Assistant fem!reader x boss!Yesung
Synopsis: Here are some headcanons about what Yesung would be like if he were your boss.
Warnings: This could be a big mess with the proper structure os a headcanons but I'll try to adjust to the style, fluff and grammar mistakes.
a/n: It's just a few ideas so as to show the way I make headcanons (?) only if you have curiosity and want to make a request 😅.
Yesung is the grumpy boss who can reprimand his staff with just one of his sharp glances. He is good with words, but a furrowed brow or the raising of one of his eyebrows is always enough to make himself understood. Some of the employees still fear crossing his path.
His deep gaze searched for you in every corner of the hallway leading to his office. You weren't sitting at your desk, and he hadn't seen you in the elevators either. He mentally noted the reprimand for not being at your workstation.
He waited a couple of minutes in front of the wooden desk, running his fingertips over the cover of the notebook where you wrote down everything he told you. That space smelled like you. He checked his wristwatch again and saw that five minutes had passed. You hadn't returned from wherever you were.
Another couple of minutes passed, and his annoyance quickly turned to concern. You never left your workstation without notice, and you never missed your activities without justifying your absence.
You were in his office, arranging the documents on his desk just the way he liked to find them. No smudges, no dog-eared corners, and each one sorted from most to least important. Everything was neat and properly aligned. You even picked up the folder that was on top of the rest and held it up to your lips to blow away a piece of lint that had fallen on it.
The door opened and you quickly turned to see who it was. Your lips were still pressed together in a pouty line while your fingers clutched the documents.
"So, you were here." Yesung opened his eyes wide when he heard the relief in his voice, an unusual tone when he spoke to you. He tightened his tie knot a little to get rid of his sudden nervousness and cleared his throat. "Are you planning on staying here all day? Get out of my office and get to work. And please, don't put your lips anywhere near the documents again or you might ruin them with your lipstick."
He chided himself for using a firmer tone than usual this time. Not seeing you anywhere all day had made him believe you might have quit, increasing his concern about finding you.
The rest of the day he spent strangely annoyed with you. He gave you cold looks but checked from time to time to make sure you were still there, at your desk, near him, where you always belonged.
He slams the folders down on your desk to make sure you pay attention to his demands.
The files are organized in a complicated way that only the two of you understand. At first it was strange, but then it turned out to be efficient for both of you.
The coffee god. There must always be coffee in the office machine, or you'll have to leave your desk to run and get some.
When attending company parties, he always isolates himself and tries to socialize as little as possible. If he doesn't get involved with the staff, there will be no need to engage in unnecessary conversations with any of them.
It was the end-of-year party and the stress of finishing your work had consumed you, so you decided to drink that day even though you knew you didn't have much tolerance for alcohol.
Two hours passed and you were already completely drunk. Your rosy cheeks, the weak smile dancing on your face, and the inability to keep your back straight betrayed the state you were in.
The first notes of the music reached you like an invitation to dance, so with the courage that only alcohol can provide, you jumped up, right in the middle of the tables, and began to perform a strange and provocative dance while a Christmas carol played in the background. Nothing there was more out of place than you.
Yesung heard the employees laughing; his attention shifted from the plate in front of him to the employees who were doubled over with laughter.
All it took was for your boss to pay attention to his surroundings for him to spot you making a terrible spectacle of yourself in front of all the staff present. Yesung closed his eyes and took a deep swig of the beer he hadn't dared to touch, then got up to dance next to you, making movements just as uncoordinated as yours.
It was the most ridiculous act ever seen in the company, and the story went down in history.
The next day, he began to treat you less formally.
He likes you to wear accessories. Bracelets, necklaces, and earrings—it doesn't matter; he always reacts positively when he sees you wearing them. He even gave you a watch that turned out to be the women's version of the one he always wore.
He doesn't usually eat during work, but when he sees that you don't have lunch either, it's time to make a reservation at a restaurant you like.
It was the third time that day that the boss had walked past your desk, nothing unusual about that, except that only ten minutes had passed since his previous walk.
"Do you need something?" you asked when you saw him looking over your desk. "Have you lost something?"
No, Yesung hadn't lost anything, nor did he notice that you were going to lunch. He glanced over your bag and didn't see the usual lunch box you used to carry with you. Once again, you had skipped lunch.
"Reserve a table for two where we always sit," he ordered, checking the time on his watch as if he had something important to do. He was quite good at acting. "I have a meeting and you're coming with me," he explained in response to the question you hadn't asked.
You knew his schedule, you were aware of his scheduled meetings, and you had no idea about this sudden meeting; in any case, your duty was to obey him and not question his decisions.
Mysteriously, the other person never showed up for the meeting and you ended up having lunch with him.
From time to time, you've heard him singing in his office, sometimes emotional ballads and other times alternative rock. You think he doesn't notice, but he knows you like his voice and does it on purpose.
He changes his outfit all the time. Rumor has it that no one has seen him wear the same outfit twice since he joined the company.
Overtime is prohibited. He likes to be alone at night, doing the work that employees couldn't finish or correcting the reports that you were supposed to review.
He doesn't let you leave until he's finished, because that's when he can watch you sitting in the corner of the office playing with something on the desk.
You could rest assured knowing that your coworkers had the benefit of saying 'no' to overtime, the only sacrifice you had to make was that you had to take it and spend it working side by side with the boss.
"It's late and I'm not doing anything at the office. Do you think I can go home now?" you complained, spinning slowly in your office wheeled chair.
"There's still work to be done. Check the spelling in this report."
Yesung handed you a leather folder containing a sheet of paper with his handwriting on it. You didn't understand why he always did that; it was always spell check and then having to transcribe it letter by letter on the computer.
You didn't understand why he refused to scan it and extract the text with some computer program, let alone why he wouldn't let you work at your desk with your computer equipment. No, you had to be by his side using his computer.
Your fingers furiously typed out every letter of the damn report, your lips articulating the words as your hands moved nimbly across the keys. For Yesung, it was quite a spectacle.
Seeing you so focused on the computer screen, reciting the words he had written, tapping your index finger lightly on your lips. That was the small privilege Yesung could afford.
During meetings, you sit next to him. It doesn't matter that the other assistants have to stand behind their bosses, if anyone suggests that you should stand up like everyone else, he gives them one of his now famous threatening looks and the subject will never be brought up again by that person.
He doesn't deny the hallway gossip in which he is the protagonist. He simply believes that time will put everyone in their place and will patiently wait for the perfect moment to mock those who spread it.
Two weeks had passed since the rumor that you were dating your boss had spread throughout every corner of the company building. Even the maintenance department was aware of it.
You fought back, denying the facts, trying to prove that the rumors were unfounded and that every word was a horrible, poorly crafted lie. But it was the talk of the entire building, and it didn't seem like your coworkers wanted to forget about it.
It was just a matter of everyone connecting the dots. The same wristwatch, the sudden trips to restaurants, the consistency with which he asked the receptionists about you every time you left to run an errand, and, above all, the night of the strange Christmas dance.
The facts were laid out, and at some point you had allowed yourself to doubt the nature of your relationship with Yesung. Although you were sure that your relationship had always been professional, your boss's small acts of courtesy and attention now seemed to you to be sufficient reason to doubt his intentions.
"Why don't you deny the rumors?" you asked him on one occasion when you went to fill the coffee bean container.
"Rumors are just rumors, and as long as they don't interfere with my work, I don't pay any attention to them," he replied calmly, as if his name were not being linked to yours in hallway gossip.
"Do you like it when people say that we're having a secret romance in the office?"
Your words made his heart race, his grip on the pen tightened, and he even smudged the document he was signing. Finally, Yesung looked up from the documents and fixed his gaze on you.
His reading glasses, his hair neatly combed back to expose his forehead, and the expressionless gaze he directed at you—none of it matched the slight crimson hue that had settled on the tips of his ears. The self-control he had maintained until now was slipping away like water through his fingers.
"Do you want me to accept or deny the rumors?" he said, without taking his eyes off yours.
You swallowed hard. Suddenly, the huge office felt like a two-square-meter room with you in one corner and him in the other.
"Obviously deny it," you hesitated, despite wanting to sound confident. "We are not having any relationship outside of work."
"And if I told you I wanted to confirm the rumor, what would you do?" His voice was low, seductive. Controlled to attract and persuade.
The reality was that he didn't need to use any strategy to convince you that going out with him was a good idea. You had been aware of that for a long time and wanted it to be true.
Clinging to the little courage you managed to muster, you moved toward him and grabbed his tie, pulling it toward you to bring his face closer to yours. Yesung smiled slightly, a half-smile that made your legs go weak.
Not a second passed before your boss took you in a generous and passionate kiss, one that contained all the torturous moments in which he had restrained his emotions, putting the fulfillment of his work first.
He picks you up at home so you can arrive at the office together. He doesn't really care about entering the building while he hold your hand and intertwine his fingers with yours.
He smiles a little more now that you two are dating, and he has even started interacting with the staff at team dinners.
He doesn't care about the rumors, but now he stops to listen to what they say just to find out if everyone thinks you make a good couple or not.
A small reminder that requests are open, if you don't feel good sending messages in english, you cand send your request in spanish too (since I can work properly with that language).
If you only wanna fangirling or make any question my messages are open for you too
