This is worse though. This man is your employer, and he could choose to fire you right on the spot, if he so pleased. No one apparently expected him to pass by today, since he was in Paris ‘till yesterday, but Haerin’s wide-eyed announcement came before you had time to process.

You’re silenced when a car pulls up in front of the entrance, a white Porsche with fire-red tires. Two people of staff rush over to open the doors of the car, and help the people out. The woman that slips out of the passenger side is tall, a model no doubt, and flicks her blonde hair over her shoulder with a gentle smile of her delicately manicured face. She wears a dress as blue as the water in the Bahamas, to match her eyes. The man that slips from the driver side hands his keys to the staff, and says something with a blinding smile, before walking over to hold out his arm to the woman. The man is taller than her, and has beautiful honey colored skin, and black hair. His tie matches her dress. They both make it up the stairs to the entrance, million dollar smiles on both of their faces. The flashes of paparazzi are blinding.

When you glance at your co workers, they seem to relax slightly. Haerin puts on her beautiful welcoming smile, and bows to greet the guests. It’s not the Boss, but still your heart pitter patters almost right out of your chest. Even quicker than usual, you think, Haerin has the room key in her hands and offers it with a smile, receiving the black card of the man in return. She hands it to Bea, who passes it to you, for a quick scan. You then hand it back, and glance back at the gorgeous couple. You might never stop getting starstruck while working here. When the payment confirms, Haerin sends them off with the last bit of info, Bea handing them the flyer carefully. The man gives a grateful nod to each of you, before leading the elegant woman to the elevators.

You don’t get time to process, because a loud growling engine makes a halt in front of the entrance just as the white Porsche is driven off. This time though, the paparazzi are snapping so many pictures that the entire evening sky is light up with white. You straighten your back to look, but all you see is the flashes of cameras left and right. You can only imagine him getting out, sending a charming smile at the cameras, and walking up the stairs confidently. The security turns toward the entrance as well, making sure to keep any paparazzi out. They do this anyway, but this time it seems like it might be necessary. The glass rotating door soon reveals a person, bathing his shape in a glow from the flashes.

When he walks through the door, your eyes have trouble processing. You’ve never seen a person ooze so much confidence. Byun Baekhyun. Ceo of Heaven’s Gate, along many, many other businesses. Only 27, and owns 13 companies, each worth millions, along with some of the most expensive properties on earth. You don’t know how high he is on the richest people list, but the top ten would definitely not surprise you. Baekhyun casually strolls over to the reception smiling like he owns the place, because he quite literally does, and leans his elbows on the pristine pink marble.

You can’t help but stare. His gorgeous face is lined by a sharp jaw, cute button nose and pinky lips fitting on there perfectly like a dolls features. They are accompanied by the prettiest, most enchantingly seductive eyes you’ve ever seen on a man, all coated in a shine that seems to come from the inside. His hair is a shimmery copper brown color, striking against his dark, deep blue eyes. Contacts, you guess, but not any less breathtaking. His suit is a royal blue too, shining in the light like Cashmere, and stretching over his wide shoulders just that tiny bit, as he leans forward. His lips curl up on his cute cheeks, a gorgeous smile slipping on, gentle and proud.

The suit becomes him perfectly, a handmade addition to his entire persona, accenting everything attractive perfectly. Wide shoulders and chest, slim waist, strong legs and a perfectly shaped butt. Not that you’re looking. He’s absolutely, entirely made of gold, you’re sure of it. You are probably drooling. After staying silent for at least a few seconds, Mr. Byun takes out his card, and slides it across the counter towards Haerin, who looks more than a little starstruck too. She gives him a deep bow, and scans the card, smiling nervously. “Good evening, Sir. It’s lovely to see you visit once again.”

The man nods, and finally straightens up, winking at her. “Likewise.” In a split second, Haerin’s cheeks flush a bright red. Mr. Byun looks around the beautiful welcome hall for a bit, as if taking in his creation, and back at the paparazzi outside. It’s only after a second you realize Bea is shoving you with her arm, gesturing to hand her one of the flyers. You flush and hand it to her, right before Baekhyun can see. “Is the top floor free this week, Haerin? If not, my penthouse will suffice.” He brushes his hands over his suit jacket once, and smiles again. You’ve never seen anyone’s face light up so much with a single smile.

“The top floor is free until Friday, Sir. Should I move the reservation of the residents to another floor?” Haerin quickly informs, a small frown on her gentle face.

“No need.” He takes Bea’s flyer into his long fingers with a teasing crinkle of his nose. “I’ll stay on the top floor until Thursday, and then move down to my penthouse.” He gives Haerin another little smile when she nods in understanding and indicates things on the computer. You snap out of your staring long enough to reach into the drawer to your side and take out the key card, handing it to Bea carefully. Room 208, on the hundred thirtieth floor. You almost laugh at the irony. They call it a room, but the home is bigger than your entire apartment floor.

When Haerin hands him the card, he gives her a little bow, and starts walking backwards. He glances through the door for a second, feigning a frown. “Be careful with my car!” He calls, before giggling and looking at the reception desk on more time. As if someone so rich would care what happened to their car. “I’ll see you ladies later. Have a good evening.” As he turns to walk over to the elevators, his eyes meet yours. Just a split second, they meet yours for the first time this evening, and widen. He keeps walking but a second later, he looks again, definitely straight at you. Your cheeks probably flush bright red. Then he’s disappearing into the elevator with confident steps, and out of view.

Bea’s hand wrapping around your arm pulls you out of your dreamy fascination and back into reality. “Holy shit. That was so intense.” She whispers, leaning into you a little. You blankly nod, and look back at the elevator. That must have been the most surreal moment of your life. You know of Byun Baekhyun, of course, you’d be an idiot not to know of your filthy rich boss. The first time you heard his name was four years ago, long into his career but fresh into yours, back then he had black hair and stared you down on a magazine cover as the most influential man of the year. You’ve read about him and seen his pictures more times than you can count but nothing, nothing does him justice. You decide it’s the eyes. They don’t capture the full magic of his eyes.

With a yawn, you settle behind your desk. You’ve never had the night shift before, and you imagine it shows. You’re determined to stay professional though, and blink a couple of times in hopes of getting the need of sleep out. You briefly wonder how many people would be passing through the doors this late, or early, but since it’s enough to have a whole crew work through the night, it must be a decent amount. Then again, you guess rich people have a lot of parties to attend to. Unlike you.

The silence is broken by the back door being cracked open, and a knowing smile walking through. Sehun, you read from his name tag, smiles at you and waves. He walks over and takes the seat next to you, not before placing a large cup of coffee in front of your face. “So you’re the poor soul they got to do night shift, huh?” With a giggle, you thank him for the coffee and take a sip. You’ve seen Sehun a few times around, when you came on mornings early and he left late, and once at the paid lunch. You haven’t spoken much before, but he seems quite nice.

“I volunteered, actually.” At his comically offended look, you break out laughing. “I know.”

“You must either be very dedicated to this job, or crazy.” Sehun concludes, taking a sip himself with a grin. “I mean, if you want a raise I’m sure you could just ask Mr. Byun and he’d transfer some pocket change to your account.”

You snort, looking away. “Yes, of course. That’s how people get raises, isn’t it?”

Sehun hums, before folding his one leg over the other, and leaning back in his chair a bit. He’s wearing the male version of your uniform, white button-up and light golden tie, along with black slacks. He smiles when he sees you looking. “This is your first nightly reception job, isn’t it?”

You nod. “It is. It’s also my first time being with just two behind this desk, if I must admit.”

“You’ll have to hand people keys and scan their cards, think you can handle it?” His grin only grows when you don’t respond. “You know, the nights aren’t that bad. They’re pretty fun, actually. You get to see a lot of people stumble in on stilettos and with partners they definitely didn’t leave with.” This, in all honesty, surprises you. The people who enter during the day are so polished, so spotless, that any doubts didn’t cross your mind. Of course, humans are still humans.

Sehun groans for a second as he stretches his back, before he gets up from the chair. “Give me just one minute. I need to use the toilet real quick. I’ll be back in a flash, okay?” You nod, and watch him leave around the corner with some hurried steps, before taking a deep breath. You look at the windows, who now give a clear view over the fountain, as it lights up the driveway, along with the lines of spots. While you stare, a black Lamborghini rolls up slowly. Your palms get sweaty, as you look back and forward between the car and the way Sehun left. You’ve heard the speech you’re supposed to give new guests a million times by now, but you’re far from head receptionist.

The lift dings, making you scream internally and quickly put Sehun’s chair where it’s supposed to be, standing up smoothly. Out walks, with a casual stroll, Mr. Byun himself. His hair is styled away from his face, wearing a deep brown suit jacket that has the Gucci logo littered all over in sparkling letters. His hands are stuffed into the pockets, bulging them as if that piece of fabric doesn’t cost more than your rent, as his shoes tap calmly across the perfect floor. When he looks over at the reception desk, his eyebrows shoot up, confusion evident on his face. He walks over, before coming to a halt in front of you. He smells really nice, you notice. You don’t have a clue what scent it’s supposed to be but don’t doubt it costs way too much. A hint of sweetness, but laced with masculinity.

“Good evening, Mr. Byun.” You start, hoping the smile distracts from the nervous way your hands are clasped behind your back. “How can I help you?”

Baekhyun smiles at you, something that makes your heart slam, if possible, even harder against your rib cage. His eyes rake down to catch your name tag subtly, as if he doesn’t want you to notice. And if you weren’t staring so hard you would have missed it, too. “Good evening, Y/N. Where has your colleague gone?” His eyes are on yours the whole time, eye contact way too intense for you to take. Your heart really might soon give out if he keeps this up.

“He’s just gone to the restroom, Sir. He’ll be back soon, I’m sure.”

Baekhyun hums in thought, before tapping his fingers on the marble, and glancing behind him. At the other side of the room is a door towards one of the many lounge rooms, now bathing in a gentle dimmed orange light. You doubt there’s anyone in there right now, apart from the serving staff and their champagne bottles. He turns back to you, and fishes something out of his back pocket, pressing his lips together. “Well, I’d like something delivered to my penthouse, please.” He sorts through a stack of at least ten different cards, sliding a gold one over to you. You nod, as you wait for the rest of his words. “Another mini fridge, for on the balcony. I’m sure I once had one but I think I might have moved it to my jet at some point.” He smiles.

You open your mouth to answer, only to realize you don’t have anything useful to say, and nod a couple times in acknowledgement. You slide the gold card towards you and grasp it between two fingers, leaning over to scan it. It slips though, and is sent clattering to the floor in the otherwise silent room. You can feel blood surge to your cheeks while you bend to pick it up, wishing you could just sink into the floor from shame. “I’m so sorry, that was clumsy-” When you get up, you smack your head into the bottom of the desk, and double over with a little yelp. “Aw, aw, aw, aw, aw.” You rub the back of your head when you straighten up, and just sigh. At this point, you don’t know if your nerves give up trying to entertain you or if you’re just numb.

You scan his card, and slide it back over to him, right when Baekhyun chuckles. You look up to see him looking with an endeared smile. “Are you okay over there?”

“I’m okay.” You ensure with a little guilty smile, waving your hands in front of you, and lean over the computer to confirm the order.

Baekhyun leans over the desk though, and into your space. “Let’s see.” He mumbles, gently placing his one hand on your cheek and the other behind your head, rubbing it back and forth gently. Your brain goes so fried that you can’t even make a sound, let alone move. It’s about three seconds of physical contact you were entirely unprepared for. He smiles again, before letting go. “That’s definitely going to be a bump.” You think you mouth a ‘thank you’, but at this point you might have said anything or nothing at all. He puts his card back into his back pocket, and takes a step back from the counter, looking over at his car. “Ah, walk with me?” He motions his head just slightly, as an added nudge to get you to move.

“Uhm- I-” You tumble, wiping your hands on your skirt, “the reception will be empty if I…”

Baekhyun smiles. “I think guests will forgive you walking the owner to his car.” His voice is a tad lower when he teases, going along with the little tilt of his eyebrow. You swallow, and nod, hurrying around the long desk on your heels to walk over to him. Right at that moment, Sehun comes around the corner. His eyes widen significantly when he notices that he just missed the Boss himself, and then even more at you. He sends you a questioning look, that you just mimic as you come to a halt next to Byun Baekhyun himself. You will yourself to wipe the mute look of shock of your face and smile.

Baekhyun holds out his arm, that you grab just ever so lightly, your fingertips barely brushing the fabric of his suit. He starts walking then, a smile on his lips that you catch from the corner of your eyes. You two walk through the door smoothly, into the chilly night air, and descend the beautiful stairs. In the few seconds it takes, you think you’ve gone through about a thousand logical reasons why you’re doing this, and a thousand more illogical ones. Baekhyun grabs the key from the man in front of him with a little nod, and deposits you to wait around the passenger side. He hurries his steps just a little to get into the low car, and rolls down the passenger window.

You blankly watch as he leans over to the console, and fishes through something to look up at you. You bend over so that you can take whatever is in his outstretched arm. “Take this to go get yourself an ice pack and some painkillers, please. I’m sorry about your head.” In your hand are six bills of a hundred thousand won. Before you can even open your mouth to discuss about the huge amount of money he just stuffed into your hands without looking, he sends you a blinding smile and a wave. “Don’t get too cold in that stuffy reception. Have a good night, Y/N.”

“You too.” You can just mumble, before the black Lamborghini speeds out of the driveway, into traffic.

Bea makes a face, and looks over at you once. “I mean,” she mumbles, stuffing one of the pralines in her mouth like it’s no big deal, “they’re cute, but they can’t be serious, right?” On the counter in the back room lay three golden boxes, with each of your names scribbled on top. Haerin giggles as she too takes out the present, and holds it up in front of her with her eyebrows shooting up. You can’t hold a little smile. In the bow is a pair of extremely soft, thick thigh high socks, black and with little bows at the front. You too untie the pretty packaging and open the box, breaking out in giggles. Bea shakes her head but smiles, mouth dropping open. “I mean, it’s not that damn cold at that desk. This is just overkill.”

“I think they’re nice.” You grin, poking the extremely soft, woolly fabric. You carefully take them out.

Bea glances at you and gives you a little shove. “As a uniform?!” She frowns when you laugh, and place the socks back in the bow. “I’m going to be sweating my ass off.”

Haerin shakes her head. “It’s designer.”

“Of course it is.” You sigh, shaking your head. You glance inside to check the label, and sure enough. Marc Jacobs. You don’t want to know how ridiculous the price of a couple of socks was. You pout, but pop off your heels, and bend down.

“What are you doing?” Bea questions, looking over at you.

“If Mr. Byun wants me to wear these, I’m going to wear these. At least until he’s back in New York or Barcelona or something. I’m not losing my job because I’m feeling a tad hot.” You giggle when you glance over at her begrudgingly put on the socks as well.

“How can I put my heels over this? It’s just silly.” Bea sighs, but she clearly isn’t ready to lose her income either. Not that you’re so sure Mr. Byun would just fire her, thinking back to yesterday. He genuinely seems like a good person, just coated in much more money than any sane person needs. When you turn around to put the box away, your eyes widen slightly. On the inside of the box is a tiny message scribbled in pen, the same messy handwriting as on the top of the box. ‘How’s your head? -B’

You don’t dare tell your co workers, because what would they think of you? Instead, you take the box and the other empty ones, and stack then next to the trash can, before walking out the door and behind the desk. Your head is fine, a little sore but fine nevertheless and you can’t help but wonder why your Boss would care. You didn’t use the money he gave you yesterday, but did go buy an ice pack after work, in the little shop the closest to the station. There’s only expensive stores in the vicinity, and you were not going to spend twenty thousand won for an overpriced luxe ice pack that you could easily get for two thousand won instead. You had just placed the money in a white envelope and placed it on your desk, in a hopes to get to deliver it back to him.

You don’t know if other people would have just taken the money, but you felt guilty about it. As you settle on your chair, the lounge across the reception catches your eye. There were definitely no huge flower bouquets on the tables last night, let alone three luxurious beige leather couches, with gold rims. Baekhyun sure had a vision for his company, and he never seemed to be satisfied. You look away when Bea and Haerin come to take their places too, talking among themselves quietly until they take place, then slipping into professional mode. It’s 6 now, and you only got off at 4 earlier, which left you with about half an hour of sleep, which you decided to skip as well. You just figure you could get an extra long night when you get off at 3.

At around 1 in the afternoon, you find out that you’re really not the type to go without sleep. You can barely keep your eyes open, and keep falling asleep on your hand, only to snap awake when your head bobs too much forward. Bea snickers every time it happens, but doesn’t say anything. She’s also had the night shift a few times when she was a newer employee and she ended up even more zombie like than you. Still though, you keep an eye out for Mr. Byun. He doesn’t pass reception the entire morning, and at two, you start getting a bit fidgety. You’d really like to deliver him the money right away, so that your conscience got a little break. You excuse yourself, and stand up. “I need to go deliver Mr. Byun the documents of the ordered mini-fridge before my shift ends. Would it be okay if I went up now, Haerin?”

Haerin blinks her long lashes at the clock quickly, before nodding. “Of course. He’s still on top floor, I think. And when you go, would you mind dropping off some of the paperwork left here?” You give her a grateful bow, and stand up to take the papers from her. You just did a quick prayer that he would not be at lunch yet, and hurry your steps to the elevators. The gorgeously gold decorated elevators, along with a deep black sort of stone. It wouldn’t surprise you if this too, was marble. You quickly press the button, and cross your arms over your chest. Though you’ve been to visit the ‘rooms’ a few times when you just started working, you’ve never ever been up higher than the fiftieth floor. Both because you’re mildly scared of highs and because that’s where the really, really rich people live.

You step into the empty lift slowly, and brush your hand on your skirt, before pressing the very top floor. Hundred thirty, to be exact. When you said Heaven’s Gate might be visible from every part of Seoul, you weren’t kidding. It’s the second highest building in the world to date. You have to scan your employee card, to get up to it too. With a deep breath, you watch the doors close. The calming music that plays is vaguely recognizable, but you’re too busy flicking your eyes all over the elevator in worry to care. When you get up to floor seventy two, within a sickeningly quick span of time, the lift stops, and opens. In walks a tall man, his stature standing far above you with dark hair and even darker eyes. Your breathing holds.

World class singer Park Chanyeol is standing in an elevator with you. His voice plays through the speakers in the small room. He sends you a warm smile, and presses the button, before the door closes again. Trying to stay professional, you only glance over twice, clenching the papers between your fingers too tight. Park Chanyeol is one of those people you had heard of staying in Heaven’s Gate, but had never actually seen. He’s wearing a dark suit, very crisp and clean looking, and his hair is styled neatly. He’s not wearing any type of make-up, you notice, used to see the singer on magazines in his signature soft glam eye looks. He still looks incredible though. When the elevator reaches it’s destination, he steps out, sending you a little nod of the head.

You only dare breathe after the doors close again, and continue up, watching the floors flash by in an instant. When you finally get up to the last floor, you need to take a deep breath to calm your nerves and gather your wit. When you walk out, you’re surprised to be in his actual house. You’re inside his actual house, without being checked by security or anything. You just look around blankly, and swallow. This isn’t the case with the lower floors, so you’re not sure what to do. “Uhm,” you clear your throat, and knock on the frame of the elevator once, “Mr. Byun? I have the paperwork for your order and the ones that were left for you at reception.”

A soft hum comes from somewhere in the stupidly large place, followed by a raspy voice, no doubt from sleep. “One minute. I’m putting on clothes.” You can feel the heat flush your cheeks, as you look out the window. “Take a seat!” He calls after you, and you move to do just that. The couches are decorated with Gucci logos, most likely custom, and way too soft for a normal person to have. It keeps surprising you, even though it shouldn’t. The view from the wall of windows though, genuinely makes you gasp. You can see the Ocean. That shouldn’t be possible, and yet, you’re so high up that it is. It’s faint, sure, but you can see it. You put the papers down on the coffee table, no doubt designer, and walk a little closer. Though you don’t dare look down, you watch with held breath. It’s like being up in the clouds.

“Pretty, isn’t it?” You turn to watch Baekhyun walk around the corner, his hands crossed over his chest comfortably. He’s in a black, silk blouse, and black slacks. The shirt stretches over his shoulders ever so slightly, keeping it snug. You smile at the fabric choice. He sure has a preference, doesn’t he.

“I’m not such a fan of heights,” you admit, moving back to take a seat in the couch as he asked, “but you can’t deny the view.” Baekhyun nods, crossing the room to take a seat in the couch opposite you. With a polite smile, you slide the papers across the table, and sink back into your seat. “I don’t know if you have need for the receipt of the mini-fridge, but I thought I’d make sure. And the other bundle was sent up by Haerin.”

Baekhyun nods, and crosses his one leg over the other, quickly flicking through the pages. “Ah, taxes, taxes and more taxes. Of course.” He smiles, puts the papers down, and catches your eyes as he gets more comfortable in the soft plush. “Well, thank you, Y/N. I could have gotten them on my way down but still, I appreciate it.”

“I also,” you swallow, putting the envelope in front of him with a slight blush, “wanted to return this. I can’t just accept a sum of money from you, Sir. It would go against everything I stand for and I just… wouldn’t feel comfortable accepting it. Though I am very grateful for the thoughtfulness that you have shown me.” Baekhyun’s smile falters for a second as he opens the envelope, glancing inside swiftly. He places it back on the table just as fast, his mouth corners twitching.

He stands from the couch, and walks around it to stare out the window, stance casual but screaming authority nevertheless. “I hope you like the socks at least. I saw them last night and thought them quite cute. Don’t you agree?” He glances over his shoulder to look at the black socks that cover your legs today, and then at you, eyebrow lifting in question. You nod quickly. “I’m glad. You looked cold yesterday.” He turns to face you. “Do you know why I started construction on Heaven’s Gate in the first place? Do you have a clue?”

You stare at him but are unable to give a useful answer, instead picking at your skirt. “No, Sir.”

“Because I wanted to build the highest building in Asia. That’s the only reason. And investors were kind enough to see the opportunities that would bring and helped me bring it to life. Point being,” he smiles, leaning over you a little top pick the envelope back up, “I have so much money I don’t know what to do with it anymore, Y/N. Do me a favor, and take the money?” He holds the envelope in front of you again. You stand up though, and let your arms hang limply to your side.

“I can’t do that, Byun Baekhyun.” You bite your bottom lip, but stay stubborn, even when Baekhyun’s eyebrows shoot up in an amused frown. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a company lunch to attend. I hear it’s being paid by the Boss himself, and I wouldn’t want to miss it.” You ignore the way your stomach flips when you walk towards the elevator and get in. Just before the doors close, you catch Baekhyun’s giggle as he walks away. You hope you didn’t just lose your job, but hey. Like your parents always say, ‘Don’t let a man buy you what you can buy yourself..’ You smile as you go down, crossing your arms over your chest. Not even a man who makes billions a year.

Safe to say that when you arrive to work after the weekend, you’re more than a little surprised to see a huge bouquet on your desk, a beautiful mix of pinks and reds, with in the middle some sort of golden ornament. You stare at it blankly for at least a solid minute, enough to have Bea creep up behind you. She squeals when she sees it, rushing over to slap your arm. “I didn’t know you had a boyfriend. How romantic is this?!” You frown, and bite your lip, before shoving it a bit to the side. You don’t have a boyfriend. Along the side hangs a little tag, with the familiar scribbly handwriting, though this time a lot neater. ‘Please bring a stapler up to my penthouse, floor sixty. I’m in desperate need -B’

You roll your eyes, but take the stapler from the drawer under your desk, and stand up. “I’ll be right back. Apparently I need to bring Mr. Byun a stapler.” Bea sends a questioning look but nods, and waves at Haerin as she enters.

“Oh, Y/N,” Haerin blinks in surprise, “I thought you weren’t going to show today. I heard you’d be busy. I’ve already called Minhee into work for today.” You pout, confused. Had you been taken from the schedule to bring him a stapler? Really? You just pull up your shoulders, and look at her, just as lost. “Maybe a mistake has been made. I’ll check.”

“I’ll go bring Mr. Byun his stapler in the meantime, then. If I don’t return, assume I’m busy. Or dead.” The girls giggle when you walk past the reception to make it over to the elevators again. The journey up goes peacefully, and a lot quicker. You exit into the hall, in front of the pretty white door with, you guessed it, gold handles. Was it really necessary to get you to bring him a stapler?  Still, you knock, and wait patiently for the door to open. It does, quicker than you imagined it would. In front of you stands a half dressed Byun Baekhyun, chest still bare and his hair still damp and sticking in wild directions. He takes a step back, to let you in.

“Ah, the stapler. Great. You’re quick.” He doesn’t wait up for you to follow behind, and leads you into the huge place. Top floor might be gigantic compared to this, but you might even prefer it. It’s a two story, for one. Dark steel beams hold up the second floor and make up the staircase, giving it a classy but industrial feel. Still, there’s chandeliers left and right, glamming up the room. You spot the rose-gold sink, and swallow. Right. Rich. You hand him the stapler after catching up with his steps, not daring to look over at him yet. Baekhyun just smiles as a thank you, and picks up the bundle of papers from the dinner table in front of him, entirely out of glass except for the dark steel frame. He makes it a point to staple the bundle in your view, and nods. “Perfect, it was missing just that.”

He hands you the staple back, before moving through a door to your right, as you follow behind blankly. That was why he needed a stapler so damn bad? For a single bundle of paper. Baekhyun soon returns, after having put on a white button-up, a lot more casual than you’ve seen him up till now. He adjusts his watch once, before beaming down at you like he’s a kid on Christmas morning. “I didn’t expect you to come so quick, but that’s okay. We can grab breakfast, and then go on with the day after. I have a meeting at 5 but should be able to make it for dinner.” You blink. Breakfast, dinner? Your face must give off the clear confusion you feel, because Baekhyun pauses. “I need to get a present for a friend, a surprise. And since you were so helpful on Wednesday, I thought you’d make a great model for my shopping spree.”

“Oh.” Is all that comes out of your mouth, as you watch Baekhyun dig through a drawer full of car keys, picking one out and tossing it to you. He smiles when you catch it, and pauses in front of you, giving you a one over.

“You’re going to get blisters walking in those all day.” He motions his chin to your shoes, and turns around to make a thinking noise. “Follow me, pretty please.” He leads you past the kitchen and past the stairs, to another room. It’s a giant walk in closet, which makes your mouth drop open. He walks to the far side, and presses a button to have the shoes rotate and disappear, making place for new ones. “Here. I get a lot of presents from companies, and get a surprising amount of female clothes and shoes each year. You can pick some you like.” You make a noise of disagreement, but Baekhyun grins. “To wear. Today. Just today. Don’t get all worked up.” He moves to leave the room and tuts his lips. “You’ll get wrinkles on your pretty, little face like that.”

You decide to just do as he says and pick a pair of shoes to wear, settling on some gorgeous black ankle boots with a slight wedge. When you walk out, Baekhyun looks up. His eyes rake over you in silence, long enough to have goosebumps break out on your skin. When he looks away, he nods, and gets up from the couch. “You look pretty.” He motions you to follow then, and leads the way. You just know that if he keeps acting this way, you’ll have to quit. You can’t fall in love with your boss, and knowing you that is definitely going to happen if Baekhyun keeps this up. The damn man is too charming for his own good, and he knows it. You follow behind the handsome man begrudgingly, not forgetting to leave the stapler on the kitchen counter as you leave. Stupid stapler.

Turns out, you’ve never been in a Ferrari before. Also turns out, Baekhyun drives really fast, and by the time you get out you must look like a threatened cat. He parks along the side of the road, because why worry about your car being stolen when you can just buy another the next day, right? He walks over to open the car door for you and holds out his hand, that you ignore out of shock and maybe a little because of the car ride. He smiles though, and points towards a petite shop, that looks very expensive even from the outside. You follow him, ignoring the potent stares of the people that pass by, and thank him as he holds the door for you.

Baekhyun tosses his jacket over one of the tables, effectively claiming it, and walks toward the counter. “This is my favorite breakfast place.” He nods, glancing over his shoulder to watch you. You hum and take in all the delicious pastries that are laid out in the display in the shape of a heart. Baekhyun straightens, and looks outside a second. “What looks best to you? I can’t choose.” Everything looks good, you can’t blame him. You do notice that there’s no prices anywhere to be found, which always means it’s overpriced. Still, you hum.

“That right there, with cherries looks so good.” You nod, and look over at him. “And the chocolate truffle thingie.”

Baekhyun nods and smiles, before turning to the lady behind the counter. She has a bright smile on her pink lips, black hair pulled back in a tight pony. “Good morning, Mag.” He drums his fingers on the glass display. “I’d like the usual, and the cherry pie and chocolate truffle cone for the lady.” You turn to stare at him with wide eyes. This little… Before you can intervene, he takes your hand and pulls you to the table he so elegantly claimed. You’re put in the chair, and watch as Baekhyun slides in opposite you, a proud grin on his lips. You have never… met a man this extra.

The woman comes to place your plates in front of you quickly, as you thank her profusely. You keep a glare on your face at Baekhyun though, as he takes a bite of his chocolate chip muffin. When he sees it, he smiles. “Look, I ordered it now. Will you please just eat the damn thing, or are you going to let it get thrown away?” The woman returns with the last place, which just has strawberries, a light pink instead of red. You follow her with your eyes a second. Yup, this place definitely is way out of your budget. “Y/N.” Baekhyun mumbles, as on cue, “It’s my treat. Now please, stuff something in your mouth so that I don’t feel like a huge asshole.”

You sigh, but pick up the little fork, and eat a bit of the cherry pie. You can’t stand the idea of food being thrown away. When you chew, you’re very glad at your decision. It’s seriously heavenly, and you almost moan at how good it is. Baekhyun smiles in accomplishment when you eat too, before putting one of the strawberries on your plate. “Taste one of these too.” He motions, as he picks up his coffee. “They are my favorite.” You kind of don’t want to give in to all of this. Of course, you can’t help your curiosity, and pick up the baby pink strawberry. You pout, a full on puppy eyes-pout.

“It tastes like money.”You mumble sadly, looking at your shoes. This sends Baekhyun into a laughing fit.

From the moment you enter the shopping mall, you feel out of place. Everyone here is dressed to the nines, and while your work wear is far from cheap, you feel silly in your name tag. Baekhyun doesn’t seem to notice, leading you around the place like he’s ready to visit every shop and actually buy things. You sigh. You suppose this should be fun, but it just gives you stress. The bill for breakfast was fifty thousand won, and you now feel a strong need to pay Baekhyun back. He doesn’t need it, but you do. For your sanity.

Baekhyun enters a jewelry shop then, dragging you along. He’s too giddy about this. “Who is this friend of yours?” You instead mumble, and look around the shop, careful not to touch anything.

Baekhyun is looking into a glass confinement with shimmery eyes. “She’s been a good friend ever since I first started. She’s getting engaged so I want to get her the best gift she can have.”

“The most expensive gift.” You blurt, looking around the shop.

Baekhyun turns, frowning slightly. “Not necessarily.” Your cheeks get warm when he sends you a little look, one you can’t immediately decipher. “These products are so expensive because they are made from great materials, by great artisans. Which is why I don’t care how expensive it is. I want the best for the people I care about. I like spoiling people, I guess.” He walks over to the counter and says something to the person behind it, before turning back to you. “Is that a bad thing?”

You don’t answer, though you feel like shaking your head. Instead though, you come to stand next to him. You wring your hands together in front of your lap. “Is it true?” Baekhyun just stares. “That you pay the company lunches from your own account?”

“Yes.” Baekhyun just nods, as if it’s the most normal thing in the world. “I wouldn’t be anywhere without the people who maintain my company. Treating them is important.” You pout, and look away. So he is that sickly rich. “Why do you look so shocked?” He thanks the man when he returns with more necklaces, and turns to you instead. “You do know I make billions every year, right, Y/N?” You don’t. Well, you suspected it, but hearing it come from his lips is something else entirely. Baekhyun seems so normal. He seems like a normal, kind, if somewhat annoying person. He matches entirely to the image you had of him, and not at all at the same time. You don’t know how to feel about that either. Baekhyun, seeming to know you won’t answer, sighs, and taps your arm gently. “Here, I need a female opinion. Pick one.” At your glare, he smiles, and holds his hands in front of him like a shield. “I won’t buy it for you like I did last time, I promise. It’s really for my friend.”

You sigh, and turn to the necklaces, checking each one carefully. If this is what he took you out to do, you were going to do it to the best of your ability. Your eyes land on a dainty little necklace with a single diamond in the middle, and from that, two that would fall down the chest. It’s a gorgeous piece of jewelry. “That one.” You point, glancing over at Baekhyun again. He stands pressed next to you, his eyes on your face. You tuck your hair behind your ear when you notice, and look at the floor. “That one would look really pretty on any girl.” Baekhyun hums, and picks it up gently, holding it between his slim fingers. He takes a step towards you again, and nods.

“Brush your hair back for me.” The whisper makes you stare up at him with big eyes. You look at his shoulders instead when he smiles, and brush your hair from your neck. His arms go around carefully, leaning into you so close you can not only smell his shampoo, but also feel his breath dust over your shoulder. He flattens your hair out a little, and takes a step back. All the while his eyes are on yours. He pauses, and then nods. “You were right. It does look really pretty.” When he takes the necklace back off, you hold your breath, heart beating against your rib cage steadily. A small curl comes to the corner of his lip when you squeak softly at the coldness of his hands.

He places the necklace back, and nods at the man. “We’ll take this one. Please package it well, it’s for a gift.”

When you two leave the store, Baekhyun taps your arm. “Here.” He pushes a small pink box into your hands, different from the black packaging the present had. “This one is for you.” You open it carefully. Inside, is a thin golden necklace, with in the middle of it a tiny little glass-like shape. A diamond bird. You look up at Baekhyun, who is a few steps in front of you now, and swallow. You can’t accept this, can you? “It’s a reminder that you can get over your fear of heights.” Baekhyun explains, his hands in his jacket pocket. “Everyone can become someone they dream of being, you know. I didn’t start with all this money either, after all.”

“Baekhyun, I-”

“I thought it was Mr. Byun to you.” He smiles, before looking around the huge mall, and then back at you. “Please just take it? It’s a present, okay? And more than that, it’s a request. I’ll drop you off in a bit, because I don’t want to hog you all day. But I am taking you to dinner tonight.” Baekhyun smiles when your mouth drops open. “If you say no, I’m not going to fire you, don’t worry.” He shrugs, and sends you another blinding grin. “If you say yes, it’s a date.”

I cut it here because super rich!Baekhyun made me go a little off track and make a huge ass fic, so there will be a part two to this. I hope you enjoyed the first part, at the very least.

Nick Palmer knew he was an asshole. 

It was your fault, you made it easy to find forgiveness without asking for it, but after several days of silence and ignored texts and calls he found himself in front of the apartment you shared with your best friend. He heaved a sigh and glanced at the bag of food from your favorite breakfast place and then at your favorite flowers bundled together in his other hand. Wildflowers, a riot of colors and what he had called random average flowers.

“The world is full of random colorful people Nick, what’s wrong with that? I enjoy random colorful people… they make life fun.”

Your words had made him think differently and he remembered why he had originally asked you out. He hit the doorbell, you deserved the best, not what he had been giving you, and if you had cheated on him once was okay, not like what he had done.

But he was here to change that, he was here to ask for forgiveness and forget what probably happened between you and your boss. Not that you should be forgiven, he could probably make you ask for forgiveness after talking you into seeing reason. 

***

The doorbell woke you, last night was a blur, and when you found Steve in the kitchen cooking, a stack of pancakes already sitting on the tabletop you didn’t question it. Just mumbled a morning as you shuffled past him to answer the buzzing. Your head was already pounding, but the smell of bacon and more than likely eggs, made you hurry to answer and hopefully closer to what smelled like coffee.

Probably a package for Roman.

Opening the door you realized it most definitely was not a package for Roman.

***

Bucky grinned as Roman leaned against the wall opposite him in the elevator. He hadn’t thought the tall lean blond would actually go home with him. Said tall lean blond had his eyes closed upper back pressed against the wall, hands shoved into his pockets, hips canted forward and didn’t see him inching closer.

The little gasp that escaped him as Bucky’s large hands fell on his waist was loud even to Roman, he couldn’t help laughing and squirming as lips fell on the corner of his mouth.

“You’re so cute you know that?”

“I smell, club stink and all night romping don’t make a good mix,” Roman growled hands on the broad chest in front of him.

Bucky scoffed, “you showered and borrowed my toothbrush,” he leaned back, keeping their lower bodies pressed firmly together, grinning as a furious blush colored his cheeks. “You look good in my clothes, you should sleep over more often. I can even empty a drawer for you.”

Roman looked at him, green meeting blue, mouth working to spill something, but nothing came out. The elevator doors dinged, opening and words filled the air saving him.

Both he and Bucky hurrying off as you screamed.

***

Nick stared at you and you could feel panic slowly setting in, if he realized Steve was there… “Nick!” you shouted suddenly, “what are you doing here?!” again loudly hoping Steve got the hint as you pulled the door shut only allowing yourself to be seen.

He grinned at you, “I brought you your favorite breakfast from that place you like? And your favorite flowers too…” You blinked as he held the bundle of wildflowers out towards you, “babe, you gonna let me in? You should probably get some bottoms on unless you want the neighbors seeing you in only your… er, anime shirt?”

You felt Steve come up behind you, closing your eyes before Nick could react as he dropped his chin onto your shoulder.

“Oh, hey there buddy,” Steve drawled, you could hear the smugness in his voice. “Y/N, sunny side up right? Finish up here, otherwise breakfast is gonna get cold alright?”

You jumped as you felt his lips on your exposed shoulder, quickly reaching up and fixing it before throwing a scalding look over said shoulder at him. What had gone on last night? There was no way, no matter how hungover you were, that you would forget sex with Steve!!!

“REALLY?! THAT DIDN’T TAKE LONG!!” Nick brushed past you, shoving the bag and flowers into your chest, whether you caught them he didn’t care.

“What are you going to do about it?” Steve asked grinning as Nick barged in.

“NICK!!!” you screamed as he caught the front of Steve’s shirt, pulling his arm back. 

It was at that moment that the elevator doors slid open and both Bucky and Roman rushed towards the open door of the apartment.

You threw yourself forwards, Steve was in the middle of shooting a very important photo op, one that had been squeezed in to his schedule and he was one of the top paid actors of Hollywood, he couldn’t afford to get a bruise on his face. 

Steve shouted as you caught onto Nicks arm, the three of you scuttling around comically for a moment. Roman and Bucky crashing in through the door as Nick shoved Steve hard, sending him crashing into the kitchen counter, tugging his arm free from you sending you sprawling onto the floor and moving in quick. You screamed, scrambling forwards and catching his leg, in his anger he kicked hard, freeing himself from you when the air rushed out of your lungs as his booted foot connected with your ribs.

Nick froze, “Shit-” everyone stopped at his uttered word, all eyes on you. 

You managed to suck in a small wheezing breath, then everything was moving quickly. 

Steve lunged forwards, fist connecting with Nick’s jaw, as Bucky rushed forwards to catch Nick by the back of his collar jerking him back, which added to Steve’s fist threw him off his feet and sent him sliding across the floor towards the door. 

Roman, had dove for you, flinching as Nick kicked him, boot meeting his face briefly yet solidly, he curled around you to keep you from getting kicked by the several pairs of feet stomping inches away. He heard you suck in another breath, “Y/N, you with me?” You nodded as the three continued scuffling and then you heard a body hit the ground hard. Tears tracked down your face from the pain in your side, but you ducked as you saw a body backing towards you. Roman grunted as a heel connected hard with his spine, Bucky cried out in surprise and went down hard, legs sprawled over both you and Roman, instantly crawling off you two, “Hey! Alright?” he asked breathing hard. 

“Yeah!” both of you answered in unison.

“Right, stay here,” he was up before either of you could say anything more.

Steve ducked as Nick swung, Bucky pushed past Steve, brung up his leg, knee connecting solidly with Nick’s midsection. The man flew out of the apartment door, crashing into the wall opposite the door and struggling to stay on his feet, hands out, “a’right! ALRIGHT!” he cried sucking in air. “She’s not worth it…”

Bucky caught Steve and shut the door with a kick and shoved him away, “Alright Balboa-” all four of you jumped as the fire alarm went off. “What the fuck?”

Steve hurried towards the kitchen, “eggs!” he yelled.

***

“It was all- it just happened all too fast Roman!” your side hurt, you had tried to not cry. Especially being wrapped up in Roman’s arms. There was always something about not wanting to cry and then someone shows you a bit of kindness and you turned into a blubbering mess.

Now sitting on the edge of your bed, Roman in the room with you, you had managed to control yourself. He had allowed you to clean the cut on his cheek, face scrunching up as you applied a small butterfly bandage. “I didn’t, I mean we didn’t- last night. He didn’t even let me explain!”

Roman scoffed, “fuck that guy Y/N!” he nodded his head, mouth dropping open as you sighed, “FUUUUuuuuuuUUCk that guy!” 

You dropped back onto the bed, “I know!” 

The knock at your door made you prop yourself up as the door cracked open. Bucky hissed as he entered, looking at Roman with a grimace. You watched with a smile as Buck moved towards Roman, “fuck, you okay? That looks bad.” He reached up, cupping Roman’s jaw in hand, thumb brushing over his cheek just under the bruise already forming around the bandage.

Roman grinned, “Y/N, cleaned it already, its okay really. Looks worse than it is.

“Are you okay?” Bucky asked, concern evident as he looked to you quickly. 

You nodded, “I’m sorry, about Nick. I don’t know what? I didn’t even know he would come over. I’m really confused.”

“Don’t apologize, probably Steve’s fault anyhow.”

You jolted, both men surprised as you practically jumped from the bed and hurried out. Blue eyes met yours as he leaned against the back of your couch, guilt etched completely across his face. “God, your okay?!”

Steve frowned, “I’m okay? I’M OKAY?! Your worried if I’m okay when that fucking guy-” Steve stopped as you took a step back from his rising voice. He heaved a sigh and ran his hands over his face. “Y/N,” he stopped as both Bucky and Roman stepped out. He stepped towards you and pulled you into his arms, “you’re an idiot.” You stood for a second, inhaling his cologne, eyes watering as your slowly reached up, burying your face in his chest. “Please don’t ever throw yourself into a fight like that okay?” “SHE. DID. WHAT?!” Roman asked dropping his face into his palm soundly, “of-fucking-course she would. No wonder we found her on the ground.”

“Your face!” you managed from you position in Steve’s arms.

“Woman, I have had bruises from fights before, that’s what the makeup department is for!”

Bucky nodded, “there was this one time he drank so much he keeled over face first into the concrete floor and then got up like nothing had happened. We didn’t know what the fuck? So we kept drinking and the next morning half his face was swollen!”

You jerked back looking at Steve in horror, “you will never do that so long as I am around!”

Roman burst into laughter, “I can already see her launching herself to cushion his fall!! We need to get her a cape!”

You growled pouting up at him and pinched Steve, he yelped letting you go and you hurried back into your room. Steve swallowed his laughter, “guys?”

Roman pulled Bucky towards him, looking at your bedroom door slyly, “I need you to check my back?”

You let out a little sigh as Steve closed the door behind him. “I shouldn’t have-”

He held up a hand, “no, you should have. Its okay to feel whatever you’re feeling. Its confusing, I wanted to apologize. I shouldn’t have done that, I didn’t expect you to jump in like that.” He frowned looking away from you. “Honestly you and Roman ended up with all the bruises!!”

You laughed and choked dropping your face to the bed as your side ached. “It’s okay, that you did that, I really don’t know what I would’ve done if I had been by myself, probably taken him back,” you muttered perching on your bed once again. 

“Can I look?” he asked motioning to your side. You nodded, thankful you had managed to get sweats on. When you had changed out of your club clothes you weren’t sure. You jumped as you felt Steve’s fingers graze along your ribs. “Looks like it’s gonna bruise.”

“It’s okay, I used to play tackle football and softball back in college. So, I’m not new to bruises… Steve?”

“Hmm?”

“Did you...uhh-undress me?”

Steve blushed, “I-” he cleared his throat. “I kept my eyes closed, but you kept saying it was too hot, and started stripping down so I threw on the first shirt I found-”

You were going to die. This was it, you would die of shame. 

“But,” you looked at him hesitantly, surprised at how close he was, “you told me very confidently that you were going to kiss me.” 

“I-I what?!”

Steve ran his thumb over your cheek, feeling the heat radiating off you. “You owe me a kiss.”

*****

****As always, not necessary but comments/reblogs are totes appreciated!!!

Perma tags: @thegreatirene @mo320 @magellan-88 @lostinspace33 @dustycelt @yknott81 @alyssaj23 @swtwtrgin @whenallsaidanddone @s7sense @learisa @roselock20 @everybodycriesonce @pegasusdragontiger @suz-123 @lostinthoughtsandfeelings @feelmyroarrrr @badassbaker @supernatural-girl97 @honey-bee-holly @the-real-kellymonster @sarahp879 @mummy-woves-you @thisismysecrethappyplace @georgiagrl1990 @alexaduke @tilltheendwilliwrite @redqueen1221 @biawol @breezy1415 @5aftermidnight @amoonagedaydreamer @nerdy-bookworm-1998 @impalaimages @sarcasmoverlordxo @kanupps06 @hellaqueerangelofthelord @mcdesij @california-grown @henrietteoaks @moonstar86 @nerdypinupcrystal

The assistant tags: @chook007  @jenpalmer @beautifulmisconception @yallneedtrek @leabarnesxx @partiallyinthecloset @2s0uls @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog @biawol