🐈⬛~🎀 SUMMARY: The growing pressure of keeping your connection private blur the lines between your personal and professional lives. Wooyoung pulls away, influenced by the threatening messages from a mysterious sender. But as the risk of exposure deepened, so did your need for each other. In the end, that fear brought you back together — not just out of love, but out of survival.
🐈⬛~🎀 TAGS/WARNINGS: Roleplay ofc, Dom-Sub Roleplay ofc, Tension, Heavy Flirting, Jealousy, Manipulation, Explicit Sexual Content (Oral fixation, squirting, p in v penetration, cowgirl and doggy positions, use of strap, slapping, edging) Power Imbalance (CONSENSUAL), Work and personal stress.
🐈⬛~🎀 A/N: One more episode, dreamcatchers. No guaranteed date. No guaranteed time. Just now that adding/taking away what works efficiently for my vision is part of the process. Keep reading to find out what direction this story will be headed.
Previously on Whips, Chains, Pleasure and Pain...
As the team filters out of the room, you and Wooyoung linger behind, the buzz of conversation fading into the closing door.
He stays near you—close but not pressing—his posture looser than it had been in days. After a night of space and reflection, he'd come back with quieter words and a sincere apology. You’d offered him the comfort he didn’t ask for but needed.
“He’s not upset,” Wooyoung murmurs, almost to himself. “He’s just regrouping.”
You glance sideways at him, voice low. “So are we. But at least Broker’s off our leash now, hm?”
He half-smiles, maybe about to say more—something soft or teasing, something to finally close the rift.
Then ding—the sound of a notification cuts clean through the moment.
Wooyoung shifts, pulling his phone from his pocket casually… until he sees the screen.
No name.
Just a photo.
Blurry, grainy—but unmistakable. You. Him. Outside the garage elevator. Laughing. Too close. And another—last night, at the bar, parting ways under a streetlamp, your hands brushing as if they hadn’t just left the same war room.
A single message beneath it:
"Thought this might interest you."
Wooyoung doesn’t speak. His thumb hovers over the screen, jaw tight, brows low.
You watch his face change—alert, guarded, eerily still.
His slow-moving eyes flick up to meet yours.
And just like that…
everyone became a suspect.
(continued)
The text message hadn’t concerned you when you felt the appropriate need to walk away without a need for response. Although, as his lover— your eyes trailblaze Woooyoung's sudden body language— which looks like he was struck by lightning.
“Wooyoung?”
His jaw jitters as if he's trying to find the tongue in his mouth. Then, his feet slide back in offbeat rhythm— carrying the terror from the rest of his body upward.
“Wooyoung…what is it?” You stalk toward him, seemingly calm— even trying to offer a warm hand on his shivering shoulders, but his arm with his phone in hand flinches in reaction.
The tension you didn’t know you held in your brow softens in relaxation, and your jaw goes slack.
“Woo. What’s going on?” you harshly whisper, quickly turning back for any listening ears or entranced eyes. But not a soul holds guard around the two of you, and yet it feels like he’ll disappear into thin air from what’s ever spooking him. “Do we need to talk in my office?”
His face is deprived of blood flow upon hearing the additional question— revealing the veins and structured bone inside. A moment alone with you here wasn’t safe anymore.
“It’s just uh…” he snickers before clicking the power button promptly on his phone, “something I had gotten for us— erm, you I mean. But now's not the time for all that, right?”
He didn’t look all too enthused, which made you more wary than oblivious. Then, your heart sinks in your stomach as his eyes mirror yesterday and all the days before it.
The scandal with Yunho in the office…associating with the likes of Broker, allegedly. But not to forget, your time together at the bar yesterday led you both to your separate beds. Regretful. Cold.
A pinching of muscles tightens around your throat - your hand as you want to hug him, but he seems all too fragile. “You're right…um.” You provide a facade of a smile and shake your head as you try to muster some comforting words. “We’ll talk soon, ‘kay?”
He reflects a smile to you— showing off those prominent cheekbones you love to kiss upon. A swift nod confirms that it could happen, eventually. But then he walks away as if it was something that hurt to look forward to.
///
In online meetings, you feel sulky. The pink border that lined your computer screen was more interesting than any business plans anyone spat out of their mouths on a call.
To make matters worse, it was raining and you felt cold. The thudding of water from the sky onto your windows made your thoughts want to speak louder. To bring you back into the loop, someone mentioned asking about the weather on your end.
You jerk slightly and unmute. “Not the choice of day to drive home after work, that's for sure!”
A sitcom laugh livens the chat from business talk for only a small while. But then it's:
Ms. Hart, have you been able to receive my emails?
When is the best time to reach you?
Where should we begin making investment plans?
Is Mr. Jung on board with any of this?
“Mr. Jung? I’m afraid it’ll be a decision of my own will this time around. We, as Co partners, do sometimes handle different parts of the business on our own.”
Work business. Personal Business. Interpersonal Business.
You watch the clock too often. It moves too slow, and these business mongrels talk too damn fast.
At five minutes till the end of the shift hour, you pitch into someone's conversation to offer room for your appreciation for their interest, but you postpone any decision, leaving the opportunity still in the open.
The call closes out when everyone takes their leave, wishing a joyful night to prepare for the next treacherous day.
You just wanted to be in reach of him. To tell him how much you care. To mention how your behavior toward him as of late feels spiteful.
A buzz from your desk drawer piques your interest. You unlock it—(a means to control yourself from distraction), pulling out your cellphone to check what alerts you, and then alert him. Except it is him
Wooyoung Jung: I decided to leave early today. Meetings went just fine :) it seems we’re making progress.
Breath pushes out through your nose from being let down on seeing him, and just when you were going to send off a short message, another of his arrives.
Wooyoung Jung: We’ll find time to talk about that other thing. Take care. Perfect weather for tea, coffee, and good tv :)
More breaths tumble out of your chest from chuckles. It was a choke-up you did when you felt like crying.
Me: Nice work! Hope to see you soon then!
You smack at your lips on how “boss—like” it sounded.
Me: There's no perfect day without you. I can’t wait to see you aga—
No. No. No.
The actual message sent:
Me: Sounds great, and you do the same. Maybe you can finally try out that indoor gym in your apartment.
Dots appear, and then they don’t.
“Anything but that. I could’ve said anything but that!”
Luckily for you, no one could see you banging your head through the shut curtains. But a knock on your door prevents further damage to your migraine.
“One moment!”
You huff, gathering your belongings and your new favorite umbrella. Gifted by someone you love and can't even talk to.
You flip the loose hairs out of your face with your head- breathing in to put face on so you can leave this place and be to yourself.
Behind the door—you are met by Yunho.
“Ms. Hart—” he notices you were just leaving, and so soon by surprise. “I’ll be quick, but, I just want to talk to you about something for a short while.”
Everything reminded you of him. But he especially reminded you of what you might’ve put him through.
“Come on in.”
There, you settle in the dim office space awakened only by a desk lamp.
“Whenever you feel ready, Yunnie.”
He's slightly taken aback by your nickname for him. He only gets to hear it in moments like this. Or when Mark Lee, your former CEOs assist, at times left early, and Yunho stayed behind to lessen your workload.
A deep exhale and his boggling eyes track the edges of your desk as he calculates his speech. “I’ve been under your supervision for some years now, and this may be stepping over the lines of professionalism, but I feel the need to ask…”
At that, you sit up and scoot in closely. “You’re safe here.”
He nods as he already acknowledges it.
“Was it you who pushed Mr.Jung to apologize to me?”
Your breath leaves rushed in relief.
“No, he did that of his own accord. I simply advised him and everyone in this office to be careful not to accuse others of things that they do not know of.”
Yunho just nods in the silence after— like his mind was piecing back from elsewhere. You muster up a sad smile.
“I should apologize too.”
His eyes sparked, and his hand rose in caution. “Ahhh no no-
You push down his hand to counter his kindness.
“You were the first person to come to me with your concerns about Mr. Lee. I should’ve shut down those rumors and cursed everyone when I had the slightest suspicions.”
“Well, Mr. Lee was upfront with you— which makes all the difference.”
“It does, Yunnie. A man who knows himself doesn’t have to say anything. His actions spoke for themselves.”
He grows flustered and bows promptly. Your smile warms from the sight of it. No matter how hard you pushed him to, he couldn't drop the formalities even if the two of you were the only people left in the world.
“Meeting adjourned.”
///
The rain stops its parading only after you enter through your door, and yet, after brewing tea in a whistling kettle, your thoughts were still too loud.
Yet and still, if you could translate the words out of your mind— if he were to be right here, you wouldn’t know where to even begin.
You pick up your phone again— smirking at the thought of a booty call, but you needed more than a warm body.
After you both confessed love— one you're starting to believe true with its taboos, presence began to have so much more meaning.
So you try typing:
I don’t think tomorrow can wait. I need you here.
Still booty callish.
What do you think about coming over here after you work out? I have that massage gun you love— fully charged~.
Too much tension in that kind of "relaxation".
It stopped raining right after I came in. Even the universe hates to see me work.
Who cares?
None of them makes the full send, and that night, you fall to sleep at an early bedtime out of boredom and an overworked brain. As if your few years of older age have caught up with you in that very moment.
“The next day will be for a regenerated Ms. Hart,” you thought, “a woman who knows that business and pleasure should never be mixed- it's a recipe made for disaster.
…
Came a brand new day in the early morning, you were the same woman with the same preexisting thoughts- but how’d you carry it with your persona today, you challenged it to change.
Your first thought was to mask the pain with a choice of attractive attire. You eyeballed a silk fuchsia dress with a bow on its sleeve. It wasn’t ideal for work. But as a CEO, rather…who the hell cares!
You toss it over your shoulder and onto your poster frame over your mattress.
Memories flood by of Wooyoung smiling, being hung limb for limb, but you ignore it.
As a case to block the noise you put on pop rock from the early 2000s- bopping your neck as you scrub away the regretful words that slipped through your teeth and tongue.
Diving into your skincare, you press a cold guasha over your lymph nodes to drain the puffiness from tears and pent-up frustration.
You finish by pressing into your skin- feeling how supple and soft it’d become in the use of your products.
Then you began to stare for too long. So much so that the reflection felt like an absorption of the memories you wanted to be short-term for today.
But you put on that smile just like you’ve always known how, and turn swiftly, nearing running away, it seemed— to lose sight of yourself.
The dress is just as you rememberin the dressing room, and it fits so snugly. Too snug, and you began to worry about your comfort level to go through the day like this. But to be noticed by him, or at least to forgive yourself— you had to pretend not to care.
Unlimited sprays of your finest perfume are sprayed on your body and the air, and you spin into it, kissing your skin like a sprinkle of rain.
On your way out, you go over your mental checklist to grab your on-the-go essentials. The umbrella laid at the door. It was yet another rainy day- silk was certainly a quizzical choice, but you’d rather take a piece of him with you than go through all of that effort and look like a stray.
///
In the parking garage, you notice his car is parked spaces down from his usual place next to yours. The thing that bugged you was that the spaces on both of your sides were empty, and only one car had sat in the middle of that gap from his.
Yet, you don’t allow it to sour your mood. You pick up your head and breathe in so hard it suctions the air from your neck.
Your steps are normally paced- leaving every click of your heels an sound echo. When you arrived out of the elevator onto your floor, you mimicked all of your greetings, but you overlooked them as your eyes sought for someone else.
Then your breath hitched quick when you saw the opening of his windows and his office door. He was sorting through papers, wetting his fingertips to separate the freshly printed papers. You slow your steps upon aligning with his direct line of vision. You unconsciously move into a pose the moment your eyes meet- but a figure smelling of fruit bright and young disrupts it and enters his office with a cup of coffee.
He blinks and moves his mouth for words that don’t reach. He then turns his focus to his assistant- providing her warmth and laughter you had craved. She walks out quickly after and addresses you briefly. You do the same and look at her with a blatant expression when she turns her back.
At that, you couldn’t bear to try to speak with him anymore. You had thought his mood would extend to everyone else, but it seems you were the only one given a cold shoulder. The labor of your breathing worked a multitude of times harder to reach your office door.
Damn you, locking it every night for precaution— because now you're fumbling your keys into the hole, and missing it too many damn times. You push your body into the room just as your arm forces down the lever.
You look over the work pile on your desk with distaste, so you head straight for the couch and plop to rest there. No open curtains, no light through the windows, and no power of electricity anywhere.
You just needed a moment to breathe. To believe that a really bad but small teeny tiny moment couldn't mess up your good day. It had to be a good day.
Luckily, your primary goals today involved some evaluation of each investor after yesterday’s meeting. You requested a sales presentation pitch from each company on core values like leadership skills, aligning values, cultural criteria, conflict resolution, reputation, etc.
It was like grading homework as a teacher for students who wanted to become teachers themselves. The grand thing about it all is that you could coop in your office and get it done before half the shift is through- leaving the rest of the time to stitch other things that needed to be brought together…
///
Just as you assumed, it was a breeze.
As long as you’ve been doing business for nearly half of your life, it's easy to dictate who has long-term plans, and who produces a convenient product but can’t even invest in themselves.
Another meeting would take place tomorrow, and it was then that you had to either change lives or break young hearts. Emails similar to what you sent out to Broker— with more thoughtful and actual advisory to help them better themselves. It's part of your brand after all.
You walk over to the windows to let the first rays of heat on the inside. At least you could always rely on the sun to make you warm. It’ll always be there. It’ll always feel the same.
You closed your eyes just to linger within it. Your mind unconscious wants to find triggers that'll lead to what you're hoping for—what you're truly missing.
Your hands dance over your arms lazily… slowly. If someone came in from behind you, it would look like you're pretending to kiss someone else. To outsiders from down below, if they could even see…well, you just look like a crazy person.
Your favorite time to just watch the world from here was when the sun would set. It happens just as the work day ends, and the sun would align just perfectly with the top of the tallest buidlings.
If made possible that there could be the thinnest string on earth to walk you to it in mid air—you would take that risk. Especially now, to view itif it's the last thing you'll see.
Your eyes open, and you let out a deep sigh as if releasing all that you had thought about, and yet you were going to face it now in reality.
You had to walk out just as you came in. Just right down the hall was the area everyone liked to congregate in during mornings. It was convenient to settle there as soon as they arrived— to access the elevator for early board meetings— or, quite honestly, because you could sometimes be a morning grouch.
Later in the afternoon, right after lunch, actually, people began to convert over. You’re still not sure if that’s telling of yourself or them.
Just across from the colleague congregation area was the Assistant CEO’s office. Any questions that you would be better off not being bothered with could be asked by the person taking place in that office.
"Wooyoung Jung".
It’s why everyone got along well with him so easily. You would find yourself strolling out for coffee and tea when he came along the first few weeks, he'd be chatting away outside of his office alongside the table, and laughing with everyone like titles weren’t a part of the paycheck.
Near lunch time, you initiate a plan that is masterful in your mind.
Today was no different. You were walking toward the colleague congregation area, and he was facing in the opposite direction, lying back and suave, except he was sitting at a table with open laptops like all the others.
Everybody sitting in his opposite direction of the table grew quiet with your approach. You used to not care for the timidness and respect that came with that. But you give anything now to be like him in that way. To associate without fear lingering behind you.
“Good afternoon.” You call out.
Everyone echoes and quiets into what would follow after that. It wasn’t rare that you’d drop by at this hour or at all. But with just mere minutes before lunch, you usually wait a little longer to miss the chaos.
Your eyes dagger in the back of his head. Silent...waiting for him to give you the smallest time of day. He turns a quarter sideways in his seat— he keeps only one leg and an arm outside—the rest of his body still tucked underneath the table.
But you opt for it to be enough for now. After all, you are the only direction he strays away from.
“I think what we’ve been through in this past month was a breakthrough— we haven’t celebrated enough.”
Everyone nods, mumbling incoherently— but to your ear, it sounds like an agreement.
“So for today… by your own choice…I'm deciding to buy lunch for you all.”
You pull papers from behind your back, walking toward the table on its head, where no seat is present, and adjacent to you, he sits in that same position. You don’t gaze upon him for intimidation or any recognition. Rather, you don’t look at him at all.
“There is a limited line space on each sheet, so once it's filled, you cannot have that choice of a meal.”
You pull pens from behind your back and smile as you place them right in the center.
“I’ll let you guys get to it then. I’ll be in my office. First come. First serve.”
Thank you’s and other words of appreciation speak into the thick air.
You walk away with a grin—hearing the scraping chairs and the rippling of paper take over the once peaceful atmosphere.
You're nearly halfway down the hall when Wooyoung turns to mock that same grin. He loved your kind of nice. The way you just handled that was out of genuine kindness, but you did wreak a little havoc for your entertainment. And that dress you wore wreaked havoc of it's own.
Yunho, who’d sat beside him, had also watched you and him both—smiling to himself at the scene you’ve caused. He wanted to do nothing more than smack the Wooyoung’s neck and have him run after you, but good thing he was already on it.
A breath you held deeply was expelled once you reached your office door, but then you smelled him again.
Footsteps grow louder and harder as you make your way into the room, and that’s when you decide to take a glance.
He picked up speed and reached out to you so fast the wind swiped the hair of his bangs, exposing his forehead. It was only a look for milliseconds, but it became an addiction within that same time frame.
He pants with a troublesome smile—smacking his hand on the door before you can shut it.
“Let’s talk.”
///
You hesitate. His hand is still pressed flat to the door. His chest rises and falls like he ran more than just the hall. And for a second — that one second — it feels like a turning point. A beat in the story where things could begin again.
You step aside.
He walks in.
It’s quiet. The soft click of the door behind him seems louder than it should be.
Neither of you speaks at first.
Then he does— a voice too careful, too rehearsed.
“You look beautiful,” he says. Voice low, almost reverent. But his face doesn’t match the words — every compliment laced with sorrow.
You smile faintly, hesitant. “Then why do you look like you're at a funeral?”
He steps closer, brushing a hair off your shoulder. “I missed you,” he says quietly.
And for a moment, you believe it. For a moment, your heart leans forward, craving something to hold onto.
You let out a soft laugh. “I thought you’d never speak to me again.”
He looks at you then — really looks — and everything in his eyes screams I don’t want to hurt you. That alone makes your breath hitch.
“What's wrong?” you ask, stepping in. “Why do you look so sad?”
He hesitates.
Then, almost too softly:
“I think we need to take a break.”
The hope you held in your heart shatters like glass under a bare foot.
“What?” you whisper.
He doesn’t repeat it.
You yank your hand from his grasp. “No. No — what the hell do you mean, a break?”
He tries to speak, but you barrel on, voice rising. “When things were finally good? When we gave ourselves to each other— when we said ‘I love you’? That was real.”
He steps forward to calm you, but the anger sparks red.
Your eyes burn. “Right...? Why are you doing this to me?”
You don’t say it aloud — but your mind races to the assistant. The laughs. The coffee. The convenient timing. There has to be someone else.
Your chest heaves. You’re trembling now. “You said you loved me.”
“I do,” he whispers. “But this— us— it’s dangerous. I can’t explain it, but if I stay close, something worse is coming. I can’t protect you from it if I’m the one causing it.”
“Then why not tell me what it is?” you snap. “Why not give me the choice to be hurt instead of just deciding I can’t handle it?”
He reaches for you again, gently, and you push him off at first. But the touch lingers. Your fight softens, a few tears slipping down.
“You don’t get to do this,” you murmur. “You don’t get to walk in here, act like you care, and then drop me all over again.”
“I’m sorry,” he says. “This isn’t what I want. It’s what I have to do.”
You wipe your face. Steady your breath.
“Get out.”
He flinches. Doesn’t argue. Just nods slowly.
You open the door for him.
Before he leaves, he looks back. One last glance. But you cut it short.
“It won’t be long,” you say coldly. “Before everyone’s names are on the menus. Hope you’re hungry.”
The door shuts behind him.
You’re alone.
Again.
///
When you get home, you rip the dress off and shove it to the back of your closet.
Never to wear it again.
It doesn’t deserve another moment of your skin.
It's a funeral outfit now — mourning clothes. Unfit for any celebration. Stained in invisible grief.
You don’t even bother undressing properly. Just peel it off like dead weight.
You stare at the closet for a long time after. The silk bow droops off the hanger like a flower left too long in the sun.
Then you close the door.
Hard.
HERE LIES: The end of the beginning of a loving relationship.
CAUSE OF DEATH: Still under investigation.
…
Days pass. Wooyoung avoids unnecessary contact.
You hold it together — in posture, in professionalism, in every meticulously measured step across the office floor. Your eyes bottle up the emotions you refuse to let spill, not here, not where your name means power.
But his eyes? His eyes flicker when you pass. His footsteps falter — only to walk right past you.
You do everything in your power not to let it show. He’s in your debt. And every day he avoids paying it, the interest grows.
Ten minutes before work ends, you catch him on the elevator — not going up, not heading toward the main floor like usual, but descending… one floor below your garage. He’s not just avoiding conversation now. He’s avoiding your existence.
You tell yourself it’s not just the truth he’s avoiding anymore — it’s you.
But what's the difference between you and Wooyoung? You let yourself feel. You rage at home, in silence, behind doors where your pain belongs. Wooyoung carries it here, like a ghost haunting the very place where it all began.
This office is where he met you. Where he first admired you. Where he kissed you by the windows on a drunken dare that turned into something sacred. This is where you said yes to his contract — his one of unruly desire, nothing about business terms.
He drinks bourbon alone at night, chasing the burn in his chest — the same fire you used to stroke with your hips pressed against him, your nails carving up from his ribs.
But no amount of liquor can erase the scent of you from the pink-swathed corners of every office. It’s not just memory— it’s everywhere.
The next day you're walking to pick up documents from the printer when you catch him — stumbling near the doorway of his office.
Your lip curls instinctively. The clumsiness used to amuse you, especially when it came out in the bedroom — whining, fidgeting, unable to keep still when you teased him long enough.
Now? You ball your fist at your side. Why should I feel bad?
He’s the one dragging himself in here like he’s the victim.
Then he suddenly pinches his side, and you watch his body shudder like he’s about to throw up. He stumbles, one hand bracing the doorframe. You blink — unsure whether to go to him or not.
Then you see him pinch his apple bottom and begin to gag.
‘Now you really owe me one, asshole.’
Just as you're marching down the hall with the harsh stomp of your heels, a breeze rushes past your shoulders.
“Mr. Jung!”
There she goes, nearly falling into disarray—his assistant.
She's all in his face—bending her knees to look even closer, but he softly pushes her away—even patting her hair to calm her down.
“I have the seltzers and the headache powders! Sorry, I took so long…how clumsy of me!”
“It’s okay, Mioko! You did a good job.”
He offers her a sick smile, but then nearly throws up in her face until he redirects himself to the trash near his desk.
That's when you take your queue—walking down quickly to take a left into the printer room, picking up your freshly warmed sheets.
But it runs cold as you march right back up again.
And while Mioko is rubbing deep circles into his back, the paper cuts your hand in the wind, blood running quick.
...
The day drags on, and Wooyoung barely makes eye contact when he passes by. He’s distant, more distant than he’s been in days. Every time you think of him, it’s like that sharp sting in the back of your throat — that tightness you can’t get rid of.
Lunch comes and goes. His assistant, the one you never paid attention to before, is suddenly in every room. You’re sure it’s intentional. She’s hovering more, laughing at his jokes more, looking at him like she’s trying to make the right on him. And maybe she is.
Wooyoung, though, doesn’t seem to notice. He’s in his own world, focused on work, but there’s something about the way he behaves around her that doesn’t sit right with you. It’s not even that he’s being overtly flirtatious. He’s just letting her exist in his space. Letting her watch him. Letting her be.
You start to wonder if he’s trying to get a rise out of you. He’s always known how to push buttons. But this? This feels like something else.
By late afternoon, you sit alone in your office.
Investor meetings have ended. The hallway outside is quiet. Everyone’s either gone home or buried behind closed doors.
And all you can think about are his words.
“We need to take a break.”
Not “I need space.” Not “I’m confused.”
A break. Like you’re a distraction. A detour. Something to be parked and revisited later — if convenient.
The more you sit in the silence, the more your thoughts splinter.
Was it something you did?
Or was it just him?
He was scared, that much is clear. But did he have to run this far?
Did he have to punish you for loving him?
You glance at the clock.
Nearly an hour after the work day. You've just been purposefully avoiding his avoidance.
“Ms. Hart?”
It’s Yunho again. His voice is calm, like always. No rush, no urgency. Just the sound of him being exactly who he is.
You don’t feel like dealing with anything right now, but you can’t shut him out. Not like this.
“Come in,” you say, your voice clipped, but not unkind.
He steps in, coffee in hand, like he always does. “You’ve been at it all day. Figured you could use a break.”
You smile, but it’s forced. “Thanks, Yunho. I appreciate it.”
He doesn’t sit down right away. Instead, he lingers near the door, watching you closely. There’s a brief pause before he speaks again.
“You’ve been a little off today. If you need to talk…” He trails off, giving you a moment to react.
You hesitate. You don’t want to burden him with your issues, but at the same time, the loneliness is starting to suffocate you. For him to notice? It made you feel wanted.
“Maybe another time,” you say, your voice softening. “But thanks.”
He nods and turns to leave, but not before offering a smile. “Not a problem. Ever.”
You watch him go, your heart a little lighter, but the weight of the day still presses down on you.
///
Yunho’s Perspective
He saw it again.
The way Miyoko leaned in.
Her voice had a particular register when she spoke to Wooyoung — light, flighty, with just enough hesitancy to seem bashful. But her hands? Her hands weren’t hesitant at all. They floated near his desk, near his arm, near anything she could make contact with under the guise of being helpful.
Wooyoung didn’t seem interested. Not in the way Miyoko hoped for. His responses were clipped, his nods distracted. Still, he let her hover. Maybe it was easier than pushing her away. Maybe he didn’t even register what she was doing. But Yunho did.
And what unsettled him more wasn’t just Miyoko’s behavior around Wooyoung — it was what happened when Wooyoung looked up.
His eyes would flick across the office. Sometimes toward her. Her.
Yunho caught him doing it twice yesterday and once already this morning.
Wooyoung didn’t look at her like a man who had moved on. He looked like a man trying not to look. Trying not to feel. Trying not to fall back into something he knew he’d lose control over again.
She, however, didn’t seem to notice. Or maybe she was trying just as hard not to notice.
Yunho watched as you buried herself in numbers — share reports, investor updates, cultural audits. The kinds of tasks you used to breeze through with a spark in your eye were now being tackled with rigid efficiency. There was no joy in it. Just necessity.
It wasn’t his business. Not really.
But watching you spiral behind glass while Wooyoung sulked under fluorescent lights and Miyoko fluttered around like a moth to flame — Yunho couldn’t ignore the quiet shift of power in the room.
So, he took up space. Not forcefully. Just enough.
He found excuses to walk past your office. Dropped off reports you didn’t ask for. Volunteered for calls that had no relevance to his department, just so he could brief you afterward. Anything to break up the silence settling between the office walls.
You began to soften, little by little.
Not much. Not enough to say you’d let him in. But you’d meet his eye now. You ask his opinion on a pitch, or raise a brow at one of his dry comments, even when you tried not to smile.
And Yunho? He didn’t push. He let you take the lead — even if that lead was slow, cautious, full of unspoken barriers.
But still, something about you had changed.
And so had something about Miyoko.
It started the moment he walked past her desk last Thursday.
She'd been typing something on her screen — probably another status update or calendar sync for Wooyoung — but she paused when he passed. Not like she wanted to say something. More like she didn’t want to be seen watching him.
He felt it again the next day.
And again the day after that.
Her eyes always tracked him a half-second longer than they should. Not flirtatiously — not like the way she hovered over Wooyoung. This was different. Focused. Curious.
As if she knew Yunho was seeing something he wasn’t supposed to see.
Yunho didn’t say anything. But he started paying more attention.
He noticed how Miyoko’s laughter sharpened in Ms. Hart’s presence. How she crossed her legs a little too deliberately when the CEO walked by. How she started wearing a newer shade of lipstick — brighter, more pronounced — and then always reapplied it near reflective surfaces. Never discreetly.
It wasn’t about Yunho. It wasn’t even about Wooyoung anymore.
Miyoko was staging a performance.
And Ms. Hart? She was the audience.
Or at least… she had been.
Because lately, Yunho saw a shift in her, too.
She wasn’t flinching anymore when Miyoko brushed past Wooyoung. She wasn’t sighing in passing when she saw them too close. Her expressions were unreadable now — not cold, not dismissive, but… studied.
Detached.
Yunho knew better than to believe she was unaffected.
But she was re-directing.
And lately, when Yunho stepped in to help — she let him.
Just yesterday, she’d invited him to sit in on a late-afternoon meeting with two junior founders. It wasn’t his department, and he knew she could’ve asked anyone else. But she’d looked up and said:
“You read people well. Stay for this one.”
That was all.
He’d sat two seats to her left, listened as the young entrepreneurs pitched their eco-focused logistics brand. She didn’t interrupt once. Let them talk to themselves in circles. Only after twenty minutes did she fold her hands and glance at Yunho.
“Your take?”
And she’d waited. Watched.
Trusted.
It was a flicker of something — not necessarily romantic. Just real. A kind of recognition that he wasn’t trying to take from her, or play her, or fix her.
He just wanted her to be okay.
That evening, Yunho stayed a bit after hours.
He said it was to finish backened reports. But the truth was, he lingered near the door. Just to see if she’d knew it was safe to leave and day goodbye.
It wasn't the perfect pitch but somewhat moving. Like she had finally let the weight slide off her shoulders for one second. Just one.
In each and every paining day Yunho watched Wooyoung across the floor — slumped in his seat, shoulders tense, eyes darting to Miyoko’s empty desk or your swaying body — he saw the shift happening again.
This wasn’t about causing jealousy. Or payback.
It was about who was paying attention. The attention you both craved from one another.
///
A Couple Weeks Later...
Miyoko’s absence is unusual.
For the first time in two weeks, she isn’t in the breakroom before noon. She isn’t at Wooyoung’s desk first thing, reciting the itinerary like she’s auditioning for his heart. She’s not even whispering with the other interns about lipstick shades and diet sodas.
She’s gone.
And Yunho notices.
So do you.
The only person who doesn’t seem to register it is Wooyoung — or he pretends not to. But he’s restless. His pen clicks incessantly during the morning meeting. He shows up five minutes late, says nothing, and leaves the second his agenda items are done.
He doesn’t even glance in your direction.
You notice, of course. It would’ve been impossible not to. But you’re too busy — too focused — to waste your thoughts on him.
The new pitch cycle has taken off. Investors are hungry. Your inbox is full of follow-ups, fresh proposals, and gratitude emails from young founders who claim you’ve “changed their lives.” And for once, you allow yourself to believe it.
For a day, it doesn’t feel like you’re fighting the world.
You’d sent Yunho a shared folder that morning — strategy drafts and personality audits — and he’d replied within the hour with suggestions marked in gold.
Professional. Fast. Supportive.
No second-guessing. No complications.
Not one person in those emails was detached from you and what you could serve.
...
It’s around 2:30 PM when it happens.
You aren’t there to see it, but the story makes it to your office before the hour is out.
Yunho’s the one who recaps it, careful with every word.
“She brought him this... weird little bento box. Heart-shaped egg, sticky note, the works. He told her it wasn’t appropriate. She laughed. Thought he was joking.”
“Was he?” you ask, already knowing the answer.
“No. He wasn’t.”
The final straw comes when Miyoko — not taking the hint — reaches for the collar of Wooyoung’s shirt to brush off an invisible speck.
He flinches.
And not the kind of flinch you do when someone surprises you. The kind you do when you’re about to explode.
Witnesses say he doesn’t yell. Doesn’t throw anything. But his voice is cold. Razor-sharp.
“Do you not understand the word no?”
The whole office hears it.
And Miyoko? She turns redder than her lipstick. Spins on her heel. Leaves without taking her box.
Wooyoung doesn’t chase her.
He doesn’t even look up again.
Yunho says it feels like the whole floor exhales afterward. Some people didn’t even realize how uncomfortable her presence had become until it vanished. Like stepping out of a hot room you didn’t know you were suffocating in.
Just then, when that moment came to your knowledge— the same feeling had washed over you.
So, what next?
...
By 4:00 PM, you’re in your office, alone again.
But for once, it doesn’t feel like punishment.
No knock. No calls. No demands. Just a few soft beeps from your laptop — auto-updates and follow-ups from your morning emails. You stretch out across the couch with your heels kicked off, an iced coffee on the windowsill, and the rarest of luxuries:
A moment to yourself.
You think about taking the elevator down, grabbing a slice of that raspberry cheesecake your favorite restaurant nearby sells after 4, but decide against it.
You don’t want to lose the stillness. Not yet.
Instead, you replay the investors’ reactions from earlier — the smiles, the nods, the actual respect in the room when you spoke.
It isn’t easy being the woman in charge. But today? It was worth it.
You squeal once — just a little. A ridiculous, girlish squeal muffled into the back of your wrist as you kick your feet softly into the couch cushions.
For a second, you let yourself be happy.
You spin up onto your feet, doing a dumb little shimmy in the center of the room, mouthing an old song under your breath like you’re back in your bedroom at seventeen.
It’s dumb, and it’s perfect.
You grin like a fool. Wooyoung had free space again, although cautious of whom he invited.
But it wasn’t his office in your own company you felt restricted to — it was his physical being.
“That fucking phone,” You thought back to the moment he got that message, and began to part from you, just in distance. “Who could it be? Some other chick turning him out?”
Then you walk back to your desk before you can get too personal. Just to check your email.
Business and pleasure, a recipe—y’know the saying.
A new email chimes in.
The subject line is blank.
No preview text. No familiar name.
Just a string of numbers in the address line — almost like an error. But something about it makes your stomach churn before you even click.
There’s one attachment.
Just one.
You open it.
And stop breathing.
It’s a photo.
Of you.
Taken from outside the building. Through your office window.
Your face half-shadowed in gold light, arms hugging your shoulders, eyes closed in the sunlight.
The moment. That private, unguarded moment — the one you thought only the sun had witnessed. Your blood turns cold.
The caption is in the body of the email. Just one line:
“You think it’s over now, don’t you? You think he’s yours again.”
You don’t scream. You don’t move. Not at first.
The cursor blinks at the bottom of the email like it’s mocking you — like it knows you can’t delete it, can’t run from it, can’t pretend this doesn't get worse before it gets good again.
You press your hand to your chest, but it doesn’t help. Your breath is already retreating.
You feel watched. Exposed. And worst of all… violated.
You’ll recover — or pretend you have.
But this changes everything.
Now you know:
Anyone could be watching.
And they know far too much.
You didn’t wait until the end of the day this time.
You heard his footsteps. That signature stride. You’ve memorized it by now — a rhythm stamped into your skull from years of walking beside him.
This time, you moved faster.
You whipped your blazer off the back of your chair, heels thudding as you caught him rounding the corner near the elevator. His hand was hovering near the call button when your voice came sharp and low behind him.
“You're going to follow me home.”
He turned — startled, caught. Still too quiet.
“I don’t want to hear shit,” you added. “Bottom of the garage or not — I’ll be waiting. And if you’re not there, Wooyoung, I swear to God, I’ll expose everything before anyone else even gets the chance.”
You didn’t wait for a response. You didn’t need one. The decision was made. You didn’t speak on the drive back. Not a single word exchanged.
He parked across the street like always. Careful. Eyes darting, as if someone was watching. Maybe someone was. You didn’t care anymore.
Inside, your apartment was dim, untouched. The silence is too clean.
You slammed the door behind you. He followed, confining the remaining space to a gentle close.
Your heels hit the floor first. Then your earrings. Then your blazer flew onto the armrest. You dropped your purse with a careless thud. The keys skidded under the counter. Your hair came down next — pins pulled out one by one, fingers shaking.
“I can’t—” your voice broke. “I can’t do this alone.”
He stood still by the door. Eyes locked on you. Watching you unravel. You hadn’t cried yet. You were trying so hard not to.
“Why are you just standing there?” you snapped. “Say something. Anything. You’ve been ignoring me for weeks. You knew something was off, and you just… You just went silent.”
Still nothing. His jaw flexed. Then…“You’ve been getting messages too.” It came out more as a statement than a question.
That stopped you.
“Messages? As in more than just one?”
“Emails. Texts. Photos,” he lists. “At first I thought it was a scam, but then…” he swallowed. “Then I saw your name. Your beautiful face and mine…but–god. I didn’t know what they had, or how far they’d go. I thought staying away would protect you.”
You stared at him, your throat dry.
“You’ve known this whole time?”
He nodded once. Guilty. Heavy.
“I haven’t slept. I haven’t eaten right. I’ve come to work hungover almost every damn day.” He takes a step forward—nearly choking on his tongue. “I couldn’t talk to you. I couldn’t risk it. I didn’t want them to use me to get to you, love.”
Your hands trembled by a combination of adoration and fear. You turned your back on him, wiping your face hard and heading for the wine cabinet. You pulled out the first red bottle you saw, uncorked it, and poured a full glass without looking.
“I need something in me before I lose it.”
He moved toward you — slowly, cautiously. His head pounded just watching you, but he didn’t reach for the glass until you raised it again for the third time.
“Hey—” his hand closed over yours mid-sip. “That’s enough. You can’t think straight like this.”
“I don’t want to think straight!” you snapped, voice shaking now. “I’ve spent the last month thinking straight, and where has it gotten me? They’re watching us, Woo. They know everything. I mean, how can we even think there’s just one man behind this!”
The glass clattered into the sink. Half-full. Forgotten.
He pulled you into him. No words. No excuses. Just his chest rising and falling against yours, his heartbeat louder than anything else in the room.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “For all of it. But everything I do is for you. I love you to pieces.”
You stood there. Letting the tension bleed out. The anger was still in you, but it was knotted with heartbreak now.
Your voice was small when it came again. “We have to figure this out. Together.”
“We will,” he said. “If you want to keep — us — we need to fight back. Whoever this person is, they want to break us. The company. Our love.”
You nodded, his forehead pressing lightly to yours.
“They won’t.”
“We won’t let them.”
After a few tender moments, you both sat on the couch, knees touching. A notepad on the table between you, you use for grocery lists and bored doodles; scribbled with names, dates, timelines — anything that could be a lead.
You slide it to him.
He reads the first name: Broker.
The second one makes his jaw tense.
Miyoko.
A third lingers, half-written, half-hoped:
Yunho?
He shakes his head. “No. Not him.”
You cross it out but don’t rip it up.
“Well, if we were both cooped up in our offices during that time…,” you whisper, eyes scanning the list. “Someone watched us. Someone who knows us.”
“Who do you think it is?” you asked.
He blinks in a way that is affected by his override thinking.
“No idea. But they’ve been watching both of us for a long time.”
“How long do you think they’ve been inside our lives?”
“Longer than we realized.”
Silence again. But this one wasn’t sharp.
It was sacred. The kind you could breathe inside.
You glanced at the wine bottle again, half-tempted. But his hand reached out and squeezed yours.
“Just stay here,” he said. “Stay with me for now.”
And you did.
That mattered more than anything on the page.
You exhaled slowly, watching your thumb brush over the ridge of his knuckle, back and forth. There wasn’t much left to say, not tonight. You were both running on fumes — adrenaline, stress, exhaustion… and something deeper.
You stood, pulling him gently up with you, fingers still interlaced.
No rush. No words.
Just two people who had been bent to their breaking points, still choosing to hold on — to each other.
And in that quiet, something shifted.
Something deep and unsaid that lived beneath the fear and the files and the fights. Something that had waited patiently, silently, until you were both ready.
You led him down the hallway.
And for the first time in weeks — maybe months — the door to your room opened not just to shelter, but to something sacred.
You don’t even remember who moved first. Maybe it was you. Maybe it was him. But your bodies collided like the truth finally snapped your bones into motion.
His hands weren’t gentle. Yours weren’t either. You pulled at his collar like you wanted to rip every unanswered question from his throat. He gripped your hips like he’d been aching to hold something real — anything real — for weeks.
It wasn’t careful. It wasn’t sweet. It was everything you’d buried under silence and suspicion and fear —now rising all at once like a tidal wave that didn’t care who it drowned.
“Don’t walk away from me again,” you breathed.
“Then stop pushing me,” he snapped.
That was the moment you grabbed him. That was the moment you stopped pretending to be fine. And neither of you cared who got hurt first.
The air between you two thickens — not with silence anymore, but heat.
That kind of heat that crawls up the back of your neck and sinks its teeth into your spine. He’s looking at you differently now, not with distance, not even with apology — but hunger. Real, familiar, soul-wrenching hunger.
You don’t say a word when you reach for him. It’s not gentle. It’s not slow. It’s like unwrapping fire with fire — heels kicked off, buttons flying, clothes clinging on like they don’t want to be left out. You drag him by the collar like you’ve been waiting to flip this whole scene inside out, and he lets you.
Somewhere between the hallway and the couch, you forget who’s leading — not that it matters. The tension built over weeks is unraveling fast, teeth and hands and breath making up for lost time. It’s messy. Sharp. Like two storms clashing in the same sky.
Your pushed backward calves deep on the edge of the mattress. Wooyoung nearly topples you over and folds your upper half back while your legs are stuck in place.
But you both laugh it off and go back in for seconds—you were just that hungry. He picked you up from behind and threw you in the middle of your bed. The bedding was too clean with a lack of creases.
But as soon as Wooyoung gripped his arms around your thighs and trudged you forward, it refined its purpose.
Soon, your nails clawed into the sheets. His tongue circled your hole and in it to bring your wetness from the inside out.
He springs into a different action and begins to kiss upward between your folds—sucking a stronghold onto your clit that makes your first orgasm break through. Your eyes rolled back hard. Your legs tingled from your toes to your core.
Wooyoung laughed and kissed you chastely. But once he pulls back, you slap him with a grin.
What took you by surprise was that he smacked you back instantly. And hot damn—you felt so good about that. He saw through you. He knew you had liked that more than you should’ve. So then he lines himself with your cunt, rubbing his veiny dick through your slicked folds. Teasing the sensitivity of your clit on and off.
But what really turned you on is the hold he had on your throat. Every fucking inch of his body is littered with veins in his divine strength as a man. He hadn't even pushed himself inside you, and you were teetering so close to the waterfalls' edge.
You bite your lip in a physical reaction—looking down adoringly at his wet, sliding cock between your folds. He stops for a moment. Sliding the head near your hole until he lets it go and springs up again. You nearly whine and cry out in annoyance, but instead, you do it in bliss.
Wooyoung is stroking ‘come here’ motions inside you over that spongy spot that squeezes in intensity between his fingers. It's so fast that your thighs wiggle like a bee's wings. Then you find yourself in that same space. Lips bitten, eyes rolled back hard, hands crumpled into the clean bed sheets.
And another orgasm washes over. Much wetter than the last.
“Why didn’t you tell me you could squirt, baby?”
You smile at the ceiling. Getting over the subsiding of pent-up release. “Why haven’t you ever made me squirt? Ever think of that?”
Wooyoung already had eyes that were beautifully mismatched— working as one of the unique, charming points of his beautiful body. But now it has become more apparent as his eyebrows quirk. He took it as a challenge.
Not long after—your clit was getting licked on.
“Shit!”
Sucked on.
“Fuck!”
Spanked on.
“Oh my fucking—augh~!”
The waterworks had come out to start a show. The light pink once underneath you had grown a patch of fuchsia from your wetness. You were almost through, and Wooyoung just kept smacking hard onto your clit. On… and on…. and on.
Strangely, you got angrily aroused. You hooked your legs behind his toned ass—flipping him over into the cowgirl position. Your wetness made slipping him inside so easy.
You didn’t waste time. You bounced atop of him so hard that he bounced above the mattress— barely touching it with his body in the air. His brain short-circuited to catch up with the fast sequence of events. You were just below him not too long ago, but here you are now. He’s inside you deep.
Wooyoung looks at you as best as he can in amazement. He knew you were making him feel so fucking good. It’s just that his brain couldn't calculate it.
You were so thrilled, but your stamina began to deplete, and your thighs burned not long before. So you settled down—groin to groin and circled your hips with all of him inside you. It still felt good. Like a deep tissue massage.
But Wooyoung was able to reconnect his brain again like this. And not long after, you were back on the bottom.
The position shifts this time. You're on your stomach—ass up high.
Another slap to your cunt stings and tingles.
Wooyoung’s stretch of his thick cock follows behind.
You swore half of your mind there for a second could have been non-functioning—and the pace he was putting work into? Let’s just say the neighbors knew his name if they hadn't already.
As you bounce your hips back and arch your back deeper— you put in the effort to meet him halfway.
Your cheek squishes into your closed eye against the mattress as he pounces in and out of your puffy pussy. The squelching of your wetness had reached from the inside out to his balls, leaking your cum all around them.
The cold air around it weakens him further, and he begins to falter and slow down. He whines loudly into the air in frustration. Just as he was so close to washing weeks of it all the self-sabotage away, it captures him even in such tender moments.
You feel the dropping point in his performance, but further notice his need for that happy ending. You look up again. Pulling yourself slightly off the bed and reach into your bedside drawer. Once you retrieved what you needed to feel, you pulled away from him.
He crawls after you, begging for help like the olden days. Panting with his eyes closed like a kitten in heat.
“M-mistress, I need to cum, please—help me.”
Wooyoung feels something tap onto his plump pink lips. Firm. Long. Familiar. He blinks open his eyes in a haze—soon blown open as he recognizes that it's the strap on you’ve never tried together.
“Think you can get off from this?”
The ways his eyes cross to focus in make you want to cross the line. “Yes, Mistress. But I need you rough… fast…and hard.”
His cheeks swell in embarrassment, but you grab onto his jaw and kiss him in adoration.
“Into position then, kitty.”
Then the roles are switched as he lies on his stomach to where you were before. Stomach onto the sheets—ass up high and wagging. You squeeze lube over his pulsing hole and the strap—pushing in slowly for his adjustment. But he’s pushing and pulling off of it in an instant. Little did you know how much he had practiced to prepare for you all this time.
So you give what he needs…and much more.
Your nails rake through the fronts of his hair, stopping midsection to pull him back. His grip deepens in the sheets like a real feline—tugging them to slip from the corners.
Rough. Fast. Hard. Fucking him just like he wanted. Just like needed— let him tell it. If he were able to speak, that is.
Wooyoung looked ghostly in the way he had his eyes rolled into his skull, his mouth hanging open wide as he gasped for the air suck out of his lungs in every thrust.
To get him closer, he pumped his cock—focusing on rubbing onto his red, sensitive head for immediate relief.
You gritted your teeth— obliterating his hole like no other that made him cry out. And let's just say: If the neighbors hadn’t met you yet—they certainly had now. Ms.Weilderman—the sweet old lady next door—is certainly smiling proudly.
He gasps when he gets his release. It's quick, sharp, and reaches so far that it covers the wall behind the pillows. He shakes and collapses not long after bringing you down with him.
Your chest rises and falls on his back — both of you tangled in warmth and sweat and what’s left of that fire you couldn’t hold back.
But something’s off.
His breath is shaky. His shoulders stiffen beneath your cheek. He’s quiet — too quiet for someone who just had his heart wrung out like that. You lift your head slowly, your voice a whisper as you trace lazy, loving lines along the curve of his spine.
“What’s wrong?”
He exhales through his nose, like he’s been holding it in for hours.
“I started this,” he murmurs. “I—I wanted this. But now I’m just sitting here thinking... why the hell should we have to keep hiding it?”
You stay silent.
Because you’ve asked yourself the same thing — night after night, long before tonight ever happened.
“I hate that we have to be scared to touch each other. To look at each other like this. Like what we feel is something to be ashamed of.” His voice cracks just enough for you to feel the pain in it, the ache caught somewhere between regret and longing. “Why should we have to wait for stolen moments to feel real? Like this is some crime.”
He’s not crying loud — but you feel the tremble in his back, the way his body pulls in on itself like he’s trying not to fall apart.
You press a kiss to the space between his shoulder blades, lips soft against salt-wet skin.
And then it hits you too — the tears coming up raw, clogging your throat until your breath hiccups with them. You wipe at your face uselessly, and those sticky strings of spit-and-cry come with them, trailing down your chin as you try to steady yourself against him.
You roll off and pull him into your arms instead — no words now. Just the weight of him against your chest, his breath syncing with yours as your fingers tangle in his hair.
You cry together.
But it’s not a weakness.
It’s true.
You bask in the wreckage of it — the love, the shame, the need, the war it’s taken to hold on to something that feels this rare. This real.
And even in the silence, there’s an understanding:
This moment doesn’t make you weaker. It reminds you of what you’re willing to fight for.
You already know what it’s like to live without this.
You never want to again.
And whoever dared to make you feel like loving each other was something to hide?
They had hell to pay.
🐈⬛🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾
A/N: Who do you think could be behind all this?
Episode 6
THANK YOU FOR READING.
PLEASE DO NOT COPY MY ORIGINAL WORKS, reblogs are appreciated and accepted. Stealing and modifying my work or publishing out on other platforms is not.
🌸Summary: A healer escapes death and finds herself in a blessed garden of healing magic — and in the arms of the man bound to protect it. But to save her people, she must untangle his past… before the garden decides their fate. 🌸Word Count: 14k 🌸A/N: This beautiful story is finally able to breathe fresh air---as it has been in my drafts for nearly a year and a half. Also, I guess Tumblr has a thing now where you can only do 100 blocks per post, so excuse the mumble jumble.
"The Garden Chooses You"
You don’t remember how long you’ve been walking. The burnt rubble of an old village stretches on, and the deeper you go, the quieter the world becomes--- like the trees themselves are watching.
Then the vines grab you.
They snake up your ankles before you can react, winding tight like a warning. Before you can even cry out, something shifts in the light ahead.
There, standing beneath a shaft of sunlight that spills golden across the moss…
Is a man.
Naked.
Or rather, draped in nature itself--- leaves on vines coiled around his waist like a kilt, a sash of clustered flowers resting across his bare chest like an afterthought. He is slender like a stem, but there is nothing fragile about him. His skin is radiant, a sun-warmed tan with subtle hints of blush where the light hits. His lips are soft and pink, matching the petal-pale hair that glows like spun sakura silk under the sun.
His eyes--- deep, shimmering, impossibly dark--- hold the wild of a forest pond. His every movement is gentle, deliberate. Like a breeze through leaves. Even the faint veins along his arms look like root systems under his flesh.
He could be mistaken for a flower.
But when he speaks, there’s thorn beneath the bloom.
“I told your men to retreat. If they know what’s good for them, they’d listen." His glass orbs of light for eyes rake over your ragged clothing as if he can see straight through your pockets. "But I see the message hasn’t reached the lower classes.”
The vines tighten. You moan as the last bits of strength are squeezed from you.
“You. You’ll carry it. Return to them and tell them:
No one enters the Garden of Judgment.
And if they do… they will not return.”
Tears you wish could drip from your eyes bottle up inside from being upside down. You would hope at the least it would touch something inside him that was humane, but there was something about him---powers aside--- that seemed strikingly different. “I can’t--- I don’t belong there. I don’t want to belong there. That place is treacherous. I’d rather die!”
“And you think this is the place for you?”
“Foolish child. You don’t choose the garden — it chooses you. If you wish to die here, do so where your rotting corpse will be wanted.”
The vines hurl you backward---out of the garden, past the barrier of thorns.
You land on your back, panting.
And there you stay. For hours. Days maybe. You sit just outside the garden’s edge, staring into it, repeating his words:
You don’t choose the garden. It chooses you.
You try again. And again.
You speak to it. Plead with it.
Thorns prick your skin. Roots twist just out of reach. It tests you.
But still--- you don’t leave.
You grow weaker. You cough, starving. Your stomach turns in on itself.
And then...
A leaf pokes you gently.
A flower tips over---pouring cool water onto your lips.
You cough but roll over as your stomach grumbles, you have the feeling that it’s began to eat itself from the inside out.
And there it is--- a woven basket full of wild berries.
“Thank you… dear garden.”
You take a bite. They're delicate. Tart. Alive.
“What delectable berries you create… truly.”
The vines rustle. A little shy.
“This must’ve been your kindness,” you murmur. “Not that cruel flower man...”
The vines suddenly shake.
No.
You blink.
“Wait--- he didn’t create you, did he?”
The garden responds.
The trees shape-shift. Branches contort. Vines illustrate the story in symbols.
You watch it unfold:
He forced his way in.
He wasn’t chosen.
Now, he is cursed to protect it for eternity.
“So, he’s not one of you…he’s a prisoner of sorts?”
The plants nod.
“Huh,” you scoff. “He really has some nerve.”
A tree crosses its branches tightly like arms, turning to you in agreement.
“Garden of Judgment,” you whisper. “Thank you. Without you, I wouldn’t still be here. You must know I speak truth--- you can feel it, can’t you?”
You shift your dress to face its roots on your bare knees. “I don’t seek to steal. I’m on an escape because I wished to use your flowers to heal others. My fellow villagers…they want to live somewhere that doesn’t hurt.”
The vines still.
Then… a sign appears. Formed from leaves and bark.
You may enter… but only if you compromise with your truth.
“Of course dear garden.”
If you break from it--- you’re cursed here forever. Like him. But without his power.
You pause.
“....if that’s what it takes…then I accept.”
The trees uproot themselves to coven a pathway with a roar. Wind sweeps past you, and the pink flowers ahead begin to glow.
You follow.
“Like his pink hair,” you murmur. “His skin. His lips. His cheeks…”
You laugh of excitement under your breath. It feels too close to a dream.
Your footsteps hushed against soft moss. The air smells like blooming tea leaves. As you move forward, butterflies flutter across your arms like blessings. Leaves part just for you, and small woodland creatures watch curiously--- but not afraid.
The further you walk, the more you feel it---the garden knows you now.
And then...
You find him. Pink petals bow towards him in perfect spirals.
He stands by a steaming pool---the clearest water you've ever seen. The mist rises gently around his shoulders, and light breaks through the canopy in thin, golden threads.
With every step he takes, a flower blooms above ground. Tiny tree buds, soft-petaled and pink, follow him like loyal footsteps.
He hasn’t noticed you.
But the garden does.
A breeze shoves at your back like an impatient friend, and you stumble into view with a gasp.
A twig snaps.
He turns.
Bare chest. Pink hair. Rosy skin kissed by sun and glimmered by reflections of water.
He looks at you like a problem.
You freeze.
“I made a promise…to the forest. I will only make use of it for good. I will maintain its beauty.”
“Maintain? You’re already speaking as if it’s yours. Are you sure what you’re doing isn’t just… disdain in disguise?”
You stiffen. You’re so tired of people pretending they know you.
“You’re no better. You stand there in a nest of vines with all your flower powers like a divine being, but your reputation fades faster than your petals.”
His eyes sharpen. He realizes the garden had told his tale. But why to you?
“What I did... all those years ago to be trapped here was for good reason. I won’t let someone harboring greed live in a world they didn’t earn.
Especially not someone who dares to judge me.”
“I am judging you. Because you threw me out like a weed the second you assumed I was like the rest of them. But the kingdom doesn’t claim me either. They call me servant, tick picker, nursemaid to their hag mothers.”
Your voice cracks.
“I’ve given my hands, my back, my body to heal people who’d rather die than say thank you. And I’ve done it without the help of a single vine. However, this whole garden… is medicine. And the world out there is full of sick bastards who’d burn it down for a taste.”
That lands. His face falters, just for a second.
“And your world… your kings… kills families to keep what was never theirs.”
The flowers that were breath hood previous steps stop blooming. The air stills.
Somewhere, high above the canopy, the wind sighs.
And the garden… listens.
He steps closer, the water rippling through the sound his feet vibrated.
“You don’t even know your soul is bound now. You didn’t earn your place. This is your place now. Because you twisted fate.”
Your blood burns, and you take closer steps— right until your feet stops at a distance that can fill in another pair. “And you threw me out of the only place I’ve ever felt peace. You treated me like I was a pile of that burnt rubble before the garden--- like I was nothing.”
That stops him. For just a few painstaking moments. But his chest rises back up from fall, and his mouth moves to echo your message like the chirping birds.
"There were people buried under that rubble—-my father for one. That is my problem with your kingdom. That is why...you meant absolutely nothing to me."
The silence hangs.
The steam swirls.
And somewhere deeper in the forest... the garden waits, in conjuring.
You stand in stunned silence.
The garden around you glows with soft golden flecks, but you don’t see it.
Not really.
All you can see is him--- that man with petal-colored hair, retreating into the brush with an arrogant flick of his wrist. Gone, like none of this matters to him. Like you don’t matter.
But you do, and sadly, neither of you know it yet.
…
"Before the Forest"/"Shelter By Moonlight"
You’d once thought the king noble. Maybe not kind, but useful. Powerful.
You remember tending to one of the soldiers after a vicious battle. You knelt in the quiet corner of his room, applying poultices while overhearing the coded words slipping from the king’s lips.
“We’ll send a message,” he said. “Let the flowers tell it.”
Back then, you didn't know what it meant. Not until later…
You were never allowed in the palace’s library to read. But dusting the shelves? That wasn’t forbidden.
So you dusted. Skimmed the spines. Tilted books just enough to peek inside. Guards were skeptical at first, but after your cleaning—- it made the royal hall less embarrassing--- thanks to the nine noble children wrecking it daily--- no one looked twice.
You stood by the queen as she taught her young children the alphabet—- memorized titles as you swept. Later teaching yourself medicine between your so-called “shelf inspections.”
And when you noticed that common ingredients for curing plague and fevers--- elderberries, eucalyptus, cinnamon bark, and many more--- were growing in the nearby wildlands...
You knew what you had to do.
You waited until the king left again.
Then you ran into the woods with your ragged gown and bare hands. You foraged everything you could find. Returned home, brewed your own mixtures. You healed people. Not with gold. Not with status. But with roots.
The king returned--- triumphant that day from his journey.
He declared he'd would find the legendary Garden of Judgment. As it had involvement with the kingdom in the past.
You dropped to your knees. Praised him like a fool. You thought he’d given you all salvation.
You told him what the garden could mean for the sick, the starving, the lost.
You kissed the ground at his feet.
And for your passion…
He called you a witch.
The townspeople begged on your behalf. That made it worse.
He claimed you’d wanted power. That you were casting spells in secret. That your tears were manipulation.
You were thrown in a cell. Execution, three days.
At first, you were sadden the king couldn’t see things the way you had. That he didn’t care for his people because he made you prioritize the help of those he thought mattered.
Himself, his mother wife and children. His soldiers.
But never his people, and it made sense why he had gone for months to leave your town defenseless with poorly trained soldiers. He always hoped to find something better while you rot for dead.
With two days left, you prayed to the gods to sway your king themselves. Either through nature, a dream, or his family. You ran your mouth quietly as your lips cracked dry, not even the food you were served seemed appealing in your starved state. You saw no point to it, and it was shameful you had to meet death to attain such a luxury.
The day before you faced reality for what it was. Your king was evil and only sought for himself. So instead you curse him in prayer. Begged the gods to scare him off--- through sign. Have an animal attack him and his men in nature, haunt him in warning though his dreams, bring upon sickness and poor to his families. You had wished a massacre for all humanity on earth to the gods, and only if it meant getting to him.
He only saw resource as a trade for a power that will only serve for some short years in the conditions this life brought to all of you.
He was so self centered, ignorant, nothing more than scum off of your peeling feet.
On the day of your execution, you’ve come to terms for what awaited you. Here now in the real world, and the judgement that decided your fate for eternity. You were going to curse all in your final words- so loudly- it would shake the universe.
A smile played on your face as a jangle of keys sounded at the bars that withheld you, and suddenly, they had dropped to your feet.
You stuttered in upholding your head out of weakness, but there she was, the queen .
The queen was the only who've received your doctrines for years on end.
You’d held her hand during her childbirths--- ones the king never attended. You tended to the wounds she never admitted she had.
But you couldn’t heal her heart.
“I have a trolley of men waiting outside the castle for you." the queen whispered. “He won’t return until late morning. Please--- go now.”
Your chains drug along as you placed your lips between the bars and beckoned.
“My queen… come with me.”
She gasps and came to tears aloud.
You hear her sniffles and tears being tucked away, but it’s evident they’re screaming to be let out.
“I can’t,” she whispered. “The children… they need their father.”
You could not argue with her, but no man could claim holding to be a father if he’s absent. But you suppose the little moments of his presence is what she was holding near.
She gave you water. Bread.
Two guards disguised your chains as prisoner transport.
Miles outside the kingdom, the locks clattered loose in the grass.
And So, You Wandered. Hungry. Cold. Determined.
You searched for the garden. You found it.
You found him. Unexpectedly.
He threw you out.
But still… you returned.
And now it’s nightfall. The stars are blurred by mist.
You need shelter.
The path glows again. The garden flickers with golden light — illuminating a grove of gray trees ahead.
But these trees aren’t like the others.
They stare with dark eyes. With eyes you see placed on palm readers' cards.
Dozens of trunks, smooth and tall--- not painted, not carved.
Eyes grown from bark.
Unblinking. Unmoving.
But you feel them tracking your every step.
You walk faster. The trees repeat. Again. Again.
You break into a run. You trip over a vine. You hit the ground hard.
“What the hell could you possibly be running from?”
His voice.
You groan and look up.
There he is. Leaning against a tree. Half-shrouded in moonlight.
“I’m looking for shelter,” you snap. “Sleeping on dirt isn’t ideal for another night.”
“And, as the garden’s sick and twisted humor allows it…” he smirks, “You found me.”
“Oh cry me a river. I never wanted to see your smug face again.”
“Then I suppose you can’t stay there.”
You sit up.
And now you see it:
A massive treehouse, built into the belly of a towering, ancient tree. Its bark glows faintly green. Fireflies dance across the walls. Lanterns hang from branches, swinging like sleepy stars. Below, a small lake glimmers with fishlike sparks of light.
A thick, mouthwatering scent spills out.
“Oh how sick and twisted this truly is…” you mutter, dragging yourself toward the warmth.
The door creaks open. He doesn’t even hold it--- just leaves it cracked.
You argue.
You eat his soup.
You drop in one extra ingredient from the shelf of preserved jars amongst the wall--- just a pinch of crushed bay leaf and it transforms the broth entirely.
He pauses. Blinks.
“You don’t have to say it,” you grin. “I can hear it in your belly.”
“Well, yes. Your presence has shifted my dinner plans to a later time.”
“I bet it was worth the wait.”
“Please do not say such baffling things to me while I’m eating.”
“It is you who baffles me.”
You both laugh for the first time ever in one another's presence.
He takes your bowl, rinses it in a basin.
You wander.
There’s a library carved into the tree itself--- shelves grown from the roots, books tucked in every curve. Your fingertips drag over the spines in awe.
“This,” he says from behind you, “is where your limits end. Do not take my generosity for granted.”
“I might be stuck here forever, you know,” you say. “You’ll have to share eventually.”
“I’m sharing my rations. And a bedroom. I think I’ve done enough for ten lifetimes.”
“Well…I am grateful.”
“That’s rare...”
You sigh and walk out defeated. “I’ll be out by morning.”
“Much obliged.”
A beat of silence.
“Goodnight to you too…” you push out back into the corridor and into the door of the bedroom.
“Seonghwa!”
You turn.
“Remember the name and the face… so you don’t get in my way.”
You roll your eyes.
“Such a generous little bastard…”, you mutter.
He smiles — just barely.
The fireflies pulse against the window as you lie in some makeshift bedding.
And for the first time in days, you sleep under a roof.
...
Storms, Silence, and the Philosophy of Power
You wake to rain.
Heavy, drumming rain--- not the gentle kind that kisses windows, but the kind that feels like a warning. A storm thick enough to wash away paths, voices, certainty.
Seonghwa is gone.
The hearth is empty. The scent of his cooking--- what little lingered--- has faded into the wood. The vines outside sway in rhythm with the wind, tapping against the glass like impatient fingers.
You pull your shawl tight and pad barefoot into the main corridor.
“Seonghwa?”
No answer.
You follow the only warmth left in the treehouse--- the flickering glow of a nearby chamber. The library.
“Hello…? Seonghwa?”
“Who goes there!”
You flinch.
A snicker leaves him as he leans back and situates himself comfortably again. He’s tucked in a corner, legs folded beneath him, book open across his lap. The soft pink of his hair falls lazily over one eye, casting a shadow across his cheekbone.
“I told you not to take my generosity for granted,” he mutters. “And you snoop in here anyway.”
“I was only looking for you.”
“And medallions grow on trees.” He flips a page without looking at you. “Well… maybe they do here...But you? Out.”
“Oh Seonghwa, you cannot be serious.”
“Try me.”
“It’s pouring out there,” you snap. “And it’s freezing in every room except this one. Noted as to why you're all curled up in here like a---”
“Alright!”
He slams the book shut with a sigh.
“You can stay. But that means no touching, no reading, and don’t dare think about learning anything.”
“What am I supposed to do? Just sit and stare at all the knowledge I could be absorbing?”
“If you’re here for warmth,” he says, sliding the book back open, “then nothing is all you need to do.”
You huff dramatically and plop down on the wooden floor, dragging a pillow from a nearby chair.
You sit criss-cross, back straight--- legs stretching long--- just enough to make a point.
He doesn’t react.
Of course he doesn’t.
But you know he notices.
Your eyes settle on him. He looks like mythology made real---legs crossed, spine straight, lit softly by candlelight and the glow of storm--- filtered windows. His pink hair casts blush-toned shadows down his collarbones, and the rise and fall of his chest matches the rhythm of the thunder.
You try not to stare.
But honestly?
It’s a view.
The silence stretches on until the thunder rattles the ceiling.
You flinch. Just a bit.
And then your silly impulses take over as a fear mechanism.
You kick your legs straight up and high into the air---holding your behind as a booster. One leg nearly flops over your shoulder and you giggle when you almost crush your own neck.
One heel drops a little too far, grazing Seonghwa's leg.
“Ugh. Children,” he mutters under his breath, shifting his feet beneath the chair with a glare.
You pull your knees to your chest and chew your lip.
“Why are you interested in medicine?” you asks suddenly, without looking up.
He blinks.
“Why should that be your concern?”
“Because I am too,” you say simply. “It’s why I ran away in the first place.”
“Or maybe--- you were just kicked out for your… invasive nature.”
“Oh, please,” you scoff. “Humans are invasive species. Why do you think we ride horses, build mansions in trees, and hijack sacred gardens?”
You grin.
“Fair point. Congratulations. Tell me your tale then, oh obnoxious one. What makes you think you belong here?”
You pause.
And for the first time in a long while, you let your truth unravel.
“You were right about me,” you begin. “I was a lowly servant. My king only saw value in me when it suited him--- his mother, his soldiers, his heirs. Nine of them. Maybe more now.”
“I tended his wife through every lonely childbirth. Helped his mother through sickness, though she called for foreign nobles to replace me every time.”
“But while he left on his ‘quests,’ I stayed. And I read. I cleaned the libraries. Pretended to skim pages for damage. But I read.”
“That’s how I found the first records of the garden. The Garden of Judgment.”
Your eyes meet his.
“I was so excited, Seonghwa. I thought I could help people. That we’d no longer lose anyone to plague or poor crops. But he saw power. Not healing. And when I asked to use it, he branded me a witch.”
His brows twitch by some sort of trigger, but he relaxes his face in seconds to disguise the obvious.
“I was thrown in a cell. Set for execution. I was freed only because his wife pitied me.”
You exhale.
“And now I’m here. Because I still believe this place isn’t just magic. It’s a new world. A new way to live.”
Seonghwa grows quiet for a long time.
Then he closes the book.
Staring straight at you.
“Do you really think I would hand over this garden’s knowledge to cure the sick hearts of your people?”
Your jaw drops.
“Do you know the destruction they've already caused?” he says, voice low. "If you really knew what they were, you’d know… they’re not worth saving.”
Your breath catches. “Then tell me what I don’t know.”
“What’s the point? You’d still care for them. You’d still chase their approval because you are their healer. You’re the only one who ever was.”
You sit up straighter.
“Answer me this, please,” you whisper.
“Are all of my people destructive? Or just the ones who hurt you and what you used to love?”
“What’s the difference,” he mutters. “Warriors. Sick lowlives. They’re all just trying to take what they can.”
“That’s not the same.”
“It is!” he snaps. “It’s just survival. And it’s about time you woke up to it!”
The rain howls harder.
But the room has never felt more still.
///
You had promised to find your own place in the garden.
And so, after that tense night of crackling thunder and quiet philosophy, you set out with a woven basket on your back and fingers that couldn’t stop brushing the leaves like old friends.
The garden responded to your curiosity. Lavender fronds bowed at your touch. Mushroom caps tilted like they were tipping their hats. You gathered a collection of the strangest, softest herbs--- the kind that smelled like sleep and old songs--- and nestled them gently into your satchel.
When the sun began to lower, you crafted yourself a hammock out of twisted vines and laid beneath a thick-armed tree--- the ones you've see before with the eyes. Dozens of them.
You tried to sleep.
But the longer you stared back at those unmoving pupils, the heavier your eyelids grew without issue. As if by magic.
Your body sagged into the woven sling, and a whisper of breath passed your lips.
You didn’t want to sleep right then anymore.
But the garden wanted you to.
…
"The Lake of Replenishment"/ "The Wild Truce"
You stand in a burning field, sword in hand.
A faceless man stands beside you--- strong, trembling. His hand in yours.
The garden around you screams.
Trees are split from the root. Roots bleed.
Someone cries your name.
You turn--- they fall.
Your knees hit the dirt. You’re unarmed. Powerless.
A voice crashes around you like wind in your skull:
Save him.
Save them.
Save us.
A golden figure that shines in gold reduces it power as it glances your way proudly.
Your king.
Kill him.
You wake with a gasp.
The tree eyes are closed--- no longer eyes at all, but jagged scars.
This morning is golden and damp, quiet in a way that feels like mourning. You sit up, groaning. Your body aches, your stomach growls.
And then…
the smell of your underarms?
"Oh god, you stink."
You strip down and stumble into the nearby lake. Same as you saw him in by coincidence. Or maybe the garden runs in circles.
The water welcomes you--- warm like a drawn bath, pulsing gently around your ankles like it knows your name.
You plunge in.
A hiss escapes your mouth as a scab along your back sizzles. The skin seals shut like it’s cooking clean.
You yelp.
Then… laugh.
A wild, relieved laugh.
“Thank you!” you shout into the trees, spinning in the water with both arms raised. “You are amazing!”
A deer peeks out from behind a tree.
Birds scatter into the sky.
A breeze lifts your hair.
You spin again.
But this time--- you trip.
Your heel slips on a smooth stone, and you crash under the surface with a shriek.
You break through, gasping--- but you're not alone.
He’s there.
Seonghwa, fully clothed, lounging on the shore with a smirk tugging at his lips.
“I didn’t think it was possible,” he says slowly, “but you’ve managed to make a bigger fool of yourself than yesterday.”
You sputter, clutching your arms across your chest.
“And you just sat there watching me drown?! Naked?! You absolute perv---”
He leans back on his hands.
“Drowning isn’t exactly a kink of mine,” he hums. “Though I might enjoy doing it to you.”
Your cheeks burn.
“Why is it that you always show up in the most inconvenient, unholy moments of my life?! Don’t you have a secluded tub or whatever to bathe in?”
“A pipeline wouldn’t really make sense in a magical garden not built by man,” he shrugs. “This is my bath.”
“Of course,” you mutter. “Mine, mine, mine. As if you weren’t a selfish grunt cursed to be here for your own idiotic sins.”
You turn, fuming, and dunk your head under.
Then you feel it--- a soft ripple, deeper than before. A current vibrating against your spine.
You glance back.
He’s now in the water.
Half-submerged, slowly gliding closer--- the lake hugging his bronze skin like silk.
His pink hair, now soaked, clings to his cheeks and neck like wet flower petals. The delicate fall of it makes him look rough in the best way. Almost unreal.
“And you’re just sitting there watching me now?” he calls lazily, smoothing his hand through his hair. “Who’s the perv now, squatter?”
You stare.
He winks--- one eye, slow and smug.
“How dare you cross into a woman’s most vulnerable moment and try to shame her for it!”
“You crossed into my garden first.”
“As if you ever deserved it!”
You throw water at his face that lands largely in his mouth.
He blinks through it. Calm. Unbothered.
A bead of water slipped from his mouth as he spat to the side, casual and clean, before dragging his tongue across his bottom lip as if sealing the insult. With both hands, he raked his hair back from his forehead, biceps flexing as the lake shimmered around him.
“I’ve always assumed you were one for child’s play,” he murmurs.
“But was that supposed to hurt? In the Lake of Replenishment?”
You open your mouth to bite back--- but nothing comes out.
You turn around and sigh. Splashing yourself harder now, trying to scrub off the moment.
Minutes pass.
The water rises and falls gently… until it doesn’t.
A heavier wave pushes against your back.
You stiffen.
You hear him--- that near soundless stride--- creeping closer again.
“Why so frantic now?” he whispers.
“Is it because you’re wondering how you’ll leave this lake without me catching… everything?”
His voice is too close.
You freeze.
The cloth you use to wash your neck slows. Your breath halts. His presence hums at your back like a warning.
Then---
Splash.
He’s gone.
You twist around, heartbeat stuttering.
He’s already across the lake, now clothed in his regular nature gear, picking fruit off a tree as if nothing has happened.
“I wondered where your eyes would drift,” he calls out, tossing a berry up and catching it in his mouth. “But it seems you’re curious about everything.”
“Enough with your teasing,” you groan. “I need to get out before I wrinkle. Turn around!”
He turns---slowly.
“Although...” he mutters.
You stomp toward shore.
“Stay there!”
Just as you reach for your ragged clothes---something wraps around your ankles.
Vines. Flowers. Leaves.
Your limbs are lifted gently into the air, suspended by the trees. They work like a tailor’s dream--- weaving shoes, vine-threaded cuffs around your ankles and wrists, and draping a leaf skirt across your hips. Flowers bloom over your chest in perfect placement.
You float back down.
Dizzy. Dazed. Divine.
You catch yourself against the nearest tree, breathless.
Seonghwa watches from across the water, basket in hand.
He doesn’t say a word.
But his gaze lingers.
Not just on your face. Not your body either.
All of you.
“I call truce,” he finally says. “Dandelion greens and berries for a salad. And I can make mushroom over fire taste like peppered steak.”
Your stomach grumbles in betrayal.
You sigh.
You were this close to hunting a rabbit.
Instead… you nod.
“Lead the way, flower boy.”
Together, you walk side by side back toward the treehouse.
Surprisingly… not as enemies.
Maybe not yet as friends.
But allies--- even if only for dinner.
///
“If I just close my eyes a bit…and maybe pinch my nose… I get that steak flavor you mentioned.”
You laugh cheerfully at your own joke, and he just stares at you thinking ‘how bizarre…’.
“Tread lightly there. I gave you most of my delicious rations because you were so starved. I take pride in my mushroom steak.”
“No, of course! It’s absolutely delicious!”
This time, a laugh is shared in harmony between the two of you. Well it could just be the gardens magic playing tricks...
The moment pauses still.
"Thank you for sharing, and…I apologize for you know intruding on- well everything I suppose."
His chewing comes to a slow, he swallows the bits in his mouth and mutters, “I’m still deciding if it was reasonable I guess- my behavior towards you- specifically you.”
You provide him a warm and true smile of appreciation.
"I accept your apologies.”
He nods, as if concluding something.
///
Until the day you could evolve backward and learn from his years of construction, harvest, cooking, and the very place that he can’t escape the bounds of.
You were still in your rescue mission to use this founding in nature to help the wounded and forgotten. But you feel it’s no coincidence that you had to start here.
...
"Breakfast and Burdens"
The morning arrives softer than you'd expect.
No visions. No thorns. Just the smell of cooked berries and toasted bread curling through the hallway like a loving hand, pulling you from sleep.
You blink open your eyes and realize… this place is becoming familiar.
Your bed---if it can be called that---is made of wooden planks, tied together with vines and cushioned with layers of tightly packed cotton, moss, and leaves. Woven by him. A structure that was once his and now, even if temporarily, is shared with you.
Hospitality, you remind yourself. Courtesy. Guilt, perhaps.
But comfort has a funny way of stealing permanence into a place.
You stretch, toes brushing the edge of the frame, and rise.
The scent draws you forward--- rich, fruity, warm.
In the main chamber, Seonghwa stands with his sleeves rolled, carefully spreading what looks like compote over slices of rough-cut sourdough. His brow is low in concentration, smoothing the polished wooden knife from edge to edge like a painter with a masterpiece.
“Morning,” you say, offering a gentle smile.
He flinches ever so slightly, eyes flicking up in surprise. The jelly hits the table with a splat.
“Oh— I’m sorry!” you wince, retreating a little.
“Not to worry.” He chuckles, already scraping the fallen jelly with a fingertip and popping it into his mouth---holding it there with a heavy groan. “Can’t let anything go to waste.”
His eyes close tightly.
“Mmm… You’re missing out standing over there, lady. Plenty more for two.”
You walk over and take a seat on the bench next to where he stands. You pick up another slice of bread with the jelly spread on it and bring it to your mouth. You close your mouth as you bite into it, and your eyes spring back open once you begin to chew it. You thought he was just being tantalizing as he was in the lake yesterday. But your reaction only mimics his.
“Oh my--- I mean I know berries are naturally sweet the darker they are but--- this is… oh, good heavens~.”
He laughs--- a genuine one. Clear and light, the kind that melts the tension around your shoulders.
“You’ve never heard of honeysuckle?” he says with a devilish little smirk. “It’s nature’s sugar. No bees harmed in the making.”
“Honeysuckle… very considerate.” You pause and notice a dab of jelly on your thumb. You lift it without thinking, mouth closing over it gently as you suck it off with closed eyes.
When you open them again--- he’s looking out the window.
Or… trying to.
“I’m thinking today might be a good one to show you exactly where you are,” he says, voice slightly deeper.
“Really?” you beam. “We could go now if—”
“No rush. Finish your breakfast. I’ll pack for us.”
You nod, still smiling.
///
Outside, tucked behind a rock, is a dead rabbit, its soft gray fur still. Your stomach growls.
Seonghwa notices.
He says nothing for a moment, then:
“Nature still runs its course here,” he murmurs.
“To give life, the garden must take it.”
You look up at him, guilty.
“You mean we can eat animals here?”
“Only if the garden offers it,” he says. “We do not hunt. We wait upon death. That was never our nature. Man just made it that way.”
“What happens if we do it anyway?”
He lifts a shoulder.
“A soul for a soul.”
“And as for what happens to us when we die in a place like this… there are some things not even I know.”
You nod slowly.
“From the greens in my basket to the vibrant vegetables in yours---and the rabbit… I think a stew would be comforting tonight.”
He quirks a brow.
“Not much for sympathy, are we?”
“Oh, please. You want it just as badly.”
“Maybe. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind. Beats rotting.”
“Did he tell you that?”
“…”
“Oh, you wicked thing.”
He grabs the rabbit and waves it.
“Come now, say it. ‘You’re going to a very bad place, Seonghwa.’”
“You’re going to a very bad place,” you declare, grinning.
“And I’m coming with you, apparently.”
He laughs and chases you in circles with the rabbit like a kid with a toy sword.
Later that night, the rabbit stew simmers over the fire. The scent is rich and earthy, comforting in a way that feels like home. You sit beside him with a carved wooden bowl in hand, blowing on the edge of your spoon.
“Some delicious rabbit stew from you and I, but I should warn your doctor. It has side effects of hopping with joy when you taste it.”
He laughs--- not teasing, but joyful. Real.
“Oh, we’ll see about that, but I am no doctor... just another troubled woman who aids other troubled people in need.”
The silence that follows is warm.
You offer a soft look. But his is rock hard. His chewing slows.
“How could you be troubled when it seems you have never caused it for the people you have helped?”
He sets the bowl aside and swallows.
“I’ve told you--- I was scrutinized. Nearly executed. My king saw my work as a threat to his authority. I was helping more than he was. Faster. More visibly. While he gallivanted in search of something that was right under his nose… the garden.”
You fiddle with the rim of your bowl.
“If I’d just stayed in my place… just treated the queen and the royal mother and kept quiet---”
“Then everything would’ve fallen into shit,” Seonghwa interrupts. “Royals don’t care for the people. Just their name. Their bloodline.”
“Your king didn’t fear you. He feared being outshone by you.”
He glances at you. His voice softens.
“If anyone deserves the title of queen, it’s you. Not because you were born into it. Because you earned it.”
You don’t speak.
You just… stare.
At this poetic, beautiful, infuriating man with secrets in his eyes and vines in his blood.
You hope, one day, that you’ll help heal the part of him that no garden could reach.
And if that means staying here forever…
Maybe, just maybe…
You’d be okay with that.
Because here, in this quiet moment — you can finally see it.
Not just yourself as queen…
but him.
The king he never thought he could be.
...
"Divided Waters"/ 1 Month Later…
Summer heat poured into the forest like thick syrup--- warm, wet, and heavy.
Bathing in the lake had become your afternoon ritual. Not out of luxury--- out of necessity. The sun’s grip was relentless, and the trees, though protective, couldn’t always cool the skin beneath your collar.
Night bathing might’ve been better. But the Eyelnwood trees---their carved, unblinking eyes--- never let you rest easy after dark. As Seonghwa warned: “If you stare too long, the trees stare back. Be warned: dreams can twist fate here.”
You knew exactly what he meant.
The last time you fell asleep under their gaze, you dreamed of war---of fighting beside a man you think to be Seonghwa— dragging yourself across dirt as your King patrolled the garden like a god. A voice, not your own, had screamed in your head:
Save him. Save Them. Save us. Kill him.
However today, after the lake had cooled your skin, you looked over your shoulder to hear Seonghwa call out:
"Why is it that I always have to come out of the lake first? Can we just accept the fact that we are woman and man and have our parts that the gods have given us?"
"I feel that my body is sacred," you call back. "and if I think that your eyes are undeserving of wandering over it... then let that be."
"So your body is sacred, and mine is just a walking piece of meat on the Earth?"
"That’s all that you men are--- a walking- and frequent talking--- air breathing pieces of meat."
"Are we not also protectors?” He combats. “I’ve protected you after all this time..."
"A lot of women wouldn’t need protection if it weren’t for men who had bring harm to humans."
He snickers, leaning his back on the walls of the lake.
"Well, I can assure you, and evidently I am not one of those men", he said firm.
You rolled your eyes at his words. You’ve been through this before… always lined with an objective. "Why are you so desperately eager to see my naked body?"
"Well, I can see the eagerness in your eyes when I have my casually shirtless attire."
Sigh. "It was the one time that I had seen a tick feasting on your collarbone."
"And you just stared at it for minutes---- swatting at it when I caught you--- just for it to never to come in sight?"
Your eyes narrow when his teeth gleam.
"Out."
"In."
"Out, I say!"
"In, I say!"
The bickering stopped only because you both turned away--- walking to your own sides of the riverbank, slipping behind trees to dress.
You were still muttering to yourself when you turned the corner and caught him standing there, hands behind his back.
"If you think about untying your skirt, I swear to the gods---"
But his expression had changed.
One hand came forward… while the other lowered behind his back. You tried to follow the motion, but the sudden roar of water snapped your attention elsewhere.
You turned--- just in time to see the entire river part before you.
A deep groove carved itself into the earth, rocks and soil exposed at the bottom, fish leaping in panic from the severed current. The walls of water stood like glass on either side, vibrating with tension.
You gasped.
“My gods! Seonghwa---”
“I thought I’d show you,” he said, smiling. “This is---”
“You damned scoundrel! You could’ve parted the river this whole time? I walked around the entire lake barefoot in summer heat for a month--- and now, now, you show off your powers because you wanted to see me naked?!”
“That’s not what I---!”
He breathes in and calms himself after he receives your genuine anger. It was never wise to retort in the same manner---just with any woman---his mother taught him that.
"When you came here for the first time, I thought you were some woman cosplaying as some lowly servant to trick me...and I also wanted you to learn how to live without my help--- in case I couldn’t always be there."
"Except you’re always there, you rat! Who are you to think less of anyone? After all this time you are still stuck in your inconsiderate ways! What the hell was I thinking trying to make you a king!"
You hurled a rock across the shore. It hit the edge of the river with a thud, landing on the ground.
“Wait, what? You wanted me to what, become king---?”
“No! Not anymore. I don’t know what I was thinking, trying to make you anything but the selfish brat you are!”
You stormed off, furious, cutting through foliage you’d never dared to tread alone.
"Come back here! It’s not safe for you out there!"
"I am safe out here! I know everything you’ve taught me dirtbag! I don’t need your protection anymore!"
You storm off deep into the garden, attempting to circle back to the house on a pathway in which you’ve never taken before.
It was always a walk around the lake to his side, and then you both took off back to the house in one direction to eat dinner together. He always carried the basket of food that you were going to eat later for dinner that night.
And that’s what you thought. Maybe you hadn't exactly thought things all the way through.
You were starving--- not to mention lost. You hated to admit it, but with so many trees in sight, it was hard to find the house, although it should've stood out the most.
And no measure of distance--- it was neither here nor far.
You decided to take break--- to think of how to come up with an apology, and return to him.
Fear had settled quickly in because the place you had decided to rest was abundant with Eyelnwood trees.
Your eyelids had grown heavy and your feet began to feel like weights. With fever, you began to weakly sob, calling for Seonghwa in the quiet, hoping he could teleport in your rescue.
“Shit…”
Your legs buckled beneath you, but not before you let out a quiet, trembling whisper.
“Seonghwa…”
You collapsed against a patch of moss, breath shaking, tears prickling at the edge of your lashes. You closed your eyes, too weak to fight it now.
///
You were lying in the sun. Face tilted. Your body hot with fever.
And there he was.
Seonghwa.
He hovered above you, face blurred by the sun behind him. You reached for him, eyes glossy.
“I’m sorry,” you whispered. “I shouldn’t have yelled…”
You touched his cheek. He didn’t lean into it.
But you smiled.
“Stay. Please…”
Then--- he took your hands from his face. Gently. And turned.
He walked away.
You tried to get up.
Your body wouldn’t move.
Footsteps.
Another figure now. A man with golden hair. He moved his face just enough for the sun to shift.
It was the King.
He smiled. “I was wrong,” he said.
You hesitated.
He opened his arms, waiting.
And like a fool, you reached for him.
The perspective shifts as he pulls you up to your feet, and when you’re standing--- his smile uplifts the cheeks on his face---highlighted with the natural warmth of the yellow sun. "I’m sorry I was wrong."
He opens his arms readily for a hug he respectfully waited for you to embrace. Just as your arms begin to come around him--- sharp heat wounds your side.
The knife went in so fast, so smooth, you didn’t register the pain until you saw your own blood spilling from your ribs.
“I was wrong,” he whispered again.
As the world blurred, you saw it. A soft glow of pink in the distance.
The color of Seonghwa’s hair.
Your last thought was a voice in your mind:
Two wrongs don’t make a right.
You wake up with a large intake of the morning air around you. The wall in which you were stabbed was actually a twig that was lying flat, but making a throb into your side.
Breathless, shaking, you whispered:
“What… did I see…?”
And then--- you weren’t alone.
He was beside you.
Seonghwa.
“That dream,” he said softly. “Was it a prophecy? A warning? Or just an echo of what you already know?”
He knelt beside you, checking you over, brushing away damp leaves, eyes scanning your skin.
"How long have you been there?"
When he was sure you were whole, he reached out a hand.
You took it.
“It could be a prophecy---a solution or the saving grace for your people. Whatever it may be, I’ll connect you to it in any way I can. Don’t make yourself stuck here trying to save a life that has already ended.”
He walked ahead, slowly. Waiting for you to follow.
“It was you,” you said finally, voice small. “I believe you’re the one. The connection I need to save lives.”
“Dreams here aren’t always truth,” he murmured.
“They can just be your own thoughts speaking louder than usual.”
“Maybe. But I shouldn’t have walked away from you. I understand now… why you hid your power. Why you didn’t let me rely on you too soon. You wanted me to learn naturally first.”
You looked at him--- and for the first time, he didn’t look away.
“I don’t know what happened to you before this,” you said. “But whatever it is… we’re meant to help each other. Not just now. Maybe always.”
He breathed in slowly.
“The help I once needed… wouldn’t matter anymore. It’s all gone.”
“But what you have left? I’ll help you protect it. That much… I swear.”
The path home is quiet.
No lake.
No trees with eyes.
Just you. And him.
Walking back to a place that--- for the first time--- didn’t feel like just his anymore.
...
"The Fox, the Stone, and the Forgotten Riddle"
You scan the shelves of the library with your finger running along the spines of many books, and you hook your finger on one of many you have been hunting for answers.
“There is nothing that you could find here that would make you use to you outside of this garden.”
“You don’t know that.” You flipped through the pages trying to find information on something you had hoped to be in there. But every source never mentioned the gardens powers breaking its barriers to the outside world.
“And you do?”
In annoyance you shut the book hard, quickly shoving it back into the shelves.
“Belittling me is not the way to help! There has to be something here Seonghwa! You are the connection, but there’s something about us both being here that ties our fates.”
He stops his teasing and let you roam for a little while longer.
A moment to cool off, and then he speaks lowly.
“Tell me what happened in the dream. That could help.”
You stop your frantic search, dropping your hand to a lower shelf--- exhaling a deep sigh.
“It’s not something I want to speak into existence. I was wrong. He was wrong. And you were right.”
A sob chokes you still.
The feeling of dread, seeing him walk away--- and the false hope your king had given you wounded you in the end. Seonghwa waiting in the distance... as those words were spoken into your ear.
Seonghwa comes behind you. A hand claims your shoulder and the other holds your elbow of the arm on the lower shelf.
“I was wrong for causing you to run away, and then to leave you so easily. I know this forest better than you do, but there could be things I’ve overlooked."
"So I’ll trust your intellect, and I’ll be there to support you in your time of need.”
You turn around feeling his embrace fall but you catch his hands before they fall to his sides.
“If you do this... I’ll give you what you’ve been longing for.”
So much that has happened---he wondered what it could be.
“You’ve already had my word.”
“Good...you’ll sleep in bed with me tonight. Clothes will be on of course.”
“I was in the same boat.”
“Sure thing joker.”
He followed you into the bedroom, and you both joined into the mattress with one another since the lake incident.
“Comes sunrise we’ll start devise a plan---", Seonghwa starts. "Come early morning to noon--- we search the gardens. Then early afternoon, for our daily bath-sorry. And finally, we will decompress before a nice dinner for our efforts.”
Seonghwa's arms stretched behind you. You sigh softly and rest your head in the middle of it. “It will be such a delight in the blazing sun.”
“I can make changes to rearrange that”, he whispers into the quiet.
You snicker, your mind leading elsewhere. “What were we talking about again?”
Seonghwa turns toward you with a wild grin. “Oh but if it were me-“
///
When you woke up the morning light hadn’t shined as it used to, and even Seonghwa had been gone. You were confused--- he had usually brewed him a cup of tea, and sat in the library if it was still late at night.
But as you peeped through the window by the door, a shadow had cast a large plant on the ground.
You walk outside to investigate and search for the man responsible. There you saw him on the highest branch climbed by a wooden ladder, overseeing the enormous leaves grown from ground.
"How does it feel in there!? I need to be sure everything’s covered!"
"It’s nice thank you! You should really get down from there! We need to eat our breakfast for today’s work!"
"Of course dear queen, right away!"
"Don’t call me that... it isn’t my place!"
He climbs down from the tree stops, sliding the rest of his way down to ground again.
"Well, this is one of the only places that treated you like home. If not there, you will always be here."
What is this erratic beating in your chest? You oddly feel...excited?
"You say the darndest things..."
"Truth hurts doctor--- can’t put a bandage over it."
///
A map of magic unfolds itself onto the table. It was hidden in the library under forces that only Seonghwa could retrieve it. As you looked it over--- you realize you've only traveled through a mere 10% of the garden's parts.
"What if it’s in the field of Eyelnwood trees?"
"How badly do you care about everything? Is it worth unlocking the thoughts that conjure your worst fears?"
"Well doing nothing is my worst fear. I’ll take a rain check on that other thing."
"Well anyhow...we'll try to find it the best we can. "The Forgotten Riddle."
///
You emerged from the water first, hair clinging to your shoulders, droplets slipping down your spine like molten silver. You didn’t turn.
Behind you, the sound of gentle splashing grew still. Seonghwa lingered in the shallows, the sun casting gold across his bare chest and rose-pink hair. His gaze rose--- hesitating just a second too long.
You knew. Of course you knew.
But you didn’t speak, didn’t scold. You simply gathered your woven garments, still damp from where they’d waited on a stone, and stepped behind a tree to dress.
“Don’t dawdle,” you called out, voice teasing but soft. “Dinner won’t make itself.”
He emerged a moment later, bare feet brushing through moss and sand. His hands held the fabric of his pleated lead skirt, and he circled around the opposite tree. You faced away from each other, bodies nearly parallel, separated only by a few paces and the sacred, unspoken boundary of restraint.
You both dressed quickly, in silence. Neither of you stole a glance. Yet… both of you wanted to.
And it lingered. The tension like a thread stretched taut between two hearts that beat just fast enough to notice.
///
The air inside the treehouse was warm enough to cook thoughts. Every surface felt like it had absorbed a decade of summer and decided to radiate it directly into their skulls.
The food was spread across a flat slab of bark they were both pretending was a table: blistered mushroom steaks, crumbly cow cheese that somehow didn’t kill them, and a bowl of sticky berries that had dyed half their fingers purple.
He raised his mismatched cup— half of an old jar— and clinked it softly against hers.
“To our hot, slowly fermenting survival.”
“It tastes like a bush punched me in the mouth.”
“That’s how you know it’s working.”
Then he pulled out the bone. A flute he created made from the leg of a deer.
“Oh no,” she said. “Not that thing again.”
“It’s art.”
“It sounds like deadly as when it took its fall to the ground.”
“It’s the soul of the forest,” he argued, already raising it to his lips. “Don’t disrespect it.”
He blew into it. A shrill, uncertain note scraped through the air like someone stepping on a frog in a cathedral. It echoed off the walls, bounced into the ceiling, and ricocheted straight into her face.
“That’s the sound,” he said, lowering it with grave intensity, “of a deer realizing it forgot to pay taxes.”
She stared.
“Give it here,” she said, holding out her hand. “I can make it scream better than that.”
“Be my guest.”
And then they passed the bone flute back and forth in the sweltering dark, giggling in bursts between awful honking notes, the mushrooms long forgotten and the cheese slowly melting between you.
///
Over the weeks, the days blurred like brushstrokes on a canvas of moss and light.
Together, you wandered through sacred terrain: waterfalls that cascaded into crystalline basins, their music echoing like ancient lullabies; walls of ivy and vibrant blossoms that formed natural mazes, guiding you to bridges of stone that arched toward the clouds. The garden unveiled itself in pieces— shy, proud, and unknowably vast— as though weighing your worth with each step.
You both took notes, made mental maps, memorized the shape of vines that glowed in moonlight or twisted closed with dusk. There were animals, too: foxes with sunlit fur, frogs that chimed like bells, birds who knew your names before you’d spoken them. Some mornings were spent in awe. Some evenings in silence. Some nights beneath stars, where your knees brushed by accident but neither of you moved away.
And still, the question gnawed:
Why had no one ever stayed?
Had others come before and failed to keep their promises?
Were they banished? Were they judged?
Perhaps the garden wasn’t abandoned— perhaps it had simply been waiting. Testing. And for the first time in a long, long while, it had companions who spoke to it like a friend.
///
You had come to love the heat.
Maybe not the way it stuck to your clothes or made your skin bloom with sweat. But the warmth reminded you that the garden was alive. That you were still alive.
Still searching. Still hoping.
Today, you'd collapsed onto the only patch of cool shade the garden had spared you--- a slab of stone tucked under a massive leaf canopy near the treehouse.
"Oh bless the gods who made stone! Do you think they lived here when they walked on Earth?"
Your voice rose with playful exaggeration as you sprawled across the smooth surface of the shaded slab, arms stretched wide to embrace the cool that kissed your skin like mercy. The stone beneath you was heaven— one of the only things in the garden that offered stillness without condition.
"That would be worthy of the explanation to magic..." Seonghwa murmured, his voice half-lulled, half-lost in thought. He tilted his head back slowly, letting the filtered sunlight trace the lines of his cheekbone. A rare, soft smile tugged at his lips. "But why would they ever leave such a place?"
You scooted a little closer, just enough that your shoulders nearly brushed. Copying his posture, you stared up into the emerald ceiling above, trees whispering like gossiping gods. "To guard the heavens above, of course."
"Or maybe humanity made them flee." His smile lingered, but his tone cooled. It wasn’t a bite— more like a truth, softly spoken to avoid shattering the peace.
You blinked and turned your head toward him, disbelief pulling your brow. "Yeah right, and what would they be afraid of?"
"It's not fear exactly," he said, eyes now narrowing slightly. "Perhaps they were avoidant… afraid of doing something that could cause harm to us."
The words nestled in your chest like a stone. "Why must you think of mankind so wickedly?"
He paused, one hand lazily gesturing toward the distance— beyond the trees, beyond the garden’s quiet breath. "It's years of life experience. Not just being here, but when I was a young boy… out there."
The silence that followed wasn’t uncomfortable— just heavy. You turned your gaze forward again, wondering if the time had finally come to ask.
Maybe you could get away with it now...
"Did you ever have a village?" you asked gently, watching a leaf spiral down in the breeze. "Or maybe a family you could call your own?"
A change passed through him like wind shifting direction. His shoulders, once lax, drew inward just slightly— his neck stiffening, as if bracing against a memory. His fingers flexed once against the stone and curled closed.
"I did," he said at last. "My father was a soldier. My mother, a doctor."
You hesitated. The question trembled on your tongue, but curiosity had a will stronger than fear.
"Had you left them behind to come here?"
His silence wasn’t cruel. It was thick, ancient. He exhaled— slow and bitter— and for a moment, you wished you could take it back.
"I had to leave everyone," he said, eyes forward but seeing nothing. "They were already gone."
His voice dropped, rough like bark soaked in rain. He stood without another word, brushing off imaginary dust from his pants.
"I should check on the oatmeal. We have days of hard work ahead."
You didn’t follow him right away. Instead, you lay there, one arm draped across your forehead, staring into the light trembling between leaves. You felt half-regret, half-satisfaction— as if you’d peeled back a layer only to find a deeper one beneath it. A lot had been revealed… but very little was truly known about Seonghwa.
Inside, you heard the gentle clink of wooden spoons against the pot. He was tending to the oatmeal, just as he said.
But out here — beneath the canopy of branches and mystery — you allowed yourself a few more moments in nature’s rare mercy.
Your eyes shot open. A rustle. A whisper of padded feet on dry soil. You reached for your dagger--- a blade you’d sharpened not for war, but for fruits and herbs--- and crouched.
It couldn’t be anyone or anything that would be the cause of harm, so she doesn’t plan to stab into anything just a safeguard of instinct she’s learned in the world before here.
In honesty she too though humans can be cruel at times.
It wasn’t a man.
It was a fox.
Orange and alert, it crept from the brush, sniffing with wild precision. Not at you, but the ground beside the stone.
It begins with digging right beside it, and it seem eager, determine, even growling and grunting in its wild nature
“...Is there something under there, boy?” you whispered, lowering your blade.
You get up, even trying to lift the stone to help the fox uncover what it was in someway.
"This is far too heavy for me to lift alone. They will take an army of men."
You dropped to your knees, joining the fox’s search, palms shoving soil aside, brushing against something solid.
Stone.
A flat plaque.
Then out came Seonghwa again. He noticed the fox there, and his companion trying to lift heavy block of stone by yourself. It was a situation with no correlation from his perspective and yet he ran over to address the situation.
The fox ran off and fear at his sudden stumbling.
"Wait, no come back. We can help you!"
Yet, it ran off far back to the distance.
"Why are you trying to lift this up? Was it for that fox?"
"Yes, and you scared him away with your heavy stomping you big giant. We have to uncover what’s under here."
"For what reason you know, foxes are like dogs they dig for the hell of it."
"Yes, but they also have a unique sense of smell and I read through its body language that it's something very important. We have to uncover it."
"Well, you’re going to break your back trying to in the process."
"That’s what I have you for dimwit. you have magic power."
"If I move the stone, it will dirty, and we will not have anywhere to lay in the shade."
"Is that all your concern for! Are you not curious as to what will be under here? We have spent nearly two whole months in the wilderness trying to find something we don’t understand! But this could mean something...that fox.... could be trying to tell us something."
"Did it speak?"
“You’re not listening!"
“It’s a flat stone.”
“You’re a flat stone—move it!”
He sighed the sigh of a man who had just burned the oatmeal, but relented. With a single flick of his fingers, the roots below the plaque twisted awake--- thickening, tightening, and pulling. The stone was wrenched from the earth and flung aside like it was never part of it to begin with.
You shielded your face from the clatter, heart pounding.
You leaned forward over the spot.
There it was--- an etched plaque, smooth and ancient. Symbols carved so deep into its face they shimmered with residual magic.
“Can you read it?”
“Stand back.”
Seonghwa lowered to one knee, his hand pressing to the plaque. His eyes began to glow — that soft pink luminescence you’d come to associate with truth, power, and danger.
The symbols on the stone pulsed, one by one, lighting up like embers in the dirt.
Then he gasped.
His back arched, eyes rolling back as magic flooded him in thick, writhing waves. His other hand clutched his head, and a grunt escaped his throat, ragged and pained.
“Seonghwa!”
“It’s fine!” he choked out. “Don’t come closer.”
You staggered back in fear. The plaque had become a beacon, and he was its vessel.
His lips parted, and finally, the riddle spoke--- not in your voice or his, but one borrowed from the forest’s oldest echoes.
The hand that does not seek the crown
Shall carry it.
The voice that shouts will lose the sound
Yet others will hear it.
One walks in fire,
One sleeps in rain,
They must forget to ever reclaim.
Choose the bloom, or choose the blade —
Either way, a root is laid.
Seonghwa collapsed forward, his hands catching him just before his head hit the ground.
You rushed to his side, cradling his shoulders, your voice trembling:
“What... what does it mean?”
He coughed, shaking his head. His fingers trembled as they reached for the dirt.
“It’s a trial. A binding. Maybe even a contract.”
“For what?”
“For the garden to reveal itself fully. To… accept us.”
You look toward the plaque, feeling its ancient code drawing you near. "This feels like a bad horoscope.”
He laughs weakly, picking his head toward the plaque to read it once more. “The hand that does not seek the crown... I mean... that has to be me. I didn’t even want to wake up today.”
“And yet here you are." You rub onto his back. For play. For comfort. "Destiny sucks.”
He exhales a short laugh. “At least I’m not the one who’s walking in fire.”
“No... but you keep following me into it.”
He turns to you, serious now — soft but resolute.
"Well, i've been here for so long..." He slowly turns his head toward you. Half-smiling. Hair plastered to his face--- dirt clinging to his skin like scars. "I think we know what this means for us…don’t you?”
You look back at the plaque--- a sunken fear blooms in your chest.
You nod slowly. "It’s obvious… we have to make a choice here. We can stay here just us two forever in paradise, but we may suffer at a cost. Or... we could continue to fight for them out there, and there’s no doubt our suffering will be guaranteed.
Both choices curses your thoughts---nearly driving you into a headspace of desolation.
A warm palm sends signals to your brain--pulling you out from the deep. A confident man with beauty only found in magical gardens comes into view.
"I’ll help them, even if I have much to live for."
"You and I both then.
You clasp hands shaking it once like a sealed promise.
Suddenly---the ground splits.
Two stone pillars rise from beneath the soil, slow and solemn. Between them: two ancient cups carved from skulls, already tinged red at the base. The forest stills, as if holding breath.
Seonghwa’s head jerks back. His body straightens unnaturally---eyes rolling white.
His mouth moves, but the voice that comes out is not his own:
Blood must bind what fate unwinds,
One in light, one redefined.
Break the seal with crimson thread,
One must bloom where one has bled.
Only then may judgment cease,
And gift the cursed their rightful peace.
He comes back with heavy breathes and you comfort him---turning to the pillars---your eyes widening in realization.
“Skull cups. That could only mean that we can open it through…"
“Blood sacrifice.” He finishes. He’s limp and when you look toward each other---your breaths are dangerously close. “Give me the dagger.”
“What?!”
“It’s what needs to be done, a small slit to the wrist is all we need.
You peer into the cups. They are not small.
“That’s not a cup, Seonghwa. That’s a bowl. We’ll need more than a ‘small slit.’ Can’t we just find a dead animal?”
He tilts his head at you like you’ve insulted the sun.
Your quiet, and he's made his point.
"We’ve made our choice Y/n. it’s futile that we stick to it…for the better future."
You froze.
The fox hadn’t been trying to warn you.
He’d been leading you to your fate.
...
"The Ultimate Test: Fear Fighting"
The garden didn’t breathe. It waited.
You watched as the cups drained the blood — yours and his — without spilling a drop. The earth seemed to drink it in, pulling it into the moss with slow reverence.
Then the stone beneath your feet began to split.
The grass hissed. The vines pulled back.
A staircase revealed itself -- not one, but two, side by side, separated by a thin root wall pulsing with faint pink light.
You turned to Seonghwa. He was staring at the stairs like they’d spoken to him.
“We go together?”
He didn’t answer at first.
“I think… we don’t.”
His eyes trailed the right-hand staircase. Yours were drawn to the left. They looked nearly identical--- same moss-covered steps, same stone rails carved with curling branches and long-forgotten runes.
But they felt different.
Yours hummed with warmth. His shivered with silence.
You nodded. No words. Just a final look--- the kind that says I’ll see you again, even if neither of you were sure it was true.
///
His staircase was colder.
He felt it immediately — the way the air got heavier, the way the roots seemed to close in tighter.
He didn’t speak. He didn’t need to. Because he knew what was coming.
At the base of his path, he found himself standing in the garden — but alone.
No birds. No color. The plants curled away from him like wind was blowing backwards.
It was silent. Wrong.
Then they appeared.
All of them.
The ghosts of those he failed.
People who touched the garden and were lost to it. People who came looking for healing — and were consumed instead.
His mother. A child. A stranger. A version of you, eyes full of betrayal.
“You were supposed to protect us,” the child said.
“You said the garden would save us,” the woman whispered.
“You don’t love them,” your ghost said. “You love the peace they bring you. You’re selfish.”
He dropped to the floor, chest heaving. The vines curled around him like accusations.
“You’re afraid of being seen,” the voices said.
“You’re not a man. You’re a weapon waiting to go off.”
Roots. Vines. Flowers.
All with faces.
All with memories.
Children who asked to play near the garden. Women who prayed in the moss. Men who saw power and tried to take it.
All of them failed. And all of them had trusted him.
They reached for him.
As they covered his entire body, their petals browned and their bodies crumbled to ash, coating the ground below him in gray dust.
Then he saw it.
From their deaths… something rose.
He saw children playing--- not spirits, but living kids. Laughing through the garden paths. Digging in the soil.
You were there. Not ruling.
Teaching.
He saw the way you knelt to help a small child press seeds into the dirt. The way they tugged your sleeve when they didn’t understand. The way you smiled like it wasn’t a burden, but a beginning.
You didn’t wear a crown. But you glowed like someone who earned one. And he saw himself--- seated beneath a tree, vines coiled around his torso like roots reclaiming a relic. He didn’t move. Just watched.
And then… he crumbled too.
His form turned to ash.
And the children didn’t notice.
They ran right over him--- laughing still.
He tried to reach out.
Tried to scream.
“I don’t want to be feared,” he said. “I want to be held.”
“You don’t get to love.”
Then — silence.
One voice remained.
His own.
“I want to be more than what I was made to be.”
The illusions shattered like glass.
He was alone again---but this time, still standing.
A flower bloomed from the wall — yours. It shifted into a bent sword. It appeared ineffective of its use. Like his self introspection turned magic.
He touched it gently, and a path lit upward.
He climbed.
///
The air shifted the moment your foot landed on the final stair.
You weren’t underground anymore. You were home.
Not the kingdom. Not your hiding place in the woods.
But the little stone hut from your childhood--- the one that always smelled like boiled bark and dry herbs.
You stood in the center of it, alone. Then the walls melted.
A soft cry echoed from the end of the hall. You moved toward it instinctively.
The hallway opened into a sickroom--- a memory made physical.
A dozen patients lined the beds. Some were coughing. Some bleeding. Some screaming. All of them stared at you.
And then they began to speak.
But not in pain — in accusation:
“She left to play Queen.”
“She wanted glory, not healing.”
“The King offered her safety. She said no.”
“She thinks she’s different. She’s just another hand with a scalpel.”
You backed away, but the floor fell out.
You landed in a graveyard of flowers.
Each bloom had a dying villager.
Each stem--- snapped as you tried to reach for it.
You bent to touch another--the king--- and it held still.
“They will forget you,” it whispered. “They will rewrite you.”
“No one remembers the helper. Only the hero.”
You fell to your knees, hands digging into soil.
Tears welled in your throat — not from fear, but from exhaustion. From trying to matter without demanding it. From being passed over for praise, for power, for story.
“I don’t want a crown,” you whispered.
“I just want to be enough.”
Tears slip from your tired eyes and into the soil.
One by one, the dying flowers stood back up.
Each color brighter than the last.
Your breath steadied.
From the soil in your hands bloomed a final stem--- thorned and pulsing with pink light.
A staff formed the air to the ground in the palm of your hand.
You stood.
Behind you, the petals rustled like applause.
///
You emerged first — your hands dirty, but calm. Something behind your eyes had changed. Less hope. More steel.
Seonghwa followed.
His steps were slow, like he had to relearn walking.
When he saw you, he didn’t speak. Just looked at you for a long, long moment.
“Did you see it?”
He nodded. “Every part.”
“And?”
“I’m not ready to be the person I want to be.”
"Good." He opened his mouth — then stopped. "That means you’re already becoming him.”
///
When you passed by the lake you smiled fondly, a soak was needed for jumbling thought and uncontainable stress.
"How about we go for a swim?"
You look toward him. Disconnected. Lost. Ruined.
"You go ahead. I really need to attend to a different matter."
"What? Something better than washing your arse?" You joke.
But no indication of even the smallest of smiles. Yet his eyes are darkened, looking past your form in front of him.
The forest of eyelnwood trees looms just ahead, gnarled and unmoving.
“Seonghwa… don’t go in there.” He stops, but doesn’t turn to face you yet. His shoulders are rigid. “You remember what it did to me. What it showed me. What if---what if it doesn’t let you come back?”
"..."
“Then maybe... I was never meant to.”
You step forward, voice rising despite yourself.
“Don’t say that.”
He finally turns. His eyes are calm, but there’s a storm moving behind them.
“I need to understand what I am… beyond what I’ve done. I can’t protect the garden if I don’t first face what it’s been protecting me from.”
“Isn’t that what we’ve already done? The hallucinations, the trials, the pain—we’ve been through it.”
He shakes his head. He takes a step closer. Gently, he reaches out and brushes your cheek with the backs of his fingers.
“That was the garden’s test. This is mine.”
He takes a step closer. Gently, he reaches out and brushes your cheek with the backs of his fingers.
He parts the lake---deja vu arises the same angry feeling when you saw it for the first time. Except you were upset for the wrong reasons.
“You think walking into a forest of eyes will make you more human?”
He looks from the other side and smiles softly. It’s sad. It’s sure.
“No. But maybe… it will remind me how to forgive myself.”
There’s a pause. A breath between you.
And then you whisper:
“Please come back.”
He steps back, toward the trees, eyes still locked on yours.
“I will. Stronger. Kinder. And still yours… if you’ll have me.”
Then the vines shift, and he disappears into the Eyelnwood forest.
...
"Dream of a Thousand Tomorrows"
The sun was still out--- barely.
Seonghwa sat alone near the edge of the Eyelnwood grove, just far enough for safety, just close enough to feel it watching.
His legs were folded beneath him, arms slack over his knees. He could feel the wind shifting. The warmth of the day slipping behind shadows.
He sighed, blinking up at the sky.
Above him, clouds drifted slowly, their bellies dusted with orange light. One of them puffed out with a rounded edge, thin wisps trailing down like tendrils of hair.
It reminded him of her.
He tilted his head. No…
It wasn’t her. It was a blob. But the illusion lingered.
A smile twitched at the corner of his mouth. A laugh tried to form--- but it came out cracked.
He laid down fully, letting his back press into the patchy grass, the scent of dirt and leaves mixing in his lungs. His arm draped across his forehead, shielding his eyes.
He thought of her laugh. Her stubbornness. The way she’d called him out for every selfish, stupid thing he’d said.
She was real. Not like a dream, not like a cloud.
But dreams had power. And that tree… that damned Eyelnwood tree…They said it had roots that reached into the soul.
The night crept in like ink spreading in water.
He sat up again.
The Eyelnwood grove was still. Too still. The eyes in the bark barely visible — unless you stared long enough to feel them blink.
Seonghwa rose to his feet. Rolled his shoulders back.
His voice was quiet — hoarse with old anger — as he faced the nearest trunk.
“Give me your best shot, dammit.”
The branches twitched. The wind stopped. Then, the dream took hold.
///
He’s a boy again.
His mother’s back is turned, her hands glowing green as she treats a coughing child. A knock. Then men in armor. Cloaked in fake humility.
“We only need herbs. We have children, too.”
Her smile is soft. She gives them what they ask.
They take more. They take her.
Flames. Screams. A pyre.
His father's scream echoes through a stone hall.
Seonghwa, hidden behind a tree, watches it all.
Two figures emerge from opposite ends of the flame-lit field.
His father--- shadowed, sword dragging through the dirt.
His mother--- glowing with garden light, weeping flowers at her feet.
They speak to him. But also at each other.
“They’ll burn her. Just like they burned your mother!
That girl you care about--- they’ll call her witch!
They’ll string her up to keep the garden for themselves.”
His mother barges---calm yet pleading.
“If you answer violence with more violence, you become what they fear. She gives life. You give flame. That’s not balance. That’s revenge.”
His father steps forward and brings up a hand shielding Seonghwas mother from any attention.
“They never wanted balance. They wanted power.
So take it from them. Burn it all. Let no one claim her life.”
Seonghwa shakes with struggle. He's always wanted to see his parents together once more, but this was just the worst of outcomes. He aligns with both sides. They are his parents after all.
“But what of your life my star?" His tears burned at that. My star...a name that shined too brightly for him even now. "Burn them, and the garden takes you next.”
This time his father turns to his mother directly. Hot. Fiery. An element that always cause the family heartache.“Let it! I’d rather be a monster than a mourning son again!”
Seonghwa's mother takes her lovers hand, communicating with his soul with a feminine touch
“Then you’ll never be a king. Only a blade. Only a curse.”
Suddenly, their forms twist — bark and light, smoke and vines — and merge.
And standing there, gasping, is Seonghwa. Himself.
But older. Darker. Different.
Two different colored eyes: one glowing pink with garden light.
The other blackened like scorched earth.
“You want answers flower boy?"
An echo of the nickname from your voice.
"You are the answer. There is no right path. There is only the one you choose.”
Then---the vision splits:
One version of Seonghwa walks alongside the woman he's falling for.
Children run barefoot across moss. A treehouse glows with laughter.
They kiss by the lake. He tucks flowers behind her ear. He is at peace.
The other version is absent.
She is queen. Alone. Crown in her lap.
She weeps in silence.
A second crown rests beside her--- one never worn.
His.
The vision ripples in effect, the distraught futuristic version of himself growing rot.
“Choose her and surrender the garden.
Choose the garden and lose her forever.
Choose the kingdom and wear the crown of ash.
Choose nothing and fade like a ghost.”
Then silence.
The visions all turn and stare at him. Even the happy ones.
“What kind of man will you become? What kind of world will you build?”
His double brushes away in particles by wind with a final saying:
"She's waiting. They all are."
He jolts awake, drenched in sweat. The Eyelnwood tree pulses behind him, its bark faintly glowing like it absorbed the dream too.
You find him then at dawn, his back slumped against the tree as if he’d been crushed by it.
He doesn’t even hear your footsteps at first. His eyes are half-lidded, distant. Palms flat against the soil, like he’s trying to steady the earth.
You hesitate. “Seonghwa?”
His head jerks up.
He’s pale. Sweaty. Eyes bloodshot. There’s a trembling in his jaw like something is still screaming inside of him.
“I saw them,” he whispers.
You crouch beside him, one hand cautiously reaching toward his shoulder. He doesn’t pull away.
“My mother… My father… They were both there. Fighting like devils. One trying to protect me… the other trying to empower me from hurt. And then they—” He swallows, hard. “They became me.”
He breathes like he’s choking on memory. “I saw two futures. One where I stay in this garden. I loved you. We… we had build something, raise children, we laugh, we live. But the other… The other was empty. You were queen. Alone. And I was… gone.”
You open your mouth, but he keeps going, voice hoarse but desperate.
“My mother--- she was the healer of her village. She tended the garden like a sacred text. But the king’s grandfather… he faked an illness. Had her brought to him. Then he burned her as a witch. They didn’t want her knowledge. They wanted her gone.”
You feel your chest tighten.
“My father tried to take justice into his own hands. Burned down their church, their people. He told me to run if he didn’t come back.
"I did." He chuckles in disbelief. "I ran.”
He looks at you then, raw and cracked open.
“I’ve been running ever since. I ran here to burn it down to ashes. No one could try and take it anymore, and I would go with it.”
A pause. The morning breeze cuts through the quiet.
He leans forward, forehead resting lightly against yours.
“But I don’t want to run anymore.”
You close your eyes. His voice is barely above breath.
“I want to stay. With you. But not just to survive this garden. I want to be worthy of it. Of you. Of a future that doesn’t end in flames.”
His hand moves to cup the side of your face.
“Tell me… If it comes to it—if the kingdom must change or fall—would you still want me beside you? Even if I’m broken, cursed, or bound to this place forever?”
You don’t answer with words.
You lean in, pressing your forehead tighter against his, both your eyes closed, and whisper, “ You my darling must understand...there is no future without you in it. We make our future. Together.”
His lips tremble---his eyes gloss like a life had been brought back from the inside.
He then he kisses you. Gentle. Long overdue. Not perfect or planned, but trembling with honesty.
It wasn’t the final kiss of a tale—it was the first of something neither of you had yet written.
Together you were determined that tomorrow would be the beginning of a story told for the rest of time.
🐈⬛~🎀 SUMMARY: The plan to push Broker out is finally in motion, but trust doesn't come easy anymore. Wooyoung starts watching Yunho too closely— not out of malice, but caution. But just as the tension cools and closeness returns, a message arrives. And in a single moment, everything they’ve built starts to feel fragile.
🐈⬛~🎀 A/N: Leaving you guys with a cliffhanger like that was SO disrespectful. Don't be upset with me dreamcatchers...mommy's feeding you some fantasy content sooner than you think ;))). Thank you so much for continuously showing love while I was gone. 2 more episodes AT THE LEAST.
🐈⬛🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾
The lighting is soft but sterile.
Wooyoung sits upright, a palm flat on the conference table, while the other soothes his clenching jaw. The rolling leather chair beneath him stiffen its wheels with the uncomfortable tension.
Across from him, Broker paces slowly, polished shoes clicking like a metronome of manipulation.
“You’re a sharp one, Jung. Quick thinker. Loyal, too.” He stops his heel-toe marches, leaning a ring clad knuckle on the table, leveling a untelling gaze at Wooyoung.“But I’m curious. What exactly is your relationship with Mrs. Hart?”
Wooyoung’s posture doesn’t shift, but his jaw tightens slightly. A flick of tension under his calm façade.
It was appreciated that Brokers distance in this meeting remain the same as the last. If it had not been so, the rhythm of his panicking heart would tell Broker all he needed to know.
“Professional. We work well together.”
Which of course, is as far as the truth goes- on its most basic levels.
Broker hums, not quite unconvinced. He straightens and begins a slow circle behind an empty chair straight across Wooyoung’s position. Once again he moves his feet, heel to toe, and his voice takes on the same calculated rhythm.
“The two of you…” Broker began, spreading his hands with theatrical calm, “synchronize like dancers.” He let the words settle. In the stale air for his kicker. “That kind of harmony’s rare… and dangerous.”
Wooyoung’s brow furrows, ever so slightly. It wasn’t just the words that ticked him off— it was how Broker refused to sit still. Like they weren’t equals, but prey and predator. All Broker has said seem to have a double meaning, and it wracked Wooyoung’s head to not have clarity.
“Loyalty’s a slippery thing in this business. Personal warmth can cloud professional judgment.”
Per example.
“So I’ll ask again, Mr Jung: Is your allegiance to this company, or to Mrs. Hart?”
Wooyoung’s gaze finally reached Broker's through his wandering. It was a daring question meant to cause a bodily reaction, but what was more dangerous was how Wooyoung remained still, cool, and direct. “I believe I’d need clarification about what’s happened for you to ask that, sir.”
Broker doesn’t respond immediately. He walks to the espresso tray near the cabinets, pours himself a cup, and speaks over the gentle hiss of steam. “Just observing patterns. That’s all.” He flips a switch to terminate the stream of brown liquid roast, looking over at the additives to which he opts out of.
'He likes it bitter', Wooyoung thought. 'In every aspect it seems.'
“From what I understand… Mark Lee served under Mrs. Hart for eight years. I recall him as steady, quiet, safe.”
He sips. “Then comes you— young, assertive, magnetic. They’re fair qualities that compliment your character quite well. But, I suppose I could assumed the connection with Mark ran deeper.”
“I earned my position. In fact, I saw Mark's explosion when he didn't get his way.” Wooyoung sits up, his voice raw-cutthroat. "I suppose we recall him in different ways."
Broker chuckles, leaning backward as his arm brushes on the counter. “No doubt. But if I may…”
"Oh…as if you wouldn't dare anyway? You made it this far…"
He pushes his steaming cup forward towards the man across him in a toast, settling it aside on the marble.
“Men, are natural-born leaders. It’s in our wiring. Not to say Mrs. Hart isn’t capable— clearly, she is— but logically…”
He juts his bottom lip as he ponders in thought, shifting his hands as if he was in the kitchen of a pizza shop. “You have the clarity. The foresight. The spine. I believe you could steer this company in a truly promising direction.”
Wooyoung says nothing at first. It was unusual for him not to be outspoken of the immediate thought that processes in mind, but in this particular situation, with such a peculiar man, his word choices were a reflection of himself, and you as well.
“With all due respect, sir. I follow Mrs. Hart, because she’s the one worth following.”
A charged silence fills the room.
Broker at that watches Wooyoung closely. Then a slow smile unfurls, as if he was amused and weirdly satisfied with the answer he received. He swallows the remainder of black coffee in his cup and advances his stride forward to Wooyoung who stands tall to finish the meeting as adjourned.
“As long as you know where you stand, and what you’re capable of- you’ll be alright with me.”
The proceeding handshake last longer than needed. Firm grips were exchanged with prolonging eye contact. It seemed like a warring challenge oddly spoken through demeanor.
“Good talk, Mr. Jung. I’ll see you at the event.”
Broker adjusts his cuffs with one last flick of arrogance. He makes for the door at a steady pace.
But Wooyoung rises before he can reach it— not a rushed movement, but one filled with intent. He steps around the table, reaches the door first, and opens it for Broker.
A silent boundary.
Broker pauses, clearly clocking the move. His smirk returns, tighter this time.
“Ever the gentleman.” He murmurs dryly.
Wooyoung doesn’t answer. Just holds his gaze.
Broker walks past him coldly. As he disappears into the hallway, Wooyoung doesn’t return to his seat. He waits — watches— until the elevator dings at the end of the corridor.
Only when the doors close and Broker is gone does he exhale.
But then— a faint ringtone echoes behind him.
A buzz from the phone on the meeting room wall— the internal line from the executive floor. He turns his head toward it, the screen words present in bold.
“Ms. Hart”, flashes across the panel.
He crosses the room in long strides, and taps the call button.
“I’m on my way down.”
///
You’re sitting at your desk, a manila folder open in front of you with Brokers name on its tab, though your eyes haven’t moved across the page in several minutes. You were too anxious of Brokers lingering presence tainting your office.
You lean back in your chair, crossing one leg over the other, trying to steady your thoughts. Something has shifted. You can feel it— a dragging pressure behind your sternum.
And you know Broker has something to do with it.
The door opens. You don’t look up right away— your gaze remain fixed on a page, one that’s long since stopped making sense.
Wooyoung steps inside, slower than usual. He closes the door behind him with a soft click and rests against it briefly before approaching. “He came here, didn’t he?”
There’s a pause. You finally raise your eyes to meet his.
“Yeah. Just left.”
You lean back in your chair, folding your arms as the longest sigh drags the air from your lungs. “What did he want?”
Wooyoung pauses, then begins carefully“He said he was… curious about our relationship.”
Your eyes blow wide as they meet Wooyoung’s facial expression--- hesitant and cautious. He pushes his hand forward in the air to calm your panic. “As in- how we operate as copartners.” It seemed to work as the tension slips off your heightening shoulders. “But then he questioned my position and where my loyalty lies. The specific kind of trust we have for each other.”You scoff, flabbergasted by the audacity. “Tried to make it sound like concern for the company.”
Wooyoung clung to the wall for dear life. Every word angered you visually---even after you were caught by surprise from a false alarm.
You sit upright---narrowing and boring your sight of Wooyoung’s deeper--- arms crossed firm in your lap. “And what. Did you. Tell him?”
Wooyoung folds his own arms in himself, feeling exposed and unusually reserved. But for you, he uses the power of his true and charming words. “That we work well together, and that itself doesn’t need to be scratched from underneath the surface.” Then he adds, unveiling the passion unspoken about you two as a pair. “That I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t believe in what we’re doing. If I didn’t believe in you, Y/n.”
At the least he felt relieved, it was a light truth. His priority was to not make you feel as heavy and stiff in that meeting room as he did.
Your jaw tightens slightly from lingering frustration and brimming tears. “Y/n” he spoke. But you were so frustrated and confused. The realms of reality where he spent countless nights until dawn in your office with enough coffee and tea for a cafe--- leaks into the forefront of your brain. Or the time he offered his body to be the caretaker of your pent up stress. Or the 7 days and 6 nights you supplied the villa you shared with a long ranged beach to be wild and free, with no bounds in between.
Wooyoung watches the gears brush up another from the outside of your mind.
“You’ve been in my court before I laid eyes on you." They flicker to him like a Kit-Cat Klock. "He’s intruding on our turf and has no defense. Don’t let him corner you.”
Wooyoung nods with certainty and determination. “He won’t be given the chance. I’m the mighty trusty mini bitch sidekick.”
You uncross your arms as a chuckle rumbles in your chest, but you don’t drop your guard.
Not entirely. “Did he say anything about Mark?”
Wooyoung seams to be visibly re experiencing the same emotion he felt in the room at the name he never knew to bite him back. “He mentioned him…”, he mutters bitterly. “Compared the tenure. Wondered if that meant I was here with the same intentions. He didn’t say it, but… he implied a lot.”
“Of course he did.” You whisper quietly, biting deeply at the skin of your lip. The silence hangs between you. Finally, you stand, moving closer to him in a caring manner. You bring your hands up to his biceps, running them up and down his thick sleeves. “I need to know if anything he said… got to you.”
Wooyoung’s jaw works for a second— not from guilt, but careful calculation. “It didn’t change anything. But I’d be lying if I said it didn’t make me think.”
You inch closer and shake your head, your eyebrows scrunch as your face etched in concern. “Think about what?”
“About how fast this has all moved.” He reaches behind himself to twist the blinds on the windows to a complete shut, claiming your waist in his hold. “About how I never want anything— anyone— to get between us, and what we’ve built.”
Your posture stiffens, guarded, but your breath eases out just a little.
“Good. Because we’re going to need to be on the same page for what’s next.”
Wooyoung nods once, sure and steady.
“We will be.”
You believed Wooyoung— of course you did. But you also knew men like Broker carried criminal slickness in their tongues. And it made you wonder… if Wooyoung ever believed in anything that sounded like a white lie.
….
The evening air was crisp as Wooyoung stepped out of the company car, adjusting the cuff of his tailored suit. The valet gave him a polite nod as he passed, and the muted hum of classical music drifted from the event hall doors ahead.
This wasn’t paparazzi and champagne fountains— it was quieter than that. Clean lines, Assistant CEO Wooyoung in all black, and murmurs between power heads in tailored silhouettes.
The Business Elite--- where reputations were cemented over wine glasses and strategic handshakes.
Wooyoung glanced at his watch before heading in. He wasn’t nervous. Just alert. Tonight was important.
Across the lobby, he spotted you already mid-conversation, the shimmer of your gown catching in the lobby lights. Your laugh— polished, charming— cut cleanly through the chatter. You looked completely in your element.
He smirked faintly, then straightened his tie to clear his throat and mingle.
As the evening progressed--- Wooyoung found himself by the bar sipping a whiskey neat. He felt a tap on his shoulder, and turned to see Yunho, dressed in a sharp baby blue suit, a mischievous grin on his face. "You clean up nice Mr.Jung."
Wooyoung's smile remained fixed, but there was a slight tightening around his eyes as he replied to Yunho. "You’re not too bad either, Mr.Jeong. I trust you're enjoying the event?"
Yunho's grin widened, seemingly oblivious to Wooyoung's subtle iciness. "Oh, absolutely. The food's fantastic, the company…well, it could be better, but it's not bad."
"I agree…" Wooyoung's gaze shifted past Yunho' shoulder, spotting you gesturing him over. You were surrounded by a group of high-ranking officials, their faces engaged as you eloquently spoke. Wooyoung swigs back his last drop of whiskey before settling it on the counter. "Excuse me, Yunho," Wooyoung said, his tone cooler than before. "Duty calls."
Yunho watched Wooyoung walk away, a thoughtful expression on his face. He turned back to his own drink, pondering the subtle tension he had sensed between Wooyoung and you. Shrugging it off, he decided to focus on his own conversation, ordering another drink as he scanned the room.
Wooyoung joined you, sliding into the conversation with ease. "…and that's how we managed to reduce our carbon footprint by 30% last quarter," you were saying. The officials nodded approvingly, impressed by your environmentally conscious practices. The officials welcomed Wooyoung warmly, praising your duo's recent business achievements. As the conversation wrapped up, the officials excused themselves, leaving the two of you alone for a moment.
You let out a soft sigh, your shoulders relaxing slightly. "I saw you talking to Yunho. Is he doing alright? I know he was hesitant on coming," you worriedly asked, a slight furrow in your brow.
Wooyoung's expression remained neutral, his voice carefully measured. "He seems to be. Enjoying the event, at least. He feels the same way about who makes the event as we do." He paused, his gaze flickering towards where Yunho was now engaged in animated conversation with a group of young entrepreneurs.
You followed Wooyoung's gaze, relieved to see Yunho laughing and smiling with others. You turned back to Wooyoung, reaching out to gently grasp his arm. "Have you seen Broker?”
Wooyoung's expression remained neutral, his voice carefully measured. "Broker? No, I haven't seen him since I arrived. Why…are you worried about something?" He glanced around the room, his gaze sweeping over the crowd of guests before returning to your face.
You bit your lower lip, your eyes flicking back to where Yunho had been standing. "I just…I thought I saw him talking to Yunho earlier. It's probably nothing," you said, shrugging it off nonchalantly.
Wooyoung's eyebrows furrowed slightly as he processed your's words. He glanced towards Yunho again, noticing that the young entrepreneur was now alone, his attention seemingly absorbed by his phone. "Perhaps it's worth looking out for." Wooyoung said, his tone hinting at a growing unease.
You hesitated, torn between your desire to trust Yunho and the nagging feeling that something was amiss. You looked at Wooyoung, seeing the concern in his glare. "You're right," you said, taking a deep breath. "But we’re have a presentation to share to these folks--- let’s put our focus toward that.”
Wooyoung nodded, understanding the importance of maintaining their professional composure in front of the investors. "Agreed," he said, his gaze never leaving Yunho' solitary figure across the room. "Shall we proceed with the presentation?" He turned to you, offering his arm as a gesture of support and solidarity.
Wooyoung's face broke into a warm smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he escorted you to the stage. As they took your two places behind the podiums, the chatter in the room died down, and all attention turned to the pair of you. Wooyoung gave your hand a reassuring squeeze before you began.
You took a deep breath, your voice ringing out clear and confident as you began the presentation.
"Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for joining us tonight. To formally introduce ourselves, we are Wooyoung and Y/n Hart of the 'Better Business Company.' A moment of silence encourages the need for applause. "We stand here tonight…to unveil a project that we believe will revolutionize the way we approach global sustainability in business."
Wooyoung stepped forward, his deep voice resonating through the room. You glance and smile into the audience--a blur of faces in the burning light. Better off that you look at your business partner, and…well any label couldn't fit your personal---thing. He shouldn't sparkle in the light this way. Or maybe it's the way you're seeing him. He gestured to the large screen behind him, where a sleek infographic began to display.
As Wooyoung delved into the technical aspects of the proposal, you fielded questions from the audience with grace and poise. Your passion for the project shone through in every response, captivating the investors. The presentation flowed seamlessly, a perfect blend of Wooyoung's analytical expertise and your charismatic leadership--- concluding its end in applause.
Suddenly, a figure steps aside from the gathering crowd, and appeared to share the spotlight, Broker.
Broker's entrance caused a ripple of whispers to spread through the room. His eyes darted between Wooyoung, yourself, and the investors, a smug smile playing on his lips. He waited for a lull in the presentation before approaching the stage, his steps invading and deliberate.
"Excuse me, if I may interrupt for a moment," Broker said, his voice loud enough to catch the attention of the entire room. You and Wooyoung exchanged a brief, puzzled glance before nodding your consent. "I couldn't help but overhear your impressive presentation…"
Broker continued, "and I must say, your vision for sustainability is nothing short of revolutionary. However, I couldn't help but notice that you've overlooked one crucial aspect in your proposal." He paused dramatically, letting the tension build before dropping his bombshell.
You tilt your body toward him with focused attention. "And what might that be?" you asked. Your voice is cool and composed--- despite the anger simmering beneath the surface. You'd always found Broker's condescending attitude infuriating, and this interruption was no exception.
Broker's grin widened, clearly enjoying the opportunity to upstage you. "Well… where do I fit into all of this?" he said, feigning innocence. He turns to the crowd with bustling laughter, his expression calculating.
Murmurs rippled through the investors, many of them exchanging curious glances. Wooyoung stepped forward, his expression unreadable. "And what role do you envision for yourself in our project, Mr. Broker?" he asked, his tone measured.
Broker's smile turned shark-like, his eyes glinting with greed. "I represent one of the largest and most powerful business conglomerates in the world, with extensive global influence. I see an opportunity here for a mutually beneficial partnership. Together, we could accelerate your project's implementation tenfold."
In other words: I don't have a fucking clue. But i'll use big words to make myself sound like I do.
You leaned forward into the mic grip tightened on the podium, your knuckles turning white. You could feel the weight of the investors' gazes, waiting for your response. Beside you, Wooyoung's expression hardened, but his voice remained calm. "And what, exactly, would this mutually beneficial' partnership entail, Mr.Broker?”
Broker spread his hands wide, as if presenting an obvious solution. "A majority stake in your company, of course. With our resources backing you, there'd be no limit to what you could accomplish. And in exchange, I'd expect a seat on the board and a say in the project's direction."
In other words: Let me in. You need me. Give me a role in your sacred business, and i'll gaslight you to hell.
The room fell silent. You and Wooyoung exchanged a tense look, your mind's racing. Selling out to Broker would guarantee your project's success, but it would also mean sacrificing your vision and control. It's obvious and thought through in fact. You took a deep breath, steeling yourself to reject his offer publicly.
You puff out your chest and stood up. The audience saw you speaking to them all, but Broker saw it as--- 'her attention has been reclaimed as only mine.'
"Mr. Broker… we appreciate your enthusiasm and the resources you're offering.
You beckon Wooyoung over with a double glance of your side.
"However…we need to carefully consider the implications of such a partnership. We'll need some time to discuss this among ourselves--- and with our potential investors here of course." You smile and swoop an open palm to the piercing pairs of many eyes-- smiling politely, firmly.
Broker's smile didn't waver, but the glint in his eyes sharpened. He'd obviously expected some resistance. But it still hurt. "Of course, of course. I understand the gravity of such a decision. Let's say… one week? I'll have my legal team draw up the preliminary documents." He laughs out into the audience again, commanding reaction as if he were acting on a sitcom.
Wooyoung stepped forward, taking charge. "This is becoming a bit more private, sir. We'll review your proposal and convene again in a week's time. Let's keep the lines of communication open, Mr. Broker."
Broker nodded, darting between the team you make, trying to gauge some extensive correlation. "Excellent. I look forward to our next meeting." With that, he gave a curt nod to the room and strode out, his expensive suit rustling with each step.
…
As the door closed behind you to the front lobby, Wooyoung let out a sigh of relief. "That went as well as could be expected." He turned to you, removing his blazer and pushing aside his bangs with the point of his finger.
"What thoughts are eating you right now? I'm jealous." He asked, sitting on the arm of a non-comforting fainting sofa you rested in until you saw your car from the valet in front.
Your expression remained stoic, but a flicker of amusement passed through your eyes. "He's a sly one, that's for sure. But we played it perfectly. We gave him hope without committing to anything." You turned to Wooyoung, a hint of a smile playing on your lips.
Wooyoung returned it, relief washing over him. He moves to sit next to you---leaving a unsuspicious amount of spacing. "You were brilliant. The way you handled him… We'll have to keep him on a tight leash though. Men like him don't take well to rejection." He paused, his gaze intensifying. "We should be careful.”
Your face sunk in thinking about the exhaustion you'd feel--- all to scrub this dirt clinging to your backside. "I agree. But for now, let's string him along. We'll review the proposal, make him believe we're considering it. But when it comes to signing… we'll find a reason to back out."
Wooyoung nodded, his eyes glinting with determination. "And in the meantime, we should reach out to other potential investors. Diversify our backing. The more strings we have to our bow, the less leverage Broker will have."
You nodded in agreement. "Good thinking. Let's not put all our eggs in one basket. And who knows, maybe one of these other investors will be the key to keeping Broker at bay." You paused, your expression turning thoughtful. "We should go outside now. Yeosang is coming close here on my apple watch. Only then can we get the fuck out of here.”
Wooyoung glanced at his watch, nodding. "Jongho is just right behind. He straightened his tie, composing himself with a small crack of his neck. "I'll see you at your place tonight?
You mirrored his actions, smoothing out your dress and adjusting your hair. "You'll be there." you confirmed, flashing him a confident smile. Together, you stepped back into the more respirable air outdoors , slipping seamlessly into your drivers cars with the roles of poised entrepreneurs, leaving the tension of your private conversation behind.
///
You switch side to side in the mirror, marvelled at your dress- or rather you in it. Wooyoung would agree.
A ring at your door alarms you that he's here. Irksome having to be dropped off at home just to get in his car to drive to you. But when he sees you still in that dress---it's worth every raging mile.
"About time that you rang."
You pull him in quickly and shut the door--- reaching up to trace the curve of Wooyoung's jaw for a small moment, your touch gentle and loving. "I never could have done it without you," you said, your voice soft with emotion. "You're my partner… in every sense of the word." You looked into his eyes fondly, oddly, yours shined with tears of happiness.
Wooyoung's heart melted at the sight of it, his thumb automatically brushing away the drops that escaped. "And I never could have done it without you," he replied, his voice thick with feeling. "You're the spark that ignites everything, the missing piece that makes us whole."
“Ugh…was that champagne got some sort of sap drug in it or what?” you joke. "My period had just gone off."
Wooyoung barked out a laugh, the tension breaking as your joke hit the mark. "Must be the 'post-freedom' effects of the champagne," he quipped back, waggling his eyebrows comically. "Beware, it may cause severe outbreaks of sappiness and uncharacteristic displays of affection."
You rolled your eyes good-naturedly, playfully punching Wooyoung's arm. "Shut up," you said, but you were smiling as you pulled him into the living room for drinks--- leaning into his side on another sofa once more.
Not even two sips later…
“Oh gosh, this is nice. But I really don’t want to be hungover after this headache of a moment in our business lives.”
You snickered and nodded in agreement, holding your glass up to the light and studying it critically, setting it back down untouched. "We'll have to find another way to celebrate tonight. Bummer."
Wooyoung leaned his head back toward you, a grin turned mischievous, an idea forming in his mind. He leaned close to your ear, whispering something that made your mind come to a slow--- a predatory smile spreads across your face from a followed rush. "Well, then," he said, his voice low and suggestive.
Without word, you set his glass aside and took his hand, your thumb tracing circles on his palm all the way to the bedroom.
You sat on the bed with him resting on its edge, searching deeply in his eyes in shyness because:
“Category C…?” What’s that?”
Wooyoung's sparkled with mischief and understanding. "Category C stands for…cuddling my beauty." he purred, fingers walking up your chest. "Intense, all-night, can't-get-enough-of-each-other cuddling."
“That’s mild…, especially for the both of us. But it doesn’t sound all too bad. Are you sure that’s all you want? This is rare baby.”
Wooyoung grinned wolfishly, leaning in to nip at your chest. "Oh, I'm sure," he assured you. "I want to spend hours just holding you, feeling your heartbeat against mine. And who knows… maybe we'll get creative with the whole 'cuddling' thing…"
"Mmm, I like the way you think." You pet his hair softly--- his nips turn into wet kisses traveling along your neck. "We'll start with Category C, and we'll see where the night takes us, deal?"
"No pressure at all," Wooyoung agreed, his voice low and sultry. "We'll take things nice and slow, savoring every moment." He was being slick. The tortured had learn from his torturer.
He captured your lips in a deep, sensual, short-ish kiss, pouring all his desire into it. Your hands slid under his white shirt, caressing the rippling muscles of his back.
“Can I be the big spoon?”
Wooyoung chuckled softly against your lips. "Mmm, I thought you'd never ask," he murmured, reluctantly breaking the kiss. "Let's get comfortable, shall we?" He stood, effortlessly lifting your in his arms and carrying you to the head of the bed. He slips your shoes off into the floor.
You giggle while being thrown--- watching as Wooyoung skips around in jumps in himself. He turns to his side and snuggles backward until he feels your soft chest. He grabs your hand a placing him where he wanted them to be: his hair, and surprisingly to you, his belly, rubbing soothing circles.
Wooyoung sighed contentedly as you spooned him, your warm breath tickling the back of his neck. "This is nice," he murmured, his voice slightly muffled by the pillow. "I could get used to going to sleep like this."
“When your on the receiving sides of things it always nice." He pouts at that, whining as he intertwines your hands. You laugh breathily, "I like it too.”
Wooyoung's hand covered yours, stilling your soothing circles on his belly. He guided your hand lower, until your fingers grazed over the trail of hair leading down from his navel. "You know, for a category C night…"
“Mhmm?” You piques, waiting for Wooyoung's follow up.*
"…we're still wearing far too many clothes," he finished, his voice dropping to a low rumble. Wooyoung rocked bum against your crotch teasingly, his voice dropping to a low rumble. "Let's remedy that, shall we?" You begin to start on yourself, but Wooyoung takes over--- unzipping that tiny little zipper that gave you hell earlier this afternoon. “How about those hairpins?”
You look at him astonished just completely baffled. “How do you know about those?”
"Well it was just that that I heard you cursing to yourself earlier while I watched you behind the door in the bathroom mirror."
"You little creep", you scoff. "I’m so impressed." He clicks his teeth on one side of his mouth, shooting an intimation of a gun with his fingers. "There’s 12 I think.."
You managed to find them all located in the back of your head In the short amount of minutes. “That’s 12.” Wooyoung looks up and pulls at the front of your head. “13, dearest. He laughs giving your forehead the chastest kiss.
You undo his clothing in favor, and Wooyoung’s the first to pull you both back into the previous position.
Them comes in a beat of silence that feels all too serious. As if nothing truly were going to happen afterward.
“Y/n…can I ask you something serious?”
And judging by the calling of your first name. And the twiddling of his thumbs. It had to actually be serious.
“If you have to ask permission baby, I’ll allow it anyway. What’s going on?”
“Will we have sex?" A beat. "Like the whole nine with me inside you."
Two. Beats.
"Is it… too soon?”
You sat up. Lying your face onto the side of his---syncing your breathing to calm the moment.
“That is… seriously something", you whisper. "But… I’m willing to do anything sexual it is with you. Don’t forget that you started this, and i'm the one that fell for you before I fell for parts of you. Is that want you what?That kind of permission?"
The twiddling of his thumbs stop their movements. The heat on his face burns with intensity.
"Uh ye--- yeah." You just said though… you fell for me?"
"I did?" Your eyes furrow--thinking to when you--- oh! "Yes… I believe I did." You shrug your shoulders in careless admittance, and then you smiled. “You know, I’m older. My mind is far more connected to my heart than it’s ever been. You have my permission Woo."
His chest expands with air--- a laugh burst out in disbelief. He raises your hand to kiss it firmly. “I’m gonna ruin Category C night."
"Uh it was getting ruined by me too since the start."
He releases your hand and you feel him move upward. You lift your head to let him make comfort in hiw own way, but that landed you on your back, and him---hovering over you.
"I'm going to ruin you too." He kisses your nose. "In a good way of course."
"Of course."
A moment to look at each other in a different view delays all activity.
"Is it too soon to say I love you?"
A short breath comes out before you're rendered speechless.
"Is it too soon to say I love you back?"
His eyes darken, and swell as he locks onto you.
"I’m going to obliterate you. But just know I love you too."
He kisses down and warms you up--- swirls and curls of his tongue to your nipples before biting and pulling one upward--- snapping it back to rest on your chest.
Right down the line of your torso, he pulses those muscles to a flex. Once his face reaches in alignment with your cunt--- he spits on it so dirtily, moving circles around your clit in an instant, and down the lining to your entrance. “Like you really needed that anyway. You’ve always been wetter than rain, woman.”
He lowers his face onto yours closing in as if he were going to give you a kiss. And just when your skin came in contact, so did he within.
A deep, guttural, strong, and a particular vein drives pressure along the ceiling of your walls. His mouth opened in a groan over your whimpering lips. With a menacing chuckle--- he then kissed you softly, shushing you calmly.
“You feel fucking incredible.” He traces a hand down each arm--- first lying at your sides---and then one joins the other at the side of your head. “Give me the go my beautiful orchid.”
“G-go. Hurry, please.”
Burning tears prick at your duct with every delicious squelching pump. It was more than a physically tie of bodies, but a fuel of penetrated emotion.
Wooyoung looked into your eyes with the stars of a night sky within them--- swiping the tears that piled underneath yours. You kept blinking away, angry at what you couldn’t see in clear focus, but it was just too hot.
Your cheeks burned, your backside broke out a sweat, and your insides had a butterfly garden growing from your guts.
“Are you okay? Does it hurt?”
“I’m fine.” You slip a hand from the side of your hand to feel the curve of his face momentarily . “If I felt this earlier in my life, things would have been better a long time ago.”
He chuckles with the shortest grin that drops sequentially into a long ‘O’. “We’re okay now baby.” He leans down and grows deeper, the pressure squeezes down inside your walls with intensity. “With love… we can do better together. Yeah?” He turns his head in, kissing the shell of your ear.
You hold him close by the back of his neck-pulling into his hairs from the overwhelming wash of emotion watering your soul.
Wooyoung receives a telepathic shock of sorts, because between your heavy moaning and crying, your fingernails grazing and pulling at his scalp, and most of all the feeling of you inside and out makes him greedier to feed off of it even more.
And so, he thrust harder, tougher, and it pushes the air straight from your lungs. If you thought you couldn’t see before, you most certainly could not now. It was as if you were pushed into a white room for a few seconds, and then pulled back out for clarity. “F-fuck, hgnnnn.”
A hand comes up beside your face and you feel Wooyoung pull out slowly, as soon as you were enabled to open your eyes once again- he rolls his body in this wave that just crashes into your brain.
“Oooh fuck, there’s no way I’m going to last long.” He looks down upon you, eyes squinting and glossy, eager to see all of which was happening. He could nearly giggle, but he could not make joke of what it was, he was falling apart in the same way. “Are you almost there mama?”
Your eyebrows furrowed as a strong build up squeezes your lower abdomen. Not to mention, the irony of the new nickname considering the switch of position. “Almost, baby.”
And with one deep stroke into psychosis--- the waves came crashing back down. It was a blissful experience that not any partner you’ve had could replicate if they tried (and they never did).
Years of pent up frustration just melted onto your bedsheet, and you were signifying that to Wooyoung who was digging into you even deeper.
You placed a hand on his sculpted stomach-pushing in and out its normal place.
“Ahhh, it’s coming.” He whimpers, falling down in place with his body on yours, and his head beside your ear. A choked out groan sends sound waves into your ear drums, “Please tell me you’re still on the pill.”
You chuckle and wrap your legs on his bum, and pull him deeper within. “Come on~", you teasingly beckoned.
His body vibrates with a shock of shivers, and a deep gasp. “Ohhhh, thank the sex gods.”
In that moment you both just shake into each other with laughter. Wooyoung presses kisses where he can reach onto your cold sweat before rolling over.
He turns his head to look at your face, and you were already gazing at your lover in admiration.
“You think we can cuddle for real now?”
You chuckle softly, turning over onto your side as you softly to adjust a pile underneath your head. “I think it’s more official now that we’ve shooked that out of our systems.”
Wooyoung grinned and tucked a messy strand of many behind your ear, followed by a thoughtful kiss. He turns over--- snuggling back into your welcoming embrace.
A comforting beat of silence.
“We jumped to category D before C don’t you think?”
“Category D…?”
He turns his head back--- giving you a hint with his untelling expression. Then the dots lined to connect.
You bit into his shoulder hard in retort, pulling a whiny groan from his throat. “See now you’re trying to jump to an hardcore F!”
“Stop it!” You bite harder and he painfully giggles.
…
The morning sun stretches slowly across the apartment walls, casting a soft amber glow over tangled limbs and cotton sheets.
You’re awake before him— propped slightly on your elbow, watching the rise and fall of Wooyoung's chest where he sleeps curled against you, arms tucked in, breath slow and even. His face is relaxed for once, lashes dark against his cheek, mouth slightly parted.
He looks impossibly young like this. And safe. Like your home became a person and it chose to cling to your ribs in the shape of him.
You trace a gentle line along his shoulder, and he stirs, nose nudging your collarbone. A small groan escapes him— groggy, reluctant.
“Nooooo,” he murmurs, burrowing deeper into your chest. “I was promised Category C. All-night. All positions. Cuddling.”
You stifle a laugh, your fingers brushing through his hair. “You’ve had nine hours of uninterrupted snuggle supremacy, mister. Reality’s calling. So is the office.”
He peeks up at you with one eye, brows furrowed like a pouty prince. “Don’t like reality. Reality has Broker in it.”
You press a kiss to his forehead, lingering a beat too long. “Then let’s hit it fast before it hits us first.”
With a resigned sigh, Wooyoung untangles himself slowly— stretches once, then flops back down dramatically with a pillow over his face.
“Okay,” he says muffled. “But when we become billionaires, we’re buying an island. No phones. Just silk sheets and snacks.”
You roll out of bed, already tossing him a work shirt he kept of many in your closet. “You’re gonna be late to your dream life if you don’t move.”
A sudden weight pulls on your shoulders, making your back fall onto the bed again. “Well let’s go back to bed then my orchid. My dream life is right here.”
Although secretly flattered, you push his face away from your view, rising to prepare again for the work day.
…
Just before you step into the boardroom, Wooyoung reaches out and touches your arm gently.
“Hey.” His voice drops, softer than usual. “Whatever today brings… we’ve got each other’s six, yeah?”
You give him a steady nod, your eyes locking with his.
"Today and always."
And with that, the next phase begins.
The blinds are drawn. The fluorescent lights buzz faintly overhead. The long glass table stretches with employees before you like a war map, scattered with devices and data.
You stand at the head, tablet open, key documents spread in front of you. Steady. Sharp.
“We’ve kept Broker entertained long enough,” you say, voice clear and focused. “But we can’t keep riding the fence. We either stall him with red tape, or put something shinier in front of him to bite.”
Yunho, seated to your right, flips open a legal pad. “What kind of stall? The event bought us time, but the clock’s running out.”
Wooyoung leans back in his chair, arms crossed. “Or we let him get drunk off his own ego. Guys like Broker always think they’re holding the leash.”
“Until they’re not,” you reply with a faint smile.
Your gaze shifts to Yunho. “You were around him at the venue. You saw who he was eyeing. What’s your read?”
He nods slowly. “He’s not chasing a deal. He’s chasing our image. Proximity gives him credibility he can’t get on his own. We let him orbit, but don’t let him land. Make him feel involved— without giving him anything real.”
“That could work,” Wooyoung mutters, his glance toward Yunho brief and unreadable. “Unless someone lets him in too far.”
Yunho doesn’t blink. “Which is why we stay aligned, sir.”
The air in the room tightens. Other's have watched the entire ideal like a ping pong match. You feel it like static crackling beneath the table. You clear your throat, pushing through the weight.
“I’m drafting a two-tier response,” you continue. “One: a dummy investment path, something credible enough to bait him. Two: we redirect our marketing to pull the spotlight off his involvement.”
“And the real game plan?” Yunho prompts.
You nod. “Stays with us.”
Wooyoung nods as well, but avoids meeting Yunho’s eyes. “Kept in-house. Where it belongs.”
You snap your tablet shut. Smiling falsely with a huff of air. “We brief the team tomorrow. No one outside this room hears the full breakdown. Broker will think we’re entertaining him— until he tries to move in.”
“And that’s when we sever ties,” Wooyoung finishes quietly.
A silence falls, thick and deliberate.
You lean in, folding your hands on the table. “I want no risk. Broker’s been circling close, and I won’t tolerate secondhand surprises. If anyone here has concerns or sees something— this is your chance to speak.”
Yunho meets your gaze directly. “I trust the plan. And the people in this room.”
Wooyoung echoes, a little slower. “Same here.”
Everyone else heads bobble in agreement.
You nod once--- tight. “Good. Because tomorrow will be the last time he steps foot in this room. Meeting adjourned.”
But Wooyoung lingers as the others begin to file out. His hand brushes your forearm, voice dropping low.
“Y/n—this wasn’t part of the plan. Letting him walk in here again? Tomorrow?”
You turn to him, meeting his unease with quiet conviction. “This is my plan, Mr.Jung. I knew you’d react like this, but it needs to happen. One final meeting, and then he’s out for good. That takes trust.”
His eyes search yours. You see the flicker of frustration—but beneath it, something softer.
“You know I trust you,” he says, his voice firm but steady.
“Then it’s settled.”
///
Tomorrow…
The mood in the glass conference room is deceptively calm— but underneath, it crackles. You sit at the head of the table, fingers drumming lightly against your tablet.
To your right is Wooyoung legs crossed, jaw tense. Across from him, Yunho remains composed, flipping through neatly lined notes. Around the room, staff sip from coffee cups and skim reports, their faces carved in practiced neutrality.
As Broker drones on about minor adjustments and forward-facing strategies, Wooyoung’s posture stiffens. His arms fold across his chest, and his leg bounces with barely restrained impatience.
You notice his glare flick constantly toward Yunho — specifically, the way Yunho politely engages. He takes notes. Nods. Smiles when prompted. It doesn’t go unnoticed.
When the meeting finally adjourns, chairs scrape lightly across the floor. You remain seated as Wooyoung rises, gaze locked on Yunho.
“Yunho,” he says, tone firm but even. “A minute?”
Yunho glances up, brows slightly pinched. “Sure.”
They head to the break lounge — quiet, neutral ground.
When the door swings shut behind them, Wooyoung turns with measured restraint, hands in his pockets.
“Look,” he starts, gaze heavy, “I know we’ve always worked well together. But I have to ask.”
Yunho watches him cautiously. “It’s about Broker. These meetings— the conversations before the rest of us are looped in. I saw how he pulled you aside at the ceremony. Has he tried to… get in your head? Offer you anything?”
Yunho blinks, caught off guard. “No,” he says quickly. “Nothing like that. Just asked about a few minor things.” He shifts under the weight of the question. “Is that… an issue?”
“It is,” Wooyoung answers, sharper than before. “Because people are starting to talk. About him. About you. About whether he’s trying to undercut Mrs. Hart.”
Yunho stiffens. “He hasn’t crossed any lines with me. He won't. I swear.”
Wooyoung studies his face— intently— as if trying to read between the calm lines of Yunho’s response.
After a moment, he nods slowly. “Alright. But if he does try anything— anything that feels off— you come to me. Got it?”
Yunho nods. “I will.” He hesitates, then adds with quiet sincerity, “You know I’ve always looked up to you, right? And to Mrs.Hart. I wouldn’t risk this. Not for anyone.”
Something in Wooyoung's stance softens. He clasps a hand on Yunho’s shoulder, squeezing gently.
“I know,” he murmurs. “That’s why I’m trusting you to be straight with me if anything changes.”
Yunho gives a small smile, more like a reassurance than a response. “I’ve got your back. Just say the word.”
There’s a pause before Yunho tilts his head slightly. “But what do you think his angle is anyway? Broker doesn’t strike me as the long-game type.”
Wooyoung exhales, rubbing at his brow. “No idea. Maybe he’s threatened. Maybe he wants influence. But with the company anniversary coming up, the last thing the boss needs is another complication.”
He looks at Yunho squarely. “That means we watch him. And I need you sharp. If he’s testing the waters with you, that’s leverage we can’t afford him.”
Yunho nods, his face more serious now. “I’ll keep you in the loop.” Then, more lightly, “Guess being the office favorite has its drawbacks, huh?”
Wooyoung finally laughs — dry, but genuine. “Welcome to the club.”
They return to their desks, but the silence they leave behind hums with tension neither one of them quite knows how to name.
…
As the days wore on, Wooyoung found himself increasingly paranoid. He’d catch himself watching Yunho during meetings, studying his posture, analyzing every word that left his mouth for hints — any subtle shift that might suggest he was hiding something.
The office buzzed with quiet urgency. You stepped onto the operations floor with your phone pressed to your ear, your stride smooth, composed. Staff glanced up as you passed— they could sense it. Something in the air had shifted since that last boardroom meeting.
And today didn’t promise any calm.
You stopped at Yunho’s desk, speaking low and fast. “You’ll handle the draft packet for the ShellPoint dummy acquisition. Make it believable— but boring.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Yunho replied smoothly, pulling up financial reports without hesitation. “Do you want regional projections included?”
“Just enough to confuse a man like Broker,” you said with a smirk before moving on.
Across the floor, Wooyoung hovered near a pod of desks, jaw tight as he combed through the slides for your pitch deck — a showy, empty presentation meant to dazzle without revealing anything real.
He looked up just in time to see you still at Yunho’s desk, pausing a moment too long at his shoulder.
His eyes narrowed.
A beat later, Wooyoung strode across the floor and handed over a flash drive. “Marketing visuals. For the pitch,” he said flatly, his voice void of inflection as he looked at Yunho — but didn’t really see him.
“Thanks,” Yunho replied, calm as ever, taking it without flinching.
You glanced between them, the flicker of tension unmistakable, even if no one else would dare name it. “You two need to coordinate — visuals and messaging. No cracks.”
“We’re good,” Yunho replied.
“Solid as ever,” Wooyoung added with a tight smile, but the subtext spoke volumes.
The tension wasn’t loud, but it echoed in the silence between their words.
Meanwhile— tucked away on the outskirts town— stood a smaller building not centralized in the industrious parts your business resides. Broker stood behind the glass walls of a lesser meeting room, hunched over pitch summaries fed to him by design. Low-tier, inconsequential material. Dressed up just enough to look promising.
He looked intrigued… but bored.
Exactly as planned.
///
One afternoon, Wooyoung found himself cornered by some of their colleagues in the break room. "So, what's the deal with Broker and Yunho, huh?" one of them asked, leaning against the counter with a smirk. "They seem awfully chummy."
Wooyoung's grip tightened around his coffee mug, his knuckles turning white. "I've already spelled to him and gave him a few precautions, Broker is just a pest that's trying to make way into his mind." he replied tightly. He could feel the eyes of the group boring into him, waiting for more. He took a deep, calming breath before continuing.
"Yunho is a professional. He can handle himself. We're all just focused on making sure the anniversary event goes off without a hitch." Wooyoung's voice was steady, but there was an undercurrent of warning in his tone. He fixed each person with a pointed stare.
The group exchanged looks, the unspoken message clear. They nodded slowly, murmuring agreements before dispersing to other conversations.
Wooyoung let out a slow breath, his shoulders relaxing slightly. As he took a sip of his coffee, he noticed Yunho entering the break room, deep in thought.
Wooyoung watched as Yunho poured himself a cup of coffee, his movements slow and deliberate.
There was a tension in his shoulders, a tightness around his face that spoke of stress. Wooyoung debated whether or not to approach him, not wanting to draw unwanted attention from their colleagues. But his concern for Yunho won out.
He crossed the room, keeping his voice low as he asked, "Hey, how are you holding up?"
Yunho looked up, his eyes meeting Wooyoung's. For a moment, Wooyoung thought he saw a flash of vulnerability, quickly masked by a neutral expression.
"I'm fine, sir."
Wooyoung's brows furrowed slightly at the formal address, a silent question passing between them. He leaned in closer, lowering his voice even further. "Yunho… you can talk to me, you know. Off the record."
Yunho' gaze flickered to the side, darting around the break room before returning to Wooyoung's. For a moment, Wooyoung thought he saw a glimmer of something there, a hint of trust. Then, Yunho' expression hardened, and he replied, "I'm fine, Wooyoung. Really."
Wooyoung's heart sank, a pang of disappointment and worry settling in his chest. He studied Yunho' face, searching for any sign that he was telling the truth.
But Yunho' features remained impassive, giving away nothing. Wooyoung sighed inwardly, deciding to let the matter drop for now.
///
Yes, you’ve been preoccupied with occupying Broker trying to depart him from your business. But, no, it hasn’t stole all of your attention to realize the shift in the office. Particularly with the man you’ve known on a more personal level who know consumes your focus more than he realizes.
You watched Wooyoung and Yunho from afar, your keen eyes taking in every interaction between them.
You'd noticed the tension between them, the unspoken words passing between them like secret messages. You knew something was going on, something that Wooyoung was trying to keep under wraps.
It's too obvious. You seen the way Wooyoung looked at Yunho. You'd also see in effect---seen the way Yunho carried himself, the subtle stiffness in his shoulders that spoke of stress. The cause of it--- you'd seen the whispering among their colleagues, the speculative looks they cast towards Yunho and Broker.
Your mind raced with possibilities, each more concerning than the last. You knew that Yunho was under a lot of pressure with the upcoming anniversary event. But there was something else, something deeper that was troubling him.
“Alright,” you said, breaking the silence. “We’ve confirmed our new partnership with KQ Entertainment is briefing the press with a release by morning.”
There was a flicker of tension in Wooyoung's brow. “And Broker?”
You tapped your screen and swiveled it toward him. The subject line on the email was simple:
RE: Proposal Status— Change in Plans
You read the body aloud, voice calm:
While initial discussions held promise, it’s become apparent that the direction of your team’s collaboration efforts has begun to stir unintended volatility in the market.
As such, I’ll be withdrawing my interest at this time. Should your strategic vision realign in a more sustainable direction, I’m open to revisiting possibilities— provided the conditions are mutually favorable.
Regards,
Mrs. Hart
No greeting. No signature. Just ego.
“He’s read it just no reply.” Yunho noted, tilting his head. “Impressive restraint, considering how much he likes to hear himself talk.”
And that comment alone wow'd the room.
You smiled faintly but held back the wish to laugh. “His silence speaks volumes.”
You turned to Wooyoung “Marketing is already cleaning up the drop-off. We’ll position this pivot as a strategic redirection. Any fallout will be manageable.”
He nodded, jaw working slightly. “Still a good move. I’d rather lose a little press than give that man a seat at the table.”
There was a beat of quiet agreement around the room.
Then you added: “And we’re not ghosting him. Our comms team will send a follow-up thank-you and note that the partnership route just didn’t fit the current scope. Clean, cordial, forgettable.”
Yunho leaned back. “He’ll stew on that.”
“Let him,” you replied, collecting your notes. “He was never the plan. Just a decoy to keep the vultures circling elsewhere.”
…
You invited Wooyoung to meet you at a quiet bar that night. The office had been a suffocating constant lately, and you needed a shift—somewhere neutral, somewhere you could breathe without being watched.
He arrived late, shoulders tense, eyes searching the room until they landed on you.
“Woo,” you called softly, motioning for him. He crossed the dim space with careful steps, taking the seat across from you in the half-empty booth.
“I need to talk to you,” you said, skipping the pleasantries. “It’s about Yunho.”
His brows drew together immediately. You didn’t miss the way his jaw tightened. “What about him?”
You leaned forward, elbows on the table, voice lowered. “Something’s off. You’ve noticed it too, haven’t you?”
Wooyoung’s gaze lingered on you, guarded. Then, slowly, he nodded. “Yeah. I know something’s going on. But it’s… delicate.”
You didn’t flinch. “I can handle delicate.”
There was a pause. He studied your face like he was weighing trust and risk, then let out a sigh. “It’s the anniversary event. There’s more happening than we’ve told the staff. Yunho… he’s been receiving threats.”
The words landed heavy in your chest. “Threats? From who?”
“We don’t know yet. But they’re personal. Deliberate. Targeted.” He paused, then added more softly, “It’s why he’s been tense. And why I’ve been watching him so closely.”
You swallowed. “So that’s why you’ve been accusing him of working with Broker?”
His eyes flickered. Defensive. “It’s not an accusation. It’s a consideration. He’s been distant, hiding things. It fits Broker’s playbook.”
Your voice rose slightly, disbelief burning at your throat. “That’s a hell of a reach, Woo. You’ve been planting doubt in everyone’s mind. People are starting to look at him like he’s guilty of something.”
Wooyoung sat back, his mouth a firm line. “I’m protecting this company. And you. If something's happening behind our backs—”
“Then we support him,” you snapped. “He’s under pressure. He’s being threatened, Woo. He doesn’t need suspicion. He needs someone in his corner.”
He went quiet. Your heart was pounding now, but your voice softened.
“Woo… I know you care about him. I’ve seen it. But the way you’re handling this? It’s going to push him away.”
He stared down at the table. “I know,” he said finally. “But if there’s any chance—any—he’s connected to Broker’s games…”
You cut in, firmer this time. “Then we deal with it together. But until then, I need you to stop adding fuel to this fire. No more suspicion. Not without proof.”
Silence stretched. Then, slowly, he nodded. “Okay. I’ll ease up.”
You exhaled, the tension loosening in your chest. “Thank you.”
There was still so much unspoken between you—doubt, concern, loyalty. But for now, it was enough.
“I think we should stay at our own places tonight,” you said softly, rising to your feet. “We both need some space to think.”
His eyes followed you up, gentle but unreadable. “Love you,” you whispered as you turned.
“Love you too,” he said, almost under his breath.
You didn’t look back as you walked out, but you knew he watched you the whole way.
Back inside, Wooyoung remained at the table, fingers curled tightly around his glass, mind spinning with unfinished thoughts. He knew you were right. He just didn’t know how to stop the feeling in his gut that something was still off.
…
As the team filters out of the room, you and Wooyoung linger behind, the buzz of conversation fading into the closing door.
He stays near you—close but not pressing—his posture looser than it had been in days. After a night of space and reflection, he'd come back with quieter words and a sincere apology. You’d offered him the comfort he didn’t ask for but clearly needed.
“He’s not upset,” Wooyoung murmurs, almost to himself. “He’s just regrouping.”
You glance sideways at him, voice low. “So are we. But at least Broker’s off our leash now, hm?”
He half-smiles, maybe about to say more—something soft or teasing, something to finally close the rift.
Then ding—the sound of a notification cuts clean through the moment.
Wooyoung shifts, pulling his phone from his pocket casually… until he sees the screen.
No name.
Just a photo.
Blurry, grainy—but unmistakable. You. Him. Outside the garage elevator. Laughing. Too close. And another—last night, at the bar, parting ways under a streetlamp, your hands brushing as if they hadn’t just left the same war room.
A single message beneath it:
"Thought this might interest you."
Wooyoung doesn’t speak. His thumb hovers over the screen, jaw tight, brows low.
You watch his face change—alert, guarded, eerily still.
His slow moving eyes flick up to meet yours.
And just like that…
everyone became a suspect.
🐈⬛🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾
Episode 5
THANK YOU FOR READING.
PLEASE DO NOT COPY MY ORIGINAL WORKS, reblogs are appreciated and accepted. Stealing and modifying my work or publishing out on other platforms is not.
🐈⬛~🎀 SUMMARY: After a dreamlike escape, Mrs. Hart and Wooyoung return to the grind, where the heat between them simmers just beneath the surface. As they navigate rising tension, a high-stakes deal with the powerful Mr. Broker threatens to expose more than just their business plans.
🐈⬛~🎀 A/N: A few episodes left here,and let’s hope my ass won’t drag it out for long.
Day 3
The sun kissed you both warmly as you strolled along the beach hand in hand. The freshness in the air was so crisp, like the cooling water that crashed along your feet.
It was odd that, as business partners with sexual relations- no strings attached- that you were holding onto each other by a thread. Although you had considered it friendship before, you now realize the double knot of security that existed between you two.
To your surprise, preparing for this trip was instant and easy. For both of your sakes, you try not to think about how instant and easy it can be become sluggish and difficult in any matter of time.
Although, was a sense of longing for peace in the private land. Wooyoung never looked so natural in all your days spent together. The sun gave his black hair sparkling brown undertones, his skin was like a gem in the way it had golden, his linen white clothing fooled you into depicting purity, and his eyes still held that depth and mystery.
He turns to you with the same thoughts in mind, eyeing over your mesh hot pink cover-up dress and the matching bikini, except a man of his character let it be known to you without shame. "Can I request an extension for this vacation? Just you, me, and miles of sand… just for a little bit longer?" Wooyoung's eyes take over those things in order, like the greatest fortunes were foreseen before him.
You peer over to the setting sun resting over the boundless sea, and the darkening of the moonlight is casting over. Wooyoung’s arm is jerked into you as you grow to be entranced, snuggling firm to your side. “There always has to be a balance.” You grab hold of the area between his hip and his waist, raking your nails along his skin. “We have our time now to rest and all, but when the sun rises on another day, we have to put our energy toward the things that require our attention.”
Your mind transversed back into its gears of labor. All you could smell in this moment was freshly printed papers, all you could feel beneath your dandy feet were kitten heels, the crashing ocean beside you sounded distant from the booting of your computer inside your head, all you could see was a giant box of land needed to be enclosed for office space, the salt in the air sprinkling between the tubes connecting your nose and mouth reminded you of tears that fell down your face into your mouth when you’re alone.
Yet, the feeling of Wooyoung’s hand in yours made you feel like you were in both places at the same time. He was still here, just closer, warmer, and happier…and you were too.
Wooyoung shivers at your touch, his abs clenching under your gentle yet firm caress. On the contrary, he groans from your spoken words, placing his muscular hands over your slender ones with a boyish pout. “Why do you have to be like that right now.~” You watch his lips push forward in adornment, but he’s quick to claim yours that very second. “You should be more like the older woman who lives next to your apartment.”
Even though it was snarky, you can’t help but laugh as you remember Wooyoung’s story about the impromptu elevator conversation with Ms.Weilderman about “helping you work your stressors out.” The comedic timing has your hand slapping against his previously whipped chest. (Something that slipped from your current free-spirited mind).
Wooyoung hisses dramatically as he closes your distance, clutching his chest and leaning against you for support. "It burns so good. But still…it burns…aaahhh~.”
His closeness makes his presence too strong to ignore, and you find yourself throwing your arms over his backside as you fiddle with his behind. “You shouldn’t have brought Ms.Weilderman into this!” You kiss the spots of highlight on his face as an apology. Wooyoung's eyes fluttered closed as you kissed him, his pout quickly melting away. Although a mischievous smirk appears-he pulls from your gentle hold and closer to the deep blue, nearly letting you tumble into a mouthful of sand.
His escape is limitless, but he opts to run into the sea, thinking you wouldn’t chase him after wanting to just tan for the day, but you surprise him by running straight in.
The rush in your speed kicks the sand up high into the wind from the Earth's floor like explosive bullets. “Get over here, you little rascal! You know my sore spots won’t let me get that far!”
Wooyoung laughs heartily as he pushes backward into the water, always glancing back to make sure you’re following like a playful boy. His manly physique is washed over contact into the shallow waves, the cool water lapping at his waist. "Come on, pretty! Since when has pain ever stopped you?"
The water hadn’t even surpassed your knees, and you were already quivering. You watch as Wooyoung swam further until his shoulders and above are all to be seen. He comes to a still, which pushes you to be reluctant to move. Your jiggling body cascades further into the coldness of the ocean water to meet Wooyoung closer on the inside.
The two of you engage in a playful tug-of-war with your bodies as you subtly approach him to hide your plan to attack. Wooyoung cheats by wrapping his arms around your waist from underneath the water to pull you further out into the waves. In rebellion, you use your weighted strength to keep him in the shallow area, utilizing the curves of your thighs wrapped around his slim hips.
Wooyoung’s eyes widen as your curvaceous form causes his actions to backfire. He squeals as he rubs his hands over your frame, which only encourages you to cling on. "This is unfair! You're using your entire mom-bod as a weapon!"
You abruptly stop grounding your weight and wear a baffled expression… because did you just hear, “Mom bod?! You just don’t know your limits, do you kitty~?”
Wooyoung's eyes widen as he realizes his mistake, his mouth falling open in a comical 'O' shape. He backpedals quickly, his hands raised in surrender. "No, no, no, that's not what I meant at all! I meant it in the most loving, respectful way possible!”
You swam closer with his every pedal backward, leading him to change paths into a full circle to prevent going into the depths of the ocean. “I think we’re in too deep, pretty.”
Your smile grew back bigger with every move because he was as timid as a crab burying itself by the shore. You slowly began to sink your toes amongst the algae on the ocean floor to move at a bait-catching rate. Your knees bend deep, making your head the only visible thing compared to a swamped alligator. “Do you know how a shark hunts, Wooyoung?".
As you round about back closer to the shore rocks poke sharply beneath your feet. Your resolve began to slowly chip off in pieces until Wooyoung jumped up and fell backward.
A wave of water is incoming from your arms uplifted waves into Wooyoung’s face, confusingly blinding him. You take a deep breath and dive beneath the surface, leaving Wooyoung standing bewildered in the shallow water. Moments later, a burst of bubbles burst forth from behind him, and you pop up from behind, washing him over with salty seawater.
His eyes shut reflexively as the splashes crash onto him, his arms pinwheeling wildly as he tries to keep his head above water, but he ends up tumbling under. He emerges moments later, coughing and sputtering as he combs his plastered hair to the top of his head, sexily spitting a fountain of water on his chest.
Your jaw mobilizes with mild constraint. Every little mishap your little kitty seems to have is simmered down with his sexy appeal.
But two can play that game.
Wooyoung grins, noticing your smoldering gaze. He wipes the water from his face slowly, making a show of it as he drags his hands down his chest, abs, and hips. “That wouldn't have been a bad way to go. Considering it was you.”
As he continues to pose and tease, your expression grows more heated. You take a deep, steadying breath, easing out of the water, your movements slow and deliberate. Wooyoung's grin fades, confusion knitting his brows as he watches your sudden retreat.
As your feet reunited with the sand, which has grown cooler and collected in the form of your soles. You turn to jog back to the villa and Wooyoung rushes to follow, but the rocks underneath the surface cripple his strength above. "I think it's time we took a second shower!" You say opening the sliding door on the back deck in the distance, dropping your wet clothing through the windows, and walking out towards the obstruction of his view.
Wooyoung's mouth falls open as your words and actions sink in, his eyes tracking your movements hungrily before and after your disappearance.
He hops out of the water and onto the shore, dripping wet and shivering, but his erection, tenting his wet briefs, overpowers the cold breeze. "What?! Sharks don’t swim away from their food! Eat me!” he calls out, his voice laced with mock outrage.
He pushes open the sliding door in a hurry, stepping into follow the trail of your wet puddles on the hardwood floor. He tiptoes down the hallway, past the beaded curtains, with his heart pounding with a mix of nervousness and excitement.
He pauses as his chest makes contact with the bathroom door, listening intently. The sound of running water and the soft humming of your sweet voice reach his ears. With a deep breath of excitement, he slowly turns the knob, and pushes the door open.
As he walks in, the shower door is floating on its hinges, but beyond that welcomes your body, sudded up with soapy bubbles- the scent of strawberry vanilla filling the humid air. You’re watchful of his arrival, but you continue humming, not paying him no never mind.
Wooyoung's eyes widen as he takes in the erotic sight before him. Your voluptuous body coated in shimmering bubbles, the darkening shade of your nipples just barely peeking through. The scent of strawberries mingling with the steam creates an intoxicating atmosphere.
Suddenly, your humming is interrupted by a non-rhythmic harmony that draws out into a longing moan. You fully turn to display your body to Wooyoung, pulling at your hardened nipples and smoothing over your torso down to your ass. "I just can't help myself..."
Wooyoung's breath hitches as your actions ratchet up the intensity. His eyes dart between your face and your running hands, captivated by the sensuous display. He licks his lips unconsciously, his breathing growing heavier as he steps further into the room. "Please. I can help you, mistress."
In that moment, your moans transition
harmoniously to a ferocious warning growl. "Not another step, kitty." You turn to face the wall with your legs wide, switching your ass to the front and back of the shower in Wooyoung’s face.
Wooyoung freezes, his heart pounding in his chest as he takes in the sight before him. Your wide-open legs frame your glistening pussy perfectly that makes his mouth water contrasted to the salty ocean. He swallows hard, his resolve weakening as he wishes to trespass on your boundaries. "M-mistress...". He swallows hard, his mouth watering at the forbidden view. "Fuck," he whispers, his resolve crumbling by another bit.
You begin to run your fingers through your folds, splitting the direction of the running water. "He's so bad, and I don't know why. But it makes me feel so good~." He watches as your head turns with a flushed expression. His own hands clench and unclench at his sides, longing to touch both you and himself, but held back by your commanding presence. His cock jumps with fever-shifting the muscle in his abs.
"Please...”
You begin to moan louder as your fingers ride back up to ghost over your lips. Then you bring the two back together, sinking it in deep into your hole. "Augghh~…It turns me on just thinking about it. His gorgeous black hair, those tantalizing, piercing brown eyes, and then that veiny fucking body. If I were a vampire… I’d slowly suck him dry."
Wooyoung’s chest heaves, his desire spiking as he listens to your dirty words and watches your fingers disappear into your warmth. His hands ball into fists, the temptation to disobey your commands and touch himself growing unbearable. "M-mistress..! I’m begging you...".
His cries drive you to finger yourself at an animalistic pace. Quenching sounds of the water mixed inside your core make the most vulgar noises as the echoing walls amplify them around the room.
Wooyoung's self-resolve snaps completely in that moment. Every pump plays drums in his head. With a guttural moan, he gives in to temptation and wraps his hand around his bare throbbing erection, pumping furiously in rhythm with your actions. "I'm sorry, mistress...l can't hold back...". His voice is tight with need.
Your lips smear against the walls as his fapping reached your ears. "You know what really pisses me the fuck off?" You chuckle against the surface, pleasing yourself with a quickening pace while your fingers cramp from the exercise, but when has pain ever stopped you?
"The little slut knows the kind of effect he has on me. But can you guess what he doesn't know?" Wooyoung's face is a mask of concentration, his hand flying over his hard flesh as he matches your unpredictable rhythm.
"W-what, mistress?" he grits out, his voice hoarse with desire. "What doesn't he know?" His hips buck forward, pushing his hand harder against his erection.
Outcomes of laughter are caught off by your own whine- your fingertips plunging into a sweeter spot."My pussy... augh… can control him…through all his senses."
Wooyoung’s eyes roll back, and he lets out a choked moan, his whole body tensing.
"Oh god, mistress...that's...that's so wrong...". His hand speeds up, his breathing growing more ragged with each passing second. "Please, mistress...l need to come..."
You unclench your cut from your bombarding fingers and starts working quick on your clit. "Then fucking come with me you slutty kitty. FUCK!”
Wooyoung throws his head back with a roar as his orgasm crashes over him, his release shooting out over his fist and onto the bathroom floor. Your shout of ecstasy mingles with his, the combined sounds of pleasure echoing off the steamy walls.
You place both hands on the shower walls as your legs grow weak. Your
face even twitches on the walls, and your weight becomes too heavy to uphold. You feel yourself slipping until you’re caught by Wooyoung, who rushes forward, still panting heavily with his arms wrapped around your waist, holding you close as you lean back against him.
He buries his face in your shoulder, his fingers digging gently into your skin as he tries to catch his breath. "I told you that I could help…"
…
Day 4
As the golden hour approaches, Wooyoung is sprawled out on a hammock strung up between two trees in the backyard. The warm evening breeze rustles the leaves above him, casting dappled shadows on his relaxed form.
You retrieve a polished wooden spatula from the drying rack after dinner, twirling it around and smacking it in the palm of your hand as a tester. You watch as the skin transitions from its original color to a deep red-a sly grin grew on your lips.
As the sun dips lower, painting the sky with hues of orange and red, Wooyoung’s peaceful hammock time comes to an abrupt end. He feels you approach, the creak of the wooden porch steps giving you away.
He cranes his neck to watch you, his eyes widening as he sees the wooden spatula in your hand.
“What do you think?” You ask without obvious context.
"Mmph?" Wooyng answers with a quirked brow- watching intently as you smack the wooden spatula against your palm again, the sound echoing loudly. His body tenses slightly, his mind racing with curiosity and anticipation. “You’re thinking of using that on me?”
"Mmhmm." You nod, a devilish glint in your eye as you step closer to the hammock. You reach out and gently grab Woo's ankle, giving it a little encircled rub before traveling up and down his shin. “Two more days after this one, and I want to have you in every way possible.”
“Then let’s spend our time exploring these possibilities of yours.”
Moments later in the bedroom…
Wooyoung swallows hard, watching as you test the spatula again. He spreads his legs slightly, his body unconsciously preparing itself. “You know,” He smirks, trying to hide his nervousness, “Most would use their hands."
Wooyoung quickly faces the bed again as you press into the arch of his back- burying his face in the blankets. “I can’t believe you’re making me say this, but you should know I’m not like most kitty.~” Your conniving voice makes his whole body tenses in anticipation, his backside clenching and unclenching.
The first smack from the wooden spoon catches him off guard, the sharp, stinging pain drawing a surprised yelp from his throat. His face soon resolves into happiness as the pain deliciously lingers.
Thus to say, he went to sleep that night…very cheeky. With his bum bare and a t-shirt, he lies comfortably on your chest.
…
Day 5
The afternoon rolls around, and you’re lounging on the couch, munching on a sweet honey crisp apple while Wooyoung freshens up in the shower.
Not long after, as he walks into the room, his eyes are immediately drawn to the apple in your hand. His mere observation, predictably so, formulated an action of mischief.
You leap from the comfort of your position, reaching out to pluck the apple from his grasp.
Wooyoung smirks in amusement at your advances, taking a large, crunchy bite before you can snatch it away. "Hey!" You exclaim playfully, but then he eggs it on further, dulling your expression by the minute. He swallows his mouthful, still grinning, as his pink lips glisten with apple juice.
You lunge for the apple again, but Wooyoung pulls it back high into the air as he mockingly bites at your hand instead. "MMPH!”
You yank your hand away quickly as the initial pain electrifies your senses. “Ow, what the fuck!” On your pinky's edge, you found half-moon-shaped indents and trickles of glistening juice and saliva. "Did you really just bite me?"
Wooyoung's grin widens, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Maybe…" he says innocently, his voice dripping with sarcasm. He pulls his hand down to take another bite of the apple, but you quickly snatch it away, holding it behind your back from his advances.
Your eyes flash with anger and arousal, holding the apple tightly as your knuckles turn white. "You bit me hard, you little brat," you hiss, your voice low and dangerous. "You know the rules. No biting unless I command it so."
Wooyoung's grin never falters, even as he feels a pang of fear at your words. He knows he's in trouble, but he can't help himself. He loves pushing your buttons and seeing how far he can go before you lose your cool. "Rules are meant to be broken?”, he quizzically challenges.
You found amusement in the situation just as he did, and you could be mischievous too, just as he was. "Since you love biting so much-let's see how you handle this!” Your hand flies out from hiding, shoving the half-eaten apple into Wooyoung's mouth. You roughly grab onto his hair as he gags around the apple.
Wooyoung chokes and sputters, his eyes watering as he tries to swallow and clench onto the apple. The strength of your hand in his hair is unmoved, and your eyes glint with satisfaction as he struggles. "Mmmph! Mmmph!"
"Oh, you can't talk with your mouth full, huh?" You taunt, your grip tightening in his hair. "Well, that's okay. You'll have plenty of time to apologize later. For now, just focus on swallowing.", you wickedly whisper in a soothing tone.
Wooyoung finds himself bent over the coffee table, his pants around his ankles, and his bottom already a fiery red from your relentless spanking. His body tenses as he feels your hand slip between his legs, gently fondling his swollen, aching manhood.
"Look at this," you murmur, your breath warm against his ear. "You're so hard and throbbing, just from being spanked and gagged on an apple. You are a naughty boy, aren't you?" You give his balls a gentle squeeze, making him whimper and squirm.
"Mmm-hmm," Wooyoung moans. His body tenses as he feels your fingers wrap around him, giving him a slow, firm stroke.
At the end of that, he was as red as a pig cooked to roast over an open fire.
…
Day 6
The gentle sensation of a hand slowly moving up and down Wooyoung’s manhood in his rested state. He blinks his eyes open, groaning softly as he feels the familiar, teasing touch. He finds you curled up behind him, your arm draped over his waist and your hand idly stroking him to life.
"Mmh," He mumbles sleepily, spreading his legs slightly to give your hand better access. He loves it rough, and the slow, lazy kind of intimacy where you take your time to explore each other's bodies was a different matter that too felt the same. Wooyoung arches his back slightly, pushing his ass against your center. "One more day.”
You reach around with your other hand, gently spreading his cheeks apart. Your middle finger dips inside, expanding his tight hole. "Mmm, you're so relaxed in the morning," You whisper, your breath warm against his ear. "I think I'll take advantage of that." You purr, your voice low and sultry. "Did you sleep well after yesterday's punishment?"
Wooyoung lets out a soft laugh, his body relaxing further into your touch. "My jaw is going to be extra defined now, but I slept like a baby," He murmurs, his voice husky with sleep. "And I know with every day, you'll probably make it extra memorable."
You smile to yourself, content from the knowledge that you still have him wrapped around your finger. You continue to stroke him and prod his hole until he's whining, soft, and his morning wood dripping release onto the sheets. "Open your eyes, baby," you whisper, your breath warm against his ear.
He opens his eyes slowly, watching your hand move up and down his length. He loves watching himself get touched by you. His hips pick up the rhythm, silently fucking your tight fist. You spread his legs wider, your finger going back to teasing his hole, making him moan softly.
"Look at me while I touch you," you command in a whisper. "I want to see your face when you come for me." His eyes lock with yours, the intense eye contact making his heart race. He bites his lower lip, his breathing becoming shallow as you pick up the pace. Your other hand continues to tease his hole, the dual stimulation driving him wild. "Fuck~you're so good at this, my queen.”
Your lips curl into a satisfied smirk as you feel Wooyoung's cock throb in your hand, his praise making your ego swell. "Flatterer," you murmur teasingly, squeezing his shaft just a bit tighter. You lean in close, your lips brushing his ear as you whisper, "I'm going to make you scream my name one last time before we leave this house, baby. And then, you're going to sit in the car, at work, at home, and think about how much you love being mine for the entire drive."
Truth hurts…it was going to be the both of you. Every mile reached was a distance that travelled back to reality.
With a final, firm stroke, you take Wooyoung’s mouth by pressing your lips together as he comes undone. His body jerks as thick ropes of cum shoot from his cock, painting the sheets beneath you. You milk him through his orgasm, your hand working him until he's completely spent and panting. "Good boy."
You gently pulls your hand free, wiping the excess cum from his softening member with your thumb before bringing it to your lips. You suck your thumb clean, your eyes never leaving Wooyoung’s face as he lies there, still recovering from his intense orgasm.
"Best vacation ever..."
…
The first week back at the office has to be the worst ever.
It was expected to suck, but the unfamiliar distraught with your work was not.
It wasn’t the workload, of course, but just imagine…living the life of your literal dreams, just for it to be shot to death-execution style- by the reality of life.
Wooyoung throws himself into his work in the coming weeks-trying to distract himself from the version of you he only got to see for a week. He sits in his office, stacks of papers surrounding him with his eyes bloodshot from hours of staring at spreadsheets.
He hadn’t seen you much lately. Not the version of you that held his hand on the beach. That woman disappeared the second your heels hit the marble floor.
Suddenly, his email pings with a new message.
Subject Line: My Office. Now.
No greeting. No fluff. Just that.
He freezes, his fingers hovering over the keyboard. He feels your non-vocal tone all too well- it's the one you use when you're not to be objected to or questioned. He saves his work and rushes to your office, closing the door softly behind him.
He knocked twice with the tip of his knuckle, sharp, deliberate.
“Come in.”
"You wanted to see me?" It’s a question that comes off unsteady in surprise. How unusual. But it’s not as if you didn’t want to see each other- god, you so desperately did, but then you saw through each other. It was that very feeling that made you want to shatter like glass.
You look up from your desk, your expression mockingly serious. He notices the lack of charm you used to have in your eyes from your trip, making you look stern and unapproachable. “Yes,” you said simply. “So, answer this truthfully—did you do your reports on time this week?”
That tone. Sharp, precise, detached.
Wooyoung gulps nervously, straightening his posture as he realizes the gravity of your question. He knows how meticulous you are about deadlines. "Almost all of them," he admits cautiously, his fingers twiddling with his tie. "The last one got delayed because of an unexpected client issue."
You took it for bullshit, but staring at him for too long with your “mad” expression could not be long lasting.
As for the other reason, you didn’t want him to feel the blame for your latest and greatest inconvenience.
“Well... besides that,” you said, and slapped your palm against the desk. The sound echoed. A few papers slid off the edge like they knew to get out of your way. “We’ve got greater trouble.”
Wooyoung’s brows shot up as the only thing that shifted in his unmoving position.
“It's like the asshole purposely waited until we got comfortable to fuck it all up!" Your eyes flutter close with a long huff that pushes your jaw forward.
Wooyoung steps closer, his brain catching up to the fact that you just turned irritated to….furious.
Wooyoung butted his bottom lip as he deciphers the right path to tread carefully. “What do you mean, trouble?” Everything is good as how we left it, Ms.Hart.”
After the time that was had, the title had some getting used to. Pretty, Mistress, Queen -they were all so much better. You calm yourself and debrief, "You don't understand..this client he's notorious for seeing fight stakes and impossible deadlines. But it could make us look back if we turn him away."
"Then we'll push through," he replies firmly, leaning down to pile together the papers form of of your desk. "You're the most organized person I know. If anyone can pull off a miracle, it's you.” Once each sheet is clear from the marble tile floors, they’re shifted neatly against your tabletop. “But, if this motherfucker tries to push us around..."
Just when he buttered you up, you began to feel toasty again by his last comment. “We need to be smart about this.”, you huff. You scoot into your desk until your boobs bounce against the edge, knuckles turning white as you try and gather your thoughts. Wooyoung looks down at you, noticing how quiet and still you’ve become. It's unnerving, as you’re usually so much more confident and assertive.
"Okay…we’ll get it done." Wooyoung crosses his arms, his mind racing. He knows you're not one to be rattled easily, so this must be bad. He braces himself for the impossible task ahead. "You want to assign a whole team to this?"
You try and suck in your eyes and lips into your face as you the sincerity in his voice and expression sings its song. "This is different, Woo. This isn't some meeting or presentation we can wing out. This will take real time and preparation."
Wooyoung's expression turns concerned as you voice your fears and call him by such a name in your professional setting. "I'll make the time," he says determinedly. "I'll work late every night if I have to. You know I won't let you down, not when it comes to the company." He stretches a hand close with the palm facing down, his voice lowering. "And not when it comes to you."
You unconsciously lick your lips as you open your eyes to glance at his well-groomed fingernails as a lesser intense focus than his eye. His protective nature made your insides flutter all the more in your time of need. You push the feeling away momentarily- this is not the time to get all gooey over your second-in-command. "He wants a full proposal on his desk tomorrow morning." You rub your temples tiredly.
"Tomorrow?! Fuck, that's tight," Wooyoung curses under his breaths he pulls off the desk- you watch his hand drape off the edge. He starts pacing the room with a hand on his waist, and his mind begins working in overdrive. "Alright, here's what we'll do. I'll gather the team and brief them on the situation. We'll split the work- you take the financial projections and risk assessments," he points to you. "I'll handle the marketing strategy and client portfolio."
He sees your tired eyes and unconsciously adds, "You haven't eaten all day, have you?"
You shake your head, too exhausted to even think about food. "I don't even have the time. Doesn’t matter." You mumble, already grabbing your laptop and starting to type out the financial projections. Wooyoung watches you for a moment before gently taking the laptop from your hands.
"You're no good to anyone if you faint from hunger," He scolds gently, setting the laptop aside. "I'll order some food, and you," He points to the couch in the corner of your office, "Sit there, and don't even think about working until the food gets here."
He sits you down on the couch in your office, ‘making’ you take a break. He starts massaging your shoulders, feeling the knots and tension in your muscles. "Relax for a minute, your brain needs energy and blood flow to think clearly," he murmurs soothingly.
When the food arrives, he annoyingly persists in feeding you personally, making sure you eat every bite.
“Don’t think you’re getting off the hook for those later reports.”, you grumble, savoring the last bite off the spoon served to you.
Wooyoung brushes a thumb next to your mouth to clean the mess, just to annoyingly swipe it on the top of your nose. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
As you fix your face in the ladies' room, Wooyoung gathers the rest of the team in a meeting and begins briefing them on the situation.
You work tirelessly throughout the night, the food and rest giving you the energy to focus.
The hours blurred.
Coffee cups multiplied in a stack like rabbits.
Your office dimmed into a flickering cocoon of screen light and scribbled notes, the only sound the low hum of jazz through your speakers and the occasional, muttered curse from Wooyoung.
“You misspelled ‘competitive.’ Twice.”, you point out as he presents you a final draft.
“It’s 12:47 a.m.,” he groaned, rubbing his eyes. “Be grateful I still know how to spell my name.”
You let yourself smile for half a second. Then back to work.
It was timing that was bussing your ass, every joyous moment was too short of a dream, and the most shittiest parts were driving you to insanity.
Your vacation was joyous.
Loosing closeness with Wooyoung feels shitty.
The client that awaits you could make feel shittier. It makes you wonder if it’s a sign of awaiting relief or insufferable pain.
Somewhere around 4:00 a.m., your shoulders slumped. Your eyes glazed over.
Wooyoung noticed.
He didn’t say anything—just rolled his chair over and placed a hand lightly on the back of your neck. His thumb drew a slow circle at the base of your hairline.
You didn’t lean into it. But you didn’t pull away either.
The moment passed.
By dawn, the two of you had something polished. Sharp. Uncompromising.
You both sat back at the same time and exhaled. “This might actually work,” Wooyoung said, eyes bleary.“It has to,” you replied. Then, after a pause, almost a whisper: “Thanks for not letting me drown.”
Wooyoung’s lips twitched into a tired grin. “Says the woman who nearly drowned me after I said ‘mom bod.’”
You chuckled. Just once.
Then it was gone, replaced by the cool, clipped tone that meant business was back.
Although his smile never left, he was proud, and he felt lighter to lift your burdens.
“Alright. Let’s make sure Broker knows who he’s dealing with.”
…
LITERALLY FIVE HOURS LATER:
The office was already humming when you arrived, the usual 9 a.m. rhythm rolling in with too much energy for how little sleep you'd gotten.
You held your travel mug with both hands like it was holy scripture. Across the room, Wooyoung walked in three minutes behind you, still adjusting the cuffs of his shirt—his hair a little flatter than usual, his tie just slightly off-center.
“We alive?” he muttered under his breath as he passed you at the reception desk.
You didn’t look up, just sipped your tea.
“Barely.”
Mr. Yunho Jeong appeared at your side, a clipboard already in hand. His posture was straight, his shirt pressed, and—most importantly—his eyes weren’t rimmed with insomnia.
“Morning, Mrs. Hart. Mr. Jung,” he said evenly. The office is running on schedule. I’ve briefed the teams and prepped the meeting room.”
Wooyoung blinked at him like he was seeing the second coming. “God bless your soul.”
“I’ll keep things smooth while you two handle the big man,” Yunho added. “Don’t worry—I’ve got it.”
You gave him a nod. Not your usual smile. Just enough to say: Thank you. We needed this.
The two of you turn on foot in sync to the nearest elevator, a major awakening of Deja vu, given you were here five hours ago.
Wooyoung walks in front to push the button for you, but you secretly feel it could be a childish game.
Just to level the playing field, you spark a conversation with a serious thought in mind.
“What if we put Yunho in temporary charge while we kink this one out?"
Wooyoung considers the suggestion, his mind already racing with the implications. "It could work," he muses aloud. "Mr.Jeong is reliable and knows the ins and outs of the business. Plus, it would give us the freedom to focus on this new development without worrying about everything else falling apart."
You mused with a hm tiptoe towards Wooyoung close enough that your shoulder grazes his just a tad so that he can shift his focus on your expression. "You wanna know something? Yunho was going to be in your place if things hadn't gone so perfectly."
Wooyoung's eyes widen slightly as he looks at you, a mix of jealousy and seriousness on his face. "Well, on second thought then, let's try Mr.Park."
You tap on his chest with a grin, turning as the elevator approaches the floor level.
"That little nervous thing? I love him to death, but boy, would he crumble under that man."
The thought has you chuckling under your breath in a less obvious manner as you step out onto the floor. Wooyoung, straight-faced and hung up on a different matter, whispers, "So you're saying I'm more capable than Mr.Park but less than Mr.Jeong?" He walks beside you with no glances ahead, eager to hear your response.
You glance back at him over your shoulder, your eyes gleaming mischievously.
"You look...thrilled." Wooyoung's expression is not a similar depiction. You approach your office door, reaching inside your purse to find your specialized key.
"I'm just focused, that's all. We have a lot to discuss and plan for." As you open the door, Wooyoung closes it behind you. He moves across from you to settle at the desk, his voice lowering. "This Broker situation... I have a feeling it's going to be more complicated than we initially thought."
Your eyebrows cock in confusion from his sudden dismissal of envy. "I mean..yeah?”You mockingly scoff in disbelief and start pulling out last night's paperwork. "On that note, let's get down to actual business."
It was a washing hour before the big meeting began, and the only purpose of the discussion was strategy. A.k.a finding a way to shake Broker off your tails.
"Right,” Wooyoung mutters, feeling slightly thrown off. “First things first, we need to gather all the information we have on Broker. Financials, client lists, any potential weaknesses or leverage points."
You nod and write down the ideas on your notepad with a Pom Pom pink pen, until you pause as an idea springs into your mind. "You know what would make this so easy?"
Wooyoung's eyes set and stone on you always widens at you curiously, "What's that?" To him, your mind is always full of innovative solutions, and he's eager to hear what you’re thinking.
"This guy…” You begin, “is a manipulator of monopoly, so why don't we use that to our advantage?" You place the pen down gently, mirroring Wooyoung’s smirk as you continue, "and you know what rich people like him love? Talking! About themselves!"
Wooyoung's expression turns intrigued as you finish outlining the basis of your new plan. "So, you're suggesting we... flatter him? Stroke his ego?" He chuckles, "It's not the most dignified approach, but it just might work."
You lean forward with hands resting over Wooyoung’s in a tight bundle. "I’m telling you…he can write monologues.”
Wooyoung chuckles softly and frees both hands to gently take hold of yours.
"Alright, Mrs. Lady, so we'll play to his ego, get him talking, and try to glean as much information as we can. But…we'll need a pretense for getting close to him in the first place." He pauses, thinking. "Business would be the obvious disguise, but we're already being forced to associate with him...what do you think?"
“A social event!” you say off the top. “Somewhere, he's caught off guard. Not a pitch-just ego stroking.”
Wooyoung snaps one set of his fingers, “The Mirror Strategy,” had says with a wink. “Hold one up, let him admire himself... while we take notes.”
“We’re going to out-mirror the monopoly man,” you grinned. “Alright, Boss. I’m in.”
Simple. Short. Effective.
The Better Business duo was back in sync. Furthermore, Wooyoung and Y/n were back in sync, and their hearts palpated with the same loving rhythm as they realized it in that very moment.
"Bitch boss and her mighty trusty mini bitch sidekick!", Wooyoung excitedly proposes.
Your eyes widen as you reach over the table to cover his mouth, uncontrollably giggling at his excitement. You move your hand and wink as you collect your papers and head toward the meeting room.
"Alright, partner. Let's go catch ourselves a monopoly man. But first..." He pauses, standing up and straightening his tie. "Coffee. Lots and lots of coffee."
“Oh, absolutely, and tea?" you rhetorically ask.
"Naturally. Wouldn't dream of depriving you of your beloved pomegranate and raspberry." You gleam at his keenness for your taste and fixations. He was making an effort to patch things up and be your partner in every sense of the word.
Wooyoung winks at you before heading out to fetch your caffeine and herbal fixes. As he steps out, you can't help but feel a renewed sense of energy and purpose.
"Be prepared, Broker, you'll last name will match your economic status any day now..."
…
"Showtime," Wooyoung murmurs to you before heading inside where Broker awaits, giving you a subtle yet communicative nod.
"Let's make it happen, pronto.”,
…
In the main boardroom, Mr. Broker sits across from you and Wooyoung, his piercing gaze flicking between the pair of you. If you could share an opinion without being penalized, you would say this room is too fucking big for the three of you.
Broker leans back in his unnecessary seat across the long 20-seated table chair from your head seat and Wooyoung adjacent to you. Like a villain, in his own story, of course, his hands ate steepled beneath his chin. "I must admit, I was surprised to receive your invitation so soon. I had heard of a week's vacation for all your staff."
You smiled thinly. “We’re nothing if not efficient.”
Broker's eyes linger on you for a moment, a slight smirk playing on his lips. "Your enthusiasm is commendable, dear. Though I must say, Mrs. Hart, your firm has an... interesting reputation," he says, his voice dripping with condescension.
You lie in the same plain smile, squeezing your intertwined hands into a tightness only you know of. "What can I say? I’m just a woman- living in a woman's world."
Broker chuckles, his gaze sharpening.
"Indeed. But tell me, Mrs. Hart, what brings you and... Mr. Lee, was it?" He leans forward, resting his elbows on the desk, giving you what plays on to be his full attention.
A beat.
Wooyoung didn’t flinch. “Mr. Jung,” he corrected smoothly. “Mark Lee was the former assistant. I’ve since stepped into a more executive role.”
“Of course,” Broker replied, not bothering to apologize.
Another beat.
“Mr Jung?” You call out, and your eyes and his remain on the man across the room in his world as you acknowledge each other. “Would you like to introduce what we wanted to propose to Mr.Broker?"
Wooyoung picks up the cue, his expression serious yet attaining a ‘friendly’. "Mr. Broker…we were hoping to discuss a potential collaboration. Your company's recent expansion into tech has caught our eye, and we believe there could be some mutually beneficial opportunities."
Broker's eyes gleam with interest, but he keeps his expression neutral. "Oh?
And what sort of opportunities might those be, Mr. Jung?" He emphasizes his name, a subtle jab at the earlier mishap. "I must warn you, I'm quite selective with my partnerships."
A strategic expansion on both sides.”He slides a slim portfolio forward across the table with practiced ease, pausing as it lands neatly in front of Broker.
“Your entry into tech signals forward-thinking. Our apprenticeship initiative can frame that momentum with social equity—training the next generation, while preserving public trust.”
He glances your way briefly, just long enough to confirm that he’s pacing the conversation with you in mind. You give a faint nod of approval. You’ve rehearsed this tempo before.
Broker drums his fingers against the table, the faint tapping echoing in the quiet boardroom. His mouth quirks into a small smirk as he swivels slightly in his chair to face you instead.
“Quite the mouthpiece you’ve hired, Mrs. Hart.” He folds one ankle over the other casually, lounging like he owns the air in the room. “I see why you let him speak.”
You tilt your head, resting one arm on the chair’s backrest and tapping your pen on the folder in front of you.
“We don’t just speak. We measure.” You look him straight in the eye, unwavering.
Broker's smirk tightens, his interest piqued. He leans forward again, fingertips pressed together. “Well then. You measure… I’ll scale. Let’s get to it.”
You straighten your posture, planting your stiletto heels firmly beneath the table. Your fingers glide across the printed agenda as you speak.
“If you're serious, we propose a private showcase. Small. Controlled. Influential. It allows our proposal to be viewed and dissected by the right people.”
Broker reaches forward to finally open the portfolio Wooyoung pushed over. He flips through the first few pages slowly, his thumb grazing each corner. Then, he looks up, the slightest glint in his eye.
“You’ve done your homework, Mrs. Hart.”He turns to Wooyoung. “And the buy-in?”
Wooyoung clasps his hands together again, sitting just forward enough to engage, but never inching into desperation. “Tri-split model. Tech expertise from your firm. Implementation and logistics from us. You get financial return and front-page exposure. Our team runs the event. You get to play host.”
Broker closes the folder slowly with a quiet thud. He folds his arms, leaning back again. His gaze settles on you, sharp. “What do I get besides profit?”
You hold your ground, then lean in just slightly, just enough to break a piece of the extension of space between you.
“Legacy,” you say plainly. “And what businessmen like you love most: influence. We build the story. You become its benefactor.”
A long silence settles.
Broker rises from his chair, brushing invisible lint from his lapel. “Then let’s see if you’re worth the invitation.”
He rounds the corner of the table slowly, offering you his hand. You stand, heels clicking softly against the marble as you meet him. Your handshake is precise—cool, firm, professional.
He then turns to Wooyoung, stepping closer than necessary. “Mr. Jung.” He extends a hand—this time with an exaggerated pause. He sizes up Wooyoung’s grip as their hands meet, his brow arching almost imperceptibly. “I hope your presentation is as polished as your pitch.” He lets the comment hang, then gives a curt nod and strides toward the exit.
The door closes.
Silence.
Wooyoung exhales, loosening his tie as he slumps slightly in his seat.
“Was that a compliment or a veiled threat?”
You sit back down without looking at him, flipping one of the documents back open.
“With men like that? There’s no difference.”
Wooyoung meets your gaze, his expression thoughtful. "I think we've planted a seed, but you're right, we need to nurture it carefully." He leans back in his chair, crossing his arms. "The presentation will make or break this deal."
"I'm so tense to even focus on that right now, but we have a week till then. So we can't afford to slack all too much."
Wooyoung's eyes soften with understanding. He reaches out and gently rubs your shoulders. "Hey, we've come this far. Trust in our preparation and each other." His voice is warm and reassuring. "Why don't we take a short break, clear our heads?
"What do you suggest we do right now?"
Wooyoung grins mischievously. "How about we grab some lunch? My treat. We can decompress, then dive back into work with fresh minds." He stands up and offers his hand to you.
"Fine, but no funny business."
He chuckles, pulling you up on your feet. "Scout's honor." He mimes the scout's honor gesture, which makes you roll your eyes but smile nonetheless. "And maybe," he continues in a lower voice as they exit the office, “ just a little bit of funny business after we clock out?"
You smooth out your bubblegum pink plaid blazer, giving Wooyoung a thoughtful glare, although you were already firm in your answer. "Let's just see how you're behaving then."
He winks at you in a flirty trick, placing a hand on the small of your back as they walk out of the building. "Deal. But just so you know, I'm planning to be on my best behavior... until I'm not." He leans in close, his breath warm against your ear.
….
12:36 PM
Your heels click with clarity against the polished marble as you exit your office. It’s just before lunch- too late for a meeting, and the floor too quiet for anyone to expect your sudden appearance.
That only meant one of two things: someone was getting fired… or something was about to change.
You make your way toward Yunho’s cubicle. His head is buried in a spreadsheet, brows furrowed, glasses resting at the bridge of his nose.
You lean over his desk, arms crossing the ledge like a poised predator. “Yunho.”
His fingers freeze above the keyboard.
Slowly, he looks cautious, yet curious. You smile-faint, unreadable.
Across the office, Wooyoung lifts his head from behind his monitor, catching the interaction with sharp eyes. He watches as Yunho straightens in his chair, clearly surprised by whatever you’re saying. A nod, then a second one. Then Yunho stands to follow you.
You return, Yunho at your side. There’s a little swing in your walk, your grin simmering with satisfaction.
“Back to my office, boys. We’ve got plans to discuss.”
Wooyoung rises smoothly from his desk and meets you both at the door, giving Yunho a brief but respectful nod.
Inside, you take your seat behind the desk with effortless command. The two men settle across from you—Wooyoung lounges back casually, Yunho sitting upright with his hands in his lap.
“Mr.Jeong,” Wooyoung starts, his tone direct but friendly, “we’ve got a situation that needs our full attention. We want you to take the lead at the office while we handle things externally. Temporarily.”
Before Yunho can speak, you interject—not with urgency, but with clarity.
“We’re not handing you more work for less reward. Quite the opposite.” Your gaze slides to Wooyoung, silently cueing him to follow your lead.
“We both agreed unanimously that you’re the right fit. Reliable. Level-headed. You know the place like the back of your hand.”
Wooyoung leans forward slightly, hands firm as one on the tabletop.
“We’ll have your usual tasks redistributed. This is a temporary promotion—with all the support that comes with it.” You rest your elbows on the desk and fold your hands together, evaluating any discomfort that will allow you to provide reassurance. “What do you think?”
Yunho looks between the two of you, processing the gravity of the offer. “I appreciate the trust. Really.” His jaw tenses slightly, then relaxes. “I’ll do my best to keep things running while you handle the Broker situation.”
You exhale in relief, a genuine smile surfacing. You rise from your seat and extend your hand over the desk.
“Thank you, Yunho. If you’ve got our backs, just know we’ve got yours.”
He stands and shakes your hand firmly.
Wooyoung, already halfway out of his chair, beats him to the second handshake. “We’ll walk you through the logistics today. You’ll have everything you need.”
Wooyoung turns to you with a glance that almost feels too professional. “Shall we begin outlining the next steps?” You study him briefly. Something about his tone, his posture—it’s sharp, formal, and desperately involved. “Of course.”
You flick your attention back to Yunho.“Take that file with you, and review anything you need. If questions come up, we’re here.”
Yunho nods once, grasping the folder you hold out. “I’ll be sure to keep in touch. Thank you.” He exits soon after with a determined stride.
The moment the door clicks shut, the air shifts.
Wooyoung turns to you, eyes narrowed with quiet focus. “You look... thrilled.”
You raise an eyebrow, lips quirking faintly.
“You sound unusually stiff.”
He huffs a soft laugh. “Just focused. We’ve got a chess game ahead of us.”
You lean back into your chair, gaze narrowing as you reach for your pen. “Then let’s draw the board.”
You don’t answer right away as he asks you questions.
You observe him instead.
The way his fingers fidget with the cuff of his sleeve.
The fact that his cologne’s faded—it smells more like office air than beach skin.
Your hand finds the pen resting atop your notepad.
…
As you settle back into work from a momentary break on the presentation, you find yourself in distrait state. Your swinging heel accidentally catches Wooyoung’s clothed shin from under the desk. He flinches with a soft yelp.
“Ow—” His voice is sharp but hushed. You look up instantly, guilt flickering across your face. “Sorry,” you whisper.
He shoots you a glare, but it melts in seconds into something more smug.
Without breaking eye contact, Wooyoung unfastens his black vest and tosses it onto the couch behind him, then slowly rolls up the sleeves of his silk button-up shirt. The motion is casual, almost indifferent.
Except it's not. His forearms flex just enough to make sure you notice.
And, unfortunately, you do. Your gaze lingers too long—first on the roll of his sleeves, then up his arms, then back to his smirk.
He notices. Of course, he notices.
Wordlessly, he reaches out and grabs your ankle, lifting your foot onto his lap with practiced ease. His fingers begin circling your heel, pressing into knots with maddening precision, all while his other hand scrolls through the pitch deck on his laptop.
The contact is clinical. Calm. But your pulse is anything but.
You swallow hard. You’re hyperaware of how exposed your ankle is beneath your slacks, how gently he’s kneading your skin, and how no one else is around.
A glance at the clock. 4:45 p.m. Fifteen minutes until closing.
Wooyoung’s hand inches upward—calf, then higher—applying slow pressure. His knuckles brush under the hem of your trousers.
It’s been weeks since the vacation. Since things… simmered down. Since you last touched. The room feels heavy with everything unsaid.
You clear your throat—loudly—startling him just as the clock hits five. You both freeze, your bodies wound like springs ready to snap.
And then you do.
Chairs screech back. Papers scatter. You both scramble to the elevator with barely a glance exchanged, your shoulders knocking as you speed-walk past confused coworkers. Inside, the elevator doors slide closed, trapping the silence and the heat.
Wooyoung wastes no time.
He pins you lightly against the cushioned wall, his lips crushing into yours like he’s been waiting to breathe. You melt into it, gripping his shoulders as the elevator rises. Then—
Ding.
The doors open on an empty floor.
You both pull apart and pant, freezing still like sculptors of the ‘Night at the Museum’.
“We need to get out of here,” he mutters.
You nod. “Now.” You bolt for the garage, legs moving faster than your thoughts. The air is thick with everything you can’t say aloud. As you reach your cars, you throw a glance over your shoulder. “My place or yours?”
He doesn’t miss a beat. “Yours is further.”
You pull out the passenger's seat door and commend his answer. “Yours, then.”
The cars roar to life—your engines growling in sync. The drive is fast, silent, electric. At red lights, you pretend not to thirst for him. But you do.
You’re already unbuckling before he’s even parked. The second the door clicks open, you’re out, heels clacking on pavement as you head toward his building.
He catches up, wordlessly unlocking the door and pulling you inside. It slams behind you, echoing like a thunderstorm.
Like something inevitable.
The interior of his place mimicked the vibe of yours, echoing his personality, his persona, and his favorite color, black.
"You were so fucking hot today owning up to that bastard you know that?" Wooyoung growls approvingly, backing you up against the door as he kicks it shut. Stumbling in, his eyes glow like a black cat’s in the depths of night. You used them as a guide, and he too memorized the layout of the space in his way.
"Was I?" he asks, his hands roaming your body possessively. "And what else was I doing that you liked?"
You tut your teeth and gaze at his lips seductively. "What? Now that we're at your house, you're the one pressing people and asking questions?"
Wooyoung's eyes darken at the challenge in your voice. He steps closer, his hands reaching out to grab your waist and sweep you off your feet. You let out a small yelp of surprise as he carries you over to the bedroom and drops you off into the plush fabric.
His charge of position rests between your legs as you sit up and adjust. It was a dangerous play that needed you to establish logical rules. "Well…I wouldn't mind a change in our roles, as long as you don't get too lost in your character kitty."
Wooyoung smirks and shifts on his knees at your playful warning. "I think we both know I'm very good at keeping my roles in line."
“Do we?”
He leans in close, his breath hot against your ear as he whispers, "As of right now, I'm in charge of making you feel very, very good." Woo's hands slide up your thighs, pushing your skirt up as he goes. “And that is a role…I’ve always played.”
His fingers play keys on the nerves of your inner thighs. And comically so, every press nearer to your crotch emitted a louder moan. "You're so fucking sexy," he growls, before running over his hand over your mound, copping off a feel you through the seams.
Your back arches, fingers gripping Wooyoung's hair tightly as he continues to tease your heat. His hands grip your thighs firmly, keeping you in place as he explores every trigger of yours with a press or rub.
Your eyes gloss as you shatter around his fingers, your breath coming in short gasps as you ride out the first waves of pleasure. "Mmm, a fast learner," you purr, signaling him to climb up your body and claim your mouth.
You moan into his mouth while he savors you in this new angle. Wooyoung pushes in to be more of a risk-taker, forcing his hand to feel the raw thing. “I only learn from the best.”
Just when you think you can't take anymore, Wooyoung adds two fingers inside you, curling them to hit that sweet spot deep within you. He pinches on your clit with renewed vigor, his free hand reaching up to pinch and twist your nipples through your under shirt.
"So in all that time…nghhh… you were listening, but you just decided…fuck…you wanted to be a brat out of your own free will?” Wooyoung chuckles darkly, the vibrations against your body sending you over the edge.
“I never wanted you to be easy with me, Mistress.” He extracts his hand from your underpants. “So how will you deal with me now?”
In a forward answer, you wrap your legs around him, pulling him fast against you. "Inside me,” you pant, "Now, Woo."
Wooyoung grins mischievously, reaching down to grab your ankles on both sides of him on the bedding. He strips you and himself, unbuckling his pants and immediately onto you. He lines up at your entrance and slowly pushes in, his eyes locked onto you's. "Like this?" he asks teasingly, burying himself to the hilt.
You let out a low moan, your body stretching to accommodate him. "More," you demand even in your position- your heels digging into Woo's back with curled toes. He obliges, pulling back before snapping his hips forward again.
Like clockwork, your bodies fall into a rhythm, each thrust heightening new desires for each other.
Your walls squeeze around Woo's cock with every stroke, trying to pull him deeper inside you as if you wanted to absorb him whole.
Your hands claw at his back, leaving red marks as you hold on for dear life. "Fuck me, Woo!" you beg, your voice hoarse from screaming his name. "Fuck me like you own me!"
Wooyoung shudders as his pace quickens, his breathing growing ragged as he pounds into you. "You are mine," he growls, his voice low and possessive. "Every inch of you belongs to me."
He leans down, his teeth sinking into the soft flesh where your neck meets your shoulder.
You both are subdued in both pain and pleasure, your body trembling as Wooyoung bears the strength to uphold himself and marks you as his. You wrap your you arms around his neck, holding him close as he continues to fuck your with reckless abandon. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, accompanied by their desperate gasps and moans.
Your legs start to shake- your body on the verge of another intense orgasm.
Wooyoung easily senses your impending climax and changes his angle, hitting a spot inside you that makes you see stars.
You scream his name- voice echoing off the walls as she comes hard around his cock.
Suddenly, Wooyoung pulls out and flips you onto your hands and knees. He grabs your hips and pulls them back with a surprising super strength, spreading them wide before slamming back inside you. The new angle allows him to hit your g-spot on the dot with every thrust, sending you into a spiral of ecstasy.
"Look at that ass bounce." he smacks it deliberately, making you whine. "My ass. Not Mark’s, or Yunho's"
You smirk for a bit before your back to making out an “O” with your mouth.
There was a doubt in your mind that he didn’t overlook the situation.
Wooyoung sets a brutal pace, his hips slamming against your ass with each powerful thrust. The wet sound of your coupling fills the room, punctuated by the sharp smacks of Wooyoung’s hand on your rear. "Say it," he demands, his voice rough with lust.
"Your ass," you gasps out between moans, your voice trembling. "It's your ass, Woo. Only yours." You pushed back against him, desperate for more of his punishment and his cock. Now you could finally understood his thrill. "Fuck me, Woo. Fuck me hard and make it yours."
Wooyoung’s grip on your hips tightens as he speeds up his pace, his breathing heavy and erratic. "That's right, mistress," he growls. "This is my hole. My property." He spanks you again, the sound echoing through the room as you wail your approval.
Your eyes roll back in your head as Woo’s cock hits that perfect spot inside you again and again. You feel like you’re going to pass out from the overwhelming pleasure.
Suddenly, Wooyoung stills, his hips freezing as he buries himself deep inside you.
You shudder as your back arches inward and outward. Wooyoung lets out a strangled groan, his body trembling as your wet mound envelopes his sensitive tip. With a loud grunt, he explodes inside you again, filling your pussy with his hot seed as he pulses against your hole.
You look back and show off a wicked grin "Did you cum twice?"
Wooyoung’s face contorts in a mixture of pain and pleasure as he stares at the sight before him. "Fuck, yes," he hisses, his eyes glued to your pussy lips, still glistening with his cum. He reaches down to spread them apart, revealing the mess he made inside you.
You wiggle your backside enticingly, smearing Wooyoung's release onto your inner thighs. "And what are you going to do about it, hmm?" You cast him another sultry look over your shoulder. "Going to clean it up, my kitten?"
Wooyoung's eyes dilate at your words, his body stirring back to life despite just finding release. He didn’t think it was possible, but he can surpass the bounds he was looking over the edge of. He leans down, his tongue snaking out to lap at his release from your inner thigh.
You moan softly, eyes fluttering shut as Wooyoung’s tongue cleans you up. You feels him nuzzle your folds, breathing in your scent before he slowly licks up your slit. "Mmm, look at you, licking up your mess”, you moan.
Mouth muffled against your core, Wooyoung growls, "Shut up, and spread your legs wider." You eagerly comply, your legs trembling as he continues to feast.
Your hips buck against his face, desperate for more. You reach back to run your fingers through his hair, guiding his mouth to your sensitive clit. "Eat it, kitten," you command, voice dripping with authority. "Lick my fucking clit until l come again."
Wooyoung moans against your flesh, the vibrations sending jolts of pleasure through the core of your body. He obliges your command, lavishing your swollen bud with his tongue.
Your breath hitches as Wooyoung sucks your sensitive nub between his lips, his tongue flicking against it. Your body tenses, and your release builds quickly. "Yes, just like that," she pants, your fingers tightening in Woo's hair. "Oh God, I'm coming!"
Woo redoubles his efforts, his mouth working in tandem with his fingers as he stretches you with his digits.
Your body convulses, inner muscles clenching around his fingers as you shout from your release. Wooyoung keeps going, drawing out your peak until you collapse onto bed as if you were boneless.
Wooyoung finally pulls his face away, his mouth and chin glistening with your essence. His eyes are glassy with devotion—feral but soft—as he crawls up your body, pressing a kiss to your navel, your sternum, then finally your lips.
You meet him halfway, your tongue tasting the aftermath of your shared pleasure. Arms loop around his neck, you pull him close, his body heavy and warm against yours.
"You're so good to me," you murmur against his mouth, your voice still thick with pleasure. "My little angel."
“I’ll always be good to you,” he whispers, lips grazing your cheek. “Especially now… being apart like that? It was unbearable.”
Your fingers drift to the hollows of his cheeks—slightly sunken, evidence of too many sleepless nights and overworked days. You tap his thigh gently.
“Lie back.”
He obeys without question, letting you pull him into your chest. One arm wraps protectively around your waist. His breath steadies against your skin.
“I get you. I got you. I’m sorry.”
He doesn’t answer—only nuzzles deeper.
…
The Next Morning…
The scent of you still lingers on the sheets, and for a moment, Wooyoung doesn’t open his eyes. He just… listens. To the silence. To the space beside him. The weight of reality is settling in again.
You’re gone.
Business hours are ticking.
He exhales sharply, swinging his legs out of bed and rubbing the back of his neck. His body aches in the best way, but emotionally, he’s already shifting gears. The transition is always the hardest part.
You belonged to the world again. He just… worked in it.
At the Office…
Back at his desk, Wooyoung sifts through morning reports. He’s trying to focus, but his thoughts drift. To your hand on his chest last night. To your whispered apology. To the way his name tasted coming from your lips when no one else could hear it.
Ping.
His screen flashes—your office line.
Then—
A knock.
Mr. Broker is standing at his office door. Crisp suit. Blank expression, and the air seems denser from the weight of his mere presence.
"Mr. Jung," Broker says, tone neutral but clipped. "A word, please."
Wooyoung nods once, hiding his confusion behind a polite mask. He clicks into your call and mutters quickly, “Later,” before hanging up and saving his work.
The walk to the boardroom office is silent.
But Wooyoung feels it. Something’s off. Broker walks with a different rhythm today—slower, heavier. Almost like he’s dragging a secret behind him.
In the Boardroom…
The door closes with a soft click.
Wooyoung stands for a moment before taking his seat across from Broker, adjusting the cuffs of his sleeves like armor. He meets the older man’s gaze evenly.
Broker doesn’t waste time.
"I need to talk to you about something,” he says, leaning forward, hands steepled beneath his chin. “Something that involves both of our companies... and a mutual interest.”
Wooyoung’s jaw tightens.
Broker continues, voice slow and deliberate. “Specifically, your relationship… with Mrs. Hart.”
What the hell could Broker be talking about?
Find out on the next episode of:
WHIPS.CHAINS.PLEASURE.&.PAIN.
THANK YOU FOR READING TO THE END.
PLEASE DO NOT COPY MY ORIGINAL WORKS, reblogs are appreciated and accepted. Stealing and modifying my work or publishing out on other platforms is not.
Episode 4 is being drafted at the current moment, and it’ll probably be 2 episodes left in completion of the series. I’m also thinking about working on a one shot in between episode releases.
I’ll run a poll soon for your thoughts on my ideas! But don’t be afraid to message me either. 💗
TAGS/WARNINGS: Cursing / Name-Calling, Dom-Sub Roleplay (Consensual), Power Imbalance, Slow Burn, Tension, Banter, Flirting, Jealousy, Manipulation, Stress, Explicit Sexual Content, Mentions & Depictions of Sex, Roleplay, Dirty Talk, Use of Alcohol, Office Intimacy, Shower Intimacy, Oral Sex, Handjob, Slapping, Whip Play (Brutal), Rope Bondage
WORD COUNT: TBD
🐈⬛~🎀 Episode 1: After seven long years, you’ve fired your assistant because of your differences. Your new hire, Wooyoung Jung wants nothing but the same as you do, and a lot more than you’d think.
🐈⬛~🎀 Episode 2: The atmosphere between you and Wooyoung changes your dynamic for the worse since that heated Friday night- until things gets exceptionally better.
🐈⬛~🎀 Episode 3: After a dreamlike escape, Mrs. Hart and Wooyoung return to the grind, where the heat between them simmers just beneath the surface. As they navigate rising tension, a high-stakes deal with the powerful Mr. Broker threatens to expose more than just their business plans.
🐈⬛~🎀 Episode 4: The plan to push Broker out is finally in motion, but trust doesn't come easy anymore. Wooyoung starts watching Yunho too closely— not out of malice, but caution. But just as the tension cools and closeness returns, a message arrives. And in a single moment, everything they’ve built starts to feel fragile
🐈⬛~🎀 Episode 5: The growing pressure of keeping your connection private blur the lines between your personal and professional lives. Wooyoung pulls away, influenced by the threatening messages from a mysterious sender. But as the risk of exposure deepened, so did your need for each other. In the end, that fear brought you back together — not just out of love, but out of survival.
🐈⬛~🎀 SUMMARY: After a dreamlike escape, Mrs. Hart and Wooyoung return to the grind, where the heat between them simmers just beneath the surface. As they navigate rising tension, a high-stakes deal with the powerful Mr. Broker threatens to expose more than just their business plans.
🐈⬛~🎀 A/N: A few episodes left here,and let’s hope my ass won’t drag it out for long.
🐈⬛🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾
Day 3
The sun kissed you both warmly as you strolled along the beach hand in hand. The freshness in the air was so crisp, like the cooling water that crashed along your feet.
It was odd that, as business partners with sexual relations- no strings attached- that you were holding onto each other by a thread. Although you had considered it friendship before, you now realize the double knot of security that existed between you two.
To your surprise, preparing for this trip was instant and easy. For both of your sakes, you try not to think about how instant and easy it can be become sluggish and difficult in any matter of time.
Although, was a sense of longing for peace in the private land. Wooyoung never looked so natural in all your days spent together. The sun gave his black hair sparkling brown undertones, his skin was like a gem in the way it had golden, his linen white clothing fooled you into depicting purity, and his eyes still held that depth and mystery.
He turns to you with the same thoughts in mind, eyeing over your mesh hot pink cover-up dress and the matching bikini, except a man of his character let it be known to you without shame. "Can I request an extension for this vacation? Just you, me, and miles of sand… just for a little bit longer?" Wooyoung's eyes take over those things in order, like the greatest fortunes were foreseen before him.
You peer over to the setting sun resting over the boundless sea, and the darkening of the moonlight is casting over. Wooyoung’s arm is jerked into you as you grow to be entranced, snuggling firm to your side. “There always has to be a balance.” You grab hold of the area between his hip and his waist, raking your nails along his skin. “We have our time now to rest and all, but when the sun rises on another day, we have to put our energy toward the things that require our attention.”
Your mind transversed back into its gears of labor. All you could smell in this moment was freshly printed papers, all you could feel beneath your dandy feet were kitten heels, the crashing ocean beside you sounded distant from the booting of your computer inside your head, all you could see was a giant box of land needed to be enclosed for office space, the salt in the air sprinkling between the tubes connecting your nose and mouth reminded you of tears that fell down your face into your mouth when you’re alone.
Yet, the feeling of Wooyoung’s hand in yours made you feel like you were in both places at the same time. He was still here, just closer, warmer, and happier…and you were too.
Wooyoung shivers at your touch, his abs clenching under your gentle yet firm caress. On the contrary, he groans from your spoken words, placing his muscular hands over your slender ones with a boyish pout. “Why do you have to be like that right now.~” You watch his lips push forward in adornment, but he’s quick to claim yours that very second. “You should be more like the older woman who lives next to your apartment.”
Even though it was snarky, you can’t help but laugh as you remember Wooyoung’s story about the impromptu elevator conversation with Ms.Weilderman about “helping you work your stressors out.” The comedic timing has your hand slapping against his previously whipped chest. (Something that slipped from your current free-spirited mind).
Wooyoung hisses dramatically as he closes your distance, clutching his chest and leaning against you for support. "It burns so good. But still…it burns…aaahhh~.”
His closeness makes his presence too strong to ignore, and you find yourself throwing your arms over his backside as you fiddle with his behind. “You shouldn’t have brought Ms.Weilderman into this!” You kiss the spots of highlight on his face as an apology. Wooyoung's eyes fluttered closed as you kissed him, his pout quickly melting away. Although a mischievous smirk appears-he pulls from your gentle hold and closer to the deep blue, nearly letting you tumble into a mouthful of sand.
His escape is limitless, but he opts to run into the sea, thinking you wouldn’t chase him after wanting to just tan for the day, but you surprise him by running straight in.
The rush in your speed kicks the sand up high into the wind from the Earth's floor like explosive bullets. “Get over here, you little rascal! You know my sore spots won’t let me get that far!”
Wooyoung laughs heartily as he pushes backward into the water, always glancing back to make sure you’re following like a playful boy. His manly physique is washed over contact into the shallow waves, the cool water lapping at his waist. "Come on, pretty! Since when has pain ever stopped you?"
The water hadn’t even surpassed your knees, and you were already quivering. You watch as Wooyoung swam further until his shoulders and above are all to be seen. He comes to a still, which pushes you to be reluctant to move. Your jiggling body cascades further into the coldness of the ocean water to meet Wooyoung closer on the inside.
The two of you engage in a playful tug-of-war with your bodies as you subtly approach him to hide your plan to attack. Wooyoung cheats by wrapping his arms around your waist from underneath the water to pull you further out into the waves. In rebellion, you use your weighted strength to keep him in the shallow area, utilizing the curves of your thighs wrapped around his slim hips.
Wooyoung’s eyes widen as your curvaceous form causes his actions to backfire. He squeals as he rubs his hands over your frame, which only encourages you to cling on. "This is unfair! You're using your entire mom-bod as a weapon!"
You abruptly stop grounding your weight and wear a baffled expression… because did you just hear, “Mom bod?! You just don’t know your limits, do you kitty~?”
Wooyoung's eyes widen as he realizes his mistake, his mouth falling open in a comical 'O' shape. He backpedals quickly, his hands raised in surrender. "No, no, no, that's not what I meant at all! I meant it in the most loving, respectful way possible!”
You swam closer with his every pedal backward, leading him to change paths into a full circle to prevent going into the depths of the ocean. “I think we’re in too deep, pretty.”
Your smile grew back bigger with every move because he was as timid as a crab burying itself by the shore. You slowly began to sink your toes amongst the algae on the ocean floor to move at a bait-catching rate. Your knees bend deep, making your head the only visible thing compared to a swamped alligator. “Do you know how a shark hunts, Wooyoung?".
As you round about back closer to the shore rocks poke sharply beneath your feet. Your resolve began to slowly chip off in pieces until Wooyoung jumped up and fell backward.
A wave of water is incoming from your arms uplifted waves into Wooyoung’s face, confusingly blinding him. You take a deep breath and dive beneath the surface, leaving Wooyoung standing bewildered in the shallow water. Moments later, a burst of bubbles burst forth from behind him, and you pop up from behind, washing him over with salty seawater.
His eyes shut reflexively as the splashes crash onto him, his arms pinwheeling wildly as he tries to keep his head above water, but he ends up tumbling under. He emerges moments later, coughing and sputtering as he combs his plastered hair to the top of his head, sexily spitting a fountain of water on his chest.
Your jaw mobilizes with mild constraint. Every little mishap your little kitty seems to have is simmered down with his sexy appeal.
But two can play that game.
Wooyoung grins, noticing your smoldering gaze. He wipes the water from his face slowly, making a show of it as he drags his hands down his chest, abs, and hips. “That wouldn't have been a bad way to go. Considering it was you.”
As he continues to pose and tease, your expression grows more heated. You take a deep, steadying breath, easing out of the water, your movements slow and deliberate. Wooyoung's grin fades, confusion knitting his brows as he watches your sudden retreat.
As your feet reunited with the sand, which has grown cooler and collected in the form of your soles. You turn to jog back to the villa and Wooyoung rushes to follow, but the rocks underneath the surface cripple his strength above. "I think it's time we took a second shower!" You say opening the sliding door on the back deck in the distance, dropping your wet clothing through the windows, and walking out towards the obstruction of his view.
Wooyoung's mouth falls open as your words and actions sink in, his eyes tracking your movements hungrily before and after your disappearance.
He hops out of the water and onto the shore, dripping wet and shivering, but his erection, tenting his wet briefs, overpowers the cold breeze. "What?! Sharks don’t swim away from their food! Eat me!” he calls out, his voice laced with mock outrage.
He pushes open the sliding door in a hurry, stepping into follow the trail of your wet puddles on the hardwood floor. He tiptoes down the hallway, past the beaded curtains, with his heart pounding with a mix of nervousness and excitement.
He pauses as his chest makes contact with the bathroom door, listening intently. The sound of running water and the soft humming of your sweet voice reach his ears. With a deep breath of excitement, he slowly turns the knob, and pushes the door open.
As he walks in, the shower door is floating on its hinges, but beyond that welcomes your body, sudded up with soapy bubbles- the scent of strawberry vanilla filling the humid air. You’re watchful of his arrival, but you continue humming, not paying him no never mind.
Wooyoung's eyes widen as he takes in the erotic sight before him. Your voluptuous body coated in shimmering bubbles, the darkening shade of your nipples just barely peeking through. The scent of strawberries mingling with the steam creates an intoxicating atmosphere.
Suddenly, your humming is interrupted by a non-rhythmic harmony that draws out into a longing moan. You fully turn to display your body to Wooyoung, pulling at your hardened nipples and smoothing over your torso down to your ass. "I just can't help myself..."
Wooyoung's breath hitches as your actions ratchet up the intensity. His eyes dart between your face and your running hands, captivated by the sensuous display. He licks his lips unconsciously, his breathing growing heavier as he steps further into the room. "Please. I can help you, mistress."
In that moment, your moans transition
harmoniously to a ferocious warning growl. "Not another step, kitty." You turn to face the wall with your legs wide, switching your ass to the front and back of the shower in Wooyoung’s face.
Wooyoung freezes, his heart pounding in his chest as he takes in the sight before him. Your wide-open legs frame your glistening pussy perfectly that makes his mouth water contrasted to the salty ocean. He swallows hard, his resolve weakening as he wishes to trespass on your boundaries. "M-mistress...". He swallows hard, his mouth watering at the forbidden view. "Fuck," he whispers, his resolve crumbling by another bit.
You begin to run your fingers through your folds, splitting the direction of the running water. "He's so bad, and I don't know why. But it makes me feel so good~." He watches as your head turns with a flushed expression. His own hands clench and unclench at his sides, longing to touch both you and himself, but held back by your commanding presence. His cock jumps with fever-shifting the muscle in his abs.
"Please...”
You begin to moan louder as your fingers ride back up to ghost over your lips. Then you bring the two back together, sinking it in deep into your hole. "Augghh~…It turns me on just thinking about it. His gorgeous black hair, those tantalizing, piercing brown eyes, and then that veiny fucking body. If I were a vampire… I’d slowly suck him dry."
Wooyoung’s chest heaves, his desire spiking as he listens to your dirty words and watches your fingers disappear into your warmth. His hands ball into fists, the temptation to disobey your commands and touch himself growing unbearable. "M-mistress..! I’m begging you...".
His cries drive you to finger yourself at an animalistic pace. Quenching sounds of the water mixed inside your core make the most vulgar noises as the echoing walls amplify them around the room.
Wooyoung's self-resolve snaps completely in that moment. Every pump plays drums in his head. With a guttural moan, he gives in to temptation and wraps his hand around his bare throbbing erection, pumping furiously in rhythm with your actions. "I'm sorry, mistress...l can't hold back...". His voice is tight with need.
Your lips smear against the walls as his fapping reached your ears. "You know what really pisses me the fuck off?" You chuckle against the surface, pleasing yourself with a quickening pace while your fingers cramp from the exercise, but when has pain ever stopped you?
"The little slut knows the kind of effect he has on me. But can you guess what he doesn't know?" Wooyoung's face is a mask of concentration, his hand flying over his hard flesh as he matches your unpredictable rhythm.
"W-what, mistress?" he grits out, his voice hoarse with desire. "What doesn't he know?" His hips buck forward, pushing his hand harder against his erection.
Outcomes of laughter are caught off by your own whine- your fingertips plunging into a sweeter spot."My pussy... augh… can control him…through all his senses."
Wooyoung’s eyes roll back, and he lets out a choked moan, his whole body tensing.
"Oh god, mistress...that's...that's so wrong...". His hand speeds up, his breathing growing more ragged with each passing second. "Please, mistress...l need to come..."
You unclench your cut from your bombarding fingers and starts working quick on your clit. "Then fucking come with me you slutty kitty. FUCK!”
Wooyoung throws his head back with a roar as his orgasm crashes over him, his release shooting out over his fist and onto the bathroom floor. Your shout of ecstasy mingles with his, the combined sounds of pleasure echoing off the steamy walls.
You place both hands on the shower walls as your legs grow weak. Your
face even twitches on the walls, and your weight becomes too heavy to uphold. You feel yourself slipping until you’re caught by Wooyoung, who rushes forward, still panting heavily with his arms wrapped around your waist, holding you close as you lean back against him.
He buries his face in your shoulder, his fingers digging gently into your skin as he tries to catch his breath. "I told you that I could help…"
…
Day 4
As the golden hour approaches, Wooyoung is sprawled out on a hammock strung up between two trees in the backyard. The warm evening breeze rustles the leaves above him, casting dappled shadows on his relaxed form.
You retrieve a polished wooden spatula from the drying rack after dinner, twirling it around and smacking it in the palm of your hand as a tester. You watch as the skin transitions from its original color to a deep red-a sly grin grew on your lips.
As the sun dips lower, painting the sky with hues of orange and red, Wooyoung’s peaceful hammock time comes to an abrupt end. He feels you approach, the creak of the wooden porch steps giving you away.
He cranes his neck to watch you, his eyes widening as he sees the wooden spatula in your hand.
“What do you think?” You ask without obvious context.
"Mmph?" Wooyng answers with a quirked brow- watching intently as you smack the wooden spatula against your palm again, the sound echoing loudly. His body tenses slightly, his mind racing with curiosity and anticipation. “You’re thinking of using that on me?”
"Mmhmm." You nod, a devilish glint in your eye as you step closer to the hammock. You reach out and gently grab Woo's ankle, giving it a little encircled rub before traveling up and down his shin. “Two more days after this one, and I want to have you in every way possible.”
“Then let’s spend our time exploring these possibilities of yours.”
Moments later in the bedroom…
Wooyoung swallows hard, watching as you test the spatula again. He spreads his legs slightly, his body unconsciously preparing itself. “You know,” He smirks, trying to hide his nervousness, “Most would use their hands."
Wooyoung quickly faces the bed again as you press into the arch of his back- burying his face in the blankets. “I can’t believe you’re making me say this, but you should know I’m not like most kitty.~” Your conniving voice makes his whole body tenses in anticipation, his backside clenching and unclenching.
The first smack from the wooden spoon catches him off guard, the sharp, stinging pain drawing a surprised yelp from his throat. His face soon resolves into happiness as the pain deliciously lingers.
Thus to say, he went to sleep that night…very cheeky. With his bum bare and a t-shirt, he lies comfortably on your chest.
…
Day 5
The afternoon rolls around, and you’re lounging on the couch, munching on a sweet honey crisp apple while Wooyoung freshens up in the shower.
Not long after, as he walks into the room, his eyes are immediately drawn to the apple in your hand. His mere observation, predictably so, formulated an action of mischief.
You leap from the comfort of your position, reaching out to pluck the apple from his grasp.
Wooyoung smirks in amusement at your advances, taking a large, crunchy bite before you can snatch it away. "Hey!" You exclaim playfully, but then he eggs it on further, dulling your expression by the minute. He swallows his mouthful, still grinning, as his pink lips glisten with apple juice.
You lunge for the apple again, but Wooyoung pulls it back high into the air as he mockingly bites at your hand instead. "MMPH!”
You yank your hand away quickly as the initial pain electrifies your senses. “Ow, what the fuck!” On your pinky's edge, you found half-moon-shaped indents and trickles of glistening juice and saliva. "Did you really just bite me?"
Wooyoung's grin widens, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Maybe…" he says innocently, his voice dripping with sarcasm. He pulls his hand down to take another bite of the apple, but you quickly snatch it away, holding it behind your back from his advances.
Your eyes flash with anger and arousal, holding the apple tightly as your knuckles turn white. "You bit me hard, you little brat," you hiss, your voice low and dangerous. "You know the rules. No biting unless I command it so."
Wooyoung's grin never falters, even as he feels a pang of fear at your words. He knows he's in trouble, but he can't help himself. He loves pushing your buttons and seeing how far he can go before you lose your cool. "Rules are meant to be broken?”, he quizzically challenges.
You found amusement in the situation just as he did, and you could be mischievous too, just as he was. "Since you love biting so much-let's see how you handle this!” Your hand flies out from hiding, shoving the half-eaten apple into Wooyoung's mouth. You roughly grab onto his hair as he gags around the apple.
Wooyoung chokes and sputters, his eyes watering as he tries to swallow and clench onto the apple. The strength of your hand in his hair is unmoved, and your eyes glint with satisfaction as he struggles. "Mmmph! Mmmph!"
"Oh, you can't talk with your mouth full, huh?" You taunt, your grip tightening in his hair. "Well, that's okay. You'll have plenty of time to apologize later. For now, just focus on swallowing.", you wickedly whisper in a soothing tone.
Wooyoung finds himself bent over the coffee table, his pants around his ankles, and his bottom already a fiery red from your relentless spanking. His body tenses as he feels your hand slip between his legs, gently fondling his swollen, aching manhood.
"Look at this," you murmur, your breath warm against his ear. "You're so hard and throbbing, just from being spanked and gagged on an apple. You are a naughty boy, aren't you?" You give his balls a gentle squeeze, making him whimper and squirm.
"Mmm-hmm," Wooyoung moans. His body tenses as he feels your fingers wrap around him, giving him a slow, firm stroke.
At the end of that, he was as red as a pig cooked to roast over an open fire.
…
Day 6
The gentle sensation of a hand slowly moving up and down Wooyoung’s manhood in his rested state. He blinks his eyes open, groaning softly as he feels the familiar, teasing touch. He finds you curled up behind him, your arm draped over his waist and your hand idly stroking him to life.
"Mmh," He mumbles sleepily, spreading his legs slightly to give your hand better access. He loves it rough, and the slow, lazy kind of intimacy where you take your time to explore each other's bodies was a different matter that too felt the same. Wooyoung arches his back slightly, pushing his ass against your center. "One more day.”
You reach around with your other hand, gently spreading his cheeks apart. Your middle finger dips inside, expanding his tight hole. "Mmm, you're so relaxed in the morning," You whisper, your breath warm against his ear. "I think I'll take advantage of that." You purr, your voice low and sultry. "Did you sleep well after yesterday's punishment?"
Wooyoung lets out a soft laugh, his body relaxing further into your touch. "My jaw is going to be extra defined now, but I slept like a baby," He murmurs, his voice husky with sleep. "And I know with every day, you'll probably make it extra memorable."
You smile to yourself, content from the knowledge that you still have him wrapped around your finger. You continue to stroke him and prod his hole until he's whining, soft, and his morning wood dripping release onto the sheets. "Open your eyes, baby," you whisper, your breath warm against his ear.
He opens his eyes slowly, watching your hand move up and down his length. He loves watching himself get touched by you. His hips pick up the rhythm, silently fucking your tight fist. You spread his legs wider, your finger going back to teasing his hole, making him moan softly.
"Look at me while I touch you," you command in a whisper. "I want to see your face when you come for me." His eyes lock with yours, the intense eye contact making his heart race. He bites his lower lip, his breathing becoming shallow as you pick up the pace. Your other hand continues to tease his hole, the dual stimulation driving him wild. "Fuck~you're so good at this, my queen.”
Your lips curl into a satisfied smirk as you feel Wooyoung's cock throb in your hand, his praise making your ego swell. "Flatterer," you murmur teasingly, squeezing his shaft just a bit tighter. You lean in close, your lips brushing his ear as you whisper, "I'm going to make you scream my name one last time before we leave this house, baby. And then, you're going to sit in the car, at work, at home, and think about how much you love being mine for the entire drive."
Truth hurts…it was going to be the both of you. Every mile reached was a distance that travelled back to reality.
With a final, firm stroke, you take Wooyoung’s mouth by pressing your lips together as he comes undone. His body jerks as thick ropes of cum shoot from his cock, painting the sheets beneath you. You milk him through his orgasm, your hand working him until he's completely spent and panting. "Good boy."
You gently pulls your hand free, wiping the excess cum from his softening member with your thumb before bringing it to your lips. You suck your thumb clean, your eyes never leaving Wooyoung’s face as he lies there, still recovering from his intense orgasm.
"Best vacation ever..."
…
The first week back at the office has to be the worst ever.
It was expected to suck, but the unfamiliar distraught with your work was not.
It wasn’t the workload, of course, but just imagine…living the life of your literal dreams, just for it to be shot to death-execution style- by the reality of life.
Wooyoung throws himself into his work in the coming weeks-trying to distract himself from the version of you he only got to see for a week. He sits in his office, stacks of papers surrounding him with his eyes bloodshot from hours of staring at spreadsheets.
He hadn’t seen you much lately. Not the version of you that held his hand on the beach. That woman disappeared the second your heels hit the marble floor.
Suddenly, his email pings with a new message.
Subject Line: My Office. Now.
No greeting. No fluff. Just that.
He freezes, his fingers hovering over the keyboard. He feels your non-vocal tone all too well- it's the one you use when you're not to be objected to or questioned. He saves his work and rushes to your office, closing the door softly behind him.
He knocked twice with the tip of his knuckle, sharp, deliberate.
“Come in.”
"You wanted to see me?" It’s a question that comes off unsteady in surprise. How unusual. But it’s not as if you didn’t want to see each other- god, you so desperately did, but then you saw through each other. It was that very feeling that made you want to shatter like glass.
You look up from your desk, your expression mockingly serious. He notices the lack of charm you used to have in your eyes from your trip, making you look stern and unapproachable. “Yes,” you said simply. “So, answer this truthfully—did you do your reports on time this week?”
That tone. Sharp, precise, detached.
Wooyoung gulps nervously, straightening his posture as he realizes the gravity of your question. He knows how meticulous you are about deadlines. "Almost all of them," he admits cautiously, his fingers twiddling with his tie. "The last one got delayed because of an unexpected client issue."
You took it for bullshit, but staring at him for too long with your “mad” expression could not be long lasting.
As for the other reason, you didn’t want him to feel the blame for your latest and greatest inconvenience.
“Well... besides that,” you said, and slapped your palm against the desk. The sound echoed. A few papers slid off the edge like they knew to get out of your way. “We’ve got greater trouble.”
Wooyoung’s brows shot up as the only thing that shifted in his unmoving position.
“It's like the asshole purposely waited until we got comfortable to fuck it all up!" Your eyes flutter close with a long huff that pushes your jaw forward.
Wooyoung steps closer, his brain catching up to the fact that you just turned irritated to….furious.
Wooyoung butted his bottom lip as he deciphers the right path to tread carefully. “What do you mean, trouble?” Everything is good as how we left it, Ms.Hart.”
After the time that was had, the title had some getting used to. Pretty, Mistress, Queen -they were all so much better. You calm yourself and debrief, "You don't understand..this client he's notorious for seeing fight stakes and impossible deadlines. But it could make us look back if we turn him away."
"Then we'll push through," he replies firmly, leaning down to pile together the papers form of of your desk. "You're the most organized person I know. If anyone can pull off a miracle, it's you.” Once each sheet is clear from the marble tile floors, they’re shifted neatly against your tabletop. “But, if this motherfucker tries to push us around..."
Just when he buttered you up, you began to feel toasty again by his last comment. “We need to be smart about this.”, you huff. You scoot into your desk until your boobs bounce against the edge, knuckles turning white as you try and gather your thoughts. Wooyoung looks down at you, noticing how quiet and still you’ve become. It's unnerving, as you’re usually so much more confident and assertive.
"Okay…we’ll get it done." Wooyoung crosses his arms, his mind racing. He knows you're not one to be rattled easily, so this must be bad. He braces himself for the impossible task ahead. "You want to assign a whole team to this?"
You try and suck in your eyes and lips into your face as you the sincerity in his voice and expression sings its song. "This is different, Woo. This isn't some meeting or presentation we can wing out. This will take real time and preparation."
Wooyoung's expression turns concerned as you voice your fears and call him by such a name in your professional setting. "I'll make the time," he says determinedly. "I'll work late every night if I have to. You know I won't let you down, not when it comes to the company." He stretches a hand close with the palm facing down, his voice lowering. "And not when it comes to you."
You unconsciously lick your lips as you open your eyes to glance at his well-groomed fingernails as a lesser intense focus than his eye. His protective nature made your insides flutter all the more in your time of need. You push the feeling away momentarily- this is not the time to get all gooey over your second-in-command. "He wants a full proposal on his desk tomorrow morning." You rub your temples tiredly.
"Tomorrow?! Fuck, that's tight," Wooyoung curses under his breaths he pulls off the desk- you watch his hand drape off the edge. He starts pacing the room with a hand on his waist, and his mind begins working in overdrive. "Alright, here's what we'll do. I'll gather the team and brief them on the situation. We'll split the work- you take the financial projections and risk assessments," he points to you. "I'll handle the marketing strategy and client portfolio."
He sees your tired eyes and unconsciously adds, "You haven't eaten all day, have you?"
You shake your head, too exhausted to even think about food. "I don't even have the time. Doesn’t matter." You mumble, already grabbing your laptop and starting to type out the financial projections. Wooyoung watches you for a moment before gently taking the laptop from your hands.
"You're no good to anyone if you faint from hunger," He scolds gently, setting the laptop aside. "I'll order some food, and you," He points to the couch in the corner of your office, "Sit there, and don't even think about working until the food gets here."
He sits you down on the couch in your office, ‘making’ you take a break. He starts massaging your shoulders, feeling the knots and tension in your muscles. "Relax for a minute, your brain needs energy and blood flow to think clearly," he murmurs soothingly.
When the food arrives, he annoyingly persists in feeding you personally, making sure you eat every bite.
“Don’t think you’re getting off the hook for those later reports.”, you grumble, savoring the last bite off the spoon served to you.
Wooyoung brushes a thumb next to your mouth to clean the mess, just to annoyingly swipe it on the top of your nose. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
As you fix your face in the ladies' room, Wooyoung gathers the rest of the team in a meeting and begins briefing them on the situation.
You work tirelessly throughout the night, the food and rest giving you the energy to focus.
The hours blurred.
Coffee cups multiplied in a stack like rabbits.
Your office dimmed into a flickering cocoon of screen light and scribbled notes, the only sound the low hum of jazz through your speakers and the occasional, muttered curse from Wooyoung.
“You misspelled ‘competitive.’ Twice.”, you point out as he presents you a final draft.
“It’s 12:47 a.m.,” he groaned, rubbing his eyes. “Be grateful I still know how to spell my name.”
You let yourself smile for half a second. Then back to work.
It was timing that was bussing your ass, every joyous moment was too short of a dream, and the most shittiest parts were driving you to insanity.
Your vacation was joyous.
Loosing closeness with Wooyoung feels shitty.
The client that awaits you could make feel shittier. It makes you wonder if it’s a sign of awaiting relief or insufferable pain.
Somewhere around 4:00 a.m., your shoulders slumped. Your eyes glazed over.
Wooyoung noticed.
He didn’t say anything—just rolled his chair over and placed a hand lightly on the back of your neck. His thumb drew a slow circle at the base of your hairline.
You didn’t lean into it. But you didn’t pull away either.
The moment passed.
By dawn, the two of you had something polished. Sharp. Uncompromising.
You both sat back at the same time and exhaled. “This might actually work,” Wooyoung said, eyes bleary.“It has to,” you replied. Then, after a pause, almost a whisper: “Thanks for not letting me drown.”
Wooyoung’s lips twitched into a tired grin. “Says the woman who nearly drowned me after I said ‘mom bod.’”
You chuckled. Just once.
Then it was gone, replaced by the cool, clipped tone that meant business was back.
Although his smile never left, he was proud, and he felt lighter to lift your burdens.
“Alright. Let’s make sure Broker knows who he’s dealing with.”
…
LITERALLY FIVE HOURS LATER:
The office was already humming when you arrived, the usual 9 a.m. rhythm rolling in with too much energy for how little sleep you'd gotten.
You held your travel mug with both hands like it was holy scripture. Across the room, Wooyoung walked in three minutes behind you, still adjusting the cuffs of his shirt—his hair a little flatter than usual, his tie just slightly off-center.
“We alive?” he muttered under his breath as he passed you at the reception desk.
You didn’t look up, just sipped your tea.
“Barely.”
Mr. Yunho Jeong appeared at your side, a clipboard already in hand. His posture was straight, his shirt pressed, and—most importantly—his eyes weren’t rimmed with insomnia.
“Morning, Mrs. Hart. Mr. Jung,” he said evenly. The office is running on schedule. I’ve briefed the teams and prepped the meeting room.”
Wooyoung blinked at him like he was seeing the second coming. “God bless your soul.”
“I’ll keep things smooth while you two handle the big man,” Yunho added. “Don’t worry—I’ve got it.”
You gave him a nod. Not your usual smile. Just enough to say: Thank you. We needed this.
The two of you turn on foot in sync to the nearest elevator, a major awakening of Deja vu, given you were here five hours ago.
Wooyoung walks in front to push the button for you, but you secretly feel it could be a childish game.
Just to level the playing field, you spark a conversation with a serious thought in mind.
“What if we put Yunho in temporary charge while we kink this one out?"
Wooyoung considers the suggestion, his mind already racing with the implications. "It could work," he muses aloud. "Mr.Jeong is reliable and knows the ins and outs of the business. Plus, it would give us the freedom to focus on this new development without worrying about everything else falling apart."
You mused with a hm tiptoe towards Wooyoung close enough that your shoulder grazes his just a tad so that he can shift his focus on your expression. "You wanna know something? Yunho was going to be in your place if things hadn't gone so perfectly."
Wooyoung's eyes widen slightly as he looks at you, a mix of jealousy and seriousness on his face. "Well, on second thought then, let's try Mr.Park."
You tap on his chest with a grin, turning as the elevator approaches the floor level.
"That little nervous thing? I love him to death, but boy, would he crumble under that man."
The thought has you chuckling under your breath in a less obvious manner as you step out onto the floor. Wooyoung, straight-faced and hung up on a different matter, whispers, "So you're saying I'm more capable than Mr.Park but less than Mr.Jeong?" He walks beside you with no glances ahead, eager to hear your response.
You glance back at him over your shoulder, your eyes gleaming mischievously.
"You look...thrilled." Wooyoung's expression is not a similar depiction. You approach your office door, reaching inside your purse to find your specialized key.
"I'm just focused, that's all. We have a lot to discuss and plan for." As you open the door, Wooyoung closes it behind you. He moves across from you to settle at the desk, his voice lowering. "This Broker situation... I have a feeling it's going to be more complicated than we initially thought."
Your eyebrows cock in confusion from his sudden dismissal of envy. "I mean..yeah?”You mockingly scoff in disbelief and start pulling out last night's paperwork. "On that note, let's get down to actual business."
It was a washing hour before the big meeting began, and the only purpose of the discussion was strategy. A.k.a finding a way to shake Broker off your tails.
"Right,” Wooyoung mutters, feeling slightly thrown off. “First things first, we need to gather all the information we have on Broker. Financials, client lists, any potential weaknesses or leverage points."
You nod and write down the ideas on your notepad with a Pom Pom pink pen, until you pause as an idea springs into your mind. "You know what would make this so easy?"
Wooyoung's eyes set and stone on you always widens at you curiously, "What's that?" To him, your mind is always full of innovative solutions, and he's eager to hear what you’re thinking.
"This guy…” You begin, “is a manipulator of monopoly, so why don't we use that to our advantage?" You place the pen down gently, mirroring Wooyoung’s smirk as you continue, "and you know what rich people like him love? Talking! About themselves!"
Wooyoung's expression turns intrigued as you finish outlining the basis of your new plan. "So, you're suggesting we... flatter him? Stroke his ego?" He chuckles, "It's not the most dignified approach, but it just might work."
You lean forward with hands resting over Wooyoung’s in a tight bundle. "I’m telling you…he can write monologues.”
Wooyoung chuckles softly and frees both hands to gently take hold of yours.
"Alright, Mrs. Lady, so we'll play to his ego, get him talking, and try to glean as much information as we can. But…we'll need a pretense for getting close to him in the first place." He pauses, thinking. "Business would be the obvious disguise, but we're already being forced to associate with him...what do you think?"
“A social event!” you say off the top. “Somewhere, he's caught off guard. Not a pitch-just ego stroking.”
Wooyoung snaps one set of his fingers, “The Mirror Strategy,” had says with a wink. “Hold one up, let him admire himself... while we take notes.”
“We’re going to out-mirror the monopoly man,” you grinned. “Alright, Boss. I’m in.”
Simple. Short. Effective.
The Better Business duo was back in sync. Furthermore, Wooyoung and Y/n were back in sync, and their hearts palpated with the same loving rhythm as they realized it in that very moment.
"Bitch boss and her mighty trusty mini bitch sidekick!", Wooyoung excitedly proposes.
Your eyes widen as you reach over the table to cover his mouth, uncontrollably giggling at his excitement. You move your hand and wink as you collect your papers and head toward the meeting room.
"Alright, partner. Let's go catch ourselves a monopoly man. But first..." He pauses, standing up and straightening his tie. "Coffee. Lots and lots of coffee."
“Oh, absolutely, and tea?" you rhetorically ask.
"Naturally. Wouldn't dream of depriving you of your beloved pomegranate and raspberry." You gleam at his keenness for your taste and fixations. He was making an effort to patch things up and be your partner in every sense of the word.
Wooyoung winks at you before heading out to fetch your caffeine and herbal fixes. As he steps out, you can't help but feel a renewed sense of energy and purpose.
"Be prepared, Broker, you'll last name will match your economic status any day now..."
…
"Showtime," Wooyoung murmurs to you before heading inside where Broker awaits, giving you a subtle yet communicative nod.
"Let's make it happen, pronto.”,
…
In the main boardroom, Mr. Broker sits across from you and Wooyoung, his piercing gaze flicking between the pair of you. If you could share an opinion without being penalized, you would say this room is too fucking big for the three of you.
Broker leans back in his unnecessary seat across the long 20-seated table chair from your head seat and Wooyoung adjacent to you. Like a villain, in his own story, of course, his hands ate steepled beneath his chin. "I must admit, I was surprised to receive your invitation so soon. I had heard of a week's vacation for all your staff."
You smiled thinly. “We’re nothing if not efficient.”
Broker's eyes linger on you for a moment, a slight smirk playing on his lips. "Your enthusiasm is commendable, dear. Though I must say, Mrs. Hart, your firm has an... interesting reputation," he says, his voice dripping with condescension.
You lie in the same plain smile, squeezing your intertwined hands into a tightness only you know of. "What can I say? I’m just a woman- living in a woman's world."
Broker chuckles, his gaze sharpening.
"Indeed. But tell me, Mrs. Hart, what brings you and... Mr. Lee, was it?" He leans forward, resting his elbows on the desk, giving you what plays on to be his full attention.
A beat.
Wooyoung didn’t flinch. “Mr. Jung,” he corrected smoothly. “Mark Lee was the former assistant. I’ve since stepped into a more executive role.”
“Of course,” Broker replied, not bothering to apologize.
Another beat.
“Mr Jung?” You call out, and your eyes and his remain on the man across the room in his world as you acknowledge each other. “Would you like to introduce what we wanted to propose to Mr.Broker?"
Wooyoung picks up the cue, his expression serious yet attaining a ‘friendly’. "Mr. Broker…we were hoping to discuss a potential collaboration. Your company's recent expansion into tech has caught our eye, and we believe there could be some mutually beneficial opportunities."
Broker's eyes gleam with interest, but he keeps his expression neutral. "Oh?
And what sort of opportunities might those be, Mr. Jung?" He emphasizes his name, a subtle jab at the earlier mishap. "I must warn you, I'm quite selective with my partnerships."
A strategic expansion on both sides.”He slides a slim portfolio forward across the table with practiced ease, pausing as it lands neatly in front of Broker.
“Your entry into tech signals forward-thinking. Our apprenticeship initiative can frame that momentum with social equity—training the next generation, while preserving public trust.”
He glances your way briefly, just long enough to confirm that he’s pacing the conversation with you in mind. You give a faint nod of approval. You’ve rehearsed this tempo before.
Broker drums his fingers against the table, the faint tapping echoing in the quiet boardroom. His mouth quirks into a small smirk as he swivels slightly in his chair to face you instead.
“Quite the mouthpiece you’ve hired, Mrs. Hart.” He folds one ankle over the other casually, lounging like he owns the air in the room. “I see why you let him speak.”
You tilt your head, resting one arm on the chair’s backrest and tapping your pen on the folder in front of you.
“We don’t just speak. We measure.” You look him straight in the eye, unwavering.
Broker's smirk tightens, his interest piqued. He leans forward again, fingertips pressed together. “Well then. You measure… I’ll scale. Let’s get to it.”
You straighten your posture, planting your stiletto heels firmly beneath the table. Your fingers glide across the printed agenda as you speak.
“If you're serious, we propose a private showcase. Small. Controlled. Influential. It allows our proposal to be viewed and dissected by the right people.”
Broker reaches forward to finally open the portfolio Wooyoung pushed over. He flips through the first few pages slowly, his thumb grazing each corner. Then, he looks up, the slightest glint in his eye.
“You’ve done your homework, Mrs. Hart.”He turns to Wooyoung. “And the buy-in?”
Wooyoung clasps his hands together again, sitting just forward enough to engage, but never inching into desperation. “Tri-split model. Tech expertise from your firm. Implementation and logistics from us. You get financial return and front-page exposure. Our team runs the event. You get to play host.”
Broker closes the folder slowly with a quiet thud. He folds his arms, leaning back again. His gaze settles on you, sharp. “What do I get besides profit?”
You hold your ground, then lean in just slightly, just enough to break a piece of the extension of space between you.
“Legacy,” you say plainly. “And what businessmen like you love most: influence. We build the story. You become its benefactor.”
A long silence settles.
Broker rises from his chair, brushing invisible lint from his lapel. “Then let’s see if you’re worth the invitation.”
He rounds the corner of the table slowly, offering you his hand. You stand, heels clicking softly against the marble as you meet him. Your handshake is precise—cool, firm, professional.
He then turns to Wooyoung, stepping closer than necessary. “Mr. Jung.” He extends a hand—this time with an exaggerated pause. He sizes up Wooyoung’s grip as their hands meet, his brow arching almost imperceptibly. “I hope your presentation is as polished as your pitch.” He lets the comment hang, then gives a curt nod and strides toward the exit.
The door closes.
Silence.
Wooyoung exhales, loosening his tie as he slumps slightly in his seat.
“Was that a compliment or a veiled threat?”
You sit back down without looking at him, flipping one of the documents back open.
“With men like that? There’s no difference.”
Wooyoung meets your gaze, his expression thoughtful. "I think we've planted a seed, but you're right, we need to nurture it carefully." He leans back in his chair, crossing his arms. "The presentation will make or break this deal."
"I'm so tense to even focus on that right now, but we have a week till then. So we can't afford to slack all too much."
Wooyoung's eyes soften with understanding. He reaches out and gently rubs your shoulders. "Hey, we've come this far. Trust in our preparation and each other." His voice is warm and reassuring. "Why don't we take a short break, clear our heads?
"What do you suggest we do right now?"
Wooyoung grins mischievously. "How about we grab some lunch? My treat. We can decompress, then dive back into work with fresh minds." He stands up and offers his hand to you.
"Fine, but no funny business."
He chuckles, pulling you up on your feet. "Scout's honor." He mimes the scout's honor gesture, which makes you roll your eyes but smile nonetheless. "And maybe," he continues in a lower voice as they exit the office, “ just a little bit of funny business after we clock out?"
You smooth out your bubblegum pink plaid blazer, giving Wooyoung a thoughtful glare, although you were already firm in your answer. "Let's just see how you're behaving then."
He winks at you in a flirty trick, placing a hand on the small of your back as they walk out of the building. "Deal. But just so you know, I'm planning to be on my best behavior... until I'm not." He leans in close, his breath warm against your ear.
….
12:36 PM
Your heels click with clarity against the polished marble as you exit your office. It’s just before lunch- too late for a meeting, and the floor too quiet for anyone to expect your sudden appearance.
That only meant one of two things: someone was getting fired… or something was about to change.
You make your way toward Yunho’s cubicle. His head is buried in a spreadsheet, brows furrowed, glasses resting at the bridge of his nose.
You lean over his desk, arms crossing the ledge like a poised predator. “Yunho.”
His fingers freeze above the keyboard.
Slowly, he looks cautious, yet curious. You smile-faint, unreadable.
Across the office, Wooyoung lifts his head from behind his monitor, catching the interaction with sharp eyes. He watches as Yunho straightens in his chair, clearly surprised by whatever you’re saying. A nod, then a second one. Then Yunho stands to follow you.
You return, Yunho at your side. There’s a little swing in your walk, your grin simmering with satisfaction.
“Back to my office, boys. We’ve got plans to discuss.”
Wooyoung rises smoothly from his desk and meets you both at the door, giving Yunho a brief but respectful nod.
Inside, you take your seat behind the desk with effortless command. The two men settle across from you—Wooyoung lounges back casually, Yunho sitting upright with his hands in his lap.
“Mr.Jeong,” Wooyoung starts, his tone direct but friendly, “we’ve got a situation that needs our full attention. We want you to take the lead at the office while we handle things externally. Temporarily.”
Before Yunho can speak, you interject—not with urgency, but with clarity.
“We’re not handing you more work for less reward. Quite the opposite.” Your gaze slides to Wooyoung, silently cueing him to follow your lead.
“We both agreed unanimously that you’re the right fit. Reliable. Level-headed. You know the place like the back of your hand.”
Wooyoung leans forward slightly, hands firm as one on the tabletop.
“We’ll have your usual tasks redistributed. This is a temporary promotion—with all the support that comes with it.” You rest your elbows on the desk and fold your hands together, evaluating any discomfort that will allow you to provide reassurance. “What do you think?”
Yunho looks between the two of you, processing the gravity of the offer. “I appreciate the trust. Really.” His jaw tenses slightly, then relaxes. “I’ll do my best to keep things running while you handle the Broker situation.”
You exhale in relief, a genuine smile surfacing. You rise from your seat and extend your hand over the desk.
“Thank you, Yunho. If you’ve got our backs, just know we’ve got yours.”
He stands and shakes your hand firmly.
Wooyoung, already halfway out of his chair, beats him to the second handshake. “We’ll walk you through the logistics today. You’ll have everything you need.”
Wooyoung turns to you with a glance that almost feels too professional. “Shall we begin outlining the next steps?” You study him briefly. Something about his tone, his posture—it’s sharp, formal, and desperately involved. “Of course.”
You flick your attention back to Yunho.“Take that file with you, and review anything you need. If questions come up, we’re here.”
Yunho nods once, grasping the folder you hold out. “I’ll be sure to keep in touch. Thank you.” He exits soon after with a determined stride.
The moment the door clicks shut, the air shifts.
Wooyoung turns to you, eyes narrowed with quiet focus. “You look... thrilled.”
You raise an eyebrow, lips quirking faintly.
“You sound unusually stiff.”
He huffs a soft laugh. “Just focused. We’ve got a chess game ahead of us.”
You lean back into your chair, gaze narrowing as you reach for your pen. “Then let’s draw the board.”
You don’t answer right away as he asks you questions.
You observe him instead.
The way his fingers fidget with the cuff of his sleeve.
The fact that his cologne’s faded—it smells more like office air than beach skin.
Your hand finds the pen resting atop your notepad.
…
As you settle back into work from a momentary break on the presentation, you find yourself in distrait state. Your swinging heel accidentally catches Wooyoung’s clothed shin from under the desk. He flinches with a soft yelp.
“Ow—” His voice is sharp but hushed. You look up instantly, guilt flickering across your face. “Sorry,” you whisper.
He shoots you a glare, but it melts in seconds into something more smug.
Without breaking eye contact, Wooyoung unfastens his black vest and tosses it onto the couch behind him, then slowly rolls up the sleeves of his silk button-up shirt. The motion is casual, almost indifferent.
Except it's not. His forearms flex just enough to make sure you notice.
And, unfortunately, you do. Your gaze lingers too long—first on the roll of his sleeves, then up his arms, then back to his smirk.
He notices. Of course, he notices.
Wordlessly, he reaches out and grabs your ankle, lifting your foot onto his lap with practiced ease. His fingers begin circling your heel, pressing into knots with maddening precision, all while his other hand scrolls through the pitch deck on his laptop.
The contact is clinical. Calm. But your pulse is anything but.
You swallow hard. You’re hyperaware of how exposed your ankle is beneath your slacks, how gently he’s kneading your skin, and how no one else is around.
A glance at the clock. 4:45 p.m. Fifteen minutes until closing.
Wooyoung’s hand inches upward—calf, then higher—applying slow pressure. His knuckles brush under the hem of your trousers.
It’s been weeks since the vacation. Since things… simmered down. Since you last touched. The room feels heavy with everything unsaid.
You clear your throat—loudly—startling him just as the clock hits five. You both freeze, your bodies wound like springs ready to snap.
And then you do.
Chairs screech back. Papers scatter. You both scramble to the elevator with barely a glance exchanged, your shoulders knocking as you speed-walk past confused coworkers. Inside, the elevator doors slide closed, trapping the silence and the heat.
Wooyoung wastes no time.
He pins you lightly against the cushioned wall, his lips crushing into yours like he’s been waiting to breathe. You melt into it, gripping his shoulders as the elevator rises. Then—
Ding.
The doors open on an empty floor.
You both pull apart and pant, freezing still like sculptors of the ‘Night at the Museum’.
“We need to get out of here,” he mutters.
You nod. “Now.” You bolt for the garage, legs moving faster than your thoughts. The air is thick with everything you can’t say aloud. As you reach your cars, you throw a glance over your shoulder. “My place or yours?”
He doesn’t miss a beat. “Yours is further.”
You pull out the passenger's seat door and commend his answer. “Yours, then.”
The cars roar to life—your engines growling in sync. The drive is fast, silent, electric. At red lights, you pretend not to thirst for him. But you do.
You’re already unbuckling before he’s even parked. The second the door clicks open, you’re out, heels clacking on pavement as you head toward his building.
He catches up, wordlessly unlocking the door and pulling you inside. It slams behind you, echoing like a thunderstorm.
Like something inevitable.
The interior of his place mimicked the vibe of yours, echoing his personality, his persona, and his favorite color, black.
"You were so fucking hot today owning up to that bastard you know that?" Wooyoung growls approvingly, backing you up against the door as he kicks it shut. Stumbling in, his eyes glow like a black cat’s in the depths of night. You used them as a guide, and he too memorized the layout of the space in his way.
"Was I?" he asks, his hands roaming your body possessively. "And what else was I doing that you liked?"
You tut your teeth and gaze at his lips seductively. "What? Now that we're at your house, you're the one pressing people and asking questions?"
Wooyoung's eyes darken at the challenge in your voice. He steps closer, his hands reaching out to grab your waist and sweep you off your feet. You let out a small yelp of surprise as he carries you over to the bedroom and drops you off into the plush fabric.
His charge of position rests between your legs as you sit up and adjust. It was a dangerous play that needed you to establish logical rules. "Well…I wouldn't mind a change in our roles, as long as you don't get too lost in your character kitty."
Wooyoung smirks and shifts on his knees at your playful warning. "I think we both know I'm very good at keeping my roles in line."
“Do we?”
He leans in close, his breath hot against your ear as he whispers, "As of right now, I'm in charge of making you feel very, very good." Woo's hands slide up your thighs, pushing your skirt up as he goes. “And that is a role…I’ve always played.”
His fingers play keys on the nerves of your inner thighs. And comically so, every press nearer to your crotch emitted a louder moan. "You're so fucking sexy," he growls, before running over his hand over your mound, copping off a feel you through the seams.
Your back arches, fingers gripping Wooyoung's hair tightly as he continues to tease your heat. His hands grip your thighs firmly, keeping you in place as he explores every trigger of yours with a press or rub.
Your eyes gloss as you shatter around his fingers, your breath coming in short gasps as you ride out the first waves of pleasure. "Mmm, a fast learner," you purr, signaling him to climb up your body and claim your mouth.
You moan into his mouth while he savors you in this new angle. Wooyoung pushes in to be more of a risk-taker, forcing his hand to feel the raw thing. “I only learn from the best.”
Just when you think you can't take anymore, Wooyoung adds two fingers inside you, curling them to hit that sweet spot deep within you. He pinches on your clit with renewed vigor, his free hand reaching up to pinch and twist your nipples through your under shirt.
"So in all that time…nghhh… you were listening, but you just decided…fuck…you wanted to be a brat out of your own free will?” Wooyoung chuckles darkly, the vibrations against your body sending you over the edge.
“I never wanted you to be easy with me, Mistress.” He extracts his hand from your underpants. “So how will you deal with me now?”
In a forward answer, you wrap your legs around him, pulling him fast against you. "Inside me,” you pant, "Now, Woo."
Wooyoung grins mischievously, reaching down to grab your ankles on both sides of him on the bedding. He strips you and himself, unbuckling his pants and immediately onto you. He lines up at your entrance and slowly pushes in, his eyes locked onto you's. "Like this?" he asks teasingly, burying himself to the hilt.
You let out a low moan, your body stretching to accommodate him. "More," you demand even in your position- your heels digging into Woo's back with curled toes. He obliges, pulling back before snapping his hips forward again.
Like clockwork, your bodies fall into a rhythm, each thrust heightening new desires for each other.
Your walls squeeze around Woo's cock with every stroke, trying to pull him deeper inside you as if you wanted to absorb him whole.
Your hands claw at his back, leaving red marks as you hold on for dear life. "Fuck me, Woo!" you beg, your voice hoarse from screaming his name. "Fuck me like you own me!"
Wooyoung shudders as his pace quickens, his breathing growing ragged as he pounds into you. "You are mine," he growls, his voice low and possessive. "Every inch of you belongs to me."
He leans down, his teeth sinking into the soft flesh where your neck meets your shoulder.
You both are subdued in both pain and pleasure, your body trembling as Wooyoung bears the strength to uphold himself and marks you as his. You wrap your you arms around his neck, holding him close as he continues to fuck your with reckless abandon. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, accompanied by their desperate gasps and moans.
Your legs start to shake- your body on the verge of another intense orgasm.
Wooyoung easily senses your impending climax and changes his angle, hitting a spot inside you that makes you see stars.
You scream his name- voice echoing off the walls as she comes hard around his cock.
Suddenly, Wooyoung pulls out and flips you onto your hands and knees. He grabs your hips and pulls them back with a surprising super strength, spreading them wide before slamming back inside you. The new angle allows him to hit your g-spot on the dot with every thrust, sending you into a spiral of ecstasy.
"Look at that ass bounce." he smacks it deliberately, making you whine. "My ass. Not Mark’s, or Yunho's"
You smirk for a bit before your back to making out an “O” with your mouth.
There was a doubt in your mind that he didn’t overlook the situation.
Wooyoung sets a brutal pace, his hips slamming against your ass with each powerful thrust. The wet sound of your coupling fills the room, punctuated by the sharp smacks of Wooyoung’s hand on your rear. "Say it," he demands, his voice rough with lust.
"Your ass," you gasps out between moans, your voice trembling. "It's your ass, Woo. Only yours." You pushed back against him, desperate for more of his punishment and his cock. Now you could finally understood his thrill. "Fuck me, Woo. Fuck me hard and make it yours."
Wooyoung’s grip on your hips tightens as he speeds up his pace, his breathing heavy and erratic. "That's right, mistress," he growls. "This is my hole. My property." He spanks you again, the sound echoing through the room as you wail your approval.
Your eyes roll back in your head as Woo’s cock hits that perfect spot inside you again and again. You feel like you’re going to pass out from the overwhelming pleasure.
Suddenly, Wooyoung stills, his hips freezing as he buries himself deep inside you.
You shudder as your back arches inward and outward. Wooyoung lets out a strangled groan, his body trembling as your wet mound envelopes his sensitive tip. With a loud grunt, he explodes inside you again, filling your pussy with his hot seed as he pulses against your hole.
You look back and show off a wicked grin "Did you cum twice?"
Wooyoung’s face contorts in a mixture of pain and pleasure as he stares at the sight before him. "Fuck, yes," he hisses, his eyes glued to your pussy lips, still glistening with his cum. He reaches down to spread them apart, revealing the mess he made inside you.
You wiggle your backside enticingly, smearing Wooyoung's release onto your inner thighs. "And what are you going to do about it, hmm?" You cast him another sultry look over your shoulder. "Going to clean it up, my kitten?"
Wooyoung's eyes dilate at your words, his body stirring back to life despite just finding release. He didn’t think it was possible, but he can surpass the bounds he was looking over the edge of. He leans down, his tongue snaking out to lap at his release from your inner thigh.
You moan softly, eyes fluttering shut as Wooyoung’s tongue cleans you up. You feels him nuzzle your folds, breathing in your scent before he slowly licks up your slit. "Mmm, look at you, licking up your mess”, you moan.
Mouth muffled against your core, Wooyoung growls, "Shut up, and spread your legs wider." You eagerly comply, your legs trembling as he continues to feast.
Your hips buck against his face, desperate for more. You reach back to run your fingers through his hair, guiding his mouth to your sensitive clit. "Eat it, kitten," you command, voice dripping with authority. "Lick my fucking clit until l come again."
Wooyoung moans against your flesh, the vibrations sending jolts of pleasure through the core of your body. He obliges your command, lavishing your swollen bud with his tongue.
Your breath hitches as Wooyoung sucks your sensitive nub between his lips, his tongue flicking against it. Your body tenses, and your release builds quickly. "Yes, just like that," she pants, your fingers tightening in Woo's hair. "Oh God, I'm coming!"
Woo redoubles his efforts, his mouth working in tandem with his fingers as he stretches you with his digits.
Your body convulses, inner muscles clenching around his fingers as you shout from your release. Wooyoung keeps going, drawing out your peak until you collapse onto bed as if you were boneless.
Wooyoung finally pulls his face away, his mouth and chin glistening with your essence. His eyes are glassy with devotion—feral but soft—as he crawls up your body, pressing a kiss to your navel, your sternum, then finally your lips.
You meet him halfway, your tongue tasting the aftermath of your shared pleasure. Arms loop around his neck, you pull him close, his body heavy and warm against yours.
"You're so good to me," you murmur against his mouth, your voice still thick with pleasure. "My little angel."
“I’ll always be good to you,” he whispers, lips grazing your cheek. “Especially now… being apart like that? It was unbearable.”
Your fingers drift to the hollows of his cheeks—slightly sunken, evidence of too many sleepless nights and overworked days. You tap his thigh gently.
“Lie back.”
He obeys without question, letting you pull him into your chest. One arm wraps protectively around your waist. His breath steadies against your skin.
“I get you. I got you. I’m sorry.”
He doesn’t answer—only nuzzles deeper.
…
The Next Morning…
The scent of you still lingers on the sheets, and for a moment, Wooyoung doesn’t open his eyes. He just… listens. To the silence. To the space beside him. The weight of reality is settling in again.
You’re gone.
Business hours are ticking.
He exhales sharply, swinging his legs out of bed and rubbing the back of his neck. His body aches in the best way, but emotionally, he’s already shifting gears. The transition is always the hardest part.
You belonged to the world again. He just… worked in it.
At the Office…
Back at his desk, Wooyoung sifts through morning reports. He’s trying to focus, but his thoughts drift. To your hand on his chest last night. To your whispered apology. To the way his name tasted coming from your lips when no one else could hear it.
Ping.
His screen flashes—your office line.
Then—
A knock.
Mr. Broker is standing at his office door. Crisp suit. Blank expression, and the air seems denser from the weight of his mere presence.
"Mr. Jung," Broker says, tone neutral but clipped. "A word, please."
Wooyoung nods once, hiding his confusion behind a polite mask. He clicks into your call and mutters quickly, “Later,” before hanging up and saving his work.
The walk to the boardroom office is silent.
But Wooyoung feels it. Something’s off. Broker walks with a different rhythm today—slower, heavier. Almost like he’s dragging a secret behind him.
In the Boardroom…
The door closes with a soft click.
Wooyoung stands for a moment before taking his seat across from Broker, adjusting the cuffs of his sleeves like armor. He meets the older man’s gaze evenly.
Broker doesn’t waste time.
"I need to talk to you about something,” he says, leaning forward, hands steepled beneath his chin. “Something that involves both of our companies... and a mutual interest.”
Wooyoung’s jaw tightens.
Broker continues, voice slow and deliberate. “Specifically, your relationship… with Mrs. Hart.”
🐈⬛🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾
What the hell could Broker be talking about?
Find out on the next episode of:
WHIPS.CHAINS.PLEASURE.&.PAIN.
Episode 4
THANK YOU FOR READING TO THE END.
PLEASE DO NOT COPY MY ORIGINAL WORKS, reblogs are appreciated and accepted. Stealing and modifying my work or publishing out on other platforms is not.
I am a college student you guys, so give me grace PLEASE
I appreciate the non stop support through it all! My fanfics have grown in great numbers, and although not in the times I wanted right then when I posted it (which is unrealistic), but most times a new person will read one of my stories and be intrigued to read another which is so fucking dope!
So thank you
I’m back
and I love you guys
truly
I am enrolled for classes this summer however I only have two so a lot of reduced stress and they are online.
Let me know if you of course if you would like more communication from me whether it be replies to your repost, story ideas, recommendations, mood boarding, a silly meme- I don’t care but I would really would like for our connection to be stronger
🐈⬛~🎀 SUMMARY: The atmosphere between you and Wooyoung changes your dynamic for the worse since that heated Friday night- until things gets exceptionally better.
🐈⬛~🎀 TAGS/WARNINGS: Cursing/Name-Calling, MAJOR Dom-Sub Play, Use of Alcohol, Role Play, Dirty Talk, Slapping, Handjob, Brutal Use of a Whip, Rope Bonadge, Office Intimacy, Oral Sex, Shower Intimacy.
🐈⬛~🎀 WORD COUNT: 10.9K
🐈⬛~🎀 A/N: Just...super duper freaky. Proceed at your own risk of becoming a hornball.
🐈⬛🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾
A Mistress is a dominant woman who exercises authority and control over her submissive partner. She may engage in various activities such as bondage, discipline, dominance, submission, sadism, and masochism (BDSM) with her sub. The power exchange can be physical, mental, emotional, or a play in all.
Submission is not always about being doormats or losers. Instead, it's about empowerment. By ceding control to their Mistress, subs can let go of everyday stresses and worries, trusting her to guide them and make decisions for them. It's a deeply intimate and liberating experience.
Dominance is about taking charge, setting boundaries, and pushing submissives out of their comfort zones in safe, consensual ways to help them explore their deepest desires and fears. A good Mistress is caring and attentive and always puts her subs' well-being first, even as she challenges them.
Safe, Sane, and Consensual (SSC) is a key principle in the BDSM community. It means that all activities are agreed upon by all parties involved, with clear boundaries and safeguards to prevent harm.
Anything outside of these parameters is considered unsafe and unacceptable.
…
Ever since then, Wooyoung has been extra attentive, making sure your morning beverages are piping hot and steaming just the way you like them, your files are in order from A to Z without a paper sticking out in sight, and your schedule is always organized and precise in preparation for the weeks ahead.
In your world, you tackle most of the paperwork meant for the office workers in cubicles- and for your own for distraction.
There was too much on your mind this early morning, but you’ve set it aside for one of the greatest business endeavors that only comes every 10,000 lifetimes.
Your company, Better Business Company- hence the name- strives to make businesses better. The investments you distribute come from your own pockets and the companies you carry on your back. But today, you had a chance to strike it rich, because one of the most influential businessmen asked for your participation in the condition you formulated a plan.
Wooyoung, your supposed partner in this, knocks softly on your office door, carrying in a tray with your daily coffee and a Danish. ”I thought you might need an early pick-me-up,” he whispers bashfully, placing the tray carefully onto the edge of your desk.
He steps back and watches you from a safe distance. You immediately take your coffee in hand without acknowledging his presence, sipping heavily on your beverage as if it were a tall glass of cold water.
It was times like this where he just let things be as tried to gauge your mood. He walked like a deer in the wild these days, avoiding stepping on the smallest twig to prevent triggering the coyote's natural predatory instincts.
“Thank you.” You smile toward him briefly, and then you presume to delve into your paperwork-as if last Friday night never happened. As if the new ‘partnership’ you’ve dwelled in, never happened.
Wooyoung notices the brief smile and the attempt to focus back on work, but he can see the fatigue and stress etched on your face. He decides to try a different approach and sits down in the chair across from your desk- leaning back with a deep sigh and folding his arms comfortably. “For our meeting today…I think we should revise before we present.”
You don’t bother to spare him a glance. Instead, you keep stamping, signing, and flipping off papers. “I believe we’ve made those proper revisions days ago. I recall you saying things were pristine.”
His expression hardens slightly to prevent you from seeing the effect you had on him from your stubbornness, but his voice remains calm. “Mrs.Hart. If you wouldn’t mind…I can talk to you easier when your eyes are on me.” He waits until you finally glance up, your eyes meeting his. In contentment, a small grin grows on his face with a minor head tilt of excitement. “If we're going to pull off this deal today, we need to be on the same page.”
You purse your lips as you drop the pen. Your tired eyes flick around the man you’ve been thinking about since he left your apartment. “I thought that’s what we do. We’re the whole book remember? Front cover, and back.”
He unfolds his arms and leans forward as if he were trying to use his cavernous eyes to read the inside of your head. “Well, it doesn’t feel right at the moment. We're also supposed to work as a team, in and out of the boardroom, remember?”
The Coyote was no longer to be frightened. It heard the snapping twigs a dozen times, and it was hoping that the deer would acknowledge them. It was the only creature other than it in the deep in the ghostly woods.
“Look, I’ll just say it. Last Friday night was..” Wooyoung pauses. “Hectic… But, it was good, wasn’t it? We were good?” He asks cautiously, unseemingly bothered by the hairs that fall above his doe eyes.
You shake your head yes and sigh. You reach over your desk and grab the remote to shut your blinds, giving your unlabeled pair a sense of privacy. He watches as they fall slowly past the wall's pink shelves, hanging in the air the white marble floor.
Meanwhile, you were halfway out of your seat, his vision was cleared as you pulled the hair from his face. He turns to you, his mouth begins to agape, a ‘thank you’, and an ‘I can’t believe you’ has his tongue-tied.
You tuck in behind his ear, your eyes can only focus solely on the motion. Soon after you sit back down in your chair, flipping mindlessly back through the finished papers. “We’re gonna be good Wooyoung”, you whisper. “This is good, the meeting will be great.” You breathe out heavily and close your eyes for a moment of peace. “I’m not there yet, but I will be.”
Wooyoung rises from his seat and walks behind the desk, onto your side. He gently twirls your chair around and crouches down in front of you. Your eyes squeeze close, he was so intimate, so caring, and too kind.
“You’re allowed to not be okay all the time, Mrs.Hart. You’re allowed to lean on me.” He looks up at you, his expression serious.
“I don’t want you to do that all the time Wooyoung. You’ll need me to pick up the slack one day.” You open your eyes to your revelation and the next words you are meant to say. “We’re a damn team, and we can’t play solo right now because we’re fearful of our emotions.”
Wooyoung’s expression softens, and he places a hand on your knee. “You’re right, we need to have a plan in place. But for now, let’s just focus on getting through this. You’re my priority right now, and then I’ll face the facts.”
Your eyes soften with trapped tears. You allow yourself to be vulnerable, and then you face the facts.
Your hand trembles in hesitance, caressing his face for a few moments. He raises his hand slowly, and it covers yours in the perfect amount. His eyes carry the sun within them from the window, and before a tear nearly slips you fully pull away, turning back into your chair.
“Okay”… you breathe, "Let's work on how we're gonna wow these motherfuckers."
Wooyoung giggles and nods, he stands up and gives your thigh a few taps, walking over back to his chair in victory. "Welcome back Madam CEO! Alright, we’ll go through the presentation one more time. And, I also have a few ideas that might give it that extra edge we need to impress them.”
His charisma makes you eagerly intrigued as you push in your chair. “I think I can help you with that.”
Wooyoung’s tongue says across his lower lip as he is tickled by your duality in attitude. “Sounds like a plan.” Some find it tiring, but it gives them the thrill to run miles. “And uh Mrs.Hart?”, he adds, his tone sincere.
"Yes, Wooyoung?"
"After this deal is done, we'll take some time off, okay? All of us." He gestures wildly between the two of you. "We'll set ground rules or whatever you need to feel comfortable. We're smart people, and we'll figure it out."
…
During the business meeting, you two were more compatible than what occurred in the last week. Ironically, all you needed was each other. All the plans you came up with were fabricated, and so now you decided to go with the flow. A smile and a familiar face prompted your next sentences, all worries dissipated from existence.
As the meeting progresses, Wooyoung finds himself stealing glances at you, a subtle smile playing at the corners of his mouth. It was the ease of your collaboration, the way your minds work in sync, that fills him with a profound sense of rightness.
A round of applause followed after a concluding message. Then after a spring of hands follow with upraised ideas and positive impressions.
With the meeting adjourned, Wooyoung childishly gallops over to you, stopping himself when he was only a couple of inches apart. "We did it," he says softly, leaning in close so that only you can hear. "And we didn't even need all that extra preparation after all. Sometimes, just trusting ourselves and each other is enough."
In a half-decent hug, with the palm of his hand on your back and your fingertips on his shoulders, you pull him near to lean in his ear and whisper, "Let's figure this thing out and get out of here. Just you and me."
He nods against your hair, his voice a low murmur in your ear. "Well, then there’s that thing remember? Let's grab our things and head out then. I know a little place nearby where we can unwind and talk through everything."
Wooyoung is the first to leave the meeting room, and you wait a minute or two to follow him along in the hallway for the ‘thing’.
"Attention, everyone!”, you suddenly shout. All gathering colleagues in cubicles and smart boards outside of the office murmur what could be pressingly hard considering how the nice meeting went. When you and Wooyoung’s partnership was lost, so was everyone else.
To show your reunion, you walk over to Wooyoung and stand alongside him. “I know we're thrilled about our new business endeavors, you've all done such an outstanding job these past couple of months! Wooyoung and I…have given it a lot of thought, and we thought maybe… we could throw another office party.”
Everyone agrees amongst themselves, causing a slight rise in volume before it comes to a quiet again. “But…I decided to tweak it a notch-“
You look at Wooyoung, who picked up on your cue. “To a week-long vacation!"
The announcement goes over incredibly well, with the office erupting in cheers and applause. Your co-workers are thrilled with the news, and several of them come up to you both afterward to express their gratitude and excitement.
Meanwhile, Wooyoung watches as you walk into a crowd from a distance, his eyes shining with pride and approval. He mouths "Perfect," giving you an approving thumbs up and a warm smile.
As the excitement dies down and people start to disperse, he makes his sways his way over to you with his hands in his pockets. "That was brilliant," he says, slipping an arm casually around your waist. "A week-long vacation? Are you sure?”
You step aside for a bit of distance so it doesn't arise suspicions amongst wandering eyes. "They've been working nonstop every weekday, and they deserve it. Besides, I need to take my time with you, what can I say?"
Wooyoung eyes soften at your words, recognizing the passing of obstacles between you two. "You're right…they've more than earned it. And I can't argue with the idea of having more time with you." He glances around, then leans in without ceasing to stop at a professional distance.
You completely step aside and begin to walk off fast with the cross over of your heel. “Not so fast”, you mutter. You then walk off and head to your office up the hall. You cross your hands behind your back, curling your four fingers, a secret gesture for him to follow.
Wooyoung, with an eagle's eye, grins mischievously, easily playing along.He lingers in his spot for a moment, feigning interest in a nearby plant before casually making his way to your office. He slips inside, closing the door softly behind him.
"What is it you couldn't say out there, Miss?" Upon entering, Wooyoung finds you caressing the awards of your company’s prizes on the back shelf behind your desk.
With a click of your hidden hand, the windows begin to shut down. You turn and make your way to where he stands, tapping your long stiletto pink nails on every surface along the way.
You gesture for him to take a seat in the lounging area with light pink tuxedo sofas, and a reflective glass table in its centerpiece. His eyes never fell from the sharpness of your nails, but he listens accordingly, pulling his tie around to relieve his tightening throat.
"I'll accept your offer.” You push off the wall to stand in front of him, slightly bending to place a palm gently above his beating heart, smirking at the hard palpations. “I want to be your mistress. To use you, and to experience pleasure… I've never felt before."
Wooyoung inhales sharply as your hand rests over his heart, feeling it race beneath your touch. His eyes darken with desire, a low groan escaping his lips. "Madam, uh Mrs. Hart.." He reaches up, gently grasping your wrist. "Are you sure about this?"
You take your free hand and angle his head toward your cunning face by his sharp jaw, tucking in his long stands with your other hand, pressing forward so your lips are by his ear. "Do you have to ask me twice?"
“No”, Wooyoung breathes, turning his head slightly to nuzzle into your palm. "But I need to hear you say it again." His voice is ragged, filled with longing. "Say it again you want to be mine, that you want me to be yours… like that."
"I'm yours…to obey, and you remain mine… to control." Wooyoung's heart skips a beat at the declaration, his entire body trembling with need. You drag your hot pink sharp nails that he adores on his face. His eyes cross adorably as he tracks them along his naturally sharpened jaw. You watch as his blood circulates beneath the surface, and you pepper small, feverish kisses along the area.
He lets out a shuddering sigh, and his eyes flutter closed as he savors the feeling of your nails scratching along his jaw, doubled when you start placing those heated kisses on his burning skin. "Mine… to control. God, Madam…". His hands tighten around your wrist on his chest, and the arm you're using to angle his head.
"Do you like the sound of that, darling?" You look deep into his doe eyes, indenting your nails in his jaw with anticipation.
"I do. So much that it's… intoxicating," Wooyoung whispers, his pupils dilating as he gazes into your eyes. "The thought of you controlling me, it's… please, Madam, touch me… like you did that Friday night. Please…" He trails off, leaning into your touch, his body yearning for more.
A devilish smirk overrides your sultry expression. "Please, please, please…" you mock pathetically, your drag fingers down his veiny neck. "I can't believe you're so desperate for me."
Wooyoung's face flushes with embarrassment, but the desire in his eyes only intensifies. "I can't help it," he admits softly. "You drive me crazy. The way you touch me, the way you talk to me… it's addictive."
You inch toward his lips but pull away teasingly seconds later. "Follow me…" you grab a hold of his tie, pulling him forward. Wooyoung scrambles to the floor and crawls on all fours as he tries to match your pace, the click of your heels and his pattering hands make the loudest noise in the empty space.
Once you’ve made it back to the desk, you pull out your guest chair, twirling it with one hand, and pulling up his loosened tie with the other. "Sit.”
Wooyoung stumbles slightly as you pull him upward and onto the chair with his eyes locked onto yours. He sits down heavily, his breath hitching in his throat as he waits for your next move. "What do you want me to do now, mistress?"
"Just sit there and look pretty baby. I haven't even made up my mind yet." You tap his shoulder as you walk behind him, pulling out your chair from your desk and pushing it forth right in front of Wooyoung. Sitting in it backward, you spread your legs wide and you slide down in it with your pink vest pantsuit.
You bite the tip of your lengthy nails as you watch him squirm, and your teeth spread into a wicked smile. You tap your heels on the floor with an original rhythm. Wooyoung’s throat bobs with every tap, and his eyes are directed to the heel now and again, which stroke a shocking idea.
The sharpness of your stiletto heel reflects the sunshine when you hold it in the air, and when it falls- it lands on Wooyoung’s shin.
He swallows hard, watching as you bite at your nail, the crimson hue of your lips wrapping around it. He squirms in his seat, his breath coming in short pants as the heel of your shoe grinds against his shin. "Aughhh, Mistress, you’re digging in kind of deep. It hurts."
You’re relentless and just gaze upon him in contemplation-ignoring his pleas. You had used your restlessness night for research studies on this new dynamic you’ve both been secretly craving. Let's just say, your search history is not up to par with your business etiquette. "I hear you honeybun, I just decided what I'm going to do with you."
Wooyoung whimpers, trying to shift in his seat to alleviate some of the pain from your heel grinding against his shin. His breath hitches as you lean forward, the heat of your body wafting over him.
"What…what are you going to do, my Mistress?" Wooyoung asks, his voice trembling with a combination of fear and excitement. He shifts in his seat, his hands gripping the arms of the chair tightly. The suspense is killing him, but he knows better than to try and rush you.
“Eyes forward." You abruptly stop your heel grinding which brings him great relief. That was until you got up to walk around behind him again.
Wooyoung quickly complies, keeping his eyes fixed forward as instructed. He can hear your footsteps behind him, the clicking of your heels against the floor is making his heart do backflips. His breath catches in his throat as he feels your presence looming over him, and then your hands come to rest on his shoulders, gripping them firmly.
The next thing he knew was his tie being yanked from the collar of his neck, wrinkling his white button-up in the process. His eyes widen as he feels himself nearly choke. He hears the fabric rustle as you wrap it around your hands, and then has his vision suddenly taken from his senses when all he can see is pitch black.
You comb his neck-length hair to be tucked under the silk material, scratching his tender scalp in the process.
He lets out a low moan as you comb his hair back and tuck it under the makeshift blindfold. His body tenses as he feels your nails scraping gently against his scalp, the sensation both pleasing and unnerving. With his sight deprived, the heightening of his other senses makes his toes curl.
"Are you okay kitty?" You suddenly whispered with a small kitten lick of your own to his ear. Wooyoung mewls at the unexpected warmth of your tongue against his ear, the whisper of your voice sending shivers down his spine. He nods instinctively, his hands balling into fists as he tries to process the overwhelming sensations. "Y-yes.”
Your heels click once again like a ticking clock. Your claws grab a hold of Wooyoung's shoulders, spinning him around in fast circles.
When he feels himself uncontrollably turning into three-sixties, he lets out a frightened yelp- his arms flailing out to try and grab onto something for support. The room is like a maze around him, his disorientation amplified by the blindfold.
Then he hears your heels clicking faster as you rush to stop him. Wooyoung’s breath quickens, and you kiss him to calm his nerves.
“You still with me kitty cat?" Wooyoung gasps against your lips, his breath hitching as the dizziness finally subsides. He clings to you for support, his shaking fingers digging into the soft flesh of your arms. "Y-Yes, mistress. I'm still here," he pants, his voice barely a whisper.
You pull his fingers from your flesh, and reposition those same fingers to be placed on his crotch. "Can you give your mistress a show kitty? Can you show me how desperate you are for me?"
Wooyoung inhales sharply as he feels your hands guiding his own to his crotch. His face flushes with embarrassment and arousal under the blindfold. "Mistress, l…I don't know if I can," he stammers, his fingers trembling against the growing bulge in his pants.
"You don't know, if you can obey me? Is that what you're telling me, baby?"
Wooyoung bites his lip, hesitation clear in his voice. "No, mistress. I mean, l, I want to, but… it's embarrassing." His fingers twitch against his crotch, the warmth of his touch through the fabric both shaming and arousing. "Please, mistress. I… I'm not used to touching myself like this. It's… it's shameful." His voice grows quieter, laced with a mix of humiliation and desire.
"Awe you poor kitty. Shameful, you say?" You descend to your knees, rubbing your claws onto the blinded male's firm thighs. “Answer me this: where was your shame when you asked me to be your mistress? To kiss the ground before me? You proposed your body for me to control like the slut you are…and now you want to mention shame?"
His breath hitches as your claws rake gently against his thighs, his legs parting wider in invitation. His face scrunches up under the blindfold, torn between humiliation and need. "Y-You're right, mistress. I… I have no right to feel shame." I'm yours, completely," he stammers, his voice cracking with emotion. "I surrendered everything to you, mistress. My body, my dignity, my shame."
As he speaks, you begin to undress him, your hands moving slowly and deliberately under his. Once his belt is removed and his tie is unzipped, you pull the band off his boxers away to take in his full package and spit on the head thickly. You watch the bubbly mess cascade down to the base of his shaft, snapping the material back into place causing his cock to bounce against his abdomen. "Show me everything."
The sudden snap of the boxer returning bounces his rigid length and causes him to jerk in his restraints- his balls drawing up tight against his body. "The floor is yours, baby. Prove yourself to me."
Wooyoung takes a deep, shuddering breath, his fingers slowly wrapping around his hard pink flesh. He hesitates for a moment, his face flushed with embarrassment before he begins to slowly stroke himself.
"You're such a good boy kitty”. His head shudders around slowly, he hears your voice in praise all around him. “Surrending yourself to me with control of your submissive mind."
As he strokes himself, Wooyoung's mind falls completely under your control. He becomes a puppet, his thoughts consumed by his obedience to you, and his only desire to please you. His movements grow to become more desperate and frantic as he imagines himself as your perfect, submissive kitty.
You smile with delight, as your deep research played off effectively into reality. ‘How to tame your sub 101; place them in an environment of vulnerability, rules, and trust. Contain them to follow your rules with consensual precedence, and praise them with every obedient action.’
Wooyoung’s breathing grows heavier as he continues to pleasure himself under your watchful gaze. The room is filled with the sound of his desperate pants and the slick sounds of his hand moving on his wet flesh. "Please, mistress… praise me.”
Your research continues: "Praise will become a natural practice if it is positively connoted with reward. Your sub might even desperately ask for it to ensure they are following your command to your standards.'
"You’re doing so well my little kitten. You're so obedient to me my love." Wooyoung's body shudders with relief and pleasure at your praise, his strokes becoming more purposeful and rhythmic. He arches into his touch, craving more of your approval. "Thank you, mistress… I'm trying so hard to be good for you. I want to make you proud."
"You are baby,” you affirm. “I'm so proud of you." You bend over from your desk and raise his shirt to rub onto his abdomen, right above his ministrations. "Can you cum right here for me babe?"
Wooyoung's eyes roll back in his head as your warm hands rub against his stomach, the friction and heat making his orgasm imminent. He nods frantically, his hand moving faster on his cock as he fights to hold back his orgasm until you permit him to release.
You continue to smooth your hand over his belly, specifically on the surrounding areas that tense from his approaching orgasm. Focusing primarily on the bulges in his stomach, you push down heavily to further alleviate the sensations. "Do it, baby. You've been so good. Cum for me."
With a final, desperate cry, Wooyoung's body convulses as he spills over his hand and onto his belly, just as you commanded.
His whole body goes lax, hanging limply in the restraints as he catches his breath, basking in the afterglow of his release and your praise.
To quiet his desperate cries, you kiss him passionately. It was like his brain had gone to mush, you figured the blindfold might've even affected his sense of location, given that you were still in the office. "Quiet lovebug. Those pretty cries are only meant for me to hear, okay?"
He whimpers against your mouth, his body shuddering with aftershocks as he nods frantically, silently promising to keep his noises to himself. He nuzzles into your touch, loving the way you silence him and claim his sounds as your own.
Slowly, you separated your touch from his sweaty skin and removed your mouth from his pouting one. You then reach back to grab his blindfold, allowing him to see the mess he made. "Good boy."
Wooyoung’s eyes flutter open, and he blinks in confusion for a moment before his gaze focuses on the mess on his belly and chest. He looks up at you with wide, adoring eyes, his face flushed with embarrassment and happiness. He beams with pride at being called a "good boy" by you.
A similar expression comes onto your face in effect of his own. You reach forward to comb back the wet strands of his hair into a slick back.
His cock twitches once more from the grace of your nails. You notice immediately, and your eyes shimmer at his release. You scoop it up with your other hand from his abdomen, giving it a taste and fluttering your eyes with satisfaction. You then offer him some using the same finger, waiting for his acceptance. "Don't you wanna know how sweet you taste?"
Wooyoung's eyes widen as he watches you taste him, a shiver of arousal running through his spent body. He eagerly parts his lips, his tongue darting out to lick your offered finger clean.
In awe you inch closer as his mouth takes in your finger whole, mobilizing his hand back and forth as his deep-set eyes entrances you in a spell with his warm mouth, giving you the craziest ideas. You grab him by the strand in the back of his hands and pull him off. After you then walk over to the desk and throw him a pack of wipes. "Clean yourself up, Wooyoung. You made a mess."
His eyes meet yours, filled with a mix of curiosity and lust from your intense stare. He nods obediently, taking the wipes and cleaning himself off thoroughly while you watch.
Your senses come back to you as you hurriedly turn your back and crack open the door to your office in caution of any bystanders. It wasn't your intention to start this so soon. But with Wooyoung being the man he is, you were prompt under temptation.
As Wooyoung finishes cleaning up, he hears the door creak open and feels a cool breeze against his bare skin. He tilts his head, listening intently, and hearing the faint sound of voices outside. He bites his lip, hoping no one has heard his earlier noises.
Wooyoung looks down at his disheveled appearance - shirt rumpled, hair mussed, a faint sheen of sweat on his skin. He quickly redresses himself, fingers fumbling with the buttons of his shirt as he tries to keep his composure.
You turn back to him as you hear his rustling. Wooyoung freezes mid-zip-up as you turn back, his cheeks flushing pink as he realizes how disheveled he must look.
He offers you a shy, slightly nervous smile, unsure of what to say after such an intense and unexpected encounter in your office. His heart races, wondering if this changes anything between you.
The hallway wasn't exactly busy after her exciting announcement of a week-long vacation. But there was always someone who wanted to stay behind. "What should we do?"
Wooyoung swallows hard, his Adam's apple bobbing. "Do? About…?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper. He's not sure if you're asking about how to proceed with the new relationship, or how to make sure no one finds out about what just happened in your office. Either way, he had not a fucking clue.
You walk over to him tirelessly and sigh, straightening up his appearance for yourself. "We'll get to that later, but first, we need a way out of here without looking suspicious.”
Wooyoung nods, understanding your unspoken words. He takes a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart and appear nonchalant. "How about… we just walk out together? Like we were just having a meeting?" He suggests, his voice steadier now.
"You look like you ran a mile baby”, you giggle. “What kind of meeting would that entail?"
He pouts slightly at your teasing remark. "A… passionate one?" he offers, trying to match your teasing tone. He grins mischievously. "We can say we were discussing… the details of the company retreat, and that we decided to pop off some champagne. The one behind your desk over there."
A lightbulb shined over your head from the idea, you glanced over and grabbed the bottle quickly from the fridge. "I don't have a cork for this thing. I got it as a gift a while back when some money-chasing assholes tried to sway me in a meeting. This is good stuff… otherwise it would've been in the trash."
Wooyoung chuckles softly, walking over to you. "Well, it seems like fate that you kept it then. We can use it as our cover story.”
He stands tall looking handsome as ever, like you were the one sitting in the chair. He takes the bottle from your hands and looks down at the floor, tilting his head in deep inspection. "That's it."
You look down on the floor, looking down and stumbling around like a frantic mess. "What is it? What's that?"
He looks up at you, a small smile playing on his lips. He carefully places the champagne bottle on the floor, descending to his knees. Your eyes widen at the moment, and he makes dangerous eye contact with you as he caresses your golden stiletto heel. "Your heel, I can pop open the cork with it."
In shock and confused arousal, you look down upon him and instinctively quirk a brow. "Yeah…good thinking."
Wooyoung grins up at you, his hands gently caressing your ankle as he positions the heel of your shoe over the cork of the champagne bottle. With a swift, practiced motion, he pops the cork, sending it flying across the room. You duck in response, and when calm takes over again, you snap out of your trance and smile at him with a nervous laugh. “Holy shit! You did it!”
Wooyoung laughs softly, getting back up to his feet. He picks up the now open bottle of champagne, and takes a swig straight from it, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "See? Now we've got our alibi."
Even the simplistic action of him taking a swig out of the bottle made him fondly attractive. "Yeah…but who opens champagne without shaking things up a little?" You then grab the bottle out of his grasp and do the action of shaking things up. You pour the bubbling liquid on his chest and yours the same. A bit sprinkles on the floor for the added effect of "the mess" you've made.
As the cold, fizzy liquid hits his skin he inhales sharply. His soaking shirt gave an appealing view of his erect nipples and muscles. He looks at you, eyes wide with surprise, but laughter erupts suddenly in his throat. "Well, now we've really got to sell this."
You nod, drinking the remaining bits, then jerk your head up to indicate for Wooyoung to tilt his backward. You provide him a nice pour as your hand supports his jaw. "We just stole on a major renovation of our business. We can do anything."
Wooyoung swallows the remnants deliciously. Some of it spills down the sides of his face, onto his neck, and down his chest, mingling with the earlier pours. He swallows convulsively, his Adam's apple bobbing. "Let's get the hell out of here."
The two of you giggle out of the room as if you were on your way to a honeymoon getaway. But honestly, that's what it felt like.
Wooyoung leads the way out of the office, champagne dripping from his clothes and pooling on the floor behind you. As you both reach the elevator, he presses the button and turns to you, a sly grin spreading across his face.
Suddenly, the doors open once again, and Jeong Yunho, your second-longest colleague after Mark, follows in. "Mrs. Hart and Mr. Jung! It looks like you two had some early celebrations amongst yourselves."
Wooyoung grin widens, and he drapes an arm casually around your shoulders.
"You could say that. We just sealed the deal on the new renovation project. A job well done deserves a little…celebration, don't you think?"
Wooyoung elbow budges into your side. You begin to curse him but the language in his eyes begs you to follow along. "Yeah Mr.Jeong, how about you get a taste! You work so hard, and it wouldn't hurt for you to let loose. You hadn't shown up at the office party last term!"
Wooyoung nods approvingly, he looks at the subordinate with a mischievous glint in his eye. "Well, since you put it that way…", Mr.Jeong trails off. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small gray flask from his cross body. "I always keep a little something extra for special occasions."
The both of you laugh hard in surprise. "Did you prepare that beforehand?”, you yelp. "That's so out of character for you!"
Wooyoung winks at you conspiratorially. "A good businessman always comes prepared. You never know when you might need to grease the wheels of negotiation… or in this case, loosen up a hardworking subordinate." Mr.Jeong raises his flask in the air saluting a cheers toward Wooyoung before swallowing a bit of his own.
The elevator dings to the main lobby, and you all step off into the cooling fresh air. "Well, I hope to see you at the next party then, and bring that fun energy with you too okay?!"
Mr.Jeong takes another swig from the flask, coughs slightly, and nods enthusiastically. "Definitely, Mrs.Hart- and Mr. Jung, thanks for the, uh, motivation!" Wooyoung claps him on the back and waves goodbye as he scurries off.
“Anytime, just don’t start your vacation behind bars man. Enjoy!” The two of you snicker as you watch him hurriedly place the flask back into his bag. Once the coast is clear, you scurry towards your cars as quickly as you could be.
"I guess that wasn't so bad”, you mutter with a shrug. Wooyoung holds his passenger door open for you, his eyes twinkling with mischief and a hint of something deeper. "Not bad at all”, he confirms. “I'd say that was a rather… stimulating start to our getaway."
You turn to him outside and purse your lips in disbelief, playfully smacking him in his wet chest. "That's not what I meant at all!”
Wooyoung catches your wrist, his fingers wrapping around it gently. He pulls you closer, his voice dropping to a low, sultry tone. "Oh, I know. But it's what I meant…
And besides, you're the one who poured champagne all over us."
You yank your wrist into your lap, and he closes the door swiftly before settling into his seat. You squeeze into his cheek when he gets adjusted with your thumb giving him a little prick. "Well, it got us through, no?"
Wooyoung slyly turns his head before you can catch on, he captures your thumb between his teeth, gently biting down before releasing it. "Mmm, it certainly did. But now, I think it's time for some…deep cleaning."
…
Wooyoung guides you into the luxurious bathroom of his private villa by the beach, the soft glow of recessed lighting through the windows casts a warm, inviting ambiance in the evening.
He turns on the shower, and steam begins to fill the room. In no time flat, he starts to unbutton your vest top, his fingers brushing against your skin gently. "Arms up."
You allow him to make the calls, and your boobs fall into their natural place. You'd been in pain from the bra wire in the car while saying, "Something’s poking me". Wooyoung wouldn't let you strip it off, with the other hand on the wheel he held over your boobs shouting, "Hey, I'm supposed to be undressing you!”
Wooyoung smiles widely, his eyes gleaming with mischief as he takes off his suit jacket and tosses it aside. “I think I need a little assistance with my tie." He looks up at you expectantly, his hands reaching for the knot.
There wasn't a problem at all. The only problem was that you ended that segment too quickly before the private champagne party. The specific moment where you were yanking the same tie clean off his neck and robbing him blind. "You want it the rough way baby?", you tease.
Woo's grin widens, and he nods eagerly.
"You know what I want."
You quickly jerk his neck causing him to step a few feet forward. He grabs your hips for stability in precaution, but it fascinated him that you could do it quicker than any working man he knew.
"You asked for it kitty."
Wooyoung's eyes sparkle with excitement as he watches you effortlessly rip his tie off. He lets out a small gasp as he stumbles forward, his hands gripping your hips tightly to keep himself steady. "Me-ow", he says seductively.
The power to not be tantalized by his sassiness was something to adjust to. You hurriedly pop open the buttons to his shirt with triple speed, throwing it over his shoulders. His eyes followed behind it until he felt a tug being worked on his lower half.
What you found strip by strip was more and more veiny. You undress him completely, working on taking off your lengthy pants along with your underwear. "Shower, now."
Wooyoung quickly leads you both into the spacious, glass-enclosed shower. The warm water cascades over your body as he pulls you close, his hands roaming over your curves appreciatively. "You're absolutely stunning," he murmurs, his lips brushing against your ear.
"Hadn't you taken a look in that mirror?" You seductively imply, also hinting at his wonderfully stunning body. He did not have the body of a businessman man with a poached belly and loose muscle. He was desirably for you, the exact opposite. You reach up to gently scratch his back with your nails, your ghost of breath of the shell of his ears.
Wooyoung mewls softly in response, his arms tightening around you possessively. "I wasn't talking about me," he says huskily as he turns into your neck, twisting his tongue in long circles down your body.
"Woo…” you try to warn, but the feeling is all too good for unnecessary punishment. "What are you doing baby?", you mutter softly under the calming waters- watching as his body descends along with his tongue.
Wooyoung ignores your warning, his mouth continuing its descent until he's kneeling at your feet. He presses open-mouthed kisses against your inner thighs, his hands spreading your legs further apart. "I'm just cleaning you like a good kitty my mistress," he says, his voice muffled against your skin.
Your hands immediately enthrall the slippery wet strands of Wooyoung’s hair. The density of the water gave you a firmer grip as an advantage. "You'll do just that and only that kitty. You're already crossing the line by making decisions.”
Wooyoung purrs mischievously against your flesh, his hands gripping into your bottom to keep you in place. His tongue slowly glides up your center, parting your folds gently. "As you wish, mistress. Just cleaning." His mouth immediately finds your inner center, and he begins to lavish attention on you with his tongue, just as he promised.
A moan shakes out from your bones as you hike your leg on his shoulder like a pedestal. This way you figured out he wanted to be a brat, you’ll have to remind him who's the decision-maker later on.
Wooyoung hums appreciatively as you hike your leg over his shoulder, giving him better access. He doubles his efforts, his tongue delving deeper as he savors your taste. One hand slides around to tease your entrance, a single finger circling the rim teasingly.
Your eyes furrow in pleasure. There was no kidding when Wooyoung said the words, "Use all of me for your pleasure in ways you've never experienced before.’ With no insertions, he already had your body and mind convulsing “Kitty.."
Wooyoung looks up at you, his eyes gleaming with pride and satisfaction as he watches you shake and tremble. Woo murmurs against your sensitive flesh, his finger finally pressing inside as he continues to lap at your clit. He curls his finger, rubbing against that magical spot inside as he sucks hard on your clit, his protruding nose pressing perfectly against your folds.
You catch a glimpse of his smile through your hooded lids that Wooyoung thought were completely closed. To his surprise, you jerk him forward with your hovered leg on his shoulder. "Eat up you little brat, you don't get to tease."
Wooyoung is pulled forward, his face buried between your legs as he's forced to devour you. He gags as your legs clamp around his head, his nose buried in your pussy. He sucks and laps at your folds desperately, trying to breathe through his mouth as he eats you out with reckless abandon.
Your grip on his head grows firmer as your pointy nails are nearly embedded in his scalp. You swivel his head around despite his struggles for a deeper feel. "Good fucking kitty”, you moan.
Wooyoung mewls pitifully against you as you force his head to swivel, his tongue lapping desperately wherever you direct him. His claws dig into your bottom, leaving small half-moon indentations in your flesh as he tries to hang on.
With little time, you grow wary of Wooyoung’s upkeep of lapping his tongue. You tried to make him slip up and test him as punishment, but you were failing your test as you jerked forward and grew weaker from the tension in your abdomen.
Wooyoung feels your body tensing, your grip on his hair tightening painfully. He redoubles his efforts, his tongue thrusting in and out of you as his finger continues to work its magic. He nips gently at your swollen folds, soothing the slight sting with a long, slow lick.
As if it were a hit-and-run, you jerk forward completely with a loud gasp from his unanticipated capabilities. That strong jaw wasn't just good for smart talk.
Wooyoung feels your body shudder and convulse around his invading tongue and finger. He moans in triumph against you, the vibrations only intensifying your pleasure. He continues to lap and suckle gently as you ride out your high, coaxing out every last drop of your release.
You breathe deeply and tilt your head back from the intense orgasm. As you tilt your head in its previous place, you make eye contact with the man below and yank him upward with the hand you never let leave his scalp.
Wooyoung staggers back, his face glistening with your essence and his long wet strands as he gasps for breath. "You taste even better than I imagined mistress."
You huff with a scowl and grip his jaw, releasing it seconds after to smack him for pretending not to have been so disorderly. "And now you'll get a taste of what I have for you for being a pest."
Wooyoung pouts dramatically, rubbing his reddened cheek. "But… I only wanted to make you feel good…" He trails off, his eyes darting in between yours as he effectively evaporates the madness. He swallows hard, his voice barely a whisper. "Please…"
"Stop using that mouth of yours, and listen to me." You coldly demand.
Wooyoung shifts his feet, his heart racing as he stands before you. He keeps his gaze lowered in guilt of his previous transgression. He stands at attention, waiting for his punishment to be inflicted.
"Why should you show shame now from how far you've come?" You snap, bearing daggers in his face. "Eyes on me."
Wooyoung’s eyes slowly lift to meet yours, a flicker of defiance sparking in their depths before he remembers his place.
"I.."
Another slap sounds through the space. As Wooyoung's head turns sideways, but you bring it forward again. “I knew what you did, I didn't dumb down from an orgasm, not like how will kitty."
Wooyoung’s head snaps back from the slap, his eyes widening in arousal and pain. He struggles to keep his gaze locked on yours, but it's clear he's fighting a losing battle. His eyes start to water as he tries to maintain eye contact, his face burning with shame.
"Clean yourself quickly, and go out to lie on the bed, 'll be out not long after, and DONT put any clothes on whatsoever, understood?"
Woo nods jerkily, his voice mute to any sound. He turns around, wiping his face with his wrinkled fingers washing his body as you watch behind him.
Not long after Wooyoung walks out with only a towel around his waist.
…
You take your shower and come out lotioned up with lingerie and bondage you retrieved from the adult shop hidden in your purse. It was a leather neon pink number paired with a waist belt, and (‘X’) marks the spot boob tape. What caught Wooyoung’s attention most was the matching color leather whip in your hold, along with a thick twist of rope.
“What's your safe word?" You ask quizzically as he lies as directed upon the bed, the leather tapping with rhythm on your bare hand while the rope dangles on your wrist.
Wooyoung swallows hard, his voice trembling slightly as he replies, "M-my safe word is… orchid, mistress." He looks at the leather, his eyes wide with a mix of fear and anticipation. "Is that for me?"
"Orchid?" you inquire, "and when did you come up with that?" You stop at the edge of the bed and place your whip purposely near him, knowing it would get him riled up.
Wooyoung’s face flushes, and he looks away, fidgeting with the towel around his waist. "I… I came up with it a few days ago, mistress. I was thinking about it a lot, and it reminded me of you and… parts of you."
"Awe…how thoughtful!" You falsely stated in surprise. You pull your hands down and smooth your pink claws over the fiery pink hot lingerie. "Can you guess my favorite color baby?"
"Pink…" Wooyoung answers confidently, his eyes glued to your lingerie. His tongue darts out to wet his lips as he takes in your appearance, his body tensing as he tries to rein in his growing arousal.
"Good! And one of the colors of an orchid is…" You trail off waiting for his pending answer.
Wooyoung's eyes widen as realization dawns on him. "Pink…" he breathes out, his voice filled with awe and a hint of nervousness. "The color of an orchid is pink, mistress. Just like your favorite color…"
You smile charmingly at his attention to detail, climbing onto the bed near his lean body. You unfold the towel, opening the layers on his right and left sides. With a pleased expression, your eyes rein over him for the third time in a day. "SSC… do you know what that means?"
Wooyoung inhales sharply as your body presses against his, the cool fabric of your lingerie a stark contrast to his heated skin. He nods, his voice strained. "Yes, mistress… SSC means Safe, Sane, and Consensual. It's a key principle in… in this kind of play."
You nod in approval. "Would you say it feels safe, sane, and consensual if we proceed with this, Kitty cat?" You uphold the whip, presenting it along his skin to show your further intentions.
Wooyoung's eyes widen as he sees the rope, his breath catching in his throat. He looks up at you, his gaze flickering between your face and the whip as he makes the connection. After a moment, he nods slowly, his voice steady despite the tremor of excitement running through him. "I trust you, mistress."
With his approval, you proceeded to bond his hands in a killer knot as you pushed them over his head. With the whip in hand, you strike it in the air as a test, and it proves functional as it cracks above the crashing waves outdoors. "Baby, baby, baby. Look at where a potty mouth ended up placing you. Tell me, was it worth it?"
He looks up at you, his eyes filled with a mix of trepidation and anticipation as you stalk over him. "That wasn't rhetorical, darling. I need you to give me an answer."
Wooyoung swallows hard, his heart pounding in his chest. He looks up at you, his voice shaking slightly as he responds. "Yes, mistress… it was worth it. Every curse, every argument, every moment of defiance was worth it just to end up here, tied on this bed, and at your mercy."
"Huh." You scoff, both aroused and annoyed by his pride in disobedience. "How. Fucking. Pathetic." You throw the whip over his abdomen, causing a crackle to echo through the space.
Wooyoung hisses in a sharp breath as the whip cracks against his skin, his abs contracting from the sudden impact. He bites his lower lip to muffle a moan, his hips bucking slightly as the pain morphs into pleasure.
You go back to tracing over his now reddened skin, never taking your eyes off your prey as if it was always your destiny. "Another question: Have you ever thought about this very moment before the night we kissed, in a meeting, or the night you took me home drunk…in my office?"
Wooyoung’s breathing grows heavier as even the lightest traces on his skin burn so good. He nods jerkily, his eyes fluttering closed for a moment before snapping back open to maintain eye contact with you. "Yes, mistress… I've thought about it. A lot." He hesitates before continuing. "…Especially in your office. The power dynamic, the way you commanded me, the way you looked in your suits… it used to fuel many of my… fantasies." He trails off, blushing deeply at the admission.
You bite your lips just thinking about those moments over the past few months, just wishing you could've known then to feel this thrill sooner. "So let me ask you this. How long have you transpired in this fantasy before you met me?"
Wooyoung traces down your body above him. His eyes flick down to your hips where your fingers toy absently with the end of the whip. He lets out a slow breath. "Years, mistress. I've had these tendencies for years. But the fantasies of you… were the first to come to life."
Wooyoung pauses, his eyes locked onto yours. "Since the first time I saw you across the boardroom table”, he grins at the memory in thought, “I left that meeting with a new… obsession."
It’s not something you mention with words, but to be his first to control him like this turned you on. You lower yourself to straddle over his crotch, trailing the whip over his nipples to heighten his arousal. "I never knew until you walked into my office that I desired such a man who could simply just be obedient. But then you were funny, and you livened up the room so well that made the office breathable. I smiled for the first time without presentation.”
Wooyoung feels antsy with your heat over his reaction, the whip strings trace over his nipples, and your admiration for his character. His body arches into your gentle caress and he spills out a shivering moan. "Thank you, mistress…"
Just in the moment when his eyes closed momentarily in bliss, your face contorted into a wicked grin throwing the whip up high to land onto Wooyoung’s relaxed chest. "I want you, and now you're making me weak. Just like you…"
Wooyoung gasps sharply as the whip snaps against his chest, his body jerking slightly at the sudden impact. His eyes, which had grown soft with emotion, snap back into focus, dilating with renewed arousal and submission. "Mistress…" he breathes, voice husky. "I never meant to make you weak."
"And you never could darling. So the stunt you pulled off in the shower? This will be the result of your disobedience, each, and every time." Your smiles wavers in and out of seriousness. In honesty, you’re truly happy to experience this with him, and the trust of power he gave to you to use at your will.
Wooyoung shivers at your words, his body tensing in anticipation. "Yes, mistress," he says, his voice barely above a whisper. "I understand."
You whip him once more, staggering him by surprise. "Again."
He grunts at the sudden impact, his back arching off the bed. "I understand.” He grits his teeth, bracing himself for the next strike, his arms tightening around the bedposts as his whole body tenses in anticipation.
You whip him once more, heartless and unnerving. "Again!"
Woo's cry turns into a broken, guttural moan as the whip bites into his flesh once more. His body convulses, pulling taut against the restraints, his breathing erratic and shallow. Tears of pain and overwhelm prick at the corners of his eyes as he struggles to keep his voice steady. "I understand, mistress!"
At last, you’re satisfied, and the whip is thrown to the far side of the room. You lift yourself from the meat of his thighs, reaching under the mattress for the body oil you hid when you came in on arrival. "I don't recall you putting any lotion on when you got out of the shower. But you were just following orders, huh pretty boy?"
Wooyoung’s head lolls to the side, his chest heaving as he tries to regain his breath. "Y-yes, mistress… I-I was only following orders…"He trails off, his voice hitching as you settle onto his thighs and begin to drizzle cool oil onto his heated skin.
Your hand smooths over his new wound and other plain parts of his bare body in a deep tissue massage. "That's okay baby, you’re managing well kitty.”
Wooyoung moans softly as your hands begin to work into his muscles, the oil-slicked touch soothing the hurt and
heightening his sensitivity. "Th-thank you, mistress…" His head rolls back, eyes fluttering closed as he revels in the sensation of your touch.
You cease your touch when he begins to relax, booping his nose with a smidge of oil. "You're getting comfortable…."
His eyes snap open at the sudden touch to his nose, a startled "Mistress!" escaping his lips. He tenses, suddenly hyper-aware again, his body coiled with tension and need. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to…"
"Tututututututu." You click your tongue in disapproval, placing an oil-lubed finger on his lips. "Uh uh." You encircle his lips with the oil and circle back to the starting place in the middle. "Words can't save you now."
He whines softly around it, trying to speak but unable to with his mouth occupied. He struggles against his restraints, his body thrashing lightly as he realizes he's in for something else. "Mistress, please…", he mutters.
"No thank you." One of your hands grips the base of his bare cock, while the other tortuously rubs the cockhead. Wooyoung's back arches, his hips bucking against the restraints as your hands begin their tormenting dance.
Tears well up in his eyes as he becomes overwrought with sensation. His shiny lips smooth together from the outburst."M-Mistress… "Mmmph!" Your eyes close as you intake his moans- continuing your crazy work regardless of his cries.
The weakening man’s moans rise in pitch and volume as you continue your relentless stimulation. His cock throbs and twitches in your grip, the oil allowing your hands to glide slickly along his shaft.
"Mmmnnngggg!"
Wooyoung’s pleas turn into a wordless, desperate whine as your touch becomes more insistent. Your hands stop they play when you ride out your clothed pussy on his pulsing red cock. His body tenses, his muscles standing out in sharp relief as he fights against the restraints. The male gives up, he realizes words can never get him far when he wants his way.
You sigh in contentment, feeling in your breasts as you ride him crazily with no fixed pace. "Muuuuch better baby… come for me"
His body tenses and quivers as the clogged oil in his pores mixes in his release, causing it to glisten beautifully on your body, his body, and the sheets under the soft lighting. Wooyoung back bows off the bed, his body convulsing as he lets out a muffled, wordless cry of release.
You slow your ride to adore the mess under you, licking the white ropes of cum that fell perfectly on your breast. You moan and tilt your head back as your orgasm approaches, chuckling proudly at your accomplishments.
…
Wooyoung's arms fall limply to his sides as the restraints are loosened, His body still trembling with residual pleasure. He winces slightly as the circulation returns to his wrists, and your soothing touch eases the discomfort.
To comfort him further, you pull him near to your breasts to cuddle him as a little spoon. You and Wooyoung both were spent in the characters that you play so well. “Are you feeling okay?", you worriedly question.
He cuddles into your embrace, his body melting against yours as he purrs softly. "Yes, Mistress… I'm okay. "But, that was-
You kissed his shoulder and looked down sympathetically in your limited understanding. "Quite intense…l know."
"Intense doesn't even begin to cover it," Wooyoung murmurs, his eyes drifting shut as he snuggles closer to you. "It was perfect. Just how I needed it." He sighs contentedly, feeling safe and cherished in his mistress's arms.
In adornment, you pepper him with kisses. You pull the towel from under him and pat off the excess oil. "You did so well baby. Thank you for pulling through."
"For you, Mistress… anything." He brings a hand to cup your cheeks, smiling at you with a mole that is marked beautifully on his lower lip. "I'm… I'm so tired now…" His voice trails off sleepily, his hand falling back to his side.
You giggle and throw the rope aside for the man to properly lie his sleepy head. "I'm going to clean us up, I'll be right back."
Wooyoung mumbles something unintelligible in response, already halfway asleep as you shift up from behind him.
After cleaning yourself as best you could, too lazy to strip from the intimate material. You come back out to thoroughly cleanse the man before you as you apply a lukewarm rag against his ab ridden core. You even went to the lengths to apply a cooling cream and bandage to his whippings. Although you did all the work, Wooyoung was the one who endured it all even after the play.
Wooyoung remains oblivious to the gentle care you’re providing, his half-asleep state rendering him only softly whimpering from cooling cream and bandages being applied to his battered torso. He simply lies there, his chest rising and falling steadily as he sleeps, his face peaceful despite the marks and bruises adorning his skin.
You set aside the products to be put up when morning comes. Only he mattered now to hold all of your attention.
…
The first rays of sunlight peek through the curtains, gently rousing Wooyoung from his deep slumber. He blinks slowly, a soft groan escaping his lips as he stretches, his muscles protesting slightly from last night's intense activities.
You stir beside him, your arms tightening instinctively around his waist. With a joyous grin, he turns in the embrace- his eyes still heavy with sleep but filled with warmth and adoration.
"Good morning, my orchid," he murmurs, his voice low and husky. He brushes a stray lock of hair from your face, his fingers lingering on your cheek.
You smile softly, your eyes fluttering open to gaze at your desire. You return his morning greeting, your voice contrarily soft in raspiness as you whisper, "Good morning, Wooyoung." Like a mother to her kin, you burrow closer to him, nuzzling your face against his chest as you listen to the soothing rhythm of his heartbeat.
The peaceful morning sunlight streams through the villa's floor-to-ceiling windows, illuminating the lavish interior. The beachfront property boasts a stunning view of the crystal-clear waters and soft, golden sands. A gentle breeze carries the sweet scent of tropical flowers, filling the air with a sense of tranquility.
Wooyoung and you take their time waking up, wrapped in each other's embrace as you enjoy the quiet intimacy. He eventually breaks the silence, "I've been thinking… today could be a good day for us to explore the island together."
You nod in agreement, your arms tightening around Wooyoung's waist. "That sounds perfect," you murmur, sleepiness still evident in your tone. "We can take our time with just the two of us, and make the most of our vacation."
Wooyoung leans in to capture your lips in a soft, gentle kiss, pouring all his affection into it. When you finally break apart, you both are left breathless. "Mhmm, let's start the day properly." He whispers.
"Oh don't pretend you didn't initiate it!" You cross your arms, exaggerating the motion for emphasis.
Wooyoung chuckles softly at your teasing reply. "Guilty as charged," he admits, grinning. "But you know you love it when I'm bad, my orchid." He winks.
You throw a pillow at his head, missing intentionally. “You're so infuriatingly good at being bad, you know?"
Wooyoung's grin widens mischievously. "Well, it's all part of the package, darling. You wouldn't have me any other way, would you?"
You sit up on your elbows and pinch the puffiness in his morning cheeks. “And you're so…annoyingly irresistible."
Wooyoung lets out a playful oof as you pinch his cheeks, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he laughs. "Irresistible, huh? I'll take that as a compliment," He reaches up to gently brush your fingers away, his thumb tracing small circles on your hand.
"You completely ignored the annoying part." You laugh softly, unconsciously tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, your body language unguarded and at ease.
Wooyoung feigns innocence, his expression mockingly shocked. "Me? Annoying? Never! Besides, I thought you liked me just the way I am - annoying quirks and all."
"Well there’s the concepts of time and place," you sigh, leaning back against the pillows, your hands resting on your stomach as you gaze up at Wooyoung, a hint of exasperation in your expression. "Not in all those times and places can you be tolerated."
Wooyoung's eyes sparkle with mirth as he remembers last night's special occasion. "Ah, but that's where you're wrong, boss lady. You didn't just tolerate my annoying quirks last night, you embraced them wholeheartedly." Wootcha!, he exclaims, imitating the sounds of the cracking whip.
As Wooyoung continues to mockingly imitate his annoying habits, you roll your eyes heavenward, seeking divine intervention to tolerate his antics just a little longer. He notices your eye-roll and grins mischievously, "Aha! You can't deny it now!"
🐈⬛🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾
A/N: I just realized, this is my first ever fan-fiction where an ATEEZ member fully role plays in a submissive role…How am I doing so far? I’m so curious 😭 🎀.
PLEASE DO NOT COPY MY ORIGINAL WORKS, reblogs are appreciated and accepted. Stealing and modifying my work or publishing out on other platforms is not.
I have plans of releasing episode three of W.C.P.P very soon but there’s something I’d like to get off my chest.
First off I won’t force blame to no one but myself, but I feel as though my blog lacks to be interactive- besides the hyperactive fan fictions that come with it.
Besides that anyway, it honestly brought a little discouragement when not as many people followed along for episode two of W.C.P.P.
(BUT… I also know it’s better for others to enjoy it through and through when the series is complete.)
And really I’ve always told myself to not care for big numbers, and now I can say that I truly don’t. It only takes one of you to keep me going, and the smallest feedback brings me joy for weeks.
If there is anything that you guys would like to see from here on, or for take more interest toward- just let me know on my “Ask me anything” tab.
🐈⬛~🎀 SUMMARY: The atmosphere between you and Wooyoung changes your dynamic for the worse since that heated Friday night- until things gets exceptionally better.
🐈⬛~🎀 TAGS/WARNINGS: Cursing/Name-Calling, MAJOR Dom-Sub Play, Use of Alcohol, Role Play, Dirty Talk, Slapping, Handjob, Brutal Use of a Whip, Rope Bonadge, Office Intimacy, Oral Sex, Shower Intimacy.
🐈⬛~🎀 A/N: Just...super duper freaky. Proceed at your own risk of becoming a hornball.
🐈⬛🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾
A Mistress is a dominant woman who exercises authority and control over her submissive partner. She may engage in various activities such as bondage, discipline, dominance, submission, sadism, and masochism (BDSM) with her sub. The power exchange can be physical, mental, emotional, or a play in all.
Submission is not always about being doormats or losers. Instead, it's about empowerment. By ceding control to their Mistress, subs can let go of everyday stresses and worries, trusting her to guide them and make decisions for them. It's a deeply intimate and liberating experience.
Dominance is about taking charge, setting boundaries, and pushing submissives out of their comfort zones in safe, consensual ways to help them explore their deepest desires and fears. A good Mistress is caring and attentive and always puts her subs' well-being first, even as she challenges them.
Safe, Sane, and Consensual (SSC) is a key principle in the BDSM community. It means that all activities are agreed upon by all parties involved, with clear boundaries and safeguards to prevent harm.
Anything outside of these parameters is considered unsafe and unacceptable.
…
Ever since then, Wooyoung has been extra attentive, making sure your morning beverages are piping hot and steaming just the way you like them, your files are in order from A to Z without a paper sticking out in sight, and your schedule is always organized and precise in preparation for the weeks ahead.
In your world, you tackle most of the paperwork meant for the office workers in cubicles- and for your own for distraction.
There was too much on your mind this early morning, but you’ve set it aside for one of the greatest business endeavors that only comes every 10,000 lifetimes.
Your company, Better Business Company- hence the name- strives to make businesses better. The investments you distribute come from your own pockets and the companies you carry on your back. But today, you had a chance to strike it rich, because one of the most influential businessmen asked for your participation in the condition you formulated a plan.
Wooyoung, your supposed partner in this, knocks softly on your office door, carrying in a tray with your daily coffee and a Danish. ”I thought you might need an early pick-me-up,” he whispers bashfully, placing the tray carefully onto the edge of your desk.
He steps back and watches you from a safe distance. You immediately take your coffee in hand without acknowledging his presence, sipping heavily on your beverage as if it were a tall glass of cold water.
It was times like this where he just let things be as tried to gauge your mood. He walked like a deer in the wild these days, avoiding stepping on the smallest twig to prevent triggering the coyote's natural predatory instincts.
“Thank you.” You smile toward him briefly, and then you presume to delve into your paperwork-as if last Friday night never happened. As if the new ‘partnership’ you’ve dwelled in, never happened.
Wooyoung notices the brief smile and the attempt to focus back on work, but he can see the fatigue and stress etched on your face. He decides to try a different approach and sits down in the chair across from your desk- leaning back with a deep sigh and folding his arms comfortably. “For our meeting today…I think we should revise before we present.”
You don’t bother to spare him a glance. Instead, you keep stamping, signing, and flipping off papers. “I believe we’ve made those proper revisions days ago. I recall you saying things were pristine.”
His expression hardens slightly to prevent you from seeing the effect you had on him from your stubbornness, but his voice remains calm. “Mrs.Hart. If you wouldn’t mind…I can talk to you easier when your eyes are on me.” He waits until you finally glance up, your eyes meeting his. In contentment, a small grin grows on his face with a minor head tilt of excitement. “If we're going to pull off this deal today, we need to be on the same page.”
You purse your lips as you drop the pen. Your tired eyes flick around the man you’ve been thinking about since he left your apartment. “I thought that’s what we do. We’re the whole book remember? Front cover, and back.”
He unfolds his arms and leans forward as if he were trying to use his cavernous eyes to read the inside of your head. “Well, it doesn’t feel right at the moment. We're also supposed to work as a team, in and out of the boardroom, remember?”
The Coyote was no longer to be frightened. It heard the snapping twigs a dozen times, and it was hoping that the deer would acknowledge them. It was the only creature other than it in the deep in the ghostly woods.
“Look, I’ll just say it. Last Friday night was..” Wooyoung pauses. “Hectic… But, it was good, wasn’t it? We were good?” He asks cautiously, unseemingly bothered by the hairs that fall above his doe eyes.
You shake your head yes and sigh. You reach over your desk and grab the remote to shut your blinds, giving your unlabeled pair a sense of privacy. He watches as they fall slowly past the wall's pink shelves, hanging in the air the white marble floor.
Meanwhile, you were halfway out of your seat, his vision was cleared as you pulled the hair from his face. He turns to you, his mouth begins to agape, a ‘thank you’, and an ‘I can’t believe you’ has his tongue-tied.
You tuck in behind his ear, your eyes can only focus solely on the motion. Soon after you sit back down in your chair, flipping mindlessly back through the finished papers. “We’re gonna be good Wooyoung”, you whisper. “This is good, the meeting will be great.” You breathe out heavily and close your eyes for a moment of peace. “I’m not there yet, but I will be.”
Wooyoung rises from his seat and walks behind the desk, onto your side. He gently twirls your chair around and crouches down in front of you. Your eyes squeeze close, he was so intimate, so caring, and too kind.
“You’re allowed to not be okay all the time, Mrs.Hart. You’re allowed to lean on me.” He looks up at you, his expression serious.
“I don’t want you to do that all the time Wooyoung. You’ll need me to pick up the slack one day.” You open your eyes to your revelation and the next words you are meant to say. “We’re a damn team, and we can’t play solo right now because we’re fearful of our emotions.”
Wooyoung’s expression softens, and he places a hand on your knee. “You’re right, we need to have a plan in place. But for now, let’s just focus on getting through this. You’re my priority right now, and then I’ll face the facts.”
Your eyes soften with trapped tears. You allow yourself to be vulnerable, and then you face the facts.
Your hand trembles in hesitance, caressing his face for a few moments. He raises his hand slowly, and it covers yours in the perfect amount. His eyes carry the sun within them from the window, and before a tear nearly slips you fully pull away, turning back into your chair.
“Okay”… you breathe, "Let's work on how we're gonna wow these motherfuckers."
Wooyoung giggles and nods, he stands up and gives your thigh a few taps, walking over back to his chair in victory. "Welcome back Madam CEO! Alright, we’ll go through the presentation one more time. And, I also have a few ideas that might give it that extra edge we need to impress them.”
His charisma makes you eagerly intrigued as you push in your chair. “I think I can help you with that.”
Wooyoung’s tongue says across his lower lip as he is tickled by your duality in attitude. “Sounds like a plan.” Some find it tiring, but it gives them the thrill to run miles. “And uh Mrs.Hart?”, he adds, his tone sincere.
"Yes, Wooyoung?"
"After this deal is done, we'll take some time off, okay? All of us." He gestures wildly between the two of you. "We'll set ground rules or whatever you need to feel comfortable. We're smart people, and we'll figure it out."
…
During the business meeting, you two were more compatible than what occurred in the last week. Ironically, all you needed was each other. All the plans you came up with were fabricated, and so now you decided to go with the flow. A smile and a familiar face prompted your next sentences, all worries dissipated from existence.
As the meeting progresses, Wooyoung finds himself stealing glances at you, a subtle smile playing at the corners of his mouth. It was the ease of your collaboration, the way your minds work in sync, that fills him with a profound sense of rightness.
A round of applause followed after a concluding message. Then after a spring of hands follow with upraised ideas and positive impressions.
With the meeting adjourned, Wooyoung childishly gallops over to you, stopping himself when he was only a couple of inches apart. "We did it," he says softly, leaning in close so that only you can hear. "And we didn't even need all that extra preparation after all. Sometimes, just trusting ourselves and each other is enough."
In a half-decent hug, with the palm of his hand on your back and your fingertips on his shoulders, you pull him near to lean in his ear and whisper, "Let's figure this thing out and get out of here. Just you and me."
He nods against your hair, his voice a low murmur in your ear. "Well, then there’s that thing remember? Let's grab our things and head out then. I know a little place nearby where we can unwind and talk through everything."
Wooyoung is the first to leave the meeting room, and you wait a minute or two to follow him along in the hallway for the ‘thing’.
"Attention, everyone!”, you suddenly shout. All gathering colleagues in cubicles and smart boards outside of the office murmur what could be pressingly hard considering how the nice meeting went. When you and Wooyoung’s partnership was lost, so was everyone else.
To show your reunion, you walk over to Wooyoung and stand alongside him. “I know we're thrilled about our new business endeavors, you've all done such an outstanding job these past couple of months! Wooyoung and I…have given it a lot of thought, and we thought maybe… we could throw another office party.”
Everyone agrees amongst themselves, causing a slight rise in volume before it comes to a quiet again. “But…I decided to tweak it a notch-“
You look at Wooyoung, who picked up on your cue. “To a week-long vacation!"
The announcement goes over incredibly well, with the office erupting in cheers and applause. Your co-workers are thrilled with the news, and several of them come up to you both afterward to express their gratitude and excitement.
Meanwhile, Wooyoung watches as you walk into a crowd from a distance, his eyes shining with pride and approval. He mouths "Perfect," giving you an approving thumbs up and a warm smile.
As the excitement dies down and people start to disperse, he makes his sways his way over to you with his hands in his pockets. "That was brilliant," he says, slipping an arm casually around your waist. "A week-long vacation? Are you sure?”
You step aside for a bit of distance so it doesn't arise suspicions amongst wandering eyes. "They've been working nonstop every weekday, and they deserve it. Besides, I need to take my time with you, what can I say?"
Wooyoung eyes soften at your words, recognizing the passing of obstacles between you two. "You're right…they've more than earned it. And I can't argue with the idea of having more time with you." He glances around, then leans in without ceasing to stop at a professional distance.
You completely step aside and begin to walk off fast with the cross over of your heel. “Not so fast”, you mutter. You then walk off and head to your office up the hall. You cross your hands behind your back, curling your four fingers, a secret gesture for him to follow.
Wooyoung, with an eagle's eye, grins mischievously, easily playing along.He lingers in his spot for a moment, feigning interest in a nearby plant before casually making his way to your office. He slips inside, closing the door softly behind him.
"What is it you couldn't say out there, Miss?" Upon entering, Wooyoung finds you caressing the awards of your company’s prizes on the back shelf behind your desk.
With a click of your hidden hand, the windows begin to shut down. You turn and make your way to where he stands, tapping your long stiletto pink nails on every surface along the way.
You gesture for him to take a seat in the lounging area with light pink tuxedo sofas, and a reflective glass table in its centerpiece. His eyes never fell from the sharpness of your nails, but he listens accordingly, pulling his tie around to relieve his tightening throat.
"I'll accept your offer.” You push off the wall to stand in front of him, slightly bending to place a palm gently above his beating heart, smirking at the hard palpations. “I want to be your mistress. To use you, and to experience pleasure… I've never felt before."
Wooyoung inhales sharply as your hand rests over his heart, feeling it race beneath your touch. His eyes darken with desire, a low groan escaping his lips. "Madam, uh Mrs. Hart.." He reaches up, gently grasping your wrist. "Are you sure about this?"
You take your free hand and angle his head toward your cunning face by his sharp jaw, tucking in his long stands with your other hand, pressing forward so your lips are by his ear. "Do you have to ask me twice?"
“No”, Wooyoung breathes, turning his head slightly to nuzzle into your palm. "But I need to hear you say it again." His voice is ragged, filled with longing. "Say it again you want to be mine, that you want me to be yours… like that."
"I'm yours…to obey, and you remain mine… to control." Wooyoung's heart skips a beat at the declaration, his entire body trembling with need. You drag your hot pink sharp nails that he adores on his face. His eyes cross adorably as he tracks them along his naturally sharpened jaw. You watch as his blood circulates beneath the surface, and you pepper small, feverish kisses along the area.
He lets out a shuddering sigh, and his eyes flutter closed as he savors the feeling of your nails scratching along his jaw, doubled when you start placing those heated kisses on his burning skin. "Mine… to control. God, Madam…". His hands tighten around your wrist on his chest, and the arm you're using to angle his head.
"Do you like the sound of that, darling?" You look deep into his doe eyes, indenting your nails in his jaw with anticipation.
"I do. So much that it's… intoxicating," Wooyoung whispers, his pupils dilating as he gazes into your eyes. "The thought of you controlling me, it's… please, Madam, touch me… like you did that Friday night. Please…" He trails off, leaning into your touch, his body yearning for more.
A devilish smirk overrides your sultry expression. "Please, please, please…" you mock pathetically, your drag fingers down his veiny neck. "I can't believe you're so desperate for me."
Wooyoung's face flushes with embarrassment, but the desire in his eyes only intensifies. "I can't help it," he admits softly. "You drive me crazy. The way you touch me, the way you talk to me… it's addictive."
You inch toward his lips but pull away teasingly seconds later. "Follow me…" you grab a hold of his tie, pulling him forward. Wooyoung scrambles to the floor and crawls on all fours as he tries to match your pace, the click of your heels and his pattering hands make the loudest noise in the empty space.
Once you’ve made it back to the desk, you pull out your guest chair, twirling it with one hand, and pulling up his loosened tie with the other. "Sit.”
Wooyoung stumbles slightly as you pull him upward and onto the chair with his eyes locked onto yours. He sits down heavily, his breath hitching in his throat as he waits for your next move. "What do you want me to do now, mistress?"
"Just sit there and look pretty baby. I haven't even made up my mind yet." You tap his shoulder as you walk behind him, pulling out your chair from your desk and pushing it forth right in front of Wooyoung. Sitting in it backward, you spread your legs wide and you slide down in it with your pink vest pantsuit.
You bite the tip of your lengthy nails as you watch him squirm, and your teeth spread into a wicked smile. You tap your heels on the floor with an original rhythm. Wooyoung’s throat bobs with every tap, and his eyes are directed to the heel now and again, which stroke a shocking idea.
The sharpness of your stiletto heel reflects the sunshine when you hold it in the air, and when it falls- it lands on Wooyoung’s shin.
He swallows hard, watching as you bite at your nail, the crimson hue of your lips wrapping around it. He squirms in his seat, his breath coming in short pants as the heel of your shoe grinds against his shin. "Aughhh, Mistress, you’re digging in kind of deep. It hurts."
You’re relentless and just gaze upon him in contemplation-ignoring his pleas. You had used your restlessness night for research studies on this new dynamic you’ve both been secretly craving. Let's just say, your search history is not up to par with your business etiquette. "I hear you honeybun, I just decided what I'm going to do with you."
Wooyoung whimpers, trying to shift in his seat to alleviate some of the pain from your heel grinding against his shin. His breath hitches as you lean forward, the heat of your body wafting over him.
"What…what are you going to do, my Mistress?" Wooyoung asks, his voice trembling with a combination of fear and excitement. He shifts in his seat, his hands gripping the arms of the chair tightly. The suspense is killing him, but he knows better than to try and rush you.
“Eyes forward." You abruptly stop your heel grinding which brings him great relief. That was until you got up to walk around behind him again.
Wooyoung quickly complies, keeping his eyes fixed forward as instructed. He can hear your footsteps behind him, the clicking of your heels against the floor is making his heart do backflips. His breath catches in his throat as he feels your presence looming over him, and then your hands come to rest on his shoulders, gripping them firmly.
The next thing he knew was his tie being yanked from the collar of his neck, wrinkling his white button-up in the process. His eyes widen as he feels himself nearly choke. He hears the fabric rustle as you wrap it around your hands, and then has his vision suddenly taken from his senses when all he can see is pitch black.
You comb his neck-length hair to be tucked under the silk material, scratching his tender scalp in the process.
He lets out a low moan as you comb his hair back and tuck it under the makeshift blindfold. His body tenses as he feels your nails scraping gently against his scalp, the sensation both pleasing and unnerving. With his sight deprived, the heightening of his other senses makes his toes curl.
"Are you okay kitty?" You suddenly whispered with a small kitten lick of your own to his ear. Wooyoung mewls at the unexpected warmth of your tongue against his ear, the whisper of your voice sending shivers down his spine. He nods instinctively, his hands balling into fists as he tries to process the overwhelming sensations. "Y-yes.”
Your heels click once again like a ticking clock. Your claws grab a hold of Wooyoung's shoulders, spinning him around in fast circles.
When he feels himself uncontrollably turning into three-sixties, he lets out a frightened yelp- his arms flailing out to try and grab onto something for support. The room is like a maze around him, his disorientation amplified by the blindfold.
Then he hears your heels clicking faster as you rush to stop him. Wooyoung’s breath quickens, and you kiss him to calm his nerves.
“You still with me kitty cat?" Wooyoung gasps against your lips, his breath hitching as the dizziness finally subsides. He clings to you for support, his shaking fingers digging into the soft flesh of your arms. "Y-Yes, mistress. I'm still here," he pants, his voice barely a whisper.
You pull his fingers from your flesh, and reposition those same fingers to be placed on his crotch. "Can you give your mistress a show kitty? Can you show me how desperate you are for me?"
Wooyoung inhales sharply as he feels your hands guiding his own to his crotch. His face flushes with embarrassment and arousal under the blindfold. "Mistress, l…I don't know if I can," he stammers, his fingers trembling against the growing bulge in his pants.
"You don't know, if you can obey me? Is that what you're telling me, baby?"
Wooyoung bites his lip, hesitation clear in his voice. "No, mistress. I mean, l, I want to, but… it's embarrassing." His fingers twitch against his crotch, the warmth of his touch through the fabric both shaming and arousing. "Please, mistress. I… I'm not used to touching myself like this. It's… it's shameful." His voice grows quieter, laced with a mix of humiliation and desire.
"Awe you poor kitty. Shameful, you say?" You descend to your knees, rubbing your claws onto the blinded male's firm thighs. “Answer me this: where was your shame when you asked me to be your mistress? To kiss the ground before me? You proposed your body for me to control like the slut you are…and now you want to mention shame?"
His breath hitches as your claws rake gently against his thighs, his legs parting wider in invitation. His face scrunches up under the blindfold, torn between humiliation and need. "Y-You're right, mistress. I… I have no right to feel shame." I'm yours, completely," he stammers, his voice cracking with emotion. "I surrendered everything to you, mistress. My body, my dignity, my shame."
As he speaks, you begin to undress him, your hands moving slowly and deliberately under his. Once his belt is removed and his tie is unzipped, you pull the band off his boxers away to take in his full package and spit on the head thickly. You watch the bubbly mess cascade down to the base of his shaft, snapping the material back into place causing his cock to bounce against his abdomen. "Show me everything."
The sudden snap of the boxer returning bounces his rigid length and causes him to jerk in his restraints- his balls drawing up tight against his body. "The floor is yours, baby. Prove yourself to me."
Wooyoung takes a deep, shuddering breath, his fingers slowly wrapping around his hard pink flesh. He hesitates for a moment, his face flushed with embarrassment before he begins to slowly stroke himself.
"You're such a good boy kitty”. His head shudders around slowly, he hears your voice in praise all around him. “Surrending yourself to me with control of your submissive mind."
As he strokes himself, Wooyoung's mind falls completely under your control. He becomes a puppet, his thoughts consumed by his obedience to you, and his only desire to please you. His movements grow to become more desperate and frantic as he imagines himself as your perfect, submissive kitty.
You smile with delight, as your deep research played off effectively into reality. ‘How to tame your sub 101; place them in an environment of vulnerability, rules, and trust. Contain them to follow your rules with consensual precedence, and praise them with every obedient action.’
Wooyoung’s breathing grows heavier as he continues to pleasure himself under your watchful gaze. The room is filled with the sound of his desperate pants and the slick sounds of his hand moving on his wet flesh. "Please, mistress… praise me.”
Your research continues: "Praise will become a natural practice if it is positively connoted with reward. Your sub might even desperately ask for it to ensure they are following your command to your standards.'
"You’re doing so well my little kitten. You're so obedient to me my love." Wooyoung's body shudders with relief and pleasure at your praise, his strokes becoming more purposeful and rhythmic. He arches into his touch, craving more of your approval. "Thank you, mistress… I'm trying so hard to be good for you. I want to make you proud."
"You are baby,” you affirm. “I'm so proud of you." You bend over from your desk and raise his shirt to rub onto his abdomen, right above his ministrations. "Can you cum right here for me babe?"
Wooyoung's eyes roll back in his head as your warm hands rub against his stomach, the friction and heat making his orgasm imminent. He nods frantically, his hand moving faster on his cock as he fights to hold back his orgasm until you permit him to release.
You continue to smooth your hand over his belly, specifically on the surrounding areas that tense from his approaching orgasm. Focusing primarily on the bulges in his stomach, you push down heavily to further alleviate the sensations. "Do it, baby. You've been so good. Cum for me."
With a final, desperate cry, Wooyoung's body convulses as he spills over his hand and onto his belly, just as you commanded.
His whole body goes lax, hanging limply in the restraints as he catches his breath, basking in the afterglow of his release and your praise.
To quiet his desperate cries, you kiss him passionately. It was like his brain had gone to mush, you figured the blindfold might've even affected his sense of location, given that you were still in the office. "Quiet lovebug. Those pretty cries are only meant for me to hear, okay?"
He whimpers against your mouth, his body shuddering with aftershocks as he nods frantically, silently promising to keep his noises to himself. He nuzzles into your touch, loving the way you silence him and claim his sounds as your own.
Slowly, you separated your touch from his sweaty skin and removed your mouth from his pouting one. You then reach back to grab his blindfold, allowing him to see the mess he made. "Good boy."
Wooyoung’s eyes flutter open, and he blinks in confusion for a moment before his gaze focuses on the mess on his belly and chest. He looks up at you with wide, adoring eyes, his face flushed with embarrassment and happiness. He beams with pride at being called a "good boy" by you.
A similar expression comes onto your face in effect of his own. You reach forward to comb back the wet strands of his hair into a slick back.
His cock twitches once more from the grace of your nails. You notice immediately, and your eyes shimmer at his release. You scoop it up with your other hand from his abdomen, giving it a taste and fluttering your eyes with satisfaction. You then offer him some using the same finger, waiting for his acceptance. "Don't you wanna know how sweet you taste?"
Wooyoung's eyes widen as he watches you taste him, a shiver of arousal running through his spent body. He eagerly parts his lips, his tongue darting out to lick your offered finger clean.
In awe you inch closer as his mouth takes in your finger whole, mobilizing his hand back and forth as his deep-set eyes entrances you in a spell with his warm mouth, giving you the craziest ideas. You grab him by the strand in the back of his hands and pull him off. After you then walk over to the desk and throw him a pack of wipes. "Clean yourself up, Wooyoung. You made a mess."
His eyes meet yours, filled with a mix of curiosity and lust from your intense stare. He nods obediently, taking the wipes and cleaning himself off thoroughly while you watch.
Your senses come back to you as you hurriedly turn your back and crack open the door to your office in caution of any bystanders. It wasn't your intention to start this so soon. But with Wooyoung being the man he is, you were prompt under temptation.
As Wooyoung finishes cleaning up, he hears the door creak open and feels a cool breeze against his bare skin. He tilts his head, listening intently, and hearing the faint sound of voices outside. He bites his lip, hoping no one has heard his earlier noises.
Wooyoung looks down at his disheveled appearance - shirt rumpled, hair mussed, a faint sheen of sweat on his skin. He quickly redresses himself, fingers fumbling with the buttons of his shirt as he tries to keep his composure.
You turn back to him as you hear his rustling. Wooyoung freezes mid-zip-up as you turn back, his cheeks flushing pink as he realizes how disheveled he must look.
He offers you a shy, slightly nervous smile, unsure of what to say after such an intense and unexpected encounter in your office. His heart races, wondering if this changes anything between you.
The hallway wasn't exactly busy after her exciting announcement of a week-long vacation. But there was always someone who wanted to stay behind. "What should we do?"
Wooyoung swallows hard, his Adam's apple bobbing. "Do? About…?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper. He's not sure if you're asking about how to proceed with the new relationship, or how to make sure no one finds out about what just happened in your office. Either way, he had not a fucking clue.
You walk over to him tirelessly and sigh, straightening up his appearance for yourself. "We'll get to that later, but first, we need a way out of here without looking suspicious.”
Wooyoung nods, understanding your unspoken words. He takes a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart and appear nonchalant. "How about… we just walk out together? Like we were just having a meeting?" He suggests, his voice steadier now.
"You look like you ran a mile baby”, you giggle. “What kind of meeting would that entail?"
He pouts slightly at your teasing remark. "A… passionate one?" he offers, trying to match your teasing tone. He grins mischievously. "We can say we were discussing… the details of the company retreat, and that we decided to pop off some champagne. The one behind your desk over there."
A lightbulb shined over your head from the idea, you glanced over and grabbed the bottle quickly from the fridge. "I don't have a cork for this thing. I got it as a gift a while back when some money-chasing assholes tried to sway me in a meeting. This is good stuff… otherwise it would've been in the trash."
Wooyoung chuckles softly, walking over to you. "Well, it seems like fate that you kept it then. We can use it as our cover story.”
He stands tall looking handsome as ever, like you were the one sitting in the chair. He takes the bottle from your hands and looks down at the floor, tilting his head in deep inspection. "That's it."
You look down on the floor, looking down and stumbling around like a frantic mess. "What is it? What's that?"
He looks up at you, a small smile playing on his lips. He carefully places the champagne bottle on the floor, descending to his knees. Your eyes widen at the moment, and he makes dangerous eye contact with you as he caresses your golden stiletto heel. "Your heel, I can pop open the cork with it."
In shock and confused arousal, you look down upon him and instinctively quirk a brow. "Yeah…good thinking."
Wooyoung grins up at you, his hands gently caressing your ankle as he positions the heel of your shoe over the cork of the champagne bottle. With a swift, practiced motion, he pops the cork, sending it flying across the room. You duck in response, and when calm takes over again, you snap out of your trance and smile at him with a nervous laugh. “Holy shit! You did it!”
Wooyoung laughs softly, getting back up to his feet. He picks up the now open bottle of champagne, and takes a swig straight from it, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "See? Now we've got our alibi."
Even the simplistic action of him taking a swig out of the bottle made him fondly attractive. "Yeah…but who opens champagne without shaking things up a little?" You then grab the bottle out of his grasp and do the action of shaking things up. You pour the bubbling liquid on his chest and yours the same. A bit sprinkles on the floor for the added effect of "the mess" you've made.
As the cold, fizzy liquid hits his skin he inhales sharply. His soaking shirt gave an appealing view of his erect nipples and muscles. He looks at you, eyes wide with surprise, but laughter erupts suddenly in his throat. "Well, now we've really got to sell this."
You nod, drinking the remaining bits, then jerk your head up to indicate for Wooyoung to tilt his backward. You provide him a nice pour as your hand supports his jaw. "We just stole on a major renovation of our business. We can do anything."
Wooyoung swallows the remnants deliciously. Some of it spills down the sides of his face, onto his neck, and down his chest, mingling with the earlier pours. He swallows convulsively, his Adam's apple bobbing. "Let's get the hell out of here."
The two of you giggle out of the room as if you were on your way to a honeymoon getaway. But honestly, that's what it felt like.
Wooyoung leads the way out of the office, champagne dripping from his clothes and pooling on the floor behind you. As you both reach the elevator, he presses the button and turns to you, a sly grin spreading across his face.
Suddenly, the doors open once again, and Jeong Yunho, your second-longest colleague after Mark, follows in. "Mrs. Hart and Mr. Jung! It looks like you two had some early celebrations amongst yourselves."
Wooyoung grin widens, and he drapes an arm casually around your shoulders.
"You could say that. We just sealed the deal on the new renovation project. A job well done deserves a little…celebration, don't you think?"
Wooyoung elbow budges into your side. You begin to curse him but the language in his eyes begs you to follow along. "Yeah Mr.Jeong, how about you get a taste! You work so hard, and it wouldn't hurt for you to let loose. You hadn't shown up at the office party last term!"
Wooyoung nods approvingly, he looks at the subordinate with a mischievous glint in his eye. "Well, since you put it that way…", Mr.Jeong trails off. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small gray flask from his cross body. "I always keep a little something extra for special occasions."
The both of you laugh hard in surprise. "Did you prepare that beforehand?”, you yelp. "That's so out of character for you!"
Wooyoung winks at you conspiratorially. "A good businessman always comes prepared. You never know when you might need to grease the wheels of negotiation… or in this case, loosen up a hardworking subordinate." Mr.Jeong raises his flask in the air saluting a cheers toward Wooyoung before swallowing a bit of his own.
The elevator dings to the main lobby, and you all step off into the cooling fresh air. "Well, I hope to see you at the next party then, and bring that fun energy with you too okay?!"
Mr.Jeong takes another swig from the flask, coughs slightly, and nods enthusiastically. "Definitely, Mrs.Hart- and Mr. Jung, thanks for the, uh, motivation!" Wooyoung claps him on the back and waves goodbye as he scurries off.
“Anytime, just don’t start your vacation behind bars man. Enjoy!” The two of you snicker as you watch him hurriedly place the flask back into his bag. Once the coast is clear, you scurry towards your cars as quickly as you could be.
"I guess that wasn't so bad”, you mutter with a shrug. Wooyoung holds his passenger door open for you, his eyes twinkling with mischief and a hint of something deeper. "Not bad at all”, he confirms. “I'd say that was a rather… stimulating start to our getaway."
You turn to him outside and purse your lips in disbelief, playfully smacking him in his wet chest. "That's not what I meant at all!”
Wooyoung catches your wrist, his fingers wrapping around it gently. He pulls you closer, his voice dropping to a low, sultry tone. "Oh, I know. But it's what I meant…
And besides, you're the one who poured champagne all over us."
You yank your wrist into your lap, and he closes the door swiftly before settling into his seat. You squeeze into his cheek when he gets adjusted with your thumb giving him a little prick. "Well, it got us through, no?"
Wooyoung slyly turns his head before you can catch on, he captures your thumb between his teeth, gently biting down before releasing it. "Mmm, it certainly did. But now, I think it's time for some…deep cleaning."
…
Wooyoung guides you into the luxurious bathroom of his private villa by the beach, the soft glow of recessed lighting through the windows casts a warm, inviting ambiance in the evening.
He turns on the shower, and steam begins to fill the room. In no time flat, he starts to unbutton your vest top, his fingers brushing against your skin gently. "Arms up."
You allow him to make the calls, and your boobs fall into their natural place. You'd been in pain from the bra wire in the car while saying, "Something’s poking me". Wooyoung wouldn't let you strip it off, with the other hand on the wheel he held over your boobs shouting, "Hey, I'm supposed to be undressing you!”
Wooyoung smiles widely, his eyes gleaming with mischief as he takes off his suit jacket and tosses it aside. “I think I need a little assistance with my tie." He looks up at you expectantly, his hands reaching for the knot.
There wasn't a problem at all. The only problem was that you ended that segment too quickly before the private champagne party. The specific moment where you were yanking the same tie clean off his neck and robbing him blind. "You want it the rough way baby?", you tease.
Woo's grin widens, and he nods eagerly.
"You know what I want."
You quickly jerk his neck causing him to step a few feet forward. He grabs your hips for stability in precaution, but it fascinated him that you could do it quicker than any working man he knew.
"You asked for it kitty."
Wooyoung's eyes sparkle with excitement as he watches you effortlessly rip his tie off. He lets out a small gasp as he stumbles forward, his hands gripping your hips tightly to keep himself steady. "Me-ow", he says seductively.
The power to not be tantalized by his sassiness was something to adjust to. You hurriedly pop open the buttons to his shirt with triple speed, throwing it over his shoulders. His eyes followed behind it until he felt a tug being worked on his lower half.
What you found strip by strip was more and more veiny. You undress him completely, working on taking off your lengthy pants along with your underwear. "Shower, now."
Wooyoung quickly leads you both into the spacious, glass-enclosed shower. The warm water cascades over your body as he pulls you close, his hands roaming over your curves appreciatively. "You're absolutely stunning," he murmurs, his lips brushing against your ear.
"Hadn't you taken a look in that mirror?" You seductively imply, also hinting at his wonderfully stunning body. He did not have the body of a businessman man with a poached belly and loose muscle. He was desirably for you, the exact opposite. You reach up to gently scratch his back with your nails, your ghost of breath of the shell of his ears.
Wooyoung mewls softly in response, his arms tightening around you possessively. "I wasn't talking about me," he says huskily as he turns into your neck, twisting his tongue in long circles down your body.
"Woo…” you try to warn, but the feeling is all too good for unnecessary punishment. "What are you doing baby?", you mutter softly under the calming waters- watching as his body descends along with his tongue.
Wooyoung ignores your warning, his mouth continuing its descent until he's kneeling at your feet. He presses open-mouthed kisses against your inner thighs, his hands spreading your legs further apart. "I'm just cleaning you like a good kitty my mistress," he says, his voice muffled against your skin.
Your hands immediately enthrall the slippery wet strands of Wooyoung’s hair. The density of the water gave you a firmer grip as an advantage. "You'll do just that and only that kitty. You're already crossing the line by making decisions.”
Wooyoung purrs mischievously against your flesh, his hands gripping into your bottom to keep you in place. His tongue slowly glides up your center, parting your folds gently. "As you wish, mistress. Just cleaning." His mouth immediately finds your inner center, and he begins to lavish attention on you with his tongue, just as he promised.
A moan shakes out from your bones as you hike your leg on his shoulder like a pedestal. This way you figured out he wanted to be a brat, you’ll have to remind him who's the decision-maker later on.
Wooyoung hums appreciatively as you hike your leg over his shoulder, giving him better access. He doubles his efforts, his tongue delving deeper as he savors your taste. One hand slides around to tease your entrance, a single finger circling the rim teasingly.
Your eyes furrow in pleasure. There was no kidding when Wooyoung said the words, "Use all of me for your pleasure in ways you've never experienced before.’ With no insertions, he already had your body and mind convulsing “Kitty.."
Wooyoung looks up at you, his eyes gleaming with pride and satisfaction as he watches you shake and tremble. Woo murmurs against your sensitive flesh, his finger finally pressing inside as he continues to lap at your clit. He curls his finger, rubbing against that magical spot inside as he sucks hard on your clit, his protruding nose pressing perfectly against your folds.
You catch a glimpse of his smile through your hooded lids that Wooyoung thought were completely closed. To his surprise, you jerk him forward with your hovered leg on his shoulder. "Eat up you little brat, you don't get to tease."
Wooyoung is pulled forward, his face buried between your legs as he's forced to devour you. He gags as your legs clamp around his head, his nose buried in your pussy. He sucks and laps at your folds desperately, trying to breathe through his mouth as he eats you out with reckless abandon.
Your grip on his head grows firmer as your pointy nails are nearly embedded in his scalp. You swivel his head around despite his struggles for a deeper feel. "Good fucking kitty”, you moan.
Wooyoung mewls pitifully against you as you force his head to swivel, his tongue lapping desperately wherever you direct him. His claws dig into your bottom, leaving small half-moon indentations in your flesh as he tries to hang on.
With little time, you grow wary of Wooyoung’s upkeep of lapping his tongue. You tried to make him slip up and test him as punishment, but you were failing your test as you jerked forward and grew weaker from the tension in your abdomen.
Wooyoung feels your body tensing, your grip on his hair tightening painfully. He redoubles his efforts, his tongue thrusting in and out of you as his finger continues to work its magic. He nips gently at your swollen folds, soothing the slight sting with a long, slow lick.
As if it were a hit-and-run, you jerk forward completely with a loud gasp from his unanticipated capabilities. That strong jaw wasn't just good for smart talk.
Wooyoung feels your body shudder and convulse around his invading tongue and finger. He moans in triumph against you, the vibrations only intensifying your pleasure. He continues to lap and suckle gently as you ride out your high, coaxing out every last drop of your release.
You breathe deeply and tilt your head back from the intense orgasm. As you tilt your head in its previous place, you make eye contact with the man below and yank him upward with the hand you never let leave his scalp.
Wooyoung staggers back, his face glistening with your essence and his long wet strands as he gasps for breath. "You taste even better than I imagined mistress."
You huff with a scowl and grip his jaw, releasing it seconds after to smack him for pretending not to have been so disorderly. "And now you'll get a taste of what I have for you for being a pest."
Wooyoung pouts dramatically, rubbing his reddened cheek. "But… I only wanted to make you feel good…" He trails off, his eyes darting in between yours as he effectively evaporates the madness. He swallows hard, his voice barely a whisper. "Please…"
"Stop using that mouth of yours, and listen to me." You coldly demand.
Wooyoung shifts his feet, his heart racing as he stands before you. He keeps his gaze lowered in guilt of his previous transgression. He stands at attention, waiting for his punishment to be inflicted.
"Why should you show shame now from how far you've come?" You snap, bearing daggers in his face. "Eyes on me."
Wooyoung’s eyes slowly lift to meet yours, a flicker of defiance sparking in their depths before he remembers his place.
"I.."
Another slap sounds through the space. As Wooyoung's head turns sideways, but you bring it forward again. “I knew what you did, I didn't dumb down from an orgasm, not like how will kitty."
Wooyoung’s head snaps back from the slap, his eyes widening in arousal and pain. He struggles to keep his gaze locked on yours, but it's clear he's fighting a losing battle. His eyes start to water as he tries to maintain eye contact, his face burning with shame.
"Clean yourself quickly, and go out to lie on the bed, 'll be out not long after, and DONT put any clothes on whatsoever, understood?"
Woo nods jerkily, his voice mute to any sound. He turns around, wiping his face with his wrinkled fingers washing his body as you watch behind him.
Not long after Wooyoung walks out with only a towel around his waist.
…
You take your shower and come out lotioned up with lingerie and bondage you retrieved from the adult shop hidden in your purse. It was a leather neon pink number paired with a waist belt, and (‘X’) marks the spot boob tape. What caught Wooyoung’s attention most was the matching color leather whip in your hold, along with a thick twist of rope.
“What's your safe word?" You ask quizzically as he lies as directed upon the bed, the leather tapping with rhythm on your bare hand while the rope dangles on your wrist.
Wooyoung swallows hard, his voice trembling slightly as he replies, "M-my safe word is… orchid, mistress." He looks at the leather, his eyes wide with a mix of fear and anticipation. "Is that for me?"
"Orchid?" you inquire, "and when did you come up with that?" You stop at the edge of the bed and place your whip purposely near him, knowing it would get him riled up.
Wooyoung’s face flushes, and he looks away, fidgeting with the towel around his waist. "I… I came up with it a few days ago, mistress. I was thinking about it a lot, and it reminded me of you and… parts of you."
"Awe…how thoughtful!" You falsely stated in surprise. You pull your hands down and smooth your pink claws over the fiery pink hot lingerie. "Can you guess my favorite color baby?"
"Pink…" Wooyoung answers confidently, his eyes glued to your lingerie. His tongue darts out to wet his lips as he takes in your appearance, his body tensing as he tries to rein in his growing arousal.
"Good! And one of the colors of an orchid is…" You trail off waiting for his pending answer.
Wooyoung's eyes widen as realization dawns on him. "Pink…" he breathes out, his voice filled with awe and a hint of nervousness. "The color of an orchid is pink, mistress. Just like your favorite color…"
You smile charmingly at his attention to detail, climbing onto the bed near his lean body. You unfold the towel, opening the layers on his right and left sides. With a pleased expression, your eyes rein over him for the third time in a day. "SSC… do you know what that means?"
Wooyoung inhales sharply as your body presses against his, the cool fabric of your lingerie a stark contrast to his heated skin. He nods, his voice strained. "Yes, mistress… SSC means Safe, Sane, and Consensual. It's a key principle in… in this kind of play."
You nod in approval. "Would you say it feels safe, sane, and consensual if we proceed with this, Kitty cat?" You uphold the whip, presenting it along his skin to show your further intentions.
Wooyoung's eyes widen as he sees the rope, his breath catching in his throat. He looks up at you, his gaze flickering between your face and the whip as he makes the connection. After a moment, he nods slowly, his voice steady despite the tremor of excitement running through him. "I trust you, mistress."
With his approval, you proceeded to bond his hands in a killer knot as you pushed them over his head. With the whip in hand, you strike it in the air as a test, and it proves functional as it cracks above the crashing waves outdoors. "Baby, baby, baby. Look at where a potty mouth ended up placing you. Tell me, was it worth it?"
He looks up at you, his eyes filled with a mix of trepidation and anticipation as you stalk over him. "That wasn't rhetorical, darling. I need you to give me an answer."
Wooyoung swallows hard, his heart pounding in his chest. He looks up at you, his voice shaking slightly as he responds. "Yes, mistress… it was worth it. Every curse, every argument, every moment of defiance was worth it just to end up here, tied on this bed, and at your mercy."
"Huh." You scoff, both aroused and annoyed by his pride in disobedience. "How. Fucking. Pathetic." You throw the whip over his abdomen, causing a crackle to echo through the space.
Wooyoung hisses in a sharp breath as the whip cracks against his skin, his abs contracting from the sudden impact. He bites his lower lip to muffle a moan, his hips bucking slightly as the pain morphs into pleasure.
You go back to tracing over his now reddened skin, never taking your eyes off your prey as if it was always your destiny. "Another question: Have you ever thought about this very moment before the night we kissed, in a meeting, or the night you took me home drunk…in my office?"
Wooyoung’s breathing grows heavier as even the lightest traces on his skin burn so good. He nods jerkily, his eyes fluttering closed for a moment before snapping back open to maintain eye contact with you. "Yes, mistress… I've thought about it. A lot." He hesitates before continuing. "…Especially in your office. The power dynamic, the way you commanded me, the way you looked in your suits… it used to fuel many of my… fantasies." He trails off, blushing deeply at the admission.
You bite your lips just thinking about those moments over the past few months, just wishing you could've known then to feel this thrill sooner. "So let me ask you this. How long have you transpired in this fantasy before you met me?"
Wooyoung traces down your body above him. His eyes flick down to your hips where your fingers toy absently with the end of the whip. He lets out a slow breath. "Years, mistress. I've had these tendencies for years. But the fantasies of you… were the first to come to life."
Wooyoung pauses, his eyes locked onto yours. "Since the first time I saw you across the boardroom table”, he grins at the memory in thought, “I left that meeting with a new… obsession."
It’s not something you mention with words, but to be his first to control him like this turned you on. You lower yourself to straddle over his crotch, trailing the whip over his nipples to heighten his arousal. "I never knew until you walked into my office that I desired such a man who could simply just be obedient. But then you were funny, and you livened up the room so well that made the office breathable. I smiled for the first time without presentation.”
Wooyoung feels antsy with your heat over his reaction, the whip strings trace over his nipples, and your admiration for his character. His body arches into your gentle caress and he spills out a shivering moan. "Thank you, mistress…"
Just in the moment when his eyes closed momentarily in bliss, your face contorted into a wicked grin throwing the whip up high to land onto Wooyoung’s relaxed chest. "I want you, and now you're making me weak. Just like you…"
Wooyoung gasps sharply as the whip snaps against his chest, his body jerking slightly at the sudden impact. His eyes, which had grown soft with emotion, snap back into focus, dilating with renewed arousal and submission. "Mistress…" he breathes, voice husky. "I never meant to make you weak."
"And you never could darling. So the stunt you pulled off in the shower? This will be the result of your disobedience, each, and every time." Your smiles wavers in and out of seriousness. In honesty, you’re truly happy to experience this with him, and the trust of power he gave to you to use at your will.
Wooyoung shivers at your words, his body tensing in anticipation. "Yes, mistress," he says, his voice barely above a whisper. "I understand."
You whip him once more, staggering him by surprise. "Again."
He grunts at the sudden impact, his back arching off the bed. "I understand.” He grits his teeth, bracing himself for the next strike, his arms tightening around the bedposts as his whole body tenses in anticipation.
You whip him once more, heartless and unnerving. "Again!"
Woo's cry turns into a broken, guttural moan as the whip bites into his flesh once more. His body convulses, pulling taut against the restraints, his breathing erratic and shallow. Tears of pain and overwhelm prick at the corners of his eyes as he struggles to keep his voice steady. "I understand, mistress!"
At last, you’re satisfied, and the whip is thrown to the far side of the room. You lift yourself from the meat of his thighs, reaching under the mattress for the body oil you hid when you came in on arrival. "I don't recall you putting any lotion on when you got out of the shower. But you were just following orders, huh pretty boy?"
Wooyoung’s head lolls to the side, his chest heaving as he tries to regain his breath. "Y-yes, mistress… I-I was only following orders…"He trails off, his voice hitching as you settle onto his thighs and begin to drizzle cool oil onto his heated skin.
Your hand smooths over his new wound and other plain parts of his bare body in a deep tissue massage. "That's okay baby, you’re managing well kitty.”
Wooyoung moans softly as your hands begin to work into his muscles, the oil-slicked touch soothing the hurt and
heightening his sensitivity. "Th-thank you, mistress…" His head rolls back, eyes fluttering closed as he revels in the sensation of your touch.
You cease your touch when he begins to relax, booping his nose with a smidge of oil. "You're getting comfortable…."
His eyes snap open at the sudden touch to his nose, a startled "Mistress!" escaping his lips. He tenses, suddenly hyper-aware again, his body coiled with tension and need. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to…"
"Tututututututu." You click your tongue in disapproval, placing an oil-lubed finger on his lips. "Uh uh." You encircle his lips with the oil and circle back to the starting place in the middle. "Words can't save you now."
He whines softly around it, trying to speak but unable to with his mouth occupied. He struggles against his restraints, his body thrashing lightly as he realizes he's in for something else. "Mistress, please…", he mutters.
"No thank you." One of your hands grips the base of his bare cock, while the other tortuously rubs the cockhead. Wooyoung's back arches, his hips bucking against the restraints as your hands begin their tormenting dance.
Tears well up in his eyes as he becomes overwrought with sensation. His shiny lips smooth together from the outburst."M-Mistress… "Mmmph!" Your eyes close as you intake his moans- continuing your crazy work regardless of his cries.
The weakening man’s moans rise in pitch and volume as you continue your relentless stimulation. His cock throbs and twitches in your grip, the oil allowing your hands to glide slickly along his shaft.
"Mmmnnngggg!"
Wooyoung’s pleas turn into a wordless, desperate whine as your touch becomes more insistent. Your hands stop they play when you ride out your clothed pussy on his pulsing red cock. His body tenses, his muscles standing out in sharp relief as he fights against the restraints. The male gives up, he realizes words can never get him far when he wants his way.
You sigh in contentment, feeling in your breasts as you ride him crazily with no fixed pace. "Muuuuch better baby… come for me"
His body tenses and quivers as the clogged oil in his pores mixes in his release, causing it to glisten beautifully on your body, his body, and the sheets under the soft lighting. Wooyoung back bows off the bed, his body convulsing as he lets out a muffled, wordless cry of release.
You slow your ride to adore the mess under you, licking the white ropes of cum that fell perfectly on your breast. You moan and tilt your head back as your orgasm approaches, chuckling proudly at your accomplishments.
…
Wooyoung's arms fall limply to his sides as the restraints are loosened, His body still trembling with residual pleasure. He winces slightly as the circulation returns to his wrists, and your soothing touch eases the discomfort.
To comfort him further, you pull him near to your breasts to cuddle him as a little spoon. You and Wooyoung both were spent in the characters that you play so well. “Are you feeling okay?", you worriedly question.
He cuddles into your embrace, his body melting against yours as he purrs softly. "Yes, Mistress… I'm okay. "But, that was-
You kissed his shoulder and looked down sympathetically in your limited understanding. "Quite intense…l know."
"Intense doesn't even begin to cover it," Wooyoung murmurs, his eyes drifting shut as he snuggles closer to you. "It was perfect. Just how I needed it." He sighs contentedly, feeling safe and cherished in his mistress's arms.
In adornment, you pepper him with kisses. You pull the towel from under him and pat off the excess oil. "You did so well baby. Thank you for pulling through."
"For you, Mistress… anything." He brings a hand to cup your cheeks, smiling at you with a mole that is marked beautifully on his lower lip. "I'm… I'm so tired now…" His voice trails off sleepily, his hand falling back to his side.
You giggle and throw the rope aside for the man to properly lie his sleepy head. "I'm going to clean us up, I'll be right back."
Wooyoung mumbles something unintelligible in response, already halfway asleep as you shift up from behind him.
After cleaning yourself as best you could, too lazy to strip from the intimate material. You come back out to thoroughly cleanse the man before you as you apply a lukewarm rag against his ab ridden core. You even went to the lengths to apply a cooling cream and bandage to his whippings. Although you did all the work, Wooyoung was the one who endured it all even after the play.
Wooyoung remains oblivious to the gentle care you’re providing, his half-asleep state rendering him only softly whimpering from cooling cream and bandages being applied to his battered torso. He simply lies there, his chest rising and falling steadily as he sleeps, his face peaceful despite the marks and bruises adorning his skin.
You set aside the products to be put up when morning comes. Only he mattered now to hold all of your attention.
…
The first rays of sunlight peek through the curtains, gently rousing Wooyoung from his deep slumber. He blinks slowly, a soft groan escaping his lips as he stretches, his muscles protesting slightly from last night's intense activities.
You stir beside him, your arms tightening instinctively around his waist. With a joyous grin, he turns in the embrace- his eyes still heavy with sleep but filled with warmth and adoration.
"Good morning, my orchid," he murmurs, his voice low and husky. He brushes a stray lock of hair from your face, his fingers lingering on your cheek.
You smile softly, your eyes fluttering open to gaze at your desire. You return his morning greeting, your voice contrarily soft in raspiness as you whisper, "Good morning, Wooyoung." Like a mother to her kin, you burrow closer to him, nuzzling your face against his chest as you listen to the soothing rhythm of his heartbeat.
The peaceful morning sunlight streams through the villa's floor-to-ceiling windows, illuminating the lavish interior. The beachfront property boasts a stunning view of the crystal-clear waters and soft, golden sands. A gentle breeze carries the sweet scent of tropical flowers, filling the air with a sense of tranquility.
Wooyoung and you take their time waking up, wrapped in each other's embrace as you enjoy the quiet intimacy. He eventually breaks the silence, "I've been thinking… today could be a good day for us to explore the island together."
You nod in agreement, your arms tightening around Wooyoung's waist. "That sounds perfect," you murmur, sleepiness still evident in your tone. "We can take our time with just the two of us, and make the most of our vacation."
Wooyoung leans in to capture your lips in a soft, gentle kiss, pouring all his affection into it. When you finally break apart, you both are left breathless. "Mhmm, let's start the day properly." He whispers.
"Oh don't pretend you didn't initiate it!" You cross your arms, exaggerating the motion for emphasis.
Wooyoung chuckles softly at your teasing reply. "Guilty as charged," he admits, grinning. "But you know you love it when I'm bad, my orchid." He winks.
You throw a pillow at his head, missing intentionally. “You're so infuriatingly good at being bad, you know?"
Wooyoung's grin widens mischievously. "Well, it's all part of the package, darling. You wouldn't have me any other way, would you?"
You sit up on your elbows and pinch the puffiness in his morning cheeks. “And you're so…annoyingly irresistible."
Wooyoung lets out a playful oof as you pinch his cheeks, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he laughs. "Irresistible, huh? I'll take that as a compliment," He reaches up to gently brush your fingers away, his thumb tracing small circles on your hand.
"You completely ignored the annoying part." You laugh softly, unconsciously tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, your body language unguarded and at ease.
Wooyoung feigns innocence, his expression mockingly shocked. "Me? Annoying? Never! Besides, I thought you liked me just the way I am - annoying quirks and all."
"Well there’s the concepts of time and place," you sigh, leaning back against the pillows, your hands resting on your stomach as you gaze up at Wooyoung, a hint of exasperation in your expression. "Not in all those times and places can you be tolerated."
Wooyoung's eyes sparkle with mirth as he remembers last night's special occasion. "Ah, but that's where you're wrong, boss lady. You didn't just tolerate my annoying quirks last night, you embraced them wholeheartedly." Wootcha!, he exclaims, imitating the sounds of the cracking whip.
As Wooyoung continues to mockingly imitate his annoying habits, you roll your eyes heavenward, seeking divine intervention to tolerate his antics just a little longer. He notices your eye-roll and grins mischievously, "Aha! You can't deny it now!"
🐈⬛🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾
EPISODE 3
A/N: I just realized, this is my first ever fan-fiction where an ATEEZ member fully role plays in a submissive role…How am I doing so far? I’m so curious 😭 🎀.
PLEASE DO NOT COPY MY ORIGINAL WORKS, reblogs are appreciated and accepted. Stealing and modifying my work or publishing out on other platforms is not.
Im so excited that W.C.P.P Episode 1 is doing so well!
This Friday, episode 2 will be released, and let’s just say we get a lot more into the nitty gritty aspect of the story I’m sure you’re yearning for.
🐈⬛🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾
Here’s some inside on Episode 2 that may be beneficial to you while reading:
A Mistress is a dominant woman who exercises authority and control over her submissive partner. She may engage in various activities such as bondage, discipline, dominance, submission, sadism, and masochism (BDSM) with her sub. The power exchange can be physical, mental, emotional, or a play in all.
Submission, is not always about being doormats or losers. Instead, it's about empowerment. By ceding control to their Mistress, subs can let go of everyday stresses and worries, trusting her to guide them and make decisions for them. It's a deeply intimate and liberating experience.
Dominance is about taking charge, setting boundaries, and pushing submissives out of their comfort zones in safe, consensual ways to help them explore their deepest desires and fears. A good Mistress is caring, attentive, and always puts her sub's well-being first, even as she challenges them.
Safe, Sane, and Consensual (SSC) is a key principle in the BDSM community. It means that all activities are agreed upon by all parties involved, with clear boundaries and safeguards to prevent harm.
Anything outside of these parameters is considered unsafe and unacceptable.
🐈⬛~🎀 SUMMARY: After seven long years, you’ve fired your assistant because of your differences. Your new hire, Wooyoung Jung wants nothing but the same as you do, and a lot more than you’d think.
🐈⬛~🎀 TAGS/WARNINGS: Cursing/Name-Calling, Mentions of Sex, Mention of Dom-Sub Play.
🐈⬛~🎀 A/N: In the beginning, it’s important to pay attention to detail. You never know who/what may come later on. (ALSO WOOYOUNG CUTTING HIS HAIR THE DAY I RELEASED THIS, IM SICK.)
🐈⬛🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾 🐾
The sleek, modern office buzzed with activity as creative teams huddled around the latest MacBooks and smartboards.
Your intensifying aura strides throughout the space with piercing stiletto heels that click authoritatively on the polished marble floor.
Today starts with the sudden approach to Mark Lee’s desk, your assistant of seven years. He sat hunched over his computer, oblivious to your approach. You make yourself known as you obnoxiously clear your throat, springing him to spin around rapidly in his chair.
"Mark, a word in my office. Now." Your tone left no room for argument, demanding that the man should follow for his own good.
Your office decor reflects your fierce femininity- pretty and in pink, your favorite color. You held the door open for both of you to enter. As your back collides with the curtain-covered glass door inside, your eyes dart toward the side of Mark's head. The silence becomes entrapped with a soft click. Then you turn to cower him in once more, ensuring that your expression is stern.
“How do you think the meeting went earlier today?" Your voice was measured, betraying none of the frustration you’d felt during the presentation.
Mark shifted uncomfortably in his seat, avoiding your wandering gaze. "Um, I think it went alright."
A heated breath shrivels even the hairs in your nostrils, your eyes narrow slightly as you continue to press him. "Mark…honestly, as my assistant of seven years, I notice when my decisions may worry you. So, I'll ask you again,” you warn. “How do you think the meeting went earlier today?"
Mark sighed, his shoulders sagging as he finally met your gaze. "Look, Mrs. Hart, I just think...I think you should have signed that deal with GreenTech. The numbers were solid, and it would've given us a leg up on our competitors." Mark's tone bordered on insolence, his body language relaxed as if he thought he was merely offering a differing opinion.
“‘Quality over quantity’…it’s a phrase that is constantly undermined in the business world.” You chuckle lowly with an underlying menacing tone, determining that your footsteps are purposeful as you travel behind your wide office desk. “But for your sake Mr.Lee…let’s say we did sign that deal.” Mark's eyebrows raise with an attentive quirk, hoping to hear your change of heart.
“Skyrocketed to the top with our profits…”, you continue, “We’d probably make shit product too, but hey!- maybe with that money we’ll make GreenTech cover our tracks.” That’s not exactly what he hoped for, and yet he remains seated without choice but to listen. “Where’s the competition in that Mark?”
Mark, with his face flushed, leans forward, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial tone. "Mrs.Hart, you have to think about the offer without playing the moral high ground here. Business is about making profit, not about making friends, or producing some perfect, ethical product." He paused, his expression turning cunning.
Your eyes flashed with annoyance at Mark's presumptuousness. You lean in closer, and for his sake, you turn your voice low with the same level of intensity. "How do you think money is made in business, Mark? By cutting corners, sacrificing quality, leaving a trail of subpar products and obviously disgruntled customers in our wake?"
“That’s not the way I see it madam“, Mark grumbles. “There will always be the next best thing. That’s why there’s competition! Just think about it! With GreenTech in our market, we will always be the best.”
Like a thick block of ice, your face hardened to its core, and your expression remains cold. "It’s a shame that you could be so wrong, Mark. Competition is about offering a superior product, not buying our way to the top,” you say plainly. “I expected more from you…my assistant of seven years."
Mark's jaw tensed as the words he’s always wanted to say battle on his tongue. "Oh please, you've always been short-sighted Mrs.Hart. With the kind of money GreenTech is offering, we could bury our competitors! We'd set the standard, not just try to keep up with it!”
That was it, the last re‘Mark he could make, and then came dangerous consequences.
“Short-sighted?! Mark…” You address coldly, "I'm disappointed. You've bought into the very thing I've always tried to stand against." You walk over toward your high ceiling windows, a view of all surrounding industrial architecture.
“Perhaps you’re short-sighted one. Quite frankly…I couldn’t envision a capitalist in my company's success. I'll be revising your position within the company. Mark Lee…”, you say with a slight head turn, “you are dismissed.”
Mark's face contorted with anger and betrayal as your malicious words began to sink in. "You seriously can’t be considering firing me over this," he spat, his voice trembling with rage. "After everything I've done for this company, you're just going to toss me aside because I have a differing opinion?"
You turn your attention back to the distant outside view, seeing it as pointless to give him the time of day. “Business comes with compromise. Your “opinion” derives from GreenTech beliefs, and based upon this conversation, you’ve tossed yourself onto their side.”
Mark burst up, screeching his sitting chair across the polished flooring. "I'm not some change in GreenTech's pocket. I just believe in seizing opportunities when we see them! You're the one who's being stubborn and stuck in your ways, Mrs.Hart!”
With his challenging words, you had to look him in the eye. To see him cower. For him to fully feel you overpower. “There it is. You, and everyone in this company, that’s your real and raw opinion about me.” You turn slightly so he can see your pleased expression and provide him a round of applause, because speaking up surely had been a feat he’s been wanting to conquer for quite some time.
"You're unyielding, Mrs.Hart, and that's what's going to be your downfall. You can't keep dismissing ideas just because they don't align with your perfect little moral compass," Mark hissed, his face reddened with boiling anger.
“Dismissed.”, you quip with the click of your tongue. You remain unmoved, calmness frighteningly rooting from where you stand. “Allow your replacement to enter please.”
Mark ferocious gaze shuffles between you and what awaits behind the door. He storms to unlock it, his hand flinging dramatically backward as he opens the door to meet his maker.
The new guy's balled fist stalls in the air, his eyes darting between you who is dangerously content, and the infuriated Mark. He hesitates to enter, uncertainty written in bold all over his face. "I, uh, I assume I'm not interrupting anything important?" he asks cautiously.
“He’s been dismissed”, you carelessly announce. “You’ll take his place for the time being.”
You smile graciously, pleased with the divine timing. Wooyoung Jung was the perfect candidate. Charming with a perfect resume, and similar to you, as you do say so fabulously yourself, looks that could kill.
Mr Jung’s eyes widen slightly, but he quickly composes himself. "Oh, is that really it? I must admit, I didn't expect to be stepping into this role so soon," he says, walking further into the room. He casts one last glance at Mark before focusing on the person he came to impress.
Next thing you knew the door slams and Mark disappears, making your eyes squeeze shut, and Mr.Jung to tsk. You blink open your eyes upon hearing the noise of disapproval he made, making you all the more intrigued to turn around and meet such a character.
With finely cut long black hair, a small, yet intimidating face, and a respectful demeanor- you were considering him platonically attractive at the least. Perhaps it wouldn’t piss you off to see his face in office every weekday.
“I admire the decoration in your office madam. Pink adds a new touch to all things business.” He grins to you with glee with a lack of oppression on his nerves.
“Why…thank you.”, you mumble in surprise. “This is short notice,” you cut in, avoiding elongating pleasant greetings. “I apologize for the ongoing…drama. But if you would like to dismiss yourself, you could follow behind Mark there. The work environment is preferably... fast-paced.”
Mr.Jung clears his throat, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "No, no, it's quite alright. I'm flattered you've chosen me to fill this role. I assure you, I can keep pace with whatever this position requires." He extends his hand towards you.
You take his hand gesturing for him to sit across from you where your ex-employee took a stand. "Mark and I have... differing views on how the company should progress." You pause, eyeing Mr.Jung curiously. "I hope this won't be an issue for you.”
Mr.Jung tilts his head as he grins charmingly, his hands slipping into each other comfortably on his lap. “Just steer me in the direction you wanna go. No matter where, I’ll always be your right-hand man.”
You smile for the first time since Mark's presence disappeared from the space. “The expectations are high for you now Mr. Jung. I carry promises like those in the front of my mind.”
His smile widens, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "I won't let you down, Mrs. Hart. I promise I'll prove myself worthy of your high expectations." He pauses, "And please, call me Wooyoung."
You turn in your chair, and grab a clipboard and pen, sliding it across the desk to him. “Well Wooyoung, I hope you are ready for your first-ever business meeting.”
…
During the meeting, Wooyoung listens intently to the presentations, asking insightful questions and offering thoughtful suggestions that clearly show he's not just knowledgeable, but also cares deeply about the company's success. You couldn’t help but steal glances at him, thoroughly impressed by his intuition and outspokenness.
"I understand that we're aiming for a quick turnaround on this project," Wooyoung interjects during a discussion on project timelines. "But I think we should allocate more resources to quality assurance. Rushing might lead to oversights that could cost us more time and money in the long run."
Then there was once a marketing director, presenting a campaign idea that you seemed hesitant about. "I think we should consider a more digital approach," He interjects once again, and confidently. "Millennials and Gen Z are our target audience. They're not flipping through magazines or watching TV ads like they used to."
“He's right,” you chime in, your eyes appreciative as they meet Wooyoung's who’s sat across from you. "Let's allocate our budget to influencer partnerships and social media ads. And let's discuss this further after the meeting, Wooyoung.”
…
“This may be the first time in ages a man has kept true to his word with me,” you say to him after the meeting, “you quite literally took the words from my mouth.”
Wooyoung grins, leaning against the edge of your desk. "Well, I try my best to read the room. And you wear your thoughts rather openly on your face, Mrs. Hart."
You find this amusing, considering reading the room is your unique skill. “I don’t hold back, or rather, I can’t afford to. It was relieving to step back from being the bitchy boss for a change.”
"Well, I'm glad I could help you take a step back," Wooyoung remarks, his eyes crinkling with amusement. "For what it's worth, I find your honesty refreshing. And I assure you, I can handle the 'bitchy boss'. I thrive under challenge."
You genuinely chuckle and extend your hand for him to take. “Welcome to The “Better Business Co.”
🐈⬛🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾
As the days go by, Wooyoung's presence starts to have a noticeable effect on the office's mood. Colleagues who were once distant or quiet are now opened up and engaged in conversations. The atmosphere is lighter, with more laughter and genuine smiles. You aren’t ignorant of the changes, and it's not lost on Wooyoung either.
One day, as he's is chatting with some colleagues during lunch, you happened to pass by the table. You’re surprised to see him laughing freely with his coworkers, his natural charm and wit shining through. You pause in place, watching him for a moment before continuing on your way, a small smile playing on your lips.
Soon, you start to realize that Wooyoung's positive energy is infectious, and you find yourself feeling more relaxed and approachable. You start to initiate conversations with your team, asking about their weekends and hobbies.
The once-stuffy office is now filled with the sound of laughter and friendly banter. But business is still business of course.
As much as you worry to admit, you look forward to seeing Wooyoung's face in the morning. His warm smile and easy demeanor set the harmonious tone for the work day. You catch yourself humming along to the music playing in the background, something you never ever do. Even the usually grumpy IT guy can't help but crack a smile whenever he walks by.
As you and Wooyoung walk down the hallway together after another entertaining meeting, your colleagues greet you with daily smiles and waves. "Morning, Mrs. Hart! Mr. Jung!" someone calls out. He was so remarkably casual, a few high-five him as they see him pass by.
You can't help but notice how popular he's become. It made you ponder your work relationships at his side. Which made you realize, ‘relationships’ weren’t in your vocabulary.
You lean over towards him whispering, “You're like the office mascot. how does it feel to be so well loved?" Your eyes sparkle as you smile teasingly.
Wooyoung grins bashfully, running a hand through his flowing hair. "I guess I'm just a people person..but you know, it's not just me. You've lightened up too. The whole office feels like a different place now," he replies, his gaze warm as he smirks cheerfully at you.
It causes you to huff as you begrudgingly confess. “I suppose I have. But I’m never letting my guard down though when it comes to my business. I’m still tough like a clam.”
Wooyoung chuckles softly, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "I wouldn't expect anything less from our 'bitchy boss'." He winks at you, his tone playful. "But even a tough clam needs to come out of its shell once in a while."
…
The office is transformed for the night, strings of fairy lights casting a warm glow over the space. Laughter fills the air as colleagues mingle, enjoy good food, and let loose.
Wooyoung, dressed in a sharp suit, is behind the makeshift bar, mixing drinks with a flourish.
You finish a conversation and look for your new partner in crime. You realize his natural mingling nature may never be cut short from serving drinks all night long, so instead, you walk over to him yourself.
“Hey Jung, have you ever had a drink yourself yet?” You fold your arms onto the counter as you approach it. “I bet you could use it before everyone else here. After me, of course.”
Wooyoung looks up from his bartending duties, flashing you a grateful smile. "You know me too well. I've been so caught up in making sure everyone else is having a good time, I haven't had a chance to enjoy anything myself." He reaches for a clean glass, preparing himself a drink.
You wait until he’s finished and raise your half-empty glass for a cheers. “To our partnership…and the grand endeavors we’ll be rewarded along the way.”
Wooyoung clinks his glass against yours, his eyes meeting yours over the rim. "To partnerships, and proving that business and fun can be compatible." He takes a sip, his gaze never leaving your face. "You did an amazing job with this party by the way."
“Oh dear”, you snicker, “if it weren’t for you, a party would be the last thing on my checklist. We did an amazing job.”
He shakes his head, a warm smile spreading across his face. "Don't sell yourself short, Mrs.Hart. You're the one who decided to reward the team. I just helped you execute your vision." He leans over the counter with a playful wink, going over the remainder of his drink into his mouth.
Your face becomes flushed, flicking your wrist in distraction to swig your glass, only to spot it empty.
What's worse is that in truth, you had become a bit tipsy.
"Besides," Wooyoung continues, misinterpreting your flustered expression to be unphased, "it's not every day I get to work alongside such a... power boss." He winks playfully, grabbing a bottle behind the bar to refill your glass.
“A power boss?” You murmur. That’s a new one, but it’s the best name by far. Looks like I finally found someone to put up with my bitchiness.” You lift up your glass in celebration, slaying your arms over the stool in victory.
Woo laughs heartily, clinking his glass against yours once more. "And I love every minute of it." He takes a sip, his eyes twinkling with amusement.
"You know…”, he trails off, “some people might say we make a pretty great team, both in and out of the boardroom."
“Yeah?” You murmur, blowing out a harsh breath. Mostly due to the burning alcohol in your stomach. “Who said that?”
A mischievous grin appears on Wooyoung's face as he leans in closer. I might have overheard a couple of our colleagues discussing earlier. They were saying how well we complement each other, and..." He pauses for dramatic effect, “how our dynamic is almost...romantic?” He raises an eyebrow with an unveiling expression, gauging your reaction.
The office has been buzzing with such rumors for weeks. What goes around comes around to you like clockwork. But the folks in the office have been careful not to address either of you directly. "But we'd make a terrible couple, right?"
You freeze in disbelief before drunkenly waving off such a claim. “Damn right. We’re both too stubborn. We’d be unstoppable then.”
Wooyoung chuckles, taking another sip of his drink. A rather large one in comparison to the lasts. "Exactly..besides, I couldn't handle being bossed around 24/7." "Though I must admit, there are some perks to the idea." His gaze flickers to your lips briefly before meeting your eyes again.
“Oh yeah? Well, lemme hear 'em.” You suddenly become confident with the liquid courage, and he is no help, he continues what he initiated with the liquor flowing like blood in his system.
Wooyoung leans in closer, lowering his voice conspiratorially. "Well, for one, your... assertiveness would be quite... stimulating in other situations." He smirks, watching your reaction closely.
The sudden change of mood makes you spit out a little laughter and nearly fall out of your seat- to which Wooyoung catches you, but almost falls over himself.
You lean in and whisper childishly with a hand hovering over the sides of your face. “Do you mean like…
“Sex?”
A brief widening of Wooyoung's eyes occurs, followed by a soft laugh, his face flushed. "Eh, erm, yeah...that's one of many perks that came to mind."
You giggle in amusement, wiggling a teasing finger at how heated he became at his own jest. Just as your moving close to his chisled cheek, with his eyes allured on your dazed face, you lose balance from out of your seat.
Wooyoung helps steady your waving form, his hands are gentle, and firm. "Ah...see? You're drunk sweetheart. "I'm not sure that's an appropriate topic for the office party anyway."
You groan in annoyance and set down your glass. You lean forward again, trying to maintain contact with his deep eyes as your eyes blink out of sync. “What happens to putting the fun in business”, you whine. “Your a little…party pooper. I wanna go home.” Your head wanes back and forth, then tumbling down to smack the countertop.
Wooyoung sighs, rubbing his temples. He looks around the party, which has started to wind down, and he decides then, it's probably for the best. "Alright, alright. Let's get you home." He carefully moves around the bar to pick you up, cradling you in his arms.
You continue on, whining and complaining about wanting to go to bed with your arm thrown around his neck-pulling him down in the slightest. “Hey you…party pooper…tuck me in already”, you burp.”
He trudges you successfully out of the office, ignoring your complaints. Once you're both in his car, he carefully buckles you into the passenger seat before getting in behind the wheel. As he drives, he can't help but glance over from time to time. It was extremely rare to have ever seen you like this.
Wooyoung pulls a quick hand off the wheel and sends a voice text to your HR representative, asking them to wrap things up and make sure everyone gets home safely. He then focuses back on the road, determined to get you home without any more eventful detours. "There, all taken care of," he says, more to himself than to anyone else.
A sudden road bump pangs your head into the door, and you moan painfully, waving a measly finger at your subordinate.“Hey, don’t drink and drive!”
Wooyoung can't help but adore at your drunken concern. "Don't worry, I'm perfectly sober. I only had the drinks we shared. You, on the other hand..." He glances at her, shaking his head fondly. "What am I going to do with you, madam?"
You frown with etched brown, drunkenly trying to think long and hard about what you should do. It makes your headache worsen even more and you simply give up. “Arghhh, I dunno…”
A warmth spread through his chest at your petulant expression. He pulls up to your apartment building and parks the car. "Come on, let's get you inside." He reaches across to unbuckle your seatbelt, sliding his hands around your waist to help you out of the car carefully.
You don’t know what happened in between but you have already made it to the elevator “Eight, room 816,” you whisper. The door closes as you both elevate to the eighth floor. You lean on Wooyoung when you stumble, his hold is automatic, and he finds it so amusing. “You’re so warm.” You drunkenly express, “like my blanket.”
Wooyoung chuckles softly as he supports your weight, his hands resting comfortably on your hips. "I'm glad I can be your human blanket." He guides you out of the elevator when you arrive at the floor with a ding and down the hall to your door. "Now, where are your keys, sleepyhead?"
“I won’t tell you that they’re in my purse.” You whisper, and quite literally waving a finger ‘no’.
He sighs and carefully sets you down on the floor, kneeling in front of you to dig vigorously through your deep designer purse. "You're making this much harder than it needs to be madam," he mutters, finally finding the keys.
“Sorry.” You sheepishly mutter.
“I forgive you.” Wooyoung unlocks the door and pulls you inside, guiding you to the place you've wanted to be all night long, the bedroom.
He sits you down softly on the edge of the bed and kneels in front of you, gently removing your feet from your gruesome hot pink heels.
"There, that's better, Wooyoung proclaims. “Now, let's get you under the covers before you pass out on top of them."
In a way, you make things a small bit easier, smiling and pulling your body in the sheets with him like a lazy rag doll. “Ahhh…home sweet home.”
Wooyoung tucks you into bed, pulling the blankets up to your chin as if you were his child. A strand of hair is brushed out of your face by him in another sign of parental affection. "Sleep well. You’re going to need it.”
He pulls back as you nuzzle in warmth, speculating a small glance of discomfort in your features. At first, he hesitates, but then he leans down and presses a soft kiss to the harsh kiss between your eyebrows.
Wooyoung lingers for a moment, his lips still against your forehead, before gently pulling away. To his surprise the crease melts flat, ceasing in appearance.
He takes a deep breath, steeling himself as he watches over your form. "Mrs.Hart," he whispers softly, "We need to talk."
Without speaking any further, he leaves your apartment shortly after. He didn’t expect a response of course, nor for you to remember these moments in the next morning. It was more so of a practice run, a severe need to ease relief from the front of his mind.
The drive home is spent lost in thought, the gold city lights blurred outside his windows. Once he arrived home, he stripped down to his boxers and fekk into bed.
But sleep is harder than most nights, and it’s all your fault.
…
The next morning, Wooyoung strides into the office with a purpose. He's dressed sharp, his mind focused solely on business. At first glance, you would have never thought anything worrying was crushing on his nerves.
He greets his employees with a polite nod, and his face derives from anything non-neutral. As he settles behind his desk, he pulls out a folder containing the day's agenda.
You, on the other hand, are hungover. Someone looked after you this morning-setting out your clothes and saving you lots of time and embarrassment in the process- because you were started to settle on PJs.
All alone in your office, you suffer in silence from your headache, drinking both tea and coffee to wake you up and liven your mood.
Wooyoung walks in happily as he does every working morning, noticing your slow movements and frequent face-palms from his office. He suppresses a smile, instead walking over to your office with two ibuprofen tablets and a bottle of water. "Here," he says, setting them down neatly on your desk. "For your head."
You greatly take them as soon as they’re placed in front of you, swallowing one dry as you down the water to prepare for another. “Wooyoung…thank you for this, and for getting me home safely. From this headache, I can imagine I was a hot mess.” You pull your hands to smooth the sides of your head, moaning as the pain subsides.
He leans against the nearest wall with his arms crossed. "You were," he says bluntly, a small smirk playing on his lips. "But I took care of you, and that’s what I'm here for." His gaze intensifies, holding amusingly onto yours.
You hiss from looking up toward the ceiling lights. “Yeah but last night might’ve been a little extreme, and it won’t happen. Anyway, what’s on today’s agenda?”
He pulls out a folder from under his arm and walks over to set it down on your desk. "Today, we're finalizing the contract for the new club downtown."
“Good”, you scan over the contents inside the folder with a breath of relief. “Nothing that over-exerts the energy that I don’t have. Today should be easy.”
Wooyoung straightens up, his smirk deepening. "Just leave the heavy lifting to me, my hungover delicate flower. I'll make sure everything runs smoothly."
You chuckle at his typical teasing. It was never too much. Just unpredictable, but effective. “I’ll treat you to dinner after work. It’s the least I could do for my non-professional-like behavior.
Wooyoung's eyes glint with excitement. "Deal," he replies. "But tonight, I choose the restaurant. And…," he adds, shifting aimlessly on his heel, "you're not driving. I'll pick you up."
Without a beat, you throw your hands up beside your head without banter. “You don’t hear any complaints from me!”
He grins at you wolfishly, clearly pleased. "Good. Because I have the perfect place in mind”, he says cheekily. “Now, let's get to work, Madam Hart. We've got a contract to finalize." He winks at you and saunters out of your office, whistling an original tune.
…
As the day progresses, Wooyoung does indeed take the lead, handling the more demanding tasks with ease. In admiration you watch him, impressed by his imitation of your assertiveness and confident demeanor.
As the discoursed work day came to its end, the business still stood on all fours thanks to Better Business Company’s Mr. Jung.
True to his word, Wooyoung arrives at your apartment later that evening. He's dressed for a casual outing, his long hair tucked back into a ponytail with two neatly placed front strands. He rings the doorbell, a bouquet tucked under one arm.
Your company comes as expected as you lie idly on your couch. You walk to answer the door, looking more refreshed and rejuvenated than earlier today in a pink slip-dress. "Hey…you look nice."
The large bouquet of petunias came out in surprise. You would’ve seen them sooner if you weren’t processing your focus in his face before it could make its way down to the rest of his body. “Oh…Wooyoung I- what are these for? I’m already in your debt. I don’t need you to buy me flowers.”
"Nonsense," he replies, pushing the bouquet firmly into your arms. "Consider it a peace offering. For last night, and for being such a trooper today despite your hangover." He grins mischievously.
You turn foot into your apartment as you roll your eyes. “Well let me just set these in my vase, and we can get going to this mystery spot.”
Wooyoung nods, watching as you bustle around and make picky remarks about the secret place he selected. He notices little details - a book on the coffee table, a photograph on the wall, a stack of unopened mail. He files these away in his mental library, eager to learn more about you outside of his paycheck. "Ready?" he asks once you return, his hand waits for yours to hold.
“More than I’ll ever be.” You take his hand as the tips of your fingers brush over his palm. But once you’ve made it outside your door, you pull it out of his subtle grip.
Wooyoung snickers under his breath, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Don't worry, it's not a surprise skydiving session." He places a hand on the small of your back, guiding you out of the building and down to his car.
“That would be such a dick move after a hangover,” you scoff as you approach the door.
"Mmm, note to self: no extreme activities post-Mrs.Hart’s bender." he chuckles, moving around to open the passenger door for you.
On the drive there it’s no different. Wooyoung fills the silence with baited banter, making you fall for it so gullibly, despite your usual self.
The car arrived at a nondescript building. Wooyoung leads you up a flight of stairs to a rooftop patio. String lights twinkle overhead, and the air is filled with the sizzle of cooking and the low murmur of conversation. He guides you to a small table in a quiet corner.
You nod approvingly at your new surroundings, smiling warmly at Wooyoung who has been watching your reaction with glee. “Fresh air, check. Warm high-calorie food, check. Nice company….check. This may be the ideal hangover spot. Well played Mr. Jung.”
Wooyoung grins, taking his seat after pulling out yours. "I have my moments."
He picks up his menu, scanning it for a few seconds before setting it down without a second glance. Rather he looks across the table at your downturned eyes. "Now, let's see... what do you hungover crave? Greasy food? Carbs? Something spicy to clear out those sinuses?"
“Mmm…”, you hum, dazzling over the menu while scooching playfully on your seat. “I’ll have a mix of all the above.”
"Excellent choice," Woo says, approvingly. He flags down a waitress, placing an order for two of their special, ‘Hangover Helpers'.
While waiting for your orders, you decide to pick up on less frivolous conversations. “Did I do anything odd that made you uncomfortable while I was drunk? I swear I can’t remember a darn thing besides going to bed.”
Wooyoung leans back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. "No, nothing too out of the ordinary," he says, a slight smirk playing on his lips. "Just the usual drunken musings and some...affectionate gestures."
You squeeze your eyes shut and clench your teeth in frustration. “Dammit! That is one of the things I didn’t want to hear! Did it make you uncomfortable?”
His smirk widens into a full-blown grin. “You drunkenly telling me I'm ‘so dreamy' and trying to hug me was adorable. It didn’t make me uncomfortable in the least, I just wish I had recorded it."
“Okay…”, you start with a genuine laugh, “I don’t even have to be sober to know I, in fact, did not say-“
"Oh, yes you did," Wooyoung insists, his eyes dancing with amusement. "And you also informed me that my hair is 'like satin'. Your words, not mine." He leans forward, resting his chin on his hand.
“You truly amuse me”, you bitterly scoff.
"Oh, but you did," he continued, leaning forward. "And then you proceeded to pat my cheeks and declare that, ‘I had such a sweet face'. You were quite taken with my face actually."
Your eyes lower in a deadpan expression. You reach forward to grab a menu, fanning it in your face. “I have a feeling that I was more infatuated with my bed than anything.”
"Ah,” he concedes with a chuckle, “but the bed was a close second. "You did have a rather passionate reunion with your pillow when I finally got you into bed." He shakes his head, still grinning. "I swear…your drunk self is a riot."
You huff quietly with a small smile that dissipates in seconds. “I’ve only heard that a couple of times with Mark…he’d just let me lay on top of the bedding- and forget about setting my clothes out for tomorrow. He said I was so impossible to deal with, he couldn’t even take off my shoes.”
Wooyoung's expression softens, his humor fading for a moment. "Well, I managed," he says quietly. "It wasn't so bad. Though I will admit, you were a lot more childish than usual.”
Your eyes snap up from his use of words- your turn the menu down in disbelief. “What! Oh gosh… I don’t think I wanna know what happens next.”
"Oh, come on, it wasn't that bad," he groans, his grin returning. Before he could further explain the waitress serves your platters.
Wooyoung dives into his food with enthusiasm, occasionally stealing glances at you teasingly as you prepare to eat. He watches as you take a big first bite, your eyes fluttering closed briefly in satisfaction. "Good?"
Your eyes feast on the rest of your meal rather than the man who invited you out to dinner. “Breakfast never tasted so good.”
"I'm glad," Wooyoung mumbles, his mouth full of food. He swallows and takes a sip of his coffee before continuing. "Though I have to say, you seemed to enjoy your pillow just as much last night. Quite the dramatic reunion with it."
“Okay, let it go!” You chew with a small laugh, and there was more where that came from for the rest of your dinner.
…
Wooyoung mimics your every giggle to your apartment, leaning against the closed door. "Well, at least this time you're sober." His grin is quick and charming. "Mostly."
You hold back a smile and push him away from the door, fumbling while grabbing your keys that fell to the bottom of your purse- giving Wooyoung major deja vu vibes from last night. “Well I promise you won’t have to cuddle me in bed this time- and set out my outfits.”
When you finally found your key, you held it up like a bar of gold, quickly inserting it through the lock and entering the apartment.
You turn to Wooyoung, but the intensity in the air fills with an odd lingering desire to stay in each other's company. The night was still young, and the office was closed for the weekend...
“Would you like to come in?”
His gaze follows into the apartment, his eyes lingering on you as you turn your back to him, walking towards the hall to your bedroom. If he said no, you’d have to awkwardly walk back to the door, and slam it quickly to just blame it on you still being hungover the next day.
The intensity in the air is palpable, the unspoken desire to prolong this moment hangs heavily. Wooyoung steps inside, closing the door behind him. "Just for a minute."
You approach the bedroom door, opening it up just a bit with a small creak. “I’m just going to change back into my PJs. Make yourself comfortable if you’d like.”
Wooyoung watches as you disappear down the hall. He doesn’t understand why his shoulders drop from tension as you leave the room. He lets out a slow breath, trying to rein in his thoughts.
He walks over to the gray velvet sofa with pink pillow decor, sits down, and runs a hand over to the back of his head to remove his hair tie- dislodging a few strands from its careful styling.
Moments after you come back out in your pink (of course) satin pajamas- making yourself comfortable on the couch with glasses of water for the both of you.
Wooyoung's eyes follow you as you re-enter, his gaze lingering in satisfaction in the way the satin clings to your curves. He takes the glass of water you offer, your fingers brushing briefly. "Thanks," he murmurs, taking a sip to distract himself from the sudden dryness in his throat.
His change of demeanor doesn’t go unnoticed by you, part of being a good CEO is reading the bodily behavior of your colleagues. “You sure that’s all that went last night Mr. Jung? I feel like you might be disassociating with some kind of- PTSD.”
His smirk revives at your teasing tone, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Very funny," he drawls, setting his glass down on the coffee table with a deliberate clink. "I'm just thinking, that’s all."
You weigh your leg into a cushion, settling your back into a pillow in the corner. “A glass of water for your thoughts?”
Wooyoung's expression suddenly turns serious, his gaze intent as he peers over at you for a few heartbeats. "Just...about how different this is from last night," he says slowly. "And how much...I don't want it to end."
A tapping sound clinks on your glass from your fingernails as silence reigns after his confession. “I respect you for being so open about that, I know that wasn’t the easiest thing. Which is why…I too feel the same way.”
His eyebrows melts and his pout lies flat as relief etches into his features. "Good," he breathes. Leaning forward, he sets his glass down. The movement brings him closer to you, and the space between you both shrinks in distance.
“Oh, come on.” You whine, the sudden moments of silence were becoming exasperated. “When the spotlights on you, you want to shrivel up in the dark and be nonchalant? What’s bothering you Wooyoung?”
His chest tightens at your words, his heart pounding in his ears. He looks into your eyes, seeing the warmth and understanding there, and it's like a dam starts breaking inside him. "I'm scared," he admits, his voice barely above a whisper.
Sensing the seriousness that arises, you sigh in guilt, setting your water down as you gesture toward your chest for Wooyoung to lie upon. “I won’t push it.”
He hesitates for just a moment before slowly leaning forward, resting his head on satin-clad chest. Your warmth envelops him, your laundry wash filling his nostrils. He exhales shakily, his arms coming up to wrap around smoothly around your waist. "I'm scared of messing this up."
Your face scrunches up in confusion. If anything, everything he’s done so far is miles away from a fuck up. “You don’t need to worry. The business thrives with you in it. If anything I’ll slip up before you do.”
Wooyoung lets out a huff of laughter at your comforting words, his arms tightening around you as he exhales another snapping breath. "That's not what I meant," he says quietly. His fingers trace irregular patterns on your back through the satin. "I'm scared of scaring you off. Of wanting too much."
You scoff, shaking your head with worry and whispering, “I’m sure whatever you have planned for the company will be in its best interest. You cook up great innovations Wooyoung. I trust you most.”
His breath regulates at your revelation, a warmth spreading through his chest that has nothing to do with body heat. He tilts his head to look up at you, his eyes shining marvelously with emotion. "You trust me?" he asks softly, almost desperately.
“I never thought I’d see the day I say it to any man…but yes!” You chuckled. “I trust you, Wooyoung Jung.”
His face breaks into a wide, heartfelt smile. "Good," he murmurs, before leaning up to lay back on his elbows. When he pulls away, he props his head on the top of the sofa, his voice is barely a whisper. "Because I trust you with me, Mrs.Hart."
A hand you had casually been held up where his head lied poked him on the forehead. “That’s what makes us so compatible, partner.”
‘Partner’, he thinks, the word resonating to the deep thoughts within him.
…
In the following week at the office, you and Wooyoung have fallen into an upbeat rhythm. You spent hours debating over contracts, brainstorming new evolutionary ideas, and sharing laughter over late-night work sessions. One evening, as you’re wrapping up, Wooyoung leans back in his chair, rubbing his drowsy eyes.
You shut off your desktop, holding the power button until you see pitch black. “This week catching up to you too huh?”
Wooyoung nods, a rueful smile on his face. "You could say that. I feel like I've been running on caffeine and adrenaline." He stands up and stretches, his shirt riding up to expose a sliver of his toned stomach. "What do you say we call it a night?
Your jaw tenses as you take an accidental peak at his abdomen, you grab a pen and scribble on a sticky note- alleviating your focus elsewhere. “I’m up for it. Tomorrow is our day off, and we’re caught up for the next couple of months if things go to plan.”
"Mhm, and things will go to plan," he bursts out confidently, rounding his desk to where you scribble your thoughts on paper. He comes up behind you, and your doodles come to a slow. It wasn’t until you felt massages to your shoulders that the tension melted under his fingers.
You moan softly, tilting your neck for Wooyoung to access those sore spots your massage gun touches every hard work day.
His grin widens at your quiet moan, his thumbs working the knots out of your pointed shoulders. "Mmhmm, just like that," you murmur approvingly. As he works, he leans down, his breath fanning over your ear. "Have I told you how much I appreciate you lately?”, he devilishly whispers.
"Not nearly enough," you jokingly reply, your voice low.
Wooyoung huffs, continuing to massage your shoulders, his touch easing as he feels you relax under his ministrations. “You're the backbone of this company, Mrs.Hart. And not just the company...me too. I don't know what I'd do without you."
Your eyes snap open, you grab onto the hands Wooyoung held over your shoulders in a still. “You know that goes both ways.”
Both of his hands smooth over your back blades as he backs away to turn your chair around, dropping to his knees before you. His hands take claim off you this time, thumping in your lap. "Yes, it does," he agrees softly, his eyes focused on yours in a deep search.
The office is quiet around you, the only sound is the soft hum of the computers on standby. There was something about him at this moment that made it hard to swallow. To move, to just breathe. He just looked so striking under the one ceiling light that illuminated the room.
“Okay…”, you sufferingly clear your throat, “let’s get a move on. If you keep doing that time will be pouring into tomorrow.”
Wooyoung nods as his head casts downward with a wicked grin, reluctantly releasing onto your hands. He arises first, helping you to your feet. "Alright, alright. Let's go," he groans, walking with you towards the elevator. As you both step inside, he hits the button for the ground floor, leaning against the wall behind you.
You mindlessly look at the secured sliding doors, dreaming about the freedom outside of it, wondering what your day off would entail.
The elevator begins to descend, the soft hum filling the silence between them. Wooyoung watches your blurred expression through the reflective steel walls of the elevator. He places his hands tentatively on your shoulders once again. "A massage for your thoughts?" he mimics from last week's hang out.
Your eyes shutter as soon as you feel rhe contact of his warmth. “I’m just waiting for tomorrow. Mentally, I’m already there.”
Wooyoung chuckles, pulling off once again to stand by your side as the floor gets closer for departure, bumping your hip with his own. "Me too. It's going to be a good day," he comments, his tone filled with promise. The elevator dings, as the doors slide open. He places a hand on the small of your back, guiding you out into the lobby.
You both walk out to your cars which are now parked next to each other- because it just makes sense with how often you work together.
As you both approach the cars you push start on your keys, and you both arrive at your drivers' doors simultaneously. "And Mrs.Hart?" You look up to meet Wooyoung, who is already eyeing you. "Drive safe, okay? Text me when you get home?"
You giggle as you chew nibbles on your lips. “You know I’m no good at that. I’ll probably be blowing boogers in my sheets by the time I get home.”
Wooyoung pulls open his door with a chuckle, shaking his head. "Fair point. Just ask your Alexa, she’ll do all the work.” He opens his door, sliding into the driver's seat before leaning over to roll down the passenger window. "Goodnight, Mrs.Hart."
You slide into your car, mimicking his action before waving at him with a small smile. “Goodnight Wooyoung, drive safe.”
He waits until your car pulls out of the parking lot before putting his car in gear. He watches your taillights until they disappear around the corner, a contented smile on his face as he starts the drive home.
…
Wooyoung wakes up to the sound of birds chirping outside his window. He stretches flexibly, the blankets roll away from his bare chest. He stands up to freely pull off his boxers, padding naked to the bathroom.
After completing his morning routine, he wraps a towel around his waist and heads downstairs.
He eats his eggs and rice slowly, his mind drifting to the possibilities of your whereabouts. He thinks about your strength, your confidence, your unyielding feminist nature.
He thinks about kneeling before you, about your hands gripping his hair, about your voice ordering him to... He shakes his head, trying to dispel the thoughts.
He hears a distant ping from his coffee machine and walks back into the kitchen to pour himself a mug, adding plentiful spoonfuls of sugar before taking a seat at the table. As he sips his coffee, his mind wanders back to you.
He remembers how you handled a difficult client last week. How you stood tall, your eyes blazing with anger as you dressed the man down. He remembers the way your voice dropped to that low, commanding tone when you were displeased. He swallows hard, his body reacting dangerously to the memory.
He takes a shuddering breath, his towel tenting obscenely in his lap. He knows he shouldn't be thinking about his boss this way. It's inappropriate and unprofessional. But he can't help it. The thought of her dominating him, controlling him completely, sets his blood on fire.
Coincidentally, he receives a text later that day as he's lounging on his bed, flipping through the channels on his TV.
You: I know it's our day off but could you come over?
You: I need some brawn over here.
Wooyoung: No worries.
Wooyoung: I haven’t moved from my bed since I ate breakfast this morning. Coming over.”
In no time flat, he quickly gets dressed in a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie before making his way over giddily to your apartment. When he arrives, he knocks and hears a voice yelling from inside. “Come on in!”
He walks into you trying to carry a box into your room. Your face is flushed with red, and strands of hair fall out piece by piece out of your bun. "I swear, if I break a nail..." you muttered under your breath.
Like a track star he quickly strides over, wrapping his arms around the other side of the box. "You can let go, I’ll take care of it," he says, easily lifting it out of your hands. He carries it into your bedroom, placing it on the floor beside your bare mattress. "What is all this stuff woman?"
You follow him inside, sighing at all the packages you have yet to unbox. “It’s all for my queen-size four-poster bed. I should’ve let those guys charge me to build it.”
Wooyoung's eyes widen as he processes the implications. A queen size bed with four posters...perfect for-
tying someone up?
He swallows hard, stressing to keep his composure. "That's... that's a really nice bed," he manages to say, his voice slightly strained.
“Yeah…I figured it looked nice with a canopy,” you remark, “it’ll make this space less boring I guess.”
Wooyoung nods, his eyes darting to the bedposts. He imagines being bound to them, helpless, at mercy. The thought makes his heart race. He turns away, busying himself with disassembling the box. "What all do you need help with again?"
You turn to him awkwardly with an embarrassed grin. “I think I need you for the whole build… if you have the time?”
He starts to talk but he hesitates, struggling to blindside his racing mind. Being alone with you for an extended period, in your personal space... It's dangerous territory, given his feelings. But he can't say no, not when you’re looking at him with the eyes of a vixen. "Of course," he hears himself say.
“Really!” You gawk in excitement, hugging him only briefly. “Ugh, where have you been since I moved into this place!”
“I don’t know…when did you move in?” He childishly muttered.
You roll your eyes, playfully smacking his chest which he rubs onto delicately after with a pout. “I’ll help you, of course, and you’ll be out of here in no time!”
As you begin to skim over the directions, oblivious to his inner turmoil, Wooyoung takes a deep breath, stilling himself. "Alright, let's do this."
…
The next few hours are spent reading a complex manual the team deciphers with experiments- and oftentimes- chatting breaks that could’ve been replaced with work being done.
As the two of you build, your dynamic of ‘partners’ begins to shift. You laugh together at each other’s frustrations, your shoulders brush as you lean over the instructions. Wooyoung finds himself relaxing, his earlier anxiety replaced by a comfortable camaraderie.
Until...
"Okay, now we need to attach this to the post."
You stand above the mattress to hold each piece in place while Wooyoung reaches around to the front of you to secure it with the provided hardware.
Again, experimentation is the most convenient strategy- well… more to one party than the other. As your bodies press close, his chest connects to your back. His breath catches at the contact. He fumbles with the screwdriver, his hands suddenly become clumsy and the nail unscrews itself from the hole. "Shit… sorry.”, he whispers.
“Don’t fret”, you gleam, “just screw it in a bit more.” You assist him as you tip your head back against his shoulder, giving him better access to properly screw into the hole. "Here, like this," you say. Wooyoung swallows hard, his throat crumbled dry. He can feel your breath, warmth brushing against his neck. He pushes to focus on the task at hand, trying to ignore the distraction you unknowingly present.
He's hyper-aware of every inch of your body against his. He finally gets the screw tightened, then pulls back abruptly, as it doesn’t screw in any tighter. "There”, he breathed out in relief.
You squeal in excitement, jumping down from your bed. “Holy shit…we’re finally done, and it looks exactly like the picture on the box!”
Wooyoung nods, climbing down and trying to regain his composure. The bed stands proudly in the center of the room, its canopy draped along the edges so sinfully. "It looks great," he manages to say, his voice a bit hoarse.
An adrenaline rush pulses through your core as you jump to lightly bounce on the mattress, zooming to every corner.
Wooyoung laughs weakly, running a hand through his hair. "Hey get down, don’t erase our hard work!" he says teasingly. You walk down to the foot of the bed where he stood, towering over him in an effortless and poweress stance, poking out your tongue with a silly expression.
He avoids looking at you after you bounce away, afraid his feelings might be written all over his face. "Well, I suppose your zoomies mean that my work is done. I should probably go.”
His discern punches guilt into your chest. His energy couldn’t equate to match yours right now, and it’s all because he took on the weight of putting the pieces together. “Wooyoung wait!”
He turns hesitantly in the door frame, watching as you hop down from the newly built bed. "Thank you…for today. I couldn't have done it without you." You bite your lower lip, dithering to say…"Stay for dinner?"
It's a recipe for disaster. But he can't bring himself to say no.
Wooyoung's heart skips a beat at the invitation. He wants to stay, and he wants to spend more time with you. But he knows it's a bad idea, and that he needs to set boundaries for himself. He opens his mouth to decline, but the words stick in his throat. "Okay," he hears himself say instead.
“Great! And then you’ll be on your way home, I promise!”
Wooyoung forces a smile, nodding in agreement. He follows you to the kitchen, his mind racing. He knows he's playing with fire, but he can't seem to help himself. As you start pulling ingredients out of the fridge, he offers to help, hoping the distraction will keep his feelings at bay.
He watches as you bustle around the kitchen, pulling out ingredients, and humming under your breath. Every now and again you’ll point to a spot in the kitchen for an ingredient and he’ll fetch it for you like a puppy.
And boy did his tail wag at every command.
…
“Okay, that’s enough now” you direct in a monotone voice. “Just give it to me Wooyoung.”
He looks up from the cutting board, his eyes meeting yours. You’re leaning against the counter, your arms crossed over your chest. Your gaze is intense, and your expression is unreadable. "What?", he asks voice barely above a whisper.
“The veggies!”, you vigorously point, “you’re gonna cut them too small!”
"Oh," he says, his voice coming out choked. He quickly moves the cutting board out of his reach, his hands shaking slightly.
You push off from the counter and move closer to him, your movements careful and deliberate. "Here, let me," you say in your more homely voice.
He steps aside, his heart pounding in his chest. He watches as you finish chopping the vegetables, your hands sure and steady.
As you work, Wooyoung can't help but stare at you. The way your hair cascades near your back, the curve of your waist, the strength in your arms. He's so caught up in admiring you that he doesn't realize you're finished until you turn back in his direction. "There”, you whisper with a satisfactory smile, "dinner should be ready in another ten minutes.”
"Great," his voice sounding strained even to his ears. He clears his throat from the itchiness, "Is there anything else I can do to help?" He's desperate for a distraction, anything to keep his mind off the way his body is reacting to your proximity.
“No, you’ve done enough. If it makes you feel better I can just give you a bite to go.” You turn to him as you mix around the ingredients from sticking at the bottom of the pot. Slightly worried about his oddly anxious nature.
"I'm sorry, I'm just..." Wooyoung trails off, unsure how to finish. He's just what? In love with you? Desperately attracted to you? Terrified that you might notice the way he's been looking at you?
You sigh, slowly walking up to him and touching his shoulder. “You're overthinking too much, and you’re probably pushing your body beyond what it can bear Wooyoung. Lay on the couch for a bit, I’ll bring dinner to you.”
In coerced agreement, he nods, relief washing over him at your touch. He lets out a shaky breath, feeling like he's teetering on the edge of a precipice. He turns and walks to the couch, sitting down heavily. As he lays back, he closes his eyes, trying to calm his racing heart. “Get your shit together man,” he whispers amongst himself.
You enter the living room minutes later, carrying a tray with a steaming bowl of your homemade chicken and vegetable stir fry, a side of steamed jasmine rice, and a glass of water. You set it down on the coffee table in front of Wooyoung.
“You wanna sit up so you can properly put some fuel in your body?” Wooyoung sits up, his eyes fixed on you. The way you lean over to put the tray down causes your blouse to gap slightly, offering him a tantalizing hint of cleavage. He swallows hard, trying to dislodge the lump in his throat.
As Wooyoung starts to lean backward, you plump the throw pillows behind him, your fingers brushing against his shoulder. He stiffens at your touch, and you notice his reaction, your eyes flicking up to meet his.
The contact lingers for a moment, with your faces close. Wooyoung can smell your perfume, something light and floral that makes him want to bury his face in your neck. You blink, breaking the spell, and step back. "Eat up before it gets cold," you mutter in a slightly breathy voice.
He feels both unnerved and invigorated by you’s directness. It’s as if you stripped away some of the layers of polite distance that usually exist between you two, leaving him feeling raw and exposed.
You join him in eating and cars rev as they pass by now and again in the silence. You chew softly and grow more annoyed with Wooyoung's continuous acts of behavior. You thought the food would cheer him up but by the way he’s still scooching on the opposite ends of your couch- you know something’s up.
"You're being awfully quiet," you acknowledge, tearing the silence. "And you keep scooching away from me, so, let’s talk." you take a sip of your wine, your eyes narrowing as you study him.
He shifts uncomfortably, tugging at his hood collar as if it's suddenly too tight. "I, uh, I'm just not used to you being so... nurturing, I guess. It's throwing me off."
You laugh loudly, shaking your head in surprise. "Wow, not even a little bit subtle, huh?", you set your wine glass down and turn to face him fully. “Did I ruin your plans for today? I will grant you a free vacation day from work. I mean we’re already caught up with the progress we’re making.”
Wooyoung's shoulders relax, and he lets out a small laugh. "No, seriously, don’t bother. It's just... different. Unexpected. You're usually so... focused on work. Seeing you like this, taking care of me, it's...nice." He pauses, then adds quietly, "...a little scary." your eyebrows shoot up, a flicker of hurt crossing your face before you disclose your expression.
"Scary? Because I'm being nice to you?" your voice is carefully neutral, but there's an undercurrent of confusion and slight offense.
“I don’t know it feels…motherly?”
You throw your head back and laugh, a rich, throaty sound that fills the room. "Oh my goodness, Wooyoung. I'm 29, not 60. I think I can take care of you without having to be Mrs. Weilderman from next door."
Your laughter eases the tension, and Wooyoung feels his body unwinding. "Alright, alright, not motherly. Just... different. And I like it," he says, giving you a small smile. He takes a deep breath and continues, “Maybe even more than I should." He pauses, looking down at his hands as he wrings them in his lap. "I think I might be um..."
“A mommas' boy?” you joke, tapping the shell of your elbow into his slender shoulders, causing him to rock right.
“I am my momma's boy,” he admits, “and I love her to death, so you can’t shame me.”
“Awwww how cute~ I don’t think I’ve seen you become such a sap. Looks like we’re both seeing different sides of another tonight.”
Wooyoung encircles his small face frame that holds a big package of handsomeness. “No shame.” You giggle, swiveling your wine before tossing back the remaining liquid.“But, there’s this other thing. I can’t find the word for it, but it’s like this feeling of me just… naturally wanting to do anything for you. It never feels forced on the job.”
“Awe, well aren’t you perfect for employee of the month.” You sigh contentedly and ponder his heartfelt confessions. “Okay…” you nod, “let’s try, devoted? Indebted? Grateful?”
Hiss eyes flick over your face, he tilts his head like a lost puppy, shaking his head when the words just didn’t hit a ring in him. “No? Naturally, doing anything…for me? Without feeling forced…
“Submissive?” you whisper, looking down in shock from the slip before you look back up at him.
Wooyoung's head snaps up, his eyes wide with shock and a hint of fear. "How did you...?"
“Oh…”
He swallows hard, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. "I mean it’s only natural! As your..subordinate."
You grin mischievously, your eyes gleaming with amusement. "I mean it is a bit of a shock, but we can talk about it.” you lean forward, poking him playfully in the chest. He reaches up to rub over the area, his cheeks reddening in embarrassment. “You were a bit like this the other night. I think you said something about scaring me off?”
Wooyoung chuckles nervously, looking back at you. “I guess I just... I just wanted you to see me as more than just your subordinate. And I guess this is me ruining my chances.”
“I guess that sort of depends on what you want then. You smooth a hand over his shoulders, trying to mimic the calming massages he gives you under stress. “We work pretty closely to where things are just natural between us now, it wouldn’t necessarily be ruined.”
Your words send a thrill through Wooyoung, and he bites his lip, his heart racing. "What do you mean?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper. He looks up at you, his eyes searching yours for any hint of what you might be thinking.
“Well… whatever it is that you're beating the bush around.”
Wooyoung's words hang in the air, heavy with unspoken desire. He looks up at you, his eyes pleading, and his heart pounds like a bongo in his chest. “I want to serve you outside of the office, provide you relief from a shitty work day, and more beyond than just a back massage.”
“Tell me the about the- ‘and more’ ” You inch closer with dimly lit slender eyes and coax Wooyoung's shaky hands with your hot pink sharp stiletto nails.
He shudders as you's nails trace over his skin, his resolve weakening. "I... I want to worship every inch of you," he breathes, his voice trembling with barely contained desire. "To use all of me for your pleasure in ways you've never experienced before. I’d kiss the ground before you.”
You lean in completely and abruptly stop at his trembling dolly pink lips. “How about you shut the hell up, and kiss me now?
The sudden change in your demeanor sparks immediate action from Wooyoung. He leans in, burrowing his fingertips directly onto your scalp, pressing his hot lips to yours. The kiss starts chaste before growing more passionate.
As you pull apart, his eyes dilate at your lips as he whispers, "That's what I've wanted to do to you every time you've snapped at someone in a meeting.”
You chuckle, leaning upward to press your thumb over his wet lips. “That would’ve been a real power move hm? It would’ve given those uppity dipshits more of me to talk about.”
Wooyoung's heart races as he looks at you, taking in your amused expression. "Yeah, it would have gave them more to focus on than their egos." he agrees, his voice still breathless from their kiss. "But I think I'd prefer it if you saved all that fire for me. Just me." He reaches out to gently stroke your cheek.
“You like seeing me upset?”
“I thrive on it every day I come into the office.”
“You’ve never given me a reason to be upset...”
“That’s because all I want to do is please you."
He glances down at your collarbone slipped from your disheveled top, tracing it in memorization. “Your smile is always rewarding to me, especially when it’s directed to only me.”
Your eyes flick up to his while your hands become curious about his body. “So, this word for you…submissive.” You twiddle with the strings of his hood, pulling it as it scrunches around his venous- covered neck. "In what other ways did you want to explore that outside of the workplace again?”
“Well.. just as you would in the office…you make the rules Mrs.Hart.” He grabs onto your hand, conversing almost completely with his own.
Your expression softens briefly at Wooyoung's touch, but then your gaze hardens as you consider his words. You pull back slightly, your hesitation palpable. "That would be... complicated," you murmur, your voice laced with uncertainty. "My reputation, the company... if word got out..."
Wooyoung watches you stand and smooth out your clothes, your movements precise and calculated- disrupting the easy flow. He feels a flicker of confusion, wondering if he's misread the situation entirely. He sits in contemplation, his mind racing with possibilities, trying to understand what's going through your mind.
He swallows hard, his expression serious as he listens to your concerns. "I understand," he says softly, his hand dropping from her cheek to your shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. "And I don't want to put either of us in that situation."
Although his words were assuring, his anxiety betrays him, He decides to approach you cautiously, not wanting to ruin the progress you both made. He stands up and walks over to you, his movements slow and deliberate. He reaches out and gently takes your hand, entwining his fingers with yours.
You breathe out softly and look upon your hand with his in-fitting connection. But then you let it go again. “I might’ve initiated things too quickly, and it isn’t your fault. I like you Wooyoung…maybe too much." You walk over toward the door, holding the handle as an indication of the next step that had to be taken. “Let’s dial this back and call it a night. I’ll see you at work?”
Wooyoung’s heart sinks slightly as you release his hand and step back, your words hitting him like a punch to the gut. He looks at you, searching for your face for any sign of hope, but your expression is resolute. He gets up accordingly, meeting you at the door.
"I'll be heading home now, my boss is counting on me to be well-rested for tomorrow's meeting," He says with a small, forced smile. His eyes, however, betray his true emotions, flickering with a mix of hurt, confusion, and unfulfilled desire.
The door clicks and you breathe out a deep breath your face hardened to obtain.
”Business and pleasure, an easy recipe for disaster.”
🐈⬛🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾
Episode 2
THANK YOU FOR READING.
PLEASE DO NOT COPY MY ORIGINAL WORKS, reblogs are appreciated and accepted. Stealing and modifying my work or publishing out on other platforms is not.
🎀 Sounds kinky right? Well this may sound contrary to traditional belief, but don’t deny what all that you think.
🎀 This here will be my second series in the making, and I am proud to say I thrived in it through it through from beginning to end.
🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾
🐈⬛🎀 SUMMARY: This tantalizing story follows the journey of you, Mrs.Hart of The Better Business Company, and Mr. Wooyoung Jung, your cunning and charismatic business partner. Your dynamic shifts uncontrollably from CEO and employee to passionate lovers- zigzagging the lines between business and pleasure. A recipe for disaster.
🐈⬛🎀 WORD COUNT: TBD
🐈⬛🎀 GENRE: EROTICA, OFFICE ROMANCE, POWER PLAY, VENGEANCE, ZOOMORPHISM.
[TEASER UNDER THE CUT]
🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾
“Dismissed.”, you quip with the click of your tongue. You remain unmoved, calmness frighteningly rooting from where you stand. “Allow your replacement to enter please.”
Mark’s ferocious gaze shuffles between you and what awaits behind the door. He storms to unlock it, his hand flinging dramatically backward as he opens the door to meet his maker.
The new guy balled fist stalls in the air, his eyes darting between you who is dangerously content, and the infuriated Mark. He hesitates to enter, uncertainty written all over his face. "I, uh, I assume I'm not interrupting anything important?" he asks cautiously.
“He’s been dismissed”, you carelessly announce. “You’ll take his place for the time being.” You smile gracously, pleased with the divine timing. Wooyoung Jung was the perfect candidate. Charming with a perfect resume, and similar to you, as you do say so fabulously yourself, looks that could kill.
Mr Jung’s eyes widen slightly, but he quickly composes himself. "I see…though I must admit, I didn't expect to be stepping into this role so soon," he mumbled, walking further into the room. He casts one last glance at Mark before focusing on the person he came to impress.
Next thing you knew the door slams and Mark disappears, making your eyes squeeze shut, and Mr.Jung to tsk. You blink open your eyes upon hearing the noise of disapproval he made, making you all the more intrigued to meet such a character.
With finely cut long black hair, a small, yet intimidating face, and a respectful demeanor- you were considering him platonically attractive at the least. Perhaps it wouldn’t piss you off to see his face in office every weekday.
“I admire the decoration in your office madam. Pink adds a new touch to all things business.” Mr.Jung grins to you with glee and the lack of oppression on his nerves.
“Why…thank you.”, you mumble in surprise. “This is short notice,” you cut in, avoiding elongating pleasant greetings. “I apologize for the ongoing…drama. But if you would like to dismiss yourself, you could follow behind Mark there. The work environment is preferably fast paced.”
Mr.Jung clears his throat, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "No, no, it's quite alright. I'm flattered you've chosen me to fill this role. I assure you, I can keep pace with whatever this position requires." He extends his hand towards you.
You take his hand gesturing for him to sit across from you- where your ex employee took his last stand. "Mark and I have... differing views on how the company should progress." You pause, eyeing Mr.Jung curiously. "I hope this won't be an issue for you.”
Mr.Jung tilts his head as he grins charmingly, his hands slip into each other comfortably on his lap. “Just steer me in the direction you wanna go. No matter where, I’ll always be your right hand man.”
You smile for the first time since Marks presence disspeared from the space. “The expectations are high for you now Mr. Jung. I carry promises like those in the front of my mind.”
His smile widens, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "I won't let you down, Mrs. Hart. I promise I'll prove myself worthy of your high expectations." He pauses momentarily, "And please, call me Wooyoung."
You turn in your chair, grabbing a clip board and pen,sliding it across the desk to him. “Well Wooyoung, I hope you are ready for your first ever buisness meeting.”
…
During the meeting, Wooyoung listens intently to the presentations, asking insightful questions and offering thoughtful suggestions that clearly show he's not just knowledgeable, but also cares deeply about the company's success. You couldn’t help but steal glances at him, impressed by his intuition and outspokenness.
"I understand that we're aiming for a quick turnaround on this project," Wooyoung interjects during a discussion on project timelines. "But I believe we should allocate more resources to quality assurance. Rushing might lead to oversights that could cost us more time and money in the long run."
Then there was a marketing director, presenting a campaign idea that you seemed hesitant about. "I believe we should consider a more digital approach," Wooyoung interjects confidently. "Millennials and Gen Z are our target audience. They're not flipping through magazines or watching TV ads like they used to."
“"He's right,” you chime in, your eyes appreciative as they meet Wooyoung's. "Let's allocate our budget to influencer partnerships and social media ads. And let's discuss this further after the meeting, Wooyoung.”
“This may be the first time in ages a man has kept true to his word with me” you say with a chuckle after the meeting, “you quite literally took the words from my mouth.”
Wooyoung grins, leaning against the edge of your desk. "Well, I try my best to read the room. And you wear your thoughts rather openly on your face, Mrs. Hart."
You find this amusing, considering reading the room is your own unique skill. “I don’t hold back, or rather…I can’t afford too. Although, it was relieving to step back from being the bitchy boss for a change.”
"Well, I'm glad I could help you and take the reins," Wooyoung remarks, his eyes crinkling with amusement. "For what it's worth, I find your honesty refreshing. And I assure you, I can handle the 'bitchy boss'. I thrive under challenge."
You genuinely chuckles and extend your hand for him to take. “Welcome to The “Better Buisness Co, Wooyoung.”
🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾
A/N: This will a a mini series featured on a masterlist with updates. This content contains adult content, therefore, MINORS DNI 🔞. Remember the behavior of WOOYOUNG JUNG in this story is purely fictional and does not represent him as an individual in real life❗️
🚃🍀SUMMARY: Leaving behind those who saw fragments of you was as simple as boarding the next train. Until, that is, an undercover K-pop idol appeared, and the notion of staying put became irresistible.
🚃🍀TAGS/WARNINGS: Yeosang’s Limited English, K-Pop Industry Context, Emotional Turmoil, Mentions of Adoption, Separation Anxiety, Trust Issues, Deception, The Pressure of Stardom, Emotional Intimacy, Shower Smut.
🚃🍀WORD COUNT: 25k
🚃🍀A/N: Apologies for the lengthy hiatus – life happened, and I got derailed for a bit! 🚅 But now I'm back on track, and I've prepared a lengthy read for you all.
[Bold words are in Korean romanization, otherwise is just for emphasis.]
_____________🚂
The train’s whistle pierces through the chilling air, churning the wheels that begin to roll through the boiling steam. A smooth quick chug on the tracks allows you to view the city's landscape in motion from your front-end seating.
The sounds you resonate with, however, are whistles that pierce like your screams. A boiling steam pot of your unleashed rage. Last, but certainly doesn’t hold significance the least, an increasingly fast pace to abandon all youever known before.
Normally one's greatest fear would be the simpler things: heights, spiders, roller coasters…death. But for you, it was acceptance and commitment.
Even though you’ve only met them twice, one thing your parents drilled into you was the instinct to run away. Are you expecting a child? Run away. When it’s born? Run away. When it finds you in hopes you’ve changed to accept them in your ever-loving mind?
You guessed it.
They’d placed you through the foster system for all your nearly uncherished life so you could learn that very lesson. It became the basis of your character, and you were always proclaimed as: “the one who got away.”
Your breath exhausts from relief as your head lies upon the misty-fogged windows. The outside view blurs into blobs of the warm leaves that transform with the fall season in Korea. In an absentminded thought, you trace an array of words, shapes, and patterns-although the fog still remained non-transparent from the outside.
It sucked a bunch for you, because the best thing for your piece of mind is clarity. You turn freely in two cloth embroidered seats and squeeze your eyes shut, hoping that a little rest will rewire your brain from all present memories.
"Excuse me?" Your top lip brushes up in a scowl, and your peace of mind restrains to find peace. Your eyes flutter open in sequence, and just so you can return to your escape, your head tilts towards the tuneless plea emitting from the middle aisle.
An enlarged, stretched-out stomach ironically meets your eye level gaze, but looking up, of course, it belonged to a natural-born woman. Right next to her, is a natural-born man, who evidently shoots all his balls in one basket.
"Would you mind if my wife and I took your seats?” The male of the pair inquires with a desperate grin, rubbing onto his unborn child. “I'd like to make boarding off as easy as possible.” His soothing rubs contrast with a firm tap. “She'll pop any day now!"
She scoffs and does the playful chest slap while they laugh together-as all couples do in any lifetime movie you can name.
"I'd appreciate it, hun”, she begins. “We were squeezing into a seat in the back. It's still available if you wanna grab it.”
Oh. Great.
You pay extra money for two-ticket seating- purposely done so for your space and privacy, and now you have to pass it on to the lady and the tramp-and in terms of moralities, it’s the proper thing to do.
In an attempt to be insightful, you gaze at them, and then the unborn child the dear woman’s back has to bear for nearly 9 or 10 months. They appear to be a loving couple. That they'd do anything to ensure their child lives comfortably, even without it taking its first breath of fresh air.
So you come to terms with fighting against your mental battles, and give up your space because ‘it’s the right thing to do’. Just not necessarily your thing to do. But you have your reasons.
"Of course, it’s all yours for the taking.", you say with an irregular smile.
"Thank you, so much." The husband puts his hands together as if to show gratitude for an answered prayer. "You really didn't have to”, the pregnant wife adds. “Thank you for your kindness.”
'I did it for it. Not you two.'
“Of course”!, you say, waddling awkwardly like a penguin in the confined space to get into the aisle way and behind them, “Congratulations to you both!”
The loving couple's faces adorned with firm smiles settle happily into their your seats.
You travel back towards the caboose, searching for the seat the couple claimed to have saved for you.
Eventually, after many tribulations of accidental eye contact, and excuse me's through the train cars- you found the seat saved for you- all the way in the back.
The journey to the caboose gave you a visual of how loaded the ride is with passengers. By all means, it makes sense as to why the couple traveled to your end in hopes of finding a better seat.
You sigh as you finally make it, and then a bigger sigh follows when you find what looks to be an astounding private model-looking guy alone in the seat-tuning out the world with Airpod Max Pros and a chapter book. He's dressed snugly for the change of weather: a teddy bear hat and coat jacket monochromatic to his fluffy brown hair-along with a face mask to prevent attraction to any floating illnesses.
"Excuse me...?” Oh, the irony. You sound just like the seat freaks did a moment ago. Although your voice is clear through his headphones, and his ability to speak isn’t hindered through his mask- the brunette-haired man takes them off out of respect. “Do you mind if I sit here?”, you bunglingly mutter. “There's not any other seats left for me to choose from." You give a small smile, looking around sheepishly.
He turns up his book, one of your favorite novels, and his eyes relocate your own with the same awkward smile. "No, not at all. Please, sit comfortably."
"Thank you so much!” You plopped down in the aisle seat, for some reason, your breath had become irregular in the moment. “Sorry to be a bother."
He shakes his head, now smiling cutely with all his facial features playing their special part in his charm. “No, don't bother. It’s good manner what you did for baby-couple.“ He then covers his belly with his book for visual context. So not only was this guy good looking, and just the cutest English speaker ever, he had the most humanistic nature you’d ever come across in your lifetime.
“Of course, thanks for passing it on”, you note cheerfully.
He nods with his intimate gaze that entices you for just a moment, and soon his derailed attention returns to his book. The train gradually picks up on mileage as time passes, and the scenery outside blurs into a blue-green and brown haze.
At that time, you took notice of “Model-Man’s” readjustment to his previous content state. He pulls his weight on his backrest, allowing his shoulders to fall and brush lightly against yours. As the train rumbles onwards, the two of you sit in compatible silence.
“Nice to meet you by the way. I'm Y/n.”
You don't know what urges you to make the approach. You just ran away from this. Familiarity. But in some way, you feel compelled to know who this man is.
With a sparkle in his eye, he turns to bow his head in your direction, before the alienating culture shock of him crossing his hand over to proceed his greeting. "Nice to meet you. I'm Yeosang!"
You’ve never heard anyone enthusiastically introduce themselves, but it gave off a fine impression. You take his hand with an expression spooked from the unexpected grip pressure. The exchange of contact is cut short when all you can do is nod, feeling nearly numb from his delicate touch.
He flips to another page as he returns to reading, but then again, you cannot help to resist the urge.
“That's a very well-written book you're reading Yeosang. The author is my top three mystery storytellers.”
His face lights up with delight, clearly pleased by your uncalled interest. “Ah, Really? I'm big fan of this author too. I read all of their books so many times.” He looks at you with a curious expression. “What is your favorite?”
“Hmmm”, you shortly ponder in thought. “The Siren sequel is pretty good. The ending is such a cliffhanger though”, you scoff with a chuckle.
His nose crinkles in amusement as he laughs softly, then nods in agreement. “Ah~, it's my favorite too! Ending is so uh…” he then cuts himself off, stirring up his hand to search for the word, “wow”.
You give him a comedic thumbs for his adorable efforts and your understanding in agreement. “I need more story!”, he begs with pleasing hands, “please author.”
You lay your palm out flat to play into your beckoning. “That'll be another $47.99 please!”
Yeosang giggles with a veining hand covering his cute lisp. “Yes, so expensive, but…” he pauses with a nod as he looks downward at the book in his hands. “I love it.”
Your eyes follow downward toward the book, and the text you recognize is fully written in Korean. It came as no surprise of course given it was the country you were currently in.
“Yeah, I think so too,” you comment, “But, I also love it.” His head tilts back with a ‘hmmm’ to accommodate your interest. Just before he could see if it was okay to read again-
you. just. could not. resist.
“If you don't mind me asking, Yeosang. Where are you from?”
What! It never hurt too bad to ask! You were in Incheon, Korea, coming from Itaewon: the ultimate partying hotspot for foreigners, now departing on a five-hour train ride to Busan. Just based on the looks of this guy- you could just determine he was not the party type.
“Oh…I come from Seoul, here in Korea. But I’m born in Pohang.” When he’s done speaking his cheeks swell up and his face brightens with red color. “My English is not so good, sorry.”
“No, no, you’re doing great!” You exclaim as you wave worrying hands in his downturned line of sight. His eyes swivel back up again, and he tunes back into conversation. “I lived in Itaewon for two years, but my Korean is not that good either.”
“Ah, jinjjaro? Or…jakkaman, aish-, in his boyish nature the tongue-tied cutie loudly smacks himself in shame. Sorry…really?”
(“Ah, for real? Or…wait a second shi-“)
You giggle in a long bit and swat his hand softly from his red sweet cheeks. “Ya, Gwenchanayo! Hajiman, ne jinjjaro.”
(Hey, it’s okay! But, yes really.)
Yeosang eyes bloom adorably in surprise, and his whole body is now turned in his seat aligning with your line of direction toward him. “Ooh, you're Korean!! It’s so good!”
“No! I promise you it's not. Your English is honestly much better than my Korean.”
“No, no.”, he politely contradicts.
You laugh off your undetermined loss with a smile. You know from experience that it’s a never-ending contest with natives of ‘who learns languages better’.
“Guereom. (Well then.) Enjoy your book, Yeosang.” You kindly bow your head before positioning yourself up to turn over in your seat like you had before. Although the conversation was swell, you desperately needed a recharge from a thing called the shitty events of life. “Don’t mind me! I’ll be taking a much-needed nap.”
Similarly, your sudden brush off the conversation made Yeosang non-admittedly yearn for it a bit more. At first, he thought it would be good practice to use English on his solo trip in case he ran into foreigners like yourself. But he didn't expect his first connection to be so energetically strong.
You wink childishly to your fluffy-haired acquaintance before fully showing him your back to sleep.
His expression molten into one of worry. He reaches out to touch your arm, but winces in hesitation and fear. “That's okay. Sleep well.”
With your eyes closed, you admire his politeness and drift off into one nap of many you planned for this long journey without a destination pinpoined in any map. “Hmm. Ne~”
During your nap, Yeosang continues to be entranced into the fictional reality that is one of his favorite books and yours. But his attention keeps wandering back to you. He finds himself studying your face, when you sleepily turn back over. The gentle rise and fall of your chest looks calming. The way your hair fell across your forehead seemed elegant, and the comfy wool material of your hoodie correlated to the warmness of your interaction.
At some point, the analyzing eventually makes the sleepiness contagious, and Yeosang boards to the next stop into the dreamworld with you.
…
After what was about an estimate of your two-hour nap, the train rails screech to a stop into a 30-minute interval period for all newly boarding passengers, and for those who made arrival.
It was also the service attendant's perfect timing to offer snacks to long-riding passengers.
Yeosang, who has already noticed the cease in movement wakes up from his nap. One side of his hair was teased into a hump from his sleeping habits. As if he was already aware, he pats it flat with half-closed eyes.
The cart had shockingly made its way quickly to your section which you know to be unheard of. You are in the butt end, the crunch spot, the lifetime-couple-trade-special.
You communicate with the attendant about your wants and she tells you you are fine to accommodate yourself in getting. How sweet it would’ve been if all the goodies weren’t gone already.
As you were freely choosing in your pickings, the attendant had gotten preoccupied with a worried passenger's barging questions about the stop. Their behavior were that of a child who lacked discipline. You weren’t even trying to hide your mean mugging, appearing like a rabid dog ready to prowl.
As if it were another treat to calm your nerves, you heard a raspy, calming voice inquire, “I need drink please.”
You blink out of frustration and turn to the even more seemingly impossible, increasingly adorable, and tired ‘teddy bear man’. “Oh, I’m so sorry Yeosang! What do you need?”
His eyes open stickily as he peers over his remaining options which are little to none. “Water, please?” You scan your head up and down the cart in hopes of seeing water, and thankfully the last bottle had been hidden in between an empty box of granola bars.
“Here you go.” You gesture as if the bottle was on a silver platter.
“Kansamida.” (Thanks.) He retrieves the bottle from your hand with a slight bow. His thirst became perceivable in one go as his mask slips from his face and on top of his Adam’s Apple, bobbing with every sip.
Just when the moment of peace began to still, the conflict between the attendant and passenger arose, causing both you and Yeosang to scowl at the ill-mannered passenger in the matter.
The overhead speaker cuts over the rowdiness, queuing: “Attention KTX (KOREAN TRAIN EXPRESS) passengers!” Unfortunately, we had abruptly gotten notice of another one of our train routes experiencing a derail with injurious passengers due to a faulty signal. It is in our best interest for your safety that we take precautions, even when this situation indirectly affects this route. Therefore, we will terminate this train ride to Busan….”
“I’m sorry but-, Yeosang began to say.
The speaker then cuts moments after, and this time in a Korean translation.
“Ah…got it.”, he finishes.
With the unfortunate news announced overhead you both and many others had to prepare to get off the train. Apparently passengers in the front get treated like royalty, they hear the news before everyone else, making it convenient in preparations to leave. It especially took the longest because you were in the back, and you also had to retrieve your luggage from the attendants in the last car when you got off.
Despite the drastic situation, oddly all you could think about was how you and Yeosang could end things off so suddenly. It irked you to have the desire to know more.
Just as you were handed off your miniature luggage of belongings, you took in the not-so-new environment. It was a shared home of many you used to know.
Yeosang was coming towards you as you pondered the lost past, his eyes beading with a pleasing want for guidance. He was so used to being accompanied in times like these.
“Excuse me…Y/n?“
You turn faster than a pro ballet dancer, slightly tumbling on your toes. There was also his change in appearance that startled you with his black face mask. “Hello again! How can I help you Yeosang?”
Surely this hadn’t been the place he had wished to stop by as he looked around nervously- utterly bewildered by the change of environment.“Do you know this place? I am not, I am…erm-lost?”, it came out more as a question as he juggles his hand as he speaks, eyes wandering near and far.
“I do know this place…um, I stayed at an Airbnb with my friends… plenty of times”, you say bitterly.
“Oh, good!” He jumps with delight and major relief. The news to him couldn’t get any sweeter. “So fun!”The second emotion he doesn’t show however is he nods while his eyes continuously wander, hands on his hips.
“Do you need anything? You seem a little worried.”
“Uh…yes” he admits in defeat. His puppy eyes become trained on you once again. “This is not my stop. So I want to find place to sleep. I’m so very tired.”
“Uh…, you begrudgingly drag out, watching as the conductor steps off from his seat, their hands suck on their hips as they pitifully inspect the trains structure. “Yeah, it doesn’t look like the train will be running anytime soon”, you remark, turning to him with a hopeful grin. “But, at least I can help you.”
“Ah!”, he joyfully claps in excitement, “Thank you so much!” He bows in ninety degrees. “Uh, will you also stay here?”, he asks.
‘That’s a great question, you thought. My mind was so trained on you, everything else became senseless mush.’ “I might go to that Airbnb…or maybe, a cheap hotel? I’m not sure yet…”
“Ah…”, he says in an untelling tone.
“Well, how about you? Where will you sleep?”
“Probably…same as you.” He nods.
In your mind, you severely needed more context but you decided to not let it go there. “Okay, sounds good! Ready?”
Even the escalators didn’t operate, which was a pain in your pre-existing pain. In this circumstance, you had to hike two 25-pound suitcases up a wide public staircase.
Just when you thought you had it bad, Yeosang quadrupled you with the weight of 200 pounds, or four full-sized suitcases.
You pause on the seventh stairs to take notice of the man’s struggles. He somehow managed not to tread too far behind, but you were blessed enough to know struggle when you saw it.
“Ya, nahante geugeo jwo.”
(“Hey, give me that”)
You took two of his suitcases off his hands. Which tips your scale to one hundred fifty and Yeosang, one hundred.
He looked around in embarrassment because, in his eyes and probably many others, you looked like an angry partner helping the other out of annoyance. Yeosang was not gonna further push that motive by playing tug of war with you on a staircase. Although, for clarity, you were more so determined than annoyed.
“Gomawo.” He whispers, slightly pulling forth his mask.
(“Thank you.”)
Your struggles to the top were made easier because you were farther ahead, but it made breathing manual rather than automatic.
Once you’ve finally reached the terminals, you double over, utilizing the suitcase handles in front of the nonworking escalators to let others through.
Yeosang sticks to your side not long after with a shaking hand making small taps on your backside. The kind you would give a friend in times in vulnerability. Steady, firm, yet…gentle.
You look up to him, seemingly calm with shallow breaths. In between gasps you hold up a momentary smile in the delayed awkwardness.
At a time you turn your head back down, Yeosang leans in to mumble, “There is fountain, and drink machine that’s close.”
Although the suggestion sounded delightful, the way your day had been going made you in need of something more fulfilling. “Not- gonna lie to you…Nan yeonjonhi…baegopa.”
(“I’m still…hungry”).
Yeosang removed his hand and took a step back. When it was placed on his belly, his body growled in response. “Heum, nado…”
(“Hmm, me too…”)
“Mwo jom meogeullae?”
(“Do you wanna grab a bite to eat?”)
“Ne, ha-hajiman eodiseo?”
(“Sure, b-but where?”)
“Gaja!” (“Let’s go!”) You point aimlessly, taking all various sized suitcases ahead with you.
Once you two found an overly priced taxi which Yeosang generously insisted on paying for, you were Google searching your favorite brunch spot in the area. You show it to Yeosang by reaching over into his side utilizing the cup holder for support. “Looks good?”
“Yes, Masisseo bonida!”
(“Yes, it looks delicious!”)
You giggle quietly at his cute lisps slipping through the “s” sounds.
“Arraseo!”
(Got it!)
At first, you thought Yeosang had some sort of VIP subscription to the whole taxi transportation industry. Only in Korea can you find a driver who waits for you to finish eating with your bags in his trunk.
You suggest having brunch outside when you arrive at the brunch spot, which causes Yeosang to disagree with you for the first time since you’ve met. “No, inside. Back corner please”, he said.
It was a lot more calm you must admit, and the noise of clinking plates and aromas of fresh food made his first experience more lively. You were only ever quizzical with his decisions however when it came to eating. He kept his mask on the entire time- only pulling away to eat his food when needed.
It was your suggestion in an earlier conversation that led to you paying the bill. Besides how rude would it be to have him pay for a lunch you eagerly wanted him to try? Not to mention, he got you both here.
The two of you walk outside the restaurant with warm stomachs contrast to the still chill that bites the tips of your ears, and along the sidewalk toward your parked taxi.
Your attention was once again drawn to your phone as you tried to figure out what to do about your sleeping situation. The Airbnb bookings were already filled for the next week, and you could only offer Yeosang so much space for his luggage.
You didn’t know how long he was staying but with the train station shut down and under maintenance-you both had quite a long way from Busan.
“Ai-seu-keu-lim…”, your ears and eyes perk up to give notice to the wind-blown haired man beside you. His tracks slow to a stop as his eyes are coated in a glaze.
“Ai-seu-? Keu-lim? Ice cream?” You decipher uncertainly, only to find a delicious Samanco strawberry ice cream waffle sandwich on a convenience store's window with a small chunk bitten from it.
“Okay! Let’s get ice cream! My treat.” The two of you rush for the door with the excitement of children entering a candy store.
“Yea, woo-hoo~, Yeosang childishly shouts upon walking in the mini connivence shop. Oh, annyeonghaseyo!” You giggle in endearment at Yeosang's embarrassment and slightly bow to the store owner to give the same greeting.
You both speedily walk in a darted line for the strawberry Samanco, but when Yeosang got a look at the frozen item in your hands along with the other options deep in the freezer- he started contemplating for a bit of time. “It seems like you changed your mind, Yeosang.”
He blinks rapidly to avert his focus onto you for reassurance. “Aniyo (“No.”), I think I will also get strawberry fish. But, driver I also want to buy.”
Your heart melts at his selflessness, another positive trait that makes him even more charming. “Awe really? Well, maybe he’ll like the strawberry one too. Melona is also another good option. Everyone likes that.”
“Okay!” He shouts with newfound confidence. “Driver will get…Melona!” He picks up the frozen treat and carries it with his own.
He looks to you searching for approval which you give him even without him prompting you to. “Nice choice, Yeosang!”
You both settle back in the taxi munching away at the flaky breading, sickenly-sweet strawberries, and creamy vanilla ice cream.
With a little push, you encouraged Yeosang to pass the selected extra treat to the driver. He provided the offering with shaking hands, making both you and the driver fall deeper for his charm.
“Taegsi Gisanim (“Mr.Taxi Driver”)” Yeosang politely calls to the man quickly bitting into his Melona. “Can you take us to the best hotel please?” Yeosang unzips his jacket, and fishes a plentiful stack of won from his inter pocket into the drivers hand.
You nearly choke on a swallowing bit of your ice cream, coughing as you tap Yeosang’s toned shoulders. “Ya neo mwohae?”
(“Hey, what are you doing Yeosang?”)
“Let me please…don’t worry.” he begs with pressed hands, “For your kindness.”
You were too heartfelt to deny him, it wasn’t the right place, nor the time.
As the driver began to drive to your new destination, you continued to bite into the tasty treat, slightly taking notice more of Yeosang’s off-standish behaviors. Like the way he would duck anytime he felt a car came too close. You look him fully from your seat in curiosity and see the silly amounts of strawberry filling on the tip of his nose, the plump of his cheek, and the corner of his lips.
“Yaaaa, jinjja? How long are you gonna keep eating like that?”
(“Hey, seriously?”)
With an expression mixed with fear and surprise, Yeosang started at you mindlessly.
“M-mwoya?”
(“What is it?”)
You feign in your irritancy, that there was no way you could be with someone as innocent and clueless as he was.
“How did you even manage to get it all over your face? Don’t you feel that?” He shakes his head promptly, ignorant of the jelly clumps on his beautiful face.
You turn over into the inside of your door, finding a box of tissues and tossing them in his direction. You grab your own from the box, swiping in places on your face to provide a demonstration.
Although he manages to miss every stain by a mere few inches. That’s when you decided to step in and just do it for him. Your hand, crumpling up a soft tissue rests just a small distance from his face.
“Can I…?”
He nods as he leans in close, his eyes trying to find interest in the roof from your close distance. Even the driver takes small peeps at the small intimacy you share, denoting it as the start of something good.
As you pull your hand away with a folded tissue, Yeosang eyes linger back, staring at the smeared red jelly, and scrunches his lips uplifting his perky cheekbones.
“Ah, I feel it!” He eagerly gestured towards his face, eyes sparkling with amusement.
“Yeah now you do you silly boy!”
“Oh no!” He says with small giggles, “how long jelly?”
“Since your first bite Yeosang, and tons of people have already driven by and seen it!”
"Ah, that's why I see so many eyes," Yeosang mumbles, looking around at the passing cars with a look that changes in tension. “Yeah you goofball, what else would it be?”
“You’re right…” he playfully slaps himself on the back of his neck as some sort of self-punishment. “I don’t know what I was thinking.”
“Ya Yeosang-ie. Gwenchanha?”
(“Hey Yeosang-ie. Are you okay?”)
“Ne.”, he remarks, eyes cast downward.
That’s when it strikes him so he takes on the guilt, his eyes immediately lock in yours. “My members say that all the time, my family members I mean. I- is hard to control.”
“Your family in Pohang?”, you verify in remembrance,
“Mm.”, he confirms.
Maybe it was just nervousness, or paranoia from this new place. In any case, he still worried you.
On the way out of the car, you didn’t even have to carry your luggage to the elevators. The staff just asked that you settle in comfortably while your luggage will be at your doors shortly. In no time flat, you were given room keys.
The gleaming mahogany doors swung open, ushering you into a grandeur that could only be described as breathtaking. Your eyes were immediately drawn to the opulent crystal chandelier hanging majestically from the ceiling, its myriad facets catching the sunlight and casting prismatic reflections across the marble floor.
The lobby stretched out before you, an expansive space that exuded an air of sophistication and old-world charm. Plush, burgundy velvet couches and armchairs were artfully arranged on the polished parquet, inviting guests to linger and bask in the refined atmosphere.
Omo, ige “Crazy Rich Asians” ingayo?, you swallow, your pupils dilating in full, marveling at the wonders you thought you’d never seen in your lifetime.
(Oh My, is this “Crazy Rich Asians”?)
Yeosang's eyes widened as he watched you bow to the locals, their bewildered expressions making him giggle.
Babogat-i gulji ma. Naleul ttalawa.
( “Don’t be silly. Follow me.”)
“Yeosang…this is crazy!”, you whisper over his shoulders in a hushed voice.
Gwenchanheul geoya. Geogjeonghaji maseyo.
(It will be fine. Don’t worry.)
As you step into the elevator, you're enveloped in a sense of sleek luxury. The walls are clad in rich, dark wood, while the floor is made of gleaming black marble. The elevator doors feature ornate, gold-plated handles shaped like lions' heads.
The hallways are equally impressive, lined with plush, crimson carpet that softly muffles the sound of footsteps. The walls are adorned with exquisite artwork, each piece a masterpiece from a renowned artist.
Once you and Yeosang make it in front of your respective dorms, your bags are ready and waiting. Before you looked inside he beckoned for your attention with a calm hand on your shoulder. “My room okay? Call me for help. I call you too.”
With a gentle smile, you turn to face Yeosang, appreciating his thoughtfulness. You ale your hand to cover his on your shoulder before it spent slips away. "Thank you for this Yeosang. Same goes for you – if you need anything, just call."
Yeosang grins wider, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "I will! Sweet dreams, and have a good night!”
He gives your shoulder a final squeeze before letting his hand drop. With a wave, he disappears into his room, leaving you boy to part ways for the time being.
…
LATER THAT NIGHT…
After being surprised with a pre prepared bath in rose petals- you began to question why you’re hear and what you actually deserve. Just as you reached for the phone for Yeosang, you heard four consecutive knocks on your door. “Room service!”
A confused “ne” escapes from your voice as a butler presents you with a white-skirted table with metal-covered cuisines.
You watch as he fishes silverware and napkins from his aprons pocket while you’re cowering in your robe in the nearest corner.
He smiles at you briefly as his hands falls flat on the sides of his thighs. “Jeulgyeo!”
(“Enjoy!”)
Then just like that he walks out like he never came in.
You uncover the plates and see the steak, pasta, and chocolate-covered strawberries….
Food you never ordered.
You immediately call Yeosang.
“Yeoboseyo?”, his voice breaks in, chewing what might be his delivered food in between as he spoke.
(“Hello?”)
“Yeosang…I think your food accidentally came to my room.”
“Oh, no” , he politely denies. “I order food for you. You don’t like it?”, he says In a reassuring tone, voice lingering with worry.
“Oh no no no, I just, I didn’t...” You sigh in defeat, eyes marbling at the magnificent presentations of the dishes. “Thank you so much, i do like it…but you didn’t have to. You know?”
A breath of relief blows in the other side of line. “It's okay. I want for you because you're so very kind to me.”
Guilt and gratefulness battle in your heart, fighting for the appropriate feeling to your fortunate situation. “Thank you Yeosang. This is all so unreal.”
“You’re welcome!” he playfully shouts. “I will wash up and we sleep for morning, okay?”
“Okay have a good night! Thank you again.”-
“Ne~, jeulgyeo!”
(“Yes~, enjoy!”)
The meal you had was a foreign experience for your tastebuds while the water pressure of the shower opened up your deepest pores.
_____________🚂
Walking up in the hotel room couldn’t even be fully defined in the phrase of ‘out-of-body’. The first things your eyes see is a masterclass in understated elegance. You're greeted by a plush, king-sized bed draped in luxurious silk sheets the color of rich cream. The bed frame is made of intricately carved mahogany, matching the elegant side tables that flank the bed.
A seating area near the window boasts a plush, L-shaped sofa upholstered in a complementary shade of burgundy velvet, with a glass coffee table bearing a vase of fresh, long-stemmed roses.
The room's pièce de résistance, however, is the grand, marble fireplace set into the wall opposite the bed. A fire crackles merrily within, casting a warm, inviting glow over the space. Above it hangs a gilded mirror, reflecting the dancing flames and amplifying the cozy atmosphere.
You're sitting in bed, dressed warmly for the chilly weather, when you hear a knock on your door. In your mind you have not a clue on what the day lies ahead.
Your new next-door neighbor, the charmingly-clueless-teddy tear Yeosang is behind it of course. Yet only he looks different, his face more natural and bare. His mask still lies on his face, but for the time being it rests on his chin.
“Good Morning!” He tilts and springs to his feet with surprise.
You smile briefly before further marveling at his gorgeous face, your eyes beaming as you notice a large red mark near his right eye. “Oh my…wait? Wait…Yeosang, I think you’re bleeding!”
He looks at you with widening eyes, looking over his own body
“Omo, eodi?”.
(“Oh no, where?”)
He slightly panics as his eyes flutter, but his body comes to a standstill as he lets you spectate.
The ideas that come to your mind are plundering, but only a few present themselves in your words. “I think it’s pink eye…but it’s outside, and not in? Oh no. What if it’s a ruptured blood clot?!”
“Eodi, eodi?”
(“Where, where?”)
Yeosang repeats, the word ruptured spooking him fairly enough.
Your face is saddened as you slowly reach to touch his wound. “It’s right…here.”
“Ow!”, He hisses in pain, his body tensing before bending over to coddle himself while holding his hand over the mark.
“Oh no! Did that hurt? Yeosang I’m so sorry I-” All of a sudden you hear small giggles wrack over his tall body.
“Yeosang! Why are you laughing you lunatic?”, you whisper-shout, voice laced with concern.
“Forgive me please!” He pleads in between dying giggles. He daps his fingers over the mark, proving it to be a permanent part of his natural body. “It’s just my birthmark, I’m okay!”
A quick exhale is relief from your lungs, your face fading to be expressionless. “Ugh, you scared me! And you kept swatting me away…I thought you were really in pain!”
He takes a step back to bow in apology. “Sorry, I meant for this only to be small joke.”
Your lips frown slightly as you watch his body droop with shame- causing your hand to fly to your chest as your heart drops in guilt. “You scared me half to death. Here I was, worrying about your eye, and it's just... a part of you."
“Sorry.” His mouth fumbles in a pout. You watch as his feet swivel into the floor, as if he were trying to bury himself to be seen from your sight.
“It’s okay, don’t worry. It’s beautiful by the way. The longer I stare at it, it shapes into something new.” You say mostly to yourself, given that Yeosang was shying away even after his little stunt. “How do you feel about it? Your birthmark?”
His timid look takes on an entirely different feel, one of self reflection. “I never really think about it but my fans they…” he trails off suddenly, then stuttering as he revises his sentence. “I mean my family, they always tell me it’s really pretty.”
You didn’t think too much when he mixed upthe two words, but you gave him the benefit of your doubts. English obviously didn’t come to him naturally. “Well, they must love you because they don't lie to you.”
His eyes then soften as he mentions his family further, his voice merely a whisper quieter than the wind in this early morning. “Yeah, I'm lucky to have them in my life.”
“That you are, but, everybody needs that kind of love.”
Yeosang nods slowly, a wistful expression on his face as he ponders your words. “How about you? Who do you love that in your life?”
At first you just shake your head in embarrassment, avoiding the spotlight that beamed on you to answer. Especially as you are the one that shined it upon yourself. But then you look into his curious shining eyes and sigh. “It’s just me.”
Yeosang's expression turns thoughtful, and he tilts his head slightly, his eyes searching yours. “Everybody needs love, and someone will see you to give you some of theirs.”
Your body freezes as you grow startled. It was his most fluent sentence yet, and the most impactful. You stretch your arms above your head, arching your back slightly as if shaking off the moment's seriousness. You then falsely yawn, disguising your mouth with the back of your hand. "It's too early for all these feels. Where are we going today?”
Yeosang blinks a few times, his earlier vulnerability replaced with a gentle smile. He rubs the back of his neck, and his shoulders shrink back down to their relaxed state. "Let’s eat hotel breakfast first, then we talk about todays activities,” he says some time afterward, his voice regaining some of its usual warmth.
…
After breakfast the two of you decided what better way to begin our day besides to check the place that got us stuck here?
The train station.
As the both of it approach the train station, it's no surprise as it is still under high maintenance. Feeling a bit disappointed, you both decide to sit on a nearby bench to rest.
You take in the bustling colorful leaves wrestled by the wind, the slightly cool but bearable chills, and a cute scruffy white cat that mewls and walk toward you both across the tracks.
“Aigooo, gwiyeoun jag eun- goyangi~. Yeosang childishly babbles.
(“Oh my goodness, a cute little kitty.”)
“I mean…” he quickly tries to cover his mouth as you begin to snicker. “Hajima!” He shouts with the prettiest pout.
“Neo, gwiyeowo Yeosang-ie!”, you say playfully poking his reddened cheeks that are soft to the touch.
(“You’re so cute Yeosang-ie!”)
His attention continues to be drawn to the cat as you playfully coddle him. He began tapping on your arm, and initially you thought that he was embarrassed. However, he kept on going then pointed in front of you. Hilariously, the cat pauses and watches your sudden silly actions with confusion.
“Oh…” you whisper as you pause in your teasings. “Let me not scare it.” You grab onto his coat sleeve, pulling him off the bench with you as your knees hover over the ground. “Get low.”
The cats eyes follow through with both of your flows in movement, it’s eyes gloss over with a color changing sheen. “Oh my, its eyes look so scary”, Yeosang notes.
“Well, its body language says otherwise”, you kindly inform him. “Its tail is straight up with a little curl at the end.” Your pointer finger bend as you trace its tail in sight. “That means it feels friendly.”
“Oh really?!” He merrily exclaims, leaning up further to inspect the animal. “Dook dook dook~,” he clicks his tongue, trying to regain its interest. “Nice to meet you Friendly, I’m Yeosang~”
Awed by him, you ask the long-haired animal to join you both. “'Mere friendly come, come!”
“Meow~” It seems to have an effect as it turns its direction-walking toward the bench. When it approaches, it pauses its fierce struts to decide who to go, and ultimately, Yeosang wins in favor. His touches are delicate with just the small back of his pointer finger. The pretty white cat's backside arched with delight, snuggling between the both of you and purring.
“Are you cat whisperer?” He mutters, watching as its head turns over in your lap.
“Well look at who’s talking after being the chosen one to a stray cat.” In Yeosang’s hold, it turns on its back showing its belly as a sign of trust. You knew animals could sense people’s spirits, and not for a second did you doubt its judgment.
“I was a previous owner of one,” You suddenly speak, easily regaining Yeosang’s listening ears. “Her name was Clementine, an orange tabby cat.”
He hums as he listens attentively, reaching his hand to stroke the kitty’s tummy. “Where’s Clementine now?”
As you point to the gray clouds in the sky, you remark, "Cloud surfing" then momentarily adding, "Kidney disease.” You whispered softly to yourself, "No wonder she drank so much water."
He turns toward you, eyes raking over the side of your sorrowed face. “At least Clementine can be in meow meow paradise now. Eating all the fishes- and scratching all the furniture she wants.”
You burst into fits of laughter, turning to Yeosang and budging him over playfully with your shoulder. “Oh gosh, you’re right. She loved doing all of that!”
A heavy sigh escapes your lips as you grow fond of the elegant cat lying on your lap. “At least we can enjoy Friendly here together now, and eventually he and Clementine will be cloud surfing forever together in meow meow paradise.”
“Best friends.”, Yeosang adds quickly from his thoughts.
“This is so worth getting rabies for.”, you teasingly reply. Easing the incoming intensity. Yeosang laughs deeply, each noise filled with joy.
“Seonsyain!” (“Sunshine!”) A voice belonging to an older woman rings across the tracks, walking quickly as she heads towards the bench the kitty springs up from.
(“Thank you so much! He always wondering off and meeting strangers.”)
“O geulae? Nan neol mideul su eobso Seonsyain!”
(“Oh is that so? I can’t believe you Sunshine!”)
Yeosang sass with his hand on his hips, only mockingly pretending to be upset. “Imposter!” Yeosang points and shouts, making Sunshine scurry away to his rightful owner.
The elder lady scoops him up and coddles him like a newborn child, and he turns his head in her chest.
She swaddles Sunshine as he tweedles off her small coos, glancing back up at the both of you sitting side by side.
“Neohui duleun hamkke gwiyeobda. Keopuel iseyeo?”
(“You two are cute together. Are you a couple?”)
The synchronization in which you both bulge eyes at one another makes it seem as if your next words are a tale.
(Must be fairly new then…? Well, it was nice to meet you. Say bye Sunshine.”)
Sunshine lacked the decency to even look in your guys' direction. As if he hadn’t been rubbing feverishly between the both of you minutes ago.
As you both part ways on opposite sides of the tracks, scolding and high-pitched meows echo in the distance. You let out a giggle when it was safe, nudging a light elbow jab into Yeosang’s biceps. “What do you think about that?”
“Oh well it was unexpected but…” he says thinking about the word “couple”, as a label settling so easily onto you two.
“No seriously, I can’t believe Sunshine only pretended to be friendly after all! Still, I can’t deny it, he’s just too cute.”
Yeosang’s hand graces right in the area your elbow nudges him, rubbing it soothingly. “It’s a bit cold right?”
Your eyebrows furrow. With only a half hour gone by, and the meeting of a fluffy white cat, you had just noticed the blowing wind carrying a slight chill.
“Yeah…it’s gotten worse since we’ve got here. Right in the middle of the season change.” Just then the hairs on your neck become prickly, running an uncontrollable shiver down your spine. “I could go for a hot cocoa, or even boba...”
Following your suggestion, Yeosang turns in his seat and regains consciousness from his perplexed thoughts. “Oh, that’s right! Like a…goyangi cape?” Yeosang happily exclaims.
(“...cat cafe?”)
“Yes, that’s perfect! Well done, Yeosang!”, you praise. At this rate, any idea of his was always a bright one. You honestly just love the way his eyes shine after you compliment him. “You still trust cats after this?”
“Oh well actually…”, he says as his hand come to stroke his cloth covered chin, “I have mind change…”
“I’m kidding!”, you playfully cry. “It does sound warm and snuggly though. We could go”, you propose.
“Okay then,” Yeosang declares, let’s find real friendly goyangi and drink delicious drinks!”
“Yay!’”, you shout as you parade happily off the bench. Yeosang just joyfully followed you along, as you waved for the next taxi. Yeosang despite the weather felt warm inside to see where the next adventure could take the two of you.
…
As you both enter the cafe, the soft glow of the pendant lights hanging from the ceiling casts a warm, inviting ambiance. The walls are adorned with art of various cats in adorable poses. A calming aroma of lavender and freshly ground coffee beans welcomes the both of you.
Despite the cafe being packed with patrons, the atmosphere remains surprisingly calm and orderly. Customers chat softly as they sip their drinks, some engrossed in conversation while others play with the curious felines weaving between the tables.
Yeosang carefully pulls you to sit at a small table near the walls behind a ceiling to floor beam-pulling down his beanie further over his eyes. He even grabs a side piece of his hair, patting the right side to sit directly on his birthmark.
You fidget with the hem of your sleeve, eyes darting around the bustling cafe. It's not the crowd that unnerves you, but the fear that derives from Yeosang. You tap the table twice, causing his head to perk up as you force a smile. You level your fingers up and down your torso, taking a deep breath- trying to push down the familiar flutter of anxiety in both of your chests.
The barista, a cheerful young woman with cat ears on her headband, notices the both of you and walks over. “Whiskers & Beans osin geoseul hwanyeonghabnida!” Jeoneun Mochi inbnida.”
( “Welcome to Whiskers & Beans!' 'I'm Mochi.”)
The two of you greet her in the opposite mood of her cheerful state. Considering she was the one at work, everything felt severely displaced.
“Oh annyeongsaeho…”, you nervously bow in greeting.
(“Oh, hello…”)
“Ne.” She commends. “Masigo sipeun geosi isseubnikka? Keopi? Boba?”
(“Is there anything you would like to drink?” Coffee? Boba?”)
“Erm…” You look to Yeosang who hasn’t even spared the woman a glance. Which you hope may conclude that he hasn’t came to a decision yet? You couldn’t be sure yourself. “I’ll have a strawberry popping boba with strawberry milk tea.” She nods as you speak diligently taking down the order on her pad.
“Seonsaegngnim?”
(“And you sir?”)
Without promoting him further, the waitress slightly lowers her head to check in with him on a closer level, but he remains in a still. Only you were attentive enough to notice his tapping finger on the menu. “Oh! Uhhh-”
“He’ll have the passion fruit tea with…” his finger moves to the topping section “Mango popping boba”, you add on.
Mochi's cheerful demeanor faltered at Yeosang's silence, casting an uncomfortable glance his way. But you intercepted her look, offering a small, apologetic smile. “Gamsahabnida!” (“Thanks!”) you called after her retreating figure, trying to dispel the lingering tension.
“Arraseo….”, she mutters, then walking off to the kitchen in front.
(“Got it….”)
As you calmly revert your attention to Yeosang you gently asked, "Yeosang-ah, gwenchanaeyo?" As he curled his arms around himself, he mumbled something about the cold weather as he shrugged.
(“Yeosang-ah…is everything okay?”)
You couldn’t bother him about the matter. He did have a solid point about the weather. But yet the cafe was quite warm with the heating and the fluffy fuzzy animals.
As you waited for your drinks, you reached for the stack of colorful kids' paper menus in the center of the table. A subsequent means of distraction. “Hey, let's color these while we wait.” you suggested, pushing a menu and a limited set of crayons towards Yeosang.
Yeosang hesitated for a moment before picking up a crayon, his fingers moving slowly and deliberately as he began to color the kitten balancing on a ball. The simple, repetitive motion seemed to soothe him, and he soon became absorbed in the task- his shoulders relaxing slightly.
By the time Mochi, the waitress, had set your drinks down, Yeosang's menu was a riot of colors - a vibrant distraction from his earlier discomfort. She smiled approvingly at the sight, her earlier discomfort forgotten.
You took a sip of your drink, feeling the sweet and spongy flavors and textures mingle on your tongue. Yeosang continued to color quietly, the gentle scrape of the crayon against the paper the only sound breaking the cafe's gentle hum.
With your tall beverages only half finished in to-go cups, you and Yeosang joined the other patrons at the cat lounge. A more brightly lit room filled with plush cushions, cat trees, and a cacophony of purrs.
Yeosang carefully set aside his colored menu, and drink, his eyes immediately drawn to a fluffy grey kitten curled up in a ball on a nearby cushion. He reached out a hand, letting the kitten sniff his fingers before gently petting its soft fur.
The kitten, seemingly approving of Yeosang's touch, uncurled and began to nuzzle into his hand. Yeosang's face lit up with a genuine smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners.
Crouching down beside Yeosang, you teasingly asked, “Are you a cat whisperer?”, recalling his earlier question at the bus station. His reaction was sudden and silly - he pressed a finger to his lips and made a ' shhh' sound. The kitten, oblivious to the drama, continued to purr contentedly in his hand.
Unable to resist the adorable sight, you pulled out your phone and snapped a quick photo of Yeosang and the kitten. He glanced up at the sound of the camera click, a faint blush coloring his cheeks at being caught in such a tender moment.
"'Was that okay?” you asked, showing him the photo. “I won’t post it anywhere, promise.” Yeosang looked at the screen, his eyes softening as he took in the image. You take his silence as rejection, understandably reaching to click the trash button.
Until he grabs the tip of your finger as it was merely an inch from nonexistence. "It’s okay. Can I see it again?” he asked softly. You handed him the phone, watching as he traced the image of the kitten with his fingertip, and the outer corner of his lids folding with a happy crinkle.
After a moment, Yeosang handed the phone back to you, “Keep it”, he says, his voice barely above a whisper. “I like it.'"
Your afternoon was filled with hours of playing with the various cats, laughing, and enjoying each other's company. In your joint effort, you poked laser pointers at them, fed them treats, and even attempted to teach a particularly stubborn kitten how to play fetch, and just as it mastered the skill for the very first time, it flopped on its side from exhaustion.
As the daylight began to wane, you both found yourselves by the cash register, browsing the selection of cat-themed merchandise.
"Oh, look how cute, Sangie~," you exclaimed, gesturing towards a display of face masks adorned with various mouths and whiskers.
"Hehe, majayo” (“you're right”),' he chuckled softly, reaching out to gently touch one of the masks. “Which is my style?” Yeosang asks with a playful glint in his eye, clearly enjoying your shared amusement over the adorable face coverings.
You pointed out a black mask with lined blush and adorable fangs that peeked from a smile. “I like this one,” you giggle with a grin.
"'Really? My style?” Yeosang asked, a faint blush dusting his cheeks as he examined the mask more closely. He held it up to his face, peering at you over the top of it with a mischievous glare. “How do I look?"
"'Yaong yaong~'" you cooed in a playful, exaggerated cat voice. It couldn’t have suited Yeosang any better. A flustered kitten with a little hidden mischief. He chuckles, the sound muffled slightly by the soft fabric and the mark he already had on. He gently sets the mask back on the display, walking toward the exit and beckoning you slyly to come along.
As Yeosang turned assuming you were to follow, you swiftly grabbed the mask and a cat blanket for yourself, jogging to the cash register. "I'm going to get this for you," you declared, pulling out your phone to tap on the machine before he could intervene.
He playfully groans as the cashier fixes to place the item in a miniature bag. He removes his hat momentarily to push his hair back under, unintentionally grabbing the attention of the workers up front.
The cashier's eyes widened as she locked onto Yeosang, her voice filled with excitement and slight disbelief. "Oh, Seonsaengnim! Neo Yeosang-iya? K-pop idol?" she asked, her gaze bouncing between Yeosang and you.
Not before long it attracted the started of nearby strangers gazes. Yeosang's expression shifted, his demeanor becoming as it were when you first came in.
“O mianhe, nan nega malhaneun Yeosang-I Aniya.”
(“Sorry. Im not this Yeosang you speak of.”) he says in a much deeper voice, avoiding eye contact as he spoke in a lower register than his usual tone.
The cashier looked slightly taken aback, her brow furrowing briefly as if trying to reconcile the disguised face before her with the famous idol she thought she'd recognized.
“A neo jeongmal dalmasseo! Mian.”
(“Oh you look just alike! Sorry…” ) She paused, then shrugged as she rang up the purchase.
As you paid for the mask, you couldn’t help but let your mind race as you walked beside Yeosang out of the shop. Who was the man you were with? If he was famous, why did he deny it? Was he some sort of star gone incognito?
You stole glances at him as you both strolled along the bustling street. He seemed so normal, so... un-famous. Yet, the cashier's reaction and his odd response gnawed at your curiosity. You bit your lip, debating whether to ask him outright or let the mystery linger.
As you walked, you finally found the courage to ask, "Who is this guy the cashier confused you with? Another Yeosang?" You looked at him sideways, hoping to catch a glimpse of his reaction. Would he laugh it off again, or maybe reveal a hint about his true identity?
Yeosang's expression remained neutral as he replied, “Famous K-pop idol. It happens a lot in Korea." he said nonchalantly, his tone mirroring his previous denial.
“Oh..maja.” You whisper.
(“Oh right.”)
And yet the events that you’ve experienced a K-pop idol accused of being a K-pop idol is in the airport. Typically, they are 90% are true to their character. But possibly, there just might be a first time for everything.
The city streets become peaceful at the hour. Working civilians have gotten off from their work shifts and into their homes, leaving the streets nearly vacant with only other walkers being seen every few minutes. You both walk further, strolling with crowding thoughts that equate to your footsteps.
Just as you were in the heart of another town, a bridge and its underpass by a nearby lake comes into view. “How would you like to sit by the lake for a moment?”
Yeosang glances around near and far from the area that surrounds it as he contemplates all the odds. There isn’t any, there weren’t any to begin with, but precautions are his safety nets from the unnecessary recognition.
"Sure, that sounds nice," he agreed, following your gaze to a serene lake nearby. As you both found a spot to sit on a bench overlooking the water, he pulls down his mask briefly, inhaling the biggest breath of fresh air.
…
Some time had passed, enough that the light of day had disappeared, and the awakening of all street lights. You found yourself sitting cross-legged with a lucious cat blanket covering you and Yeosang by the lake's edge. Thankfully he brought hot packs that burn into your skin so good with the freezing cold. The two of you were engaged in an intense game of rock paper scissors, giggling as you made your gestures.
Yeosang let out a triumphant "ololololol" with his tongue as he won yet again, his fingers wiggling tauntingly in front of your face. He couldn't help but laugh at your expressions, which ranged from slight irritation to full-blown pouting.
As you let out a frustrated gasp when he won yet again, Yeosang suddenly embraces your entire head in his hands, his laughter echoing around you as he hugs it slightly. "Sorry, sorry, sorry," he apologizes between giggles, before clearing his throat, tilting your head back in place, and masking a instant serious expression.
“Ya, you’re lucky you’re so cute.”Yeosang cheeks burn and blossom as he tries to hide his smile, even without you looking. Your head was still casted downward after your slip. Thank goodness for the weather, because you feel like Rudolph the way your skin burns so bright.
Once he shoved down his feelings, which came to him naturally as he learned to manage his professionalism over the years- he embraces your head once again. You meet his eyes in the mellow lights, they’re still warm with a different feel.
Yeosang perceives the connection as a means to continue the game, but behind his eyes you could see his worried mind. It’s been that way since you left the cafe. Out of respect you let the subject lie in peace, but you couldn’t help but let it rise out of your mouth once more.
“Yeosang-ssi?” The formal title you call to him certainly swings his mood pushed further by your monotoned voice. “N-ne?”
“Dangsin-eun hangug deulamaui beau ibnikka?”
(“Could it be that you’re an actor in a kdrama?”)
Yeosang's eyes widen slightly at your question, a flicker of surprise crossing his face before he quickly composes himself. He hesitates for a moment, seeming to weigh his words carefully. "I am not actor,” he responds, his tone carefully neutral even as a faint blush colors his cheeks.
You nervously chews on your lips, flicking the skin around your nail bed like a lighter as the forming hangnails burn to the touch. You’re most afraid of making any wrong moves or saying something that could potentially ruin the newfound friendship.“Well then…who are you? Can you tell me?”
Yeosang sighs, rubbing the back of his neck as he looks out at the lake. "I can't," he says softly, his voice barely audible over the gentle lapping of the water against the small grass hill’s edge. He glances at you, his eyes filled with a mix of longing and frustration.
“Will you get in trouble?” The pressure to maintain this new bond adds to the anxiety, making even the simplest actions seem fraught with danger.
Yeosang's gaze lingers on yours for a moment before he looks away, his jaw clenching. "Yes, I will get in trouble," he admits, his voice low and strained. He pauses, seeming to consider his next words carefully before speaking in a rushed whisper, "So please keep my secret. I still tell you." He reaches out, hesitantly placing his hand on your arm in a comforting gesture.
As Yeosang finishes speaking, he looks at you with pleading eyes, his hand still resting on your arm. The atmosphere is heavy with tension, the sound of the lake's gentle waves and the soft blowing wind as the only other frequencies. You can feel the weight of his secret, the risk he's taking by sharing it with you.
Your eyes glimmer with radiance as you watch Yeosang shine under the street light, “Of course you’re an idol Yeosangie. You are kind and handsome. You’re the best.”
Yeosang blinks, seemingly caught off guard by your response. Then, a slow smile spreads across his face, his shoulders relaxing. "You're not upset?" he asks softly, his thumb gently brushing against your arm.
“No. I'm happy now! Everything makes so much sense.” You point toward his mask and hat that covers the majority of his face.
Yeosang's smile widens, relief washing over him as he reaches up to completely remove his mask and hat, revealing his true face to you. His features are even more striking without the coverings, his sharp jawline and piercing eyes making your heart skip a beat.
“Daebak…neo jeongmal maelyeogjeogiya.”
(“Amazing…you’re really charming.”)
Yeosang's face flushes a deep red as you compliment his appearance, his eyes darting away shyly. “Ah you…kure? (really)” he stammers, his words tumbling out in a jumbled but endearing way. "I feel... happy. Very happy."
As you watched Yeosang grow increasingly flustered by your compliments, you couldn't help but be amused. With a knowing smirk, you tapped him on the thigh and asked him to showcase his hidden talents. You couldn't wait to see what talents he had been hiding from all this time. “Can you show new a dance?”
Yeosang's eyes widen at your request, a nervous energy suddenly filling his body. "Dance? For you?" he asks, his voice trembling slightly. He takes a deep breath, seeming to gather his courage. "Okay…I try.”
“Fighting!” You shout encouragingly with a firm fist.
Yeosang blushes at your gratitude, his hands fidgeting with the hem of his shirt as he stands up. "Fighting" he murmurs, before taking a deep breath as he tires in the search bar of a music streaming app, then beginning to dance.
“Oh... jjakaman!” You jump up with a waning hand. What song is this?”
Yeosang pauses mid-movement, tilting his head in confusion. "Song?" he echoes before slightly picking out his phone from his pocket. "It’s very famous Korean dance song. You know PSY?”
A chuckle burst from your lungs and floats into smoke in the chilling air. “Everyone knows PSY Yeosang-ah. But, I want to know you, Yeosang. I want your song.”
Yeosang bites his lip, hesitating for a moment before nodding shyly. He taps into the search bar once again. "Okay...this is my group’s debut song, Pirate King," he announces. He pulls out wireless headphones this time and onto your ears. He slowly takes steps backward to conduct his very own live-action show.
“Yeosang, Yeosang, Yeosang, Yeosang, Yeosang!”
Yeosang's eyes light up at your chanting, a bright smile spreading across his face. He starts dancing with renewed energy, his movements are fluid and graceful as he performs the choreography to "Pirate King". His face is flushed with excitement, even without hearing the music he stays sharp with every beat in his moves.
As Yeosang dances to the outro, you can't help but cheer him on, clapping and shouting his name with each flawless move. His dance is filled with complex footwork, intricate hand gestures, and powerful executions of body control. He especially made sure to go harder on his parts and he didn’t let it go unnoticed as he pointed to himself.
Yeosang finishes the dance with a powerful pose, his chest heaving as he catches his breath. He looks at you expectantly, waiting for your reaction. You slowly take off the headphones, your eyes wide with surprise and admiration. “You…are a superstar!”
Yeosang's face lights up at your words, a shy smile tugging at his lips. "Ohhh…aniyo~" he stutters, his eyes darting away from yours. "I...I'm glad you liked it. I practiced...a lot."
“I can see that! You did so well Yeosang-ssi!”Yeosang beams with pride at your praise, his hands fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. "Thank you...thank you so much," he says softly, his voice filled with gratitude. He looks down at his feet, a small smile playing on his lips as he seems to bask in your praise.
You can't help but admire Yeosang as he catches his breath, his chest rising and falling with each intake. You can't help but admire Yeosang's humble demeanor, despite his incredible talents. Slowly, you reach out and lift his chin, wanting his eyes to meet yours. His gaze locks onto yours, filled with warmth and vulnerability. "Let's go back to the hotel.”
…
Upon arriving back at the hotel, Yeosang asks, "You want to order room service?" You hesitate, before confessing, "To be honest, I'm not comfortable eating alone in my room alone. Would it be okay if I stayed with you for a while?"
Yeosang's eyes widen slightly at your request, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. "Oh! Of course, you're welcome to join me," he says softly, his voice warm with genuine hospitality. He opens the door to his room, gesturing for you to enter. "Please, make yourself comfortable."
You murmur a soft "thank you" as you timidly step into Yeosang's room, taking in the unfamiliar luxury of a K-pop idol by accommodation. The layout is not too different from yours, but it's noticeably tidier.
Yeosang walks ahead and sits on his bed as he picks up the phone to order room service, Your eyes wander around him and his room, noticing the neat piles of clothes, the well-organized desk with a book and a stack of letters, and the clean bathroom visible through the open door.
Yeosang covers the phone's speaker and turns to you, his voice soft as he asks, "What would you like to eat?" But you're momentarily distracted, still taking in the cleanliness and orderliness of his room. It takes a beat for his words to sink in. "Hm?"
Yeosang scoops his hands in the air and toward his mouth, clearly indicating his question as he repeats, "What would you like to eat, love?” His expression is patient and understanding, realizing you may still be overwhelmed by the situation.
You hesitate, feeling a bit out of place and unsure of what to ask for. Your hesitation and uncertainty cause Yeosang to smile gently at you. “No worries, I'll take care of it," he assures you, his voice warm. He then speaks into the phone, ordering in Korean, his tone polite yet firm.
Yeosang sets the phone down and turns to face you, his expression soft. "All set," he says, his eyes crinkling with a warm smile. Seeing you still standing timidly by the door, he pats the bed beside him, inviting you to sit.
You apologize profusely as you walk towards him, keeping a safe distance between the two of you. "I'm so sorry, Yeosang, I'm being so awkward," you mutter, your hands fidgeting nervously. Yeosang chuckles softly, patting the space beside him again.
"You...comfort, please, okay?” His eyes are hopeful, eager to bridge the gap between you two.
As you sit down beside Yeosang, keeping a respectful distance between the two of you, you notice the balcony curtains are slightly open. The city lights sparkle through the glass, creating a beautiful view. Yeosang glances at the balcony, his expression turning thoughtful.
"The view, it's...beautiful, isn't it?” Yeosang muses softly, his gaze distant as he looks at the city skyline. “It reminds me of our fans.” He turns to face you, his expression turning serious.
Your eyebrows furrow, and you pitch in before he can speak to say the thing that has been heavy on your mind. “Are you...okay with everything? Being here, with me, I mean?"
Yeosang's eyes widen slightly at your question, a faint blush spreading across his cheeks. He takes a deep breath before responding, "I...I am okay. Very okay." He nods, his voice soft but sincere. "You make me feel.. safe and comfortable."
“Oh…I’m happy then. You make me feel safe too.” You look down and smile before looking outside the window along with him. “Thank you for all you’ve done Yeosang. I know this isn’t easy as an idol.”
Yeosang's heart swells with happiness at your words, his face lighting up with a warm smile. He looks down at you, his gaze filled with affection before turning his attention back to the view outside the window. "You’re worth it. It's my honor," he says softly, his voice filled with sincerity.
Your heart swells with emotion at Yeosang's words, and before you can rein it in, tears well up in your eyes. You try to hide them, looking down and blinking rapidly, but a telltale sniffle escapes you.
Yeosang's eyes widen with concern as he notices your tears. In a flustered but adorable manner, he jumps up from the bed and scampers to the bathroom on the opposite side, grabbing a handful of tissues. He rushes back to you, his brow furrowed with worry.
"I'm fine no need to fuss," you insist, waving your hands as Yeosang tries to gently dab at your tears. He frowns, looking unsure whether to respect your wishes or press on the matter.
"No, no, let me help..." he insists softly, but is interrupted by a knock at the door. A muffled voice calls out, “Room service Yeosang-ssi!”
Yeosang hurriedly calls out a bright, "Ne!" confirming his consent for the room service to enter. As the door opens, he turns to you with a gentle smile, expecting to share a moment... but you've suddenly vanished. You've quickly rolled under the bed to be kept out of sight, leaving Yeosang bewildered.
Yeosang's eyes widen as he realizes where you've disappeared. He panics briefly, his mouth opening and closing silently like a fish out of water. He hurriedly tries to compose himself as the room service attendant wheels in a cart filled with delicious-looking food. “Kansamida!”
The attendant smiles warmly at Yeosang, asking if there's anything else he can do for him. However, Yeosang is too distracted by the need to retrieve you from under the bed to pay much attention. He quickly declines, saying "No, nothing else is needed, thank you."
Jeulgyo!" the attendant responds politely, bowing before backing out of the room and closing the door behind him. As soon as the door clicks shut, Yeosang rushes to the bed, crouching down to peer underneath. "Hey...come out, please?"
You shift around under the bed, but the confined space makes it difficult for you to move. After a moment of struggling, you poke your hand out from under the bed, waving it helplessly. "Uh, Yeosang...I think I'm stuck," you call out, your voice muffled.
Yeosang's eyes widen with concern as he sees your hand waving helplessly from under the bed. He immediately drops to his knees, reaching out to gently take your hand in his. "Don't worry, I've got you.”
With a strong grip, Yeosang pulls you out from under the bed, his arms wrapping around your back to strengthen his grip. In his eagerness, he pulls you so hard that you end up tumbling into his lap, your face flushing red from the sudden close contact. "Are you okay?"
You quickly scramble out of Yeosang's lap, your face flushed with embarrassment. "I-I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to...um, fall on you like that," you stammer, avoiding his gaze. “but um… I'm okay.”
Yeosang rises to his feet smoothly, a gentle smile playing on his lips despite the awkward situation. He extends his hand towards you, his eyes warm and twinkling with amusement. "It's alright. Let’s eat our dinner and watch a movie together.
You look up at him with endearing eyes, your heart fluttering in your chest. You gently grasp his hand, feeling the difference in his touch this time. His grip is gentler, more careful. "Okay," you whisper, allowing him to help you up.
You both settle onto the couch, surrounded by the mountain of food Yeosang had ordered. As you watch several K-dramas, you snack on the delicious spread, marveling at how much food there is. You can easily eat dinner, breakfast, and lunch out of this haul, and still have leftovers.
As the night wears on, the K-drama binge continues, the volume low as the characters whisper and declare their love for one another. You, having become increasingly comfortable around Yeosang, lowered yourself to be nestled in his shoulder.
Yeosang's eyes widen as you settle into his side, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. His hands hover uncertainly at his sides for a moment before he hesitantly rests them on your arms, giving you a gentle, almost tentative stroke to your skin.
Time slips away as you both become engrossed in the drama. It's only when Yeosang glances at his watch that he realizes how late it has gotten. "It's...it's really late," he murmurs, He looks over at you, expecting you to nod in agreement and maybe suggest retiring to your own room...
But instead, he finds you curled up asleep on his lap, your head resting on his bicep and your arms wrapped around a soft, fluffy kitten blanket. Yeosang's heart melts at the adorable sight, but he's also aware of his awkward situation.
Gently, Yeosang tries to ease out from under you, but his movements only cause you to groan softly and burrow closer, your arms tightening around the kitten blanket and pulling him back down.
Faced with your snug, sleeping form, Yeosang decides it's just easier to sit back and try to fall asleep himself. He carefully adjusts his position, laying back against the couch with you still curled up on his lap.
His mind races with thoughts as he tries to fall asleep. The warmth of your body against his, the soft, rhythmic sound of your breathing, and the gentle weight of your head on his side all conspire to keep him awake. As he relaxes, Yeosang finds his eyelids growing heavy. The rhythmic sound of your gentle snores fills the room, lulling him into a relaxed state. He takes one last look at you, a soft smile playing on his lips before he, too, drifts off to sleep.
As dawn breaks, the first rays of sunlight peek through the cracks in the curtains, casting a soft glow over the room. You stir, awakening from a deep slumber to find yourself draped over a warm, unfamiliar torso. For a moment, confusion reigns supreme as your bleary eyes as they struggle to focus.
Then after your memory returns, as you recall the events of the previous day - the impromptu cat cafe run, the hand games and conversation by the romantic lake, a dramatic yet entertaining k drama, and the exhaustion that led to you falling asleep on Yeosang.
Flustered, you quickly disentangle yourself from his limbs, your face flaming with embarrassment. You carefully shift his body to lay him down comfortably before tiptoeing around the room, straightening cushions and tidying up the remnants of last night's snacking.
As you work, your mind races with thoughts of how to make things right. You decide that the perfect way to reward Yeosang for the wonderful day he gave you yesterday would be to take him to the arcade once he wakes. he seemed so excited when he won all the games you played yesterday, so it just made sense.
Satisfied with the cleanliness of the room, you grab your phone and check the time. It's still early, so you decide to hop in your shower next door and freshen up before Yeosang wakes.
You throw over a blanket on his relaxed body and tiptoe out of the room as you slowly pull the latch close to lessen the clicking noise of the closed door.
You find yourself smiling under the steam, your heart fluttering in your chest. It's then that you realize just how much you've come to care for Yeosang in such a short time. You quickly shake off the thought, attributing it to the romantic atmosphere of the dramas you'd watched last night.
Yet his kindness, his laughter, his passion for his infamous job, and his devastatingly handsome face all flash through your mind.
You step out of the shower, wrapping a fluffy towel from its warmer around you as you dry off. As you're getting dressed, you hear the sound of movement from the other room.
Your ears perk up at the sound, and you can't help but grin. You finish getting dressed quickly, pulling on a warm comfortable outfit that still looks put-together. You make your way to sit in your bedroom just as Yeosang starts to stir awake.
Yeosang stretches languidly, his arms reaching high above his head as he blinks his eyes open. He looks around dazedly for a moment, his gaze landing on the tidied-up living room.
A soft smile plays on his lips as he remembers the events of the previous night. He sits up, rubbing his eyes before freshening up in hopes of you two beginning another day together.
As the water cascades over him, Yeosang too finds his mind drifting to yesterday, to last night. His thoughts mirror yours - your smile, your laughter, your kindness. But unlike you, Yeosang is more confused about these feelings.
He's been in the industry long enough to know that such thoughts are natural when spending enough time with a person. But these feelings feel... different. They feel deeper, more profound. And it unnerves him.
He turns off the shower, stepping out to dry himself. As he gets dressed, he can't shake off the thoughts. He looks at his reflection in the mirror, his expression unreadable. "It's probably just... only me," he murmurs to himself, trying to convince himself more than anything.
Yeosang steps out of the bathroom, his hair still damp and his face fresh from the shower. He's dressed casually in a comfortable cardigan and jeans, looking every bit as handsome as he did yesterday and more. As he opens his front door, he finds you standing there, a warm smile on your face.
Yeosang's eyes widen slightly in surprise, but it's quickly replaced by a bright smile. "Good morning," he says, his voice still slightly husky from sleep. "Good morning, how did you sleep?” you ask.
"Quite well, actually," Yeosang replies, a slight giggle escaping his lips. "The couch is surprisingly comfortable.”
You rub the back of your neck sheepishly, "I'm sorry for falling asleep on you. I didn’t mean to. Yesterday was just so well spent with you that it left me exhausted," you admit.
Yeosang waves off your apology, his smile growing wider. "No, no, it's fine! I enjoyed it," he confesses, his cheeks flushing slightly.
You slowly nod, your eyes meeting his. There's a moment of silence between you both, the air thick with unspoken words. Eventually, you break the silence, "So, I was thinking, we could go to the arcade today, if you'd like."
Yeosang's face lights up with excitement. "The arcade? With games and the prizes?" he asks, his voice eager. You laugh, nodding in confirmation. "Exactly like that," you reply. "Unless, of course, we can see if the train is running again?”
Yeosang's excitement dims slightly at the mention of the train, but he quickly recovers. “Actually this morning I find app about train," He pulls out his phone and opens the train app to check the schedule.
You chew your lips nervously. Not wanting to pull away from him so soon when you felt like you’ve hadn’t even repaid the half of your debts. “So…what does it say?”
"Let me see..." Yeosang mutters, scrolling through the app. "Ah…still no good.”
You let out a breath you didn't realize you were holding, relief washing over you. "Well then, arcade it is," you say with a smile. "But first, let's go grab some breakfast downstairs.”
Yeosang nods, a grateful smile on his face. "Sounds perfect," he says, already moving towards the door.
As Yeosang reaches for the doorknob, you gently touch his arm, making him pause. "Your mask," you remind him softly, looking up at him with a gentle smile. Yeosang turns back to you, his brow furrowing in confusion for a moment before he remembers.
A sheepish grin spreads across Yeosang's face as he reaches up and grabs his mask from where it hangs around his neck. "Ah, right. Thanks for remembering," he says, slipping it on. “I guess I’m so excited.”
You smile warmly at Yeosang, "Come on, let's go eat. I'm starving," you say, leading the way out of the room. As you walk to the elevator, you can't help but steal glances at Yeosang, admiring his profile.
…
As you step out of the cab, you hear Yeosang's sharp intake of breath behind you. "Wow..." he murmurs, his eyes widening as he takes in the sight of the three-story arcade standing before you both. "It's...tall" he finishes, a note of awe in his voice.
You giggle at Yeosang's reaction, giving him a playful nudge with your elbow. "Yeah, just like you," you tease, your eyes twinkling with mirth. Yeosang flushes at the comparison, but he's grinning from ear to ear.
You lead Yeosang inside, the sounds of games and laughter enveloping you both. You approach the token counter, asking for a small bucketful. The attendant counts out the tokens into a red plastic bucket, which you take with a smile, paying him before turning back to Yeosang.
"Let's play some games!," you suggest, shaking up the bucket of tokens. Yeosang's eyes light up, and he eagerly follows you to the nearest shooting game. You both take turns, making pew-pew noises as you pull the trigger, laughing and competing with each other.
After a few rounds of the shooting game, you move on to a rhythm game, noticing Yeosang's keen interest. He watches you play for a moment before hesitantly stepping up to the machine. You cheer him on, offering suggestions and guidance as he tries his hand.
Yeosang's face lights up with determination as he starts playing, his fingers moving quickly across the buttons. You clap and cheer him on, his confidence growing with each successful combo. Eventually, he finishes the song, beaming with pride. "I did it!"
You pull him into a tight hug, laughing. "You did amazing!" You grin mischievously, grabbing his hand and dragging him to the next game.
The fast-paced excitement of air hockey quickly becomes your favorite game. The puck zips back and forth, each of you determined to outscore the other. When the bonus round hits and dozens of pucks suddenly flood the table, it's pure chaos - and exhilarating fun!
Yeosang's eyes widen in delight as the pucks pour out, his hands a blur of motion as he frantically tries to send them flying into your goal. The frenzied pace and adrenaline rush have you both laughing breathlessly, lost in the thrill of the game.
As the game continues, a crowd begins to form, drawn by your animated cheering and the spectacle of the bonus round. Reluctantly, you both step away from the table, your game abandoned by the increasing attention.
With arms laden around a steaming pizza box, a bag of warm, chocolate dipped churros, and two towering fountain drinks, you and Yeosang find a quiet corner to sit in. The break is much-needed, allowing you both to catch your breath and refuel.
As you sit, munching on a slice of pizza, you glance at Yeosang and ask, "So, are you having a good time?" Yeosang nods enthusiastically, his mouth stain with chocolate from his churro. Once again, the little areas of his face are too covered in yummy goodness and he gives you the silliest thumbs up.
With laughter, you both continue eating, Yeosang's cheerfulness as always is infectious. You decide to head to the bathroom to clean up, taking a wet paper towel to help clean Yeosang's face.
After finishing your food and cleaning up, you both make your way to the escalator, heading up to the second floor where the virtual reality games are located. Yeosang's eyes widen with excitement as he takes in the new selection of games. "Waaa, this is so cool!"
You dive into the different VR experiences, from exploring underwater worlds to soaring through the skies. Yeosang's laughter and amazement fill the air as you both lose yourselves in these alternate realities. Eventually, your gaze lands on a peculiar game - 'Loop Idol.' "Hey, let's try this one!"
Yeosang eyes the famous 'K-pop Idol' striking pose in the game hesitantly, biting his lower lip. "Really? Isn't that kind of embarrassing?" he asks, glancing around to ensure no one is watching. However, his curiosity seems to outweigh his hesitation. After a moment of deliberation, he nods.
Yeosang awkwardly slips into the VR headset, fumbling a bit as he adjusts the straps. As the game loads, the first scene greets him with exaggerated fanfare. He can't help but snicker at how absurdly glamorous it all looks compared to reality.
The game starts throwing around exaggerated scenarios - thousands of screaming fans at every performance, instant viral fame for every post, and a ridiculously oversized mansion to live in with the other "idols". Yeosang shakes his head with amusement.
However, amidst the over-the-top fantasy, a few aspects are surprisingly true. The grueling practice schedules, the constant scrutiny of appearance and behavior, the pressure to maintain a perfect image... Yeosang finds himself nodding along, as the recollection of familiar memories comes to mind.
After completing the 'K-pop Idol' scenario, Yeosang pulls off the VR headset, cheeks slightly flushed. "It's not that bad...!" he protests weakly, glaring at you who's giggling and snapping 'photos' with an imaginary camera.
You can't help but tease Yeosang, imitating the actions of a paparazzi, snapping photos and shouting out things like "Look over here!" and "Smile, pretty boy!"
Yeosang's embarrassment grows, his face turning a deeper shade of red as he tries to duck away from the 'paparazzi'. He finally covers the uncovered portions of his face with his hands, mumbling something about how embarrassing this is. It only makes you laugh harder, enjoying Yeosang's flustered state.
You pester Yeosang playfully, pulling his hands away from his face. "Come on, don't hide!" You say with another promoted laugh. "You know what's next, right?~”, you say teasingly. “Last floor - karaoke! Ready to finally show me how well you can sing?”
Yeosang peeks out from behind his fingers, looking down at you with a pouty face. "I-I didn't say I could sing well..." he stammers, but there's a glimmer of excitement in his eyes at the prospect of karaoke.
“Well judging from the way you sang on the train…with your headphones on- I think you sing pretty well~,” you sing-song in a teasing tone.
Yeosang's face turns an even deeper shade of red, and he quickly looks away, murmuring something unintelligible.
You wink at Yeosang, quoting his impromptu performance on the train. "Let's just say, I have high expectations.” You help him up from the VR set and link arms with him. "Now, let's go show me what you've got, Yeosang-ie.”
With a gentle tug, you guide Yeosang toward the escalator leading up to the third and final floor. Yeosang hesitates for a moment before stepping onto the escalator, his heart pounding with anticipation and a hint of nervousness.
As they ascend to the karaoke floor, Yeosang takes a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves. You squeeze his arm encouragingly as you both approach the private room. "Don't worry, I'll sing first so you'll seem amazing by comparison," you joke with a grin.
Indicated by a green ceiling light, you both enter an unoccupied, private room. As you push open the door, you're greeted by a cozy space with colorful plush sofas, a large flat screenTV, and multiple microphones with colorful plastic wrapping.
Yeosang steps inside, looking around the room with wide eyes. He notices the microphones and his gaze lingers on them before moving to the TV screen displaying the song selection. You follow him in, letting go of his arm to remove the plastic wrapping from one of the microphones.
“Now, what's your poison, Yeo?” You ask, plopping down onto one of the sofas. “Ballad? Pop? hip hop?”
"Uh... poison?” Yeosang blinks rapidly, tilting his head to the side as he processes the word. He hesitates for a moment, then asks, "What genre… I like?”
You laugh softly, waving your hand dismissively. "Of course, my goodness, I meant genre, not actual poison.” You slap yourself on the head, your known limits of his English begin to slip the more you hang out. “What kind of music do you prefer?" You say with a grin, patting the spot next to you on the plush sofa.
Yeosang lets out a small giggle and sits down next to you, his earlier nervousness ebbing away. “I-I like ballads and some pop, but I'm not great with English songs.”
"Ballads and pop, huh? We can work with that!" you give Yeosang an encouraging smile. "I’ll sing 'Someone Like You' by Adele. It's a beautiful ballad that showcases emotion well."
Yeosang nods eagerly, his eyes sparkling with curiosity. "I know that song! It's really pretty." He watches attentively as you scroll through the song list, locating Adele's "Someone Like You." As the opening chords fill the room, Yeosang leans forward, already captivated by your starting performance.
As the first verse plays, you begin to sing softly. Your voice wavers a bit initially, mirroring your inner discomfort. However, as you sing, you become more immersed in the emotional lyrics. By the chorus, you're standing up, belting out the powerful words with conviction.
By the time the second verse rolls around, you're standing, pouring your soul into the lyrics. Yeosang watches in anticipation as you try to follow through with the pitch of voice requested on screen.
As you finish the last verse and extend your hand to him invitingly, Yeosang hesitates only briefly before taking it. He allows you to gently pull him up to stand beside you.
The final notes of "Someone Like You" fade away, and the room falls silent for a moment as it grows dark. The silence breaks by Yeosang little applauds. “Now it's your turn," you say softly, still holding his hand. "Did you find a song you'd like to sing?”
Yeosang's eyes light up as he recalls the lyrics he's been thinking about. A soft grin spreads across his face as he nods. "I found one," he says, his voice filled with quiet confidence. "It's a ballad in Korean, called 'Me After You' by Paul Kim."
You beam at Yeosang, unknowing bothe the song and the artist but nonetheless pleased with his choice. "Go ahead, Yeo! Show me what you've got," you encourage, settling back into the couch to give him the floor.
Yeosang takes a deep breath, stepping backward to grab his microphone from the glass table. He presses a button on the remote control, setting the lyrics to display in English for your benefit. He already in Korean, had it memorized entirely. As the first lines play, he begins to sing with a gentle, whispering, and soulful voice.
As Yeosang's voice fills the room, captivating both with its melody and the heartfelt lyrics displayed on the screen, you find yourself utterly transfixed. The atmosphere around you seems to shimmer and transform, his earnest performance weaving a tapestry of emotion that blankets the air.
Tears well up in your eyes as you read the poignant lyrics along with the English captions, each word striking a chord deep within your soul. Yeosang's voice is a balm to your heart, his delivery so genuine and powerful that it feels as though he's singing directly to you.
The song's title, 'Me After You,' takes on new significance as you realize that Yeosang has chosen the perfect response to your earlier performance. The lyrics speak of longing, love, and the pain of parting, each sentiment resonating with unmistakable clarity.
As the lyrics unfold, Yeosang's gaze slowly turns towards you, his eyes locking onto yours as he sings the lines: "Even now when I'm anxious / I want to be with you forever / I thought that as I was looking at you / I was so happy after meeting you."
You quickly wipe away the tears that threaten to spill down your cheeks, determined not to let them fall. Instead, you summon a radiant smile, allowing it to blossom across your face as you meet Yeosang's gaze.
Your smile is not just one of happiness, but also one of immense pride and deep appreciation. At that moment, you feel a profound sense of connection to Yeosang, your heart swelling with warmth for someone who has become such a cherished friend in an astonishingly short period.
As the song reaches its emotional crescendo, Yeosang's voice cracks with feeling. The room falls silent, the only sound the gentle hum of the microphone and the soft rustling of your conjoined breaths. You rise to your feet, applauding wildly with tears still glistening in your eyes.
"Aigoo!" the exclamation of awe escaping your lips as your applause finally subsides. "Your voice, Yeosang... it's beautiful. I can't find the words to describe it. Thank you for singing for me."
Yeosang's face flushes a soft pink as he smiles shyly, his eyes sparkling with happiness. He bows slightly, his hands trembling slightly as he holds the microphone. "Thank you,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'm glad I could make you happy."
You step forward, closing the distance between you and Yeosang. As he straightens from his bow, you open your arms wide, inviting him into a warm embrace. He hesitates for a moment, then steps into your arms, wrapping around your waist as he rests his head on your shoulder.
"You did more than that," you whisper, your voice heavy with sincerity. "You sang straight to my heart, Yeosang."
Yeosang tightens his arms around you, pulling you closer. "I'm happy too," he says softly. "Because that's where I wanted my voice to go."
_____________🚂
With the performance wrapped up, you and Yeosang find yourselves back at the hotel for the next couple of days. You're relaxing on the plush couch in his suite, the room filled with a comfortable silence. The heater hums softly in the background, keeping the room toasty warm despite the cold outside. “I know what would make this day better”, you whisper, staring at the mirroring gold borders along the entire room.
"Mmm, what would make this day better?" Yeosang ask, sitting up to face you at the other end of the couch He's curled up with head resting on one hand as he looks down at you expectantly.
“We should try the pool, hot tub, and the sauna here.” You peer behind Yeosang’s head directly shielding the balcony’s peak of light, It’s too cold to go out anymore. So, why not?”
It had basically snowed in after karaoke night as you both were sleeping in your respective hotel rooms. You just knew the light was brighter than it usually was in the early mornings. Just as you peered outside your window, white was the only color in sight.
Yeosang's eyes light up at your suggestion, a grin spreading across his face. "That sounds perfect," he replies, nodding enthusiastically. “Hot tubs are a great idea.” Stretching his arms overhead, a sliver of his abdomen becomes apparent in your line of vision.
It was in that moment prior that you forgot Yeosang was a muscular man. A MAN. In which he will most likely be only wearing swim shorts to your newly scheduled activities.
“I hope you brought swimming clothes Yeosang-ah~.” What you think to say is, ‘I hope you didn’t come prepared for my spontaneous thoughtless ideas consist of being half naked.’
"I did." Yeosang beams, rummaging through his luggage before pulling out a pair of black swimming trunks and a towel. He holds them up, a question in his eyes. "Where’s your swimsuit?"
Yeosang watches as you stand up and turn toward to the door. “ll have to go and get it. I’ll be back soon.” He nods, a gentle smile on his face. "Okay, I'll wait for you here then," he says softly, settling back down onto the plush couch. "Take your time."
You hurry back to your room, digging through your luggage to find your swimsuit. After a few minutes of searching, you finally find it and quickly change into it and your tshirt coverup. You glance at yourself in the mirror, smoothing out your look before heading back out into the hallway.
When you return to Yeosang's room, you find him still sitting on the couch, lost in thought as he gazes out the window. The brightness outside glows around his body like an radiating aura. You clear your throat softly to get his attention, and he turns to look at you with a warm smile.
“Ready to go?" Yeosang asks, hopping up from the couch with a bounce of excitement. He grabs a towel and his key card before holding the door open for you.
Yeosang leads you to a private corner of the pool area, a small '예약됨' (Reserved) sign visible. With a slightly shy smile, he explains, "I... asked for this area to be ours alone."
"Oh right, because you're...right." you say softly, understanding his need for privacy given he primarily exists in a public image.
Yeosang's face lights up with gratitude. "You understand," he says, his voice warm with appreciation. He quickly togs off his shirt without warning, revealing a warmly toned upper body. "Shall we?"
You stand there, momentarily stunned by the sight of Yeosang's sculpted physique. His muscles ripple as he moves, and you can't help but admire him respectfully as he walks over to the pool. You quickly compose yourself and follow him, your eyes fixed on his back as you walk behind him.
As you slowly undress down to your swimwear, you can't help but watch as Yeosang approaches the pool's edge. He watches the water at its still, takes a deep breath, and executes a perfect dive.
He slices through the water like a knife, swimming several laps with powerful, fluid strokes before resurfacing at the other end.
Yeosang's gaze finds you still standing at the edge as he treads water, a playful smirk on his face. He makes a beckoning motion with his hand, clearly inviting you to join him in the cool, refreshing water.
You take a deep breath and dive into the pool, the cool water enveloping you. As you surface, Yeosang is right there, his brown wet hair slicked back, water droplets that dribble on his ends fall gracefully on his skin. He grins at you, looking more relaxed and carefree than you've ever seen him.
(“Mul eun gibun i johji anhni?”)
“The water feels great, doesn't it?" he asks, his voice echoing slightly in the empty pool area. You nod, feeling a little shy as you realize the capacity in the room is only for the two of you to share. "I'll race you to the other end."
Without waiting for a response, Yeosang pushes off from the wall and starts swimming. You hesitate for a moment before taking off after him, laughing as you slice through the water. Even with a head start, Yeosang waits at the end for you to catch up, his smile encouraging.
You finally catch up to him, both of you breathing heavily from the exertion of energy. Through your laughter, you manage to say, "Hey! You have to say 'ready, set, go' before a race!" Yeosang grins mischievously and splashes water at you. Which consequently triggers a whole lot of splashing for the two of you.
“Alright, alright," he concedes. “To the number three, ready? Set... and... go!" He pushes off from the wall again, but this time you're ready. You both race back to the starting end, your laughter bouncing like a sirens song through the empty pool area.
As you both reach the edge, panting and laughing, Yeosang pulls himself out of the water and flops down onto the tiles. "You're pretty fast," you compliment, playfully tapping his long legs dangling in the water.
Yeosang's eyes sparkle with mirth as he looks up at you. His two fingers comb through upward in the air as he falls back down with a grin.
“Iliwa.”
(“Come here.”)
His wet, long, pretty fingers.
You pull yourself out of the water and sit down beside him on the cool tiles of the pool deck. The two of you lie in the sounds of each others breaths for a moment, and if you closed your eyes, well then your imagination painted a pretty picture in your head for ya.
Yeosang turns to you with a gentle smile, breaking the serene silence. "You have a great laugh," he says, his voice warm and genuine. "It's really...sangkwaehan."
Your eyes flutter, readjusting to the bright lights overhead. It was as if you woke up in heaven, stunned at a angels compliment, even if it was random to say. But in all the time of quiet breathing, that must’ve been on his mind. “Refreshing? Thank you…yours is too.”
Yeosang's smile widens at your response, clearly pleased. “Laugh is very important." He leans back on his hands, his body language open and inviting. “Happy comes from laugh.”
Your heart beats triple time at his words, and you find yourself adoring him in all shamelessly. "I think you're right," you agree, feeling a strange warmth spreading through your chest. "Laughter makes us feel happy, and being around someone who laughs easily, is nice."
Yeosang's eyes crinkle warmly as he looks at you. "So, we make each other laugh, yes?" he suggests playfully. "Maybe that's why we get along so well."
“…because we make each other happy,” you whisper.
Yeosang's face lights up at your words. "Exactly," he says, his voice eager. "Happy is best." He sits up straight again, turning his body towards you. "ready, set, go!”
Without any warning, Yeosang suddenly pushes off from the edge and dives into the pool, his splash marking the sudden start of another race. "Hey!" you laugh, quickly following suit and jumping in after him. "You cheater!"
..,
Salty sweat plunges your pores as the two of you step out of the sauna. You're both so relaxed that you can barely keep your eyes open. You stumble back to your respective rooms, coming to a mutual agreement that a steaming shower is due.
Sometime later, a soft knock at your door rouses you from your post-sauna slumber. You wipe your eyes and stumble over to open it, revealing Yeosang standing there like a baby poodle with a shy smile and damp-haired from his shower.
"Oh, sorry…” , he whispers as he watches you wipe your dreary eyes, “can I come in?" he asks quietly, his eyes hopeful. He then holds up a bag of gummy bears as an offering.
You can't help but laugh at his adorable request, and you step aside to let him in. "Of course, come on in! It’s your room too," you say, closing the door behind him. Yeosang enters cautiously, setting the bag of gummy bears on your desk before turning to face you with a shy smile. “Is everything okay? Did you sleep?”
“My sleep, uh, not yet. “But everything's fine.”Yeosang assures you, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. "I just... want to watch K-drama again with…you.”
You blush at his words, the memory of the last time you watched a drama together, and how you subsequently fell asleep on his lap. "Sure, that'd be nice," you reply softly, gesturing to the bed. "Wanna sit?"
Yeosang nods gratefully and settles onto the edge of your bed, patting the space beside him invitingly. As you join him, he hands you the remote with a shy grin. "You pick. Last time was my turn."
Yeosang watches as you scrolls through the list options, a hint of nervousness flickers across you face when you settle on the new romantic K-drama. He releases a soft groan, burying his face in his hands momentarily. "Ah... really? A romance?"
You pout slightly, tilting your head to the side as you look at him. "What's wrong with romance?”
Yeosang peeks at you through his fingers, his cheeks flushing a light shade of pink. "N-Nothing... It's just... a bit embarrassing to watch with you, that's all," he confesses softly, lowering his hands to his lap.
You gasp loudly in disbelief, horrifically offended. “Embarrassing? Jjinjaro?” You climb to the top of the bed and grab the nearest pillow and aim it square at his back.
The pillow ends up hitting Yeosang in the chest as he turned around at the last second, causing him to let out a soft "Oof!" He catches the pillow the moment it hits him, hugging it to himself as he looks at you with wide, startled eyes.
“Naega mwol han geoya?”
(“What did I do?”)
You glare playfully at Yeosang, while he pouts all wide eyed and confused. Before he can protest further, you jump forward and place you arms under his shoulders, dragging him with you to the head of the bed. “Just be quiet and watch the drama with me," you mutter, pretending to be offended.
Yeosang freezes momentarily, his body tensing as you suddenly rest your head again on his shoulder. A soft gasp escapes his lips, his cheeks burning even brighter with embarrassment and a flutter of unexpected joy. Hesitantly, he rests a gentle hand on your back, stroking it lightly as he did before.
As the romantic drama plays on the screen, Yeosang finds himself more focused and relaxed with the soft rise and fall of your breathing than the story unfolding before him. His heart races with a strange, unfamiliar feeling – one that he can't quite put a name to.
Yeosang blinks as you sit up and move to turn off the lights, plunging the room into a soft, intimate darkness illuminated only by the glow of the TV. He shifts slightly as you settle back down next to him, hyper-aware of your closeness in the dim light.
As the darkness mingles with the steady hum of the TV, Yeosang feels his eyelids growing heavy. He leans back against the wall, his head gradually falling towards your shoulder. A soft sigh escapes him as fatigue claims him, his breathing evening out into the soft rhythm of slumber.
The drama reaches a particularly heartwarming moment, drawing you in completely. It's not until you feel more weight press on your shoulder that you realize Yeosang has drifted off to sleep, his head now resting heavily on you.
You gently readjust Yeosang's position, making him more comfortable as he sleeps. A soft, contented smile spreads across your face as you continue watching the drama, feeling oddly at peace and like you're in your own lovingly innocent film.
As the drama fixates on the plot to a heartwarming close, you feel a lump form in your throat as the two characters finally confess their love for each other. Even with unrequited love, they realize they would never be happy without each other, allowing you to relax completely even without seeing it to its end.
As you both sleep, entwined together like the star-crossed lovers in the drama, the room grows quieter, save for the faint hum of the TV on standby. The gentle rhythm of your combined breaths fills the air, creating a peaceful harmony that seals this moment as one of tender, unspoken connection.
Hours pass, and the first light of dawn begins to creep in through the window, casting a soft, ethereal glow over your sleeping forms. Yeosang stirs in his sleep, his head shifting slightly on your shoulder. His eyes flutter open, taking a moment to adjust to the light.
Yeosang blinks a few times as he fully awakens, realizing his head is still resting on your shoulder. He glances at the clock, noting the early hour. He blushes softly and carefully extracts himself from your hold, trying not to wake you.
As Yeosang quietly gets up, the soft movement wakes you up. You blink open your eyes, taking a moment to orient yourself. Seeing Yeosang standing there, you smile lazily and stretch, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. "Morning," you mumble, your voice still thick with sleep.
Yeosang returns a shy smile, running a hand through his disheveled hair. "Good morning," he replies softly. "We... fell asleep early." He casts a glance at the clock again, confirming the early hour.
You glance at the clock, noticing the time, and yawning widely. "Ugh, I'm starving," you complain, your stomach growling loudly. "And it's so early..."
Typically, the last couple of days have consist of expensive hotel cuisines. Although they were delicious all the while, you were growing tired of fumbling into the floor and under the bed three times a day. But it’s no fault but your own. Yeosang was the one at risk, and yet he never seemed to care.
Yeosang's ears pick up on your grumbling stomach, and he strongly contemplates for a moment before speaking up. "There is 7-Eleven nearby. They have kimbap, ramyun, and yogurt drink.."
You roll over onto your stomach, propping your chin on your hands and grinning mischievously at Yeosang. "Hmm, masisseo~," you tease, as it was always the thing Yeosang said so cutely anytime you talk about food. the endearment "Should we also get Samanco?”
Yeosang's face lights up with a bashful smile as he nods adorably, his hair flipping every which way from the tossing and turning during his sleep. "Hmm, massiseo," he echoes back, his voice barely a whisper.
The two of you make your way to the nearby 7-Eleven, Yeosang leading the way. Once inside, you pass the counter and greet the worker, a friendly older man who always has a smile ready. He nods in recognition as Yeosang grabs a basket for your snacks.
Yeosang begins to fill the basket, carefully selecting the items you discussed. He grabs a few packs of kimbap, some instant ramyun, and a couple of yogurt drinks. Pausing by the freezer section, he glances at you with a small, playful smile.
Yeosang picks up two packs of strawberry Samanco ice cream and places them in the basket. As he turns to face you, his expression turns sentimental. "Memory is so powerful here," he says softly, his eyes gazing into yours with a newfound depth. "Now you are my friend."
Your face lights up with a warm smile as you reply, "You're my friend too, Yeosang." As the words leave your lips, a single tear threatens to escape from the corner of your eye, a silent testament to the emotional weight of this newfound friendship.
Internally, you struggle with a wave of emotions. While you're genuinely touched and happy to be called Yeosang's friend, a lingering fear from your past rears its head. You've always been afraid of commitment. You pushed people away first so you didn’t get left behind.
As Yeosang turns to continue shopping, you find yourself staring at his retreating figure. In the fluorescent lights of the convenience store, you could swear you see a faint halo glowing above his head. The sight makes your heart skip a beat, a symbol of the pure, innocent nature of your growing bond.
You shake off the surreal moment, reminding yourself of your past patterns and the walls you've built to protect yourself. Despite the warmth you feel towards Yeosang, you can't help but wonder if you're strong enough to let him in, to allow yourself to be vulnerable and open with someone else.
You continue to trail behind, watching as he meticulously chooses a few more items, his eyes flickering with quiet joy. As he finishes and heads to the counter to pay, you reach out and gently touch his arm, hesitating for a moment before mumbling lowly. "Yeosang..."
Yeosang turns to face you, his expression is soft and attentive as he listens to your hesitant mumble. He tilts his head slightly, a few strands of his messy hair falling across his forehead. His eyes search yours, filled with gentle curiosity and a warmth that seems to radiate from within. "I... I'm glad we're friends,"
Yeosang's eyes crinkle with affection as he leans his head forward, his messy brown hair swaying gently. Despite his hands being full with the basket of snacks, he manages to bump his forehead against yours in a playful, affectionate gesture. "Nado” (“Me too.”)
After Yeosang pays for the snacks, you both exit the convenience store, joyous with each other and your purchases. You even made waving for a taxi in the cold a fun task, it was nothing in the moment that could pull you down.
You slide into the backseat as he eagerly tears into one of the fish-shaped ice cream packs and offers it to you.
You take the ice cream from Yeosang, your face breaking into a wide grin as you peel back the wrapper. "Thanks.“ Encouraged, Yeosang grins and unwraps his ice cream, mirroring your actions.
You both raise your ice creams in a playful toast before taking your first bites simultaneously. The cold, sweet treat hits your tongue as you share a moment of pure, childlike joy. It's a perfect recap of that first day you spent together, viewing the city and sharing every tender moment.
As you finish your last bite, you glance over at Yeosang, noticing he's only halfway through his ice cream. You watch as he licks a drip from the corner of his mouth, his tongue darting out with a focus that makes your heart skip a beat.
The sight of him, the sweet taste still lingering on your tongue, and the knowledge that your time together is limited make this moment bittersweet. You realize that this could be one of your last shared moments, and you're determined to savor it before it melts away.
Back at the hotel, you both retire to your shared room to continue snacking and chatting. The TV plays softly in the background as you lounge on the plush sofas, laughing and joking like old friends. As you prepare for the day ahead, you can't help but feel a sense of anticipation. Each day with Yeosang has been spectacular, and today promises to be no different.
As you finish your easy meals, you both decide to retire to your respective rooms to prepare for the day. Yeosang flops down on his bed with a contented sigh, already looking forward to eating lunch together and dinner.
But then, his phone rings. His personal line.
Yeosang's phone rings shrill, disrupting the cozy silence. He pauses, as he recognizes the distinctive tune of his line. With a heavy heart, he reaches for the phone tucked away in his bedside drawer, the buzzing intensifying his trepidation.
As Yeosang pulls out his phone, the agency's name flashes ominously on the screen. His heart skips a beat. He knows that randomizing caps from them rarely brings good news. Hesitantly, he swipes to answer, pressing the phone close to his ear.
“Hello it’s- "Yeosang, it's time to return to Seoul immediately," the agency representative says, his tone leaving no room for argument.
Yeosang's grip tightens on his phone, knuckles turning white. "Now? But... why?" he stutters, sitting up straight on his bed, his earlier relaxation forgotten. "There have been rumors, Yeosang. About your whereabouts."
The agency rep continues, "We've been monitoring the situation. The train incident... and now this town. We can't risk any more speculation or potential scandals." He pauses, then adds ominously, "If you don't return voluntarily, we may need to... take more direct action."
Yeosang's mind races to your adjoining room, imagining you waking up with that same sense of anticipatory joy he felt moments ago. Now, that promise of a spectacular day lies crushed under the weight of this sudden obligation. He swallows hard, his voice cracking slightly as he responds,
"Direct action? What does that mean?" He already knows, though. It means someone will be sent to watch him, to report his every move. It means losing the freedom they've both enjoyed these past days. It means... possibly ending this budding friendship before it truly begins.
Small clatters erupt on the line before he hears his manager speak, “They will drag you back to Seoul Yeosang-ah” he says in a wary tone
Yeosang's heart sinks like a stone. He can picture it all too clearly – being escorted back to Seoul, forced to leave you behind, unable to even say goodbye or explain the situation to you. The thought of it is suffocating. "I-I understand,"
"I'll... I'll be there as soon as I can. Just give me a little time to pack up my things." Yeosang says his voice heavy with resignation and barely concealed emotion. He ends the call and stares at his phone, the weight of the world on his shoulders.
Yeosang looks at the wall separating his room from yours, his heart aching. He wants to tell you, to explain. But he also knows that burdening you with this is unfair. He decides he'll tell you, but not the full truth. Just enough to explain his sudden departure.
Yeosang slowly gets up from his bed, each movement heavy with reluctance. He walks over to the wall you share, placing his hand flat against it. He wishes he could reach through it, to touch you, to warn you about what's about to happen.
With a heavy heart, Yeosang gets up and starts packing, occasionally glancing at the wall that separates your rooms. He practices what he'll say to you in his head, each version of the truth heavier than the last.
Yeosang takes a deep breath, steeling himself before knocking softly on your door. As you open it, his practiced speech dissolves, replaced by an aching sincerity in his eyes. "I am…goodbye.”
You blink, taken aback. "Goodbye? But... we were going to- " You trail off, confusion etched on your face as you glance upon this four big ass suitcases. Those same ones you carried for him at the train station. You never thought this would be when you saw them last. "Yeosang...?” “Yeosang, what’s happened?"
Yeosang's shoulders slump as he nods towards your room. "Can I... come in? I need to explain."
You step aside hesitantly, allowing Yeosang to enter the room. As he crosses the threshold, a palpable tension hangs in the air, his presence usually comforting but now tinged with urgency. I close the door gently behind you both, turning to face him with a quizzical expression.
Yeosang nods solemnly, stepping inside your room. His gaze drifts around the space, taking in every detail as if committing it to memory. He sits heavily on the edge of your bed, clasping his trembling hands together. "It's... complicated," he starts, his voice thick with emotion.
You sit beside him, your brows furrowed with concern. "Yeosang, you're scaring me. What's going on?" Your voice is barely a whisper, as if speaking louder might shatter the fragile moment.
Yeosang takes a shuddering breath, his eyes meeting yours with a haunted look. "I have to leave. Now. There's... there's something I need to take care of back in Seoul." He pauses, seeming to wrestle with his next words.
Tears well up in your eyes as realization dawns on you. "Now? As in... right now, right this moment?" You ask, your voice wobbling. Yeosang nods miserably, avoiding your gaze. "But... we were supposed to... I thought... "
Yeosang reaches out, his fingers brushing against your cheek in a gentle caress. "I'm so sorry, I wanted it to be different," he whispers, his voice cracking. "But I have to go. Now." He stands up, turning his back to you as he struggles to compose himself.
"Yeosang, what aren’t you telling me? Is it because of me? Because of us?” you question as he stiffens at your words, turning to face you with a pained expression. "Yeosang, did your agency find out about me?”
Yeosang's gaze drops, his shoulders sagging under the weight of his secret. "I’m not sure” he truthfully admits, his voice barely audible. "but if they know, they will not be happy about it." He swallows hard.
You gasp, your hand flying to your mouth in shock. "Yeosang... did you come here knowing you might get caught? Why did you risk everything to be with me?" Your voice wavers between anger and hurt, tears streaming down your face. "Why wouldn't you tell me?”
Yeosang's eyes well up with tears as he stares at you, his heart shattering into a million pieces. "I wanted to protect you," he whispers, his voice choked with emotion. "I didn't want you to get hurt because of me.
You stand abruptly, backing away from Yeosang as if burned by his words. "Protect me? By lying to me? By not trusting me with the truth?" Your voice rises, trembling with barely contained anguish. "How could you think keeping this secret was protecting me?"
Yeosang reaches out to you, his hand trembling, but he stops short, fearing he'll be rebuffed. "I'm sorry, I never meant to hurt you," he whispers, his voice raw with emotion. "I thought I was doing the right thing."
‘And you were.’ You never known or think that Yeosang had ill intent in whatever he puts his mind to. But even so what result of it made you feel ill, and you couldn’t convey it in simple words. “Thank you, but I’ll find another hotel. Your company needs you. It was nice meeting you Yeosang.”
Yeosang's eyes widen in shock as you turn away and begin packing your bags, his heart sinking like a stone. He opens his mouth to say something, anything, but the words get stuck in his throat. He watches helplessly as you grab your belongings and walk out the door, leaving him alone with his regrets.
_____________🚂
The familiar Airbnb emerged as a ghost from the past, its walls seemingly whispering echoes of laughter long since faded. This place had become a shrine to memory - a haunting reminder of friendships that once filled every room. Now, it echoed with lonely silence.
What's even worse than sitting in a space where you used to spend your days with old lost friends while your bringing along the memory of an even more recently lost friend.
Days dragged into an endless, melancholy parade. The smartphone and television had become your reluctant companions, glowing screens casting an eerie light in the darkened room.
At first you hesitated, you so desperately didn’t want to search his name up, but with every letter of his name, results would appear in an instant along with different media contents. All this time he was trying to hide, and you just needed closure on who you thought he was.
But to you, it was nothing shameful that was worth hiding. The group had beautiful indifferences that united them together into a beauty that was all the same. Or better said “Eight Makes One Team.”
It was you that was in hiding, you didn’t fit in that image. How could you even involve yourself in such a masterpiece? How could you diminish the value of the very thing that made him idolized?
From the moment your feet touched Korean soil, the idol life wasn't just something you knew about - it immersed you completely. On that first flight to Seoul, you'd innocently followed the group deplaning, only to realize too late you were amidst a whirlwind of reporters and devoted fans.
You quickly learned that even in their supposed 'free time', idols were never truly off-duty. A casual outing with friends like Yeosang could spark a flurry of unfounded rumors: relationships, secret locations, pregnancy theories, and even fabricated drug scandals.
The paparazzi in Korea operated on a whole different level of obsession, hungrily devouring any shred of information about the idols' personal lives. It was a constant reminder that once you stepped into the K-pop world, your every move would be scrutinized and your privacy non-existent.
You spent the entire day holed up in bed, not a single won wasted on anything but your obsession. Your eyes remained glued to the screen, consuming an endless stream of content - edits, compilations, challenges, song covers, lives, and so much more.
Too much more.
There was always more.
With each click, with each scroll, you fell deeper into the rabbit hole of Yeosang's online presence. There was always another clip to watch, another post to like, another fancam to analyze.
Hours blurred into days, and yet it never felt enough. You craved more hidden track listens, unseen practice footage, stolen moments of authenticity. Even the smallest snippet of Yeosang's voice could set your heart racing, each stolen second a fleeting treasure in your endless digital scavenger hunt.
Eventually, you were compelled to set your device down and step outside onto the balcony for some fresh air after feeling suffocated by the endless stream of online content.
As you leaned against the railing, taking in deep breaths of the city's cool evening air, something across the street caught your eye. A taxi was parked at the curb, its engine humming softly while polluted gray smoke billowed out of its back end. the driver climbed out of the front seat, followed by another figure emerging from the back.
You squinted, trying to make out the silhouette as it came into the dim streetlamp glow. Suddenly, reality shifted into focus--the distinctive brown fluffy hair, the unmistakable scarlet red mark adorning his right eye.
He stood there, incomparable beauty framed by the mundane streetscape, as the driver helped him haul not one, not two, but four large suitcases out of the trunk.
Yeosang's brow furrowed in concentration as he supervised the unloading, his lips moving in quiet instructions. The sight of him, so close yet so out of reach, sent your heart into overdrive.
You stood frozen, eyes glued to Yeosang's figure, as he finally finished and thanked the driver with a warm smile. The driver gave him a respectful bow before getting back into the car and pulling away, leaving Yeosang alone on the sidewalk, surrounded by his mountain of luggage.
Suddenly, Yeosang glanced upward, his piercing gaze sweeping across the row of buildings. For a heart-stopping moment, you were certain his eyes met yours. He paused, head tilted slightly as if sensing your presence.
He didn't look away. Instead, he slowly started dragging the luggage through the heavy snow and towards the entrance of your Airbnb.
Your heart pounded in your chest as you watched him approach, snowflakes catching in his hair and dusting his scarlet eye mark. He was coming inside. Your home, your safe space, was about to be invaded by the very man who had consumed your every thought.
You couldn't help yourself. "Wait!" burst from your lips involuntarily, the word hanging in the frosty air. Heart hammering, you stumbled backwards from the balcony, nearly tripping over your own feet in your haste to get downstairs.
You threw open the door just as Yeosang was about to lift one of the suitcases onto the step. His head snapped up, those striking eyes locking onto yours once more. He froze, the suitcase dangling from his grasp, as he stared at you in obvious disbelief.
"Y-yeosang?" you stammered, scarcely believing he was actually there, standing before you. Your gaze traced over his face, taking in every detail you had admired from afar. "What are you... I mean, is everything alright?"
Yeosang blinked, seemingly as shocked as you were. A slow, bewildered smile spread across his face as he lowered the suitcase back to the ground with a soft thud. "I want to stay here. Can I come in?”
Confusion etched itself onto your features as you gaped at him, struggling to process his words. "Stay... here? But I thought you were supposed to be in Seoul, at the agency." You bit your lip, uncertainty creeping into your voice. "You just left a few days ago.”
Yeosang's brows knitted together as a chill breeze whipped around him, causing him to shiver slightly. He glanced back at his abandoned luggage before fixing you with an earnest gaze. “I still have time to see them. But I need to see you.”
Without a word, you stepped aside, allowing Yeosang to enter the cozy Airbnb. As he walked past you, the cold air followed him inside, making you shiver. You closed the door, your confused expression still firmly in place as you watched him set his luggage down by the entrance.
Abruptly, Yeosang dropped to his knees, bowing low to the ground. "Naneun baboya (“I’m a fool.”) I'm a babo," he babbled, his voice thick with emotion as he switched between Korean and English. "Because I like you."
You stood frozen, stunned by his deep bow and passionate declaration, your heart racing in your chest. "Yeosang, get up," you managed to whisper, trying to pull him up by the shoulders. But he remained stubbornly bowed, his forehead pressed to the cold floor.
"Please, just let me apologize," he insisted, his voice muffled by the floor. "I shouldn't have left without saying anything. I shouldn't have just disappeared. I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry, I'm a babo, I'm a babo.”
As you knelt down, mirroring his bow, Yeosang finally lifted his head in surprise. His eyes widened at seeing you at his level, your voice thick with emotion. "I'm sorry too, I'm sorry for not hearing you out when you tried to explain." Your voice cracked slightly.
His eyes filled with unshed tears as he saw you bowing to him. He had never imagined you would ever apologize like this, let alone bow to him. "I’m a babo too," you whispered, your voice breaking. "We're both babos."
A wry smirk tugged at Yeosang's lips despite the tears in his eyes. He reached out, gently lifting your chin so you would look at him. "Look at us, two babos, bowing to each other," he chuckled softly, the warmth returning to his voice.
You couldn't help but join in his laughter, the absurdity of the situation finally hitting you. Together, you both struggled to your feet, clasping each other's forearms for support, as if sealing a pact between equals. Your faces were inches apart, breaths mingling in the chilly air between you.
For a long moment, you just stood there, lost in each other's gaze. The laughter faded, replaced by a heavy, electric silence. Yeosang's thumb brushed against your jaw, his touch gentle yet sending sparks through you. "I missed you so much."
Your breath hitched at his tender touch, your heart pounding wildly in your chest. "I missed you too," you breathed out, your voice barely above a whisper. The world seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you in the cozy warmth of the Airbnb, the cold forgotten.
Yeosang stands up and dims the lights, the flickering flames of the fireplace casting a warm glow over the room. "We watch K-drama together, like old times?" he suggests softly.
your heart skips a beat at the sound of his voice, the way he says "old times" with such fondness. "Yes, please," you reply, snuggling deeper into the blanket. he sits down next to you, the warmth of his body radiating against yours as he pulls a blanket over your laps. As he snuggles in he looks down at the cat sprawl on the front with his belly exposed. he pets it like it’s the real thing, cooing at it adorably.
“It misses you too, you know. Wishes he could've been here, cuddling with both of us." your voice trails off, a slight blush spreading across his cheeks.
“You know, when we were watching dramas together, I always felt so safe and happy when you were by my side." he pauses, his gaze lingering on yours.
he looks up at you, his eyes shining with a mix of affection and longing. "I always wished... I always wished that the scenes were real, and we were the characters." he pauses, his hand still petting the cat
Yeosang's breath catches as your hand joins his on the blanket, his eyes widening slightly at the sensation. A small, almost shy smile tugs at his lips as he turns to look at you. “Yeosang-i…nal bwa.”
(“Yeosang-i…look at me”)
his fingers intertwine with yours gently, still keeping the rhythm of the cat-petting motion. "You... called me 'Yeosang-i' just now..." his voice is soft and barely above a whisper, clearly touched by your nonfamiliar intimacy
You confidently move closer to him, pressing your side against his. He tenses initially, surprised by the sudden proximity, before slowly relaxing into your touch. His eyes flutter between you and the cat.
“Joha…Yeosangie”
(“I like you…Yeosangie”)
his ears burn red as he hears you call him 'Yeosangie' again, his heart pounding in his chest. He swallows hard, turning his face to look at you, his eyes filled with unspoken questions. "Neo...?" (“You…?”)
“Neodo naleul joh-ahani?”
(“Do you like me too”)
He opens his mouth, trying to form words, but nothing comes out. His gaze drops to your lips, as if hypnotized. Suddenly, he nods vigorously, a small, hopeful smile blooming on his face. "Ah...ne? I do. Yes. Joha… neo...
Just as he's about to say more, you gently place a small, soft kiss on his lips, cutting him off mid-sentence. small enough for it to mean nothing, so he can walk out the door as he should’ve and never look back. big enough for it to mean something, so he can stay here for as long as he can. a possible promise to forever…. maybe.
Your lips graze each other softly in shyness, but then you take the initiative and pull him even closer as you pull your arms on the sides of his neck. It was an emotional reaction, even a tear slipped from your eyes from the good overwhelming feeling.
He freezes, his mind reeling from the unexpected kiss. He should pull away, stand up, and leave as planned. But his feet feel rooted to the spot, his body aching to stay closer, to understand the meaning behind that tiny, confusing kiss.
His hand, still intertwined with yours, slowly tightens its grip. His other hand, the one petting the cat, pauses, his fingers lingering on the imaginary pet. His eyes, when he finally opens them, are wide with a mix of shock, curiosity, and something deeper, more profound.
his voice comes out hoarse and whisper-soft. "Joha... what..." he swallows hard, struggling to maintain his composure, his thumb unconsciously brushing against your hand. "What... does that mean?"
“Mweoya?! Are you Korean? I, like, you, and im pretty sure you said you like me too. in two different languages. yeosang. me. heartu~”
A nervous laugh escapes his lips, his face turning a deep shade of red. His eyes search yours intensely, filled with vulnerability. His breath catches in his throat, eyes darting between yours, searching for some indication he hadn't misread the situation. A small, nervous laugh escapes his lips as his heart races. "You... you're teasing me." he whispers, his face turning a bright shade of pink. "But..."
"But you can't be serious..." he swallows hard, his mind racing with unspoken words and unsaid confessions. He takes a deep breath, steeling his nerves. "You can't really like me... Can you?"
Yeosang's eyes widen in disbelief as you suddenly grab his face, peppering it with kisses. He lets out a startled "Ah!" each time your lips touch his skin, his cheeks flushing an even deeper red. "Johaaa!"
Yeosang's shock quickly melts into a warm, tingling sensation spreading through his body. With a sudden burst of boldness, he grabs your wrist, gently but firmly pinning your arm beside your head as he presses you back onto the couch cushions.
His other hand reaches up to gently cradle your face, his fingers tracing the curve of your cheekbone before pressing against your lips in a soft, claiming kiss. As he pulls away, he looks into your eyes, his own shining with a mix of adoration and nervousness. "Joha..."
In the midst of the passionate moment, Yeosang's body betrays his growing arousal. The bulge in his pants becomes increasingly evident, pressing against your hip. He notices your pointed gaze and freezes, a deep blush creeping up his neck. “Mianhae! Sorry, hajiman. I’ll go fix dis.”
You smirk, a confident glint in your eye as you say "Ne~ kaja! Let's go fix it!" You follow Yeosang into the bathroom, closing the door behind you. Yeosang turns to face you, his cheeks still flushed with embarrassment.
“Gwenchanayo, joha~. can i help you?”
Yeosang gulps nervously as you advance towards the shower, his heart pounding in his chest. He leans back against the cool porcelain of the sink, his erection still visibly straining against his pants. "Gwenchanayo..." (“That’s fine”) he murmurs, a shudder running through him at your bold approach.
You reach out and slowly unbuckle his belt, your fingers brushing against his hard length through the fabric. Yeosang bites his lip to stifle a moan, his hips instinctively bucking into your touch. "Hajim..."
You cut him off by pulling his pants down, his erection springing free. It's impressive, thick and long, with a delicate pink tip. You wrap your hand around it, giving it a slow squeeze as you look up at Yeosang. "So hard for me, ne?"
The sight of you holding him makes Yeosang's knees nearly buckle. His hand goes to your shoulder for support, nails digging slightly into the fabric of your clothes. "Ah... H-hajim... His voice is breathless as he speaks. "Please..."
Yeosang watches, transfixed, as you slowly peel your clothes off, revealing inch after inch of bare skin. His mouth goes dry as he takes in the sight of you, fully naked, your own arousal now obvious
He was found stunned as you dragged him to the bathroom, turned on the showerhead, and pulled his hand out to feel for the right temperature.
You look back at him, still stunned in a stillstance. With the language barrier, he wanted to make sure the next action wouldn't be miscommunicated. You saw this and understood immediately. So you communicated in a way you both knew, body language.
Your clothes fall onto the floor together and on the tiles as you turn from Yeosang to step foot in the shower. You never closed the glass door and it could have two outcomes. He could turn around and walk out of your apartment with his belongings, pretending you two never happened, OR he could decide to stay and walk into the shower as he did now, coming behind you and now aching all over from the desire to touch to you.
You grab his hands and pull them around your waist. His hands grow clammy but you pressed them into your skin further, granting him the deepest of touches.
You then let go of your hands on his and allow him to grow comfortable with touching you. Like clockwork he began his experimentation, he tweaked your nipples and watched as your teeth grind and made a hissing sound from the pleasurable sensitivity, or how your hips rolled on his abdomen as he touched your belly, or how you bit your lip when his hands engulfed your neck.
He began to be your touch subject as well when your ass move backward onto his growing cock, or how you grip the back of his hair as he touched you so passionately, and when you pulled his head forward, connecting your lips with his.
A full-blown makeout session followed in pursuit, his lips were salty much like yours. As your hands lowered to his neck his body was cold to the touch. And here your body was absorbing all the water.
You pull away from him momentarily which he is not so happy with and hunted you two steps forward as he joins you under the stream.
He then picks you up as he did in the ocean. You moaned when your slit brushed upward on his cock. Moaning is his mouth as he caresses his lips with yours again. This time wet and sloppy from the water.
His hands rub your ass smoothly with the water as a form of lubrication. As the kiss grows intense so do his hands. He gets experimental with grabbing and smacking, taking into account what causes you pleasure and pain but it was all the same. His curiosity explores your pulsing core to get you stimulated. “Jagiya, you’re so tight.”
“Oppa~Take me. Fuck me.”
“Arasseo.” he whispers seductively in your ear.
You feel an easy slip in your pleasure right after. One that had you squealing and clawing onto Yeosang's back.
He was decently sized not too big and not too small. But the way he molded inside of your body? Well, it was the perfect fit.“Are you okay, jagiya?”
“Yes, I'm very okay.”He picks you up from underneath your cheeks and then moves them right on top to pull you up and down his length.
The sounds in the whole room were so explicitly pornographic. The water that claps in splashes between your colliding pelvises. The moaning, whining, and groaning in combinations of both your vocalizations not to mention the echoing of it all in the open space.
As Yeosang grew in speed he grew cautious from how he was gradually losing his grip to standing up on the floor while upholding both of your weights.
He slows down his motion and taps your hips so you know to get down.
"Bow," he commanded. At first, you were confused but you folded in front of him as if you were bowing, but then you felt the tip of his cock graze your hole and you adjusted to the position quickly, grabbing onto the wall in front of you.
“You listen well.~”
He slides back in once again, and in this position, he manages the find the sweetest spot in your body that makes your knees buckle.
He takes hold of your hip to keep you steady, thrusting his way in and out of you with his high energy in stamina."Fuck Yeosang, your dick feels so fucking good."
"Don't say bad word."He pulls you back by your head and covers your mouth as he rams into you deeper.
Your screams absorb into the palms of his strong hand. At this rate you let Yeosang be in complete control. The sensation of him penetrating you had your eyes rolling back to your skull, blinding you from the space at the moment. You take nibbles of his fingers bc you can't scream, squeezing his thighs to stay stable. All that is left is your hearing and sense of smell, and even as you tremble to climax those begin to clear out.
"I-I'm close jagiya. Shibal." he moans weakly. So much for not saying bad words.
You open your eyes and kiss him as you come on his cock. You were already warm, but with your even warmer cum his body empties his hot seed right onto your lower back.
Your ears are clogged from the running water. The only sounds are your beating heart and the faint noise of hundreds of droplets in a stream as they hit the ground. "I think we should take a bath jagiya. I'm so weak.”
He chuckles and peppers kisses on your neck and shoulders.
“Sorry. Bubbles?”
You giggle softly, pulling on his neck to drown his embrace. “Yes, please.”
…
As much as you've been relishing the stolen moments with Yeosang, the real world beckons, threatening to tear you apart once more. He lies beside you, his fingers tracing idle patterns on your skin, a small frown tugging at his lips as he too senses the looming separation.
As you see the frown deepening on Yeosang's face, you sit up abruptly burying your face in his chest and murmuring, "Yeosang-ah...”
“Nugu?" His other hand comes up to gently tilt your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze.
“Ugh”…” you roll your eyes playfully, placing a gentle hand on the hill of his chest. “Oppa~”
At your playful roll of the eyes and the affectionate 'Oppa', a small smile tugs at the corners of Yeosang's mouth. He catches your hand on his chest, bringing it up to press a gentle kiss to your knuckles before replying with a sing-song "Ne~".
As Yeosang's playful demeanor momentarily distracts you, you remember your earlier concern. Propping yourself up on one elbow, you give him a mock stern look, your free hand tapping lightly against his chest as you inquire, "When are you going to check in with your company?”
Yeosang's playful grin suddenly turns into an exaggerated pout at your question. He flops dramatically onto his back, one arm flung over his eyes as he declares, "Never!" with childlike stubbornness.
Laughing softly at his antics, you remove his arm from his eyes and pin it down beside his head, leaning over him with a mock stern expression. "Hey seriously," you say, your voice a mix of amusement and gentle reprimand, "You can't stay with me in bed forever!"
Yeosang's eyes widen in mock offense at your words, his free hand clutching dramatically at his heart. "Wae!" he exclaims, feigning hurt as he stares up at you with exaggerated innocence.
Your stern expression falters as Yeosang's cute reaction melts your heart. You sigh, rubbing your forehead in exasperation. "It's impossible! Plus, the comeback is coming up soon, my love. You'll have to go back to Seoul.”
Yeosang's pouting expression quickly shifts into a hopeful smile. He reaches up to cup your cheek, his thumb gently caressing your skin. "Well, you'll come with me, right?"
“Hm. I’m not sure…” you faintly whisper.
Yeosang's smile falters, replaced by a flicker of disappointment in his eyes. He sits up slowly, pulling you into a sideways hug, his voice tinged with a wistful note. "Not sure?" he murmurs, resting his chin atop your head. “Then I’ll stay here forever!”
“Ya Yeosang-ah!”
Yeosang's disappointment momentarily clouds his face before he forces a bright smile, his arms tightening around you in a reassuring hug. "Fine, I'll make trip!" he declares, his voice determined. "That way you will have time to think things over, okay?"
As you acquiesce with a simple "Fine, you got a deal," Yeosang's face lights up with a genuine, boyish grin. He boops your nose playfully with his finger before pulling back to wink. "Awesome!” He tackles you on the bed, and seconds after he had to prepare to leave.
…
Without thought, this is the happiest you’ve ever felt. You don’t wanna run away anymore, whatever this is, its something you want to run towards.
You had to confront your fears and break down your walls. You had to open up your heart and allow yourself to feel. You had to trust Yeosang and believe that he was the right one for you.
You just didn’t wanna encounter those roadblocks that could mess it all up. Or for your closeness to feel like a threat to your character. But for Yeosang, a man who could barely hurt a fly you didn’t have that worry.
It was just a matter of battling your thoughts and breaking the cycle. You had to conquer what you always had run away from even in the beginning.
Yourself.
_____________🚂
The train whistle pierces through the chilling air, and the wheels begin to turn with the boiling steam, allowing you to view the city's landscape in distance from your front-end seating. The whistles sound like a bird's song. The boiling steam of excitement. In all the love from which you’ve never felt before, until now.
The train ride passes in a blur, as outside the window, you see the familiar streets and buildings slowly fading away. Here you are, running away once again, leaving behind those who were just beginning to understand the real you - if only for a brief moment.
Yeosang boarded off the plane the company provided for him so they could pick him up from the airport. He has secretly gotten one for you across from KQ ENTERTAINMENT. So everything still has a chance to go to shit and shambles.
It was nerve-wracking to wait around to wait for the queue. You never knew how the saesangs could do it.
…
"I'm going to get a snack downstairs. Any requests?" Yeosang stood, adjusting his wet tank top as he began to walk away. "Woah there," Seonghwa interjected, leaning back in his seat, "Why not just call Manager Nim? He'd probably love to help."
"No need," Yeosang replied, pausing at the doorway, his muscular frame filling the entryway. He ran a hand through his damp hair, still slightly sweaty from their practice session earlier. "I’ll be back soon.”
"Hey, why are you being so weird today?" Wooyoung asked, sitting up straight, his casual tone laced with concern. “just call the manager.” "Just let him go, Woo," San chimed in from his seat, stretching his arms. "He probably just wants a moment alone."
Yeosang stepped out of the room, closing the door softly behind him. As he walked down the hallway, he pulled out his phone, hesitating for a moment before sending a quick text to the manager. "Be right back," he murmured to himself, continuing his stroll downstairs to the snack bar.
“Yeosa-
“Shhh. remember the plan.” Ah, the plan. The one the manager was on which is why he didn’t get “the snacks”. The same plan that involved sneaking you into the building.
You follow Yeosang’s lead and take in his new appearance. A black tank top that held in the muscles that gave him the stage to hold you tight, and the grey sweatpants that contained a part of him that makes you feel batshit crazy.
He looked cozy in his slides and effortless attire. But what drove you most crazy was his new hair. Who has the most fun, blondes. No wonder he came up with this mischievous plan the moment he landed.
Yeosang tells you to wait behind the door as he walks back in. No snacks in hand.
As Yeosang returns from his errand, Wooyoung looks at him expectantly, arms crossed and a hint of annoyance on his face. "Ya, where are the snacks, fool?" he demands, his patience today was surely wearing thin.
Yeosang saunters back in, shrugging casually with an unrepentant grin. "It was too crowded down there I decided to wait a bit later." He leans against the wall, his tone nonchalant despite Wooyoung's clear irritation.
Wooyoung lets out a frustrated sigh, throwing up his hands in exasperation. "See what did I tell you? You could've just called the manager instead of leaving us hanging like this!" He turns to Hongjoong, who's observing the situation with a tired expression.
Hongjoong pushes off the couch, stretching lazily. "This is pointless, let's just get back to practice." He starts heading towards the door, clearly done with the snack debacle. "I agree, but there's one thing I did bring back with me."
(“Hello everyone it’s nice to meet you. I’m Yeosang’s partner. Let’s get along well please.”)
As you step in and bow, Yeosang's heart swells with affection for your thoughtfulness. He gently pats your back and pulls you closer, seeking comfort in your presence amidst the tense atmosphere. The room continues to run with electricity motors in its background, and you remain bowed, your persistence steadies as you greet the members.
Just as Yeosang begins to speak, the sound of marching footsteps grows louder, signaling the approach of the other members. Each step echoes through the room, building anticipation and tension. Each step was an inch toward your potential doom. “Ahhhh…gwenchana. I'm Hongjoong,” a hand reaches out to your accommodating the friendly voice, “nice to meet you.”
You rise from your bow and accept the gesture with a smile, and all the members follow while also giving Yeosang their ments to congratulate him.
Wooyoung, the very last in line, steps in front of you two and glances at the both of you with his distinctive eyes. “Yeosang-ssi.” Wooyoung says with a mix of reprimand and quiet defiance, tapping on his fellow members shoulder.
As Wooyoung nods and smiles, the room slowly returns to a sense of calm. Yeosang breathes a sigh of relief, his arm still around your waist. "That's a W."
_____________🚂
A/N: how was that ending lmao. I just thought it be a comical and reflecting way to conclude the story. Wooyoung just always shouts it these days I just had to include it.
Much love,
xoxo
PLEASE DO NOT COPY MY ORIGINAL WORKS, reblogs are appreciated and accepted. Stealing and modifying my work or publishing out on other platforms is not.
📝 Chapter 1: Y/n normal practice on Fridays after work involves going to the library to check out sexually explicit novels for the upcoming week. However, her weekly ritual is thrown of course when she eyes an attractive stranger with an image equivalent to her fantasies.
📝 Chapter 2: After your last conversation with Hongjoong, your fantasies become increasingly intense, and you have an exceptionally explicit dream that has never happened before, when you have always daydreamed and visualized him. As a result, your next interaction with him changes in a profound way. Can you resist the temptation?
📝 Chapter 3: One lovely date with Hongjoong develops a new self-discovery beyond explicit book reading. However, being apart from him makes it easy to return to old ways, leading to guilt, and a dread of returning to work hungover. A new truth comes to light, one that sets you free, but it also pisses you off.
📝 Chapter 4: After a night of newly experienced bliss, you have no idea where Hongjoong stands in evolving into a romantic relationship. The both of you are challenged by the discovery of your boss's true identity, and devise a plan to expose him into the light. At a cost, it brings you closer to exactly what your relationship is, and one step closer to your boss being locked up forever.
📝 Chapter 5: There was a lot of worry in the case with your womanizing ex-boss, but Hongjoong was there, ensuring that he had no power over you anymore. Your relationship undergoes an upgrade, but you’re still wary of your kept secret. Turns out Hongjoong has one of his own. However, on a fateful night you both share them together, leading to forgiveness, and explicit pleasure you never felt.
🏀🧡Summary: As a point guard, Jung Wooyoung, is a well known basketball player at your college. He also has a reputation for being a heart-throb for the ladies, and your the only one with an opposed opinion. Wooyoung “shoots his shot”, and tries to change your heart, over a special date in celebration of his championship game.
🏀🧡A/N: Attention all my fellow melanated queens! This one was made for you and you only. This is my first time writing with y/n being a BlackFem character! I tried to add some relatable elements to the MC to make your experience more enjoyable. Hope you like it!👸🏿
🏀🧡 Pairing: AthleteWooyoung! x Black!FemReader
🏀🧡Word Count: 15k
🏀🧡Tags/ Warnings: MINORS DNI Sports, Enemies to Lovers, Romance, Lots of Crack and Drama, Narcissism, Heavy flirting, Language, Explicit Smut, Squirting, Dirty talk.
Stomping feet vibrates through the court and onto the floor of the stands, bouncing off the walls all over the gymnasium like a thunderclap warning for the upcoming storm.
“R-E-B-O-U-N-D, shoot that ball through the hoop baby!” Your cheer squad chants on the sidelines, as the Jung Wooyoung stands at the 3 point line on the court.
He was the receiver of a chant uniquely created for him 2 years ago when he joined the basketball team.
Back when you were a sophomore cheerleader on the squad, he joined the team as a student athlete, and became one of the most competitive players your college had ever seen.
Present day, in your senior year of college as a member of the squad. You were a first hand witness of his advancements in becoming one of the infamous, top ball players of all the colleges across your country.
Alongside him are his other teammates, and the losing team behind by just a singular point.
A grand majority of them had a pissed look on their faces that it was him who was scoring the rebound. The result of him making the shot determined the #1 championship team of the whole season.
It was fairly evident they were salty in taking the L. Rebounds are lightweight to the heavily skilled pro.
The next part of the chant was created to represent the three times he’d dribble the ball, and kiss it for good luck when he prepares to shots.
“R-E-B-O-U-N-D! Dribble that ball, are you ready? On three!”
For him to kiss that ball after it has made contact with the gymnasiums floor and sweaty men turns you all the way off.
“One!” He bounces the ball once. “Two!”Then twice. “Three!” and at thrice he kisses the ball and flicks his wrist with his legs high in the air.
As far as he was concerned though…the kissing part was absolutely necessary due to an inane belief that he had some sort of spiritual affiliation with “The Gods of Basketball.”
The hope of gaining the last point of this seasons championship game flew with the ball as it soars toward the basket.
SWOOSH…
Throughout the gymnasium, there is only one sound that echoes as the ball miraculously passes through the net.
Like a pack of lions, the crowd roars and rise in a standing ovation. All of his teammates swarm around him like bees and toss his body like a hand crafted pizza into the air. As soon as he drops back into their hands, he’s flying right back up.
“Jung-Woo-young! Jung-Woo-young! Jung-Woo-young!” The majority of people in the gymnasium joined in singing his name like a choir.
Or should you say, everyone except for you, and the losing team of course.
And If that is what people called being a hater, you would gladly take its title. Despite being a championship winner, you considered him to be an overconfident loser, and you had your reasons for doing so.
Wooyoung tired body is finally let down by his teammates. Every game ended with them forming a line, and they were required to shake hands with the losing team as a show of sportsmanship and respect.
After the renounced champions receive half-assed handshakes, they move toward the audience in order to engage with the fans before they depart to go home to rest those aching bones.
Mr. Jung Wooyoung however, is walking in the line of your direction, lookin’ all smug and cocky, as per usual.
“Awe, and what do we have here?~ Its my #1 favorite cheerleader. I heard your pretty little voice chanting for me babe~. Hmmm, how does it go again…I think I forgot. Maybe you could show me?”
Every time he saw you, whether on campus or in a game, he would give you aimlessly flirt with you with no shame. For some odd reason, out of everyone else, It was always a challenge to talk to you. And as one of the top best basketball players in the country, he tried extremely hard to overcome it.
“Ut uh~, just stop right there. Im not interested in feeding into your bullshit today Jung Wooyoung.”
The end of the season was the most exciting for you in cheer, but the most stressful for you as a college student. You were in last week of the Spring semester and that meant taking hella final exams. As of Next Friday, you’ll find out if pulling an all nighter to study was really worth it.
“Oh come on sugarbear don’t be like that~. How about you give me at least some kind of congratulations. Like a hug maybe…or a kiss?”
Without fail, after every single game, he’d always wants you to give him a pat in the back or words of validation like he didn’t just have the whole gym screaming for him.
Just so cocky.
“Don’t you have more productive things to do? Like sign autographs or chat up fangirls number 1?”
Number 1 was his newly assigned AKA by his online fan base. With his increasing popularity, his jersey number was changed from its previous number 99, to further exaggerate his position as ‘the best’. That’s how cocky he was, and you feel sorry for it’s previous owner Jung Yunho.
If anyone asks you why that was, you would say Wooyoung made some kind of weird compromise with Yunho to trade jerseys. Not that the taller, and more gentlemen-like player, would care for numbers anyhow. Regardless, he was just excited to be an active player in the game.
“Yeah I suppose I could. But i’d much rather talk to you. Plus you look so damn fine in that uniform princess.”
What’s sad is that most girls at your school would find this flattering. You, on the other hand, think this the behavior of a thirsty little boy stuck in a grown man’s body.
“Jung, get over here and stop bothering that girl! We need to take some team pictures with the trophy!”
His coach yells across the gym at a dangerously high volume level. It conveys a strict authority Jung Wooyoung most definitely needed to keep him in check. It even stops the tracks of crowd members as they walk down from the bleachers in readiness to go back home.
“Yeah Jung~, listen to your coach, or else you’ll be sitting out for the championship game next season.”
That wasn’t true. It was a made up taunt to get him away from you and run back to coach in a panic. But you still hoped for it to be effective.
“Kkkkkk, me? One of the best ball players in the country be glued to a bench? You know better than that babe. We’ll talk soon about with that dirty little mouth of yours after I get that trophy.”
It irked you to hear him talk like that. Although you can’t deny that you were intrigued in the slightest.
“Dirty?! I’ll show you dirty with my bare hands Jung Wooyoung.”
The mischievous smirk on his face alerts you that what just snapped back with might have been misinterpreted.
“Oh really? Well I’ll be more than willing to get a feel of what that is after I get my trophy princess~.”
As he turns towards his coach, your words flutter on the tip of your tongue unable to form a witty response to his unfiltered statement.
You stomp your foot in frustration and walk back to the front of the locker room where your best friend Fatou is standing and watching the entire situation. Moreover, she served as your squad captain and roommate, which granted you the position of co-captain.
“Who does that that boy think he is?”
As soon as the words come out of your mouth, she crosses her arms with a look of amusement.
“Oh please, y/n~. You still let that man work your nerves? He’s basically in love with you at this point. Why don’t you just date him?!”
You side eye your best friend in annoyance for making such an outrageous claim.
“Now Fatou, you know I can’t stand that boy. Also, stop calling him a man, because he far from it.”
Sighing in defeat, she plainly points her finger as she sees the topic of conversation approaching behind you.
“Well friend, you’re gonna be able to tell him that real soon, because your boy is coming right back ova’ here.”
Looking into the direction Fatou’s finger appointed you to, you sigh irritably at the sight of his presence. In spite of your best friend’s obvious pointing, he appeared to be looking solely at you, and you only.
Turning in the opposite direction you try to sneak off with Fatou. But your plan of avoidance was ruined only to see she had already went in the locker room. She had totally, 100%, did that on purpose, and you were gonna get her for it.
“Hey babe! Number 1 just brought home another championship trophy! Aren’t you proud of me princess?”
He forces a golden trophy cup with a basketball on its rim with the number 1 big and bold directly in front in your face.
“Ok one. I am not your baby. Two, it was a team effort asshole, and get that damn trophy out of my face!”
As you swap hands at the shiny object, he pulls it up against his chest for protection.
“Three, I didn’t cheer for you. But I did cheer for your teammates Yunho, Mingi, San, and Jongho.”
Bam, triple killed his ass. Hopefully that will have him leave you as alone so you can change in the locker room out of your tight costume. But with your luck, you instead see an amused look on his face, and he speaks even more.
“Awe well of course princess~. They had their fair share of effort. But you have to say without me coming in clutch toward the end, I probably wouldn’t have this trophy in my hands, would I?”
Scoffing aloud in disgust, you cannot believe what you’re hearing right now. Did he really just try to take credit in a game that required effort from all its team members?
“Ever heard of there’s no I in team? You need to be humbled bad. You are just so arrogant, and it’s about time someone gets your head out of your sorry ass.”
He’s the one to scoff this time and sets the trophy down on the ground in surrender. Soon after he rises back in front of you with his arms crossed and a put on his face.
“I am humble babe, but I’m just simply stating the facts.”
Oh my. Why couldn’t this guy get a grip already.
“Yeah, okay. Here’s a fun fact for you. Jung Wooyoung is the most self absorbed assholes I’ve ever met.”
You actually believe that you have gotten him good this time as the dialogue becomes quiet between the two of you. Yet, he still stands right in front of your face as his eyes travel over your body and he bites his mole-imprinted lip.
“How can I be self absorbed, when I’m all yours babygirl?”
He takes a few steps too close until there’s nothing but the trophy on the ground between you two. Suddenly, his face is contorted into a wide smile with all of these gleaming white teeth, and you are trying so hard resist the desire to fall into it.
Okay, what the hell is going on? You can feel the smart mouthed words you want to say in getting back at him on the tip of your tongue. It required a great deal of mental strength to get your thoughts straight.
“In your sorry ass… hoop dreams! Bye Jung Wooyoung, and by the way, you smell of must and dirty sweat!”
As you nearly turn on your heel, you reverse back as he lifts up the armpit of his short sleeve shirt to inhale the sweat accumulated from the game. Upon landing mistaken eye contact, he brings his forearm up in a quick motion over the tip of his nose in a slick manner.
“I-It’s not even that bad! Actually you know what? I think I’m gonna take a shower... Hey, uh, how about after I freshen up, you can wait for me when I get out of the locker room?”
“As soon as I get out the locker room, I’m going straight on the bus back to campus. Besides, what do you need me to wait on you for?”
He shoves his hands in his shorts pockets and stretch them outward. Rocking from the end of his heel to the tip of his toes, an childish grin outstretches showing off his high cheekbones.
“So we can sit together my love. Why else?”
Having heard enough of his antics, you choose to turn on the heel to the girls' locker room.
Somewhere where the whole squad are probably changing out of their tight ass costumes. You were certainly ready to step into your customized two piece tracksuits.
“Look, it’s not gonna happen, plus i’m already sitting with Fatou. How about you take a shower real quick, your funking up the whole goddamn gymnasium.”
As you walk away, Wooyoung watches your hips sway as your silk-pressed hair moves swiftly along with you. With your back turned you couldn’t see his glare, but you had a feeling he might’ve been looking.
“So that’s a yes then?!”
Without providing a response, you walk straight into the girls locker room.
You hadn’t meant to say it aloud but it was a genuine question you had wanted an probable answer to from literally anyone. One of your teammates, Wonyoung, spoke up to do just that.
Let's just consider ourselves lucky, hm? I've been crushin' on Jung Wooyoung since Physcology class freshman year. I had finally gotten the courage to confess to him and you know what he said? ‘Sorry I have my eyes on someone else.’ And if I’m certain, that someone else is you.”
Your best friend Fatou whispers an “told you so” and you glare at her the same you had earlier. As you place your hands on your hips, you turn and look in the direction of Wonyoung.
“Girl you can have him, but i honestly think you could do so much better. Your pretty with a bubbly personality, and you’ve got a high IQ. I honestly can’t tell what you see in him. Why can’t you see that he’s a narcissistic jerk without a care for anyone else’s well being?”
It appeared that most of Wonyoung and the squad did not seem to take your words seriously as they shrugged their shoulders or muttered a few senseless words in response to your remarks.
That is, until you hear the voice of Hwasa. She was a new member on the team this season that added spice to your group. Yet was always being logical, and you respected it greatly, especially in moments like these.
“That sounds exactly like him. He’s a douchebag that thinks his way is always the right way. You all should really be looking at his other teammates. They are very respectful, reserved, and handsome too.”
Shaking your hands in the air like a sanctified old church woman, you praise whatever entity put common sense into Hwasa.
“Thank you! Someone finally sees what I see. You’re all blinded by his looks, and I hope y’all will wake up very soon.”
After everyone is dressed and headed outside to the bus, Wonyoung is coming straight toward your locker where you finish getting dressed with a note in her hand. You pull your shirt down, and look at her quizzically while slowly taking the note.
“Look, I understand what your saying. But there’s gotta be another reason girls thirst over him so bad, and I wanna find out. If you’re really not interested in him, could you give him my number?”
Sighing heavily you slip the note in your pocket and nod a yes at Wonyoung.
She immediately hugs you and release from you as she recites the REBOUND cheer for Wooyoung as she skips back to her locker.
“If you only knew what I go through with that boy, you’d consider yourself the luckiest person in the world.”
You whisper this under your breath and your friend Fatou laughs quietly under hers.
“Let her be happy she’s been trying to get at him for a long time now.”
Throwing your duffle over your shoulder, Fatou does the same and you both walk out the door of the locker room.
“Yeah okay. Just think about how disappointed she’ll be when she realizes there’s absolutely nothing about him to be thirsty about.”
As if by a meer coincidence , the man of whom you are talking about walks out of the locker room in a fresh tracksuit at the same time as you two do. You hear his sneakers squeak against the floor as he sprints towards you from across the gym.
“Oh my. He is really geeked over you girl. I guess I’ll see you the the bus.”
Fatou walks off and you try and grab her hand but Wooyoung steps in front of you and takes it instead.
“Hey babe! We’re you gonna wait for me?”
While yanking his hand quickly from yours, you disregard the strength and firmness of his numerously veined hand.
“For the love of all things holy. Aern’t you supposed to be in the locker room going apeshit and celebrating your championship win with your team?”
Rolling your eyes, you take off to the direction in the hallways that leads to the bus outside. Wooyoung catches up in front you, and does his famous backward walk as he tries to make conversation.
“How about we celebrate our win over a nice little dinner date, huh?”
He smiles cockily, as he looks at your face and over your body. You’d wish he’d trip one day while doing that. But he was such a pro that he even used it skillfully on the court.
“Mmmm, I really don’t do dinner dates. They’re too cliche and really boring actually. So… no thanks!”
Continuing to walk down the hall, he jogs backward after stopping to think about what to say next.
“Cmon baby~, you’re such a tease. Just give me one date and I’ll leave you alone for good.”
At hearing this, you stop immediately walking down the hall, and raise an eyebrow at Wooyoung.
“You mean that? One date, and you’ll leave me alone for good?”
A smile spreads across your face as you recall the note Wonyoung gave you in your pocket that contained her telephone number. When you part ways after the date, maybe you can give it to him. In this way, you will be able to rid yourself of him for real.
“Yeah, let’s make a deal. One date and I never talk to you again, that is if you don’t fall in love with me of course~. What do you say?”
He extends his hand and you’ve never have wanted to touch him so quickly. Grabbing a hold on his hand, you smile widely while giving him a firm shake.
“I say, that sounds like a pretty damn good deal to me!”
After releasing your hand, he then pulls out his phone to put in your number.
“Alright I’m gonna text you all the details. But I want us to leave tommorow at 6PM. Also, sitting with me on the bus is now a part of the deal. Let me drive you to your dorm when we get back on campus.”
Wooyoung had a black Camaro sports car, and made it very obvious that he did. He would always pull up to functions on campus or at games where you didn’t have to take the bus, and rev his engine for a good 20 minutes in the parking lot.
“Fine. Tommorow at 6PM, I’ll be ready. Don’t think you can just keep adding to the deal either. I know how you are, Jung. I’m already sitting with Fatou on the bus I told you that, but I’ll accept your ride home.”
Frowning a bit of not being able to sit with you on the bus, it immediately is wiped with a snarky grin when you accept his ride to your dorm.
“Trust me sweetheart, I’ll keep my end of the deal. But just a little bit before 6PM, I’ll be outside your dorm waiting for you.”
It was beginning to rain a bit outside and you were only wearing a short sleeve shirt and track pants. Wooyoung however, had a full on tracksuit with a backwards SnapBack tucking his half blonde and black hair.
“Whatever, sounds good. Now cmon before the bus leaves us and we have to be stuck with each other smelling like wet dogs.”
When you walk outside you somehow don’t get wet, and you look up to see what kind of mystery protection was above you.
Wooyoung, you come to find out, had stripped off his tracksuit jacket when you weren’t looking, and hung it over your head.
“What? I can’t have my number 1 cheerleader get wet after dressing up so prettily for me and cheering me on today.”
Rolling your eyes you walk fast into the direction of the bus and Wooyoung maintains to keep the same pace trying to cover you from the rain.
“It’s only uniform, and that’s basically the point of the cheer squad you big dummy.”
You grab ahold onto the rail on the steps of the bus and take your seat next to Fatou in the back. She asks what took you so long but before you can even answer Wooyoung sits right across from you in a seat with Choi Jongho.
“I’ll tell you everything when we get back to the dorm.”
At the convienence of being across from you, Wooyoung tries to speak with you, but he’s cut short when Jongho starts arguing with him about wanting a seat to himself.
After a while of them continually arguing, and seeing Jongho start to punch him in the arm defensively. You take advantage of the situation and whisper about him to Fatou.
“Okay maybe I can tell you something now. I’m riding back with Wooyoung to the dorms. Will you be okay?”
Fatou also has an sports car. A bloody red Ford Mustang. She was always a girl on the wild side. That’s who you got your boldness and confidence from when Wooyoung be trying you.
“I should be asking you that but I’ll be fine. I actually might be coming home a little bit late too. Mingi wanted to go out tonight, and booked a hotel so we could celebrate privately.”
Mingi, one of Wooyoung teammates, was Fatou’s boyfriend of 2 years. That man was so in love with her, he’d follow her around like a lost puppy. But after getting to know your best friend. You understood him a little bit.
“Awe okay then. Make sure you guys use protection. You know Mingi can’t keep his hands to himself when he’s around you girl.”
Fatou swats her hand at your shoulder and laughs hysterically. You laugh at her too and shush her in between to keep quiet.
Wooyoung is staring at you now, and for the rest of the bus ride. However, you never openly acknowledge it. Not wanting to give him the extra ego boost he absolutely didn’t need.
Looking out the window, you recognize the scenery of the campus and the bus comes to a stop. Before you part ways, you hug your best friend and you see Mingi waiting by her car. What a simp, you think.
“You ready my passenger princess?”
Wooyoung comes from behind you and leans in to whisper the question in your ear.
Turning around quickly, you resist the urge to smack the dog shit out of him for sneaking up on you like that.
“Boi get out my damn ear. Just take me home…and I’m not your passenger princess!”
He skips over to his car happily and laughs as you follow suit while shaking your head.
On the way to your dorm, it was surprisingly quiet in the car the entire time.
Wooyoung seemed to be lost in his thoughts. Perhaps it was because he was tired from the game. He actually did put in a lot of work, but you will never tell him that.
You almost catch yourself from being overly worried. But instead you take advantage of the situation once again and enjoy the silence.
Arriving at yours and Fatou shared dorm apartment, Wooyoung kindly offers to take you up in the elevator for, “extra protection”.
When you’ve made it to your door from the lobby to the elevator. You unlock the door and stand beside it inside and wave him goodbye, but he just stands there googly eyed. You wave in front of his face in hopes of releasing him from his mysterious trance.
“Uh, hello? Woo? I have to go to bed now~.”
Somehow managing to get through to him with your previous words, he shakes his head in concentration and nods furiously as he begins to walk away.
“Y-yeah right. I’ll see you tommorow then babe. Dream of me okay? Because I’m gonna be dreaming of you darling~.”
Walking backward he places a hand on top of his SnapBack hat and shoots a finger gun at you.
“My goodness. Good night Woo.”
As you shut the door, he freezes in the hallway for a moment. Woo? That was a new one. Then again you said it twice.
He is definitely feeling himself now, and he heads back to his with his roommates San and Jongho to tell them all the details.
In your dorm you soon come to realize the new nickname that slips out your mouth too. You only ever call him by his government. It must been because you were so damn sleepy you thought.
As soon as you reach your side of the room you crash on the bed and reach over to your mini fridge to grab a snack. Turning on the Tv, you put on cartoon reruns from your childhood that you’ve watched timelessly.
It was difficult to fall asleep immediately as you usually do. You don’t know why but the events of tommorow made you kind of nervous.
Given the promise that you’ll never talk to him again after the date should make you happy. So why were you up thinking about it so hard?
After a while, your body shuts itself down to get some much needed rest, silencing your intrusive thoughts temporarily.
“Dammit that Wooyoung! I actually had a dream about our date!”
Springing up from sleep you actually dreamed about him like he stupidly asked. It wasn’t intentional, but it was the only thing on your mind before you went to bed last night.
Fatou, who had stumbled in not long ago tired from last nights unspoken events, wakes up. Groaning at the sounds of your yelling she grumbles at you, turning her face inside of her pillow.
“Girl please, it’s 9 in the morning! What the hell are you even talking about anyway?”
You explain the whole ordeal between you and Wooyoung that was made in the hall of the building where last nights game was held.
Furthermore, you go on to add on to the sequence with what he said when he dropped you off to to your dorm. “Dream of me okay? Because I’m gonna be dreaming of you darling~” you say mockingly to Fatou.
“It was literally him in a black and white tux, and me in a red sequin dress in the dream!
“He took me to dinner, in which I had told him to not do because it was cliche and boring. But worst part of it is, I actually had a great time afterward!”
Leaning back in your bed, you cover your eyes with the palm of your hand while the back of your head hits the plush pillow.
You hate Wooyoung for making you dream about him, and for it be actually enjoyable killed you inside.
“OK I totally agree. Dinner dates can be really boring and a bit cliche. But it can also be fun with the right person. Maybe the dream is a sign to give him a chance girl.”
Snapping your head at your dormmate, who is now sitting up with her eyes closed, cross legged. You groan at the thought of the dream being a sign as a possibility.
“Not a chance in hell. That dream was a nightmare. I am not gonna give the heavily conceited Jung Wooyoung any chances. This date is not even a date. It’s a business deal!”
Fatou had her head bent down with her hair all over the place and you realize she fell asleep on you.
You let out a groan and make way out of f bed to go out shopping for an outfit, and allow your poor friend to get some rest.
The trophy winning athlete wakes up late from a dream about you too, feeling very excited for today.
He's already planned it all out in his mind, and he can't wait to show you a good time. ‘Maybe you’ll finally give him a chance’ he thinks.
His dorm and teammate San interrupts his thoughts saying that the coach made reservations for brunch this morning in celebration for their win.
“Ugh, the old man can never let us rest in peace. Do we have to go to a brunch? Is it some sort of requirement?”
Jongho, his other room and dormmate, looks at him with a knowing look that tells him, yes, you do in fact need to go.
“Well I can just tell coach you prefer to celebrate alone than to be with the team. I’m sure he’ll be very appreciative of you taking our victory so lightly.”
Wooyoung groans at San’s remark and scoots quickly out of bed. He just wanted to sleep until it was time to get ready for your date. It was the only thing he was looking forward to today.
The basketball teams van pulls up outside and Jongho leads the way out of their shared dorm after they all got decently ready for brunch.
Entering the automatic slide in and out door on the side of the van, wooyoung settles into a seat and he looks around to see his other teammates in the van already.
He looks in the front of the van and he accidentally connects eyes with his coach in the mirrior.
“You weren’t trying to sleep in after winning a championship trophy from last nights game were you?
Wooyoung jumps up at the sound of his coaches deep voice contrasted to the quietness of the large van.
“No sir, I was just made aware of this mornings brunch.”
The coach turns his head to the back of the van where the whole team is, and makes eye contact directly with Wooyoung.
“That’s funny because I told the whole team yesterday in the locker rooms. Maybe if you weren’t chatting up that cheer leader you would’ve known that right?”
He looks around at his teammates and bulge his eyes as if he’s silently shouting why didn’t you tell me!
But they all force their eyes to cast down in fear of upsetting the coach.
Biting his lips nervously, Wooyoung looks back at the coach.
“That’s right sir. I apologize. I should’ve been listening attentively with the team.”
With his proper words of an apology the coach nods at him and turns back at his seat. “Yeah, you should’ve. Don’t let it happen again.”
And with that the van starts up and all his teammates put their heads back up.
Wooyoung sneakily flips a middle finger at all of them, and they raise their hands in defense.
…
During the whole time at brunch, Wooyoung wasn’t engaged as he usually was. Which was probably a good thing, considering how he always boasted about some cool moves he made in helping the team to victory.
He’d only speak when spoken to. All he could do is stare at the clock on the diners wall slowing ticking and much too far away from 6pm.
After eveyone finished their meal, they get back into the van to head back to their respected dorms.
The two of his teammates/friends Yunho and Mingi had been dropped off to a park to play ball 1v1. The two always had a lot of stamina on the court. Even after a big game like last night, they’d still play basketball with each other for fun.
Jongho, San, and himself were dropped back off into the dorms. Jongho and San wanted to play video games together while Wooyoung was left alone by his choice in his eagerness to be alone with you.
Riding up to the elevator together, Wooyoung walks out to the front of the dorm first, and he spots a brown boxed package.
Quirking up at the realization of what it is he rushes down to pick up the box and inspect it while reading its label. He looks up at his two roommates with a sudden lit up smile that didn’t match his previous tired attitude.
“Yo guys! This is that custom made necklace I bought for y/n!”
The two look down and sees the brown box in Wooyoung’s fidgeting hands. He then stands up as he starts jittering around with excitement like he’s receiving the gift.
Having enough of his childish ways, and just wanting to get in the dorm to play the game, Jongho turns the key into their dorm and holds open the door wide for his two roommates to walk in.
“Dude you really bought her that expensive ass necklace? She doesn’t even like you back, and you think a necklace is gonna win her over?”
Wooyoung excitement is short lived at the mention of Jongho’s pessimistic words.
“Yeah I sure did, and what about it? This is meant to be a gift with good intentions. I’m not trying to ‘win her over’ asshole.”
The red haired roommate throws his head back and laughs as he closes the door behind him and turns on the gaming counsel for him and San to start their game.
San, Woo young’s blonde hair friend who sits on the couch next to Jongho, says the same thing he said but in a nicer way.
“That’s not what she’s gonna think when she sees it. Good luck with that.”
While pulling the box close to his chest, the shorter athlete walks up closely in front of the TV where his taller and much stronger friends sit.
“Oh I’ll have plenty of luck, because she’s gonna love it and forgive me when she sees it.”
And with that he turns around and heads back out the door, making his way back down the elevator, and through the lobby to your dorm across campus in his sports car.
Now standing in front of your door he makes some self adjustments while looking at himself on his phone before knocking.
You had just gotten back from shopping which was a complete bust. It was hard to pick an outfit especially not knowing exactly where he was taking you.
It was 2PM and Fatou had woken up from her nap, and you both sat and ate ramen conversating about tonight’s date before you heard a knock at the door.
Taking no chances for a murderer to be waiting outside your door, you look into the peephole of who could possibly be here at this hour. As you blink one eye in the small mirrored circle, you see Jung Wooyoung blowing a kiss at you.
Pulling your head down your inhale deeply as you move back to slowly open the door. Oh boy.
“Jung Wooyoung, why are you here? I thought you said you wanted the date to start at 6PM not 2PM?”
Flashing a charming smile, he pulls a brown box from behind his back, and then presents it in further in front of you. As if he were a child, like he’s showing his parents a terribly cute drawing he made.
"Good afternoon to you too babe. I just wanted to give you an early gift. I know we're not supposed to start the date until 6, but I wanted to give you this beforehand.”
Questionably taking the box from his hands, you read his face for any ill intention. Taken aback, all you see is a dumb dopey smile.
“Thank you, I guess. Although, I didn’t get you anything…”
He shakes his head no and waves you off with one of his hands.
"Oh don't worry about it babe, it's just a little something. I don’t need anything in return, but also that's not really the point."
He knows what you’re thinking, San and Jongho had told him so. And so to prove them wrong, he continues on with a gentle tone, and a serious face.
"This is a gift, as an apology for being an asshole to you on the court. I was thinking, maybe you could wear it tonight?"
Wear it? You thought. In curiosity you open the box in anticipation.
In it, you see another box but in black. You look up to tilt your head at him but he only nods for you to continue.
Taking the black box out of the package you open it to see it’s contents.
Your eyes sparkle at a diamond necklace that has a cheerleader holding up a Pom Pom with one hand, and the number 1 with the other.
Analyzing it more intensely…you start to see that she almost looks exactly like you.
“Oh my gosh. Wait, I can’t accept this. I mean how much-”
He interjects before you can finish rejecting his gift.
"I hope you like it! I went to the Jeweler, and customized it myself! I know it's not much…” He says shoving his hands down in the pockets of his breathable Nike shorts. "But I hope it shows how much I care about you…and how sorry I am for being a pain in the ass."
The change in character is honestly such a shock for you. But you can tell by how much he truly means it by his body language and unusually uncalm demeanor.
"Wooyoung…." you held onto the necklace firmly and move it to your face to give it a closer look. The diamonds blinged and glistened brightly as you tilt it on all directions.
"I appreciate it, really. I've had my fair share of being a pain in the ass too... and I hate to say it but I care for you. Its just the fact that I wish you weren’t cocky as hell!”
Chuckling nervously, he nods his head in agreement.
"Yeah, I guess I have been pretty cocky. But, now I want to be different. Can you give me a chance to redeem myself tonight?”
His smile wavers a bit as he waits for your answer.
A chance. Fatou told you the same thing this morning, while she was still half asleep.
‘Maybe I should give him a chance’ you thought. The fact that the necklace was custom made showed how much thought he put into the gift.
“Of course, but, the deal is still ongoing don’t forget. Now get your ass out of here so I can get ready!”
Kicking your foot out of your door playfully, you make sure your foot stops directly in front of his body to ensure you don’t actually hurt him.
Oh right, the deal. he reminds himself inside his head. The same deal where he doesn't talk to you ever again after the date.
"Alright alright I'm going!" he dodged your kicks playfully while blocking you with his hands.
"I can't see what you're gonna wear tonight babe, I already know you're gonna look sooo hot~."
He utters next comment when he's in safe distance from your kicking.
“Boy bye! Go home to get ready for tonight you big dummy!”
He pretends to run up on you and flinches forward. You close the door before he get the chance to do anything even though you knew he wouldn’t.
"Hey! You'll pay for that later!" he shouts back through the closed door, but you can hear him laughing afterwards.
Unbeknownst to you though, his smile is removed from his face so quickly after that. You reminded him that this was all a deal to you.
But this whole time he really wanted so much more from you. Luckily you had forgiven him, and given a chance to redeem himself tonight. But after that, then what? Were you really just not talk to each other again?
After trudging back to his dorm, he happily stands in front of the TV to rub the good news in Jongho and San’s faces without telling them about the ongoing deal.
Nearly getting jumped soon after for messing up their winning streak, He catches his breath from running around the house, and tries on his pre planned outfit.
Here he is now, standing at the living room body lengthen mirrior at his reflection.
"Calm down Wooyoung, You're gonna mess up if you can't relax." He reminded to himself out loud.
“San do you hear him? He’s over their freaking out and talking to himself.”
Wooyoung looks over at Jonghos reflection moving its mouth as he talks to San while playing their interrupted game from earlier.
“Dude. Right now is not the time… San, how am I looking?”
At this San finds a good place to pause their video game while Jongho groans in frustration.
San ignores him and takes the time to glance over his outfit. Looking up at the expression on Wooyoungs face, he could see that he was really indecisive and needy. Which for Wooyoung, that was a rare sight to see.
“You look like you might actually have a chance at winning over Y/n’s heart tonight.”
Jongho puts away his big boy attitude and takes the time to check on him too. “I agree, she might end up liking you back after all.”
Resuming back into the video game his teammates share a quick secret words of exchange upon seeing Wooyoungs reaction of surprise.
Even though they were teasing, their few words of affirmation was all he needed to get his confidence back.
Inside of your dorm, you were looking at yourself to in the vanity mirror with your last minute outfit as well.
Being the caring friend she is, Fatou helped you style your hair into a barbie ponytail with a swooped bang.
When you were freaking out about what to wear, she gave you a pair of platformed black boots, and some really short shorts with fishnet tights to put underneath.
“Trust me girl, it makes Mingi weak in the knees every single time.” she had remarked as you were rummaging in your closet earlier.
You pick a top of your choosing and settled on a black v neck sweater that leaves you cleavage exposed. Without your intention, it showed off the bedazzled necklace Wooyoung gave you when he came to your dorm earlier.
“I don’t know Fa. It seems like a little bit too much for a pretend date. I don’t even know where we’re going.”
Your best friend sits up on her bed as you look at yourself in your vanity mirror. She then gets up and you see her walking up to you in reflection.
“Look. You already told him you thought dinner dates were too boring and cliché, right? So he’s going to try and take you somewhere that is the complete opposite. Don’t take this so seriously boo, You really need to let loose and relax a little bit.”
Ingesting her words of advice, you nod and close your eyes as you let out a deep exhale from the middle of your chest to relax. Your heart is pounding and you don’t even know why. You look at the note Wonyoung gave you with her number on it, and put it in your back pocket.
"Chill out, y/n it's not even a real date, it's a business deal. It's just Jung Wooyoung."
You repeat the phrase in the mirror like a prayer, and Fatou rubs your back and pulls you close for a hug. You almost turn to her and tell her that you can’t do this. But before you get the opportunity, you hear a knock at the door.
Fatou grabs her phone from her bed and checks the time.
“It’s 5:50PM, it’s probably him.”
Taking another deep breath, you look in the mirror at your outfit then Fatou as she nods yes at you as a gesture of motivation. Nodding back you mutter a thank you, and walk over to answer the door after confirming it was him through the peephole.
“Hey babe, you ready to go-woah, wow.” He looks over at your outfit and stares intensely at your thighs for a moment poking out of the fishnets. In a panic you start to shake as you feel like he thinks you did too much.
“Dayum. I love your outfit. I knew you would look hot.”
He grins at his own comment, and stares at your gifted necklace. Not really knowing why he felt the need to be so honest, he just couldn't stop himself.
Its now you turn to look at his outfit. His black and blonde hair is free and he’s dressed in an tight white tee, layered underneath a sleek leather black jacket. At the bottom he’s wearing black jeans with a hole in his right knee and black converse.
(A/N: Basically Wooyoung’s AOTM outfit)
The outfit is so simplistic but it has a edge of sexiness. It was only something he could pull off, but you won’t never admit it out loud.
“Yes, I'm ready…and thank you. You clean up nicely as well.”
Out of habit, he wants to give a snarky reply like a, "I know I look good." But he remembers his promise from your earlier conversation. He has to redeem himself from his cockiness.
“Thank you princess~. Now, let's head out and celebrate!”
He exclaims loudly and extends his arm out for you to put yours through.
You walk out and turn to close the door. You see Fatou pointing at you two before turning and wrapping her arms around herself as if she’s kissing someone.
Grasping ahold of the handle you close the door briskly and turn to link arms with Wooyoung.
“You still haven't told me where we're going, you big idiot!”
Pulling you close he smirks and gives a teasing grin.
“Don’t worry babe~. You’ll see seen enough.”
…
As he drives down the road to the surprise destination, Wooyoung nerves begin to pick up at the reality of life in this moment.
A girl that i’ve has been crushing on since last season is finally in my car going on a date with me. Even though this is a deal, I gotta find a way to not screw it up. At least in hope for something to possibly change in the future.
Oblivious to the both of you. Wooyoungs nerves were working him, just as your was for you.
I can't believe I'm going on a date with the same boy l've been beefing with since he joined the team last season.
He'd only to notice you on the court for some reason. You almost found it flattering until he showed his cockiness to you after winning his first game.
So far, he’s been keeping his promise of turning his cockiness down from a 10. Maybe he wasn’t that bad of a person behind it all…maybe I might reconsider the deal he ma-
Your thoughts are cut short when you see an array of tall rides in bright lights.
The surprise date was…the carnival?
Wooyoung is geeked in his seat the sight of it. You however are very conflicted upon his choice. You suppose you dress correctly for the location, but what would you have for dinner.
The idea was decided in his mind when you asked for anything that wasn’t boring or cliché. Even though it was cliché in the slightest, he knew it was something you hadn’t thought of.
He’s proud of himself when he looks over to stare at your smile. It was very childlike and nothing he has ever seen before.
“Anddd, we're finally here. What do you think of the surprise? Perfect right?”
As much as you were excited to be here, nothing could have prepared you to celebrate at a carnival.
“Jung Wooyoung. The carnival? Really?! I thought we were gonna have a sit down celebratory dinner.”
As confused you play yourself out to be, your also very geeked out too. Its been a very long time since you’ve been to the fair. Being the cheer squad Co-Captain set aside a lot of time out to have fun.
“Yeah! The carnival is the perfect place for a date and celebrating. Besides, I wanted to show off how many prizes I can win for you playing basketball at that booth. So yeah, the carnival is where it’s at. The food will be great too, trust me.”
Uh oh, he’s being a little egotistical again. But you don’t mind this time because he’s doing it for the promise of getting you a prize. You bounce in your seat as you remember wanting the hello kitty prize the last time you were here.
“Okay, fine. I trust you. But, you better win me the super big hello kitty plushy, or l'll go back to college and tell everyone your free throw game is trash.”
Wooyoung is taken aback to hear that he actually earned your trust. He expected for you to bicker, but instead you tease him with your threat.
He sucks his teeth in retort under his breath as pulls into the parking lot of the carnival.
“Oh darling, Puh-lease. You’ve seen me out there front row on the court. I'll get you that kitty baby, no worries.”
You don’t say anything back because you know it's true. Wooyoung didn’t know how much you watch his every move on the court. Everyone does.
And like a gentlemen he isn’t, Wooyoung opens your door and leads you to the front entrance of the carnival. Even more so, he pays for the both of your all inclusive wristbands for the rides.
It's loud and it smells of Cotton Candy. Your met with the sight of all the rides in action and the sound of screams, pitching high over the pop music.
Everything around in this environment gives you deja vu. Like a Disney princess you almost get lost being caught in a daze at the new exciting things around you.
But Wooyoung drags you out of your fantasy, and straight over to the basketball shooting booth. While rolling your head back you grin and make groaning noises as you try to pull back from him jokingly.
He wasn’t having it as he pulled you roughly in the line at the booth. You remove your hand from his and lean closer behind him to whisper in his ear.
“Remember Jung Wooyoung, everyone at the college will know that their beloved basketball player can't even make a basket at the carnival if you don't win that hello kitty plushy~.”
As he inches foward to be next in line he begins to actually grow nervous, but he keeps up his confident facade in prevention of showing it.
He turns his head to the side then downward but peering down at you and whispering, “Princess, you and I both know that's not gonna happen.”
He turns his back and pays the worker a $20 bill. Backing away, you stand at the side to give him space.
With no slip ups, Wooyoung starts lining up shots like an expert. His confidence grows by every shot he hits, and he smiles back at you mischievously after the first round.
In the next round the ball continuously fits perfectly in the hoop, a crowd erupts around him, cheering loudly as they do in his games in reality. After he maintains his streak of back to back scored shots, you found yourself cheering for him too.
Each time he completes another round with no misses, people are cheering louder and louder.
Little did they know Wooyoung was starting to sweat profusely now, but he still manages to stay composed.
At his final shot, he does his tradition of dribbling the ball three times on the ground before kissing it. “Gross!" you exclaim, and he looks in your direction with a smug face and a wink. “This one is for you babe!”
Wooyoung always calls you babe and it's normally annoying. But this time it sent butterflies to your stomach. You watch as he pauses, before flicking his wrist and letting the ball fly.
Without looking where the ball lands, he turns to look at you. Accidentally getting lost in his uniquely sharp eyes, you forget to see if the ball made it into the basket.
Suddenly, it was already seen for you as the crowd erupts in cheers and a group of guys slap him on the back as a reward. All the while that this chaos is happening, he is still gawking at you. Soon enough though, he turns around and hands you the big hello kitty plush.
"This is all yours. As promised, princess."
His heart skips a beat when he looks at your reaction. You're smiling brightly, and hes entranced on how beautiful you look right now. Your high cheeks bone are like apples, and the showing of your teeth makes him feel warm inside. He glanced at your eyes full of excitement ogling at him with joy.
"You better hold onto that tight, babygirl."
At the mention of the nickname, you start squeezing the giant hello kitty plush tightly to your chest. You began to notice how he’s watching over you so profoundly. Breaking away from his gaze in shyness, you look down at the humongous stuffed kitten.
"How in the hell am I supposed to carry this thing on all the rides?!"
He chuckles as he runs his fingers through his half black-blonde hair.
There are some people that still come up to him in congratulations for winning the challenge. But he still feels a bit nervous about the real challenge coming up. You know, the one where you have to get on all the rides together?
"Ah. Maybe we should have done that last huh? I'm sure the workers that control the rides can hold it for us.”
You look up at him in a blank stare, holding your head like a disappointed mother in reaction to his awkwardness.
"Yeah, ya think so number 1? But maybe, the workers can hold it for us when we get on the rides together.”
‘Together’, he repeats in his head. Together with you, he was so thrilled right now that the both of you were actually getting along, and so far the date has gone smoothly just as he wanted it to.
Luckily, the workers that operated the buttons for the rides were willing to hold Hello Kitty.
He was so glad they did because of the way you clung to his body when you were scared of the dips, flips, and turns of things. It only felt right that his profession outside if basketball, was taking care of you.
…
It has been a while since you first got here and you’ve mostly had gotten on everything.
"Oh man, I won’t lie. Now that one I have to say was actually kind of terrifying. Let's take a break. How about we get a bite to eat?”
Only having the ability to nod in agreement, you don’t tell Wooyoung that it feel as if you might throw up. It'd been so long since your last visit coming here, and it was like your first time on each of the rides all over again. Woo laughed at how loudly you were screaming when you got scared. But he also comforted you in the weight of his arms at the same time.
"Oh my goodness, please, yes! My stomach is flipping out right now!" You cling the hello kitty plushy tightly in exaggeration.
All at once Wooyoungs obnoxiously loud laughs echo in the air, and it doesn’t irk your nerves. It’s was like finding a new song and falling in love instantly. You wanted to hear it on repeat.
Eventually you walk towards the main food court area, and he offered to buy everything you and him both wanted like you are at an all you can eat buffet. You tried to pay for it yourself in exchange for him paying for all the rides. But everytime you brought your wallet out, he rants about redeeming himself.
With food bundled messily in his hands, in which he didn’t let you carry, Wooyoung finds a place for you two to sit down and eat deliciously to take in the ambience of the colorful scenery.
This is what he had in mind of a celebratory meal. On the other hand, you were not expecting this whatsoever. But goddamn did it taste good.
"Hey, let's go on the Ferris wheel!"
Choking on your lemonade you look at the man like he was out of right mind. You hadn’t even rested for long, and he wanted to get on more rides.
In fact this whole time he's been pulling you around to get on all the rides that made your stomach drop and cast dizzy spells on your brain. It was surprising to hear that he wanted to do something so slow and uneventful.
"Damn, we're not even done eating yet! Plus, why do you wanna get on the Ferris wheel? I thought you liked the thrill of the faster rides?"
It's Wooyoung turn to complain, and he rolls his eyes at your complaints.
"I wanted to get on after we're done eating obviously! Also it's tradition to do so toward the end of a date. I do like the faster rides but, there's something special about the view from up there, and it will make our date more memorable.”
Something about his choice of words made you contemplate as you later sip on the last bit of lemonade. What did he mean by making this date memorable when you were gonna forget about each other after tonight?
As you think deeply about it, Wooyoung eats the last bit of his share of the funnel cake with powder sugar on the side of his lips.
A mischievous thought comes to mind, and you act on the idea of wiping the powder off the side of his lips with your thumb, and put it inside your mouth.
In a instant, you get up and stare down at him with a grin with the hello kitty plushy in hand.
"Okay let's go! Last one to get there is the most unskilled member on their team.~”
Without delay you run away teasingly toward the Ferris wheel and the line of people move forward into its base to enter the carts.
As he gets left behind, Woo’s face turns redder than ever before. Pulling himself together he tries to pridefully stand up and goes after you with a wide grin spread on his face. You were faster than he expected, but that didn’t stop him from catching up with you and scooping you up from behind bridal style.
It shocked you in the way he swooped you off the ground by the back of your thighs and then after, looking at you romantically taking your heavy breaths away.
The very moment the two of you look into each others eyes, the sparks in the air electrifies the intensity.
Sensing the shift change in the atmosphere, you decide to take charge and mask the change of the situation as you notice the softness in his sharp features.
"You still lost, you damn cheater" With the help of Hello Kitty you push his shoulders back and jump down to the ground.
Falling back, he belts out his signature laugh as you land feet first on the ground nearly losing your balance. After a bit of cooling down he tilts his head downward at you with a smirk.
"I'd say it was a tie. I didnt’t hear you set any rules before the start of the game.”
All at once, you and him bicker even as you get on the Ferris wheel and hand the worker your plushy.
You take the seat inside and he goes on the outside.
Continually bickering it was all becoming to be a little much when you grew embarrassed to being the loudest ones on the ride. But somehow when the wheel spun y’all’s cart to the top, you both shut up to admire the view.
"Wow the view of the city is gorgeous from here." You softly whisper in amazement.
"Told ya so."
It sounds like he still has some remaining words left he wants to say from the bickering as he whispers the phrase into your ear. All the while, you look out and stare out into the view peacefully. It influences his eyes to shift over the skyline, but then he can’t help to get a better look at you.
Sighing deeply, he leans against the cushion behind the seat and close his eyes to enjoy the breeze blowing through his hair. After a few seconds or so, he open them back up and turn towards you.
"So…what do you think?"
Okay now he was really getting on your last nerve. “Of the view? I already told you, I said it was gorgeous. "Don't rub in another “I told you so” either, or you will get popped.”
He throws his head back in amusement, running a hand through the soft strands of his hair once again. He loved that you were so quick and witty. It was something the two of you both had in common.
"Oh no, I didn't mean the view. I meant about the date. Are you having fun?" A smile still remains on his face as he adjust his head to look at you. The distance in your faces can be closed with a kiss, and below you both is the perfect view. It was like something out of a teen coming of age movie.
“I’m…enjoying it. It’s bittersweet to hang around you though. A happy moment doesn’t last for long.~” Before he can get cocky you utter out the additional comment. But truthfully you were thinking that, “this is one of the best experiences of my life.”
Like the diva he is, a hands bends upward to slap his chest in exaggeration. "Excuse me? I can be very sweet at all times actually. You just never gave me a chance to show it until now.”
Giving him a ‘Now you know damn well’ hudging face, you scoff at his dramatics and the previously said words. Leaning a bit closer to him you boop the top of his sharp narrow nose. “And you know exactly why that is, number 1?”
Grinning widely he tries to turn the sudden seriousness into a joke. Closing up the space between your bodies he gives you a light side bump on the shoulder. He dials down his voice, and it gets low and husky when he speaks.
"Because I'm just so irresistible babygirl?"
Seeing as your face doesn’t change as it usually does at the name he drops the tone into a slightly into a mature one. "I'm kidding~. But, would you say that you could forgive me for all I've done after tonight? Do you think I uphold my promise of redeeming myself?"
Without an quick witted answer you think about the question considerably, and take in more of the view.
As of right now in this moment you feel so carefree and cheerful with Wooyoung and you had rarely fought. Well maybe not rarely, but you always came back together quicker than you usually do. In your mind you can honestly say he might’ve changed for the better.
Turning back you mold an unreadable expression to decorate your face as you look back at him.
"I already forgave you. You were quite the gentlemen tonight, and I wish I could have seen more of that in the past but-
Yes, you have successfully redeemed yourself.”
Nodding silently he bows his head lowly in your direction as a sign of respect.
"Thank you."
It’s so delicate in the way he whispers, you almost hadn’t heard him.
Without putting any thought into it, your bodies collide within each other and the both of you stay like that for a while.
It felt natural to cuddle in the warmth of each against the cool air and cherish the view.
You did not understand why he wanted this moment to be memorable before, but as you both began to feel content and at peace with each other, you finally understood.
Getting back into the car was the complete opposite of how it was on the way there. It was eer silence between the two of you. There’s an elephant in the room that you both don’t address.
Well that was until he pulled in a parking space at your dorms and none of you make a move to get out his car.
"So...”
Wooyoung winces at the sound of your voice. He knows what's coming even before you say it. In preparation for the date, he ready’d himself to be disappointed by what you say next.
But he honestly hadn't expect it to come this soon.
"Thank you for tonight. But, with the deal…”
Fluttering his eyes close he nodded his head in understanding with the acceptance of what is happening.
"A deal is a deal.”
You unclick your seatbelt and sit on your knees into the seat looking while facing his direction.
Wooyoung usually would get pissy with you for indenting his leather seat, but at the moment doesn’t seem to care.
Thoughtfully choosing about your next words with care, given it could be the start or the end of everything.
“I don't wanna go through with the end of it. I want to share more moments like tonight with you if it feels like this…How did you feel about tonight?”
You see Wooyoungs shoulders fall from the tension with a deep sigh of what looks like relief.
Soon after a small smile tugs at the corner of his lips, and he raises his head and looks at the dashboard.
"I feel…stupid. I have no idea what I was thinking when I made that deal. I must’ve just said that because I knew you were annoyed with me. I'd love to share more moments like tonight with you, y/n. I’ve always wanted to.”
It was a rare occasion that he’d use your first name. You knew there was a possibility he had feelings for you but in reality, you had thought he just wanted to get a good look at what your hiding beneath your uniform.
But the “I’ve always wanted to” did something to your heart that didn’t register in your mind.
Out of nowhere, you sit up from your seat and lean over close to his face that was engulfed in deep worry.
You think about comforting him with your lips in a chaste kiss. But instead you melt in his charm while looking a pleading puppy to see if this is something that he wanted.
Frozen by your sudden action at the close proximity between your faces, Wooyoungs eyes dilate in focus.
He can tell from your expression that you are hesitant about something. Its hard for him in figuring out what it might be, but seeing as your eyes flick from his plush, pink, and mole imprinted lips. Your dazed out eyes gives him the answer to the question.
“Would you let me kiss you, princess?”
Not even a millisecond passes when you shake your head yes eagerly in agreement.
Without a second to waste, he reaches his hands decorated in veins to the back of your ponytail pressing your lips in a warm gentle French kiss.
Your eyes are still open from shock as he pulls his luscious lips to meet your fuller ones.
As your mouths mingle together, you feel as if you are kissing and licking a cloud, made from fluffy cotton candy left over from the carnival on his tastebuds.
The both of you feel as if you are two lovebirds high in the sky flying around in each others presence.
With your bodies being pressed together tightly, you remain in your separate seats. The collision of your tongues is ongoing like a game of tag. The sense of time seems to vanish until suddenly you shatter the hourglass as you break the kiss.
Backing away to take a slow deep breath, you look at the boy you can now proudly call a man now after he met your standards for tonight.
Looking right back at you, he dips his eyes down enticingly before stopping at your thighs, begging for someone to rescue them from suffocation.
As for you, you’d been eyeing that tight white tee that showcases the firm muscles on his torso.
The simmering of passionate kissing of the was turned down to a low heat as you stare at each others unique ethnic features.
Out of desperation, you had collected enough air back into your lungs in a span of a few seconds. Grasping onto his broad shoulder from your seat, you pull yourself on your knees to the new seat of his black jean dressed lap.
He looks divine as you look at his sharp features from above that are illuminated from the street lights.
In a caring manner you raise your hands up slowly as you cup his razor cut jaw. In the same moment, the pads of your thumbs wipe over his wet and juicy lips. In continuation, you lean in and connect your mouth to chase the loss of heat.
The sudden change in position catches him off guard. It takes him a moment to realize what has happened only in a matter of seconds. As your lips lock again, he pushes himself to sit up and grabs hold of your ass where it connects to your thighs.
Wanting more of you, he grinds upward into you letting you feel where he needs you most. Removing his lips from yours this time, he pecks the spot under your ear and you hear his heavy breath hitch before whispering softly.
"Please...babygirl, please.”
The unexpected happens as you hear the soft plead. A sudden wet pool of gush in your tights from your arousal. You know what hes asking for, and you want it too, so badly. But a game of play hard to get was something you act on verbally.
"Please? What is it that you want?”
Unbeknownst to you, Wooyoung was hoping his next words wouldn’t scare you away.
"Please babygirl, let me make love to you. I want to feel you on me, your bare body against mine. I want to hear the sound of your pretty voice calling on my name. I want to give you pleasure, like you've never known before."
A heartfelt confession such as that is not what you expected him to reply with at all. You could feel your heart beat rapidly beneath your chest as he sits there waiting for your answer.
“Make love to me, and give me pleasure like I've never known before then babyboy."
Never have you ever given Wooyoung a pet name. He knew you were still teasing him, but it seemed to have taken a great effect on him feeling as he squeezes tightly on your ass through your booty shorts.
Pressing his body impossibly further into yours, he reaches for the back of your neck, and the kisses become that were once gentle and sweet, became passionate and deep. As a test, he begins to grind his hips up slowly, rolling his hardness against your wetness in your jean shorts.
By instinct, the motion of your hips synchronized with his instantly. The fishnet tights combined with the stitching of your booty shorts and his jeans brushing against your clit became all too much. Your hand reaches up and tugs at a sleeve on his leather jacket.
"Off.”
Wooyoung chuckles lightly at how demanding you attempted to be. He reaches between your bodies and take off his jacket throwing it somewhere in the backseat with your promised prize of a huge hello kitty plush.
"Your turn now babygirl, strip for me.”
Tsk. So he knew of the game you were playing earlier and now that your desperate he flipped it back onto you.
“I don’t think you wanna play that game babyboy. That hump in your jeans is begging for attention.”
In a seductive motion you lift up your sweater and throw it in the backseat with his jacket, to reveal a black lace bralette.
Your plan works as you see that he tries to reach up and cup each of your breast, but you smack his hands down, and he smirks in amusement.
"Don’t worry about me princess, I’ll be okay. I think the wet spot in your shorts is much louder though."
There was no need to look down to be what he was talking about, you were soaked in it.
“Just play the stupid game and take something off.”
With just one hand under his shirt, he takes it off swiftly in one go. His fox like eyes are back on you as bundles up the material into a shape of a basketball. Mimicking a swoosh sound of the net, he throws it back along with his jacket and your sweater.
The sight that was in front of you was so dreamlike. The tight built of his chest looked like like the Mercedez-bens symbol, and his chiseled abs were equally delicious to dinner rolls. If anyone else was seeing this for the first time too, they know for sure that he was an athlete.
"Hey what are you doing? We’re supposed to be playing the ‘stupid game’ remember? Come on babe, it’s your turn now.”
Seeing as your the one under temptation now you scoff at his teasing. As if he wasn’t just making grabby hands to your boobs, and grinding up into you.
Next, you sit up and take off the booty shorts not caring where they land. Carelessly you plop back down into his lap and land right atop of his bulge.
“How’s that for a stupid game? You’re really working my on my last nerve."
Wooyoung is on the edge of taking an L as he fights the urge to ruin you right then and there.
But this is a game of resistance in which he didn’t mean to start. For the sake of his pride, he smacks your ass harshly through your fishnet tights to punish you for almost making him cum in his pants before entering you.
“You know what babe? Since I figured we’re only gonna be playing dirty, I’ll be fucking you tonight, and make love to you on another day.”
Make love to you on another day? What exactly did he have planned after this?
In a hurry he undoes the button and the zipper on his black ripped jeans. With you on top of him it proved to be quite difficult. Although, it gave him the wicked idea of bucking his hips into causing you to bounce upward. There’s no way he thought you wouldn’t submit to him after that.
However, at the harsh contact you lean forward and grab on the back of the drivers seat. It felt embarrassingly good as you moan breathlessly into his ear. You can feel his smirk against your cheek as you regain your posture and sit back and smack his bare chest in embarrassment.
“Aughhh! What the fuck Woo!~”
A useless attempt of taking charge was made as you pushed him back into the seat. You really thought you’d done something until you felt his hand on your upper back.
Your brown breast are freed from the bralette and jiggle before falling into place on your chest, and right in front of his face.
Without shame his eyes are trained on the marveling of your chest. Not too much of his surprise, they more beautiful than he could've ever imagined. But his eyes flip back up just as quickly as he starts tweaking your nipples between his fingers.
"Oh I didn’t really have to do much, your nipples are already hard for me babe. You ready for a wild ride cowgirl?”
And any other circumstances, you would cuss his ass out for calling you a cowgirl. But you were incredibly horny for him that all you could do is nod your head before uttering a tired, “Yes~.”
Getting straight to the point he pulls down his black underwear down from under you without having to buck up.
A smacking sound emits from the removal of pants as his dick hits the hard muscles of his stomach. In mist of the sensation, he couldn’t help but hiss at the relief. His head is thrown back against the seat before looking at you in despair.
"Fuck babygirl~. Look at what you do to me."
The reveal of his dick left you braindead. It is angry with veins like the ones on his arms and hands. In his every breath, it pulsates a bright red at the tip and it drips of precum. Not to mention the biggest problem of all… it's size and length were enormous.
"Shit.”
Hearing the disbelief in your lack of words made him grin. With your eyes still on his impressive length, he wraps his hands around his hard on and start pumping himself roughly.
Tears start to form in his eyes from the pleasure, and he groans loudly while staring deeply into your brown eyes.
"You want it princess? Because it’s all yours."
Without any word you just nod enthusiastically, but Wooyoung wasn’t having it.
“Ut uh. “You know how to speak, I haven’t even fucked you yet.
The throbbing between your legs that it was starting to hurt. So to relieve the pain, you submit to his taunting.
“Yes, I want it. Give it to me Woo.”
Even though his body tells him the opposite, he finds the self control stop pleasuring himself at the cuteness of your voice saying his new nickname.
Earlier you had said it at the dorm, but that was before you shut the door in his face. Now here you are on top of him, and your not going anywhere soon.
An idea crosses his mind as he looks down at your pussy covered in matching lace panties to your black bralette. The fishnet pattern tights layered over it made it look like your pussy was on lockdown.
"Of course babygirl, you can have it.”
“But first-”
He looks down and maneuvers both hands near your pussy and rips apart the fishnets tights. Your lace panties are pushed to the side and he uncovers your wet puffy folds while smiling with his teeth.
"Oh my word, your drenched. I’m sure you won’t have any problems taking me in.”
Cockily, he leans back and smirk while adjusting the seat backwards.
The cool air makes the warm wetness between your legs depleted in temperature at the exposure.
It makes you shy to make the first move. But seeing him leaning back with his dick on his perfect abs, you were sure to break out of it.
Aligning his dick upward toward your entrance, you rub his tip onto your hole and swallow him down in one go.
"Aah!- Holy shit!”
Your pussy was squeezing the literal lives out of him as he grits his teeth and spews out elongated words.
“Ohhh my goodnessss, fuck me~”
Are you alright princess?!”
At the pleasure of him stretching you out and filling you full, you hold off on the answer to his question as you grind your hips experimentally.
Nearly destroyed by the fate of your teasing, Wooyoung fails to hold back a whine erected from pure bliss. You grin happy to the sound, and reign in your power to emit something so angelic from him.
“Fucking you is what I’m trying to do babyboy, You just feel so good inside of me like this.~”
Giving into the desire from holding back any noises, he moans a string of curse words at the grind of your bare pussy on the base of his shaft.
Wooyoung exapnds his legs as far as they can go between the door and the compartment in the middle. As he lifts you off of him, he leaves you on the tip of his dick followed by him sinking back down for a series of bounces over him at the pace of the ‘I don't wanna go to Mexico’ hand game.
"It doesn’t even make sense at how tight you are princess. Did you know how often I have wished to be inside these walls? I wasn’t lying when I said I’d be dreaming about you when I left your dorm.”
His dick was struggling in your internal walls and twitching indefinitely. The new angle of him laid flat in the seat with his upper body on display was a sight for sore eyes. His brawn thighs pressing into your cushioned ass was a beautiful contrast that made you want to bounce faster.
In effect, a light smacking sound sent waves to the enclosed space in the car and back into both of your ears. Somehow everything feels 10x better at the confession of his wet dreams.
"Is that so? Well how about you stop dreaming, and fuck me dumb how you really want to Jung Wooyoung.”
At the honor of your request he stops his slow thrust, and digs his fingertips in your hips with a pressure that is bound to leave bruises.
"As you wish, princess. But just know, I won’t stop until you ask me to.”
In a instant, he picks up hurriedly on speed, and slams hard over and over into your guts with no regard.
He undertakes his arms under yours to grasp onto your shoulder pulls you close to mesh your lips together to swallow your moans as he shoves himself deeper inside of you at a faster pace of a game of ‘Patty Cake’.
Without warning, he pulls your ponytail with one of his hands with his fingers entangled into it. Your thankful for the lightly sharp sting of your silk press, rather than what you would’ve gotten with your natural hair.
Bouncing high in the air, His face is away from yours with his hands still on the back of your ponytail, He kisses down further to your chest leaving marks behind as he suck on your brown breast.
He opens his mouth and pulls a nipple between his teeth, and then sucks savagely before giving the same treatment to the other.
The combination of his dick ramming into faster by the second, the pulling of your hair, and the teasing of both of your nipples, it makes the words you scream out in pleasure untranslatable.
“Is this what you expected when you said to fuck you dumb? I couldnt understand a single word out of that pretty little mouth baby girl~.”
Leaving hickeys all over the skin of your boobs, he flicks his head up to pull you down for a brief harsh kiss while grabbing ahold of your ponytail tighter.
You never have been fucked so hard, fast, and deep that his and your thighs slap together and makes the sound in a hand game of ‘Down, down baby.’
At this crazy dumb pace, the wetness accumulating between both of your intimate parts made him fucking into you a whole lot easier. This experience was a unexplored feeling that had you on the brink of tears.
Both of your mouths just hangs wipe open the entire time as you duet a of song of curses words, and moans, and each others names.
"Shit woo~ I-im so close!
Your head lands in his neck he can hear the urgency in your voice, and the feeling of heavy hot air in your breath.
"I know babygirl, I feel it too! Cum with me babe~"
To finish things off he speeds up the rate of his pace, and it goes from ‘Patty Cake’ to ‘Down, down baby’, to now ‘Slide’ real quick, as his balls slap against your ass and he groans into your ear loudly.
In order to get you there with him he runs his hands down your body and brush the pads of his fingertips to stimulate your clit.
"Oh my- ahh~ I'm cumming Woo!"
At the entanglement of your bodies clashing you can feel your bodies orgasm together.
But suddenly, your body had other plans as you feel yourself slip off of him without self control. The next thing you know your thighs are shaking as you sit up in mid air.
"Oh fuck!"
Your eyes widen as you both watch yourself squirt upon his dick and onto his lap. The splash of it bouncing off his skin is such a mess, but he loved every second of it.
Without a doubt, Wooyoung takes advantage of the situation. With the cup of his hand he scoops up your juices and uses it as a lube and pumps near the tip as he releases thick lines of white on your stomach.
"Holy shit, I've never done that before! I’m so sorry!"
Frantically you look around to find something in the car to clean yourselves up.
Laughing softly, Wooyoung comes down from his high as grabs a pack of baby wipes from the middle compartment in between the seats, and wipes you both down.
"First time for everything princess. I’m just glad it was with me because that was so fucking sexy."
At his teasing you push his shoulders back playfully before setting back gently on his lap still sensitive from the stimulation.
"Don't get cocky now woo, you were doing so well~"
"Yeah yeah, I’m working on it baby~."
He kisses your forehead softly and wrap an arm around your waist pulling you closer to him. It surprised him to see how your attitude never changes even after having such an intense orgasm.
Dapping the wipe onto your face he notices your looking at him while in deep thought.
"You okay?”
It's so funny how he can bounce back from being an asshole to a gentlemen. But at this point you just accepted it as a charm of his.
You extend your arms up to remove the wet strands off his forehead to join the other ones naturally conjoined on the top of his head.
"Yes I'm okay...are you?"
He looks at you in confusion as if asking why wouldn’t he be given the pleasure he just shared with you.
"Oh baby i'm great." He digs back over to the middle counsel to grab another wipe to clean the beads of sweat on his bare forehead. "I just can't believe you squirted on me."
His uncalled for addition of his last words make you swat his chest and snatch the wipe in embarrassment dabbling at your own sweat.
"Can you shut up the hell up woo! I’m already embarrassed enough!”
Seeing through your fake anger he playfully shoves you back before pulling you close into chest. At the contact, he wraps his arms around your waist and resting his chin atop of your head.
"So, what are we?"
Startled, you freeze for a moment and then up at you keep position on his chest before bringing your eyes back down when you make eye contact.
"Well... I can be your #1 cheerleader girlfriend, and you can be my #1 basketball championship winner boyfriend."
You only say this suggestively with a hint of playfulness in case he happens to reject you.
"Deal!"
Looking back up again you see him smile cheekily and squeeze him tightly in a hug at his approval.
"But this time, you can't get rid of me, princess~."
At his childish taunt you caress his cheek and look at the bare beauty of your face, forever yours to see you hoped.
"I don’t ever plan on it, my number 1."
You suddenly remember the note in your back of your shorts pocket Wonyoung gave you if you weren’t really ‘interested’.
As soon as you get dressed and go back to your dorm, you’ll rip it into pieces, and throw it deep into the trash.
Wooyoung was yours now, and you were very interested in how your relationship will grow in the future, and so was he.
PLEASE DO NOT COPY MY ORIGINAL WORKS, reblogs are appreciated and accepted. Stealing and modifying my work or publishing out on other platforms is not. 🖌️
🏀🧡A/N: The story of this fiction was inspired by the 2000s movie Love & Basketball. If you grew up watching adult movies with your parents you would know that this is a his classic lol. I made this account as a safe space for black readers and unspecified female audiences but I decided to do something special for all my pretty melanin queens because we are part of the minority and don’t get a lot of representation.
Please let me know your thoughts in the comments below or in a private message! This allows me to appease to your needs as a reader!
You and your sweet, generous, yet serious sugar daddy, Choi Jongho, live in a large penthouse that was earned to you both by working in his successful billionaire company. Years ago, you had the role of the company’s president, aka his second in command working alongside the hardworking CEO. The relationship between you two was are strictly professional, in order to obtain the accomplishments you’ve rightfully earned throughout the years. Attending to his every need and maintaining the business, keeping up with schedule and his daily agendas for things like business meetings was part of your job. As CEO however, after he checks in with you and completes his daily tasks, he would read and sign off stacks of paper in regards to the company alone in his office. Your office being across from his, you can see the frustration and exhaustion draining the liveliness from his perfect skin. His dark brown hair is sticking in different directions drenched in sweat that sticks to his thick, long, pretty fingers from being ran through his soft stands, and how his black button up tightens around his muscles nearly bursting through the material.
No no no no no…
You shouldn’t be thinking like this, your boss is struggling while you’re over in lalaland right across from him. It isn’t fair for you to be thinking like this while he has to suffer, just how it isn’t fair how he hasn’t asked anything of you as you sit in your office. He’d made it clear he didn’t need you doing little tasks for him like bringing his Americanos to him while he’s working, he could do that just fine on his own. But as buisness grew stronger and he became the hugest number one selling company in Seoul, grabbing things like a quick cup of americano didn’t work in his schedule.
Being fed up with seeing him in such a horrible state, you head to the lounge making him a cup for him and yourself to cope with your stresses. Walking back up from the lounge to his office, you enter his office slowly being sure to knock so he’s aware of your presence. Surely you thought he would have acknowledged you, but he continued to read and sign off papers. “Sir, excuse me from crossing any boundaries but… I couldn’t help but to notice how overwhelmed you appear to be lately.” You hand him his americano and sit across from him.
He then acknowledges you and switches his sight from the americano to you, back to the americano, and then you again. This time he’s gazing longer at you than he had before. “S-sorry sir, I know you said-.” “Thank you”, he disrupts in a deep and very low tone. Must be from the tiredness, you think. Almost forgetting to register what he said in your mind, you regain your brain cells and say, “That’s why I’m here sir, to satisfy all your needs.” You think your mind is playing tricks on you when his face regains color again with a smile.
From then on, your relationship changed to how it is now. You were in the laundry room in your shared penthouse putting Jongho’s clothes in the dryer, finishing all your chores for the day. He had been working so hard lately, you wanted to cater to him. Also given the fact he made you quit working the day you gave him that Americano in his office, that was the day he decided he wanted to have you for himself. “Princess, where are you?!” He chuckles under his breath softly turning the corner of the large penthouse. “Right over here daddy!” You yell. Oh yes, right after Jongho basically forced you to quit your job and decided to make you his, he called himself a sugar daddy as a joke. But you loved the sound of it, especially his flustered reaction after it slipped past your lips every time.
Jonghos eyes meets your as he scans over your figure, trailing back up to your lips and back to your eyes again. “Oh thank goodness…I was getting worried about you.” He walks over to pick you up, cradling you against him. “My sweet little angel, where have you been?” Your stomach flutters with butterflies at the nickname and his sweet words, you cradle your head in his neck and mumble. “Sorry daddy I was finishing up a the laundry and doing chores. You’ve been so stressed lately, I wanted to take care of you.” You then began to feel his heart beat faster. He still can’t believe you, his beautiful wife, is his to have whenever he wanted. With no response from him, you look up from his neck and say, “Are you upset with me?” Regret evident in your tone. “No Princess, not at all, but it’s nice to know that you worry about me.” He smiles down at you. “ Of course, you do so much for me as my sugar daddy, I have to take care of you.” You laugh at the nickname, kissing his neck.
Jongho groans and leans into your kisses, you know it’s a weakness of his. He rubs your back as he says, “Your sugar daddy will always be there for you. Even if you don’t need help, just knowing that someone cares enough to give a damn about me means everything to me. You make me feel special and loved. Which is why I try to make sure you know that I appreciate you.” You smile and look up at him, “Thank you daddy, I feel the same way about you.” He kisses you passionately while caressing the underside of your jaw, “What would you like to eat today?” His voice his calm and gentle but still demanding. It’s clear he has complete control over his own life and wants to share that power with whoever he chooses. “Hmmmm, I was thinking I could make your favorite meal tonight for you and me. Like a little dinner date but at home you know.” You chuckle softly underneath your breath. “That sounds lovely, darling. But I think we should start with a dessert first, right?” He looked into your eyes and winks playfully. You blush and begin to feel wet in your crotch area at the intensity of his gaze. “Whatever you want, daddy.” You wink back.
“Okay how about some ice cream? Vanilla or chocolate?” His tone is playful and light hearted. His hands slides from your waist, one of them coming back up to grab one of your breasts tenderly. “How about both?” You say seductively moaning as he play with your nipples through your black skin tight dress. “Mmmm…good choice sweetheart.” His warmth leaves you, briefly grabbing the ice creams out the freezer and setting them down on the living room table. He chuckles and wanders back to you squeezing your other nipple through your dress. Hardening it between his thumb and index finger. His unoccupied hand slides down under your dress rubbing your clit gently through your panties. You moan, reaching to smooth your hands over his chest and then down his abs before rubbing over his dick hidden beneath his black trousers. He moans loudly as you rub over his length, squeezing it though his pants. “ Oh baby girl, you really are good at this aren’t you?” He breathes heavily. “Only the best for you daddy.” You rub on his dick faster and harder loving the sounds that emerges out of him and the reactions it reveals on his gorgeous face.
He groans grabbing her hips moving toward the couch. He sits down and lays back, his eyes looking up at her. “Then show me what you got love…show me all your skills…” He hits you with a final blow, “make me cum baby girl.” You take the challenge, moving down to rest on your knees in front of him. You rub his thighs up and down with the slightest bit of pressure, finally pulling him free of the restraints of his trousers. You suck his tip immediately. Swirling your tongue around it while maintaining eye contact. He shudders and leans back against the couch, enjoying every moment of it. He then lifts his head back up as she begins to suck his dick intently and caress her hair. “That’s it baby girl…just like that…mmm… so fucking good.” You moan over his dick, admiring his praise. You take his entire length in your mouth until it hits the back of your throat. You then take it out completely, very slowly, scooping vanilla and chocolate ice cream on his tip, watching it drip down on all sides of his dick, letting your warmth breath hover over his length. He lets out a loud whine, “Fuck baby, you don’t know much I needed this right now…you’re amazing~.”
Your smirk as the vanilla and chocolate ice cream mixture melts from your mouth. “That’s what I’m here for baby to satisfy all your needs.” His eyes roll back in pleasure and he holds your hair tightly, thrusting his cock deeper into your mouth. Moaning more intensely, you vibrate all the sound waves from your mouth all around his length eating the ice cream of his length. He groans loudly and pulls you off his dick, “Babygirl I need to fuck you so bad…But first let me eat your pussy.” You wipe your mouth before standing up and switching places, rising your dress to your hips and spreading your legs wide open. Jongho grins like an animal, and kneels between your legs, rubbing his hands up your thighs gently. You moan knowing what’s to come (literally). He’s barely touched you and your panties are wet from sucking his dick 30 seconds ago. He smirks mischievously, “Hmmm, you really like being dominated don’t you?” Noticing the wetness between your thighs. “Yes daddy but only with you.”
You moan as your panties grow impossibly wetter. He chuckles softly, “Good girl. Now, just lay back and let me show you how much I love dominating you.” You lean back swallowing the last bit of ice cream and pre cum in your mouth, waiting for him to devour your pussy. Jongho leans forward and grabs your thighs, spreading them wider apart, exposing your juicy pink pussy lips. You moan as he gets closer to where you need him. The cold air against you wet lips made you realize how wet you truly were.
He looks up at you lovingly, “Mmmm, such a good little slut you are…you like it when I touch your pretty little pussy?” You think about all the times he devoured your cunt and reply, “Y-yes daddy, I love it when your soft lips suction onto my clit, h-how you f-fingers dip deep inside my walls making me explode from inside, or how you wet tongue slithers easily inside my wet pussy,” you moan in between words reminiscing about previous times. He nods slowly, smiling as he notices you squirming around, trying to keep still for him. “That’s right baby girl…keep going.” You continue, “I-I love it when we use toys sometimes and you get frustrated that a toy is giving me pleasure rather than you-“ choked out you cough out something between a moan and a laugh. Jongho chuckles softly, leaning over and grabbing one of the vibrators off the living room side table, turning it on.
“Well now, since you’re already so turned on by this…why not put this toy to work? Lifting your head up in confusion you asks, W-wait, I thought you were gonna eat me out with your mouth daddy?” He smiles up at you again, “ Oh no I was gonna eat your pussy until you mentioned the vibrator, if you want me to use this instead, then I will. Just tell me what you wanna do, babygirl.” You can tell he’s teasing you at this point, he’s probably upset you compared him to a vibrator. “N-no daddy, I want your mouth. I-I’m sorry I was just joking. You plead, wet and ready for him to devour you immediately.
He chuckles deeply and moves his head down, placing his warm mouth over your swollen pussy lips, sucking them gently. You throw your head back in relief, noting to never joke again like that or he’ll probably reject you from any kind of pleasure. “Y-yes s-so good, thank you daddy.” He moans into your sweet pussy, enjoying how you tastes, “ Such a sweet little girl… and such an obedient little one too. I think you deserve something special tonight. What would you like?” You ponder for a minute before saying, “Y-your fingers daddy, put your fingers inside my pussy please-“ you moan out loudly, begging him repeatedly. He chuckles softly, moving two of his long thick fingers inside your tight dripping cunt, stretching it open as he rubs directly against your g spot.
You whine loudly as he stretches you, jerking your hips up in the air trying not to cum until he allows it, he rubs his fingers against the spot repetitively at a faster pace. His thumb begins to brush over your clit, making you jump. “So responsive, aernt you my angel?” Barely able to form words, you babble out like a baby, making up words as your brain turns foggy. He smirks knowing exactly what’s going on in your mind. “That’s right, don’t worry about speaking clearly anymore. You’ll be getting plenty of rest soon enough.” He continued rubbing your g spot with his two fingers, and rubbing your clit with his thumb, driving you absolutely nuts. “D-daddy I think I’m gonna cum soon-“ your orgasm approaches.
He looks at you hungrily. His eyes gleaming as he watched you get closer to climaxing. “Do it babygirl, cum all over these fingers for daddy!” Your thighs tremble even harder at his demands, finally cumming hard all over his fingers. Tears stream down your cheeks as you breath heavily, trying to come down from you high. He licks his lips greedily, smiling mischievously as he sees you coming down from your high. “ Good girl, now let’s clean up this mess together.” He pulls his fingers out your cunt and sucks them, cleaning the juices that came on his fingers. “Y-yes daddy- I begin to stand up, legs still shaking from my previous orgasm. As he stood up himself, towering over me he says, “Don’t move yet, darling. Let me clean you up.” He kneels down before you again and lifts your legs on his shoulders, exposing your pretty folds once again. Your still sensitive from your previous orgasm, and your breath shudders as he wipes your folds with a wet baby wipe.
“T-thank you daddy.” You say, still catching your breath. “Of course, angel. Now stay still.” He drives back down to lick in between your folds, savoring the remaining juices. You try to catch your breath overwhelmed with all the overstimulation, but you fail as he devour you so deliciously. “Mmmm… such an obedient little slut.” You smile at him and reply, “Only for you daddy.” Jongho smiles and sucks your inner thigh gently, leaving a small hickey. “You still okay to make dinner baby? I think you might need help considering you can’t stand for long.” He laughs softly under his breath, looking into your eyes. You grin wide as he marked you on your inner thigh, thinking about how you’ll be seeing that for a while, being reminded of this very moment. Yes daddy, I can still make dinner…and I do think I’m gonna need your help.” You and him laugh loudly in unison.
You and Jongho did end up cooking later that night with you falling a few times here and there. But he was always there to catch you before you fall. Just like you always caught him before he got exhausted with work. You still think of Jongho as your boss in a way, because you will always be there to satisfy his every need.
PLEASE DO NOT COPY MY ORIGINAL WORKS, reblogs are appreciated and accepted. Stealing and modifying my work or publishing out on other platforms is not. 🖌️
Thank you for reading!
Much love xoxo
Let Free, Your Wildest Dreams🍋 @1117feverlessdreams - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
