Coffee Stained Armani Suit
Fashion can be a killer of an industry and when a young personal assistant finds herself being promoted to the new Head Secretary position for the CEO of one of Korea’s premium and top selling fashion magazines, she finds out just how stressful fashion can really be.
pairing; Yoongi x female reader
genre: Fashion, modern era
Warnings: fluff, angst, I know nothing about working in an office except what I’ve seen in dramas lol, occasional course language, a lot of office grunt work
Word count:3100
A/n: Hehe, it’s been a while since I wrote for this story but a passing fancy reminded me that this chapter was almost finished. So I figured I’d go ahead and edit it up and pass it off to the ether. Enjoy!~~
<<Chapter 2
Thankfully the rest of my week turned out to be a lot calmer than I could have hoped for. The conversation in the stairwell was never brought up again and Mr. Min somehow became just a little bit more pleasant. Of course, the workload didn’t ease up much. But when documents or reports were turned in a bit past their deadline he didn’t make a fuss about it. Just accepted it and told me to push on with his next set of orders.
By the time Friday rolled around, I felt much more relaxed, though pretty damn ready to enjoy my weekend off.
Lunchtime found me with my usual group. Seokjin and Jungkook and I sat together in the breakroom enjoying another of Jin’s fabulously cooked meals.
“Did you know that Youngmin in accounts and management had 4 dogs?” Jungkook spoke through his mouth full of food, causing Jin to chastise him for speaking with his mouth full.
He paused in his gossip to chew and swallow before continuing. “I saw him walking his dogs the other day and about lost it over how cute they are!”
On and on they chattered while I smiled along, enjoying my meal and inserting opinions and comments where appropriate.
As we finished up and cleaned up our mess Yoongi walked into the breakroom, silencing any chatter that had been going on. A heavy weight fell over each of us, unsure as to what it was he could want or which of us he could possibly have been there for. His eyes darted here and there before landing on me with quite an intense gaze.
“Miss l/n, I need you in my office.” Without another word to anyone else he left, leaving us all in a state of mild shock. It was very rare, if ever that Yoongi interrupted my lunches and his sudden appearance confused me to no end.
“I’ll catch up with you boys later.” I muttered, grabbing the remainder of my lunch with a few hastily thrown apologies and darting out the door after Yoongi.
“Sir?”
“Miami fashion week starts this coming Monday.”
I made my way over to the chair in front of his desk, watching as he sorted through his paperwork and attended to a few emails on his computer.
“I’m aware. Taehyu...ah Mr. Kim is sending a few reporters over along with several of our top photographers. Was there something missing in his report on the topic?” I leaned forward, pulling up the information on the tablet I used for notes.
“No. Not particularly. But I was invited to be a key speaker for the benefits gala. Which means I’ll have to attend the entirety of the experience.”
“Ah, I see. I’ll get to booking your flight details and hotel accommodations.”
“No need. They’ve already taken care of it.” He paused in his work, reaching forward on his desk to pick up an envelope and tossing it in my direction.
I stood, taking the envelope and pulling out what looked to be two plane tickets along with the information on two hotel rooms booked side by side in one of the most luxurious-sounding resorts I’d ever heard of.
“Sir?” I looked up at him questioningly, tickets still in hand.
“I can’t very well go without my head secretary now can I?”
His words didn’t register in my mind for a moment as I just stood and gawked at him. “Sir I…”
“I’ve already taken care of all of the arrangements. You’re to accompany me to the gala as my plus one, along with anything else I’m required to attend. Outside of that, consider it a minor vacation from the stress of office work.”
He smiled as the look of shock on my face slowly morphed into one of awe and dare I say, hope?
“But Sir, I...I’d stand out. I’m not high fashion. Aren’t the people required to attend almost obligated to be good-looking and have expensive clothing?”
A quirked eyebrow was his only response for a moment as he leaned back in his chair and crossed one leg over the other. Steepling his fingertips before him he looked me up and down. “Where’s the confident assistant that’s been manhandling my entire staff into complying with her every demand?”
I opened my mouth to reply but he cut me off, “Where’s the secretary that knows what I need before I even have the time to complete a thought? The confident woman that, despite everything being stacked up against her has always pulled through and ended up on top no matter what life throws at her?”
A fierce heat rose in my cheeks as my hands gripped the envelope in my hands. “I…”
“What you wear has no bearing on your position in my company. And if it’s that much of an issue…”
He stood from his chair, pushing the papers he’d been looking at into a messy pile and grabbing his wallet and keys. “Get your things.”
“Mr. Min?”
“Grab your purse, wallet, or bag. Whatever it is, go and get your things and meet me out in the lobby.”
His tone left no room for questioning as he marched out the door and I had no choice really but to comply.
It was my job after all...
***
“Mr.Min?” I stared wide at the store before me, mouth agape at what I knew the frosted glass windows held within.
It was bad enough that I’d been made to ride in the back seat of his fancy chauffeured car on the drive over here. Sitting side by side in tense silence with the man who signed my checks was one thing sure… But to think that my boss intended me to walk into such a high-end store with him?
Impossible.
Absolutely not.
“Let’s go Ms. l/n. We don’t have all day.”
Yoongi moved smoothly past me, nodding to the fancy doorman that held the massive door open for him. He paused at the entrance though, turning to give me a questioning look as I hastily wiped the expression of shock and confusion off my face.
“Well?”
“Ah, right…” I rushed forward, ducking my head as I clutched my purse close to my chest in case anyone within 30 feet of me decided to notice its lack of value and kicked me out of the store for not being classy enough.
“But Sir, why are we even here? I mean, there’s no way I can even afford to look at any of these clothes, let alone be anywhere near it. I….I might taint it with my poorness or something.”
Yoongi snorted, turning his head away from me so I couldn’t see the glitter of mirth in his eyes. “We’re here to get me a new suit. And you...something better than what you’ve got on right now.”
“I...wait what?” I shook my head, hoping the motion would clear the fluff out of my head as I tried to register what he’d said.
“You heard me. I can’t have my secretary represent me at one of the most prestigious fashion moments of the year wearing Walmart knockoff suits and shoes.”
I sputtered, almost choking on my spit. He had to have read my mind about my purse...or something. I mean how could he know??
“You’re wondering how I know about your wardrobe?” he glanced at me out of the corner of his eyes as he followed a well-dressed employee of the store toward the men’s suit section.
I nodded, hoping that if I stayed a few steps behind him the lady leading the way wouldn’t notice the shabbiness of my...well of me.
“I’ve been keeping my eye on you for some time l/n. You’re one of the most hard-working women I’ve come across in a very long time. That being said, as damn near the head of the Korean fashion industry I have to know where every article of clothing being made right now comes from. And that, my dear, is very cheaply made American wear.”
The heat on my face could have fried an entire ostrich egg omelet.
“You really didn’t have to call me out like that…” I mumbled to myself. Luckily for me, Mr. Min was too busy telling the retail woman that he was here to pick up a suit he’d ordered to have noticed me muttering complaints under my breath...or so I hoped anyway.
“And my assistant is going to need a few new outfits. Formal wear, a few comfort outfits, and four new suits to wear for the office.”
Before I could even register the list he’d just spewed off, let alone protest against it, the woman was leading me off to the opposite side of the store.
Standing in a line by the dressing rooms were three women, each dressed in the same slim-cut black dress as the woman who had my arm.
“These are our consultants. They’ll be helping me choose the right fit and cut for your style.”
I shook my head, too at a loss for words to even reply to the woman. I glanced back across the store, hoping to catch Mr. Min’s attention or maybe even find a way to sneak my way out of the situation.
To my relief he’d already approved the suit he would be purchasing and was walking back in my direction.
“Mr. Min...I…”
“Well? Get to it.”
In the time I’d taken to try and plan out a route of escape the four women had already prepared several outfits. They moved quickly, dragging me towards one of the dressing room stalls.
“Wait!” I huffed, pulling my arm out of the head consultant’s grip. “Please, Mr. Min. I can’t do this.”
Yoongi frowned down at his cufflinks, adjusting them and buttoning them up before continuing to frown as his eyes trailed up to meet mine.
“Can’t? Or won’t?” He tilted his head slightly, eyes filled with challenge. “And here I thought you were the best in your field.”
I don’t know what it was about the way he spoke those words but something in me shifted. Almost as if I was rising to the challenge I straightened my spine before turning haughtily and marching my way into the dressing room area, the four women tittering as they followed close behind.
Now, hear me out. It’s every girl’s dream to walk into a high-end clothing store and put on a fashion show right? Being in the fashion industry that’s just one of those secret fantasies I’ve sort of kept locked away over the years. And with my ability to go behind the scenes of actual shows I’ve even accumulated some skills, though they’ve never seen more than the light of the inside of my crappy ass apartment.
That being said, having to parade myself in front of my boss was something I never thought I’d have to experience
“Sir? A long-sleeved double-breasted blazer. Form-fitting and high fashion, this one-piece suit dress is perfect for any occasion!”
I stepped from the dressing room as the sales assistant guided me. I couldn’t help smoothing my hands over the silky fabric, hoping that it flattered my curves a little bit more than the strangely warped image I’d spotted in the mirror let on.
I kept my eyes on the ground, walking slowly to stand before Mr. Min who’d been given a comfortable chair in order to observe my outfits and approve and disapprove of anything he deemed fit to suit me.
“Hmm…” His quiet hum caught my attention, a flame of heat forming on my cheeks as I finally dared to look up at him.
His eyes held a critical stare, darting up and down my form as if he was judging a prized pumpkin at a harvest festival.
“Well?” I could barely keep the nerves out of my voice as I prompted him for a reaction.
My heart dropped when he shook his head, waving his hand in dismissal. At the outfit or at me, I wasn’t sure. But it still stung nonetheless.
We continued on like this for a bit. Trying on outfit after outfit from suits worth more than my entire apartment building to dresses and outfits that cost so much I had to stop looking at the price tags just to save myself from the ever-impending heart attack I’d felt coming on the moment we walked in here.
The longer it went on the worse the knot of dread in my chest felt, until finally, something snapped in me.
If I was going to do this….if I was going to indulge my boss in having me paraded around like some top-tiered supermodel then damn it I was going to work it!
The next outfit I walked out in had me feeling my Wheaties. I stood tall, shoulders thrown back with confidence and my chin held high as I glared down at Mr. Min with a small amount of distaste though, in all honesty, I was just pretending.
I could tell the look had an effect on him because when he bothered to finally look up from the email he’d been answering on his phone his jaw dropped slightly and his eyes widened. He quickly shook his head to bring himself back to the disinterested look he’d been giving me before but it was there long enough for me to know that this confidence was what he’d been looking for.
And so I continued on, modeling several more outfits and getting more and more into the high-paid modeling mindset. I posed, I strutted, I vogued. I worked that little runway like it was my bitch and damn if it didn’t feel good. Years of repressing my confidence were thrown to the wayside for the simple fact that Yoongi stared me down with something akin to a primal hunger filling his features that I don’t think even he was aware of.
And there was some small part of me that shivered in anticipation of that look. Here was a man known for his disinterest in personal relationships. A single-minded drive to grow his business and get ahead in the fashion world WAS his personality. And here he was staring me down in a simple low-cut neckline ballgown number in ocean blue like I was the only thing he’d ever wanted in his entire life.
With a twitch of a sultry smile and an upturn of my nose, I made my way back to the dressing room, confidence boosted beyond the stars and a quiet glow of appreciation for him growing in my chest. It was the final outfit and the subtle growl he’d thrown my way had a shy part of my heart squealing with joy.
“I can’t believe some low-end pleb from the streets caught the eye of THE Min Yoongi.”
“I know right? I bet you she’s just a charity case.”
“Did you see the way she basically threw herself at him in those outfits?”
“Ugh, low-class pigs should really learn to stay in their place.”
The venom dripping in those voices outside my dressing room stung, I’m not gonna lie. I paused in undressing, the once-adored dress still clutched to my chest as I leaned against the dressing room wall and sucked in a pained breath.
The twin voices tittered with mirth as their voices faded into the distance but the pain of being judged lingered.
I know… trust me I am well fucking aware that I’m not worthy of his attention. Aware that had I not been working for him he would never have spared me a second glance. But this trip had never even been about that. I was here for my job. Not for him…
Right?
“Miss l/n?” The deep timber of Yoongi’s voice startled me and I sucked in a breath, hastily wiping at the tears streaming down my cheeks. “Is everything alright?”
“It’s fine. The...the zipper got stuck for a second is all.” I tried to force some cheer into my voice despite the hitched sob I struggled to suppress.
There was nothing but silence from the other side of the door for a moment before a low hum of acknowledgment sounded. I listened for a moment to his retreating steps before pushing away from the wall and shooting myself one last glance in the mirror.
I’m here for my job only. Whatever high fashion fantasy I had swirling around in my head ends here. No matter how much the fact that he’d come to check on me made my heart flutter in my chest like a million butterflies taking flight.
I’m here for my job...that’s all.
***
I was over it. After hearing such disgusting and ill-intended words thrown at me with zero context I couldn’t help but allow my self-loathing to show on my face. But Mr. Min never said anything. After leaving the dressing room with my normal work outfit on, Yoongi took the hint and ended the impromptu shopping trip.
I stood off to the side as he paid, not paying much attention to anything around me. The clerk handed Mr. Min the receipt, which he promptly tossed in the trash without even half a thought to glance at its contents.
“W...but Mr.Min you could write that off as a business expense!” I shuffled forward, making as if to reach for the paper but my hand was caught in his grip. Long slender fingers curled around my hand, pulling me upright as he tugged me closer.
“We’re off the clock Ms. y/n...It’s Yoongi...please?”
The way he questioned me had me sucking in about 8 lungfuls of air, begging the cosmos that this wasn’t a dream, that this might actually be real, and that the soft look in his eyes was actually meant for me.
The cloudy haze in my brain had just enough wit to nod to his question as his smirk drilled me in place.
“Good girl.” His voice rumbled, just barely loud enough to be heard by the women gathered at the register.
Forget my fogged brain, I was jello. Cotton candy in a rainstorm. A literal puddle at the feet of this man.
And he knew it. His eyes danced over my face and hunger filled them as he took in the heat rising in my cheeks. That evil smirk shifted to something far more carnal at the squeak that dared dart past my lips and betray me.
Yeah no. I am in no way shape or form surviving this weekend. Not…one…bit.
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