hello! i really love your sweetest salvation cult leader jeonghan dark fic, and because of that… can i please maybe request a plot like obsession (2026) with jeonghan..? up to you how you’d do it! just a plot even just slightly like the movie hihihi
Hi!
I haven't had the chance to watch Obsession yet but judging from the clips I saw and the things I heard, it definitely gives off cult jh vibes. Thanks for the idea, anon! I'll try to write something after I've watched the film.
I started working on a Wonwoo fic inspired from Perfect Crown but mid way, I've hit a real bad writers block. Life in general has been really shitty for a while now so I'm thinking if I should take an official break from writing (I could never lowkey, watch me crawl back here in a week).
I think I'll post a teaser of the fic sometime soon to generate some hype and hold myself accountable, lol.
synopsis ➠ you have a crush on your boss and he knows it. he just does not care. until, he starts behaving awfully lot like someone who cares—or maybe you are reading too much into it.
genre ➠ office romance, unrequited love, smut.
word count ➠ 5.7k
warnings ➠ pining, low-key asshole cheol, flirty jeonghan who's lowkey a cupid, unequal power dynamics ig, jealousy, cursing, reader does smth pretty embarrassing, lowkey unrequited love, unprotected sex, office sex, tiny bit of sir kink, female oral, hickeys, multiple orgasms, a lot of kissing, creampie, HR would go crazy if they knew what these two were doing in the office.
“Can I leave early today?” You stand in front of your boss’s desk, sweaty hands clasped in front of you, heartbeat thudding in your ears. Seungcheol has been in a bad mood for a few days now — with the factory relocation and all, which has made his usual grumpy self even grumpier.
“Why?” He drops the file you just brought in with a thud on his desk. Leaning back on his chair, he stares at you with a pointed gaze, like a prison officer looking at an inmate.
“Uhm…I actually have a date…” You murmur. Still impassive, he keeps boring holes into your face with his eyes as you grow uncomfortable.
“Date, huh?”
“Yes.”
He rubs his index finger thoughtfully over his chin before saying, “Go ahead. Take the afternoon off.”
Whew. “Thank you, sir.”
“I hope you won’t go on your date dressed like that.”
What?
You pause, thinking you misheard, and blink at him, who is now looking at his computer screen like he did not just make that snide remark. You look down at your clothes — baby blue silk blouse and a cream skirt — this is not a bad outfit. Not that you were going to go on your date like this anyway. You asked to leave early so that you could go home and freshen up.
Biting your cheek, you hold back any retort. Instead, you decide to overlook his petulance and offer him a smile as you step back. “I will see you on Monday, sir.”
He does not respond and you march out of his office.
—
The man in front of you — Eric — is underwhelming. You already forgot his last name.
he is definitely not worth you going home early to take a full body shower, shave and put on makeup and a nice dress. One hour into the date at the Italian restaurant, he keeps on talking about some start-up he and his buddies are working on, not bothering to ask you a single question.
As you play with the cherry tomatoes on your plate, occasionally nodding as a pretence of listening, your mind starts to wander. And like most times, they drift to the thought of Choi Seungcheol, your boss.
You have had a crush on him for a few years now. The story is an embarrassing one but you have come to own it over time. Five years ago, when you first joined this company as a junior sales executive, he was the COO. He made a good name for himself and the previous chairman loved him, so it was almost an open secret that he would be the next one to take over. He was the definition of tall, dark, and handsome, with a side of sharp intellect and unapologetic bluntness, gaining everyone's admiration if not support.
As expected, once the ex chairman resigned two years later, Seungcheol became the CEO. Right away, he needed a secretary and he wanted someone within the company who already knew the ropes. Among the five applicants, you got the job, and right there, your future was decided — working in close quarters with Choi Seungcheol, the handsome, brooding man whom you looked up to immensely. And somewhere between you switching roles and becoming his right hand person, you fell for him. Hard.
And it was supposed to be a secret. A harmless little crush. Until that one mistake drunk you made.
You had sent your coworker Minji — who is also one of your best friends since college — a text one night after a team dinner, fangirling about your boss in the most brazen way. The next morning, you woke up to see that you, in fact, did not send the text to Minji but the group chat you were in with all the sales team members. Words spread like wildfire, and on Monday, when you showed up at work (while contemplating on what excuse to make up and quit this job and leave this city; possibly the country) word had already reached Seungcheol. Once in his office, he asked you only two questions. Was it true? You nodded yes. Were your feelings going to affect your work? You vehemently shook your head no. As unbothered as ever, he signed some files, handed them back to you and said that all was good and he would overlook this fumble.
And so, since then, everyone in the office knows you have heart eyes for your boss. And over time, you have gotten good at acting casual about it. Except, you know, there is nothing casual about it. It has become a disease, the way you yearn for that man, and it was high time you decided to get out of that cycle of torment.
Which is why you are on this date.
And it isn’t really going well.
Eric is still, somehow, talking about his start-up. With a tight-lipped smile, you interrupt him as your patience stretches thin, “Shall we order dessert?”
—
It is drizzling now.
Outside the restaurant, you stand and wait for your Uber, which seems to be malfunctioning. For the past ten minutes, it has been looking for a driver, but to no avail.
Eric left a while ago, parting with decency once you said you were not sure this would go anywhere. He agreed, saying he was too focused on his business right now anyway. So, that was that.
As you stand and watch the rain, contemplating your life so far, a familiar voice calls your name. “Secretary ___?” You turn around to see Yoon Jeonghan, one of Seungcheol’s closest friends and a big name in the business world. You have worked with him a lot on various projects over the past few years and he has almost become your friend as much as he is Seungcheol’s — especially due to his easygoing behavior and charming humour. He is the exact opposite of Seunghceol in terms of personality and attitude, and you sometimes wonder how they are such good friends.
“Good evening, Mr. Yoon.” You smile.
“See, I thought I saw you earlier when I came in.” He says, stepping out of the restaurant and standing next to you. “Were you not here with someone else?”
You nod.
“Date?”
Another nod with an awkward smile.
“Let me guess, it did not go well.”
“Not really.”
He chuckles. “Well, it is good to see you trying.” He sends a playful look your way. “As I have always been saying, you are too good for Seungcheol. I can get past you being his secretary, but his girlfriend? Nah, that guy isn’t worthy of you.”
Yeah, even Jeonghan knows about your crush on his friend. Probably everyone in this field does.
“I am sure Seungcheol would not like hearing you badmouth him.” You tease.
Jeonghan sends a dramatic look of offence your way. “Badmouth? I am stating the facts, ___. And he would agree with me.”
A black Mercedes pulls up in front of you, the driver stepping out to hold the back door open and Jeonghan extends a hand, gesturing you to get in.
“What? Oh no, I couldn’t possibly trouble you.” You refuse politely.
“No trouble, ___. Get in. You are not going to find a ride anytime soon.”
You bite your lip, hesitating for a second. “Thank you, Mr. Yoon.”
“When are you going to stop calling me that? I told you, Jeonghan is fine.”
Maybe it is the wine in your blood that enables you to say, “Alright, thank you for the ride, Jeonghan.”
He smiles, closing the door behind you.
—
“How was the date?” Seungcheol asks without sparing a look at you as you set down his morning coffee on his desk while he flips through the pages of a report.
You pause. “It was…okay.”
His eyes stray from the documents briefly, taking a quick look at your face before returning to the report. “Seems it was unworthy of the afternoon you took off.”
You look around his office helplessly, uncomfortable at his sudden questioning. It seems like he is picking on you on purpose. You decide it will be better to divert the conversation, “I met Jeonghan at the restaurant.” You cringe at how you accidentally refer to his friend by his first name.
Your words finally make your boss drop his work and regard you with full attention. “Jeonghan?”
“Erm, Mr. Yoon, I mean.” You avoid his eyes. “He was kind enough to offer me a ride home, since it was raining and all.” You need to stop blabbering. Seungcheol stares at you silently for too long a moment, his intense eyes focused on you as if he is decoding something.
“I see.” He murmurs after a while.
A beat of silence.
“Well then, I will prepare for the meeting.” You awkwardly bow while stepping back, eager to rid yourself of the growing tension in the air. With his usual expressionless face, Seungcheol’s eyes follow you until you are out the door.
—
The meeting today is, in fact, with Jeonghan. This weekend, his gallery is holding an art exhibition, sponsored by Seungcheol’s company, with him as the keynote speaker. Today’s meeting is to cross-check if everything is in place and for last-minute adjustments.
“Where is my dear friend?” Jeonghan asks as he takes a seat in the meeting room. You take a seat on the opposite side of the table while a junior employee distributes the printouts across the table.
“He will be here soon, Mr. Yoon. He told me to go ahead and start the meeting.” You smile. Jeonghan drums his fingers on the desk. “I thought we agreed you’d call me Jeonghan.”
You pause, looking around, briefly meeting the eyes of Jeonghan’s secretary as well as the employee arranging the desk. “At work it may not be the most appropriate.” You explain.
He sighs dramatically. “You know, sometimes, I feel like you are becoming quite like Seungcheol.”
You look at him, wide eyed. “My god, what do you mean?”
He throws his head back and laughs, “The idea is distressing, no?”
“Your face is distressing.” A voice says quietly but unamusedly and you turn back to see Seungcheol stepping into the meeting room, with his usual air of boredom. Taking the seat next to you, he murmurs, “Why don’t you stop flirting with my secretary and optimize the work hours?”
“Someone is extra grumpy today.” Jeonghan teases with a knowing grin. Ignoring him, Seungcheol says to the junior employee, “Mina, can you pull up the slides?”
The rest of the meeting is productive as the four of you finalize all the details and map out the entire event. As the discussion rolls to an end, and your boss is getting up from his seat, Jeonghan says, “___, I would like to have you as a translator for the exhibition day.”
Surprised, you blink at him. Next to you, Seungcheol, who just got up from his chair, stills. Jeonghan continues, “You know, there will be a lot of French guests and I would love it if you were my translator. I’ll pay you for your time, of course.”
“Just hire a translator,” Seungcheol says dryly.
“Oh come on,” Jeonghan rolls his eyes. “Don’t be such a baby. ___ has helped us out with translations before. I need someone I am familiar with and someone who is smart and charming.” He turns to you. “You have no problem with it, right?”
“Uh,” you glance at your boss, who is staring at his friend with narrowed eyes. “No, I don’t mind.” You are supposed to be there anyway, as a representative on Sungcheol’s end. So getting paid separately to be there does not hurt. Besides, you have always loved meeting new people.
“It is settled then,” Jeonghan smiles, clasping his hands. “I promise to return her to you, Cheollie. Stop glaring at me like that.”
“Whatever,” your boss murmurs and marches out of the room, shutting the door behind him with a loud thud. You cringe, before looking at Jeonghan, “I’m sorry. I have no idea why he has been behaving weirdly for the past few days.”
A mysterious smile kisses his lips, “I think I know why.”
“Huh?”
“Never mind.” He turns to his secretary, “Could you please email the contacts of the French guests to ___.”
—
The exhibition starts at 2 pm, but you arrive at Jeonghan’s gallery by 1 pm. Jeonghan’s secretary, Chan, gives you the tour, showing you around the space and the paintings being exhibited while his boss finishes a meeting. Just before the exhibition is about to start, Jeonghan finds you.
“Hey, ___. Sorry, my meeting took longer than expected.”
You smile. “No trouble. Chan was a very helpful guide.”
“That’s good to hear.” He replies before glancing down the length of your body. “You look stunning, by the way.”
Flattered, you glance down at the length of your baby pink dress before giving him a smile. “Thank you. You look great as well.”
He fixes the lapels of his maroon suit with a dramatic gesture. “Thanks, this is a custom piece from Italy. By the way, when is your boss going to grace us with his presence? He does know that he has to be here by 4 for his speech, right?”
“He said he would be here in time.” You give Jeonghan a tight smile. “He had a few meetings in the morning.”
“And let me guess, he is brooding.”
“Yeah, the warehouse shift has been a challenge.”
“Mhm, I think that’s not all.”
“What?” You blink. Before he can reply, Chan calls his name. With a reassuring smile and a soft squeeze on your shoulder, Jeonghan takes his leave.
Thus starts the event. You greet the guests and show them around the gallery, chatting and socializing all the way through while keeping an eye out to make sure everything is going as planned. Despite your worries, Seungcheol shows up on time — 15 minutes before his speech. After the viewing, the crowd moves to the auditorium for the panel discussion, where Seungcheol delivers his speech, along with a few other guests. You have some food, observe the scene, and help the staff with anything they need before finally, the exhibition officially rolls to an end.
To your surprise, Seungcheol stayed the entire time. You had expected him to march out the moment he was done with his formalities but he stayed the entire length of the artist’s discussion panel, hovering around, never quite coming to you or addressing you, puzzling you.
Why was he acting like a stranger?
Just as you are contemplating his behavior with a glass of champagne in your hand, Jeonghan appears. “Thank you so much for your help today, ___. You were amazing.”
You grin. “You are too kind. And it was my pleasure. This is a really good exhibition.”
“Thank you, I am glad you enjoyed it.” He winks playfully. A cameraman walks past you and Jeonghan flags him, asking for a photo of the two of you. You pose next to him, flashing a big smile for the camera. Just as you are recovering from the blinding flash, you see Seungcheol heading towards you.
He is dressed in a dark grey three-piece suit today and all afternoon, you have tried your best not to let yourself drool over him. It does not work right now, as with the jacket off, you can see the muscles of his bicep bulge underneath the white shirt and momentarily, your mind blanks.
“Ugh, there comes Mister Sourpants.” Jeonghan murmurs. Seungcheol comes to a halt in front of you, his eyes briefly meeting yours before he looks at his friend. “Great work on not botching the show.” He says unimpressively. Jeonghan laughs, slinging an arm over his shoulder, “You underestimate me, my friend. But thanks for showing up and not badmouthing me on stage. I’m surprised you’re still here.”
“I was looking at the pictures.” Your boss responds indifferently.
“Well, since you are all still here, let's go grab dinner together.” Jeoghan offers.
“No thanks, I am going back to the office.” Seungcheol removes his friend’s arm from his shoulder. When Jeonghan looks at you expectantly, you say, “I would love to, but not today. I have to go to the office too, as I left my charger. My battery is about to die. I have some work to finish up as well.”
Jeonghan rolls his eyes, “Ever the workaholics. Come on, people, work hours are over!”
“Let’s have dinner on Friday night, perhaps?” You look at Seungcheol for confirmation but he seems busy with his phone, dialling his driver’s number. As he presses the phone against his ear, you notice something and your hands instinctively reach out to fix his crooked tie, before smoothening the hem of his vest. You have done it multiple times before — for meetings and press conferences — as Seungcheol’s tie always seems to rest in a crooked manner.
As you finish fixing it and he hangs up the call, your eyes lock with his and a shiver runs down your spine. In a split second, the air seems to be full of tension, thick enough to cut through with a knife and hot enough to ignite a fire in your belly.
Fuck. You look away and retract your hands, trying to act as normal as possible. “Your tie was crooked.” You murmur.
“Thanks.” Seungcheol’s voice is quiet.
Jeonghan looks at the two of you with a growing smile of mischief. “Well,” he looks pointedly between the two of you, clasping his hands, “I will let you kids get back to work for today. Thanks again for your help, ___.”
“My pleasure.” You smile, suddenly embarrassed to meet his eyes. With a harsh pat on the back and a suggestive wiggle of his brows, Jenghan says goodbye to Seungcheol, grinning like a Cheshire cat. With his friend gone, Seungcheol wastes no time, marching towards the exit, “Let us get going.”
—
It is suffocating inside the car.
Even with the AC on full blast, it feels like a thousand degrees in here with zero ventilation. The earlier tense moment between the two of you seems to linger, now even more amplified than before in this enclosed space.
You shift uncomfortably in your seat, trying to think of something to talk about but coming up with nothing. You don’t trust yourself to speak right now, so you try your very best to look out the window and pretend there is no one sitting next to you. After a while, when doing that gets tough, you pull out your iPad and start sorting through your work.
Just then, Seungcheol speaks. “You seem to have gotten really close with Jeonghan.”
Oh boy. There seems to be an edge to his voice and you are unsure how to reply or what to reply. An awkward laugh floats past your lips. “I mean, he is easy to get along with, you know.”
“Mhmm.” Even the Sahara is not as dry as his tone.
You glance at him, waiting to hear something else. For a brief second, you let yourself be distracted by his gorgeous face — the couple of stray strands of hair on his forehead calling your name, making your hand itch to put them back in place.
Though if it were up to you, you would mess up his hair. And his clothes. And his back—
“From now on, don’t help him out.” He turns to look at you. “He might be my friend but business is still business and you are my employee.”
“Uh, okay.” You whisper. Your boss looks back out the window, and you interpret that as the conversation being over. You return to your work, but for some reason, the numbers and the letters on screen make no sense to you.
A moment later, you whisper, “Did I do something to upset you?”
Seungcheol turns his head slowly to regard you with a quizzical look. A sudden rush of emotions swirls within you, and for a scary moment, you think you might cry. With a deep, calming breath, you meet his eyes and try to flash your usual professional smile. “If you are displeased with my work or anything I have done, I hope you will let me know.”
Seungcheol is mute and slightly wide-eyed, almost like he is scared of you. The silence stretches on like chewing gum, and he looks like he is about to say something, but the car halts, and you waste no time getting out.
A quiet and suffocating elevator ride later, you step into your floor, with Seungcheol leading the way. The office is now empty and quiet, save for your footsteps, which halt in front of your desk as you set your things down. Seungcheol continues his way towards his personal office, but stops at his door. Turning his head back, he says, “Can you come into my office for a second?” His voice is not commanding, and he almost sounds unsure.
Confused, you stare at him for a second as he stands at his door, eyes fixed on you expectantly. Quickly plugging your phone in, you walk towards the double doors, stepping through the one he was holding open.
The second you are inside, Seungcheol locks the door shut behind you. You only get a second to process that you are pressed against the door with Seungcheol’s body dangerously close to yours and keeping you trapped, before a hand cups your jaw and tilts your head up.
“I can’t pretend anymore.” He whispers so low, you almost miss it.
“What?” You croak, your heart galloping like a racehorse, your knees are suddenly weak. What the fuck is going on? Are you dreaming?
His eyes meet yours before he utters very quietly, “I can’t pretend that I don’t care for you. I care much, much more than a boss should care for his secretary.”
“I…I don’t…” You mumble, heart racing in your ribcage, brain functioning on overdrive to make sense of what is happening.
“I am going to kiss you now, ___.” He warns. Then, Seungcheol is kissing you.
Warm, soft and delightful, you forget to breathe for a long second, your heart swooning, ready to burst. Almost unconsciously, you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him close, molding your body with his. His large arms wrap around your back and your waist, pressing you flush against him, and you swear it is the best feeling in the world.
When you part, Seungcheol looks at you with glistening eyes, warm like a summer afternoon and for a second, you get lost in them. The kiss lingers on your lips, making you bite your lower lip. Like yours, your boss’s lips too, are swollen and just as he leans his face towards you again, you stop him, pressing your hands flat on his chest.
“Wait. Stop.” You say, voice too loud amongst the stillness.
Seungcheol pauses, eyes flashing with worry.
“Are you drunk, Mr. Choi?”
“What?”
“This cannot happen if you are drunk.” You take a deep, shuddering breath. “I… I cannot be your plaything. You know very well that I like you — I have been for a while and I’m trying to make sense of why you are suddenly doing this. I…I cannot—” you are suddenly choked with emotion, your gaze falling on the floor.
“___.” He says your name with a tenderness unlike ever before. “Look at me.”
You cannot bring yourself to, fighting to keep the tears at bay. With a finger below your chin, he tilts your face up to meet his eyes. “I am not playing with you. I am doing what I should have done long ago.”
“What?”
“I like you, ___. A lot. And I have liked you for a while. I just did not realize it,” He sighs, taking a step back and running a hand through his hair. “Well, I actually did…I think. I just did not want to give in to it, I suppose, with the dynamic we have and all.” His pauses, looking back at you. “I know this is pathetic, especially with the way I have been behaving for the past few weeks, but I cannot pretend anymore. I hate seeing you go on those dates. I hate seeing you be friendly with Jeonghan. I want to do those things with you. I want to be with you.”
Breathless, you gape at him, still struggling to believe that all of this is real.
Holy shit. Holy fucking shit.
“I took you for granted.” He continues. “I got so used to your presence around me that I thought I would have you forever, forgetting that you could eventually move and find someone else, not only getting over me but leaving this job altogether.”
“So what, this is a ploy to keep me working here forever?” An awkward laugh comes from your mouth. Seungcheol keeps looking at you with a somber expression, a quiet storm brewing in his eyes.
“I mean it, ___. I want you. I want you to be mine, and I want to be yours.” He says quietly.
Wow. You must have died and gone to heaven.
Realizing that there is not much left to say, you inhale a steady breath, remove the gap between the two of you with a few quick steps, wrap your arms around his neck and pull him in for a kiss. Seungcheol wastes no time, wrapping his arms around you, meeting your lips with an equal fervor and the passion of a starving man. Lips connected, bodies in embrace, he guides you through the office, stopping in front of his desk and pushing you against it.
Catching his breath, he swiftly takes off his jacket and your fingers reach out to undo the buttons of his vest, shaking with hazy desire. He helps in taking off your dress, undoing the ribbon on the back and pulling down the zipper before tugging it down with one strong move. Left only in your bra and panties — which do not match by the way — you cringe in embarrassment while trying to combat the sheer amount of desire flowing through your veins. Seungcheol, unbothered, gets down on his knees, face to face with your pussy.
“Oh my god, what are you doing?” You squeak. The response is him taking off your panties with a tug so harsh that the lace on the edges rips.
“Seungcheol!”
“That’s right. That’s how you call me from now on. And that is the only word I want to hear from you now.” He commands with a burning fire in his eyes as he grabs your thighs, putting them over his shoulder and then gets to work.
Shit.
His tongue laps at your core and the first touch has you falling back on his desk, pushing down the stack of files and stationery on the floor. His tongue works at your core mercilessly, switching between playing with your folds and sucking your clit while you writhe in his grasp that is iron clad. With each flick of his tongue, your moans rise, and then he inserts one finger, which very quickly turns into two, and you think might die from the pleasure.
"Fuck!" You cry, body twisting and turning on his desk, desperate to get away from his touch but wanting it simultaneously. It is maddening —whatever that is happening, and you feel your high building, too quick, too strong.
"I cannot...Seungcheol...I think— I think—"
His response is muffled and you can only hope its a positive one as you feel the tremors run through your body, sitting right at the edge of an orgasm. His tongue moves like he has known your body for years, and with one strong flick on your clit, you go off, falling head first into an abyss of pleasure, all your nerves on fire.
As you lie flat on his desk, body still trembling from the orgasm, Seungcheol smothers kisses on your belly, slowly going up towards your chest and then your neck, biting and sucking your skin however he likes. You have bearely had a couple of minutes to recover, but heat starts pooling in your belly all over again, your hands coming up to wrap themselves around him, soft sighs parting from your lips as he kisses your jawbone, soft and sweet.
“You are so beautiful,” he whispers in your ears. With a thousand butterflies fluttering in your stomach, you turn your head to capture his lips in a kiss.
Then, he stands up, discards all the remaining clothes from his body and makes himself comfortable between your legs. You prop yourself on your elbows, taking a good look at his chiseled body and his flushed cock, which stands tall and angry, pointing at you.
“It’s rude to stare, you know.” Your boss hums, stroking his length, before hooking an arm underneath your thigh and yanking you closer to the edge of the table, your pussy a mere inch or so away from his cock.
“I am so sorry, sir,” you smile suggestively and Seunghcheol exhales a rough breath.
“You better keep screaming that when I pound this pussy.” His eyes shine with determination. You bite your lip, giving him a cheeky smile and watch as he inches his cock near your pussy. You take in a deep breath as he pushes his cock inside you, tantalizingly slowly, making sure you feel every inch and your nerves are on fire. With a moan, you fall back on the table, eyes falling shut with the way he fills you up over and over again.
“Fuck,” Seungcheol hisses, his voice throaty as he goes all the way in, and you swear you feel him in your stomach. With a loud cry, you cling onto his body, nails digging into his back and your toes curling at each thrust. He builds a pace, pushing in and out of you in steady movements. Your brain feels like mush as you fail to utter anything, your mouth simply hanging open to let out breathy pants as you close your eyes and feel every ridge of his cock move in and out of you.
“Fuck, you feel so good,” he mutters underneath his breath, eyes set on you so intensely, you feel a shiver run down your back. “Seungcheol…” his name parts from your lips like a prayer. Another mutter of curse from him before he stops his movements and yanks your ass upwards. The new angle makes his length curve inside you and you start seeing stars.
“Oh my god,” you hiss, eyes squeezed shut. The back of your thighs rests over Seungcheol’s, your legs wrapped around his waist, and your hands clutching his arms as he starts to pick up pace. With each thrust, the force increases, the tip of his cock hitting your most sensitive spot, low groans falling from his lips to match your breathy moans.
“Shit...I want to cum...please,” your whisper mindlessly, the words scattered between whines of pleasure. “You want to come?” He taunts, leaning closer to look at your face. “Beg me. Say sir, please let me cum.”
Oh god.
The need to find your release only intensifies at his words. You are so close you can almost taste the blissful release, and as you utter the next words, you wonder what other hidden kinks you have. “Sir, please let me come.” You beg, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him closer to you. The man squeezes his eyes shut and lets out a low groan, his pace increasing.
“Fuck, you’re going to be the death of me,’’ he hisses in your ears, his warm breath tickling your skin.
“Please, sir.” You whisper, doe-eyed and drunk on his cock. “Oh baby,” he murmurs, before leaning in to seize your lips in a bruising kiss. With one hand, he keeps a firm hold on your jaw while the other reaches below to touch your clit as he wastes no time rubbing the sensitive bundle of nerves with the pads of his finger, all the while continuing to thrust inside you earnestly.
“Seungcheol!” With a loud cry you part your lips from his, your entire body jolting at his touch.
Your reaction makes him smirk as he chases his own high, not far away from finishing inside you. Standing up, he slows he pace ever so slightly, making sure to put all his body weight in each thrust as he places your clit between his thumb and index finger, giving you a particularly harsh rub followed by a pinch.
You are catapulted over the edge. Your vision goes white, your entire sweat-coated body twitching on his desk from the intensity of the orgasm. It only amplifies as you feel Seungcheol spill inside you, his warm release filling you up while float as high as the clouds, pure bliss overtaking your senses.
Once you have caught your breath and managed to gather your senses, you realize you lie on top of Seungcheol on the office floor, your bodies pressed together, riddled with exhaustion and sweat. For a moment, you say nothing, just feeling Seungcheol’s chest go up and down with every breath he takes.
“I can’t believe we just did that. In the office.” You whisper, almost like someone would hear you. Seungcheol shifts underneath you, helping you rest your head on his arm. “Me too but about time I acted on my desires.”
Shy but intrigued, you look at him, “Have you been wanting to do this for a while?”
“Fuck you on my desk?” He asks bluntly, making your face heat up. “God yes. You have no idea how long I have wanted to do that.”
A small burst of laughter parts from your lips, delighted at his confession. Snuggling closer to him, you start tracing your index finger aimlessly over his chest. “We are going to be a nightmare for HR.”
“Fuck them. I am the CEO.”
His response makes you smile. “You are serious about this, aren’t you?” Seungcheol’s hand reaches out to cup your cheek, tilting your face upwards to look at him. “If you still have any doubts in your heart, you need to let them go because I am dead serious. You are mine.”
His words reignite the fire in your belly. And the way your lipstick marks are branded all over his face does not quite help either. Still, you decide on teasing him with a pout, “Was that supposed to be a confession? At least buy me some flow—”
You are cut off with another ruthless kiss. His tongue passionately makes its way into your mouth, meeting yours that is equally wanton. You claw at his chest, a soft moan escaping your lips as you feel him growing hard again.
“Fuck,” he almost yanks himself free from your lips. “Let me get you home before we start round two here.” Your delighted laughter rings in the air as the two of you get dressed.
Next morning, when you wake up in Seungcheol’s bed, a bouquet of a hundred roses sits at the foot of the bed, with a note saying:
Can I be your boyfriend?
For a bonus epilogue, click here! This work will also be cross-posted on my AO3.
a/n: this was supposed to be out like a month ago but life got in the way, I suppose. been feeling quite shitty these days hence I haven't been writing much but I have started on this wonwoo fic that is inspired by Perfect Crown (the prime minister's character basically) so let's see where we can go with that. thank you for reading till the end and as always, your reblog, comments and feedback are very very appreciated!
synopsis ➠ you have a crush on your boss and he knows it. he just does not care. until, he starts behaving awfully lot like someone who cares—or maybe you are reading too much into it.
genre ➠ office romance, unrequited love, smut.
word count ➠ 5.7k
warnings ➠ pining, low-key asshole cheol, flirty jeonghan who's lowkey a cupid, unequal power dynamics ig, jealousy, cursing, reader does smth pretty embarrassing, lowkey unrequited love, unprotected sex, office sex, tiny bit of sir kink, female oral, hickeys, multiple orgasms, a lot of kissing, creampie, HR would go crazy if they knew what these two were doing in the office.
“Can I leave early today?” You stand in front of your boss’s desk, sweaty hands clasped in front of you, heartbeat thudding in your ears. Seungcheol has been in a bad mood for a few days now — with the factory relocation and all, which has made his usual grumpy self even grumpier.
“Why?” He drops the file you just brought in with a thud on his desk. Leaning back on his chair, he stares at you with a pointed gaze, like a prison officer looking at an inmate.
“Uhm…I actually have a date…” You murmur. Still impassive, he keeps boring holes into your face with his eyes as you grow uncomfortable.
“Date, huh?”
“Yes.”
He rubs his index finger thoughtfully over his chin before saying, “Go ahead. Take the afternoon off.”
Whew. “Thank you, sir.”
“I hope you won’t go on your date dressed like that.”
What?
You pause, thinking you misheard, and blink at him, who is now looking at his computer screen like he did not just make that snide remark. You look down at your clothes — baby blue silk blouse and a cream skirt — this is not a bad outfit. Not that you were going to go on your date like this anyway. You asked to leave early so that you could go home and freshen up.
Biting your cheek, you hold back any retort. Instead, you decide to overlook his petulance and offer him a smile as you step back. “I will see you on Monday, sir.”
He does not respond and you march out of his office.
—
The man in front of you — Eric — is underwhelming. You already forgot his last name.
he is definitely not worth you going home early to take a full body shower, shave and put on makeup and a nice dress. One hour into the date at the Italian restaurant, he keeps on talking about some start-up he and his buddies are working on, not bothering to ask you a single question.
As you play with the cherry tomatoes on your plate, occasionally nodding as a pretence of listening, your mind starts to wander. And like most times, they drift to the thought of Choi Seungcheol, your boss.
You have had a crush on him for a few years now. The story is an embarrassing one but you have come to own it over time. Five years ago, when you first joined this company as a junior sales executive, he was the COO. He made a good name for himself and the previous chairman loved him, so it was almost an open secret that he would be the next one to take over. He was the definition of tall, dark, and handsome, with a side of sharp intellect and unapologetic bluntness, gaining everyone's admiration if not support.
As expected, once the ex chairman resigned two years later, Seungcheol became the CEO. Right away, he needed a secretary and he wanted someone within the company who already knew the ropes. Among the five applicants, you got the job, and right there, your future was decided — working in close quarters with Choi Seungcheol, the handsome, brooding man whom you looked up to immensely. And somewhere between you switching roles and becoming his right hand person, you fell for him. Hard.
And it was supposed to be a secret. A harmless little crush. Until that one mistake drunk you made.
You had sent your coworker Minji — who is also one of your best friends since college — a text one night after a team dinner, fangirling about your boss in the most brazen way. The next morning, you woke up to see that you, in fact, did not send the text to Minji but the group chat you were in with all the sales team members. Words spread like wildfire, and on Monday, when you showed up at work (while contemplating on what excuse to make up and quit this job and leave this city; possibly the country) word had already reached Seungcheol. Once in his office, he asked you only two questions. Was it true? You nodded yes. Were your feelings going to affect your work? You vehemently shook your head no. As unbothered as ever, he signed some files, handed them back to you and said that all was good and he would overlook this fumble.
And so, since then, everyone in the office knows you have heart eyes for your boss. And over time, you have gotten good at acting casual about it. Except, you know, there is nothing casual about it. It has become a disease, the way you yearn for that man, and it was high time you decided to get out of that cycle of torment.
Which is why you are on this date.
And it isn’t really going well.
Eric is still, somehow, talking about his start-up. With a tight-lipped smile, you interrupt him as your patience stretches thin, “Shall we order dessert?”
—
It is drizzling now.
Outside the restaurant, you stand and wait for your Uber, which seems to be malfunctioning. For the past ten minutes, it has been looking for a driver, but to no avail.
Eric left a while ago, parting with decency once you said you were not sure this would go anywhere. He agreed, saying he was too focused on his business right now anyway. So, that was that.
As you stand and watch the rain, contemplating your life so far, a familiar voice calls your name. “Secretary ___?” You turn around to see Yoon Jeonghan, one of Seungcheol’s closest friends and a big name in the business world. You have worked with him a lot on various projects over the past few years and he has almost become your friend as much as he is Seungcheol’s — especially due to his easygoing behavior and charming humour. He is the exact opposite of Seunghceol in terms of personality and attitude, and you sometimes wonder how they are such good friends.
“Good evening, Mr. Yoon.” You smile.
“See, I thought I saw you earlier when I came in.” He says, stepping out of the restaurant and standing next to you. “Were you not here with someone else?”
You nod.
“Date?”
Another nod with an awkward smile.
“Let me guess, it did not go well.”
“Not really.”
He chuckles. “Well, it is good to see you trying.” He sends a playful look your way. “As I have always been saying, you are too good for Seungcheol. I can get past you being his secretary, but his girlfriend? Nah, that guy isn’t worthy of you.”
Yeah, even Jeonghan knows about your crush on his friend. Probably everyone in this field does.
“I am sure Seungcheol would not like hearing you badmouth him.” You tease.
Jeonghan sends a dramatic look of offence your way. “Badmouth? I am stating the facts, ___. And he would agree with me.”
A black Mercedes pulls up in front of you, the driver stepping out to hold the back door open and Jeonghan extends a hand, gesturing you to get in.
“What? Oh no, I couldn’t possibly trouble you.” You refuse politely.
“No trouble, ___. Get in. You are not going to find a ride anytime soon.”
You bite your lip, hesitating for a second. “Thank you, Mr. Yoon.”
“When are you going to stop calling me that? I told you, Jeonghan is fine.”
Maybe it is the wine in your blood that enables you to say, “Alright, thank you for the ride, Jeonghan.”
He smiles, closing the door behind you.
—
“How was the date?” Seungcheol asks without sparing a look at you as you set down his morning coffee on his desk while he flips through the pages of a report.
You pause. “It was…okay.”
His eyes stray from the documents briefly, taking a quick look at your face before returning to the report. “Seems it was unworthy of the afternoon you took off.”
You look around his office helplessly, uncomfortable at his sudden questioning. It seems like he is picking on you on purpose. You decide it will be better to divert the conversation, “I met Jeonghan at the restaurant.” You cringe at how you accidentally refer to his friend by his first name.
Your words finally make your boss drop his work and regard you with full attention. “Jeonghan?”
“Erm, Mr. Yoon, I mean.” You avoid his eyes. “He was kind enough to offer me a ride home, since it was raining and all.” You need to stop blabbering. Seungcheol stares at you silently for too long a moment, his intense eyes focused on you as if he is decoding something.
“I see.” He murmurs after a while.
A beat of silence.
“Well then, I will prepare for the meeting.” You awkwardly bow while stepping back, eager to rid yourself of the growing tension in the air. With his usual expressionless face, Seungcheol’s eyes follow you until you are out the door.
—
The meeting today is, in fact, with Jeonghan. This weekend, his gallery is holding an art exhibition, sponsored by Seungcheol’s company, with him as the keynote speaker. Today’s meeting is to cross-check if everything is in place and for last-minute adjustments.
“Where is my dear friend?” Jeonghan asks as he takes a seat in the meeting room. You take a seat on the opposite side of the table while a junior employee distributes the printouts across the table.
“He will be here soon, Mr. Yoon. He told me to go ahead and start the meeting.” You smile. Jeonghan drums his fingers on the desk. “I thought we agreed you’d call me Jeonghan.”
You pause, looking around, briefly meeting the eyes of Jeonghan’s secretary as well as the employee arranging the desk. “At work it may not be the most appropriate.” You explain.
He sighs dramatically. “You know, sometimes, I feel like you are becoming quite like Seungcheol.”
You look at him, wide eyed. “My god, what do you mean?”
He throws his head back and laughs, “The idea is distressing, no?”
“Your face is distressing.” A voice says quietly but unamusedly and you turn back to see Seungcheol stepping into the meeting room, with his usual air of boredom. Taking the seat next to you, he murmurs, “Why don’t you stop flirting with my secretary and optimize the work hours?”
“Someone is extra grumpy today.” Jeonghan teases with a knowing grin. Ignoring him, Seungcheol says to the junior employee, “Mina, can you pull up the slides?”
The rest of the meeting is productive as the four of you finalize all the details and map out the entire event. As the discussion rolls to an end, and your boss is getting up from his seat, Jeonghan says, “___, I would like to have you as a translator for the exhibition day.”
Surprised, you blink at him. Next to you, Seungcheol, who just got up from his chair, stills. Jeonghan continues, “You know, there will be a lot of French guests and I would love it if you were my translator. I’ll pay you for your time, of course.”
“Just hire a translator,” Seungcheol says dryly.
“Oh come on,” Jeonghan rolls his eyes. “Don’t be such a baby. ___ has helped us out with translations before. I need someone I am familiar with and someone who is smart and charming.” He turns to you. “You have no problem with it, right?”
“Uh,” you glance at your boss, who is staring at his friend with narrowed eyes. “No, I don’t mind.” You are supposed to be there anyway, as a representative on Sungcheol’s end. So getting paid separately to be there does not hurt. Besides, you have always loved meeting new people.
“It is settled then,” Jeonghan smiles, clasping his hands. “I promise to return her to you, Cheollie. Stop glaring at me like that.”
“Whatever,” your boss murmurs and marches out of the room, shutting the door behind him with a loud thud. You cringe, before looking at Jeonghan, “I’m sorry. I have no idea why he has been behaving weirdly for the past few days.”
A mysterious smile kisses his lips, “I think I know why.”
“Huh?”
“Never mind.” He turns to his secretary, “Could you please email the contacts of the French guests to ___.”
—
The exhibition starts at 2 pm, but you arrive at Jeonghan’s gallery by 1 pm. Jeonghan’s secretary, Chan, gives you the tour, showing you around the space and the paintings being exhibited while his boss finishes a meeting. Just before the exhibition is about to start, Jeonghan finds you.
“Hey, ___. Sorry, my meeting took longer than expected.”
You smile. “No trouble. Chan was a very helpful guide.”
“That’s good to hear.” He replies before glancing down the length of your body. “You look stunning, by the way.”
Flattered, you glance down at the length of your baby pink dress before giving him a smile. “Thank you. You look great as well.”
He fixes the lapels of his maroon suit with a dramatic gesture. “Thanks, this is a custom piece from Italy. By the way, when is your boss going to grace us with his presence? He does know that he has to be here by 4 for his speech, right?”
“He said he would be here in time.” You give Jeonghan a tight smile. “He had a few meetings in the morning.”
“And let me guess, he is brooding.”
“Yeah, the warehouse shift has been a challenge.”
“Mhm, I think that’s not all.”
“What?” You blink. Before he can reply, Chan calls his name. With a reassuring smile and a soft squeeze on your shoulder, Jeonghan takes his leave.
Thus starts the event. You greet the guests and show them around the gallery, chatting and socializing all the way through while keeping an eye out to make sure everything is going as planned. Despite your worries, Seungcheol shows up on time — 15 minutes before his speech. After the viewing, the crowd moves to the auditorium for the panel discussion, where Seungcheol delivers his speech, along with a few other guests. You have some food, observe the scene, and help the staff with anything they need before finally, the exhibition officially rolls to an end.
To your surprise, Seungcheol stayed the entire time. You had expected him to march out the moment he was done with his formalities but he stayed the entire length of the artist’s discussion panel, hovering around, never quite coming to you or addressing you, puzzling you.
Why was he acting like a stranger?
Just as you are contemplating his behavior with a glass of champagne in your hand, Jeonghan appears. “Thank you so much for your help today, ___. You were amazing.”
You grin. “You are too kind. And it was my pleasure. This is a really good exhibition.”
“Thank you, I am glad you enjoyed it.” He winks playfully. A cameraman walks past you and Jeonghan flags him, asking for a photo of the two of you. You pose next to him, flashing a big smile for the camera. Just as you are recovering from the blinding flash, you see Seungcheol heading towards you.
He is dressed in a dark grey three-piece suit today and all afternoon, you have tried your best not to let yourself drool over him. It does not work right now, as with the jacket off, you can see the muscles of his bicep bulge underneath the white shirt and momentarily, your mind blanks.
“Ugh, there comes Mister Sourpants.” Jeonghan murmurs. Seungcheol comes to a halt in front of you, his eyes briefly meeting yours before he looks at his friend. “Great work on not botching the show.” He says unimpressively. Jeonghan laughs, slinging an arm over his shoulder, “You underestimate me, my friend. But thanks for showing up and not badmouthing me on stage. I’m surprised you’re still here.”
“I was looking at the pictures.” Your boss responds indifferently.
“Well, since you are all still here, let's go grab dinner together.” Jeoghan offers.
“No thanks, I am going back to the office.” Seungcheol removes his friend’s arm from his shoulder. When Jeonghan looks at you expectantly, you say, “I would love to, but not today. I have to go to the office too, as I left my charger. My battery is about to die. I have some work to finish up as well.”
Jeonghan rolls his eyes, “Ever the workaholics. Come on, people, work hours are over!”
“Let’s have dinner on Friday night, perhaps?” You look at Seungcheol for confirmation but he seems busy with his phone, dialling his driver’s number. As he presses the phone against his ear, you notice something and your hands instinctively reach out to fix his crooked tie, before smoothening the hem of his vest. You have done it multiple times before — for meetings and press conferences — as Seungcheol’s tie always seems to rest in a crooked manner.
As you finish fixing it and he hangs up the call, your eyes lock with his and a shiver runs down your spine. In a split second, the air seems to be full of tension, thick enough to cut through with a knife and hot enough to ignite a fire in your belly.
Fuck. You look away and retract your hands, trying to act as normal as possible. “Your tie was crooked.” You murmur.
“Thanks.” Seungcheol’s voice is quiet.
Jeonghan looks at the two of you with a growing smile of mischief. “Well,” he looks pointedly between the two of you, clasping his hands, “I will let you kids get back to work for today. Thanks again for your help, ___.”
“My pleasure.” You smile, suddenly embarrassed to meet his eyes. With a harsh pat on the back and a suggestive wiggle of his brows, Jenghan says goodbye to Seungcheol, grinning like a Cheshire cat. With his friend gone, Seungcheol wastes no time, marching towards the exit, “Let us get going.”
—
It is suffocating inside the car.
Even with the AC on full blast, it feels like a thousand degrees in here with zero ventilation. The earlier tense moment between the two of you seems to linger, now even more amplified than before in this enclosed space.
You shift uncomfortably in your seat, trying to think of something to talk about but coming up with nothing. You don’t trust yourself to speak right now, so you try your very best to look out the window and pretend there is no one sitting next to you. After a while, when doing that gets tough, you pull out your iPad and start sorting through your work.
Just then, Seungcheol speaks. “You seem to have gotten really close with Jeonghan.”
Oh boy. There seems to be an edge to his voice and you are unsure how to reply or what to reply. An awkward laugh floats past your lips. “I mean, he is easy to get along with, you know.”
“Mhmm.” Even the Sahara is not as dry as his tone.
You glance at him, waiting to hear something else. For a brief second, you let yourself be distracted by his gorgeous face — the couple of stray strands of hair on his forehead calling your name, making your hand itch to put them back in place.
Though if it were up to you, you would mess up his hair. And his clothes. And his back—
“From now on, don’t help him out.” He turns to look at you. “He might be my friend but business is still business and you are my employee.”
“Uh, okay.” You whisper. Your boss looks back out the window, and you interpret that as the conversation being over. You return to your work, but for some reason, the numbers and the letters on screen make no sense to you.
A moment later, you whisper, “Did I do something to upset you?”
Seungcheol turns his head slowly to regard you with a quizzical look. A sudden rush of emotions swirls within you, and for a scary moment, you think you might cry. With a deep, calming breath, you meet his eyes and try to flash your usual professional smile. “If you are displeased with my work or anything I have done, I hope you will let me know.”
Seungcheol is mute and slightly wide-eyed, almost like he is scared of you. The silence stretches on like chewing gum, and he looks like he is about to say something, but the car halts, and you waste no time getting out.
A quiet and suffocating elevator ride later, you step into your floor, with Seungcheol leading the way. The office is now empty and quiet, save for your footsteps, which halt in front of your desk as you set your things down. Seungcheol continues his way towards his personal office, but stops at his door. Turning his head back, he says, “Can you come into my office for a second?” His voice is not commanding, and he almost sounds unsure.
Confused, you stare at him for a second as he stands at his door, eyes fixed on you expectantly. Quickly plugging your phone in, you walk towards the double doors, stepping through the one he was holding open.
The second you are inside, Seungcheol locks the door shut behind you. You only get a second to process that you are pressed against the door with Seungcheol’s body dangerously close to yours and keeping you trapped, before a hand cups your jaw and tilts your head up.
“I can’t pretend anymore.” He whispers so low, you almost miss it.
“What?” You croak, your heart galloping like a racehorse, your knees are suddenly weak. What the fuck is going on? Are you dreaming?
His eyes meet yours before he utters very quietly, “I can’t pretend that I don’t care for you. I care much, much more than a boss should care for his secretary.”
“I…I don’t…” You mumble, heart racing in your ribcage, brain functioning on overdrive to make sense of what is happening.
“I am going to kiss you now, ___.” He warns. Then, Seungcheol is kissing you.
Warm, soft and delightful, you forget to breathe for a long second, your heart swooning, ready to burst. Almost unconsciously, you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him close, molding your body with his. His large arms wrap around your back and your waist, pressing you flush against him, and you swear it is the best feeling in the world.
When you part, Seungcheol looks at you with glistening eyes, warm like a summer afternoon and for a second, you get lost in them. The kiss lingers on your lips, making you bite your lower lip. Like yours, your boss’s lips too, are swollen and just as he leans his face towards you again, you stop him, pressing your hands flat on his chest.
“Wait. Stop.” You say, voice too loud amongst the stillness.
Seungcheol pauses, eyes flashing with worry.
“Are you drunk, Mr. Choi?”
“What?”
“This cannot happen if you are drunk.” You take a deep, shuddering breath. “I… I cannot be your plaything. You know very well that I like you — I have been for a while and I’m trying to make sense of why you are suddenly doing this. I…I cannot—” you are suddenly choked with emotion, your gaze falling on the floor.
“___.” He says your name with a tenderness unlike ever before. “Look at me.”
You cannot bring yourself to, fighting to keep the tears at bay. With a finger below your chin, he tilts your face up to meet his eyes. “I am not playing with you. I am doing what I should have done long ago.”
“What?”
“I like you, ___. A lot. And I have liked you for a while. I just did not realize it,” He sighs, taking a step back and running a hand through his hair. “Well, I actually did…I think. I just did not want to give in to it, I suppose, with the dynamic we have and all.” His pauses, looking back at you. “I know this is pathetic, especially with the way I have been behaving for the past few weeks, but I cannot pretend anymore. I hate seeing you go on those dates. I hate seeing you be friendly with Jeonghan. I want to do those things with you. I want to be with you.”
Breathless, you gape at him, still struggling to believe that all of this is real.
Holy shit. Holy fucking shit.
“I took you for granted.” He continues. “I got so used to your presence around me that I thought I would have you forever, forgetting that you could eventually move and find someone else, not only getting over me but leaving this job altogether.”
“So what, this is a ploy to keep me working here forever?” An awkward laugh comes from your mouth. Seungcheol keeps looking at you with a somber expression, a quiet storm brewing in his eyes.
“I mean it, ___. I want you. I want you to be mine, and I want to be yours.” He says quietly.
Wow. You must have died and gone to heaven.
Realizing that there is not much left to say, you inhale a steady breath, remove the gap between the two of you with a few quick steps, wrap your arms around his neck and pull him in for a kiss. Seungcheol wastes no time, wrapping his arms around you, meeting your lips with an equal fervor and the passion of a starving man. Lips connected, bodies in embrace, he guides you through the office, stopping in front of his desk and pushing you against it.
Catching his breath, he swiftly takes off his jacket and your fingers reach out to undo the buttons of his vest, shaking with hazy desire. He helps in taking off your dress, undoing the ribbon on the back and pulling down the zipper before tugging it down with one strong move. Left only in your bra and panties — which do not match by the way — you cringe in embarrassment while trying to combat the sheer amount of desire flowing through your veins. Seungcheol, unbothered, gets down on his knees, face to face with your pussy.
“Oh my god, what are you doing?” You squeak. The response is him taking off your panties with a tug so harsh that the lace on the edges rips.
“Seungcheol!”
“That’s right. That’s how you call me from now on. And that is the only word I want to hear from you now.” He commands with a burning fire in his eyes as he grabs your thighs, putting them over his shoulder and then gets to work.
Shit.
His tongue laps at your core and the first touch has you falling back on his desk, pushing down the stack of files and stationery on the floor. His tongue works at your core mercilessly, switching between playing with your folds and sucking your clit while you writhe in his grasp that is iron clad. With each flick of his tongue, your moans rise, and then he inserts one finger, which very quickly turns into two, and you think might die from the pleasure.
"Fuck!" You cry, body twisting and turning on his desk, desperate to get away from his touch but wanting it simultaneously. It is maddening —whatever that is happening, and you feel your high building, too quick, too strong.
"I cannot...Seungcheol...I think— I think—"
His response is muffled and you can only hope its a positive one as you feel the tremors run through your body, sitting right at the edge of an orgasm. His tongue moves like he has known your body for years, and with one strong flick on your clit, you go off, falling head first into an abyss of pleasure, all your nerves on fire.
As you lie flat on his desk, body still trembling from the orgasm, Seungcheol smothers kisses on your belly, slowly going up towards your chest and then your neck, biting and sucking your skin however he likes. You have bearely had a couple of minutes to recover, but heat starts pooling in your belly all over again, your hands coming up to wrap themselves around him, soft sighs parting from your lips as he kisses your jawbone, soft and sweet.
“You are so beautiful,” he whispers in your ears. With a thousand butterflies fluttering in your stomach, you turn your head to capture his lips in a kiss.
Then, he stands up, discards all the remaining clothes from his body and makes himself comfortable between your legs. You prop yourself on your elbows, taking a good look at his chiseled body and his flushed cock, which stands tall and angry, pointing at you.
“It’s rude to stare, you know.” Your boss hums, stroking his length, before hooking an arm underneath your thigh and yanking you closer to the edge of the table, your pussy a mere inch or so away from his cock.
“I am so sorry, sir,” you smile suggestively and Seunghcheol exhales a rough breath.
“You better keep screaming that when I pound this pussy.” His eyes shine with determination. You bite your lip, giving him a cheeky smile and watch as he inches his cock near your pussy. You take in a deep breath as he pushes his cock inside you, tantalizingly slowly, making sure you feel every inch and your nerves are on fire. With a moan, you fall back on the table, eyes falling shut with the way he fills you up over and over again.
“Fuck,” Seungcheol hisses, his voice throaty as he goes all the way in, and you swear you feel him in your stomach. With a loud cry, you cling onto his body, nails digging into his back and your toes curling at each thrust. He builds a pace, pushing in and out of you in steady movements. Your brain feels like mush as you fail to utter anything, your mouth simply hanging open to let out breathy pants as you close your eyes and feel every ridge of his cock move in and out of you.
“Fuck, you feel so good,” he mutters underneath his breath, eyes set on you so intensely, you feel a shiver run down your back. “Seungcheol…” his name parts from your lips like a prayer. Another mutter of curse from him before he stops his movements and yanks your ass upwards. The new angle makes his length curve inside you and you start seeing stars.
“Oh my god,” you hiss, eyes squeezed shut. The back of your thighs rests over Seungcheol’s, your legs wrapped around his waist, and your hands clutching his arms as he starts to pick up pace. With each thrust, the force increases, the tip of his cock hitting your most sensitive spot, low groans falling from his lips to match your breathy moans.
“Shit...I want to cum...please,” your whisper mindlessly, the words scattered between whines of pleasure. “You want to come?” He taunts, leaning closer to look at your face. “Beg me. Say sir, please let me cum.”
Oh god.
The need to find your release only intensifies at his words. You are so close you can almost taste the blissful release, and as you utter the next words, you wonder what other hidden kinks you have. “Sir, please let me come.” You beg, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him closer to you. The man squeezes his eyes shut and lets out a low groan, his pace increasing.
“Fuck, you’re going to be the death of me,’’ he hisses in your ears, his warm breath tickling your skin.
“Please, sir.” You whisper, doe-eyed and drunk on his cock. “Oh baby,” he murmurs, before leaning in to seize your lips in a bruising kiss. With one hand, he keeps a firm hold on your jaw while the other reaches below to touch your clit as he wastes no time rubbing the sensitive bundle of nerves with the pads of his finger, all the while continuing to thrust inside you earnestly.
“Seungcheol!” With a loud cry you part your lips from his, your entire body jolting at his touch.
Your reaction makes him smirk as he chases his own high, not far away from finishing inside you. Standing up, he slows he pace ever so slightly, making sure to put all his body weight in each thrust as he places your clit between his thumb and index finger, giving you a particularly harsh rub followed by a pinch.
You are catapulted over the edge. Your vision goes white, your entire sweat-coated body twitching on his desk from the intensity of the orgasm. It only amplifies as you feel Seungcheol spill inside you, his warm release filling you up while float as high as the clouds, pure bliss overtaking your senses.
Once you have caught your breath and managed to gather your senses, you realize you lie on top of Seungcheol on the office floor, your bodies pressed together, riddled with exhaustion and sweat. For a moment, you say nothing, just feeling Seungcheol’s chest go up and down with every breath he takes.
“I can’t believe we just did that. In the office.” You whisper, almost like someone would hear you. Seungcheol shifts underneath you, helping you rest your head on his arm. “Me too but about time I acted on my desires.”
Shy but intrigued, you look at him, “Have you been wanting to do this for a while?”
“Fuck you on my desk?” He asks bluntly, making your face heat up. “God yes. You have no idea how long I have wanted to do that.”
A small burst of laughter parts from your lips, delighted at his confession. Snuggling closer to him, you start tracing your index finger aimlessly over his chest. “We are going to be a nightmare for HR.”
“Fuck them. I am the CEO.”
His response makes you smile. “You are serious about this, aren’t you?” Seungcheol’s hand reaches out to cup your cheek, tilting your face upwards to look at him. “If you still have any doubts in your heart, you need to let them go because I am dead serious. You are mine.”
His words reignite the fire in your belly. And the way your lipstick marks are branded all over his face does not quite help either. Still, you decide on teasing him with a pout, “Was that supposed to be a confession? At least buy me some flow—”
You are cut off with another ruthless kiss. His tongue passionately makes its way into your mouth, meeting yours that is equally wanton. You claw at his chest, a soft moan escaping your lips as you feel him growing hard again.
“Fuck,” he almost yanks himself free from your lips. “Let me get you home before we start round two here.” Your delighted laughter rings in the air as the two of you get dressed.
Next morning, when you wake up in Seungcheol’s bed, a bouquet of a hundred roses sits at the foot of the bed, with a note saying:
Can I be your boyfriend?
For a bonus epilogue, click here! This work will also be cross-posted on my AO3.
a/n: this was supposed to be out like a month ago but life got in the way, I suppose. been feeling quite shitty these days hence I haven't been writing much but I have started on this wonwoo fic that is inspired by Perfect Crown (the prime minister's character basically) so let's see where we can go with that. thank you for reading till the end and as always, your reblog, comments and feedback are very very appreciated!
Aaaaaaah Lover Cheol 😭😭 I love him, I wanted to keep him in the streets when he talk rude to oc and then the show with the flowers, he is so infuriating!! But beneath all that, he's kind and lovely!!! I'm glad they could talk and that he's trying for her!
I love the three parts, they really are my favorite!!!
Thank you so much for enjoying the series and taking time out of your day to share these messages! I really appreciate it.
Aaaaah Playboy Jeonghan!!! I love him but I wanted to throw him, how could he think it was about Mingyu when oc confessed her love for him? I got so mad at him, I was on Chan's side the last part, he deserved it.
But I'm glad he came clean and talk about his feelings 🥹🥹 I'm so happy for them
What can I say, my fav ML from the sugar daddy series. 🤲💯
Siiii.you don't know how much I'm crying with Gentleman, omg I'm so happy oc has friends that stop bad thoughts and push her to get the things she wants, after being alone she deserves them. And Joshua!!! He's incredible, how can he be like that, he's unreal!
I'll go and cry some more, I really really loved it!!
Thank you! It's amazing to see how much love my 95z sugar daddy series still receives. Joshua in this fic was definitely a delightful character to write, so I'm happy it paid off!
Omg I love Sweetest Salvation, he fits so well the vibe!! I didn't expect Dino's confession, I got surprised when Jeonghan told oc her mistakes and how he could help her. How is he so enchanting???
And 3 dates!!! I cried along with oc in the epilogue, he got some nerve returning to her house, but he knew she would go out to see him. I'm glad he realised his feelings and give them a chance!! It was amazing!!
Thank you for enjoying one of my most recent and one of my oldest fanfics! I cringe whenever I think of my old works but really happy that you enjoyed!
Hi, since you wrote scars leave a beautiful trace with incredible portrayal of historical setting. Do you know any helpful resources to write period/Joseon era setting historical au like yours?
Waittt this is such a huge compliment! Thank you anon for saying that but trust me, it's riddled with inaccuracies but then again, it's fiction.
Tbh my resources were all historical kdramas. Sometime back I went through a strong phase of historical kdramas where I was obsessed and saeguk dramas were all I watched. So that was my reference point. And if I didn't know anything (like vocabs) I just googled it.
Hope this was helpful and thank you for dropping by!
synopsis ➠ you have a crush on your boss and he knows it. he just does not care. until, he starts behaving awfully lot like someone who cares—or maybe you are reading too much into it.
genre ➠ office romance, unrequited love, smut.
word count ➠ 5.7k
warnings ➠ pining, low-key asshole cheol, flirty jeonghan who's lowkey a cupid, unequal power dynamics ig, jealousy, cursing, reader does smth pretty embarrassing, lowkey unrequited love, unprotected sex, office sex, tiny bit of sir kink, female oral, hickeys, multiple orgasms, a lot of kissing, creampie, HR would go crazy if they knew what these two were doing in the office.
“Can I leave early today?” You stand in front of your boss’s desk, sweaty hands clasped in front of you, heartbeat thudding in your ears. Seungcheol has been in a bad mood for a few days now — with the factory relocation and all, which has made his usual grumpy self even grumpier.
“Why?” He drops the file you just brought in with a thud on his desk. Leaning back on his chair, he stares at you with a pointed gaze, like a prison officer looking at an inmate.
“Uhm…I actually have a date…” You murmur. Still impassive, he keeps boring holes into your face with his eyes as you grow uncomfortable.
“Date, huh?”
“Yes.”
He rubs his index finger thoughtfully over his chin before saying, “Go ahead. Take the afternoon off.”
Whew. “Thank you, sir.”
“I hope you won’t go on your date dressed like that.”
What?
You pause, thinking you misheard, and blink at him, who is now looking at his computer screen like he did not just make that snide remark. You look down at your clothes — baby blue silk blouse and a cream skirt — this is not a bad outfit. Not that you were going to go on your date like this anyway. You asked to leave early so that you could go home and freshen up.
Biting your cheek, you hold back any retort. Instead, you decide to overlook his petulance and offer him a smile as you step back. “I will see you on Monday, sir.”
He does not respond and you march out of his office.
—
The man in front of you — Eric — is underwhelming. You already forgot his last name.
he is definitely not worth you going home early to take a full body shower, shave and put on makeup and a nice dress. One hour into the date at the Italian restaurant, he keeps on talking about some start-up he and his buddies are working on, not bothering to ask you a single question.
As you play with the cherry tomatoes on your plate, occasionally nodding as a pretence of listening, your mind starts to wander. And like most times, they drift to the thought of Choi Seungcheol, your boss.
You have had a crush on him for a few years now. The story is an embarrassing one but you have come to own it over time. Five years ago, when you first joined this company as a junior sales executive, he was the COO. He made a good name for himself and the previous chairman loved him, so it was almost an open secret that he would be the next one to take over. He was the definition of tall, dark, and handsome, with a side of sharp intellect and unapologetic bluntness, gaining everyone's admiration if not support.
As expected, once the ex chairman resigned two years later, Seungcheol became the CEO. Right away, he needed a secretary and he wanted someone within the company who already knew the ropes. Among the five applicants, you got the job, and right there, your future was decided — working in close quarters with Choi Seungcheol, the handsome, brooding man whom you looked up to immensely. And somewhere between you switching roles and becoming his right hand person, you fell for him. Hard.
And it was supposed to be a secret. A harmless little crush. Until that one mistake drunk you made.
You had sent your coworker Minji — who is also one of your best friends since college — a text one night after a team dinner, fangirling about your boss in the most brazen way. The next morning, you woke up to see that you, in fact, did not send the text to Minji but the group chat you were in with all the sales team members. Words spread like wildfire, and on Monday, when you showed up at work (while contemplating on what excuse to make up and quit this job and leave this city; possibly the country) word had already reached Seungcheol. Once in his office, he asked you only two questions. Was it true? You nodded yes. Were your feelings going to affect your work? You vehemently shook your head no. As unbothered as ever, he signed some files, handed them back to you and said that all was good and he would overlook this fumble.
And so, since then, everyone in the office knows you have heart eyes for your boss. And over time, you have gotten good at acting casual about it. Except, you know, there is nothing casual about it. It has become a disease, the way you yearn for that man, and it was high time you decided to get out of that cycle of torment.
Which is why you are on this date.
And it isn’t really going well.
Eric is still, somehow, talking about his start-up. With a tight-lipped smile, you interrupt him as your patience stretches thin, “Shall we order dessert?”
—
It is drizzling now.
Outside the restaurant, you stand and wait for your Uber, which seems to be malfunctioning. For the past ten minutes, it has been looking for a driver, but to no avail.
Eric left a while ago, parting with decency once you said you were not sure this would go anywhere. He agreed, saying he was too focused on his business right now anyway. So, that was that.
As you stand and watch the rain, contemplating your life so far, a familiar voice calls your name. “Secretary ___?” You turn around to see Yoon Jeonghan, one of Seungcheol’s closest friends and a big name in the business world. You have worked with him a lot on various projects over the past few years and he has almost become your friend as much as he is Seungcheol’s — especially due to his easygoing behavior and charming humour. He is the exact opposite of Seunghceol in terms of personality and attitude, and you sometimes wonder how they are such good friends.
“Good evening, Mr. Yoon.” You smile.
“See, I thought I saw you earlier when I came in.” He says, stepping out of the restaurant and standing next to you. “Were you not here with someone else?”
You nod.
“Date?”
Another nod with an awkward smile.
“Let me guess, it did not go well.”
“Not really.”
He chuckles. “Well, it is good to see you trying.” He sends a playful look your way. “As I have always been saying, you are too good for Seungcheol. I can get past you being his secretary, but his girlfriend? Nah, that guy isn’t worthy of you.”
Yeah, even Jeonghan knows about your crush on his friend. Probably everyone in this field does.
“I am sure Seungcheol would not like hearing you badmouth him.” You tease.
Jeonghan sends a dramatic look of offence your way. “Badmouth? I am stating the facts, ___. And he would agree with me.”
A black Mercedes pulls up in front of you, the driver stepping out to hold the back door open and Jeonghan extends a hand, gesturing you to get in.
“What? Oh no, I couldn’t possibly trouble you.” You refuse politely.
“No trouble, ___. Get in. You are not going to find a ride anytime soon.”
You bite your lip, hesitating for a second. “Thank you, Mr. Yoon.”
“When are you going to stop calling me that? I told you, Jeonghan is fine.”
Maybe it is the wine in your blood that enables you to say, “Alright, thank you for the ride, Jeonghan.”
He smiles, closing the door behind you.
—
“How was the date?” Seungcheol asks without sparing a look at you as you set down his morning coffee on his desk while he flips through the pages of a report.
You pause. “It was…okay.”
His eyes stray from the documents briefly, taking a quick look at your face before returning to the report. “Seems it was unworthy of the afternoon you took off.”
You look around his office helplessly, uncomfortable at his sudden questioning. It seems like he is picking on you on purpose. You decide it will be better to divert the conversation, “I met Jeonghan at the restaurant.” You cringe at how you accidentally refer to his friend by his first name.
Your words finally make your boss drop his work and regard you with full attention. “Jeonghan?”
“Erm, Mr. Yoon, I mean.” You avoid his eyes. “He was kind enough to offer me a ride home, since it was raining and all.” You need to stop blabbering. Seungcheol stares at you silently for too long a moment, his intense eyes focused on you as if he is decoding something.
“I see.” He murmurs after a while.
A beat of silence.
“Well then, I will prepare for the meeting.” You awkwardly bow while stepping back, eager to rid yourself of the growing tension in the air. With his usual expressionless face, Seungcheol’s eyes follow you until you are out the door.
—
The meeting today is, in fact, with Jeonghan. This weekend, his gallery is holding an art exhibition, sponsored by Seungcheol’s company, with him as the keynote speaker. Today’s meeting is to cross-check if everything is in place and for last-minute adjustments.
“Where is my dear friend?” Jeonghan asks as he takes a seat in the meeting room. You take a seat on the opposite side of the table while a junior employee distributes the printouts across the table.
“He will be here soon, Mr. Yoon. He told me to go ahead and start the meeting.” You smile. Jeonghan drums his fingers on the desk. “I thought we agreed you’d call me Jeonghan.”
You pause, looking around, briefly meeting the eyes of Jeonghan’s secretary as well as the employee arranging the desk. “At work it may not be the most appropriate.” You explain.
He sighs dramatically. “You know, sometimes, I feel like you are becoming quite like Seungcheol.”
You look at him, wide eyed. “My god, what do you mean?”
He throws his head back and laughs, “The idea is distressing, no?”
“Your face is distressing.” A voice says quietly but unamusedly and you turn back to see Seungcheol stepping into the meeting room, with his usual air of boredom. Taking the seat next to you, he murmurs, “Why don’t you stop flirting with my secretary and optimize the work hours?”
“Someone is extra grumpy today.” Jeonghan teases with a knowing grin. Ignoring him, Seungcheol says to the junior employee, “Mina, can you pull up the slides?”
The rest of the meeting is productive as the four of you finalize all the details and map out the entire event. As the discussion rolls to an end, and your boss is getting up from his seat, Jeonghan says, “___, I would like to have you as a translator for the exhibition day.”
Surprised, you blink at him. Next to you, Seungcheol, who just got up from his chair, stills. Jeonghan continues, “You know, there will be a lot of French guests and I would love it if you were my translator. I’ll pay you for your time, of course.”
“Just hire a translator,” Seungcheol says dryly.
“Oh come on,” Jeonghan rolls his eyes. “Don’t be such a baby. ___ has helped us out with translations before. I need someone I am familiar with and someone who is smart and charming.” He turns to you. “You have no problem with it, right?”
“Uh,” you glance at your boss, who is staring at his friend with narrowed eyes. “No, I don’t mind.” You are supposed to be there anyway, as a representative on Sungcheol’s end. So getting paid separately to be there does not hurt. Besides, you have always loved meeting new people.
“It is settled then,” Jeonghan smiles, clasping his hands. “I promise to return her to you, Cheollie. Stop glaring at me like that.”
“Whatever,” your boss murmurs and marches out of the room, shutting the door behind him with a loud thud. You cringe, before looking at Jeonghan, “I’m sorry. I have no idea why he has been behaving weirdly for the past few days.”
A mysterious smile kisses his lips, “I think I know why.”
“Huh?”
“Never mind.” He turns to his secretary, “Could you please email the contacts of the French guests to ___.”
—
The exhibition starts at 2 pm, but you arrive at Jeonghan’s gallery by 1 pm. Jeonghan’s secretary, Chan, gives you the tour, showing you around the space and the paintings being exhibited while his boss finishes a meeting. Just before the exhibition is about to start, Jeonghan finds you.
“Hey, ___. Sorry, my meeting took longer than expected.”
You smile. “No trouble. Chan was a very helpful guide.”
“That’s good to hear.” He replies before glancing down the length of your body. “You look stunning, by the way.”
Flattered, you glance down at the length of your baby pink dress before giving him a smile. “Thank you. You look great as well.”
He fixes the lapels of his maroon suit with a dramatic gesture. “Thanks, this is a custom piece from Italy. By the way, when is your boss going to grace us with his presence? He does know that he has to be here by 4 for his speech, right?”
“He said he would be here in time.” You give Jeonghan a tight smile. “He had a few meetings in the morning.”
“And let me guess, he is brooding.”
“Yeah, the warehouse shift has been a challenge.”
“Mhm, I think that’s not all.”
“What?” You blink. Before he can reply, Chan calls his name. With a reassuring smile and a soft squeeze on your shoulder, Jeonghan takes his leave.
Thus starts the event. You greet the guests and show them around the gallery, chatting and socializing all the way through while keeping an eye out to make sure everything is going as planned. Despite your worries, Seungcheol shows up on time — 15 minutes before his speech. After the viewing, the crowd moves to the auditorium for the panel discussion, where Seungcheol delivers his speech, along with a few other guests. You have some food, observe the scene, and help the staff with anything they need before finally, the exhibition officially rolls to an end.
To your surprise, Seungcheol stayed the entire time. You had expected him to march out the moment he was done with his formalities but he stayed the entire length of the artist’s discussion panel, hovering around, never quite coming to you or addressing you, puzzling you.
Why was he acting like a stranger?
Just as you are contemplating his behavior with a glass of champagne in your hand, Jeonghan appears. “Thank you so much for your help today, ___. You were amazing.”
You grin. “You are too kind. And it was my pleasure. This is a really good exhibition.”
“Thank you, I am glad you enjoyed it.” He winks playfully. A cameraman walks past you and Jeonghan flags him, asking for a photo of the two of you. You pose next to him, flashing a big smile for the camera. Just as you are recovering from the blinding flash, you see Seungcheol heading towards you.
He is dressed in a dark grey three-piece suit today and all afternoon, you have tried your best not to let yourself drool over him. It does not work right now, as with the jacket off, you can see the muscles of his bicep bulge underneath the white shirt and momentarily, your mind blanks.
“Ugh, there comes Mister Sourpants.” Jeonghan murmurs. Seungcheol comes to a halt in front of you, his eyes briefly meeting yours before he looks at his friend. “Great work on not botching the show.” He says unimpressively. Jeonghan laughs, slinging an arm over his shoulder, “You underestimate me, my friend. But thanks for showing up and not badmouthing me on stage. I’m surprised you’re still here.”
“I was looking at the pictures.” Your boss responds indifferently.
“Well, since you are all still here, let's go grab dinner together.” Jeoghan offers.
“No thanks, I am going back to the office.” Seungcheol removes his friend’s arm from his shoulder. When Jeonghan looks at you expectantly, you say, “I would love to, but not today. I have to go to the office too, as I left my charger. My battery is about to die. I have some work to finish up as well.”
Jeonghan rolls his eyes, “Ever the workaholics. Come on, people, work hours are over!”
“Let’s have dinner on Friday night, perhaps?” You look at Seungcheol for confirmation but he seems busy with his phone, dialling his driver’s number. As he presses the phone against his ear, you notice something and your hands instinctively reach out to fix his crooked tie, before smoothening the hem of his vest. You have done it multiple times before — for meetings and press conferences — as Seungcheol’s tie always seems to rest in a crooked manner.
As you finish fixing it and he hangs up the call, your eyes lock with his and a shiver runs down your spine. In a split second, the air seems to be full of tension, thick enough to cut through with a knife and hot enough to ignite a fire in your belly.
Fuck. You look away and retract your hands, trying to act as normal as possible. “Your tie was crooked.” You murmur.
“Thanks.” Seungcheol’s voice is quiet.
Jeonghan looks at the two of you with a growing smile of mischief. “Well,” he looks pointedly between the two of you, clasping his hands, “I will let you kids get back to work for today. Thanks again for your help, ___.”
“My pleasure.” You smile, suddenly embarrassed to meet his eyes. With a harsh pat on the back and a suggestive wiggle of his brows, Jenghan says goodbye to Seungcheol, grinning like a Cheshire cat. With his friend gone, Seungcheol wastes no time, marching towards the exit, “Let us get going.”
—
It is suffocating inside the car.
Even with the AC on full blast, it feels like a thousand degrees in here with zero ventilation. The earlier tense moment between the two of you seems to linger, now even more amplified than before in this enclosed space.
You shift uncomfortably in your seat, trying to think of something to talk about but coming up with nothing. You don’t trust yourself to speak right now, so you try your very best to look out the window and pretend there is no one sitting next to you. After a while, when doing that gets tough, you pull out your iPad and start sorting through your work.
Just then, Seungcheol speaks. “You seem to have gotten really close with Jeonghan.”
Oh boy. There seems to be an edge to his voice and you are unsure how to reply or what to reply. An awkward laugh floats past your lips. “I mean, he is easy to get along with, you know.”
“Mhmm.” Even the Sahara is not as dry as his tone.
You glance at him, waiting to hear something else. For a brief second, you let yourself be distracted by his gorgeous face — the couple of stray strands of hair on his forehead calling your name, making your hand itch to put them back in place.
Though if it were up to you, you would mess up his hair. And his clothes. And his back—
“From now on, don’t help him out.” He turns to look at you. “He might be my friend but business is still business and you are my employee.”
“Uh, okay.” You whisper. Your boss looks back out the window, and you interpret that as the conversation being over. You return to your work, but for some reason, the numbers and the letters on screen make no sense to you.
A moment later, you whisper, “Did I do something to upset you?”
Seungcheol turns his head slowly to regard you with a quizzical look. A sudden rush of emotions swirls within you, and for a scary moment, you think you might cry. With a deep, calming breath, you meet his eyes and try to flash your usual professional smile. “If you are displeased with my work or anything I have done, I hope you will let me know.”
Seungcheol is mute and slightly wide-eyed, almost like he is scared of you. The silence stretches on like chewing gum, and he looks like he is about to say something, but the car halts, and you waste no time getting out.
A quiet and suffocating elevator ride later, you step into your floor, with Seungcheol leading the way. The office is now empty and quiet, save for your footsteps, which halt in front of your desk as you set your things down. Seungcheol continues his way towards his personal office, but stops at his door. Turning his head back, he says, “Can you come into my office for a second?” His voice is not commanding, and he almost sounds unsure.
Confused, you stare at him for a second as he stands at his door, eyes fixed on you expectantly. Quickly plugging your phone in, you walk towards the double doors, stepping through the one he was holding open.
The second you are inside, Seungcheol locks the door shut behind you. You only get a second to process that you are pressed against the door with Seungcheol’s body dangerously close to yours and keeping you trapped, before a hand cups your jaw and tilts your head up.
“I can’t pretend anymore.” He whispers so low, you almost miss it.
“What?” You croak, your heart galloping like a racehorse, your knees are suddenly weak. What the fuck is going on? Are you dreaming?
His eyes meet yours before he utters very quietly, “I can’t pretend that I don’t care for you. I care much, much more than a boss should care for his secretary.”
“I…I don’t…” You mumble, heart racing in your ribcage, brain functioning on overdrive to make sense of what is happening.
“I am going to kiss you now, ___.” He warns. Then, Seungcheol is kissing you.
Warm, soft and delightful, you forget to breathe for a long second, your heart swooning, ready to burst. Almost unconsciously, you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him close, molding your body with his. His large arms wrap around your back and your waist, pressing you flush against him, and you swear it is the best feeling in the world.
When you part, Seungcheol looks at you with glistening eyes, warm like a summer afternoon and for a second, you get lost in them. The kiss lingers on your lips, making you bite your lower lip. Like yours, your boss’s lips too, are swollen and just as he leans his face towards you again, you stop him, pressing your hands flat on his chest.
“Wait. Stop.” You say, voice too loud amongst the stillness.
Seungcheol pauses, eyes flashing with worry.
“Are you drunk, Mr. Choi?”
“What?”
“This cannot happen if you are drunk.” You take a deep, shuddering breath. “I… I cannot be your plaything. You know very well that I like you — I have been for a while and I’m trying to make sense of why you are suddenly doing this. I…I cannot—” you are suddenly choked with emotion, your gaze falling on the floor.
“___.” He says your name with a tenderness unlike ever before. “Look at me.”
You cannot bring yourself to, fighting to keep the tears at bay. With a finger below your chin, he tilts your face up to meet his eyes. “I am not playing with you. I am doing what I should have done long ago.”
“What?”
“I like you, ___. A lot. And I have liked you for a while. I just did not realize it,” He sighs, taking a step back and running a hand through his hair. “Well, I actually did…I think. I just did not want to give in to it, I suppose, with the dynamic we have and all.” His pauses, looking back at you. “I know this is pathetic, especially with the way I have been behaving for the past few weeks, but I cannot pretend anymore. I hate seeing you go on those dates. I hate seeing you be friendly with Jeonghan. I want to do those things with you. I want to be with you.”
Breathless, you gape at him, still struggling to believe that all of this is real.
Holy shit. Holy fucking shit.
“I took you for granted.” He continues. “I got so used to your presence around me that I thought I would have you forever, forgetting that you could eventually move and find someone else, not only getting over me but leaving this job altogether.”
“So what, this is a ploy to keep me working here forever?” An awkward laugh comes from your mouth. Seungcheol keeps looking at you with a somber expression, a quiet storm brewing in his eyes.
“I mean it, ___. I want you. I want you to be mine, and I want to be yours.” He says quietly.
Wow. You must have died and gone to heaven.
Realizing that there is not much left to say, you inhale a steady breath, remove the gap between the two of you with a few quick steps, wrap your arms around his neck and pull him in for a kiss. Seungcheol wastes no time, wrapping his arms around you, meeting your lips with an equal fervor and the passion of a starving man. Lips connected, bodies in embrace, he guides you through the office, stopping in front of his desk and pushing you against it.
Catching his breath, he swiftly takes off his jacket and your fingers reach out to undo the buttons of his vest, shaking with hazy desire. He helps in taking off your dress, undoing the ribbon on the back and pulling down the zipper before tugging it down with one strong move. Left only in your bra and panties — which do not match by the way — you cringe in embarrassment while trying to combat the sheer amount of desire flowing through your veins. Seungcheol, unbothered, gets down on his knees, face to face with your pussy.
“Oh my god, what are you doing?” You squeak. The response is him taking off your panties with a tug so harsh that the lace on the edges rips.
“Seungcheol!”
“That’s right. That’s how you call me from now on. And that is the only word I want to hear from you now.” He commands with a burning fire in his eyes as he grabs your thighs, putting them over his shoulder and then gets to work.
Shit.
His tongue laps at your core and the first touch has you falling back on his desk, pushing down the stack of files and stationery on the floor. His tongue works at your core mercilessly, switching between playing with your folds and sucking your clit while you writhe in his grasp that is iron clad. With each flick of his tongue, your moans rise, and then he inserts one finger, which very quickly turns into two, and you think might die from the pleasure.
"Fuck!" You cry, body twisting and turning on his desk, desperate to get away from his touch but wanting it simultaneously. It is maddening —whatever that is happening, and you feel your high building, too quick, too strong.
"I cannot...Seungcheol...I think— I think—"
His response is muffled and you can only hope its a positive one as you feel the tremors run through your body, sitting right at the edge of an orgasm. His tongue moves like he has known your body for years, and with one strong flick on your clit, you go off, falling head first into an abyss of pleasure, all your nerves on fire.
As you lie flat on his desk, body still trembling from the orgasm, Seungcheol smothers kisses on your belly, slowly going up towards your chest and then your neck, biting and sucking your skin however he likes. You have bearely had a couple of minutes to recover, but heat starts pooling in your belly all over again, your hands coming up to wrap themselves around him, soft sighs parting from your lips as he kisses your jawbone, soft and sweet.
“You are so beautiful,” he whispers in your ears. With a thousand butterflies fluttering in your stomach, you turn your head to capture his lips in a kiss.
Then, he stands up, discards all the remaining clothes from his body and makes himself comfortable between your legs. You prop yourself on your elbows, taking a good look at his chiseled body and his flushed cock, which stands tall and angry, pointing at you.
“It’s rude to stare, you know.” Your boss hums, stroking his length, before hooking an arm underneath your thigh and yanking you closer to the edge of the table, your pussy a mere inch or so away from his cock.
“I am so sorry, sir,” you smile suggestively and Seunghcheol exhales a rough breath.
“You better keep screaming that when I pound this pussy.” His eyes shine with determination. You bite your lip, giving him a cheeky smile and watch as he inches his cock near your pussy. You take in a deep breath as he pushes his cock inside you, tantalizingly slowly, making sure you feel every inch and your nerves are on fire. With a moan, you fall back on the table, eyes falling shut with the way he fills you up over and over again.
“Fuck,” Seungcheol hisses, his voice throaty as he goes all the way in, and you swear you feel him in your stomach. With a loud cry, you cling onto his body, nails digging into his back and your toes curling at each thrust. He builds a pace, pushing in and out of you in steady movements. Your brain feels like mush as you fail to utter anything, your mouth simply hanging open to let out breathy pants as you close your eyes and feel every ridge of his cock move in and out of you.
“Fuck, you feel so good,” he mutters underneath his breath, eyes set on you so intensely, you feel a shiver run down your back. “Seungcheol…” his name parts from your lips like a prayer. Another mutter of curse from him before he stops his movements and yanks your ass upwards. The new angle makes his length curve inside you and you start seeing stars.
“Oh my god,” you hiss, eyes squeezed shut. The back of your thighs rests over Seungcheol’s, your legs wrapped around his waist, and your hands clutching his arms as he starts to pick up pace. With each thrust, the force increases, the tip of his cock hitting your most sensitive spot, low groans falling from his lips to match your breathy moans.
“Shit...I want to cum...please,” your whisper mindlessly, the words scattered between whines of pleasure. “You want to come?” He taunts, leaning closer to look at your face. “Beg me. Say sir, please let me cum.”
Oh god.
The need to find your release only intensifies at his words. You are so close you can almost taste the blissful release, and as you utter the next words, you wonder what other hidden kinks you have. “Sir, please let me come.” You beg, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him closer to you. The man squeezes his eyes shut and lets out a low groan, his pace increasing.
“Fuck, you’re going to be the death of me,’’ he hisses in your ears, his warm breath tickling your skin.
“Please, sir.” You whisper, doe-eyed and drunk on his cock. “Oh baby,” he murmurs, before leaning in to seize your lips in a bruising kiss. With one hand, he keeps a firm hold on your jaw while the other reaches below to touch your clit as he wastes no time rubbing the sensitive bundle of nerves with the pads of his finger, all the while continuing to thrust inside you earnestly.
“Seungcheol!” With a loud cry you part your lips from his, your entire body jolting at his touch.
Your reaction makes him smirk as he chases his own high, not far away from finishing inside you. Standing up, he slows he pace ever so slightly, making sure to put all his body weight in each thrust as he places your clit between his thumb and index finger, giving you a particularly harsh rub followed by a pinch.
You are catapulted over the edge. Your vision goes white, your entire sweat-coated body twitching on his desk from the intensity of the orgasm. It only amplifies as you feel Seungcheol spill inside you, his warm release filling you up while float as high as the clouds, pure bliss overtaking your senses.
Once you have caught your breath and managed to gather your senses, you realize you lie on top of Seungcheol on the office floor, your bodies pressed together, riddled with exhaustion and sweat. For a moment, you say nothing, just feeling Seungcheol’s chest go up and down with every breath he takes.
“I can’t believe we just did that. In the office.” You whisper, almost like someone would hear you. Seungcheol shifts underneath you, helping you rest your head on his arm. “Me too but about time I acted on my desires.”
Shy but intrigued, you look at him, “Have you been wanting to do this for a while?”
“Fuck you on my desk?” He asks bluntly, making your face heat up. “God yes. You have no idea how long I have wanted to do that.”
A small burst of laughter parts from your lips, delighted at his confession. Snuggling closer to him, you start tracing your index finger aimlessly over his chest. “We are going to be a nightmare for HR.”
“Fuck them. I am the CEO.”
His response makes you smile. “You are serious about this, aren’t you?” Seungcheol’s hand reaches out to cup your cheek, tilting your face upwards to look at him. “If you still have any doubts in your heart, you need to let them go because I am dead serious. You are mine.”
His words reignite the fire in your belly. And the way your lipstick marks are branded all over his face does not quite help either. Still, you decide on teasing him with a pout, “Was that supposed to be a confession? At least buy me some flow—”
You are cut off with another ruthless kiss. His tongue passionately makes its way into your mouth, meeting yours that is equally wanton. You claw at his chest, a soft moan escaping your lips as you feel him growing hard again.
“Fuck,” he almost yanks himself free from your lips. “Let me get you home before we start round two here.” Your delighted laughter rings in the air as the two of you get dressed.
Next morning, when you wake up in Seungcheol’s bed, a bouquet of a hundred roses sits at the foot of the bed, with a note saying:
Can I be your boyfriend?
For a bonus epilogue, click here! This work will also be cross-posted on my AO3.
a/n: this was supposed to be out like a month ago but life got in the way, I suppose. been feeling quite shitty these days hence I haven't been writing much but I have started on this wonwoo fic that is inspired by Perfect Crown (the prime minister's character basically) so let's see where we can go with that. thank you for reading till the end and as always, your reblog, comments and feedback are very very appreciated!
synopsis ➠ you have a crush on your boss and he knows it. he just does not care. until, he starts behaving awfully lot like someone who cares—or maybe you are reading too much into it.
genre ➠ office romance, unrequited love, smut.
word count ➠ 5.7k
warnings ➠ pining, low-key asshole cheol, flirty jeonghan who's lowkey a cupid, unequal power dynamics ig, jealousy, cursing, reader does smth pretty embarrassing, lowkey unrequited love, unprotected sex, office sex, tiny bit of sir kink, female oral, hickeys, multiple orgasms, a lot of kissing, creampie, HR would go crazy if they knew what these two were doing in the office.
“Can I leave early today?” You stand in front of your boss’s desk, sweaty hands clasped in front of you, heartbeat thudding in your ears. Seungcheol has been in a bad mood for a few days now — with the factory relocation and all, which has made his usual grumpy self even grumpier.
“Why?” He drops the file you just brought in with a thud on his desk. Leaning back on his chair, he stares at you with a pointed gaze, like a prison officer looking at an inmate.
“Uhm…I actually have a date…” You murmur. Still impassive, he keeps boring holes into your face with his eyes as you grow uncomfortable.
“Date, huh?”
“Yes.”
He rubs his index finger thoughtfully over his chin before saying, “Go ahead. Take the afternoon off.”
Whew. “Thank you, sir.”
“I hope you won’t go on your date dressed like that.”
What?
You pause, thinking you misheard, and blink at him, who is now looking at his computer screen like he did not just make that snide remark. You look down at your clothes — baby blue silk blouse and a cream skirt — this is not a bad outfit. Not that you were going to go on your date like this anyway. You asked to leave early so that you could go home and freshen up.
Biting your cheek, you hold back any retort. Instead, you decide to overlook his petulance and offer him a smile as you step back. “I will see you on Monday, sir.”
He does not respond and you march out of his office.
—
The man in front of you — Eric — is underwhelming. You already forgot his last name.
he is definitely not worth you going home early to take a full body shower, shave and put on makeup and a nice dress. One hour into the date at the Italian restaurant, he keeps on talking about some start-up he and his buddies are working on, not bothering to ask you a single question.
As you play with the cherry tomatoes on your plate, occasionally nodding as a pretence of listening, your mind starts to wander. And like most times, they drift to the thought of Choi Seungcheol, your boss.
You have had a crush on him for a few years now. The story is an embarrassing one but you have come to own it over time. Five years ago, when you first joined this company as a junior sales executive, he was the COO. He made a good name for himself and the previous chairman loved him, so it was almost an open secret that he would be the next one to take over. He was the definition of tall, dark, and handsome, with a side of sharp intellect and unapologetic bluntness, gaining everyone's admiration if not support.
As expected, once the ex chairman resigned two years later, Seungcheol became the CEO. Right away, he needed a secretary and he wanted someone within the company who already knew the ropes. Among the five applicants, you got the job, and right there, your future was decided — working in close quarters with Choi Seungcheol, the handsome, brooding man whom you looked up to immensely. And somewhere between you switching roles and becoming his right hand person, you fell for him. Hard.
And it was supposed to be a secret. A harmless little crush. Until that one mistake drunk you made.
You had sent your coworker Minji — who is also one of your best friends since college — a text one night after a team dinner, fangirling about your boss in the most brazen way. The next morning, you woke up to see that you, in fact, did not send the text to Minji but the group chat you were in with all the sales team members. Words spread like wildfire, and on Monday, when you showed up at work (while contemplating on what excuse to make up and quit this job and leave this city; possibly the country) word had already reached Seungcheol. Once in his office, he asked you only two questions. Was it true? You nodded yes. Were your feelings going to affect your work? You vehemently shook your head no. As unbothered as ever, he signed some files, handed them back to you and said that all was good and he would overlook this fumble.
And so, since then, everyone in the office knows you have heart eyes for your boss. And over time, you have gotten good at acting casual about it. Except, you know, there is nothing casual about it. It has become a disease, the way you yearn for that man, and it was high time you decided to get out of that cycle of torment.
Which is why you are on this date.
And it isn’t really going well.
Eric is still, somehow, talking about his start-up. With a tight-lipped smile, you interrupt him as your patience stretches thin, “Shall we order dessert?”
—
It is drizzling now.
Outside the restaurant, you stand and wait for your Uber, which seems to be malfunctioning. For the past ten minutes, it has been looking for a driver, but to no avail.
Eric left a while ago, parting with decency once you said you were not sure this would go anywhere. He agreed, saying he was too focused on his business right now anyway. So, that was that.
As you stand and watch the rain, contemplating your life so far, a familiar voice calls your name. “Secretary ___?” You turn around to see Yoon Jeonghan, one of Seungcheol’s closest friends and a big name in the business world. You have worked with him a lot on various projects over the past few years and he has almost become your friend as much as he is Seungcheol’s — especially due to his easygoing behavior and charming humour. He is the exact opposite of Seunghceol in terms of personality and attitude, and you sometimes wonder how they are such good friends.
“Good evening, Mr. Yoon.” You smile.
“See, I thought I saw you earlier when I came in.” He says, stepping out of the restaurant and standing next to you. “Were you not here with someone else?”
You nod.
“Date?”
Another nod with an awkward smile.
“Let me guess, it did not go well.”
“Not really.”
He chuckles. “Well, it is good to see you trying.” He sends a playful look your way. “As I have always been saying, you are too good for Seungcheol. I can get past you being his secretary, but his girlfriend? Nah, that guy isn’t worthy of you.”
Yeah, even Jeonghan knows about your crush on his friend. Probably everyone in this field does.
“I am sure Seungcheol would not like hearing you badmouth him.” You tease.
Jeonghan sends a dramatic look of offence your way. “Badmouth? I am stating the facts, ___. And he would agree with me.”
A black Mercedes pulls up in front of you, the driver stepping out to hold the back door open and Jeonghan extends a hand, gesturing you to get in.
“What? Oh no, I couldn’t possibly trouble you.” You refuse politely.
“No trouble, ___. Get in. You are not going to find a ride anytime soon.”
You bite your lip, hesitating for a second. “Thank you, Mr. Yoon.”
“When are you going to stop calling me that? I told you, Jeonghan is fine.”
Maybe it is the wine in your blood that enables you to say, “Alright, thank you for the ride, Jeonghan.”
He smiles, closing the door behind you.
—
“How was the date?” Seungcheol asks without sparing a look at you as you set down his morning coffee on his desk while he flips through the pages of a report.
You pause. “It was…okay.”
His eyes stray from the documents briefly, taking a quick look at your face before returning to the report. “Seems it was unworthy of the afternoon you took off.”
You look around his office helplessly, uncomfortable at his sudden questioning. It seems like he is picking on you on purpose. You decide it will be better to divert the conversation, “I met Jeonghan at the restaurant.” You cringe at how you accidentally refer to his friend by his first name.
Your words finally make your boss drop his work and regard you with full attention. “Jeonghan?”
“Erm, Mr. Yoon, I mean.” You avoid his eyes. “He was kind enough to offer me a ride home, since it was raining and all.” You need to stop blabbering. Seungcheol stares at you silently for too long a moment, his intense eyes focused on you as if he is decoding something.
“I see.” He murmurs after a while.
A beat of silence.
“Well then, I will prepare for the meeting.” You awkwardly bow while stepping back, eager to rid yourself of the growing tension in the air. With his usual expressionless face, Seungcheol’s eyes follow you until you are out the door.
—
The meeting today is, in fact, with Jeonghan. This weekend, his gallery is holding an art exhibition, sponsored by Seungcheol’s company, with him as the keynote speaker. Today’s meeting is to cross-check if everything is in place and for last-minute adjustments.
“Where is my dear friend?” Jeonghan asks as he takes a seat in the meeting room. You take a seat on the opposite side of the table while a junior employee distributes the printouts across the table.
“He will be here soon, Mr. Yoon. He told me to go ahead and start the meeting.” You smile. Jeonghan drums his fingers on the desk. “I thought we agreed you’d call me Jeonghan.”
You pause, looking around, briefly meeting the eyes of Jeonghan’s secretary as well as the employee arranging the desk. “At work it may not be the most appropriate.” You explain.
He sighs dramatically. “You know, sometimes, I feel like you are becoming quite like Seungcheol.”
You look at him, wide eyed. “My god, what do you mean?”
He throws his head back and laughs, “The idea is distressing, no?”
“Your face is distressing.” A voice says quietly but unamusedly and you turn back to see Seungcheol stepping into the meeting room, with his usual air of boredom. Taking the seat next to you, he murmurs, “Why don’t you stop flirting with my secretary and optimize the work hours?”
“Someone is extra grumpy today.” Jeonghan teases with a knowing grin. Ignoring him, Seungcheol says to the junior employee, “Mina, can you pull up the slides?”
The rest of the meeting is productive as the four of you finalize all the details and map out the entire event. As the discussion rolls to an end, and your boss is getting up from his seat, Jeonghan says, “___, I would like to have you as a translator for the exhibition day.”
Surprised, you blink at him. Next to you, Seungcheol, who just got up from his chair, stills. Jeonghan continues, “You know, there will be a lot of French guests and I would love it if you were my translator. I’ll pay you for your time, of course.”
“Just hire a translator,” Seungcheol says dryly.
“Oh come on,” Jeonghan rolls his eyes. “Don’t be such a baby. ___ has helped us out with translations before. I need someone I am familiar with and someone who is smart and charming.” He turns to you. “You have no problem with it, right?”
“Uh,” you glance at your boss, who is staring at his friend with narrowed eyes. “No, I don’t mind.” You are supposed to be there anyway, as a representative on Sungcheol’s end. So getting paid separately to be there does not hurt. Besides, you have always loved meeting new people.
“It is settled then,” Jeonghan smiles, clasping his hands. “I promise to return her to you, Cheollie. Stop glaring at me like that.”
“Whatever,” your boss murmurs and marches out of the room, shutting the door behind him with a loud thud. You cringe, before looking at Jeonghan, “I’m sorry. I have no idea why he has been behaving weirdly for the past few days.”
A mysterious smile kisses his lips, “I think I know why.”
“Huh?”
“Never mind.” He turns to his secretary, “Could you please email the contacts of the French guests to ___.”
—
The exhibition starts at 2 pm, but you arrive at Jeonghan’s gallery by 1 pm. Jeonghan’s secretary, Chan, gives you the tour, showing you around the space and the paintings being exhibited while his boss finishes a meeting. Just before the exhibition is about to start, Jeonghan finds you.
“Hey, ___. Sorry, my meeting took longer than expected.”
You smile. “No trouble. Chan was a very helpful guide.”
“That’s good to hear.” He replies before glancing down the length of your body. “You look stunning, by the way.”
Flattered, you glance down at the length of your baby pink dress before giving him a smile. “Thank you. You look great as well.”
He fixes the lapels of his maroon suit with a dramatic gesture. “Thanks, this is a custom piece from Italy. By the way, when is your boss going to grace us with his presence? He does know that he has to be here by 4 for his speech, right?”
“He said he would be here in time.” You give Jeonghan a tight smile. “He had a few meetings in the morning.”
“And let me guess, he is brooding.”
“Yeah, the warehouse shift has been a challenge.”
“Mhm, I think that’s not all.”
“What?” You blink. Before he can reply, Chan calls his name. With a reassuring smile and a soft squeeze on your shoulder, Jeonghan takes his leave.
Thus starts the event. You greet the guests and show them around the gallery, chatting and socializing all the way through while keeping an eye out to make sure everything is going as planned. Despite your worries, Seungcheol shows up on time — 15 minutes before his speech. After the viewing, the crowd moves to the auditorium for the panel discussion, where Seungcheol delivers his speech, along with a few other guests. You have some food, observe the scene, and help the staff with anything they need before finally, the exhibition officially rolls to an end.
To your surprise, Seungcheol stayed the entire time. You had expected him to march out the moment he was done with his formalities but he stayed the entire length of the artist’s discussion panel, hovering around, never quite coming to you or addressing you, puzzling you.
Why was he acting like a stranger?
Just as you are contemplating his behavior with a glass of champagne in your hand, Jeonghan appears. “Thank you so much for your help today, ___. You were amazing.”
You grin. “You are too kind. And it was my pleasure. This is a really good exhibition.”
“Thank you, I am glad you enjoyed it.” He winks playfully. A cameraman walks past you and Jeonghan flags him, asking for a photo of the two of you. You pose next to him, flashing a big smile for the camera. Just as you are recovering from the blinding flash, you see Seungcheol heading towards you.
He is dressed in a dark grey three-piece suit today and all afternoon, you have tried your best not to let yourself drool over him. It does not work right now, as with the jacket off, you can see the muscles of his bicep bulge underneath the white shirt and momentarily, your mind blanks.
“Ugh, there comes Mister Sourpants.” Jeonghan murmurs. Seungcheol comes to a halt in front of you, his eyes briefly meeting yours before he looks at his friend. “Great work on not botching the show.” He says unimpressively. Jeonghan laughs, slinging an arm over his shoulder, “You underestimate me, my friend. But thanks for showing up and not badmouthing me on stage. I’m surprised you’re still here.”
“I was looking at the pictures.” Your boss responds indifferently.
“Well, since you are all still here, let's go grab dinner together.” Jeoghan offers.
“No thanks, I am going back to the office.” Seungcheol removes his friend’s arm from his shoulder. When Jeonghan looks at you expectantly, you say, “I would love to, but not today. I have to go to the office too, as I left my charger. My battery is about to die. I have some work to finish up as well.”
Jeonghan rolls his eyes, “Ever the workaholics. Come on, people, work hours are over!”
“Let’s have dinner on Friday night, perhaps?” You look at Seungcheol for confirmation but he seems busy with his phone, dialling his driver’s number. As he presses the phone against his ear, you notice something and your hands instinctively reach out to fix his crooked tie, before smoothening the hem of his vest. You have done it multiple times before — for meetings and press conferences — as Seungcheol’s tie always seems to rest in a crooked manner.
As you finish fixing it and he hangs up the call, your eyes lock with his and a shiver runs down your spine. In a split second, the air seems to be full of tension, thick enough to cut through with a knife and hot enough to ignite a fire in your belly.
Fuck. You look away and retract your hands, trying to act as normal as possible. “Your tie was crooked.” You murmur.
“Thanks.” Seungcheol’s voice is quiet.
Jeonghan looks at the two of you with a growing smile of mischief. “Well,” he looks pointedly between the two of you, clasping his hands, “I will let you kids get back to work for today. Thanks again for your help, ___.”
“My pleasure.” You smile, suddenly embarrassed to meet his eyes. With a harsh pat on the back and a suggestive wiggle of his brows, Jenghan says goodbye to Seungcheol, grinning like a Cheshire cat. With his friend gone, Seungcheol wastes no time, marching towards the exit, “Let us get going.”
—
It is suffocating inside the car.
Even with the AC on full blast, it feels like a thousand degrees in here with zero ventilation. The earlier tense moment between the two of you seems to linger, now even more amplified than before in this enclosed space.
You shift uncomfortably in your seat, trying to think of something to talk about but coming up with nothing. You don’t trust yourself to speak right now, so you try your very best to look out the window and pretend there is no one sitting next to you. After a while, when doing that gets tough, you pull out your iPad and start sorting through your work.
Just then, Seungcheol speaks. “You seem to have gotten really close with Jeonghan.”
Oh boy. There seems to be an edge to his voice and you are unsure how to reply or what to reply. An awkward laugh floats past your lips. “I mean, he is easy to get along with, you know.”
“Mhmm.” Even the Sahara is not as dry as his tone.
You glance at him, waiting to hear something else. For a brief second, you let yourself be distracted by his gorgeous face — the couple of stray strands of hair on his forehead calling your name, making your hand itch to put them back in place.
Though if it were up to you, you would mess up his hair. And his clothes. And his back—
“From now on, don’t help him out.” He turns to look at you. “He might be my friend but business is still business and you are my employee.”
“Uh, okay.” You whisper. Your boss looks back out the window, and you interpret that as the conversation being over. You return to your work, but for some reason, the numbers and the letters on screen make no sense to you.
A moment later, you whisper, “Did I do something to upset you?”
Seungcheol turns his head slowly to regard you with a quizzical look. A sudden rush of emotions swirls within you, and for a scary moment, you think you might cry. With a deep, calming breath, you meet his eyes and try to flash your usual professional smile. “If you are displeased with my work or anything I have done, I hope you will let me know.”
Seungcheol is mute and slightly wide-eyed, almost like he is scared of you. The silence stretches on like chewing gum, and he looks like he is about to say something, but the car halts, and you waste no time getting out.
A quiet and suffocating elevator ride later, you step into your floor, with Seungcheol leading the way. The office is now empty and quiet, save for your footsteps, which halt in front of your desk as you set your things down. Seungcheol continues his way towards his personal office, but stops at his door. Turning his head back, he says, “Can you come into my office for a second?” His voice is not commanding, and he almost sounds unsure.
Confused, you stare at him for a second as he stands at his door, eyes fixed on you expectantly. Quickly plugging your phone in, you walk towards the double doors, stepping through the one he was holding open.
The second you are inside, Seungcheol locks the door shut behind you. You only get a second to process that you are pressed against the door with Seungcheol’s body dangerously close to yours and keeping you trapped, before a hand cups your jaw and tilts your head up.
“I can’t pretend anymore.” He whispers so low, you almost miss it.
“What?” You croak, your heart galloping like a racehorse, your knees are suddenly weak. What the fuck is going on? Are you dreaming?
His eyes meet yours before he utters very quietly, “I can’t pretend that I don’t care for you. I care much, much more than a boss should care for his secretary.”
“I…I don’t…” You mumble, heart racing in your ribcage, brain functioning on overdrive to make sense of what is happening.
“I am going to kiss you now, ___.” He warns. Then, Seungcheol is kissing you.
Warm, soft and delightful, you forget to breathe for a long second, your heart swooning, ready to burst. Almost unconsciously, you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him close, molding your body with his. His large arms wrap around your back and your waist, pressing you flush against him, and you swear it is the best feeling in the world.
When you part, Seungcheol looks at you with glistening eyes, warm like a summer afternoon and for a second, you get lost in them. The kiss lingers on your lips, making you bite your lower lip. Like yours, your boss’s lips too, are swollen and just as he leans his face towards you again, you stop him, pressing your hands flat on his chest.
“Wait. Stop.” You say, voice too loud amongst the stillness.
Seungcheol pauses, eyes flashing with worry.
“Are you drunk, Mr. Choi?”
“What?”
“This cannot happen if you are drunk.” You take a deep, shuddering breath. “I… I cannot be your plaything. You know very well that I like you — I have been for a while and I’m trying to make sense of why you are suddenly doing this. I…I cannot—” you are suddenly choked with emotion, your gaze falling on the floor.
“___.” He says your name with a tenderness unlike ever before. “Look at me.”
You cannot bring yourself to, fighting to keep the tears at bay. With a finger below your chin, he tilts your face up to meet his eyes. “I am not playing with you. I am doing what I should have done long ago.”
“What?”
“I like you, ___. A lot. And I have liked you for a while. I just did not realize it,” He sighs, taking a step back and running a hand through his hair. “Well, I actually did…I think. I just did not want to give in to it, I suppose, with the dynamic we have and all.” His pauses, looking back at you. “I know this is pathetic, especially with the way I have been behaving for the past few weeks, but I cannot pretend anymore. I hate seeing you go on those dates. I hate seeing you be friendly with Jeonghan. I want to do those things with you. I want to be with you.”
Breathless, you gape at him, still struggling to believe that all of this is real.
Holy shit. Holy fucking shit.
“I took you for granted.” He continues. “I got so used to your presence around me that I thought I would have you forever, forgetting that you could eventually move and find someone else, not only getting over me but leaving this job altogether.”
“So what, this is a ploy to keep me working here forever?” An awkward laugh comes from your mouth. Seungcheol keeps looking at you with a somber expression, a quiet storm brewing in his eyes.
“I mean it, ___. I want you. I want you to be mine, and I want to be yours.” He says quietly.
Wow. You must have died and gone to heaven.
Realizing that there is not much left to say, you inhale a steady breath, remove the gap between the two of you with a few quick steps, wrap your arms around his neck and pull him in for a kiss. Seungcheol wastes no time, wrapping his arms around you, meeting your lips with an equal fervor and the passion of a starving man. Lips connected, bodies in embrace, he guides you through the office, stopping in front of his desk and pushing you against it.
Catching his breath, he swiftly takes off his jacket and your fingers reach out to undo the buttons of his vest, shaking with hazy desire. He helps in taking off your dress, undoing the ribbon on the back and pulling down the zipper before tugging it down with one strong move. Left only in your bra and panties — which do not match by the way — you cringe in embarrassment while trying to combat the sheer amount of desire flowing through your veins. Seungcheol, unbothered, gets down on his knees, face to face with your pussy.
“Oh my god, what are you doing?” You squeak. The response is him taking off your panties with a tug so harsh that the lace on the edges rips.
“Seungcheol!”
“That’s right. That’s how you call me from now on. And that is the only word I want to hear from you now.” He commands with a burning fire in his eyes as he grabs your thighs, putting them over his shoulder and then gets to work.
Shit.
His tongue laps at your core and the first touch has you falling back on his desk, pushing down the stack of files and stationery on the floor. His tongue works at your core mercilessly, switching between playing with your folds and sucking your clit while you writhe in his grasp that is iron clad. With each flick of his tongue, your moans rise, and then he inserts one finger, which very quickly turns into two, and you think might die from the pleasure.
"Fuck!" You cry, body twisting and turning on his desk, desperate to get away from his touch but wanting it simultaneously. It is maddening —whatever that is happening, and you feel your high building, too quick, too strong.
"I cannot...Seungcheol...I think— I think—"
His response is muffled and you can only hope its a positive one as you feel the tremors run through your body, sitting right at the edge of an orgasm. His tongue moves like he has known your body for years, and with one strong flick on your clit, you go off, falling head first into an abyss of pleasure, all your nerves on fire.
As you lie flat on his desk, body still trembling from the orgasm, Seungcheol smothers kisses on your belly, slowly going up towards your chest and then your neck, biting and sucking your skin however he likes. You have bearely had a couple of minutes to recover, but heat starts pooling in your belly all over again, your hands coming up to wrap themselves around him, soft sighs parting from your lips as he kisses your jawbone, soft and sweet.
“You are so beautiful,” he whispers in your ears. With a thousand butterflies fluttering in your stomach, you turn your head to capture his lips in a kiss.
Then, he stands up, discards all the remaining clothes from his body and makes himself comfortable between your legs. You prop yourself on your elbows, taking a good look at his chiseled body and his flushed cock, which stands tall and angry, pointing at you.
“It’s rude to stare, you know.” Your boss hums, stroking his length, before hooking an arm underneath your thigh and yanking you closer to the edge of the table, your pussy a mere inch or so away from his cock.
“I am so sorry, sir,” you smile suggestively and Seunghcheol exhales a rough breath.
“You better keep screaming that when I pound this pussy.” His eyes shine with determination. You bite your lip, giving him a cheeky smile and watch as he inches his cock near your pussy. You take in a deep breath as he pushes his cock inside you, tantalizingly slowly, making sure you feel every inch and your nerves are on fire. With a moan, you fall back on the table, eyes falling shut with the way he fills you up over and over again.
“Fuck,” Seungcheol hisses, his voice throaty as he goes all the way in, and you swear you feel him in your stomach. With a loud cry, you cling onto his body, nails digging into his back and your toes curling at each thrust. He builds a pace, pushing in and out of you in steady movements. Your brain feels like mush as you fail to utter anything, your mouth simply hanging open to let out breathy pants as you close your eyes and feel every ridge of his cock move in and out of you.
“Fuck, you feel so good,” he mutters underneath his breath, eyes set on you so intensely, you feel a shiver run down your back. “Seungcheol…” his name parts from your lips like a prayer. Another mutter of curse from him before he stops his movements and yanks your ass upwards. The new angle makes his length curve inside you and you start seeing stars.
“Oh my god,” you hiss, eyes squeezed shut. The back of your thighs rests over Seungcheol’s, your legs wrapped around his waist, and your hands clutching his arms as he starts to pick up pace. With each thrust, the force increases, the tip of his cock hitting your most sensitive spot, low groans falling from his lips to match your breathy moans.
“Shit...I want to cum...please,” your whisper mindlessly, the words scattered between whines of pleasure. “You want to come?” He taunts, leaning closer to look at your face. “Beg me. Say sir, please let me cum.”
Oh god.
The need to find your release only intensifies at his words. You are so close you can almost taste the blissful release, and as you utter the next words, you wonder what other hidden kinks you have. “Sir, please let me come.” You beg, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him closer to you. The man squeezes his eyes shut and lets out a low groan, his pace increasing.
“Fuck, you’re going to be the death of me,’’ he hisses in your ears, his warm breath tickling your skin.
“Please, sir.” You whisper, doe-eyed and drunk on his cock. “Oh baby,” he murmurs, before leaning in to seize your lips in a bruising kiss. With one hand, he keeps a firm hold on your jaw while the other reaches below to touch your clit as he wastes no time rubbing the sensitive bundle of nerves with the pads of his finger, all the while continuing to thrust inside you earnestly.
“Seungcheol!” With a loud cry you part your lips from his, your entire body jolting at his touch.
Your reaction makes him smirk as he chases his own high, not far away from finishing inside you. Standing up, he slows he pace ever so slightly, making sure to put all his body weight in each thrust as he places your clit between his thumb and index finger, giving you a particularly harsh rub followed by a pinch.
You are catapulted over the edge. Your vision goes white, your entire sweat-coated body twitching on his desk from the intensity of the orgasm. It only amplifies as you feel Seungcheol spill inside you, his warm release filling you up while float as high as the clouds, pure bliss overtaking your senses.
Once you have caught your breath and managed to gather your senses, you realize you lie on top of Seungcheol on the office floor, your bodies pressed together, riddled with exhaustion and sweat. For a moment, you say nothing, just feeling Seungcheol’s chest go up and down with every breath he takes.
“I can’t believe we just did that. In the office.” You whisper, almost like someone would hear you. Seungcheol shifts underneath you, helping you rest your head on his arm. “Me too but about time I acted on my desires.”
Shy but intrigued, you look at him, “Have you been wanting to do this for a while?”
“Fuck you on my desk?” He asks bluntly, making your face heat up. “God yes. You have no idea how long I have wanted to do that.”
A small burst of laughter parts from your lips, delighted at his confession. Snuggling closer to him, you start tracing your index finger aimlessly over his chest. “We are going to be a nightmare for HR.”
“Fuck them. I am the CEO.”
His response makes you smile. “You are serious about this, aren’t you?” Seungcheol’s hand reaches out to cup your cheek, tilting your face upwards to look at him. “If you still have any doubts in your heart, you need to let them go because I am dead serious. You are mine.”
His words reignite the fire in your belly. And the way your lipstick marks are branded all over his face does not quite help either. Still, you decide on teasing him with a pout, “Was that supposed to be a confession? At least buy me some flow—”
You are cut off with another ruthless kiss. His tongue passionately makes its way into your mouth, meeting yours that is equally wanton. You claw at his chest, a soft moan escaping your lips as you feel him growing hard again.
“Fuck,” he almost yanks himself free from your lips. “Let me get you home before we start round two here.” Your delighted laughter rings in the air as the two of you get dressed.
Next morning, when you wake up in Seungcheol’s bed, a bouquet of a hundred roses sits at the foot of the bed, with a note saying:
Can I be your boyfriend?
For a bonus epilogue, click here! This work will also be cross-posted on my AO3.
a/n: this was supposed to be out like a month ago but life got in the way, I suppose. been feeling quite shitty these days hence I haven't been writing much but I have started on this wonwoo fic that is inspired by Perfect Crown (the prime minister's character basically) so let's see where we can go with that. thank you for reading till the end and as always, your reblog, comments and feedback are very very appreciated!
synopsis ➠ you have a crush on your boss and he knows it. he just does not care. until, he starts behaving awfully lot like someone who cares—or maybe you are reading too much into it.
genre ➠ office romance, unrequited love, smut.
word count ➠ 5.7k
warnings ➠ pining, low-key asshole cheol, flirty jeonghan who's lowkey a cupid, unequal power dynamics ig, jealousy, cursing, reader does smth pretty embarrassing, lowkey unrequited love, unprotected sex, office sex, tiny bit of sir kink, female oral, hickeys, multiple orgasms, a lot of kissing, creampie, HR would go crazy if they knew what these two were doing in the office.
“Can I leave early today?” You stand in front of your boss’s desk, sweaty hands clasped in front of you, heartbeat thudding in your ears. Seungcheol has been in a bad mood for a few days now — with the factory relocation and all, which has made his usual grumpy self even grumpier.
“Why?” He drops the file you just brought in with a thud on his desk. Leaning back on his chair, he stares at you with a pointed gaze, like a prison officer looking at an inmate.
“Uhm…I actually have a date…” You murmur. Still impassive, he keeps boring holes into your face with his eyes as you grow uncomfortable.
“Date, huh?”
“Yes.”
He rubs his index finger thoughtfully over his chin before saying, “Go ahead. Take the afternoon off.”
Whew. “Thank you, sir.”
“I hope you won’t go on your date dressed like that.”
What?
You pause, thinking you misheard, and blink at him, who is now looking at his computer screen like he did not just make that snide remark. You look down at your clothes — baby blue silk blouse and a cream skirt — this is not a bad outfit. Not that you were going to go on your date like this anyway. You asked to leave early so that you could go home and freshen up.
Biting your cheek, you hold back any retort. Instead, you decide to overlook his petulance and offer him a smile as you step back. “I will see you on Monday, sir.”
He does not respond and you march out of his office.
—
The man in front of you — Eric — is underwhelming. You already forgot his last name.
he is definitely not worth you going home early to take a full body shower, shave and put on makeup and a nice dress. One hour into the date at the Italian restaurant, he keeps on talking about some start-up he and his buddies are working on, not bothering to ask you a single question.
As you play with the cherry tomatoes on your plate, occasionally nodding as a pretence of listening, your mind starts to wander. And like most times, they drift to the thought of Choi Seungcheol, your boss.
You have had a crush on him for a few years now. The story is an embarrassing one but you have come to own it over time. Five years ago, when you first joined this company as a junior sales executive, he was the COO. He made a good name for himself and the previous chairman loved him, so it was almost an open secret that he would be the next one to take over. He was the definition of tall, dark, and handsome, with a side of sharp intellect and unapologetic bluntness, gaining everyone's admiration if not support.
As expected, once the ex chairman resigned two years later, Seungcheol became the CEO. Right away, he needed a secretary and he wanted someone within the company who already knew the ropes. Among the five applicants, you got the job, and right there, your future was decided — working in close quarters with Choi Seungcheol, the handsome, brooding man whom you looked up to immensely. And somewhere between you switching roles and becoming his right hand person, you fell for him. Hard.
And it was supposed to be a secret. A harmless little crush. Until that one mistake drunk you made.
You had sent your coworker Minji — who is also one of your best friends since college — a text one night after a team dinner, fangirling about your boss in the most brazen way. The next morning, you woke up to see that you, in fact, did not send the text to Minji but the group chat you were in with all the sales team members. Words spread like wildfire, and on Monday, when you showed up at work (while contemplating on what excuse to make up and quit this job and leave this city; possibly the country) word had already reached Seungcheol. Once in his office, he asked you only two questions. Was it true? You nodded yes. Were your feelings going to affect your work? You vehemently shook your head no. As unbothered as ever, he signed some files, handed them back to you and said that all was good and he would overlook this fumble.
And so, since then, everyone in the office knows you have heart eyes for your boss. And over time, you have gotten good at acting casual about it. Except, you know, there is nothing casual about it. It has become a disease, the way you yearn for that man, and it was high time you decided to get out of that cycle of torment.
Which is why you are on this date.
And it isn’t really going well.
Eric is still, somehow, talking about his start-up. With a tight-lipped smile, you interrupt him as your patience stretches thin, “Shall we order dessert?”
—
It is drizzling now.
Outside the restaurant, you stand and wait for your Uber, which seems to be malfunctioning. For the past ten minutes, it has been looking for a driver, but to no avail.
Eric left a while ago, parting with decency once you said you were not sure this would go anywhere. He agreed, saying he was too focused on his business right now anyway. So, that was that.
As you stand and watch the rain, contemplating your life so far, a familiar voice calls your name. “Secretary ___?” You turn around to see Yoon Jeonghan, one of Seungcheol’s closest friends and a big name in the business world. You have worked with him a lot on various projects over the past few years and he has almost become your friend as much as he is Seungcheol’s — especially due to his easygoing behavior and charming humour. He is the exact opposite of Seunghceol in terms of personality and attitude, and you sometimes wonder how they are such good friends.
“Good evening, Mr. Yoon.” You smile.
“See, I thought I saw you earlier when I came in.” He says, stepping out of the restaurant and standing next to you. “Were you not here with someone else?”
You nod.
“Date?”
Another nod with an awkward smile.
“Let me guess, it did not go well.”
“Not really.”
He chuckles. “Well, it is good to see you trying.” He sends a playful look your way. “As I have always been saying, you are too good for Seungcheol. I can get past you being his secretary, but his girlfriend? Nah, that guy isn’t worthy of you.”
Yeah, even Jeonghan knows about your crush on his friend. Probably everyone in this field does.
“I am sure Seungcheol would not like hearing you badmouth him.” You tease.
Jeonghan sends a dramatic look of offence your way. “Badmouth? I am stating the facts, ___. And he would agree with me.”
A black Mercedes pulls up in front of you, the driver stepping out to hold the back door open and Jeonghan extends a hand, gesturing you to get in.
“What? Oh no, I couldn’t possibly trouble you.” You refuse politely.
“No trouble, ___. Get in. You are not going to find a ride anytime soon.”
You bite your lip, hesitating for a second. “Thank you, Mr. Yoon.”
“When are you going to stop calling me that? I told you, Jeonghan is fine.”
Maybe it is the wine in your blood that enables you to say, “Alright, thank you for the ride, Jeonghan.”
He smiles, closing the door behind you.
—
“How was the date?” Seungcheol asks without sparing a look at you as you set down his morning coffee on his desk while he flips through the pages of a report.
You pause. “It was…okay.”
His eyes stray from the documents briefly, taking a quick look at your face before returning to the report. “Seems it was unworthy of the afternoon you took off.”
You look around his office helplessly, uncomfortable at his sudden questioning. It seems like he is picking on you on purpose. You decide it will be better to divert the conversation, “I met Jeonghan at the restaurant.” You cringe at how you accidentally refer to his friend by his first name.
Your words finally make your boss drop his work and regard you with full attention. “Jeonghan?”
“Erm, Mr. Yoon, I mean.” You avoid his eyes. “He was kind enough to offer me a ride home, since it was raining and all.” You need to stop blabbering. Seungcheol stares at you silently for too long a moment, his intense eyes focused on you as if he is decoding something.
“I see.” He murmurs after a while.
A beat of silence.
“Well then, I will prepare for the meeting.” You awkwardly bow while stepping back, eager to rid yourself of the growing tension in the air. With his usual expressionless face, Seungcheol’s eyes follow you until you are out the door.
—
The meeting today is, in fact, with Jeonghan. This weekend, his gallery is holding an art exhibition, sponsored by Seungcheol’s company, with him as the keynote speaker. Today’s meeting is to cross-check if everything is in place and for last-minute adjustments.
“Where is my dear friend?” Jeonghan asks as he takes a seat in the meeting room. You take a seat on the opposite side of the table while a junior employee distributes the printouts across the table.
“He will be here soon, Mr. Yoon. He told me to go ahead and start the meeting.” You smile. Jeonghan drums his fingers on the desk. “I thought we agreed you’d call me Jeonghan.”
You pause, looking around, briefly meeting the eyes of Jeonghan’s secretary as well as the employee arranging the desk. “At work it may not be the most appropriate.” You explain.
He sighs dramatically. “You know, sometimes, I feel like you are becoming quite like Seungcheol.”
You look at him, wide eyed. “My god, what do you mean?”
He throws his head back and laughs, “The idea is distressing, no?”
“Your face is distressing.” A voice says quietly but unamusedly and you turn back to see Seungcheol stepping into the meeting room, with his usual air of boredom. Taking the seat next to you, he murmurs, “Why don’t you stop flirting with my secretary and optimize the work hours?”
“Someone is extra grumpy today.” Jeonghan teases with a knowing grin. Ignoring him, Seungcheol says to the junior employee, “Mina, can you pull up the slides?”
The rest of the meeting is productive as the four of you finalize all the details and map out the entire event. As the discussion rolls to an end, and your boss is getting up from his seat, Jeonghan says, “___, I would like to have you as a translator for the exhibition day.”
Surprised, you blink at him. Next to you, Seungcheol, who just got up from his chair, stills. Jeonghan continues, “You know, there will be a lot of French guests and I would love it if you were my translator. I’ll pay you for your time, of course.”
“Just hire a translator,” Seungcheol says dryly.
“Oh come on,” Jeonghan rolls his eyes. “Don’t be such a baby. ___ has helped us out with translations before. I need someone I am familiar with and someone who is smart and charming.” He turns to you. “You have no problem with it, right?”
“Uh,” you glance at your boss, who is staring at his friend with narrowed eyes. “No, I don’t mind.” You are supposed to be there anyway, as a representative on Sungcheol’s end. So getting paid separately to be there does not hurt. Besides, you have always loved meeting new people.
“It is settled then,” Jeonghan smiles, clasping his hands. “I promise to return her to you, Cheollie. Stop glaring at me like that.”
“Whatever,” your boss murmurs and marches out of the room, shutting the door behind him with a loud thud. You cringe, before looking at Jeonghan, “I’m sorry. I have no idea why he has been behaving weirdly for the past few days.”
A mysterious smile kisses his lips, “I think I know why.”
“Huh?”
“Never mind.” He turns to his secretary, “Could you please email the contacts of the French guests to ___.”
—
The exhibition starts at 2 pm, but you arrive at Jeonghan’s gallery by 1 pm. Jeonghan’s secretary, Chan, gives you the tour, showing you around the space and the paintings being exhibited while his boss finishes a meeting. Just before the exhibition is about to start, Jeonghan finds you.
“Hey, ___. Sorry, my meeting took longer than expected.”
You smile. “No trouble. Chan was a very helpful guide.”
“That’s good to hear.” He replies before glancing down the length of your body. “You look stunning, by the way.”
Flattered, you glance down at the length of your baby pink dress before giving him a smile. “Thank you. You look great as well.”
He fixes the lapels of his maroon suit with a dramatic gesture. “Thanks, this is a custom piece from Italy. By the way, when is your boss going to grace us with his presence? He does know that he has to be here by 4 for his speech, right?”
“He said he would be here in time.” You give Jeonghan a tight smile. “He had a few meetings in the morning.”
“And let me guess, he is brooding.”
“Yeah, the warehouse shift has been a challenge.”
“Mhm, I think that’s not all.”
“What?” You blink. Before he can reply, Chan calls his name. With a reassuring smile and a soft squeeze on your shoulder, Jeonghan takes his leave.
Thus starts the event. You greet the guests and show them around the gallery, chatting and socializing all the way through while keeping an eye out to make sure everything is going as planned. Despite your worries, Seungcheol shows up on time — 15 minutes before his speech. After the viewing, the crowd moves to the auditorium for the panel discussion, where Seungcheol delivers his speech, along with a few other guests. You have some food, observe the scene, and help the staff with anything they need before finally, the exhibition officially rolls to an end.
To your surprise, Seungcheol stayed the entire time. You had expected him to march out the moment he was done with his formalities but he stayed the entire length of the artist’s discussion panel, hovering around, never quite coming to you or addressing you, puzzling you.
Why was he acting like a stranger?
Just as you are contemplating his behavior with a glass of champagne in your hand, Jeonghan appears. “Thank you so much for your help today, ___. You were amazing.”
You grin. “You are too kind. And it was my pleasure. This is a really good exhibition.”
“Thank you, I am glad you enjoyed it.” He winks playfully. A cameraman walks past you and Jeonghan flags him, asking for a photo of the two of you. You pose next to him, flashing a big smile for the camera. Just as you are recovering from the blinding flash, you see Seungcheol heading towards you.
He is dressed in a dark grey three-piece suit today and all afternoon, you have tried your best not to let yourself drool over him. It does not work right now, as with the jacket off, you can see the muscles of his bicep bulge underneath the white shirt and momentarily, your mind blanks.
“Ugh, there comes Mister Sourpants.” Jeonghan murmurs. Seungcheol comes to a halt in front of you, his eyes briefly meeting yours before he looks at his friend. “Great work on not botching the show.” He says unimpressively. Jeonghan laughs, slinging an arm over his shoulder, “You underestimate me, my friend. But thanks for showing up and not badmouthing me on stage. I’m surprised you’re still here.”
“I was looking at the pictures.” Your boss responds indifferently.
“Well, since you are all still here, let's go grab dinner together.” Jeoghan offers.
“No thanks, I am going back to the office.” Seungcheol removes his friend’s arm from his shoulder. When Jeonghan looks at you expectantly, you say, “I would love to, but not today. I have to go to the office too, as I left my charger. My battery is about to die. I have some work to finish up as well.”
Jeonghan rolls his eyes, “Ever the workaholics. Come on, people, work hours are over!”
“Let’s have dinner on Friday night, perhaps?” You look at Seungcheol for confirmation but he seems busy with his phone, dialling his driver’s number. As he presses the phone against his ear, you notice something and your hands instinctively reach out to fix his crooked tie, before smoothening the hem of his vest. You have done it multiple times before — for meetings and press conferences — as Seungcheol’s tie always seems to rest in a crooked manner.
As you finish fixing it and he hangs up the call, your eyes lock with his and a shiver runs down your spine. In a split second, the air seems to be full of tension, thick enough to cut through with a knife and hot enough to ignite a fire in your belly.
Fuck. You look away and retract your hands, trying to act as normal as possible. “Your tie was crooked.” You murmur.
“Thanks.” Seungcheol’s voice is quiet.
Jeonghan looks at the two of you with a growing smile of mischief. “Well,” he looks pointedly between the two of you, clasping his hands, “I will let you kids get back to work for today. Thanks again for your help, ___.”
“My pleasure.” You smile, suddenly embarrassed to meet his eyes. With a harsh pat on the back and a suggestive wiggle of his brows, Jenghan says goodbye to Seungcheol, grinning like a Cheshire cat. With his friend gone, Seungcheol wastes no time, marching towards the exit, “Let us get going.”
—
It is suffocating inside the car.
Even with the AC on full blast, it feels like a thousand degrees in here with zero ventilation. The earlier tense moment between the two of you seems to linger, now even more amplified than before in this enclosed space.
You shift uncomfortably in your seat, trying to think of something to talk about but coming up with nothing. You don’t trust yourself to speak right now, so you try your very best to look out the window and pretend there is no one sitting next to you. After a while, when doing that gets tough, you pull out your iPad and start sorting through your work.
Just then, Seungcheol speaks. “You seem to have gotten really close with Jeonghan.”
Oh boy. There seems to be an edge to his voice and you are unsure how to reply or what to reply. An awkward laugh floats past your lips. “I mean, he is easy to get along with, you know.”
“Mhmm.” Even the Sahara is not as dry as his tone.
You glance at him, waiting to hear something else. For a brief second, you let yourself be distracted by his gorgeous face — the couple of stray strands of hair on his forehead calling your name, making your hand itch to put them back in place.
Though if it were up to you, you would mess up his hair. And his clothes. And his back—
“From now on, don’t help him out.” He turns to look at you. “He might be my friend but business is still business and you are my employee.”
“Uh, okay.” You whisper. Your boss looks back out the window, and you interpret that as the conversation being over. You return to your work, but for some reason, the numbers and the letters on screen make no sense to you.
A moment later, you whisper, “Did I do something to upset you?”
Seungcheol turns his head slowly to regard you with a quizzical look. A sudden rush of emotions swirls within you, and for a scary moment, you think you might cry. With a deep, calming breath, you meet his eyes and try to flash your usual professional smile. “If you are displeased with my work or anything I have done, I hope you will let me know.”
Seungcheol is mute and slightly wide-eyed, almost like he is scared of you. The silence stretches on like chewing gum, and he looks like he is about to say something, but the car halts, and you waste no time getting out.
A quiet and suffocating elevator ride later, you step into your floor, with Seungcheol leading the way. The office is now empty and quiet, save for your footsteps, which halt in front of your desk as you set your things down. Seungcheol continues his way towards his personal office, but stops at his door. Turning his head back, he says, “Can you come into my office for a second?” His voice is not commanding, and he almost sounds unsure.
Confused, you stare at him for a second as he stands at his door, eyes fixed on you expectantly. Quickly plugging your phone in, you walk towards the double doors, stepping through the one he was holding open.
The second you are inside, Seungcheol locks the door shut behind you. You only get a second to process that you are pressed against the door with Seungcheol’s body dangerously close to yours and keeping you trapped, before a hand cups your jaw and tilts your head up.
“I can’t pretend anymore.” He whispers so low, you almost miss it.
“What?” You croak, your heart galloping like a racehorse, your knees are suddenly weak. What the fuck is going on? Are you dreaming?
His eyes meet yours before he utters very quietly, “I can’t pretend that I don’t care for you. I care much, much more than a boss should care for his secretary.”
“I…I don’t…” You mumble, heart racing in your ribcage, brain functioning on overdrive to make sense of what is happening.
“I am going to kiss you now, ___.” He warns. Then, Seungcheol is kissing you.
Warm, soft and delightful, you forget to breathe for a long second, your heart swooning, ready to burst. Almost unconsciously, you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him close, molding your body with his. His large arms wrap around your back and your waist, pressing you flush against him, and you swear it is the best feeling in the world.
When you part, Seungcheol looks at you with glistening eyes, warm like a summer afternoon and for a second, you get lost in them. The kiss lingers on your lips, making you bite your lower lip. Like yours, your boss’s lips too, are swollen and just as he leans his face towards you again, you stop him, pressing your hands flat on his chest.
“Wait. Stop.” You say, voice too loud amongst the stillness.
Seungcheol pauses, eyes flashing with worry.
“Are you drunk, Mr. Choi?”
“What?”
“This cannot happen if you are drunk.” You take a deep, shuddering breath. “I… I cannot be your plaything. You know very well that I like you — I have been for a while and I’m trying to make sense of why you are suddenly doing this. I…I cannot—” you are suddenly choked with emotion, your gaze falling on the floor.
“___.” He says your name with a tenderness unlike ever before. “Look at me.”
You cannot bring yourself to, fighting to keep the tears at bay. With a finger below your chin, he tilts your face up to meet his eyes. “I am not playing with you. I am doing what I should have done long ago.”
“What?”
“I like you, ___. A lot. And I have liked you for a while. I just did not realize it,” He sighs, taking a step back and running a hand through his hair. “Well, I actually did…I think. I just did not want to give in to it, I suppose, with the dynamic we have and all.” His pauses, looking back at you. “I know this is pathetic, especially with the way I have been behaving for the past few weeks, but I cannot pretend anymore. I hate seeing you go on those dates. I hate seeing you be friendly with Jeonghan. I want to do those things with you. I want to be with you.”
Breathless, you gape at him, still struggling to believe that all of this is real.
Holy shit. Holy fucking shit.
“I took you for granted.” He continues. “I got so used to your presence around me that I thought I would have you forever, forgetting that you could eventually move and find someone else, not only getting over me but leaving this job altogether.”
“So what, this is a ploy to keep me working here forever?” An awkward laugh comes from your mouth. Seungcheol keeps looking at you with a somber expression, a quiet storm brewing in his eyes.
“I mean it, ___. I want you. I want you to be mine, and I want to be yours.” He says quietly.
Wow. You must have died and gone to heaven.
Realizing that there is not much left to say, you inhale a steady breath, remove the gap between the two of you with a few quick steps, wrap your arms around his neck and pull him in for a kiss. Seungcheol wastes no time, wrapping his arms around you, meeting your lips with an equal fervor and the passion of a starving man. Lips connected, bodies in embrace, he guides you through the office, stopping in front of his desk and pushing you against it.
Catching his breath, he swiftly takes off his jacket and your fingers reach out to undo the buttons of his vest, shaking with hazy desire. He helps in taking off your dress, undoing the ribbon on the back and pulling down the zipper before tugging it down with one strong move. Left only in your bra and panties — which do not match by the way — you cringe in embarrassment while trying to combat the sheer amount of desire flowing through your veins. Seungcheol, unbothered, gets down on his knees, face to face with your pussy.
“Oh my god, what are you doing?” You squeak. The response is him taking off your panties with a tug so harsh that the lace on the edges rips.
“Seungcheol!”
“That’s right. That’s how you call me from now on. And that is the only word I want to hear from you now.” He commands with a burning fire in his eyes as he grabs your thighs, putting them over his shoulder and then gets to work.
Shit.
His tongue laps at your core and the first touch has you falling back on his desk, pushing down the stack of files and stationery on the floor. His tongue works at your core mercilessly, switching between playing with your folds and sucking your clit while you writhe in his grasp that is iron clad. With each flick of his tongue, your moans rise, and then he inserts one finger, which very quickly turns into two, and you think might die from the pleasure.
"Fuck!" You cry, body twisting and turning on his desk, desperate to get away from his touch but wanting it simultaneously. It is maddening —whatever that is happening, and you feel your high building, too quick, too strong.
"I cannot...Seungcheol...I think— I think—"
His response is muffled and you can only hope its a positive one as you feel the tremors run through your body, sitting right at the edge of an orgasm. His tongue moves like he has known your body for years, and with one strong flick on your clit, you go off, falling head first into an abyss of pleasure, all your nerves on fire.
As you lie flat on his desk, body still trembling from the orgasm, Seungcheol smothers kisses on your belly, slowly going up towards your chest and then your neck, biting and sucking your skin however he likes. You have bearely had a couple of minutes to recover, but heat starts pooling in your belly all over again, your hands coming up to wrap themselves around him, soft sighs parting from your lips as he kisses your jawbone, soft and sweet.
“You are so beautiful,” he whispers in your ears. With a thousand butterflies fluttering in your stomach, you turn your head to capture his lips in a kiss.
Then, he stands up, discards all the remaining clothes from his body and makes himself comfortable between your legs. You prop yourself on your elbows, taking a good look at his chiseled body and his flushed cock, which stands tall and angry, pointing at you.
“It’s rude to stare, you know.” Your boss hums, stroking his length, before hooking an arm underneath your thigh and yanking you closer to the edge of the table, your pussy a mere inch or so away from his cock.
“I am so sorry, sir,” you smile suggestively and Seunghcheol exhales a rough breath.
“You better keep screaming that when I pound this pussy.” His eyes shine with determination. You bite your lip, giving him a cheeky smile and watch as he inches his cock near your pussy. You take in a deep breath as he pushes his cock inside you, tantalizingly slowly, making sure you feel every inch and your nerves are on fire. With a moan, you fall back on the table, eyes falling shut with the way he fills you up over and over again.
“Fuck,” Seungcheol hisses, his voice throaty as he goes all the way in, and you swear you feel him in your stomach. With a loud cry, you cling onto his body, nails digging into his back and your toes curling at each thrust. He builds a pace, pushing in and out of you in steady movements. Your brain feels like mush as you fail to utter anything, your mouth simply hanging open to let out breathy pants as you close your eyes and feel every ridge of his cock move in and out of you.
“Fuck, you feel so good,” he mutters underneath his breath, eyes set on you so intensely, you feel a shiver run down your back. “Seungcheol…” his name parts from your lips like a prayer. Another mutter of curse from him before he stops his movements and yanks your ass upwards. The new angle makes his length curve inside you and you start seeing stars.
“Oh my god,” you hiss, eyes squeezed shut. The back of your thighs rests over Seungcheol’s, your legs wrapped around his waist, and your hands clutching his arms as he starts to pick up pace. With each thrust, the force increases, the tip of his cock hitting your most sensitive spot, low groans falling from his lips to match your breathy moans.
“Shit...I want to cum...please,” your whisper mindlessly, the words scattered between whines of pleasure. “You want to come?” He taunts, leaning closer to look at your face. “Beg me. Say sir, please let me cum.”
Oh god.
The need to find your release only intensifies at his words. You are so close you can almost taste the blissful release, and as you utter the next words, you wonder what other hidden kinks you have. “Sir, please let me come.” You beg, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him closer to you. The man squeezes his eyes shut and lets out a low groan, his pace increasing.
“Fuck, you’re going to be the death of me,’’ he hisses in your ears, his warm breath tickling your skin.
“Please, sir.” You whisper, doe-eyed and drunk on his cock. “Oh baby,” he murmurs, before leaning in to seize your lips in a bruising kiss. With one hand, he keeps a firm hold on your jaw while the other reaches below to touch your clit as he wastes no time rubbing the sensitive bundle of nerves with the pads of his finger, all the while continuing to thrust inside you earnestly.
“Seungcheol!” With a loud cry you part your lips from his, your entire body jolting at his touch.
Your reaction makes him smirk as he chases his own high, not far away from finishing inside you. Standing up, he slows he pace ever so slightly, making sure to put all his body weight in each thrust as he places your clit between his thumb and index finger, giving you a particularly harsh rub followed by a pinch.
You are catapulted over the edge. Your vision goes white, your entire sweat-coated body twitching on his desk from the intensity of the orgasm. It only amplifies as you feel Seungcheol spill inside you, his warm release filling you up while float as high as the clouds, pure bliss overtaking your senses.
Once you have caught your breath and managed to gather your senses, you realize you lie on top of Seungcheol on the office floor, your bodies pressed together, riddled with exhaustion and sweat. For a moment, you say nothing, just feeling Seungcheol’s chest go up and down with every breath he takes.
“I can’t believe we just did that. In the office.” You whisper, almost like someone would hear you. Seungcheol shifts underneath you, helping you rest your head on his arm. “Me too but about time I acted on my desires.”
Shy but intrigued, you look at him, “Have you been wanting to do this for a while?”
“Fuck you on my desk?” He asks bluntly, making your face heat up. “God yes. You have no idea how long I have wanted to do that.”
A small burst of laughter parts from your lips, delighted at his confession. Snuggling closer to him, you start tracing your index finger aimlessly over his chest. “We are going to be a nightmare for HR.”
“Fuck them. I am the CEO.”
His response makes you smile. “You are serious about this, aren’t you?” Seungcheol’s hand reaches out to cup your cheek, tilting your face upwards to look at him. “If you still have any doubts in your heart, you need to let them go because I am dead serious. You are mine.”
His words reignite the fire in your belly. And the way your lipstick marks are branded all over his face does not quite help either. Still, you decide on teasing him with a pout, “Was that supposed to be a confession? At least buy me some flow—”
You are cut off with another ruthless kiss. His tongue passionately makes its way into your mouth, meeting yours that is equally wanton. You claw at his chest, a soft moan escaping your lips as you feel him growing hard again.
“Fuck,” he almost yanks himself free from your lips. “Let me get you home before we start round two here.” Your delighted laughter rings in the air as the two of you get dressed.
Next morning, when you wake up in Seungcheol’s bed, a bouquet of a hundred roses sits at the foot of the bed, with a note saying:
Can I be your boyfriend?
For a bonus epilogue, click here! This work will also be cross-posted on my AO3.
a/n: this was supposed to be out like a month ago but life got in the way, I suppose. been feeling quite shitty these days hence I haven't been writing much but I have started on this wonwoo fic that is inspired by Perfect Crown (the prime minister's character basically) so let's see where we can go with that. thank you for reading till the end and as always, your reblog, comments and feedback are very very appreciated!
synopsis ➠ you have a crush on your boss and he knows it. he just does not care. until, he starts behaving awfully lot like someone who cares—or maybe you are reading too much into it.
genre ➠ office romance, unrequited love, smut.
word count ➠ 5.7k
warnings ➠ pining, low-key asshole cheol, flirty jeonghan who's lowkey a cupid, unequal power dynamics ig, jealousy, cursing, reader does smth pretty embarrassing, lowkey unrequited love, unprotected sex, office sex, tiny bit of sir kink, female oral, hickeys, multiple orgasms, a lot of kissing, creampie, HR would go crazy if they knew what these two were doing in the office.
“Can I leave early today?” You stand in front of your boss’s desk, sweaty hands clasped in front of you, heartbeat thudding in your ears. Seungcheol has been in a bad mood for a few days now — with the factory relocation and all, which has made his usual grumpy self even grumpier.
“Why?” He drops the file you just brought in with a thud on his desk. Leaning back on his chair, he stares at you with a pointed gaze, like a prison officer looking at an inmate.
“Uhm…I actually have a date…” You murmur. Still impassive, he keeps boring holes into your face with his eyes as you grow uncomfortable.
“Date, huh?”
“Yes.”
He rubs his index finger thoughtfully over his chin before saying, “Go ahead. Take the afternoon off.”
Whew. “Thank you, sir.”
“I hope you won’t go on your date dressed like that.”
What?
You pause, thinking you misheard, and blink at him, who is now looking at his computer screen like he did not just make that snide remark. You look down at your clothes — baby blue silk blouse and a cream skirt — this is not a bad outfit. Not that you were going to go on your date like this anyway. You asked to leave early so that you could go home and freshen up.
Biting your cheek, you hold back any retort. Instead, you decide to overlook his petulance and offer him a smile as you step back. “I will see you on Monday, sir.”
He does not respond and you march out of his office.
—
The man in front of you — Eric — is underwhelming. You already forgot his last name.
he is definitely not worth you going home early to take a full body shower, shave and put on makeup and a nice dress. One hour into the date at the Italian restaurant, he keeps on talking about some start-up he and his buddies are working on, not bothering to ask you a single question.
As you play with the cherry tomatoes on your plate, occasionally nodding as a pretence of listening, your mind starts to wander. And like most times, they drift to the thought of Choi Seungcheol, your boss.
You have had a crush on him for a few years now. The story is an embarrassing one but you have come to own it over time. Five years ago, when you first joined this company as a junior sales executive, he was the COO. He made a good name for himself and the previous chairman loved him, so it was almost an open secret that he would be the next one to take over. He was the definition of tall, dark, and handsome, with a side of sharp intellect and unapologetic bluntness, gaining everyone's admiration if not support.
As expected, once the ex chairman resigned two years later, Seungcheol became the CEO. Right away, he needed a secretary and he wanted someone within the company who already knew the ropes. Among the five applicants, you got the job, and right there, your future was decided — working in close quarters with Choi Seungcheol, the handsome, brooding man whom you looked up to immensely. And somewhere between you switching roles and becoming his right hand person, you fell for him. Hard.
And it was supposed to be a secret. A harmless little crush. Until that one mistake drunk you made.
You had sent your coworker Minji — who is also one of your best friends since college — a text one night after a team dinner, fangirling about your boss in the most brazen way. The next morning, you woke up to see that you, in fact, did not send the text to Minji but the group chat you were in with all the sales team members. Words spread like wildfire, and on Monday, when you showed up at work (while contemplating on what excuse to make up and quit this job and leave this city; possibly the country) word had already reached Seungcheol. Once in his office, he asked you only two questions. Was it true? You nodded yes. Were your feelings going to affect your work? You vehemently shook your head no. As unbothered as ever, he signed some files, handed them back to you and said that all was good and he would overlook this fumble.
And so, since then, everyone in the office knows you have heart eyes for your boss. And over time, you have gotten good at acting casual about it. Except, you know, there is nothing casual about it. It has become a disease, the way you yearn for that man, and it was high time you decided to get out of that cycle of torment.
Which is why you are on this date.
And it isn’t really going well.
Eric is still, somehow, talking about his start-up. With a tight-lipped smile, you interrupt him as your patience stretches thin, “Shall we order dessert?”
—
It is drizzling now.
Outside the restaurant, you stand and wait for your Uber, which seems to be malfunctioning. For the past ten minutes, it has been looking for a driver, but to no avail.
Eric left a while ago, parting with decency once you said you were not sure this would go anywhere. He agreed, saying he was too focused on his business right now anyway. So, that was that.
As you stand and watch the rain, contemplating your life so far, a familiar voice calls your name. “Secretary ___?” You turn around to see Yoon Jeonghan, one of Seungcheol’s closest friends and a big name in the business world. You have worked with him a lot on various projects over the past few years and he has almost become your friend as much as he is Seungcheol’s — especially due to his easygoing behavior and charming humour. He is the exact opposite of Seunghceol in terms of personality and attitude, and you sometimes wonder how they are such good friends.
“Good evening, Mr. Yoon.” You smile.
“See, I thought I saw you earlier when I came in.” He says, stepping out of the restaurant and standing next to you. “Were you not here with someone else?”
You nod.
“Date?”
Another nod with an awkward smile.
“Let me guess, it did not go well.”
“Not really.”
He chuckles. “Well, it is good to see you trying.” He sends a playful look your way. “As I have always been saying, you are too good for Seungcheol. I can get past you being his secretary, but his girlfriend? Nah, that guy isn’t worthy of you.”
Yeah, even Jeonghan knows about your crush on his friend. Probably everyone in this field does.
“I am sure Seungcheol would not like hearing you badmouth him.” You tease.
Jeonghan sends a dramatic look of offence your way. “Badmouth? I am stating the facts, ___. And he would agree with me.”
A black Mercedes pulls up in front of you, the driver stepping out to hold the back door open and Jeonghan extends a hand, gesturing you to get in.
“What? Oh no, I couldn’t possibly trouble you.” You refuse politely.
“No trouble, ___. Get in. You are not going to find a ride anytime soon.”
You bite your lip, hesitating for a second. “Thank you, Mr. Yoon.”
“When are you going to stop calling me that? I told you, Jeonghan is fine.”
Maybe it is the wine in your blood that enables you to say, “Alright, thank you for the ride, Jeonghan.”
He smiles, closing the door behind you.
—
“How was the date?” Seungcheol asks without sparing a look at you as you set down his morning coffee on his desk while he flips through the pages of a report.
You pause. “It was…okay.”
His eyes stray from the documents briefly, taking a quick look at your face before returning to the report. “Seems it was unworthy of the afternoon you took off.”
You look around his office helplessly, uncomfortable at his sudden questioning. It seems like he is picking on you on purpose. You decide it will be better to divert the conversation, “I met Jeonghan at the restaurant.” You cringe at how you accidentally refer to his friend by his first name.
Your words finally make your boss drop his work and regard you with full attention. “Jeonghan?”
“Erm, Mr. Yoon, I mean.” You avoid his eyes. “He was kind enough to offer me a ride home, since it was raining and all.” You need to stop blabbering. Seungcheol stares at you silently for too long a moment, his intense eyes focused on you as if he is decoding something.
“I see.” He murmurs after a while.
A beat of silence.
“Well then, I will prepare for the meeting.” You awkwardly bow while stepping back, eager to rid yourself of the growing tension in the air. With his usual expressionless face, Seungcheol’s eyes follow you until you are out the door.
—
The meeting today is, in fact, with Jeonghan. This weekend, his gallery is holding an art exhibition, sponsored by Seungcheol’s company, with him as the keynote speaker. Today’s meeting is to cross-check if everything is in place and for last-minute adjustments.
“Where is my dear friend?” Jeonghan asks as he takes a seat in the meeting room. You take a seat on the opposite side of the table while a junior employee distributes the printouts across the table.
“He will be here soon, Mr. Yoon. He told me to go ahead and start the meeting.” You smile. Jeonghan drums his fingers on the desk. “I thought we agreed you’d call me Jeonghan.”
You pause, looking around, briefly meeting the eyes of Jeonghan’s secretary as well as the employee arranging the desk. “At work it may not be the most appropriate.” You explain.
He sighs dramatically. “You know, sometimes, I feel like you are becoming quite like Seungcheol.”
You look at him, wide eyed. “My god, what do you mean?”
He throws his head back and laughs, “The idea is distressing, no?”
“Your face is distressing.” A voice says quietly but unamusedly and you turn back to see Seungcheol stepping into the meeting room, with his usual air of boredom. Taking the seat next to you, he murmurs, “Why don’t you stop flirting with my secretary and optimize the work hours?”
“Someone is extra grumpy today.” Jeonghan teases with a knowing grin. Ignoring him, Seungcheol says to the junior employee, “Mina, can you pull up the slides?”
The rest of the meeting is productive as the four of you finalize all the details and map out the entire event. As the discussion rolls to an end, and your boss is getting up from his seat, Jeonghan says, “___, I would like to have you as a translator for the exhibition day.”
Surprised, you blink at him. Next to you, Seungcheol, who just got up from his chair, stills. Jeonghan continues, “You know, there will be a lot of French guests and I would love it if you were my translator. I’ll pay you for your time, of course.”
“Just hire a translator,” Seungcheol says dryly.
“Oh come on,” Jeonghan rolls his eyes. “Don’t be such a baby. ___ has helped us out with translations before. I need someone I am familiar with and someone who is smart and charming.” He turns to you. “You have no problem with it, right?”
“Uh,” you glance at your boss, who is staring at his friend with narrowed eyes. “No, I don’t mind.” You are supposed to be there anyway, as a representative on Sungcheol’s end. So getting paid separately to be there does not hurt. Besides, you have always loved meeting new people.
“It is settled then,” Jeonghan smiles, clasping his hands. “I promise to return her to you, Cheollie. Stop glaring at me like that.”
“Whatever,” your boss murmurs and marches out of the room, shutting the door behind him with a loud thud. You cringe, before looking at Jeonghan, “I’m sorry. I have no idea why he has been behaving weirdly for the past few days.”
A mysterious smile kisses his lips, “I think I know why.”
“Huh?”
“Never mind.” He turns to his secretary, “Could you please email the contacts of the French guests to ___.”
—
The exhibition starts at 2 pm, but you arrive at Jeonghan’s gallery by 1 pm. Jeonghan’s secretary, Chan, gives you the tour, showing you around the space and the paintings being exhibited while his boss finishes a meeting. Just before the exhibition is about to start, Jeonghan finds you.
“Hey, ___. Sorry, my meeting took longer than expected.”
You smile. “No trouble. Chan was a very helpful guide.”
“That’s good to hear.” He replies before glancing down the length of your body. “You look stunning, by the way.”
Flattered, you glance down at the length of your baby pink dress before giving him a smile. “Thank you. You look great as well.”
He fixes the lapels of his maroon suit with a dramatic gesture. “Thanks, this is a custom piece from Italy. By the way, when is your boss going to grace us with his presence? He does know that he has to be here by 4 for his speech, right?”
“He said he would be here in time.” You give Jeonghan a tight smile. “He had a few meetings in the morning.”
“And let me guess, he is brooding.”
“Yeah, the warehouse shift has been a challenge.”
“Mhm, I think that’s not all.”
“What?” You blink. Before he can reply, Chan calls his name. With a reassuring smile and a soft squeeze on your shoulder, Jeonghan takes his leave.
Thus starts the event. You greet the guests and show them around the gallery, chatting and socializing all the way through while keeping an eye out to make sure everything is going as planned. Despite your worries, Seungcheol shows up on time — 15 minutes before his speech. After the viewing, the crowd moves to the auditorium for the panel discussion, where Seungcheol delivers his speech, along with a few other guests. You have some food, observe the scene, and help the staff with anything they need before finally, the exhibition officially rolls to an end.
To your surprise, Seungcheol stayed the entire time. You had expected him to march out the moment he was done with his formalities but he stayed the entire length of the artist’s discussion panel, hovering around, never quite coming to you or addressing you, puzzling you.
Why was he acting like a stranger?
Just as you are contemplating his behavior with a glass of champagne in your hand, Jeonghan appears. “Thank you so much for your help today, ___. You were amazing.”
You grin. “You are too kind. And it was my pleasure. This is a really good exhibition.”
“Thank you, I am glad you enjoyed it.” He winks playfully. A cameraman walks past you and Jeonghan flags him, asking for a photo of the two of you. You pose next to him, flashing a big smile for the camera. Just as you are recovering from the blinding flash, you see Seungcheol heading towards you.
He is dressed in a dark grey three-piece suit today and all afternoon, you have tried your best not to let yourself drool over him. It does not work right now, as with the jacket off, you can see the muscles of his bicep bulge underneath the white shirt and momentarily, your mind blanks.
“Ugh, there comes Mister Sourpants.” Jeonghan murmurs. Seungcheol comes to a halt in front of you, his eyes briefly meeting yours before he looks at his friend. “Great work on not botching the show.” He says unimpressively. Jeonghan laughs, slinging an arm over his shoulder, “You underestimate me, my friend. But thanks for showing up and not badmouthing me on stage. I’m surprised you’re still here.”
“I was looking at the pictures.” Your boss responds indifferently.
“Well, since you are all still here, let's go grab dinner together.” Jeoghan offers.
“No thanks, I am going back to the office.” Seungcheol removes his friend’s arm from his shoulder. When Jeonghan looks at you expectantly, you say, “I would love to, but not today. I have to go to the office too, as I left my charger. My battery is about to die. I have some work to finish up as well.”
Jeonghan rolls his eyes, “Ever the workaholics. Come on, people, work hours are over!”
“Let’s have dinner on Friday night, perhaps?” You look at Seungcheol for confirmation but he seems busy with his phone, dialling his driver’s number. As he presses the phone against his ear, you notice something and your hands instinctively reach out to fix his crooked tie, before smoothening the hem of his vest. You have done it multiple times before — for meetings and press conferences — as Seungcheol’s tie always seems to rest in a crooked manner.
As you finish fixing it and he hangs up the call, your eyes lock with his and a shiver runs down your spine. In a split second, the air seems to be full of tension, thick enough to cut through with a knife and hot enough to ignite a fire in your belly.
Fuck. You look away and retract your hands, trying to act as normal as possible. “Your tie was crooked.” You murmur.
“Thanks.” Seungcheol’s voice is quiet.
Jeonghan looks at the two of you with a growing smile of mischief. “Well,” he looks pointedly between the two of you, clasping his hands, “I will let you kids get back to work for today. Thanks again for your help, ___.”
“My pleasure.” You smile, suddenly embarrassed to meet his eyes. With a harsh pat on the back and a suggestive wiggle of his brows, Jenghan says goodbye to Seungcheol, grinning like a Cheshire cat. With his friend gone, Seungcheol wastes no time, marching towards the exit, “Let us get going.”
—
It is suffocating inside the car.
Even with the AC on full blast, it feels like a thousand degrees in here with zero ventilation. The earlier tense moment between the two of you seems to linger, now even more amplified than before in this enclosed space.
You shift uncomfortably in your seat, trying to think of something to talk about but coming up with nothing. You don’t trust yourself to speak right now, so you try your very best to look out the window and pretend there is no one sitting next to you. After a while, when doing that gets tough, you pull out your iPad and start sorting through your work.
Just then, Seungcheol speaks. “You seem to have gotten really close with Jeonghan.”
Oh boy. There seems to be an edge to his voice and you are unsure how to reply or what to reply. An awkward laugh floats past your lips. “I mean, he is easy to get along with, you know.”
“Mhmm.” Even the Sahara is not as dry as his tone.
You glance at him, waiting to hear something else. For a brief second, you let yourself be distracted by his gorgeous face — the couple of stray strands of hair on his forehead calling your name, making your hand itch to put them back in place.
Though if it were up to you, you would mess up his hair. And his clothes. And his back—
“From now on, don’t help him out.” He turns to look at you. “He might be my friend but business is still business and you are my employee.”
“Uh, okay.” You whisper. Your boss looks back out the window, and you interpret that as the conversation being over. You return to your work, but for some reason, the numbers and the letters on screen make no sense to you.
A moment later, you whisper, “Did I do something to upset you?”
Seungcheol turns his head slowly to regard you with a quizzical look. A sudden rush of emotions swirls within you, and for a scary moment, you think you might cry. With a deep, calming breath, you meet his eyes and try to flash your usual professional smile. “If you are displeased with my work or anything I have done, I hope you will let me know.”
Seungcheol is mute and slightly wide-eyed, almost like he is scared of you. The silence stretches on like chewing gum, and he looks like he is about to say something, but the car halts, and you waste no time getting out.
A quiet and suffocating elevator ride later, you step into your floor, with Seungcheol leading the way. The office is now empty and quiet, save for your footsteps, which halt in front of your desk as you set your things down. Seungcheol continues his way towards his personal office, but stops at his door. Turning his head back, he says, “Can you come into my office for a second?” His voice is not commanding, and he almost sounds unsure.
Confused, you stare at him for a second as he stands at his door, eyes fixed on you expectantly. Quickly plugging your phone in, you walk towards the double doors, stepping through the one he was holding open.
The second you are inside, Seungcheol locks the door shut behind you. You only get a second to process that you are pressed against the door with Seungcheol’s body dangerously close to yours and keeping you trapped, before a hand cups your jaw and tilts your head up.
“I can’t pretend anymore.” He whispers so low, you almost miss it.
“What?” You croak, your heart galloping like a racehorse, your knees are suddenly weak. What the fuck is going on? Are you dreaming?
His eyes meet yours before he utters very quietly, “I can’t pretend that I don’t care for you. I care much, much more than a boss should care for his secretary.”
“I…I don’t…” You mumble, heart racing in your ribcage, brain functioning on overdrive to make sense of what is happening.
“I am going to kiss you now, ___.” He warns. Then, Seungcheol is kissing you.
Warm, soft and delightful, you forget to breathe for a long second, your heart swooning, ready to burst. Almost unconsciously, you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him close, molding your body with his. His large arms wrap around your back and your waist, pressing you flush against him, and you swear it is the best feeling in the world.
When you part, Seungcheol looks at you with glistening eyes, warm like a summer afternoon and for a second, you get lost in them. The kiss lingers on your lips, making you bite your lower lip. Like yours, your boss’s lips too, are swollen and just as he leans his face towards you again, you stop him, pressing your hands flat on his chest.
“Wait. Stop.” You say, voice too loud amongst the stillness.
Seungcheol pauses, eyes flashing with worry.
“Are you drunk, Mr. Choi?”
“What?”
“This cannot happen if you are drunk.” You take a deep, shuddering breath. “I… I cannot be your plaything. You know very well that I like you — I have been for a while and I’m trying to make sense of why you are suddenly doing this. I…I cannot—” you are suddenly choked with emotion, your gaze falling on the floor.
“___.” He says your name with a tenderness unlike ever before. “Look at me.”
You cannot bring yourself to, fighting to keep the tears at bay. With a finger below your chin, he tilts your face up to meet his eyes. “I am not playing with you. I am doing what I should have done long ago.”
“What?”
“I like you, ___. A lot. And I have liked you for a while. I just did not realize it,” He sighs, taking a step back and running a hand through his hair. “Well, I actually did…I think. I just did not want to give in to it, I suppose, with the dynamic we have and all.” His pauses, looking back at you. “I know this is pathetic, especially with the way I have been behaving for the past few weeks, but I cannot pretend anymore. I hate seeing you go on those dates. I hate seeing you be friendly with Jeonghan. I want to do those things with you. I want to be with you.”
Breathless, you gape at him, still struggling to believe that all of this is real.
Holy shit. Holy fucking shit.
“I took you for granted.” He continues. “I got so used to your presence around me that I thought I would have you forever, forgetting that you could eventually move and find someone else, not only getting over me but leaving this job altogether.”
“So what, this is a ploy to keep me working here forever?” An awkward laugh comes from your mouth. Seungcheol keeps looking at you with a somber expression, a quiet storm brewing in his eyes.
“I mean it, ___. I want you. I want you to be mine, and I want to be yours.” He says quietly.
Wow. You must have died and gone to heaven.
Realizing that there is not much left to say, you inhale a steady breath, remove the gap between the two of you with a few quick steps, wrap your arms around his neck and pull him in for a kiss. Seungcheol wastes no time, wrapping his arms around you, meeting your lips with an equal fervor and the passion of a starving man. Lips connected, bodies in embrace, he guides you through the office, stopping in front of his desk and pushing you against it.
Catching his breath, he swiftly takes off his jacket and your fingers reach out to undo the buttons of his vest, shaking with hazy desire. He helps in taking off your dress, undoing the ribbon on the back and pulling down the zipper before tugging it down with one strong move. Left only in your bra and panties — which do not match by the way — you cringe in embarrassment while trying to combat the sheer amount of desire flowing through your veins. Seungcheol, unbothered, gets down on his knees, face to face with your pussy.
“Oh my god, what are you doing?” You squeak. The response is him taking off your panties with a tug so harsh that the lace on the edges rips.
“Seungcheol!”
“That’s right. That’s how you call me from now on. And that is the only word I want to hear from you now.” He commands with a burning fire in his eyes as he grabs your thighs, putting them over his shoulder and then gets to work.
Shit.
His tongue laps at your core and the first touch has you falling back on his desk, pushing down the stack of files and stationery on the floor. His tongue works at your core mercilessly, switching between playing with your folds and sucking your clit while you writhe in his grasp that is iron clad. With each flick of his tongue, your moans rise, and then he inserts one finger, which very quickly turns into two, and you think might die from the pleasure.
"Fuck!" You cry, body twisting and turning on his desk, desperate to get away from his touch but wanting it simultaneously. It is maddening —whatever that is happening, and you feel your high building, too quick, too strong.
"I cannot...Seungcheol...I think— I think—"
His response is muffled and you can only hope its a positive one as you feel the tremors run through your body, sitting right at the edge of an orgasm. His tongue moves like he has known your body for years, and with one strong flick on your clit, you go off, falling head first into an abyss of pleasure, all your nerves on fire.
As you lie flat on his desk, body still trembling from the orgasm, Seungcheol smothers kisses on your belly, slowly going up towards your chest and then your neck, biting and sucking your skin however he likes. You have bearely had a couple of minutes to recover, but heat starts pooling in your belly all over again, your hands coming up to wrap themselves around him, soft sighs parting from your lips as he kisses your jawbone, soft and sweet.
“You are so beautiful,” he whispers in your ears. With a thousand butterflies fluttering in your stomach, you turn your head to capture his lips in a kiss.
Then, he stands up, discards all the remaining clothes from his body and makes himself comfortable between your legs. You prop yourself on your elbows, taking a good look at his chiseled body and his flushed cock, which stands tall and angry, pointing at you.
“It’s rude to stare, you know.” Your boss hums, stroking his length, before hooking an arm underneath your thigh and yanking you closer to the edge of the table, your pussy a mere inch or so away from his cock.
“I am so sorry, sir,” you smile suggestively and Seunghcheol exhales a rough breath.
“You better keep screaming that when I pound this pussy.” His eyes shine with determination. You bite your lip, giving him a cheeky smile and watch as he inches his cock near your pussy. You take in a deep breath as he pushes his cock inside you, tantalizingly slowly, making sure you feel every inch and your nerves are on fire. With a moan, you fall back on the table, eyes falling shut with the way he fills you up over and over again.
“Fuck,” Seungcheol hisses, his voice throaty as he goes all the way in, and you swear you feel him in your stomach. With a loud cry, you cling onto his body, nails digging into his back and your toes curling at each thrust. He builds a pace, pushing in and out of you in steady movements. Your brain feels like mush as you fail to utter anything, your mouth simply hanging open to let out breathy pants as you close your eyes and feel every ridge of his cock move in and out of you.
“Fuck, you feel so good,” he mutters underneath his breath, eyes set on you so intensely, you feel a shiver run down your back. “Seungcheol…” his name parts from your lips like a prayer. Another mutter of curse from him before he stops his movements and yanks your ass upwards. The new angle makes his length curve inside you and you start seeing stars.
“Oh my god,” you hiss, eyes squeezed shut. The back of your thighs rests over Seungcheol’s, your legs wrapped around his waist, and your hands clutching his arms as he starts to pick up pace. With each thrust, the force increases, the tip of his cock hitting your most sensitive spot, low groans falling from his lips to match your breathy moans.
“Shit...I want to cum...please,” your whisper mindlessly, the words scattered between whines of pleasure. “You want to come?” He taunts, leaning closer to look at your face. “Beg me. Say sir, please let me cum.”
Oh god.
The need to find your release only intensifies at his words. You are so close you can almost taste the blissful release, and as you utter the next words, you wonder what other hidden kinks you have. “Sir, please let me come.” You beg, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him closer to you. The man squeezes his eyes shut and lets out a low groan, his pace increasing.
“Fuck, you’re going to be the death of me,’’ he hisses in your ears, his warm breath tickling your skin.
“Please, sir.” You whisper, doe-eyed and drunk on his cock. “Oh baby,” he murmurs, before leaning in to seize your lips in a bruising kiss. With one hand, he keeps a firm hold on your jaw while the other reaches below to touch your clit as he wastes no time rubbing the sensitive bundle of nerves with the pads of his finger, all the while continuing to thrust inside you earnestly.
“Seungcheol!” With a loud cry you part your lips from his, your entire body jolting at his touch.
Your reaction makes him smirk as he chases his own high, not far away from finishing inside you. Standing up, he slows he pace ever so slightly, making sure to put all his body weight in each thrust as he places your clit between his thumb and index finger, giving you a particularly harsh rub followed by a pinch.
You are catapulted over the edge. Your vision goes white, your entire sweat-coated body twitching on his desk from the intensity of the orgasm. It only amplifies as you feel Seungcheol spill inside you, his warm release filling you up while float as high as the clouds, pure bliss overtaking your senses.
Once you have caught your breath and managed to gather your senses, you realize you lie on top of Seungcheol on the office floor, your bodies pressed together, riddled with exhaustion and sweat. For a moment, you say nothing, just feeling Seungcheol’s chest go up and down with every breath he takes.
“I can’t believe we just did that. In the office.” You whisper, almost like someone would hear you. Seungcheol shifts underneath you, helping you rest your head on his arm. “Me too but about time I acted on my desires.”
Shy but intrigued, you look at him, “Have you been wanting to do this for a while?”
“Fuck you on my desk?” He asks bluntly, making your face heat up. “God yes. You have no idea how long I have wanted to do that.”
A small burst of laughter parts from your lips, delighted at his confession. Snuggling closer to him, you start tracing your index finger aimlessly over his chest. “We are going to be a nightmare for HR.”
“Fuck them. I am the CEO.”
His response makes you smile. “You are serious about this, aren’t you?” Seungcheol’s hand reaches out to cup your cheek, tilting your face upwards to look at him. “If you still have any doubts in your heart, you need to let them go because I am dead serious. You are mine.”
His words reignite the fire in your belly. And the way your lipstick marks are branded all over his face does not quite help either. Still, you decide on teasing him with a pout, “Was that supposed to be a confession? At least buy me some flow—”
You are cut off with another ruthless kiss. His tongue passionately makes its way into your mouth, meeting yours that is equally wanton. You claw at his chest, a soft moan escaping your lips as you feel him growing hard again.
“Fuck,” he almost yanks himself free from your lips. “Let me get you home before we start round two here.” Your delighted laughter rings in the air as the two of you get dressed.
Next morning, when you wake up in Seungcheol’s bed, a bouquet of a hundred roses sits at the foot of the bed, with a note saying:
Can I be your boyfriend?
For a bonus epilogue, click here! This work will also be cross-posted on my AO3.
a/n: this was supposed to be out like a month ago but life got in the way, I suppose. been feeling quite shitty these days hence I haven't been writing much but I have started on this wonwoo fic that is inspired by Perfect Crown (the prime minister's character basically) so let's see where we can go with that. thank you for reading till the end and as always, your reblog, comments and feedback are very very appreciated!
synopsis ➠ he has lured your brother into his hellish cult. it is up to you to save him—only if you can save yourself first. because jeonghan has his eyes on you, and he will get you. and break you, eventually.
pairing ➠ cult leader!jeonghan x librarian female!reader
genre ➠ dark romance, thriller, smut, small town au.
word count ➠ 10.3k + 1k (patreon bonus)
warnings ➠ READ CAREFULLY ! cults, mention of blood, cultist activities like seance, sacrifice, etc., drinking, cursing, stalking, severe manipulation, gaslighting, blasphemy, propaganda?? brainwashing, cursing, drinking, huge betrayal, unresolved trauma, mention of murder, muder attempt, fingering in a confession booth, dubcon ig? fingering, hickeys, nipple play, edging, orgasm denial, use of pet names, pussy eating, female degradation(slut, whore), hand necklace, sadism and masochism, big dicc jh, rough sex, unprotected sex, overstimulation, sex in a church, slapping, spitting, multiple orgasms.
a/n: this fic contains blasphemous themes, so please do not interact if uncomfortable. it also contains inaccurate descriptions of catholic systems, so please do not take this seriously. it is a work of fiction!
His eyes are unbelievably kind for someone so…despicable.
From behind a tree, you observe him, how he kneels down to talk to an older couple, giving them a brochure while explaining something with gestures — all smiles.
You hold your breath, your hands fisted at your sides.
The man —Yoon Jeonghan —runs a cult.
You would not have believed it, you had not, in fact, until yesterday. Your brother has been acting suspiciously for a while now, coming home late, not attending his classes, always keeping the door to his room locked, avoiding you—the list goes on. Yesterday was the tipping point. It was your mother’s death anniversary and when he was yet to show up after midnight, you decided to break into his room with the spare key.
Maybe it would have been better if you hadn’t, because that would let you continue to live your life in the shelter of ignorance. The evidence was bright and shining, pictures of animal sacrifice, blood pacts, your documents and contracts stating your brother’s allegiance to some institution and its temple, weird robes and hats and whatnot.
Sure, you have been hearing the rumours for a long time, ever since you moved in here two years ago, to be precise. This is a small town, consisting mostly of old people. Nothing really happens here—no events, no tourists. Just everyone minding their business, which is one of the reasons why you decided to move here with your brother.
You needed the quiet, the lack of attention. Sure, you had to leave your comfortable job as a university teacher in the city. But you wanted the peace over the money. For you and your brother. A place where no one would recognize you and let you be.
And everything was going well. You have secured a job at the local library as the head librarian and the bookkeeper, while your brother attends the community college. The pay is a downgrade from your previous job, but with the low living costs here, you two have been getting by comfortably.
Until this happened.
How did your brother fall into this scheme?
“Isn’t he the sweetest?” A woman’s voice drags you out of your thoughts. You turn around to find Jieun, a middle-aged lady who manages this hospice. “He has been volunteering here regularly for a while now.”
You blink, unable to find a sober reply to her words.
“You should join us sometime.” She offers. “Bring your brother with you as well. What was his name again?”
“Chan.” You mutter.
“Right! Little Channie. How is he doing?”
“Good.” You whisper, eyes going back to Jeonghan, who is now pushing a woman in a wheelchair back inside.
“How long has he been living here, in this town?” You ask with a quick jut of your chin, trying your best to seem nonchalant.
“Hmm, I don’t know.” She ponders for a second. “It has been about seven or eight years, I guess. He has been a gem for this town, you know? Such a gentleman. Very reliable too.” She goes on and on about his qualities, which you tune out, your eyes intently set on the hospice building, waiting to catch a glimpse of him.
“You know, aunty,” you cut her off, staring at her with your most unimpressed look. “I used to think the same about him. Until I heard what he has been doing around town.”
“Whatever do you mean?”
“He runs a cult.” You state, looking her dead in the eye. Jieun’s face morphs, changing into a look of disapproval, borderline disgust. “You should not believe everything you hear, young lady.”
“What if I saw it with my own eyes?”
She pauses. In a dark, menacing tone, she says, “He has done a lot for us. He always has our best interests at heart. I do hope you remember that.”
Without another word, she marches off, leaving you feeling jittery. You take a second to gather your thoughts and when you look back at the hospice building, Jeonghan stands in the front, looking right at you.
You jolt, unnerved by his blank but piercing gaze, shivers going down your spine. He stands as still as a statue, his face devoid of anything human, his eyes focused on you, in a way as if he can see inside your mind, read the thoughts you are having.
You are short of breath. Jeonghan seems to have that effect on you.
—
You have had quite a few interactions with Jeonghan before.
He would come by the library often, borrowing books every two weeks or so. Art, philosophy, history, religion—he read it all. You looked forward to seeing him. Probably because he possessed an undeniable charm, his outgoing, flirty personality and his effortlessly good looks did make you feel something harmless in your belly. But also because you had intelligent conversations with him, though brief, for a minute or two, reminding you of your old life. There were not a lot of young people around, and those who were around were not the most interested in your interests. Nerdy interests, as your brother liked to put it.
Jeonghan never asked too many questions, never misbehaved, never acted weird. Nothing to hint that he is running a literal cult behind the scenes. But now that you know his true self, you realize you always thought there was something peculiar about his gaze. Something sinister. Something dark and depraved always lingered in his eyes whenever he looked at you — his ever-present smile never really reaching his eyes.
Was he feeling you out? Trying to understand if you would be a good victim? Were you too smart for him? Is that why he went after your brother and not you?
Thoughts of all sorts plague your mind as you sit on your couch and stare mindlessly at the TV, a glass of wine swirling in your hand.
It is almost twelve at midnight and your brother is yet to return home. It feels like one of those days where he will not, in fact, come home at night. He has started doing this lately, not coming home at night and every time you have confronted him, it has led to arguments only.
“I stay at a friend’s house, okay? He is really nice. I like to stay over there.” This was all he said. You have a growing feeling that the friend he talks about is Jeonghan. You heard he lives near the church in a two-storey house. For a moment, you consider going over there and demanding to be let inside but give up on that plan.
You do not want to give Jeonghan the idea that you know what he is doing. No, you want to keep playing oblivious, acting like usual with him. Maybe you should play the damsel in distress? That should get you his attention and maybe even bring you into his clique of goat-worshipping people. After all, cult leaders love to prey on vulnerable people.
Though you have not thought this plan through. You are yet to figure out what you will do after you join his cult. Calling the police does not feel like the best option, so you are left with making the evidence public. Maybe you could film something or take pictures and upload them to social media? That would at least garner attention and bring some people into town to see things for themselves. That would force Jeonghan to hide or relocate, no?
You take a sip of wine, swirling the liquid in your mouth before switching off the TV. It is a quarter past twelve now.
You pad over to the window with your glass, mindlessly moving aside the curtain and gazing out. The street is dark and lifeless, the faint yellow glow of the streetlamp making it appear even more haunting. It takes another second for you to process that someone is standing outside.
On your lawn.
You choke on your breath, instinctively stepping away from the window.
Fuck. You swear someone is standing outside— not an apparition but something real. It could not be a hallucination, right? Setting the glass down, you reach for the curtain once more with shaky hands. Moving it aside a couple of inches, you peer outside, and the hairs on your neck stand upright.
Yes, someone is outside, standing still on your lawn. Someone who is wearing a red cloak, the hoodie covering their face. It is bone-chillingly eerie, the way the figure stands so very still. Just as you are debating calling the police, the figure slowly starts walking.
Thankfully, away from your house. The figure slowly walks back onto the street, their steps leisurely, almost looking like they are floating with the way the red cloak drags against the road.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
You slump down on the floor, your heart racing in your chest, perspiration beading down your temples.
What has your brother gotten himself into?
—
“I am going to the mass,” Chan announces as he walks past you to get to the kitchen counter and pours himself a glass of orange juice.
You set your phone and close the notebook you had in front of you — littered with your notes about cults — and turn around to stare at your brother.
“You are going to church?” You cannot hide the incredulity in your voice.
“Yes.” He continues drinking his juice without turning around.
Chan was never religious—no one in your family was. So this sudden interest in church makes you alarmed.
“Did Jeonghan convince you to go?”
Your brother finally turns around and regards you with a quizzical look, as if he is surprised to hear his name from your mouth. For a long few seconds, he stares at you before saying matter-of-factly, “Jeonghan is leading the sermon today.”
Right. You have heard that he leads Sunday sermons sometimes.
Chan walks past you, heading for the door. In a split second, you make a decision. “Give me five minutes to get ready. I will come with you.”
—
As you expected, the church is crowded.
The sermon is about to start when you step in with your brother. The two of you take a seat at one of the back pews. It has been a long, long time since you have been inside a church, so you feel slightly out of place—eye skirting around the crowd before landing at the very front, at the altar, which is graced by Jeoghan.
Dressed in a white robe with intricate gold details, he is the picture of holiness, an image of purity in front of the crucifix. The fabric falls in clean lines to his ankles, bright against the darker wood of the altar around him. Thin gold embroidery runs along the edges and cuffs, and a narrow stole hangs straight from his shoulders, its trim catching the daylight streaming through the high windows. All smiles and bows, he greets everyone, his eyes scanning the room before finally spotting you at the back.
Your breath hitches as his eyes lock with yours.
You swear the look in his eyes shifts. The earlier kindness and light seem to disappear, taken over by something dark — the look of a predator about to devour his prey. The smile is still there, ever-present but your body remains tense, heart galloping under his ruthless gaze.
Suddenly, you are transported to last night, standing at the window and looking at the figure standing in your lawn. The longer you look at Jeonghan, the more you have a sinking feeling that it was him. You have no proof, just a sinking, suffocating feeling in your gut, alarm bells going off in your head in full volume.
The sermon starts. And ends. Everything is a blur for you. Jeonghan’s voice, the hums of the prayers, the sunlight seeping through the antique windows—everything is suffocating.
The more you look around you, the realization strengthens. Maybe this entire town is in the cult. They are all a part of a bigger conspiracy, of which you and your brother are victims. You have seen the movies, read the books. Someone is always the sacrifice. Maybe this time, it is you.
“Noona?” Chan’s voice jolts you back to reality. He is standing up, looking down at you with annoyance, “What are you thinking so hard about?”
“Huh?”
You look around and see people walking out of the church. Right. The show is over.
“Sorry,” you murmur, standing up and slinging your bag over your shoulder. You step towards the door with Chan trailing after you, until a voice calls out, “Chan!”
You stop in your tracks, not turning around immediately.
It is Jeonghan. You need to get your head in the game.
Turning around, you find him jogging towards you two, his expression cheerful. He pats your brother’s shoulder, all smiles, “So glad you joined us today. Hope I did not bore you.”
Your brother chuckles, “Not at all, hyung. It was inspiring.”
“Very happy to hear that.” Jeonghan ruffles his hair before glancing at you. “I see you brought your sister today.”
“Yeah, she wanted to come along.”
“The more the merrier.” He flashes a dashing smile at you. “I hope it was bearable for you.”
Your heart races, whether from the nerves or his smile, you are unsure. “I enjoyed it. As Chan said, it was inspiring.” You smile, doing your best to appear docile and pliant, hoping he does not see through your lie.
“I am flattered.” He puts a hand on his heart and does a curtsy. “I hope to see you around often.”
You smile. Suddenly, Chan’s phone starts ringing, and he excuses himself, leaving you alone with the devil.
But also giving you an opportunity.
You take a small step closer to Jeonghan, fidgeting with your fingers. “Um…how should I address you? Pastor? Father?”
His eyes shine. “Just Jeonghan is fine, ___. I just lead some sermons every now and then.”
It's unnerving, the way he says your name, voice dripping with an irresistible concoction of honey and poison. You hear your heartbeat in your ears. “I…want to share something with you.” You do your very best to appear vulnerable and hesitant, like you are letting him in on a special secret. “I hope you will keep it a secret. It is regarding my brother.”
He comes one step closer, just enough for you to feel the warmth radiating off him, and the subtle smell of his cologne tickling your nose. “What is it?”
“Uh,” you look around the empty church before locking your eyes with his. “I think he has gotten into some sort of cult.”
You swear his eyes flash. Dangerously. “What? Really?”
You nod. “He is always out and I found some things in his bedroom. Pictures of…rituals.” You remain cautious, not to mention the documents you found with Jeonghan’s name clearly written in them.
“That’s concerning. Have you talked to him about it?” He sounds genuinely worried. And for a second, you second-guess yourself. What if it is Jeonghan? You actually have no definitive proof that it is him, just some hunch based on some floating rumours.
You shake your head.
“Would you like me to talk to him about it?” He asks, ever the gentleman. With his soft voice of concern, the grave expression on his face, and his white outfit, he is the picture of salvation. Once again, your heart acts up.
“I would really appreciate that.” You whisper, giving him your best doe eyes. Jeonghan nods, determined. You don’t miss the way his gaze shifts for a second, towards your chest. You wore this sundress on purpose today — pink and frilly, slightly low-cut, not too scandalous for the church, but showing just enough skin than you usually do.
“Thank you, Jeonghan.” You whisper.
“You are most welcome,” he pauses. This time, his gaze is unabashed as he takes a slow, thorough look from your chest to your face. “I will see you next Sunday?”
“Sure.”
“Good.”
—
For the next few days, Chan acts abnormally normal. He attends classes, returns home on time and even has dinner with you at the dining table.
As pleased as you are with this change, you also start feeling extremely confused. Have you truly gone paranoid? Did you misread something? Because what could be the reason behind this sudden change in Chan, if not Jeonghan counselling him?
However, something in you tells you that things are not as simple as they seem. Which is why, on Thursday night, when Chan announces after dinner that he is going to step out for a bit, you decide to trust your gut. You let him go without asking much, fully intent on following him.
He steps out of the house and after a few minutes, you do too, trailing after him while maintaining a safe distance. The streets are fairly empty, with a few cars going down the road, so there is no way for you to lose him.
Tonight has to be the night. You have second-guessed yourself enough, trapped in your confusion and Jeonghan’s manipulative charm, going round and round in search of the truth. That’s how cult leaders are—they play with your mind till it is broken. You need to see for yourself if it is truly him, and if it is, you are ready to document everything.
Chan continues walking, past the church and the slightly upper-class neighbourhood and into the small forest right at the outskirts of town. The deeper he goes into the forest, the bigger you create the distance between the two of you. You know there are people ahead. There is a constant hum of chatter and you see a glow of warm yellow light, which is of a fire, you realize once you are close enough.
It almost looks like a campfire. There are about thirty people gathered around it, looking like they are middle-aged or older. It seems harmless at first—just a bunch of people hanging around a fire until it does not. They start donning their robes, a black cloak, long and baggy, covering every inch of their skin. With the hoodie on, everyone becomes the same, and Chan is lost in the sea of faceless black.
You have yet to see Jeonghan, increasing your agitation. Would it even be possible to spot him in this crowd of people?
From your spot behind a pine tree, you shift, taking a few careful steps closer. With the looks of it, they seem to be preparing for a seance as one person starts lighting candles, placing them on the ground in the shape of a pentagon. Another person goes around the crowd, handing some sort of an item to everyone. A dagger? You cannot say for sure.
You start snapping pictures anyway.
In a few minutes, the preparation is done, and everyone stands in a particular formation, some at the points of the pentagon and others in a circle surrounding the pentagon.
And then, with your tension at its peak, finally, you are graced with the sight of him.
Yoon Jeonghan.
He appears from the other side of the forest, dressed in a red velvet cloak, standing out in the sea of black. Without the head cover on, you see his face, bright and clear and your heartbeat skyrockets. It was him last night in front of your house. Swallowing a lump in your throat, you hold the phone still, recording a video as he steps into the middle of the pentagon.
You are not close enough to hear what he is saying, but it seems to be the commencement of the seance, with the way everyone hangs on to his words.
The next few minutes are unnerving. They chant, they sing, their haunting echo of murmurs hanging in the air. You start to feel physically sick as a strong gust of wind flows by, as if something supernatural has arrived.
The fire burns stronger. The pages of a book they had open starts flapping. The unanimous voices grow louder. Until…they stop. Then, everyone pulls out a small dagger and, all together, slashes the palm of their hand, letting the blood gather onto what looks like a small earthen pot on the ground.
Shivers wrack down your spine. You have seen enough.
Soon, the crowd starts to break formation. You stop recording. They fall into a line behind Jeonghan, marching deeper into the forest.
You don’t move. You have seen enough for one night—if not your whole life.
With your heart shuddering in your chest and bile rising in your throat, you jog in the opposite direction, surrounded by weird noises of the night and rustles of leaves which sound like whispers of apparitions.
—
Two days later, you are back in the church with Chan.
The past two days have been tedious. After seeing everything firsthand, you had no desire to confront your brother, knowing full well it would go nowhere. You have also grown to be slightly afraid og him, of the new person he has become — unrecognizable and completely barren of all the childish glee you once associated with him.
You have not been in the best of health either, with a headache tormenting you every now and then. One of the reasons for that is Jeonghan. He has made a permanent home in your mind, plaguing your thoughts night and day, keeping you in a loop.
It is exhausting, frankly. You have grown to be almost apathetic, wishing you could just leave everything behind and drag Chan out of this place. You miss the days when he was a kid.
The sermon ends, and like the one before, you were too busy scowling at Jeoghan, thinking of all the ways you could crush him to the ground to pay any heed to the gospel.
Today, Jeonghan does not come to see Chan afterwards. Instead, he disappears amongst the crowd as they flow past you and out the door. Chan also leaves and you don’t bother stopping him, sitting silently at the pew and staring at the crucifix. The place suddenly seems haunted, an eerie quietness taking over the air, which was brimming with the murmurs of the crowd a few minutes ago.
Mindlessly, you walk towards the altar, taking in your surroundings carefully — from the statues and candlesticks to the Rose window, and the intricate details of the ceiling. As you turn back toward the entrance, a dark wooden confessional set into the side wall catches your eye — narrow and unobtrusive. Almost unconsciously, your feet carry you towards the booth and you hesitate for a second, your hands stopping an inch away from the door.
What are you doing here?
You glance above the confessional, and with no light glowing, you decide to step in and take a seat. Inside the cramped space, you remain frozen for a few moments, observing the silhouette of the figure on the other side of the screen.
“Peace be with you. You may begin when you are ready.” A quiet voice says from the other side.
“I…I don’t know what to say. It has been a while…” You whisper, fingers tightening on your lap, a part of you still wondering what possessed you to be here?
“What has been weighing on your heart? What ails you, my dear?”
You swallow, suddenly feeling emotional. Eyes focused on your shaky hands, you try to understand why you are so on edge. Was it only the recent events? Or was it the move in the first place? Or the fact that you had to leave behind a thriving job? Or the gruesome events that started this cursed chain in the first place?
You don’t know. The realization leaves you feeling helpless and frustrated. Your life has always been haunted — from the death of your mother when you were a child to the downward spiral of your father — everything has left you feeling bitter and exhausted. It is a bitter pill to swallow, bringing tears to your eyes.
All this struggle just to fail. You could not protect your brother. Maybe something is rotten in your blood—in this family’s blood.
Quiet sobs fill the confession booth. You try to stifle them, covering your mouth with your hands, only to realize, the harder you try, the louder they get. You were never the religious type. Neither was your father. The last time you stepped into a church before last week was when your mother was alive. You have never been inside a confession booth, but right now, this feels like the only place that is safe — that can ease your burdened heart.
Or so you thought.
The door on your side is suddenly pulled open. There stands Jeonghan, in all his evil glory. You yelp, springing up, “What are you doing? I am confessing!”
“You were taking a lot of time, so I came to see you.”
“Wait…” you gulp. “You were behind the screen? Are you even allowed to take confessions?”
He gives a noncommittal shrug, stepping into the booth. Your heart beats faster as he comes closer to you in the already limited space. Without any words, he reaches out to your face, wiping a teardrop with his thumb before licking it. “Don’t cry, sweetheart.”
You swallow, “Stop this, please.” In an attempt to get away from him, you press yourself against the wall, but he only leans closer. Your clothes touch.
“Stop what?”
You inhale a shaky breath. “I know it is you.”
There is a dramatic shift in his gaze. You try to assure yourself that it is the lighting, but for a second, you swear his eyes go pitch black, a sadistic look taking over. His voice, however, remains as gentle as before. “What do you mean?”
“It was you!” You cry. “You were in front of my house the other night! You have lured my brother into your goddamn cult! It has been you this entire time.”
With a slow tilt of his head, he regards you with special care. The smirk on his lips grows centimeter by centimeter, “Oh, my sweet, poor child. It is okay. You are just stressed.”
Baffled at his audacity, at him cosplaying a priest, you gape at him and he gently cradles your head, pushing you towards his chest. Embracing you, he gingerly strokes the back of your head. Then, his demeanour shifts and with his lips against your ear, he whispers, “A smart little raven, aren’t you?”
You flinch away from him. The look on his face is the embodiment of evil, making you shiver from head to toe. He is the devil incarnate.
“I swear to God—”
“Shhh,” he coos, pressing a finger against your lips and forcing you back into the wall, this time his body pressed against yours, effectively trapping you. “Hush, baby. It is okay. It will all be…okay.” He drawls, leaning towards your face. Taking you by sheer shock yet once again, he flicks out his tongue and drags it down your face, licking one side clean of all tears.
Your body reacts dangerously. You grow tense, your hands immediately forming fists, but a feeling blooms in your belly — something bordering on depravity and danger.
“You…” you grit your teeth, unable to find the right words. What can you do now? Scream? Cry? Slap him?
“Hush,” he shushes you again, holding his finger against your lip. “You are very stressed. So much so that you are imagining things. Let me help you out, hm?” His right hand touches your waist, before gently going south, feeling your thigh and then even lower. Grabbing onto your knee, he yanks your leg and wraps it around his waist, slipping his fingers under your skirt.
“You—” your voice is a mere squeak, mortified at what is happening. You are too stunned, barely even processing his actions.
“Be a good girl,” he hums, resting his face against yours, his lips almost touching yours but not quite, leaving the ghost of warmth lingering. You feel his hand cupping you underneath the skirt, fingers brushing over your panties before pushing them to a side. Then, he presses his thumb right where it throbs the most and your breath hitches.
“Jeonghan, please, stop—” he puts his palm on your mouth. Pushing you harder against the wall, he rests his body weight on top of you, slipping one finger inside you while his thumb rubs your nub. It is a shame to realize you are wet, and the feeling is amplified by the look of sheer victory on his face. His eyes sparkle like black diamonds, “My little raven is wet, isn’t she?”
“No, I am not!” is what you say, but that is muffled by his palm on your mouth. He tsks, giving you a scolding look. “Dirty girl, why are you all wet inside a confession booth, hm?”
His index finger moves in and out of you, making you shiver and whine, before he slips another finger inside you.
You don’t know what is wrong with you. He must have done something to you—yes, that is the only logical explanation. Your brain seems to have turned into mush, desire and a need for release overtaking every one of your senses until you are left as nothing but a needy mess. And the way he looks at you — looks through you unnerves you, taking your desire to new heights.
“Do you feel how wet you are?” He hums. “You are soaking, baby. Do you need me that much?” He grins, lips curving upwards to reveal his pearly whites. He has three fingers moving mercilessly inside you, while his thumb continues to torture your clit, which grows more and more sensitive. Your fingers dig into his shoulder, holding on for dear life while your toes curl in your loafers.
You are like a woman possessed. The only thing that you can think of — that matters right now is your release. And only he can give you that.
As if you were already not on edge enough, Jeonghan rests his head in the crook of your neck, his lips meeting your neck. He kisses and sucks, making his way upwards. “Does this feel good?” He whispers between kisses. Your answer, once again, remains muffled.
“I know it does,” he continues. “I can feel that way you are shaking. God, you are so perfect, aren’t you?”
His fingers push deeper inside of you, curling against your sensitive walls. You writhe and whimper against him, eyes rolling towards the back of your head as your vision starts to blur. You feel it coming — one more touch on your clit and you would be gone. It seems that he knows that too, which is why, suddenly, he pulls away from you, completely. His fingers pop out of your pussy, and he steps back from you, leaving you quivering against the wall, looking at him with the most pitiful eyes.
“Wait…no, please—” you pant, wild eyes gaping at him. No, please—what is he doing?
He smirks, making a sound of amusement and scoffing. Not breaking eye contact with you, he pops his fingers into his mouth and slowly, tantalizingly so, licks them clean. Then, he has the audacity to give you an innocent smile, “You are the sweetest, my raven. Absolute perfection.”
Pausing, he takes a look at your shaking legs. “I hope to see you again soon.”
Like a gust of spring breeze, he is gone, closing the door with a soft click.
—
The first thing you do after getting home is play with yourself.
You finally have your orgasm, but it feels nowhere near satisfactory, driving you to pure frustration. As you lie in your bed, staring at the ceiling, a haunting numbness engulfs you.
This feels like a losing game, going much farther than you had originally anticipated. You were supposed to get Chan out of this fucking mess, but now you are the one tangled deeper in it. For God’s sake, you were not supposed to let Jeonghan finger your pussy inside a church.
The memory makes heat rise to your face, and before you succumb to the endless pit of sinful temptation, you stop that thought.
It is time to make a decision.
—
That night, Chan returns home just after you finish dinner.
“Chan, come here.” You call out from the kitchen the moment he walks by. With a begrudging look on his face, he steps in while you finish doing the dishes. Inhaling a deep breath, you dry your hands and set the rag down before turning behind.
“We are leaving next week. Pack your things.”
He blinks. Slowly. For a moment, the only thing cutting through the silence is the ticking of the clock and the distant rumble of thunder outside.
“What did you say?”
“We are leaving.”
“What do you mean leaving?”
“It is exactly what you think. We are leaving this town. For good.”
He scoffs, raking a hand through his hair, “What the fuck are you talking about? Why would we leave? Did you get a new job or something?”
“It does not matter, Chan. I need you to pack your stuff.”
“Fuck no.” He hisses, eyes blazing.
“Excuse me?” You step closer to him.
“You are welcome to leave if you don’t like staying here. But I am not going anywhere. For fuck’s sake, I am an adult now. You cannot drag me wherever you please!”
Your nostrils flare. “Give me one good reason why you want to stay in this dead town.” You say quietly. Chan swallows, his defiant eyes locked with yours. Seconds tick by, and no response. You take another step closer to him. “Let me tell you why.” You come to a stand right in front of him. “Because you have been going around behind my back, joining fucking cults and doing god knows what in the dead of the night.” Your brother takes a step back, alarmed. You continue, seething, “Because you are enamoured by that fucking bastard Jeonghan. You hang onto his every word, going into the forest in the middle of the night, cutting your hand and making pacts. Do you think I am stupid? That I would never find out?”
A pause. Then he steps back, turning around as if he is done with this conversation.
“Don’t you dare walk away!” You cry. A thunder crashes nearby. “After everything I have done to protect you — after everything we have been through, how could you go and do something like this!”
“Exactly!” He yells, turning around. “After everything we have been through, this felt like the only right answer!”
“Have you lost your mind? Do you even know what you are saying?” You are incredulous.
“Oh, I am perfectly aware.” He grits his teeth, his face red, his eyes shining with unshed tears and anger. “You protected me? Don’t lie — you protected yourself. Everything you did, from all the lies to moving here, you did it to protect yourself and your reputation!”
You open your mouth to refute but his voice grows louder. “You were the one to turn away first. After everything happened, you treated me like a monster! It was you, not anyone else! You created a gap between us, avoiding me and then acting like everything was okay.”
“I did it to make you feel comfortable!”
“You made me feel like a monster! Like there was something actually wrong with me!” Chan starts pacing around, a hand grabbing onto his hair out of frustration. “Even after we moved here, you would go to the library early in the morning and come home late. You abandoned me. But it was with Jeoghan that I felt like I belonged.”
“You have lost your mind.” You whisper.
“So be it.” He seethes. “So what if I am in a cult? What is it to you? You made your decisions and I made mine. At least over there, I am not treated like a monster.”
“You are brainwashed.”
“Shut up!” He bellows. “Just shut up! You know nothing. You understand nothing. Over there, it is friendship, brotherhood, belonging.”
“Are you saying that you don’t belong here — with me? We are a family, for God’s sake.” You croak, tears gathering in your eyes.
He pauses. For a long moment, he gazes into your eyes. “It never once felt like home. Not with dad, not with you. But in that fucking cult, as you like to call it, it feels so.”
“Chan, please—”
“I am staying here.” He announces, stepping away. “And I am done talking to you. Don’t show me your face again.” He hisses before marching towards his room, shutting the door with a loud bang.
By now, it is pouring outside.
—
In the midst of the storm and the pouring rain, the church stands in all its glory, soft, warm light emanating from the windows. For a place so holy, it feels haunted, something eerie hanging in the air — the raindrops trickling down the structure, the spire shining even in the darkness of the night.
Standing in front of the towering architecture, you briefly wonder how you came to be here. After the argument with Chan, you stepped outside and, almost unconsciously, your feet had carried you here. Your mind draws a blank on the journey, as if you opened your eyes and were transported here from your kitchen.
What were you supposed to do again?
Ah, right.
You are here with a goal.
Soaked from head to toe, you push open the doors and step inside, the warmth of the air a sharp contrast against your sopping figure. You continue straight ahead, towards the altar, your footsteps leaving behind marks of water and a wet, squeaky sound. The man you are here for is right there.
What is this if not divine will?
Jeoghan, who was crouching at the altar, busy lighting candles, turns around and tilts his head in confusion. “When I said I would see you soon, I did not mean this soon.”
In silence, you continue your way towards him. He stands up, setting the candle down. His gaze shifts more towards concern than amusement as he takes in your drenched, dishevelled look.
“Are you okay?” He asks, inching towards you. Still silent, you march towards him, stepping into the altar and in the blink of an eye, you charge at him, the hand carrying the knife aimed straight at his heart. “I am going to kill you, you fucking lunatic!”
Jeonghan — as surprised as he is — catches your wrist in time, ensuing a struggle. You grit your teeth, using all your strength to try to accomplish your goal while he prevents you from doing so. With one hand, he holds your wrists away and uses the other to dig into your shoulder, pulling you downwards. Even in this dire situation, he has the balls to laugh. “Holy shit, baby. With all this bloodthirst, maybe you should have been a cult leader.”
“Shut up, you son of a bitch,” you seethe, trying your utmost best to push the knife into his chest using both hands. He, however, overpowers, pulling your wrist downwards — lower and lower — until it hurts so bad that you drop the knife.
Immediately, he kicks it away. With another cry of fury, you charge at him, this time aiming to wrap your hands around his throat. He, however, blocks your grip and smoothly grabs both of your hands, flipping you around, and pins them behind you. “As much as I love this crazy side of you, you need to stop, little raven,” he pants in your ear.
“You…” you inhale deeply, struggling to get free. “You are an evil, depraved man. You make me sick.”
“No, I don’t.” He announces, unfazed and calm. “I do not make you sick, ___. In fact, I make you curious. I intrigue you.” He pulls your body even closer, the wetness of your skin now soaking into his clothes. “I know you think about me. All the time. Especially at night.” His sultry voice drips into your ears, each slowly enunciated word making its mark on you. He uses a hand to lift your chin and make you look at him. The faint smile on his face grows bigger — slow but deliberate, like he has all the time in the world. His gaze lowers — tracing your quivering lips like he is memorizing every single fracture in your resolve.
You are gone. There is no escaping him. He is inside your head. He has been there for a while.
Still, you hiss. “I don’t.” Another attempt to free your wrists. “I swear to God, Jeoghan, I will kill you.”
“Oh, baby,” he shakes his head, “Have we not moved past that? You could never kill me. After all, who will make you cum when I am gone?”
“You—”
“Tell me, sweetheart, did you go home and touch yourself? Did it feel good? Did you wish it were me playing with you?”
“I didn’t, you asshole!”
He makes a sound of disapproval. “Does that mean, if I touch you between your legs now, I will not find you wet?” A shiver runs down your spine at his words, and you tell yourself it is because you got soaked in the rain. “Shall we check?” He hums lazily, slowly sneaking his hand towards the string of your trousers.
“Jeoghan, no—”
“Calm down, my raven.” He whispers in your ear. With the string undone, he easily shoves his hand inside, cupping you through your underwear.
“Jeoghan, please—” He pushes aside your panties and slips a finger in. And it is like a deja vu. Why do you always end up like this with him?
Against your ear, you feel him chuckle, “See? You are all bark and no bite.”
You shake, a feeling of frustration, disgust, anger and helplessness coursing through you at the same time, “You are disgusting. You are a filthy, wretched scum of the earth,” your voice comes out quiet and slightly breathless. They seem to carry some weight, however, as Jeoghan stops, his body tensing behind you.
“What did you say?”
“You heard me the first time.” You state, using the moment to push free from his grip and take a few steps back. He continues to regard you with a look of serious inquisitiveness.
“You are a coward. You prey on innocent, vulnerable people like my brother for your stupid fucking rituals and whatnot. God — do you not realize how pathetic you look?” You don’t hold back, letting the waves of anger wash over you. In silence, Jeoghan continues to watch you, his gaze calculating but somber. “You wound my feelings, you know.” He finally murmurs, his gaze drifting around the church, as if he is an inspector.
“Oh yeah? The truth is bitter, is it not?”
He chuckles, shaking his head. “You are wrong about one thing, my raven. I do not prey on people.” He pauses, a dark, almost predatory glint appearing in his eyes. “I help them.”
You roll your eyes.
“I help people by giving them a place to belong. I hear them out. I listen to their stories and then offer them friendship and fraternity.”
“You manipulate them.”
“No.” He states, voice rising an octave. He is his usual composed self but you hear the grit and determination in his words. “I make them feel seen, heard, and understood.” A pause and a growing smirk. “Unlike you, who failed to do that with your brother.”
There is a sinking feeling in your stomach. “What did you just say?” Your voice is quiet.
He laughs, dragging his fingertips across the pews in careful observation. “After everything your brother went through…you should have taken better care of him, sweetheart.” His tone is loaded with mockery.
You stagger back a step, the air in your lungs completely dissipating. He takes another slow, relaxed step forward, “I mean, the poor kid killed his father. Can you imagine the trauma?” He shakes his head in a faux display of pity. The world has started to spin around you. “How…” you pant, suddenly not getting enough oxygen in your system. “H-how do you know about that?”
“Chan told me.” He shrugs.
“Lies!” You cry.
He stares at you — deadpan. You know it in the depths of your soul that he is indeed saying the truth, but it takes everything in you to come to terms with it. With the fact that your brother shared such a grave secret, and that too with Jeonghan. This diabolical man has you captive now — he had been for a while.
Oh God, please let this be a nightmare.
“He would never!” You bellow, voice shaking, tears brimming in your eyes. “He…he would never. He promised me.”
Jeoghan sighs dramatically, taking another step towards you while you take another one back. “It is a truly burdensome thing to keep to yourself, you know? And it is all good, it was ruled as self-defence.” He pauses. You interpret the look in his eyes as one of challenge. “You were the witness, after all. And he was still a minor. And your father had a long, infamous history of abuse.” He pauses and raises a fist towards his neck, “Gone with a stab in the neck. Bam!” He makes a gesture of a stab, the smirk in his face turning into a cruel grin. “I mean, he deserved it, after everything he did to you guys. Tell me — is it really true that your mother committed suicide because of him?”
Bile rises to your throat. Your nervous system is on the edge of shutting down, each word spilling from his mouth hitting your skin like acid. Suddenly, you feel useless and betrayed, your entire life feeling like a joke to you. Especially your life here in this town. It seems like you have been playing the role of a jester for Jeonghan for a while now.
Turns out, you are the pathetic one, not him.
Unable to shoulder the shock any longer, your knees give out. Falling onto the ground, you sit in a puddle of wetness and murmur, “How could he do that to me? How could he share those things with you? How could he?”
“I have that ability, you know. To make people say things. To make them confess. I could do that to you right now. Should I?”
His words fall on deaf ears as your frame continues shaking with sobs. Jeonghan takes slow, deliberate steps towards you, his footsteps leaving a haunting echo. “I already know what is in your heart.”
You remain mute, panting, tears streaming down your face.
“Should I say it for you, my raven?” He comes to a stand in front of you. Takes you in with dark eyes, in which a fire has been ignited, one of victory and possession. A soft hand brushes the hair away from your face before gently cupping the side of your face and tilting your head upwards. “You want me. You want to belong to me. You want me to the point you hate yourself.”
You bite your lip, fresh tears gushing down from your eyes. “Stop, please.” Your voice is barely a whisper.
“Oh, baby,” he coos, resting on one knee to come to your eye level. “It is okay. You just need to stop lying to yourself. Stop punishing yourself.”
You are not in this world anymore. You feel and hear nothing, your soul shrinking back and hiding itself in a shell. From this point on, nothing matters except the fact that you failed your brother in more ways than one.
Producing a handkerchief from his pocket, Jeonghan uses it to wipe your tears and the droplets of rain beading down from your wet hair. Dabbing the linen across your face with utmost care, he says, “It is time for you to give in, my raven. Give in to me and see how good you feel. I can heal you.”
For a long, long moment, you stare at him, your blank gaze focused on his face, observing every little detail — the bumps and the moles on his skin. “Just kill me.” You whisper after a while.
Jeonghan stops. He blinks before dropping the handkerchief. Seconds pass by — one, two, three before you suddenly feel his fingers wrapped around your throat, squeezing you.
The air lightens, your vision gets blurry.
“You want me to do this?” He grits. “You want me to squeeze that pretty life out of your body?” Your head hurts, and in a half-hearted attempt, you hold his wrists, unsure whether you truly want him to continue or stop.
Jeonghan, however, has his plans and with his fingers around your neck, he yanks you closer, wrapping an arm around your lower back and smashing his lips with yours.
He ravages your mouth while you feel light-headed. And it is a euphoric feeling. You let go of all your body weight, letting him hold you.
And he does. His hand lets go of your throat to yank your jacket off of you, the sopping material sprinkling droplets of water as it comes off of you. His lips continue to be against yours, his tongue in your mouth, depriving you of your breath in another way. At the same time, his hands work, feeling your arms, your back, your shoulders, pulling at your flimsy tank top.
“You want me to kill you, pretty girl?” He snarls against your lips. “Why would I do that, hm? I could do so much worse to you by keeping you alive and with me.”
He rips your tank top off your skin in the next moment.
Already cold from the rain, your naked body shivers. “Poor baby, are you cold?” He whispers, engulfing you in his arms, kissing you once again while his fingers find home around your neck. His body guards yours, pulling you impossibly close, touching every inch of your bare skin while he kisses you as if his life depends on it. You feel like a puppet, pliant and mindless, giving into this inescapable madness, some part deep in you already accepting and even craving it.
Shit, what is wrong with you?
You don’t get to contemplate the answer as he is pushing you down, pressing your back flat against the church floor, his body on top of yours. Lips still interconnected, one of his hands crawls down, touching you between your legs. Pushing your panties aside, he thrusts two of his fingers inside you and makes a grunt of satisfaction at how easily his digits slip in due to your arousal.
“Oh god.” You cry, eyes falling closed as you feel his fingers move in and out of you with ease, hitting the perfect spot each time. You shudder, fingers gripping his shoulders. Next to your lips, he whispers, “There is no god here, little raven. Only me.”
He flicks your clit and you erupt in a loud moan. “So say my name. Scream it.” Paired with the movement of his fingers and the scalding way he keeps looking at you, you know you’re not very far from your release. Some fragmented part of your mind vaguely registers how embarrassing this is but by now, you have gone past the point of caring.
Because he is everywhere, his touch is everywhere — fingers inside you, lips on your jaw, neck and breasts. Biting, licking, marking.
He speeds up the movement of his fingers, and you hiss, “Jeonghan…please—”
He chuckles. “Gonna cum, sweetheart? So quickly? Is this evil bastard making you feel so good?”
“Yes…please,” you whimper, squeezing your eyes shut, grabbing onto his body like he is your lifeline. With each second, you feel the delicious, exhilarating release building and building, your toes curling from pleasure and anticipation.
“Come then. Wet my fingers with your sweet juice. His filthy words make you cry out loud, his thumb brushing over your clit, rubbing it swiftly and sending you over the edge, face-first into your orgasm. It shakes your limbs as you lie there pressed underneath his weight, feeling it wash over you, your pussy spasming repeatedly while he keeps playing with you throughout your high. When you finally feel the last of your orgasm ebb away and your mind starts functioning again, Jeonghan pulls his fingers out of you, dripping in your essence and licks his digits clean, never wavering eye contact with you.
On top of you, he looks like God. Or the incarnation of pure evil — you are not sure. Whatever it is, you can no longer deny him. You shiver, whether due to his gaze or from the cold, you don’t know. You don’t know anything anymore.
Jeonghan's eyes lazily drag across your face, taking in every detail. “I am just getting started with you, baby.” He hums, tracing his wet index finger upwards, from your belly button to your nipple to your collarbone and then stopping at your throat. “I love seeing my marks on you,” he mutters almost to himself, no doubt referring to his fingerprints around your neck. “I am going to mark every inch of you, little raven. Mark my words.”
In the blink of an eye, his hands move, grabbing onto the waist of your trousers and dragging them down, pulling them off of you completely along with your panties. You lie beneath him, completely at his mercy and without a stitch on your skin.
With a grin matching that of the devils, he works on the buttons of his pants, finally freeing his cock, which had created a tent in his pants. Thick, curved, and leaking, it shoots a maddening flame of desire from your belly to right between your legs. No one has ever made you feel this way — this depraved and desperate, being led on by a mind-numbing arousal. Unable to look away, you swallow, not finding much to say, sweaty palms pressed against the hardwood floor in anticipation of sin.
“Dirty little girl,” he flashes his teeth, eyes sparkling with desire and mischief. “Don’t you know it is rude to stare?”
“I—”
“Hush, now. Take a deep breath.” He warns, making himself comfortable on top of you before lining up his length with your pussy and pushing in with a harsh thrust. A small, breathless squeak floats past your lips at the intrusion and the fullness, your hands immediately reaching out to latch onto Jeonghan’s shoulders. On top of you, the man pants, a quiet grunt coming from him as he thrusts deep inside you.
“Fuck,” his body shudders. “You are so tight and wet, little raven.” He huffs, pausing for a second, your walls clenched tight around him, before pulling out and pushing in all the way. The sounds your pussy makes are mortifying, leaving behind a wet squelch at his movements, your body quietly shaking at his intrusions.
“Please,” you find yourself begging for something you are unaware of. Jeonghan, who has built up a steady pace by now, leans back slightly to get a better look at your face. “Feels good, baby?”
You shake your head, delirious.
“Of course it does,” he pants. His hands wrap around your neck, fingers molding around your soft skin the way they did before. “You love to act all high and mighty. But you are just a slut, aren’t you? You like getting this cunt pounded by me, no?”
He increases his pace and your eyes fall closed, mindless whimpers and moans coming out of your mouth. “Answer me, whore!” He seethes and then lands a slap on your cheek. Wide eyed, you stare at him, panting, the skin he just hit stinging deliciously.
“Fuck,” he grins, diabolical. “You just got tighter around me. You like me slapping you?”
You are breathless, still too dumbfounded by his action and your reaction. And without giving you enough time to process the first one, he lands another slap on your other cheek, and this time you feel yourself clenching around him.
Fuck.
“God damn it, baby,” he grunts. “Aren’t you a dirty little pain slut?”
You make a pathetic noise, somewhere between an agreement and a sob.
“Answer me, slut!” Another slap.
“Yes!” You cry. “I love it, Jeonghan!”
The man almost growls at your words, going into a frenzy. He doesn’t hold back, pulling out almost all the way before snapping his hips back in, making your body arch. He holds his place, letting you feel every pulsing inch of him. “Fuck!” You hiss, legs shaking. Jeonghan smiles lazily at your reaction, his hips moving again, slowly at first, then increasing, the thrusts hitting you so deep each time you feel like he’s inside your belly. Leaning down, his mouth trails over your neck, littering open-mouthed kisses before they travel towards your breasts, capturing a nipple into his mouth. You mewl in pleasure.
His tongue teases your nipple, circling the hard bud before he gives it a harsh suck and then finishes off with a soft bite. He does the same to your other breast while you writhe below him, all the nerves of your body on fire, searching desperately for a release.
“You are a temptress, little raven,” he hums against your breast, gently biting a nipple while one of his hands crawls downwards to find your clit. The bundle of nerves is swollen and sensitive, immediately making you cry out. “Please—I wanna cum!”
“Oh yeah, my slut?” Letting go of your nipple with a pop, he gazes at you, unblinking, while his fingers continue playing with your clit. “Beg for it. Beg for me to fill your dirty hole up.”
“P-please, Jeonghan. Please…let me cum. Oh–fuck…harder.” You babble, head lost in a cloud of pleasure as you feel every inch of his dick brand itself into your walls. The pleasure makes your head spin and you know you have to come soon. Otherwise, you just might go insane.
“Such an obedient slut,” he says and increases his pace even more, drilling into your swollen cunt, rough breaths falling from his lips. One of his hands continues to toy with your clit while the other pinches your nipple harshly and you wail. “Jeonghan!”
You finally taste your release. In the blink of an eye, the coil in your belly snaps and fireworks shoot throughout your body as you reach your peak, body trembling underneath him, toes curled, eyes rolled to the back of your head. “Yes, good girl. Come for your master.” He hisses, leaning down to nibble on your neck, feeling your deathly grip on his cock, your warm, wet walls spasming around him.
Absolutely cock-drunk, you feel nothing, transported into a world of bliss, from which you are dragged out rather quickly when he whispers in your ear, “You are going to give me another one, baby.”
You’re too lost to even process his words but your body moves to action, another orgasm already building up as he starts to build up his tireless pace again. Jeonghan’s soft grunts increase as he rubs your wet pussy mercilessly, his thrusts now faltering. “Fuck. Gonna cum, soon, little raven. Gonna fill you up. Beg me. Beg for my seed.”
“Jeonghan…please,” you slur, brain riddled with the torturous sensation on your clit and inside your pussy. It is heaven and hell at the same time. You are too sensitive for another orgasm but at the same time, you need it like your next breath. “Fill me up…” you mumble, lying flat on your back and surrendering your body to him. You are his to play with, to do as he pleases.
“Open your mouth,” Jeonghan orders quietly. Huh? You don’t really think before doing as he says and in the next second, a glob of spit drops into your mouth. Face on fire, you stare at the haunting man on top of you. He grins, “Fuck. You are perfect, you know that?” One hand comes to tenderly stroke your face. “Swallow it like a good girl.”
You do so. Jeonghan throws his head back in a groan, muttering curses underneath his breath. “Fuck, baby. I am gonna fill you up so good. Put my child in and never let you leave.”
His words start to unravel you. Your body goes tense and with one more flick of his finger on your clit, you reach your second orgasm, messy and merciless as your pleasure crashes into you like waves. In between a mess of tears and drool, you feel Jeonghan spill inside you at the same time, his warm seed filling you up, and then leaking out of your spent hole. Your legs shake even after you sense him pull out as white spots dance in your vision, your brain completely reduced to mush.
Jeonghan’s body slumps onto yours, his chest heaving against yours while you lie beneath him and try to get enough air into your lungs. You stare straight ahead, at the ceiling of the church, which stretches skyward in pale stone arches. Candlelight trembles along the curves of the ceiling, making the shadows dance hauntingly. Faded frescoes bloom between the ribs — angels with solemn faces, wings outstretched, their eyes turned eternally toward heaven. Yet for a second, you feel as if their eyes are set straight at you — defiled and used, lying on the church floor with the man who led her to sin.
Oddly, you do not feel any guilt, only acceptance. And even relief.
—
The storm continues raging outside—now stronger than before. A thunder lands somewhere nearby, leaving behind an ear-deafening sound.
You flinch in Jeonghan’s arms, your naked body pressed against his clothed one.
Your head rests against his shoulder, your face turned aside, your eyes staring at nothing. His fingers stroke your back in a mindless pattern.
Another crash of thunder.
“It is okay, my raven.” The man assures, voice dripping with care, like he is talking to a child in agony. “I have got you now. You will be just fine. You will be just fine.”
You swallow and close your eyes. Your hands wrap around his waist.
You will be just fine.
For a bonus, extra special scene, click here or head over to my Patreon! This work will be cross-posted on AO3.
A/N 2: whew, so that was that lol. idk what possessed me to write that filth but ik for a fact Hannie would be the best cult leader and he would have managed to rope me in his schemes. anyway, thank you for reading till the end, i hope you enjoyed it! please leave your thoughts in the comments or in my ask box! always happy to talk more about my fics <33
on a different note, I am kinda wondering if I should start writing fics about other groups. to be very specific, on Ateez's San. I have been listening to them on and off since their debut and recently, I have developed the phattest crush on San so my hands are lowkey itching to write a fic on him (that man is fine af, okay). anyway, just sharing a thought, maybe I will write a drabble first and see how the response it. but yeah, i will stop yapping now! have a great day wherever you are!!
synopsis ➳ you broke up with him on a storm-soaked night, uttering words you can never take back. five years later, in a foreign country, fate places him in your path again. suddenly, he is a client of your company and you have to work with him. nevermind that he absolutely hates you. nevermind the unsaid things that lay beneath.
genre ➳ e2l, ex high school sweethearts, ANGST, smut.
wc ➳ 11k + 600 (patreon bonus)
warnings ➳ toxic relationship, cheol is an ass, reader is lowkey depressed, a LOT of miscommunication, drinking, bar violence, classism, dysfunctional family, mention of a motorcycle accident, mention of alcoholism, heavy make outs, hate sex, female degradation, marking, unprotected sex, bathroom sex, no aftercare.
a/n: if I fumbled Seungcheol, I'd straight up kms. 😔
A punch comes flying from your left, hitting the creep hard on the nose and sending him to the floor with a loud thud.
“Fuck!” He yells, cupping his nose.
“She clearly said no. Multiple times.” The deep voice booms from behind you, and it feels hauntingly familiar. Your entire body freezes, and you cannot bring yourself to turn around, petrified of the face that awaits you.
You are suddenly more terrified of a mere voice than a drunk stranger forcing you to go home with him. It’s because this voice comes with so many memories; memories that haunt you every day, and you shove them down only for them to spring back up when you are alone in your bed at night.
The man comes to stand next to you, peering at your face in the low lights of the bar. “Are you okay?”
You had a couple of drinks, so in the back of your mind, you were praying that your tipsiness had you mistaken. That hope is crushed when you look up at him, your eyes locking with his. The man’s face changes, recognition setting in, and almost instinctively, he takes a step back.
“Seungcheol.” You whisper, uttering the name you have not dared to whisper in almost five years.
—
5 YEARS AGO
“I think that it is best that we break up.” You announce, your voice louder than usual, so that he can hear you through the pouring rain. Your boyfriend stands in front of you, soaked to his bones, and it takes all of your self-control not to extend the umbrella over his head and usher him inside your shabby little dorm.
No, you need to be cruel tonight.
“I don’t understand,” he pleads, his eyes frantically searching for yours. “What did I do wrong?”
You love me. You love me too much, Seungcheol.
“I don’t like you anymore. You are so...burdensome.” You hiss, trying your level best to keep your voice steady. “You know I am going abroad to get my degree. This won’t work anyway.” You grip the handle of the umbrella tightly with both hands, directing all your energy at the flimsy plastic.
“You are joking, right?” He whispers, but you hear him. You vividly see the desperation in his eyes despite the darkness of the night, and you wish he knew how much worse you feel.
Gathering all your resolve, you take a step back. “Delete my number, Seungcheol. Don’t contact me again. I thought I owed you this much. Goodbye.”
You don’t stop, you don’t look back. You don’t know how he looked as he watched you leave, and you are thankful for that. You could not bear to see him in any more pain. More than that, you are glad he cannot see you, your crumbling facade as big droplets of tears rolled down your cheeks.
—
The bouncer escorts the drunk creep away after Mingyu, Seungcheol’s friend—once upon a time, your friend too—explained the situation.
You and Seungcheol are yet to speak to each other, quietly watching the yelling man get escorted outside.
You should leave.
Your feet are frozen, however, and you are not sure what the best way is to get out of here. Should you just run outside and not look back? Or should you strike up a conversation before leaving?
“Well, look who it is.” Seungcheol decides to speak finally. With every passing second, his lips curve into something sharper than a smile, his eyes laced with venom and delight.
Yeah, this is not going to end well. Then again, what did you expect?
“Hi.” You whisper, looking away. The less you speak, the better.
Seconds pass. He keeps staring at you like a hawk before bursting into a belly laugh of mockery. “Really? Hi? That’s all you have to say after so many years?”
“I think I should leave.” You state, your voice firmer. Avoiding his eyes, you step past him to get your purse from the stool, ready to dash for the door.
“You haven’t changed, have you?” He asks, his voice deep and grave, stopping you in your tracks. “Always the coward. Running away. Go on, run away, little sheep. That's the only thing you can do.”
You turn your head to look at him. His eyes flash with hatred and mischief, his cruel smirk turning into a nasty, predatory grin, laced with tipsiness as he shifts his weight from foot to foot.
He is drunk. He is picking a fight with you. You need to leave.
Mingyu comes at his side, making sure he does not lose his balance. His friend’s eyes meet yours, apologetic, nonverbally telling you to just leave for the better. You turn away with determined steps.
“For fucks sake!” His voice booms, garnering attention from others. You are once again forced to look at him. His droopy stature and the haziness in his eyes tell you he is drunk, and you know drunk Seungcheol very well. That is when he becomes his most stubborn self.
“The least you can do is thank me!” He yells, his body leaning forward as Mingyu struggles to stabilize him. “Hyung, please.” He whispers, getting him to stand upright. From somewhere, a woman comes rushing, immediately putting her hands on Seungcheol to check on him. Blond hair, tall, thin, and pretty—you get the message.
With one last look at Seungcheol, you walk out of the bar.
—
On Monday morning, your supervisor, Daisy, steps into the office a little late, but she has that smile plastered on her face that tells you good news awaits.
Looks like she has finally secured the deal.
Last week, she announced that the company has a chance of taking on a very big client, and judging by the look on her face right now, you can tell that the client is secured. On any other day, you would be brimming with excitement to know who this VIP client is finally, but after the happenings of Saturday night, a perpetual gloom has overtaken you.
You should not have gone for a drink that night.
The memories of Seungcheol still linger, stitched to your skin and carved in your mind, leaving you restless ever since. One thought leads to another, and before you know it, your mind is occupied by the thought of him only. It is a vicious cycle.
It is not fair. Why did you have to bump into him out of all the people in the world? And why did it have to be a bar thousands of miles away from home? What was he even doing there? Should he not be back home in Seoul? He has a business to run after all.
From beside you, Seungkwan, your co-worker pipes up, “What has got you smiling like that this morning, boss?”
Daisy laughs. “Our client is on the way, folks. Meeting room in five minutes.” She points at you, Seungkwan, and Yoona. “You three are on the team with me.”
“I see you are still keeping the suspense.” Yoona pouts.
“You bet,” she winks, sitting down at her desk. You smile, watching your coworker’s reaction as you gather your notebook, pens and other necessary documents before heading to the meeting room.
As Seungkwan sets up the projector, Daisy takes a seat opposite you on the meeting table, keeping the head chair empty.
“What’s wrong with you?” She asks, setting down her tablet, her gaze narrowed at you. “Normally, you would be the most enthusiastic. Is everything okay?”
You sit up straighter and clear your throat. “Yeah…I just did not have a good night’s sleep.” You reply. She does not seem convinced, but decides not to push you further.
Five minutes later, Choi Seungcheol walks into the meeting room.
—
The project is a market expansion campaign.
Choi Industries is now looking to enter the European market, and to get the job done, it seems they found your marketing firm to be the perfect ally. This is your worst nightmare—no, something worse than your worst nightmare. What cruel ploy of fate would lead to this, you and he working together in a foreign land?
The meeting is tedious and painfully slow.
You do your best not to make eye contact with Seungcheol or even look in his direction. Of course, that does not mean you do not feel his eyes on you, and you know for a fact he is plotting ways to get to you. The first blow comes as the meeting rolls to an end. Seungcheol directs the words towards Daisy. “Did you know that Miss ___ and I went to the same high school?”
“Really?” Your boss regards you with surprise. Suddenly, all the eyes in the room are on you. You shift uncomfortably in your seat, your pleading gaze directed at Seungcheol. He continues, “We were really close friends. Really close.”
You feel faint. Under your breath, you mumble, “Not that close, really.”
Daisy is happy. “Well, that makes this project much more fun. I’m sure we will all work together well and make this a successful campaign!”
Seungkwan and Yoona nod, sharing their agreement, while you sit with your head low, praying that this is all just a very, very bad dream. Your boss calls your name, prompting you to snap your head up. “I have another meeting now. Why don’t you see Seungcheol to his car?”
What?
“Me?” You blink, terrified. Your eyes meet his for a brief second, and judging by the look in them, you know he was waiting for an opportunity like this. An opportunity to devour you whole and spit out the bones.
“Yes, you,” Daisy repeats. With a hard swallow, you nod, quietly trailing behind Seungcheol towards the VIP elevator. The moment the doors close and the metal box starts descending, you feel your stomach drop.
He turns to look at you, eyes shining dangerously. “What a coincidence, huh?”
You stand mute, pressed against the elevator wall, trying to put as much distance between the two of you as possible.
“This is going to be so much fun,” he hums, a smirk taking over his lips as he steps closer to you. Slowly. One step after the other. The air thins, and your nostrils fill up with the smell of his cologne. It seems faintly familiar, a mixture of bergamot and citrus. It is distracting and alluring. It becomes increasingly difficult to find your words and then—
A hand snakes around your waist, pulling you tight against his body. Then, his lips are on yours.
The kiss is brutal. It almost feels like a punishment, hard and merciless, but also addictive. His body pressed against yours, his hands in your hair as he devours your mouth like it is his last meal. You give in to the desire, meeting his tongue with yours, equally wanton until your brain finally snaps back to reality, and the logical part of your brain starts to go back online. With a harsh grip on his chest, you push him away, panting for air. “Shit. We…we should not have done that. You—you have a girlfriend.”
You cringe at yourself. Really, that's the first reason you give?
Seungcheol’s thick brows knot into confusion. “I saw the woman that day in the bar. The blonde,” You wipe your lips as you explain. Yep, your lipstick is smudged, and you probably look like a clown.
Seungcheol smirks. “Look at you all worried. She’s a fling. I don’t do girlfriends. Not after what you did to me.” The look in his eyes shifts, and you have to take in a deep, shuddering breath to find your voice back. “Anyway, we are working together now, and that—that was highly unprofessional.”
“Don’t look at me like that.. Like it was only me.” He licks his lips, taking a step closer to you. “You were practically eating me up like a touch-starved whore.” His eyes darken as his lips form a flat, thin line. “It was a one-time thing. Don’t expect that to happen again.”
The elevator doors open with a soft ding, and he marches away without wasting another breath, leaving you absolutely dumbfounded. You stand rooted in your place, infuriated at his audacity but the sear of his kiss leaves behind a maddening tingle on your lips.
—
As the week goes by, the project starts to take its baby steps, and you are thankful that Seungcheol does not drop by again. His secretary shows up throughout the week for updates and monitoring, letting you work in peace with your colleagues.
You cannot imagine seeing him again after kissing him in the elevator. And the audacity of that man! Telling you not to expect it again, as if he did not initiate the kiss, and acting like you were begging him for it!
Ultimately, that kiss has earned Seungcheol a permanent space in your head; thoughts of him following you around all day and all night like a shadow. You find yourself zoned out or daydreaming, every now and then, during lunch or a tea break, earning suspicious looks from your coworkers.
The more excuses you give, the more suspicious they get. You have worked with them for a while, and they know something is up with you. Thankfully, none of them has figured anything out yet. But the way Seungcheol has been behaving, you doubt it will take them long to connect the dots.
—
On Friday, you are the last one to leave the office. As you pack up your belongings, ready to get home, Daisy calls you.
“Hey, I just received your mail for the moodboard. It looks great. I think we can go ahead with it.”
“Lovely,” you stifle a yawn as you sling your bag over your shoulder.
“Are you still in the office? Seungkwan said you would be working late.”
“Yes…why?”
“Please do me a favour and get a copy to Seungcheol right away. Get his approval tonight so that we can get started from next week,” Daisy announces. You still, your fingers tightening around your phone.
“Wait, why do we need his approval?”
“Come on, ___. You have seen how sensitive he is. He has a reputation for being nitpicky; it runs in the family. I’m sure he won’t say no. It’s just a formality. I know it’s late, but he lives nearby. I will give you the address. I would have done it myself, but I am an hour away.”
A dejected sigh escapes your lips as you pinch the bridge of your nose, dreading approaching Seungcheol with the storyboard. “I don’t think I can do this.” You whisper to yourself.
“What’s gotten into you?” Daisy asks from the other end. “Normally, you are so confident in your work, ___. What's going on?"
“I guess I am just tired.”
“You can have a nice, long break after this project,” she assures.
“Right. Thanks.” You mumble.
—
It is almost 9 in the evening when you reach the mansion that Seungcheol is staying at. You don’t know if it is his family property or if he is renting it, but either way, it screams luxury. A butler receives you at the front door, guiding you down the long, warmly lit and polished corridor, tints of gold, brown and cream surrounding the space.
You are led to a small living area next to a library, and as you step in, you find Seungcheol bent over the pool table, his eyes razor sharp as he takes a shot. Next to him stands Mingyu with a cue stick in one hand and a glass of whiskey in another. As the balls scatter across the table, he sighs, “Looks like you are winning this one, Choi.”
Seungcheol smirks, reaching for his own glass of whiskey, gulping it down all at once. You are frozen in your spot, your eyes transfixed on the uninterrupted view of his flexing biceps thanks to the tank top he is wearing.
Suddenly, your throat is dry and you have forgotten what you came here for. Damn it, you should have taken the butler’s offer of having something to drink.
Mingyu is the first one to spot you, snapping you back to reality. “___?” He calls, his voice somewhat confused.
“Hi,” you give him an awkward smile as Seungcheol turns around. His face falls, a frown forming in his brows as his eyes land on you. You continue, worried that you would stumble over your words, “I needed Seungcheol’s approval for the ad storyboard.”
“Great. You guys chat. I’ll get you something to drink. What do you want?”
The strongest of whiskey would not be enough right now. “Tea would be lovely,” you smile at him. With a nod, the taller man steps away, leaving you and Seungcheol alone in the room. Instantly, the place is shrouded with a thick blanket of tension, eerily quiet and suffocating.
Seungcheol gazes at you for a few seconds before going back to his game, ignoring you like you are not standing right there. “I’m busy,” he announces.
Oh god.
“I understand. It’ll only take five minutes.”
He rolls his eyes with a huff, marches over to you to snatch the file out of your hands and roughly flips the pages. Not even ten seconds later, he tosses the file on the coffee table and resumes his game. “Yeah, this won’t work.”
He has to be kidding right now.
“Seungcheol, please. The least you can do is be a tad bit serious about this. It is for your company.” You plead, unamusedly watching him focus on aiming at the cue ball on the pool table. He takes the shot and, after a satisfied hum, says, “I know. And I am very serious about this. Which is why I am telling you, it needs to be redone.”
“No, it does not, Seungcheol. You did not even take a good look at it.”
“Or maybe you are not that good at your job as you think you are.” He hums casually. “I’m sure it is a hard pill for you to swallow, since you are so used to being the best since high school. Best student, best debater—oh, I heard you won the employee of the month last month. Congratulations for that, by the way, but it looks like the same won’t happen this month.”
His words burn. They are like ice picks on your skin and you know he knows. He is deliberately hitting you where it hurts.
You never had much in life. Your academic accomplishments have been your everything, and you have carried that dedicated, hardworking mindset to your workplace. So far, the response has been good, and more than that, you don’t need anyone to tell you how good you are at your job.
You know you are.
“You are being unprofessional, you know?” You decide to be civil, placing the files on the nearby coffee table. “You’re bringing up old things that are not related to this project. I’m afraid I need to remind you to keep your personal and professional life separate.”
His body freezes. You see his jaws clench as he stares at a fixed spot on the wall for a few beats. Then, a moment later, he is standing right in front of you with the pool stick in his hand, his burning gaze set on your face.
He is so close you can smell his cologne, and instinctively you take a step back, only for him to take a step closer. “Listen to me very carefully, ___. I fucking loathe you. I cannot look at you—hell, think about you for a second without remembering what you did to me. So I don’t care if I am being unprofessional right now. In fact, I want to be. When I saw you at the meeting on the first day, you know what the first thought I had was?”
You look away, your heart racing in your chest. It is too much—his proximity, his words, his gaze. Your mind starts short-circuiting, and the air feels too thick to breathe.
“Look at me.” He hisses. “I wanted to kick you out of the team right away. I wanted to make a scene and announce that I would not work with your company if you were on the team. But then, you know what I realized? Keeping you on the team would be so much more fun. I could ruin your life bit by bit and see you suffer.”
Tears of infuriation brim in your eyes.
“Remember how you called me a burden?” he whispers, chuckling menacingly. “I will show you how burdensome I can really be. News flash, ___. I am your client now, not your stupid boyfriend, and you have no choice but to do as I say.”
Dropping the cue stick on the ground with a loud thud that makes you jolt, Seungcheol walks past you. You clutch your chest with one hand, trying to breathe in large gulps of air. It takes a moment for you to notice Mingyu standing at the doorway with a cup of tea in his hand, looking helpless and apologetic.
Blinking back the tears, you force a smile at him. “I will get going now.” Your hands reach for the files on the coffee table, your fingers numb and shaky.
In silence, you head for the front door.
—
In the end, your proposal gets the green light after Daisy approaches Seungcheol the next day. After some minor changes, you get to work with Seungkwan and Yoona, thankful that you don’t have to deal with Seungcheol again.
Later that week, you have a private chat with Daisy, informing her that you and Seungcheol parted in not-so-amicable terms after high school. You try to share as little information as possible, and thankfully, she understands your predicament. She assures that you won’t have to deal with him directly from now on, and you breathe a sigh of relief. That's the end of that.
The month rolls by. The project continues to take shape. You see Seungcheol very few times, and whenever you do, your interaction stays limited to curt greetings and professional politeness. Over time, you have gotten very good at pretending that he does not affect you. Putting the mask on has been easy, and when you are in the office, busy with the project and seeing your work come to life first-hand, your past with him almost seems insignificant.
Because it is the past. You don’t have the luxury to let yourself slip while thinking about the good old days. Seungcheol can do that, but not you. Surviving in a foreign country by yourself has been a challenge, and thankfully, you have managed to remind yourself what truly matters.
Seungcheol will leave once the project is over. You will go back to your life and he to his. That's how it has to be.
—
Seungcheol is treating everyone to dinner tonight, as a celebration for the successful wrap-up of the campaign. You, Daisy, Seungkwan, and Yoona from your firm and Seungcheol’s secretary, and two other employees from his end. At first, you did not want to join them, but when you heard that it is one of the finest restaurants in town with a stellar menu, paid for with his black card, you decided not to go would be a huge loss. After all, you have been working like a dog for this project behind the scenes, with barely any recognition, and this is a perfect opportunity to drain his card, though you doubt it would leave barely a dent in his wealth.
At the long, rectangular dinner table, you make sure to sit as far away from Seungcheol as possible, right at the end, while Daisy and his employees occupy the seats near him. Despite your insistence against it, Seungkwan sits next to you.
“It’s more comfortable here.” He says. “I am not in the mood for socializing. It’s bad enough that we have to pamper his ass all week and now, we have to eat dinner with him.” He grumbles under his breath, making you laugh. “Well, at least he’s paying for the meal.” You reply, taking a sip of water.
“The only reason I am here, can’t say no to a free fancy meal.” Seungkwan huffs. You have come to confide in Seungkwan over the past couple of months. Little by little, you shared your colourful history with him, and he has developed a dislike for Seungcheol as well.
It is fun to have people to gossip with.
Dinner starts smoothly. Despite having some worries on the back of your mind that Seungcheol would strike up a conversation with you and make not-so-subtle remarks on your performance, he leaves you alone. You enjoy your dinner, chatting with Seungkwan about work and future plans, Yoona casually joining your discussion every now and then.
Just before dessert, you get a call and excuse yourself from the table, heading towards the ladies' room with your phone pressed to your ear. The male and the female washrooms sit along the same corridor, and right when you are about to turn left, you see Seungcheol emerge from the men’s room.
Right, he was not at the table when you left.
His eyes lock with yours and your steps falter, slowing down to a stop in front of the door as you hang up the call. The gears in your head start shifting, debating on whether to acknowledge him or go your way.
“Was the food to your liking, Junior Assistant ___?” He addresses you by your title, the sarcasm potent in his tone.
His eyes darken immediately, flashing with venom. “Don’t piss me off, ___.”
He just cannot help himself from picking on you, can he?
You force a smile on your face. “Yes, it was delicious. Thank you for your generosity, Vice President Choi.”
God, help me. “I did not mean to—”
“Stop smiling all the damn time. Stop acting like you are not affected by me.” He hisses, a snark on his lips. He takes one step after another, his shoes making a crisp click sound as he nears you. You look around frantically, worried someone will see you in such proximity to him.
“Stop getting on my nerves,” he breathes, his face hovering inches away from yours. With no room to escape, your back is pressed against the door, “Seungcheol…this is the ladies—”
Ignoring your scandalized gasp, he pushes you inside, stepping into the ladies' room with you. “What the hell are you doing?” You whisper-yell, eyes skimming around to see if anyone is inside. The stalls appear empty, thankfully.
Unaffected, he keeps his blazing eyes on you, backing you towards an empty, open stall. “Stop with the facade. I know you are doing it to push my buttons. You get off torturing me, no? All worked up while you don’t bat an eye, acting like our past does not exist.” You feel his hot breath against your face.
“I do not,” you whisper, trying your best to look away. You are surrounded from all sides by his warmth, his touch and his presence. It is hauntingly familiar, messing with your sensitive, tipsy brain and lowering your guard.
His words undo something inside you. The breakup with him had left you undone and you have carried on like that, a chunk of your heart empty, left behind in front of your dorm in Seoul. The knowledge that you are treading into dangerous territory claws at you, neon red alarm bells going off in your head, yet you are helpless against yourself.
“I think you are drunk, Seungcheol.” You manage.
There is a subtle shift in his gaze. With a scoff, his lips break into a smile, like you are the most amusing creature he has ever laid eyes on. “Ha. I could drink all the booze in this world and still not be drunk enough to forget you. Trust me, I have tried.”
Seungcheol is your weakness, always has been. Maybe your touch-starved soul desires to feel his warmth against your skin, or maybe it is the selfish desire of your teenage self to have his eyes only on you that keeps you rooted to your spot, looking into his eyes. In silence, you drink him in—the slope of his nose, his long, fluttery eyelashes, his moles, and his beautiful eyes that look at you in pure hatred.
Your lips tingle with the memory of the messy, wanton kiss you shared with him not so long ago. You crave to feel it again.
“I hate you,” he breathes after a moment, the look in his eyes shifting from pure venom to hazy with lust. “I hate you so fucking much, ___. I wish I could burn you to the ground. I wish I could destroy you.” His voice grows heavy with each word and you let yourself believe that he does not mean them.
“I know,” comes your meek reply.
The man groans, the sound coming from the deepest part of his chest, resonating through your body as he hastily grabs your shoulder and pushes your face upwards, stealing your lips for a bruising, toe-curling kiss. It is a kiss that makes you forget where you are or what your name is.
“Please, Seungcheol.” You moan, your entire body a flame. You feel his kiss in every nerve, the precision and roughness of it altering your brain chemistry. You are no longer yourself, lost in a space between mind-bogging lust and the memories of old days when he used to be deep inside you like this after sneaking into your dorm late at night.
Seungcheol roughly shoves you against the wall, his body nestled close to yours in the cramped space as his free hand slips underneath your blouse. His kiss is dizzying, like always. Right now, it feels particularly harsh and raw; all other thoughts flying out of your head and making you forget to breathe. His hungry lips trail over your mouth and then your jaw, his body keeping you pressed against the stall wall as he links his fingers with yours before pinning them straight above your head.
“Seungcehol,” You utter his name like a mindless prayer. The man does not acknowledge you, unbothered by your pleas. Instead, he steals another kiss, this one more languid as he takes his sweet time exploring every bit of your mouth with his tongue. With his every movement, your moans grow louder as you feel the wetness between your legs increase. Some part of you knows how depraved this is, making out with your ex—who clearly hates you—in a bathroom stall. Still, the thought dominating your mind is how frustrated you feel, pinned to the wall and unable to touch him, feel his body underneath your fingertips after so long.
You writhe, trying to free your hands from his grip, but it remains futile. “Please,” you whimper between kisses. “Please, Seungcheol.” Looks like that is all you say.
“Keep your mouth shut.” The man grunts. He presses you roughly against the wall with one hand, pushing your body upwards slightly so that he can undo the zipper of your skirt, loosening the material around your waist. Then, his hand goes underneath your skirt and without any warning, his fingers cup your core, roughly, so, feeling you through your panties. “You are soaking through your underwear,” Seungcheol mutters as he feels the wet fabric pressed against your core.
“I need you,” you mewl, letting your head fall to the side to give him better access to your neck. His lips meet your skin with a hum, the sound so deep and throaty you feel it in your core. His lips do not break contact with your skin, kissing and sucking your sensitive flesh until your whole body shakes like leaves in a tree.
“Fuck, I need you, please.” You beg, digging your nails into his shoulder and grinding harder against him, desperate to ease the throbbing ache between your legs. Seungcheol, finally satisfied with the red spot blooming on your neck, lets you go, loosening the grip on your body to let you slide down the wall.
“You are still a temptress, you know? You fucking ruined my life years ago and you’re still ruining it.” Seungcheol hisses between pants, shuffling inside the small space to undo the zipper of his trousers. One of his hands grips the flesh of your ass, letting you lift one leg and wrap it around his waist. Once his hold on you is firm, his eyes lock with yours for a brief moment as he lines himself up with your entrance, before thrusting in deep.
A pathetic, muffled shriek rips from your throat, your head banging against the stall from the impact of the pleasure. All thoughts of subduing your moans go out the window as he starts moving in and out of you, rough and restless, his fingers gripping your flesh in a hold that will leave marks for days to come.
“You like it?” He taunts, his lips curved into a snarl. “You like my cock ruining you? Does it remind you of the old times?”
One particularly hard thrust and your head lulls forward, your hands desperately clutching on to his biceps. “C-Cheol” You shudder, eyes squeezed shut, your mouth hanging half-open.
“That’s right. Only say my name,” Seungcheol pants harshly, his voice strained as he pauses for a moment and remains fully buried inside you, toying with your pleasure. You can feel his grin against your shoulder before he pulls back all the way out and then thrusts back in. The force makes your body jolt but you do not have enough time to recover as he builds a pace, pushing in and out of you in movements so strong, your back arches and your toes curl in your heels. Your brain feels like mush as you fail to utter anything, your mouth simply hanging open to let out breathy pants as you close your eyes and feel every ridge of his cock move in and out of you.
You can feel how much he hates you.
It is an addictive, blissful experience, a high you never want to come out of. “Yess…” you mumble mindlessly, the force of his pace blanking your mind, freeing you from the curse of your own thoughts.
“Are you going to come, little slut?” He hums in your ear. You have lost your voice so your body speaks for you, shaking and nodding at his words. “Of course you will. You are always such a whore for me,” he hums, nibbling the skin of your neck. One of his hands reaches below to touch your clit as he wastes no time rubbing the sensitive bundle of nerves with the pads of his finger, all the while continuing to thrust inside you earnestly.
“Seungcheol!” You scream, your entire body jolting.
Your reaction makes Seungcheol smirk as he chases his own high, seconds away from erupting inside you. He places your clit between his thumb and index finger, giving you a particularly harsh rub followed by a pinch.
You are catapulted over the edge.
Your vision goes white, your entire sweat-coated body twitching from the intensity of the pleasure. It only amplifies as you feel Seungcheol spill inside you, his warm release filling you up and dripping lazily out of you.
After a short lived moment of silence, things turn mechanic. Seungcheol untangles himself from you, that mask of indifference and boredom taking over his face once again as he cleans himself up with tissues, quietly handing some to you as well. He refuses to meet your gaze, or even acknowledge your presence, finishing his work in lightening speed and stepping out of the stall. You sit on the toilet lid for a long time, processing what you just did, before fixing your clothes and cleaning up.
By the time you step out after you have managed to gather yourself, both mentally and physically, Seiungcheol is no longer in the restaurant.
—
When your intercom rings on Saturday night, it's almost 10 pm. It is Mingyu, completely taking you by surprise. You open the door and stand unsurely as the taller man regards you with an unreadable gaze.
“I was not expecting…you.” You blink, wondering if all the wine got to your head.
“Were you expecting Seungcheol, then?” He half-jokes but you don’t smile. “May I come in?”
“Sure,” you murmur, fetching a glass for him. As you take a seat on the couch, Mingyu pours himself a drink, saying, “Something happened between you and Cheol yesterday.”
“Of course,” setting aside your confusion, you show him in. “What would you like to drink?”
“I see you are drinking by yourself.” He points at the bottle of red wine and the glass on your coffee table. “I guess I’ll join.”
Oh god.
You don’t look at him, busy taking a sip. Mingyu continues, “He has been weird since last night. Came to my place straight from the dinner, saying he fucked up.”
You offer nothing.
“Ugh, for god’s sake,” Mingyu runs a hand through his hair, his voice laced with frustration. “You guys are so…” his words fail him.
“You guys had sex, didn’t you?”
“I’m still too sober for this.”
“I can’t believe I am talking to you about this but it was hate sex, Mingyu.” You rub your forehead.
“It should not have happened.” You announce. “I was weak and I gave in to temptation. Can we put it past us now?”
“You were not the only weak one, trust me. Seungcheol is acting like a fucking teenager.” Mingyu makes a face, sipping his wine.
“If it was, he should have fucked you out of his system, not come home and whine about it continuously.” He regards you impassively, like he is trying to deduce something from your face.
“What is your point? Why are you here?” You throw him an exasperated look.
“You two need to talk. I am sick and tired of taking his bullshit and walking on eggshells around the two of you.”
“Right.” You roll your eyes and lean back on the couch. “Finish your drink and leave. I want to be alone.”
The man stays silent, quietly but leisurely sipping his wine. Time ticks by slowly as your mind wanders back to Seungcheol. The desire to ask Mingyu what he said about you grows and you know the longer he stays, the stronger your urges will grow.
Did he like it? Does he regret it? Does he miss you?
You bite your lip and finish your drink. Next week is the launch event for the campaign, and you already have your work cut out for you. Mr. Choi, along with the board of directors, will fly in from Seoul for the press conference, which is daunting enough. Right before this very important day, you had sex with Seungcheol, the one person you should not have. That too in a fucking bathroom.
Your whole life seems like a joke to you.
Your train of thought is led back to reality when you hear Mingyu murmur, “He was going to propose to you.”
You still.
The whole world stops. Your hand stills mid-air, failing to reach for the wine glass as you soak up his words. There is a dreadful, sinking feeling in your chest that grows rapidly larger each second, swallowing you whole. With all your being, you pray that you heard him wrong.
“What did you say?” You whisper, your face devoid of colour.
The man sighs, rubbing a frustrated hand over his face. “God,” he huffs, “Seungcheol was going to propose to you that month back in high school. I went with him to choose the ring. Of course, he was not going to marry you right then. He wanted to make a promise to you before you both went to college, and after you got your degree, you would get married. That was his plan.”
You are at a complete loss for words. Mingyu’s words feel absolutely unreal, a haunting mirage of a past that almost feels like a dream but somewhere deep in your heart, it makes perfect sense. It makes sense that he was planning to put a ring on your finger.
You two were madly, hopelessly in love. You dreamt of a future together and made a thousand different plans. You thought of the many, many possibilities, yet not once did you imagine breaking up.
How naive you were.
“After you broke up with him, he went crazy. He was actually batshit insane.” Mingyu shakes his head. “I never saw him like that, ever. He would drink himself to death and get into fights almost every day. He even got into a motorcycle accident and spent a month in the hospital, recovering from multiple surgeries on his knee. His father was livid, and it made things much worse.”
You feel like throwing up. Your heart has shrivelled up, folding back into itself inside your ribcage. The air feels too heavy for you to breathe in, the weight on your chest only growing larger each second.
“It was only after Mrs. Choi’s desperate and relentless begging in the hospital that he got his shit together. As his father wished, he agreed to aim for SNU, get his degree and then take over the company.” Mingyu sighs, a heavy stillness hanging in the air. “I don’t think he ever became normal. He’s just…different now. More reckless about everything. He basically became an asshole.”
Stunned, you stare at the ground. A lone drop of tear strolls down your cheek and you have to take in a few large gulps of air before you can find your voice. “Well, I am glad he is okay now.” You murmur, keeping your voice as neutral and uninterested as possible as you reach for the wine glass and chug the liquid down.
Mingyu frowns, “Don’t be like that. Don’t pretend that you don’t care.”
“I d-don’t!” You yell, but your voice breaks. A sob struggles free from your throat, and you have to bite your lip to keep from bursting into tears. Mingyu looks at you pitifully. “Gosh, ___. You are both miserable.”
“I am fine, Mingyu.” You announce, looking away and wiping your tears. “You should leave now.”
Ignoring your words, Mingyu scrutinizes you. “For old times' sake, can you at least tell me why you broke up with him? The real reason, not some bullshit excuse. I will not tell Seungcheol, I promise. I just need to know for my own peace of mind, because no matter how hard I thought about it, it never made sense.”
You sigh. “I was insecure.”
Mingyu makes a sound of annoyance. “The truth, ___.”
“It is the truth.”
—
5 YEARS AGO
The living room is ornate, decorated tastefully with expensive mahogany furniture. Alongside one wall hang dozens of pictures, mostly family portraits and pictures of Seungcheol’s grandfather when he started the Choi Industries.
Blowing on your tea, you take a sip and watch seconds tick by in the large grandfather clock. Seungcehol’s father called Seungceol away for a moment, stating that they needed to talk privately while his mother went to put dinner in the oven. It has been a while, and they have yet to show up, leaving you feeling awkward in the large, polished space. Until now, silence has been hanging in the air when suddenly, you hear muffled voices that keep rising in pitch. It sounds like someone is having a heated argument.
Half worried and half curious, you leave your spot on the sofa and carry down the hallway and towards what looks like Mr. Choi’s study, the place from where the voices are emerging. The door is not fully closed, leaving a good couple of inches gap that gives you a view of the people inside.
Seungcheol’s father stands behind his large desk, while your boyfriend stands facing him, a burning look in both of their eyes. Seungcheol’s mother stands between with her back towards the door, slightly hampering your view of the two men.
What is going on?
“Do you really have to be like this, father?” Seungcheol fumes, his voice laced with desperation.
“Yes, I have to!” The older man booms. “You have lost your mind. I let you be at first, thinking that you were not serious about her, but what? You want to go abroad to study with her? And not even to a prestigious university, but a basketball program? Are you insane?”
“Father, I don’t want—”
“You know I love basketball!”
“You are too old for that. You need to get serious and study to get into Seoul National University. My son will take over my business, not go abroad and play some stupid sport!”
“She has gotten into your head. She is using you for your money, you idiot!”
“Father, watch how you speak about her.” Seungcheol hisses.
“Enough, both of you. She is still here. We can have this conversation later.”
“Don’t you dare tell me what to do, boy! Did you forget what type of family she comes from? She comes from nothing, for god’s sake! Her father is a deadbeat alcoholic. Her mother lives with her boyfriend! She has no family, no home. How could you date someone like her?”
“Enough, father!” Seungcheol, seethes. His mother rushes to his side, trying to calm him down.
“Get some sense into his head!” Mr. Choi snaps. “He has gone insane. There is a limit to my patience. How could he think of bringing her here? How could he think I would accept her!”
You have heard enough.
With quiet steps, you go back to the living room and sit down at your spot, wringing your hands. Your fingers shake, matching your breathing, giving you a very hard time holding back tears. You fail to do so, and a tear slips down, making you do your utmost best not to break into sobs. Hearing footsteps down the corridor, you quickly wipe your face and reach for the teacup. Seungcheol steps into the living room, followed by his mother. His face gives away nothing when he speaks, “Sorry about the wait. My father got an important business call, so he won’t join us for dinner.”
“No, it’s okay,” you smile, standing up. “Actually, I got a message from my friend. There is a leak in our dorm because of the rain. She needs my help to move stuff. I should get going.”
“I will come with you.”
“Oh, no, you don’t have to.” You rush, slinging your bag over your shoulder. “It’s raining outside. I will take the bus. Goodbye, Mrs. Choi. It was lovely to meet you. Please convey my apologies to Mr. Choi.”
That was the first and the last time you were inside Seungcheol's house.
—
“Deep down, I always knew it would not work. How could it? We were so different. I always found it unbelievable that we were dating. Every day felt like a dream. When I heard them talk, it was like a wakeup call. His dad's words were bitter but they were the truth that I knew deep down. I have always been miserable. It was a sheer stroke of luck that brought Seungcheol into my life. It was a small period of blessing, and I wanted to leave it at that. Simple.” You whisper, your eyes trained outside the window, watching the darkening sky. In the distance, you hear thunder rumble.
Mingyu remains silent.
Minutes tick by. You swallow the hard lump lodged in your throat before looking at him. “What’s done is done. This project will be over next week and then we won’t have to see each other again.”
“Right,” Mingyu nods, his head moving unsuredly. “Don’t you think you owe him an explanation? It still eats him up because he does not know what he did wrong. All his anger towards you is just misplaced hurt.”
“Do you think I don’t know that?” Your voice is a shaky, sorrowful whimper. “It kills me every day when I remember what I did to him. He deserves an explanation, yes, but it hurts to even stand in front of him. Maybe under different circumstances, I would have made an attempt, but now? I think we are past everything.”
Mingyu stares at you for a beat. “At least for your sake, I think you should talk to him. I am looking at you now and it’s clear you are suffering as much as he is. And I know a thing or two about guilt. It eats you alive.”
You remain silent.
“You are barely holding on by a thread, ____. You broke up with him, but he had people around him for support that helped him get back on track somehow. You need to stop suffering by yourself,” he trails off.
“I have always been alone, Mingyu.” You offer him a sad smile.
“You don’t have to be.”
—
The week starts off busy, the hours dragging on and on as you work with Seungkwan and Yoona to perfect everything for the launch event on Thursday. Seungcheol drops by the office on Tuesday for a meeting with Daisy. You thankfully do not have any interactions with him, only catching a glimpse of him as he left her office.
The glimpse itself was heavy enough.
Like a compass always seeking north, his eyes locked with yours for a few seconds, his gaze heavy and almost…guilty. They were not burning with hatred for once, and the somber look on his face was once again a cruel reminder of what happened Friday night.
Work, thankfully, kept you busy and you had no choice but to push Seungcheol to the furthest corner of your mind.
When you see him the next time, it is Thursday morning, in the opening ceremony. You shake hands with him, all polite and business-like, posing for photos, talking to the his guests and his team.
You don’t think of the way how his eyes stay on you a second longer each time. You don’t think of the way how the look in his eyes shifts your gaze finds his, how they burn quietly with heavy, unsaid emotions. You don’t think of the way your eyes search for him in the crowded room, finding solace in having him within your sights, dressed in a stunning three-piece suit, the epitome of perfection, and a glaring reminder of why you would have never worked out.
No, you don’t think of any of those things. You think of doing your job right, staying on top of things and working alongside your team to prepare for Mr. Choi’s arrival.
And when he does, things go smoothly.
He does not recognize you. You honestly did not expect him to. But somewhere deep within you, there was a fear, an irrational one, that he would recognize you from before, and maybe discredit everything your team has been working for so far.
Nothing such happens. It’s just another round of business smiles, another round of introductions and photos. It’s just you amongst a sea of faces.
—
The event wraps up just before noon. As the hall clears out, echos of praise and hums of approval hang in the air. You join Daisy and the CEO of your company for one last small talk with Mr. Choi and his men. In the small group, Seungcheol and you stand opposite each other, sneaking glances when the other person is not looking.
At some point, the group moves on with their conversation, strolling away while you and Seungcheol stay in your place. When you gather the courage to look in his eyes, he appears jittery, nervous, and awkward at the same time, much like how you feel.
“Good work today.” He murmurs, his voice scratchy.
“Thank you.”
Silence. It becomes suffocating as you struggle to find the right things to say. You know your time with him is coming to an end. What is the right way to bring an end to this relationship?
“I am sorry about Friday night.” He finally speaks. You blink and wait, understanding that he has more to say. His eyes remain on the ground, “I am ashamed of the way I behaved. It was very…unprofessional and…I don’t know…I just…lost control and…”
“I understand, Seungcheol.” You offer, giving him a small smile.
“Right.” He blinks.
More silence.
“Seugcheol?” You whisper, realizing this might be the last time you are calling his name. He gazes at you with a somber look.
“I need to tell you something.”
He stays mute for a beat. “Go on.”
For a second, the world slows down. Time stops and creates a space where it is only you and him, and the haunting memories of your love. It is a comfortable, precious, but momentary bubble—one that you wish you could stay in forever. Swallowing the hard lump in your throat, you whisper, “I am sorry. I am sorry for breaking up with you the way I did.”
Silence.
He blinks, staring at you with an unreadable expression, making you wonder if he even heard you.
“A little too late for that, no?” He says with a mock smile, shifting his gaze to look outside the large floor-to-ceiling windows.
“Yes.” You reply. “And I am sorry for being so late as well. I have owed you this apology for a long time, and I wanted to say it out loud to you, even though it is too late.”
He sighs, nodding his head, not looking at you.
“I did not mean the things I said that night. I am sorry.” You repeat, your voice catching at the end. He finally looks back at you and, for a long moment, stares at your face. You see his eyes shine, mirror the turbulent emotions in yours, and for a moment, you get a glimpse of the Seungcheol four years ago. The boy who wore his heart on his sleeve, dreamt big things, and loved you more than anything else. You see the last five years flash by his eyes.
“I am sorry for my behaviour over the past few months,” he says after taking a deep breath. “It was immature of me.”
“It’s okay,” you whisper, voice feather light. For some reason, you feel like crying. “I understand.” Something about this conversation solidifies your idea that this is goodbye. You are not going to see him again.
He nods and gives you a tight-lipped smile that does not reach his eyes. “Well then, good luck.” Sparing one final glance at you, he turns around and marches towards the exit. You watch him leave, committing the view of his back to your memory while holding back a sob. You will not cry until he is out of sight.
A few steps in, he turns around and calls your name. “Can you tell me now why you really broke up with me?”
You could not.
You force a smile, friendly but casual. “It does not matter anymore, right?”
For a brief second, disappointment flickers in his eyes. He remains silent for another second before giving you a smile that mirrors your own—amicable but rehearsed. “Right.” He pauses, “Best of luck, ___.”
He walks away before you can reply.
—
It is going to rain today.
In the empty convention hall, you sit facing the window, the half-empty bottle of wine keeping you company in the silence. Time ticks by slowly as the darker clouds roll in, followed by the pitter-patter of the rain.
The doors open, revealing Seungkwan carrying a plate of dessert and an empty glass. “Heard you were here. I knew you would be moping, so I decided to join you.” He announces, taking a seat next to you.
You smile. “Good choice. The view is lovely here.”
He sits down on the chair next to you, putting the plate of tiramisu between the two of you. “I got this for you. People generally eat ice cream and cry but they did not have any ice cream here.”
With a soft chuckle, you reach for the spoon. “I assume they left.”
Seungkwan knows who you are referring to. “Yeah, Daisy and I saw them out. President Choi was very pleased with us. I think we can expect a good bonus.”
“That’s good to hear,” you murmur, mindlessly sucking your spoon.
Seungkwan pours himself some wine. “Seungcheol's friend—Mingyu, I think, also came. They are all going out for lunch. President Choi is flying out tonight.”
“Mhm,” you hum.
Next to you, your coworker falls silent, watching the rain fall steadily outside. “I don’t think President Choi recognized me.” You mumble, more to yourself.
“That’s a good thing, no?”
“I guess.” You pause, taking a sip of your wine. “But it hurt. It made me feel so insignificant. I knew I was insignificant, which is why I broke up with his son in the first place. But realizing that he did not even remember my face after saying all those things really put everything into perspective.”
Seungkwan remains silent next to you.
“I am a good worker but I would never make a good prospect for his son,” you chuckle, shaking your head at the pathetic situation as you remember him complimenting your hard work.
“Did you tell him why you broke up with him?” He asks. You finish your wine and set the glass down. “No. How could I? I could tell that his relationship with his father is still very strained. Why make it worse? No point in crying over spilt milk.”
“But he will never know the truth.”
“Maybe it is better this way. I apologized to him. That should be enough to move on.”
Your colleague does not say anything. In silence, he finishes his drink while you watch the rain, the sky flashing purple with distant rumbles of thunder.
“Let’s go and stand in the rain.” Seungkwan suddenly announces. You cock an amused brow at him. “What?” He pouts. “This is the perfect mood for that. You are depressed and it’s raining outside. Go and soak in the rain or something. Cry your heart out and then leave him here. It’s about time, don’t you think?”
You reflect upon his words. Yeah, it is about time.
“You’re right, let’s go.” With a resolved sigh, you stand up, followed by Seungkwan, who excitedly trails after you. The large compound in front of the hotel is silent and empty, save for the occasional cars that drive past down the main road. Your steps slow down as you walk past the entrance and stand under the portico, feeling the chill in the air that accompanies the heavy rain.
“On a second thought, maybe getting wet in the rain is not the best idea. It’s quite chilly.” Seungkwan murmurs as you both stand and watch the rain. You hum, looking at the grey sky, “Yeah. I don’t know how they make it look romantic in the movies. This feels depressing as hell.”
“Probably has something to do with your mood.” Your colleague whispers drily. You roll your eyes. “Do you know how long our rooms are booked?” You ask him. “Didn’t Daisy say something about us staying over if we want to?”
“Yeah. We can stay the night.” He affirms.
You sigh a breath of relief, crossing your arms and making yourself smaller. “Good. A warm bath sounds lovely right now. Let’s—”
You are cut off as a sports car pulls into the driveway at rapid speed, way faster than the speed limit. Your breath catches in your throat when you realize whose car it is.
Mingyu’s.
“What in the fucking romcom is going on?” Seungkwan snickers next to you as you hold your breath, expecting to see a familiar face. A second later, Seungcheol gets out from the passenger’s side, his eyes immediately finding yours as he stands in the rain, staring at you. One glance at him and you know he knows. You can tell from the look in his eyes, the way his brow is subtly knotted, and the clenched muscles of his jaw.
Mingyu could never keep a secret.
The driver’s side window rolls down, revealing Mingyu, who looks at you and goes, "Don't fuck it up this time, seriously." Then, he points to Seungkwan, “You, get in. Let's give them a moment.”
“Yep!” The man rushes past you and gets in the car. Mingyu throws a cheeky wink at you before pulling out of the driveway with a loud roar of the engine.
Once again, silence falls, save the constant hum of the rain, as you and Seungcheool stand face to face.
Why is he standing there in the rain? It reminds you awfully of the time you broke up with him.
“Seungcheol—” You take a step closer, feeling the smallest drops of water hit your skin. It’s cold. It’s cold and you don’t know what you want to say or why you called his name.
The man takes slow but determined steps towards you. “I’ll ask you once more. Why did you break up with me?” His voice is steady but loaded with a thickness that you have not heard in a long time.
The raindrops have engulfed him by the time he stands under the portico with you, dripping down his temples to his chiselled jaw, and you swear he has never looked more handsome, drenched in the rain, his breath coming out heavy with an unmistakable look in his eyes—hope.
“Seungcheol,” you breathe, a small smile spreading into your lips. It’s relief. “It does not matter.” You reply, and this time, you mean it. It truly does not matter anymore. Not when he came back. Not when he is standing in front of you.
He exhales a long breath, taking another step closer to you. He stands in front of you, intimately close, so much so that you can count the raindrops on his face.
A lot of things go through your mind. You don’t know how to articulate them, so you bask in this feeling of delight and warmth. You bask in his gaze, tender and warm, just how he used to look at you, years ago.
“You should dry up,” you whisper, still hypnotized by his eyes.
“You should have told me.” He whispers, his voice feather-light, almost drowned out by the sound of the rain. You look at him in confusion.
“You should have just been honest about your feelings. The things my dad said about you that day…they were unforgivable. It kills me to know that you heard them all and here, I have been living hating you, completely oblivious all this time.”
“It was a long time ago. It doesn’t matter.”
“It matters to me,” His voice sharpens. “To me, it is the present. I would never have found out unless Mingyu told me.” He takes a breath, running a hand through his wet locks, “Gosh, ___. I feel like I failed you. I did not make you feel safe enough to be honest with me.”
“Seungcheol, no. I was insecure—”
“I would have let you go, I swear. If I knew that you had heard all the things my father said, I would have let you go voluntarily because it was just too shameful. I would have given you your space, and then, I would have come to you. I have always wanted to do that. No matter where you went, I was ready to follow.”
Tears sting your eyes.
“I should have been honest with you. I’m sorry.” You murmur, looking at the ground, your head hanging low.
“Fuck,” he hisses and, in the blink of an eye, engulfs you into his arms. “Don’t apologize, please. If anyone should be sorry, it is I. I am sorry for every fucking thing. God, I don’t know how I could ever make it up to you. I keep failing you, ___. I almost did it again. Thank god Mingyu told me everything.”
“He promised me he would not,” you mumble into his chest, a smile blooming on your lips.
Seungcheol gently removes you from his chest, his eyes searching for yours while your smile fades, wondering what is going on in his mind.
Ever so tenderly, he reaches out cup your cheek, his thumb tracing your cheekbone. His eyes remain devoted to you and only you, while his right hand wraps around your waist, pressing your torso to his. You feel like gasoline is running through your veins, ready to ignite at any moment.
“Can I kiss you?” He whispers.
The rain has faded into a drizzle by now and you see the grey starting to fade from the sky.
“Yes.” You reply, closing your eyes.
The fire ignites when his lips meet your tender and soft, slow and passionate, deep and lingering. Both of your hands claw at each other, despite being skin to skin, it is not enough. The empty void you have been trying to mend for all these years has opened with a gaping split, and only he can mend it.
Only he could ever.
The kiss continues. Tears roll down your face. The rain stops and the sun shines again.
“I love you, Seungcheol.” You rest your forehead against his, pouring your heart out. “I love you so much. I never stopped loving you.”
“Me neither,” he breathes. “You never left my mind. Everything reminded me of you. Even when I was hating you, I was in love with you.”
A small, sad smile makes way onto your lips. “Do you think we could go back to what we were?”
“We don’t have to go back.” He replies firmly. “We can be better now. I, for one, don’t want to go back. I was foolish to lose you. I won’t do it again.”
“Things haven’t changed.” You whisper, eyes locked with his.
He makes a sound of amusement. “No, everything has. I know the truth now, so everything has changed.”
“Do you mean it? I don’t think I can survive another heartbreak, Seungcheol. I have enough ghosts already.” You try very hard not to let your voice crack.
His arms tighten around you. He pauses for a moment, his adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows, his eyes sharpening. “No more ghosts. It’s just you and me, now.”
His lips reconnect with yours, soothing your worries.
After a long, long time, you won’t go to bed haunted by ghosts. Ghosts of him and your past. The thought is a balm to your cracked soul.
“Let’s get you out of those clothes now.” You murmur, taking a look at his soaked clothes. He raises a teasing brow at you, a smirk playing on his lips. You roll your eyes, stepping into the hotel. Seungcheol quickly reaches for your hand, interlocking his fingers with yours.
Smiling ear to ear, you walk inside.
For a bonus epilogue, 1 month into the future, click here or head over to my Patreon!
a/n 2: This was supposed to come out a long time ago but I've been so swamped with a research paper and conferences that I could not make time to finish the minor editing. I also got really sick last week, during my bday, on top of that lol, so I've just been feeling miserable for a while. Anyway, I am glad that I could finish this and put it out for you guys. I don't think I will be able to upload any other fic this year as I have a lot of coursework due. If I am not dead, I hope to return with some bangers next year. I have some abandoned drafts and some interesting ideas in my head, so let's see where the wind takes me.
On a different note, I have recently been wondering/overthinking as to whether my content is substantial, in the sense that I don't want my works to be the same rehashed tropes or just in general unsubstantial pieces (fyi, I am not looking down at any other writers or comparing my works to others). It's a trial and tested pattern here that pwp fics always get more traction, which is not wrong but I think I have always been a writer who is very lore/plot-heavy. I always find smut the hardest to write and even though I like indulging in pwp fics once in a while (like my last dilf cheol fic which did numbers!) I am always looking forward to writing complex/dramatic plots. And in relation to this, I'd just like to add that I am very proud of Scars Leave a Beautiful Trace. I generally always find my work cringy when I reread it, but I think the SLABT universe is very well-crafted. I truly had the most fun time writing it; in my head it was playing like a kdrama lol, and I really appreciate all the love it has got. Please keep showing it more love, y'all!
What I'm trying to say is, I just hope that you guys, as my audience, are happy and find meaning in my work. This community is truly precious to me and I realized that I have taken this appreciation for granted. It truly means a lot to have so much love and support here, in my little corner of the internet. I am grateful to have a space to express myself and get so much love in return. My request would be for you guys to leave any feedback you have on my work and suggestions for any particular type of writing that you would like to see from me in the future. I have recently opened another tumblr account where I post random thought dumps and whatnot and I would have shared the link here, but I realized many people I know irl follow this blog and I don't want them to follow me over there because the writings there are very intimate?? lol, anyway, I'll try to build an audience over there as well from scratch and we'll see how that goes. In future, perhaps I'll share some writings here.
Anyway, thank you for reading till the end. I truly appreciate you! As always, your reblogs and comments mean a lot. My ask box is always open so drop by!
synopsis ➳ you see him at a dodgers game and for you it is game over. except, it looks like he isn't interested in you. however, the chemistry between you says otherwise.
pairing ➳ dilf!s.coups x fem!reader
genre ➳ strangers to lovers, age gap romance, smut.
word count ➳ 8.2k + 1.1k (bonus)
warnings ➳ mdni, age gap!!! (9yrs), slightly toxic dynamics, cheol is an absolute gentleman in the first half and a monster (in bed) in the second, reader is horny af, sexual tension/frustration, possessiveness, messy makeouts, unprotected sex, male oral and ofc big dick cheol, gagging, crying, pussy slapping, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, nasty sex in general bruh.
a/n: those pics of cheol at the LA Dodgers game did something to me. and to be fair, cheol isn't actually a dilf here (you'll find out). also, if age gap is not your cup of tea, DO NOT INTERACT!
I think I need someone older
Just a little bit colder
Take the weight off his shoulders
The crowd is quite suffocating.
You have to find your way through a throng of people, mostly men dressed in jerseys and holding beers, to get to the VIP seating area. Jeanie, your friend, leads the way, and you follow her tail, careful not to bump into anyone and spill your drink.
This is really not your scene.
You don't like noisy places. You don't like crowds. You don't like sports.
So what are you doing here?
Two weeks ago, you broke up with your boyfriend. It was nothing dramatic. In fact, you saw it coming. Your relationship mellowed out a long time ago, not that it was very heated in the first place, and frankly, the breakup was a relief.
It was like you finally got rid of a dead weight.
But for some reason, Jeanie, one of your closest friends, had this impression that you were depressed and having a pity party by yourself in your apartment, which you were not; you were doing a deep clean to prepare for the upcoming fall. Hence, she has dragged you out here, to a LA Dodgers game, to change the scenery and add some joy in your life.
You and your friend have truly different definitions of joy. She has been an extrovert since the time you met her in college. You, on the other hand, preferred to be by yourself.
Jeanie nudges your shoulder with hers as you two take your seats. “Lighten up, girl. Have some fun! We got these VIP seats for free!”
Right. Jeanie is friends with an influencer who gave her these tickets because she couldn’t come because of some last minute trip to a fancy Caribbean island.
You take a sip of your chilled drink and murmur. “I’m trying. You know this is not my scene.”
“A change of scenery is always good.” She announces before taking a look around in the VIP seating area. “Plus, this place is full of hot, rich guys.”
“Rich? Sure. I don’t see any hot guys, though.” You comment drily. “I am going to stay for half an hour and then leave. You know I have to make a pitch on Monday. I need to work on my presentation.”
“Can you not think about work for two seconds?” Jeanie rolls her eyes.
“Alright, fine. I’ll pretend to be very interested in the game for your sake.” You huff playfully, and your friend smiles, wrapping an arm around you. She and her fiancé watch these games regularly, and you know for a fact that if he were not out of town right now, she would not have dragged you here, and you could be finishing up with work early and end the day soaking in a bubble bath.
Yeah, that would be nice.
A man walking by catches your attention randomly. He is dressed in a grey hoodie and grey sweatpants with a cap on his head, his pace leisurely as he strolls down the stairs to take a seat in the front row. Nothing about his clothes is flashy or exceptional, but still, he stands out and your eyes follow him. As he walks past you, you get a glimpse of his face: fair skin with dark, thick eyebrows, unfairly beautiful eyes and a plump set of lips. Silently, you observe him sit down next to a man and a moment later, take a toddler out of the man’s lap to put the child on his.
Is he a father? Damn, spotting an attractive dilf was not on your bucket list.
The game starts momentarily, disrupting your thoughts as music and cheers erupt throughout the stadium. You try your best to enjoy the game before resigning yourself to sipping your beer and scrolling through your phone while occasionally taking peeks at the front row.
You don’t get to see much except the man’s back as he keeps playing with the very enthusiastic child, clapping and squealing while the man beside them takes pictures of them.
Time ticks by. Your beer finishes. You help Jeanie take some pictures before posing for some selfies with her. And then, something happens that gets you the attention of the hot man in the front row.
The child you saw earlier with him was climbing the stairs, his little wobbly feet tackling one step at a time as he held a cup of orange juice comically large for his little hands. Just as he was wobbling past your seat, he lost his balance, and some of the juice spilt out of the cup and onto the bottom of your jeans.
The two men who were a few steps behind come running as the dilf immediately picks up the kid with an admonishing look. The taller man next to him looks in your direction, muttering an apology. The father, you assume, orders, “Mingyu, go grab some napkins for the lady.”
“No, it’s—” You stand up to protest, but the man—Mingyu—dashes away to get some tissues for you. “It’s okay. It was an accident.” You offer softly as the man admonishes the child, who looks at you with large doe eyes.
“Ethan, say sorry to her.” He tells the kid who squirms to get out of his father's hold and onto the ground. “I am sorry, miss.” The kid says sweetly, bowing his head almost so far ahead that he loses his footing.
“Oh, no. It is alright, Ethan.” You softly pat his head. “You are a big, strong boy, carrying the cup by yourself!” Ethan smiles at your words, his little teeth peeking.
Mingyu returns with the napkins and hands them to you before picking Ethan up and taking him away, climbing up the stairs. You dab the spot on your jeans with the napkin, hyperaware of the dilf’s eyes on you. Oddly, you are too shy to look him in the eye, as if he can see all your thoughts about him in them.
“Allow me to pay for the dry cleaning.” He offers.
“Oh, no!” You refuse, embarrassed. “The stain is not that strong. It will wash away.”
“I insist. Please give me your number so that I can send the money.” He is adamant, and with no other option, you fish out your business card from your purse and hand it to him.
He takes a look at it before putting it in his pocket. An awkward moment of silence passes by as you finish wiping the stain and stand back up. “Your son is very cute.” You attempt to make a conversation.
“Oh,” he shakes his head with a chuckle. “That’s my nephew.”
Your ears perk up at his words.
“My sister-in-law had a dentist appointment, and so we brought him with us. He really loves my friend, Mingyu. Sometimes I think he loves him more than me.” He explains casually, a fond look on his face.
“I see.” You take a moment to scan him, half unconsciously. He is right there in front of you, and it is almost impossible not to drink him up. Despite wearing a hoodie and sweatpants, there is something about him that screams luxury. Maybe it is the way he walks and talks, at ease yet authoritative, like he owns the place, or maybe, you realize, it's the Rolex sitting on his wrist, thick and heavy.
You are so busy staring at him that it takes a long moment for you to realize he is staring at you staring at him. He is the first one to break the silence, saving you from further embarrassment. “Let me take a guess. This really isn’t your scene.” He waves his hand around.
A soft burst of laughter comes out of your mouth. “Is it that obvious?”
“It kind of is.” He smirks, his deep brown eyes twinkling with something unreadable, and your stomach starts doing backflips. You have to take a step back and grab onto the backrest of the seat to make sure you don’t fall.
“My ideal weekend is sleeping in and ordering takeout.” You shrug.
“That has its own appeal, I must agree.”
“Yeah…” you trail off, unable to hold eye contact with him any longer. Your heart is racing inhumanely fast in your chest, and you are half worried that you are getting a heart attack. For God’s sake, that’s a fucking stranger and for sure, someone’s boyfriend or husband, though you don’t see a ring. You cannot be drooling over him like that.
You need to get laid.
“Well, it was lovely talking to you. We are gonna head out now.” He stands straighter, fixing his cap, his blonde hair peeking from the sides. “I am once again, really sorry about that,” he motions to your jeans. “I’ll send you the money.”
“You really don’t have to.” You object, watching him climb up the stairs.
“Don’t worry about that.” He shakes his head before turning to look at you. “Have a nice day.”
“You too.” Chewing on your lower lip, you watch the absolute hunk of a man walk away. With a heavy sigh, when you turn back around, you find Jeanie looking at you with the evilest of smiles, like a cat that ate the canary.
“Ugh, please,” you huff, hiding your face, making an attempt to leave. “Let me go, I need to pee!”
“Mhmm,” she hums, wrapping her arms around you and dragging to down next to her. “What was all that, huh? You were practically eye fucking him. And giving him your number, my god, girl!”
“Ugh, shut up! He asked for it.”
“Mhmm, I’m sure he will be asking for a lot more things soon when he gives you a booty call.”
You roll your eyes, shoving Jeanie’s face away from yours. Inside, the idea of him calling you does make your stomach flutter more than it should.
You should get a check-up done. And get laid.
—
You do not get a call from him. Instead, the next morning, after you wake up, you find the money sent to your number along with a message that says,
Sorry for the trouble once again. — Choi Seungcheol
Choi Seungcheol. The name rolls off your tongue nicely as you keep gazing at your mobile screen, dumbfounded at the amount he sent you. No dry cleaning costs that much, and you debate a while with yourself, wondering whether you should call him, send him a text, or send some of the money back.
Hoping that he may text you for a follow-up, you get on your day, preparing to get ready for work. The day, however, comes to an end with no response from him. Not a text or a call checking if you have received the money. Finally, at night when you are in bed, you decide to text him.
Hi. It’s ___ from the game yesterday.
Five minutes later, your phone starts ringing. It is Seungcheol.
“Hello?” You half whisper, your voice suddenly catching in your throat.
“Hi.” His voice is deeper on the phone. “Sorry, I am too tired to text, so I just called you. I hope that is okay?”
“No, it’s completely fine.” You hurry. “It’s my fault for calling you this late. I’m sorry for disturbing.”
“Don’t worry about that. I just had a long day at work. But anyway, how can I help you?”
“Umh,” you take a moment to oragnize your thoughts. “I wanted to say thank you for sending the money. I really appreciate it, but the amount is much more than necessary.”
“It’s okay. You could use that to buy a pair if the stain does not come off.”
“And still I would be left with enough to grab dinner.” You joke.
“You love takeouts, right? So why not?” He hums from the other side. He remembers. You smile, chewing on your lower lip. And then, an idea pops into your head.
“I have a better idea. Let me treat you to dinner.” You state, and then squeeze your eyes shut as you hold your breath waiting for his reply.
“Why?” he sounds confused.
“Just as a token of gratitude.” You reply, still holding your breath. The line stays silent for a few seconds, and just as you start thinking you will get rejected, he answers. “Sure. When is a good time for you?”
You have to hold back a squeal. “This Friday?”
“Works for me.”
“Great!” You quip, trying not to sound too excited. “See you then!”
“Have a good night, ___.”
—
The week could not have been slower. By the time Friday rolls around, you are bone tired from all the work that came along with the new merger of your company. Still, you manage to leave work a little early and have a shower before getting ready. Seungcheol let you choose the restaurant, and you decided to go to a sleek Italian restaurant tucked away on the upscale side of town.
By the time you get into your Uber, Seungcheol texts you, stating that he is already there. Thankfully, there is not a lot of traffic, so you do not keep him waiting for long.
You find him seated at a couple’s table by the large floor-to-ceiling windows, sipping on a glass of wine as he talks to someone over the phone. He is quick to spot you, however, and as soon as he sees you, he hangs up the phone, stands up, and pulls your chair out for you.
“Hi,” You murmur, voice breathy as you come to a stand in front of him. “Sorry to keep you waiting.” You let your eyes wander all over him, and boy, does he look good—black formal shirt with black pants and a nice watch. He looks effortlessly hot, especially the way a bit of his skin peeks through the top unbuttoned space of his shirt and the way his arms flex, the veins shining in the warm light because of his rolled-up sleeves, and the way the fabric of the shirt remains tight against his solid, hard chest.
You feel like a Victorian man laying his eyes upon a woman’s ankles.
“No worries at all,” he ushers you to sit down. “I took the liberty of ordering us some appetizers and a bottle of wine. I hope you do not mind.”
“Not at all,” you reply bashfully as you sit down, and he goes back to his chair. “I am actually quite hungry. I haven’t had anything since breakfast.”
“Why?”
“Oh, work has been crazy.” You sigh.
“Hm,” he nods softly. “I heard your company is going through a merger currently.”
Swallowing a gulp of water, you look at him, impressed. “Looks like you stay updated.”
He chuckles, with a subtle shake of his head, his hand reaching out for your goblet to pour you some wine.
“I googled you, by the way.” You announce with a cheeky smile. The man raises a thick eyebrow, and involuntarily, you press your thighs together underneath the table. Setting the bottle of wine down, he leans back in his chair and softly rubs his index fingers across his chin. “Oh really?”
“I was really curious.” You explain, reaching for the wine. “Turns out you are a record label owner.”
“Yeah, it is nothing special.” He waves a hand dismissively. You roll your eyes and lean closer to him, your elbows resting on the table. “Are you serious? Literally Woozi—the Woozi is your artist. That’s insane!”
“You are a fan, I assume?”
“I am. I really like his songs.” You nod.
You are interrupted for a moment as the appetizers come alongside another server, who takes the orders for your main course. Once they are gone, Seungcheol serves you each of the dishes while saying. “I will see if I can get you an autograph.”
Quietly, you watch him load up your plate and set it down in front of you before serving himself. His thoughtful gesture gives butterflies in your stomach, and you murmur a shy “thank you”, hoping he understood that it was not because he said he would get you Woozi’s autograph.
“But enough talking about an old man like me.” He says, taking a bite of his food. “I would much rather hear about you.”
His words leave you flustered, especially as he keeps his gaze on you, his eyes unwavering. You supply information about your family, friends, and work between mouthfuls, surprised at how attentively he listens and asks thoughtful but not intrusive questions. The main course comes, and your conversations keep flowing smoothly, from your life to your hobbies to his and then to his nephew Ethan. The chemistry between the two of you is undeniable, at least that is what you think, but you have no way of knowing what is going on in his mind. He never crosses any lines or makes any attempt to touch or flirt with you, and by the time dessert is over, in the back of your mind, you are questioning yourself.
What does he think of you? A friend? A clingy young girl who was desperate to have dinner with him?
You are so lost in your head that when the bill is set down on the table, Seungcheol is the one to grab it, exceptionally fast at that, and you watch him with an open mouth.
“Hey!” You attempt to snatch the bill out of his hands but fail miserably as he simply puts his black card inside and hands it back to the waiter. “I was supposed to pay!”
“I know,” his voice is soft as a feather. “But I had a lovely evening today, and trust me when I say that it is my absolute pleasure to cover the bill.”
His tone, paired with the most sincere look in his eyes, leaves you at a loss for words, and you don’t know what to say, too busy trying to calm your racing heart. You manage to utter a soft “thank you,” and he returns it with a warm smile and a sincere “welcome.”
God damn it, this man is so perfect. The date is coming to an end, and you have no idea where you stand and what you should do to figure that out. With your head clouded in worries, you follow him out.
—
The drive goes by in relative silence, and you are at your place too quickly to your liking. Seungcheol gets out of the car to walk you to the front of your apartment complex while his driver parks the car.
“Well then, I hope you had a great time tonight.” He offers a smile as you stand in front of the entrance to your building. “I did.” You nod, hoping your voice conveys your sincerity. “It would have been greater if you let me pay, but—”
“Don’t mention it.” He cuts you off with a cheeky smile.
“Thanks again. For the dinner and for dropping me home.”
“The pleasure was all mine.” His smile is warm. “I’ll leave after you go inside.” He states and extends his hand as a polite way of urging you in. “Right, um, goodnight.” You rush, hastily turning around as your mind races with endless thoughts.
Will you see him again? He did not mention any other meeting, so that seems highly unlikely. You have his number, but can you call him? Should you call him? Would he call you?
Four steps in, you stop and turn back around. “Seungcheol?”
“Hm?”
“Would you like to date me?” You blurt out, marvelling at the steadiness of your voice as you lay all your cards out on the table.
The man in front of you blinks, once, twice, thrice and then keeps staring at you with the flattest yet most expressive face of surprise. The silence is suffocating, but you refuse to speak, worried you would embarrass yourself. After a long moment, he replies. “I don’t think it is a good idea.”
Wow.
You should say, “understandable, have a nice day,” and take your leave, but you cannot resist asking, “Why?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” He pauses. “I am much older than you.”
Wait, that is why?
“Seriously?” You have to resist rolling your eyes.
He seems surprised at your attitude. “I am almost ten years older than you, if my assumption is correct. That is a pretty big issue. Trust me, you would not want to date someone like me.”
You frown. “I don’t like how you are telling me what I should and should not want.”
He sighs, shaking his head. “That is not what I meant. Our worlds are too different. I’m not telling you how you should feel, I am just warning you.”
Your fingernails dig into your palms, which are clenched into fists. You stare at him, hard and unblinking, trying to gather your thoughts. He looks apologetic, his sharp eyes soft and guilty, and it only angers you.
“I understand,” you nod, your voice quiet. “Thank you for today. I hope you get home safely. Goodbye, Seungcheol.”
With that, you march into your apartment building.
—
“I am telling you, he was the perfect man until he started warning me about how it would not work.” You huff, your phone pressed to your ear as you arrange all the papers laid out on your desk.
“I mean, I saw that guy, right?” Jeanie continues. “Physically, he is like an eleven out of ten. And from the way you describe his mannerisms, he is like a complete gentleman.”
“Right?” You cry, shoving all the papers in a drawer of your cubicle.
Normally, you don’t waste time worrying about your personal affairs at the workplace. This, however, is an exception. Jeanie was gone for a trip with her fiancé during the weekend, and you had to prepare for the upcoming company gala as well, so you spent the last two days glued to your laptop, drowning your pain in work and coffee.
“But you know, I kinda like how he turned you down. I mean, at least he is not a weirdo who jumps at the offer of getting into a young girl's pants, right? If Google is correct and he is 35 years old, that means he is a good nine years older than you. I am just surprised that he understood the problems of this dynamic.”
“Oh, please,” you roll your eyes, slumping down on your chair. “Can you stop taking his side? He is so annoying. I wish I could just delete that guy from my mind.”
“Right, like that Kate Winslet movie.”
“Exactly,” you pause, noticing your boss coming towards your cubicle. “I’ll call you later.”
“Someone is worked up early in the morning,” Linda saunters over and leans against your cubicle. “And I know it is not work that has you stressed. So what is it?”
“I just um…” Got dumped by a hot dilf who is rich as fuck and hot as fuck and actually has a conscience. “It’s nothing.” You force a smile. "Just some personal stuff.”
“Mhm.” She hums. “If it’s a man, don’t worry too much. The right one will find his way to you.”
“Yeah,” you give her an awkward smile. Linda grins before turning on her heel, “Alright then. Conference room, five minutes. Bring those reports from the last quarter.”
—
It is the night of the gala.
This is by far Linda’s most ambitious project, throwing a party on this huge scale. The preparations leading up to this were absolutely crazy, and you have never seen everyone work so hard in your three years at this company, meticulously going through everything from the decorations to the guest list, which included every big name from CEOs to actors.
As the guests pour in, you walk behind Linda as her shadow, carrying an iPad in your hand as you tackle one guest after another, welcoming them and then moving on to the next. Halfway through, you feel your feet getting numb, and you wish you were at home dressed in your pajamas, eating takeout instead of being here, dressed in a satin gown and high heels, after working like a dog all week.
However, you soon realize things are going to get much worse for you. As Linda chats with a few investors, you spot Seungcheol, Choi Seungcheol, standing a few feet away, talking to a few other men with a smile on his face. You shift on your feet, trying to get a good look and make sure it is indeed him.
Yes, it is. Dressed in a navy blue three-piece suit, he looks like a million bucks and a flashing sign of your embarrassing history. As soon as Linda is done talking to her guests, you pull her away and whisper-yell, “Why is Choi Seungcheol here?”
“What do you mean? He was on the guest list.”
“I know but why is he here?”
Linda blinks, registering your words. She whips her head around, whispering, “Holy shit, he is here. He has never attended these parties…ever!”
“Exactly!” You hiss.
“This really is our lucky year,” Linda murmurs before heading towards him in determined strides. “No!” You yelp softly, shifting left and right, thinking of a way to escape, knowing very well that there is none. With your head down, you trail after her, standing behind her to avoid making eye contact. After a brief chat, your boss introduces you to Seungcheol, forcing you to look at him.
His eyes lock with yours, and you freeze, panicking. Should you pretend not to know him? He saves you from the trouble and, shockingly, says, “Yes, I know her.”
Your boss is surprised. “Really? How?”
Oh fuck. “Um…” your voice catches in your throat, but he takes the lead. “We met at a Dodgers game a couple of weeks ago. My nephew spilled juice over her, so it was a whole thing.” He chuckles, playing it off, and you nod, smiling along.
Your boss laughs, saying something to him, but you zone out, too caught up with what just happened. He could have pretended not to know you. What was even the point of sharing all that? Now you cannot even ignore him without looking suspicious because you are supposed to know each other.
Can you not catch a break?
Linda is suddenly called away by a couple of people, and she leaves you with Seungcheol, saying, “Keep him company, will you?” With a squeeze on your shoulder, she is gone. You don't dare to turn around and look at him, thinking about ways to smoothly run away, but he stops those thoughts immediately by grabbing your wrist and spinning you around to face him.
Holy shit. He is too close to you. So close that you smell his cologne, feel his breath on your skin. Your breath stutters. “What are you doing?”
“I have been wanting to talk to you all evening.” He says, his voice soft, his gaze devoted to your face. Your body aflame, you manage to free his grip on your waist. “Okay, what can I help you with?”
“Let’s talk somewhere private.”
“I cannot. I am working.”
“10 minutes.”
“I am busy, Seungcheol. My boss is the host of this party.”
“5 minutes.”
You bite your lower lip, your train of thought scattering as your eyes fall on his lips. “After dinner.” You manage to whisper, eyes still glued to his lips. You know he is looking at you, but you find it much harder to meet his eyes than being caught ogling him.
“You look very beautiful.” He murmurs close to your ear. You swallow, your fingers clenching the device. Why is he behaving like this? One moment, he is cold, and the next, he is all up against you, whispering things in your ear. His behaviour utterly confuses you, and you cannot help but think he is playing with you.
“Enjoy the party, Mr. Choi,” you state, turning away immediately, your heart galloping like a racehorse in your chest.
—
You have dinner at the same table. He sits right next to you, facing Linda and a few other important guests. It is stifling, being so close to him, and so dinner goes by in a blur for you. All the food tastes the same, and you have a hard time digesting everything, too wired at the reminder that you will see him alone later.
That moment comes in a flash, as the dessert plates are cleared away and the guest starts leaving the tables. You stand up, hoping to get a moment by yourself at the ladies' room, but Seungcheol springs up immediately.
“Is it okay if I steal ___ now?” He asks Linda without any hesitation the moment dinner is over. His hand is casually against the small of your back, ready to whisk you away as you stand by his side, tense. Linda looks at him and then you, and you see a knowing smile bloom on her lips. She probably thinks you are sleeping with him.
Ugh. You want to dig a hole and stay inside forever.
“Of course. I had her work a lot the entire night. She is all yours now, Seungcheol.” She assures, and you don’t miss the loadedness in her voice. As Seungcheol ushers you away, Linda winks at you, and you stare at her until she is out of sight, utterly gobsmacked. In silence, Seungcheol leads you towards the elevators.
“Where are we going?” You peer at him in perplexity as the doors close and he presses the button to the basement.
“Home.” He replies decidedly, leaving you stunned. Half dazed in shock, you follow him into his BMW, quietly taking a seat in the passenger seat. He is quick to strap himself in and start the engine, pulling out of the parking with a deep rumble of the engine.
“I’m sure the irony is not lost on you.” You comment, your eyes trained on the window, still marvelling at the ludicrous events of the evening. The universe is out to test you tonight.
“Huh?” He glances at you.
“Mr. Choi, the last time we met, we had dinner, and after that, I asked if I could date you. Do you remember what your reply was?” You turn your head and direct your gaze at him, your eyes narrowed and sharp, matching the bite in your voice. The man next to you remains silent, clenching his jaw.
You continue. “You said I was too young for you. And now, a week later, you—the man who rarely attends any parties—show up to my company’s gala and, without explanation, kidnap me.”
“I did not kidnap you.” He clarifies.
“Ugh,” you close your eyes shut, rubbing your temples. “What is it that you want, Mr. Choi?” You finally breathe out a long sigh.
“First of all,” he glances at you, his gaze stern, “stop calling me that. You never called me that.”
“Well, the only relationship we have now is professional.” You quip, crossing your arms and looking out the window.
“Whatever,” he huffs, his tone impatient. “Don’t call me that.”
Silence.
The SUV carries on through the sparse streets, the night sky drifting by overhead.
“And, I regret what I said that night.” He adds after a pause.
You shift, turning your head back to look at him. His face stays unreadable, eyes focused ahead on the street. You swallow a sudden lump in your throat, staring at him for a few moments, watching the city lights reflect on his handsome face. “I don’t believe that,” you mutter, your voice much softer than before, focusing your eyes out of the window.
“I understand. I hope I can change your mind.” He says, his voice tender, but you choose not to reply. The scenery shifts as you slip into the richer side of the town, sleek towers rising overhead, tall and glittering, the wide roads stretched out in hushed emptiness. A couple of minutes later, he pulls into the underground parking of a sleek skyscraper, the security gates parting smoothly at his pass, and parks the BMW in his assigned spot.
Quickly, he gets out of the car and jogs over to hold your door open for you as you gather your purse and fix the strap of your heels. Then, you silently follow him to the elevator, which takes you all the way to the penthouse, the doors opening to reveal a grand foyer. The place is dusted in brown, cream, grey and black, tasteful and meticulously chosen pieces that sit in perfect harmony. You are drawn to the beautiful grand piano placed by the floor-to-ceiling windows, and as Seungcheol fixes him a drink, you walk over to the instrument, tracing your fingertips on the shiny surface.
“Would you like something to drink?” He calls.
“Just water,” you reply, slowly padding over to the windows, admiring the breathtaking view of the city skyline.
A moment later, he returns, placing your mug of water on the coffee table with a soft thud, his whiskey in his left hand as he walks towards the end of the foyer and to some other part of the huge apartment. He returns a couple of minutes later, carrying something with him.
“Here you go.” He holds out his hand to you. It is a physical album of Woozi’s latest release, his autograph scrawled over the cover, directed to you. Seungcheol sits down next to you on the couch and takes a sip of his drink, “Got it signed for you a couple of days ago.”
You hold the album in your hands, trying not to appear too gleeful. “That is really kind of you, but I don’t think I can accept this.”
“You always have a hard time accepting gifts from me.” He states matter-of-factly, his eyes laser-focused on you. You sigh. “Because we never had a relationship where it could be easy or normal,” you reply, setting the album down and taking a sip.
“Right,” he murmurs and then empties the glass of whiskey before setting it on the coffee table. “Would you like a tour?”
You look at him for a moment. “Why am I here, Seungcheol?”
He exhales a loud breath, running his hands through his spiky blond hair and staring at the ground. “I…I’m sorry. I was being avoidant. I wanted to apologize for my behaviour that night and…I wanted to talk to you.”
You sit back on the couch, shifting your body to better face him. “Go ahead then.”
“God,” he groans, sitting up and looking at you. “I don’t know how to do this without sounding weird…but I regret letting you go that night.”
You snort sarcastically. “What made you change your mind? Suddenly you found me attractive?”
His gaze shifts, his eyes suddenly becoming darker. “You have misunderstood me. I thought you were attractive the moment I laid eyes on you.”
His words set your heart on fire, but you keep your guard up. “Well, you never expressed that. That night, during dinner, I really thought you would make a move because I kept dropping hints, but you were so…polite and professional and distant.”
“I was holding myself back.” He whispers, his eyes set on you at an intensity that gives you goosebumps.
“From what?”
“From this. I thought I could forget you. Ignore my feelings for you, but I cannot, and I hate myself for it.”
You frown, “Is being attracted to me that bad?”
He smirks, shaking his head as he unbuttons the top two buttons of his shirt. “If you could read my mind, you would hate me too.” He pauses, setting his eyes on you once more. Involuntarily, your toes curl and your stomach dips and suddenly, the air is too thick to breathe in. “The things I want to do to you…I know for a fact you have never dated someone like me, and that is a good thing. You know why?”
“Why?” Your voice is feather light. He leans closer to you, “Because I am very, very possessive. Especially about the things I like. But you know what the real danger was? The way you looked at me that day in the stadium and the way you are looking at me now.”
“Which is?” You croak.
“Like you want me to rip your clothes off and fuck you right here. It drives me insane...the way you keep eye-fucking me.”
Yeah, you might have had an orgasm just from his words. Also, it looks like you were not so subtle after all.
You look away, your face flushed with heat, sweat beading on your temples. Seungcheol’s arm reaches out, his hand cupping your cheek to force your eyes back on him. “I know for a fact that you want me and god, do I want you. I want to do a lot of things to you, and when I remember how older I am compared—”
“I like older guys.” You speak without thinking. He pauses, the look in his eyes shifting into something more feral. You add, “Believe it or not, you are my ideal type. A DILF.”
He blinks, “DILF?”
A chuckle slips past your lips. Right, he would not know that. “Daddy-I-would-like-to-fuck.”
He throws his head back and laughs, easing the tension in the air. “See? This is why I said no to you. Our worlds are too different. I am too old for you.”
Feeling much more at ease with yourself, you scoot closer to him, pressing your body against his and putting a hand on his. “I think you would be perfect for me. Besides, we won’t know if we don’t try. If it doesn’t work, then it doesn’t.”
His eyes are dark and sincere when he whispers, “I don’t think I could ever let you go.”
Your stomach does backflips, and you have to hold back a grin. “Good. That makes the two of us.” Craning your head upwards, you slowly let your eyes fall closed, murmuring, “Will you kiss me now?”
His lips are on yours immediately. He shoves his tongue inside you, tasting your mouth like a starved man while his hands envelop your body, feeling every inch of your skin. The warmth from his body and the movement of his lips against yours blankets you in an addictive sense of comfort and desire—like you always belonged here. Your body submits, relaxing against his as you let yourself feel every bit of the sensations. When he pulls away, the space between the two of you charges with tension, the heat increasing with the way his eyes bore into yours.
“I wanted to do that since this evening.” He breathes, his voice gruff.
“Just this evening?” You tease, catching your breath. Your lips are swollen, his bruising kiss lingering on your lips as you unconsciously lick them, trapped in the dark pools of his eyes. With a huff, he stands up and suddenly picks you up in his arms, carrying you away towards the bedroom. “You will get the tour later,” he announces, as you cling onto him, mortified at how easily he is carrying you in his arms.
He takes you to his bedroom, setting you down on the bed with a soft thump and quickly works on undoing his shirt. The view is a feast for your eyes as you unashamedly drink him in, letting your eyes slowly trail over his abs, his unbelievably broad chest and even broader shoulders.
Girl dinner or whatever they call it.
Left only in his boxers, he climbs on the bed, his hands reaching for you, his fingers tracing your back before pulling down the zipper of your dress. While his fingers do their job, his lips find yours, kissing and sucking, his tongue intertwined with yours, swallowing your moans. Your fingers grip his bicep, feeling the muscles flex underneath your skin, and you have to press your thighs together, trying to ignore the discomfort of your panties sticking to your skin.
Seungcheol helps you take off the dress, leaving you in your bra and panties only as goosebumps break onto your skin. Once again, you reconnect your lips to his, your hands pulling down his boxers while he undoes your bra. Shamelessly, you cup his length in your hands, your fingers tracing over the soft skin before giving it a few slow, deliberate strokes. The man groans against your lips and the sound goes straight between your legs, giving you an idea.
“I want to suck you off.” You announce, pulling back from his lips, your hazy eyes matching his.
“What?” He blinks. You get to work, gently pushing him off the bed until he is on his feet, kicking away his boxers, and then you are on your knees in front of him. He is thick, girthy and hard and as intimidating as it looks, you cannot wait to have it inside you, both in your mouth and your pussy.
“Fuck,” you hear him curse under his breath, his hands snaking around your head to remove the hairs from your face and hold them back. With a determined exhale, your tongue darts out, giving his tip a kittenish lick before sucking the tip of his cock.
Seungcheol throws back his head in a loud groan. Fueled by his reaction, you keep on going, taking deeper in your mouth, your tongue swirling around his member. His grip on your hair tightens as you continue sucking, covering more of his length, adding an inch bit by bit to get used to the feeling of him in your mouth. Soon, he starts to thrust in and out of your mouth in shallow movements, your hands coming to rest on his hips to balance yourself.
“Fuck, you look so hot like this,” he pants, his eyes trained on your face, your swollen, spit-coated lips wrapped around his length as you look up at him with doe eyes. “You are going to drive me insane, fuck.” He grunts, increasing his pace, his thick length going deeper and making you gag, the filthy sound of him hitting the back of your throat, his length slick with saliva and pre cum echoing through the otherwise quiet room. The heat between your legs is almost too much to bear, the thought of him buried inside you driving you wild, making you press your thighs together to ease the ache.
“You need to stop, baby.” Seungcheol pants, his grip on you fastening. “I need to fuck you right now. The only place I will be cumming is your tight pussy.
Oh god. You take your mouth off his length, inhaling large gulps of air as he places you back on the bed. Pushing you down, he peels off your panties, and you don’t miss the way his eyes flash seeing the wet spot in the fabric. Empowered by his reaction, you give him a seductive smile and open your legs wide, giving him an unrestricted view. “Well then, hurry up, old man.”
His jaw tightens, matching his grip on your thighs. “I swear to god, you won’t be able to walk tomorrow.”
“Promises, promises.” You tease, biting your lip. “I did not know you were such a brat. Looks like I have to teach you a lesson.” He murmurs and then lands a slap right on your clit.
“Fuck!” You fall back on the bed, the slap ringing through your entire nervous system, your body twitching. “You like that, little brat?” He lands another, much harder slap on your clit, and you swear you see stars. Tears bead in your eyes, your toes curling, and your body arching off the bed as you moan louder and louder. He gives you a few more slaps, each one stronger than the last, blurring your mind with an addictive combination of pain and pleasure so intense, it is unlike anything you have ever felt before. By the time he stops, you are out of breath and motionless on the ground, a drop of tear rolling down your eye as you stare at the ceiling and pant.
Smirking at your state, he climbs on top of you and grabs your wrists, pins them above your head. Lazily, he whispers in your ear, “If you want me to fuck you, you’re gonna be a good girl. Is that clear?” You answer him with a slow nod, but he isn’t satisfied as he lands a sudden slap on your breast this time, making you squeal. “Yes. I’m sorry!” You heave for breaths, pussy throbbing from his rough treatment.
“Good girl,” he praises, placing a soft kiss on your cheek before lining his cock up to your entrance, intense eyes watching you as he whispers, “Take a deep breath, baby.” You nod as you feel him entering you, his girth taking up every inch of space inside you. Your jaw hangs loose as he keeps going deeper, making you feel like you're on the brink of exploding. A tinge of pain and a lot more pleasure surge through you, but what steals most of your focus is how incredibly full you feel.
“Fuck, you are going to be the death of me,” he hisses, gritting his teeth as he keeps pushing inside steadily, and you wonder just how big his cock is when it finally stops. Pausing for a moment, he pulls back slowly until his tip rests inside you, and then he thrusts so hard that you scream out loud as he hits that spot inside you. “Fucking hell, you are so tight.” He pants, his warm breath hitting the side of your face. His grip on your wrists loosens, and you use that to free your hands and bring them around his body, pulling him closer and closer to you.
“Shit,” you shudder, head full of bliss as your mouth hangs open in pleasure. The ethereal sight of him on top of you, sweaty, full of desire and determination, has you clenching around him. You wrap your arms tightly around his back, your fingernails digging into his skin as he increases his pace. “Harder,” you beg almost mindlessly.
“Yeah? You want more, baby?”
You hold onto him tighter. “Yes, please.” You whine, clinging to him. He grunts, doubling his pace if that’s even possible. You feel like you are gonna break into two, in the best possible way, as he keeps hitting your sweet spot that has you moaning so loud it overpowers the squeaking of the bed.
“Say my name. Who’s making you feel this good?” He hisses in your ear, thrusting erratically, his grip bruise-like on your body. “You, Seungcheol! Please, I’m gonna cum!” You cry, your body twitching and tensing, the coil in your belly about to snap.
“Yeah? Cum then. Choke my cock. Milk it dry.” He bites your earlobe as one of his hands reaches down to circle your clit in tight motions, making you shudder violently. The coil in your belly snaps, and with a raw scream of his name, you come, pussy spasming around his length as wetness gushes out of you. On top of you, Seungcheol continues his ruthless pace, his thrusts slicker because of your wetness and even harder than before, to the point you worry the bed will break. He’s merciless, continuing his torture on your clit even after you come, and the oversensitivity settles. “Seungcheol, please…” You plead, absolutely drained. “One more. You can do one more, baby. Come with me,” he pants, whispering, “Let me fill this tight hole up.”
“Oh god,” You clench around him, delirious. The thought of him filling you up sends your body into overdrive as he pinches your clit, making you come once more with a scream of his name. The orgasm ripples through you like an earthquake, shaking your whole body and making your toes curl as your fingernails dig into his back. He orgasms with you, warm spurts of his seed filling you up continuously, so much that some of it leaks out. He slumps down on the bed, lying next to you, his arms still wrapped around you, holding you close. You float between reality and dreamland for a while, catching your breath and lying completely still, your brain chemistry permanently altered.
A while later, Seungcheol helps you clean up before dragging you back to bed, his arms wrapped around you tightly as he spoons you from behind.
“You okay?”
“I think I died and went to heaven,” You whisper, eyes closed. The man softly chuckles behind you, and you almost find it annoying how attractive that simple action is. “Remember how you were saying you could never let me go?” You mumble. “It is I who will not be letting you go. I will lock you up and keep you all to myself.” You know he is smiling as he wraps his arms tighter around you and nuzzles your neck. “Good. That’s where I would rather be.”
Turning around, you cup his cheeks and pull him in for a kiss, his arms enveloping you, his fingers tracing your upper back and your waist as his tongue finds its way inside your mouth. Looks like round two is about to start.
For a bonus, extra special scene, click here or head over to my Patreon! This work is cross-posted on AO3. Please support me over there as I recently opened my account!
a/n 2: atp, just call me a cheol fic blog because he's all I'm writing about. no worries, the next fic i am working on is a DK fic which will probably come out in october end or november. anyway, this was a purely self indulgent fic lol so thank you for reading this filth. i can never write pwp because somehow, the lore ends up being too long. still, thank you for making it till the end and i would love it if you left a comment and reblogged! thank you for your time and until next time, stay safe!
on a separate note, please keep yourself updated with the current state of the world, esp the ongoing genoc!de and wars. free 🇵🇸🇸🇩🇨🇩
𝓬𝓪𝓾𝓼𝓮 𝓘'𝓶 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓱𝓸𝓶𝓮 @starlightxsvt - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
