are you alive, darling? hope youre doing well with your final and enjoy your holidays!
happy new year! 😉😉
Yes i’m still alivee! I’m coming back soon! I finally have some free time, and my creative juices are flowing again!. thank you so much for checking up on me! 🥹. Happy New Years !!!
Notes: NonIdol!AU, CollegeAU. Alcohol consumption, Explicit language. Fingering. Cum eating. Polyamorous Relationship, (if you are not into that just pls ignore)
Word Count: 6.4k
Synopsis: The night continues and your lovely boyfriends truly show how much they care for you.
Previous >>> Next chapter (coming soon)
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Under the muted glow of a single lamp in the dimly lit room, Hongjoong leaned in closer to you, his breath warm against your skin. "You have to be quiet, Y/N," he whispered, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down your spine. His hands began to rub soft circles around your fabric tights, a gentle motion that contrasted sharply with the rush of adrenaline coursing through your veins.
“Shit…” you cursed, a soft gasp escaping your lips as you felt the heat of his palms against your thighs. Hongjoong chuckled softly, amusement dancing in his dark eyes, before he pressed a tender kiss against your lips. In that fleeting moment, the world outside ceased to exist and all that mattered was the two of you. You reached out, craving more of his warmth, but Hongjoong quickly caught your wrists in his grip.
“Mmh, no,” he murmured, the corners of his mouth curving into a playful smirk. “Let me do everything.” With a careful motion, he placed your hands down at your sides, his fingers trailing back between your legs, reigniting the electric tension that hung in the air.
“Let’s be quick before the guys start getting suspicious,” he added with a teasing chuckle against your neck. His voice was laced with a hint of urgency, yet his touch was steady, deliberate. You bit your lip, desperately trying to suppress the moan that threatened to spill from you at the sensation of his cold hands slipping under your shirt, teasing the waistband of your tights. A gasp slipped past your lips as you instinctively covered your mouth with your hand.
In one fluid motion, Hongjoong’s hands ventured beneath your tights, his fingers gliding along the damp fabric of your panties. The wet sounds of your arousal echoed softly in the room, a sweet symphony that made him groan in awe. “Fuck, do you hear how wet you are?” he teased, pulling away just enough to meet your gaze. Your cheeks flushed crimson under his scrutiny, and you felt a rush of boldness as you reached towards him, igniting a hunger in his eyes that he couldn’t ignore.
With a quick nod of approval, you wrapped your arms around his neck, burying your face into the crook of his neck as he resumed his ministrations, fingers moving with careful precision. When he finally slid two slender fingers inside you, a gasp escaped your lips, muffled against his skin.
“Oh, Joong~” you moaned, desperation lacing your voice. The way your name rolled off his tongue sent tremors through him, igniting a fierce desire deep within. He bit his lip, utterly captivated by your reaction, even as he fought to restrain himself from plunging headfirst into the rising heat of the moment. You tightened around his fingers, coaxing a low growl from him as he quickened his pace, each thrust sending shockwaves of pleasure through you.
“Come on my fingers, baby,” he encouraged softly, each word laced with a sweet promise. He kissed your forehead as his unoccupied hand cradled your hair, the gentle caress washing over you like a soothing balm, sending waves of ecstasy cascading through your body. You could feel the pressure building within you, a tidal wave of sensations ready to crash as your moans grew louder, spiraling out into the heated air.
“Such a good girl,” Hongjoong whispered, his voice a tantalizing whisper that wrapped around you like a warm embrace. His fingers continued to dance within you, exploring your inner curves, adjusting gently to your every gasp and shudder. Just as the world around you faded into oblivion, he slowly withdrew his fingers, his touch lingering as slick fluids connected you to him, a delicate string of intimacy that left you breathless.
“Look how much you came, baby,” he murmured, a smirk gracing his lips as he lifted his fingers, stained with your essence. Your eyes widened in a mixture of embarrassment and need as he brought his fingers to his mouth, licking each digit clean with deliberate slowness. The sight was lewd, and it sent a fresh wave of heat to your cheeks.
“J-Joong,” you stuttered, your voice barely above a whisper, mortified yet entranced by his audacity. But Hongjoong only chuckled, the sound vibrating through you as he leaned closer.
“Open your mouth,” he commanded softly. Hesitating for only a moment, you obeyed, parting your lips slightly, your tongue instinctively reaching out. He wasted no time, sliding his fingers into your mouth. Your heart raced as you closed your mouth around them, tasting the remnants of your own pleasure, a mix of sweetness and desire.
“Fuck, Y/N,” Hongjoong groaned, his eyes darkening with lust as he watched you. You moaned softly around his fingers, a sound that seemed to ignite a fire within him. The outside world dwindled to insignificance until a sharp knock at Hongjoong’s door shattered the moment.
“Joong! Y/N! Pizza is here!” Wooyoung’s voice rang out from behind the wooden barrier, loud and oblivious to the charged atmosphere within the room. You gasped, instinctively pulling away from Hongjoong.
His chuckle filled the space, mixing with your own flustered expression as he slowly withdrew from you. “Let’s go eat,” he said, extending a hand toward you, the heat of your earlier encounter still lingering in the air like a ghost.
“What about you, Joong?” you asked, sitting up as you stole a glance at his gray sweatpants, where a prominent bulge was barely concealed. “I want to help you too…” The words tumbled out of your mouth before you could filter them, a rush of need from the build-up of tension that still crackled between you.
Hongjoong smirked—a devilish glint in his eye—as he deftly tucked himself away, attempting to hide his evident arousal.
“No, it’s okay, baby. Let’s go eat.” Before you could protest, he pulled you up with him, and together, you exited the room, the remnants of your clandestine rendezvous dancing tantalizingly in the back of your mind.
———
The hours slipped by effortlessly as you sat with the boys, eating and chatting about random things. Laughter filled the air, but underneath it all, a tension still simmered between you and Hongjoong. The memory of your heated session with him earlier played over and over in your mind. Every time your eyes met his, your cheeks would burn, a wave of heat rushing through you that made it impossible to think straight. His teasing smile, the way he’d brush past you with that almost imperceptible touch to your waist—it was all too much. You could feel your body responding to him, a warmth spreading that had nothing to do with the room's temperature.
Trying to push the thoughts aside, you focused on the conversation, but the air between you and Hongjoong felt charged, his presence a constant reminder of everything that had happened earlier. It was impossible to ignore.
Your glanced at your phone, noting the time. It was getting late, and you knew you had to pull yourself together. Finals were coming up, and there was so much homework waiting for you at home. You couldn’t afford to let yourself get distracted any longer.
“I should be heading home,” you said with a smile, standing up from your seat. You tried to sound casual, but even to your own ears, your voice betrayed a touch of reluctance.
Wooyoung pouted beside you, his big eyes looking up in mock surprise. “You’re leaving already?”
You chuckled softly, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah, I’ve got a ton of work to do.”
The boys exchanged looks, but Hongjoong was the first to stand, walking toward you. He leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering just a second longer than necessary.
“We’ll see you soon, baby,” he said, his voice low and playful.
A blush spread across your cheeks, and you nodded, still reeling from the kiss. One by one, the boys bid you goodbye—some with kisses to your cheek, others with heartfelt hugs. You felt the warmth of their attention, and yet it was Seonghwa who stood by you last, his presence steady and calm.
“I’ll walk you home,” he said, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face.
You smiled softly at him. “Okay.”
Seonghwa grabbed a jacket from the back of the couch and slipped on his shoes with deliberate ease before stepping outside with you. The cold air hit you immediately, causing you to shiver instinctively. You brought your hands up to your mouth, blowing on them in an attempt to warm yourself.
Seonghwa noticed the gesture right away and, with a quiet smile, reached out to take your hand. Without a word, he tucked your hand into the pocket of his jacket, shielding it from the chill.
“Let’s go,” he murmured, tilting his head in the direction of your street.
You offered him a soft smile, feeling a warmth spread through you that had little to do with the jacket. You walked together, the night wrapping around you in a comfortable silence. It was the first time you were truly alone with Seonghwa, and yet, it felt surprisingly natural. Still, your heart raced in his presence. There was something about him—the way his charisma blended seamlessly with a quiet, caring nature—that left you feeling both awed and slightly intimidated.
“What are your plans for the week?” you asked, breaking the silence. Your voice was soft, but you couldn’t help the way your words rushed out, desperate for any excuse to keep the conversation flowing.
Seonghwa glanced down at you, his expression warm as he smiled.
“Hm, ATZ is planning an end-of-semester fundraiser. Other than that, we’re just studying for finals like everyone else.”
“Oh, what’s the fundraiser?” you asked, intrigued. Seonghwa’s smile deepened, and he shrugged casually.
“We’re still deciding between a pie fundraiser, a sports tournament, or a car wash.”
“A car wash?!” The words burst out of you before you could stop them, and you immediately clamped your lips together, turning your gaze forward in embarrassment.
Seonghwa raised an eyebrow at your reaction, amused. “What?”
You hesitated, a flush creeping up your neck. “Nothing…” you mumbled, feeling your face heat up even more.
Seonghwa wasn’t letting it go. He nudged you with his shoulder, his laughter soft and teasing. “Come on, tell me.”
You sighed, but you couldn’t suppress the smirk tugging at your lips. “It’s just… why a car wash?” You lowered your gaze to your feet as you walked, feeling your cheeks grow even warmer. “so many girls will be lined up to watch all you guys soaked, possibly shirtless” You roll your eyes and look at the side of the road.
Seonghwa’s smile only grew wider as he leaned toward you, his voice full of mischief. “What are you talking about, darling?”
You shook your head, “It’s true. That’s how all frat car washes are, right?“
Seonghwa’s low chuckle made your heart flutter. He gently shifted you so you were looking directly at him, his hand coming up to cup your face. His thumb brushed over your cheek, and for a moment, it felt like the world had slowed down.
“Is that so?” he teased, his voice soft and affectionate. Then, with a light laugh, he pressed a quick kiss to your lips.
“Okay, okay. Car wash is off the list”
You smiled, your fingers brushing his as his thumbs continued to caress your cheeks. Seonghwa smiled at you, before kissing your palm and interlocking your hands with his once again. He placed it back inside his pocket. The warmth of his touch lingered, and for the rest of the walk home, you couldn’t help but feel that sense of connection between you and Seonghwa growing stronger with every step. Upon arriving to the front of your apartment you shift towards him looking up at him.
"Hwa, you never told me..."
He glanced over at you, raising an eyebrow. "About what?"
You bit your lip, looking down at your feet for a moment. "When did you start liking me?"
Seonghwa's gaze softened, a small chuckle escaping his lips as he shifted his stance, clearly amused. "Y/N," he began, drawing out the sound of your name with a certain fondness. "Do you remember the first time we met?"
Your brows furrowed in thought. You hadn’t really thought about *that* moment in a long time. "Well… I guess my first frat party, my freshman year?" you said, tilting your head in recollection. "That was the first time I really saw any of you guys."
Seonghwa shook his head, a grin tugging at his lips. "No, I mean... do you remember when you and I first *spoke* to each other?"
You paused, your mind struggling to dig through the haze of college memories. After a few seconds, you blinked and shook your head. "We’ve… never really spoken to each other, Hwa. I mean, maybe just a little bit at the pie fundraiser a few years ago?" you suggested, half-questioning.
Seonghwa scoffed and laughed. "Wahhh... never mind." He turned as if to walk away, but his teasing tone didn’t go unnoticed. You felt a jolt of panic.
"Wait, what do you mean by 'never mind'?" you asked, your eyes were wide with concern. You could feel your heartbeat quicken, the anxiety rising within you. "What are you not telling me?"
Seonghwa chuckled again, shaking his head as if amused by your sudden panic. "Nothing, nothing," he teased, taking a step forward and gently pulling you along inside the building. "Forget about it."
You huffed, whining as you caught up with him. "Hwa~! Am I missing something?" you asked, reaching up to rub your forehead, as if that would help you pull the memory from the depths of your mind.
You both enter the elevator and his expression softens as he looked down at you. "Y/N," he called your name again, making sure he had your full attention. "Do you remember that frat party ENH hosted about two years ago? The one on Halloween?"
You paused, thinking hard. A flood of images crossed your mind—flashes of costumes, loud music, and maybe a little too much alcohol. But you couldn’t remember anything significant between you and him. "Oh, yeah, I remember the party. But… we didn’t really talk, did we?"
Seonghwa’s laugh was light and easy, but there was something almost playful in it. "Actually, we did."
You blinked, confusion furrowing your brow. "We did?" you repeated, not remembering a single conversation with him that night. "I don’t—"
Seonghwa raised a hand, as if to stop you mid-thought. "I ran into you when I got there. The guys had already been at the party for a while, but I came a little late. I was heading to the house, and I saw you sitting on the curb, all alone. You were clearly drunk, struggling to stay upright."
You stood still, the image of that night starting to come back—faintly, like a forgotten dream.
“you looked like you were about to fall over. So I asked if you were okay." Seonghwa continued.
You winced, your face flushing as you tried to recall anything from that moment, but all you could remember was an overwhelming feeling of being too drunk. Everything felt like a blur.
"That’s when it happened," Seonghwa continued with a smirk. "You threw up… all over yourself, and then—" He laughed again, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "—all over my shoes."
Your face turned a deeper shade of red, and you could barely look him in the eye. "Oh my god. I—" you stammered, unable to fully process the embarrassment. "I threw up… on you?"
He nodded, still laughing at your horrified expression. "Yeah. And after that, I had to carry you to the nearest bathroom to clean you up. You were so out of it, Y/N. But the whole time, you were chatting with me about your favorite songs, your costume, my costume, and you kept asking me what my name was over and over."
Your hand flew up to cover your face as you let out a groan, mortified beyond belief. "Oh my god, whyyyy?" you whined, half-laughing, half-crying at the ridiculousness of it all. "I’m so sorry. I must’ve been so difficult to deal with."
Seonghwa’s chuckle softened, and he reached out to gently pull your hands away from your face. His smile was warm, comforting. "No, no," he reassured you. "It was cute. It was fun. Besides, it was two years ago, you don’t need to apologize."
To be honest, you faintly remember that night, but you assumed the person helping you was Jia. Seonghwa was the last person you would’ve thought it.
Seonghwa ruffled your hair playfully, his fingers lingering for a moment longer than necessary. "I wasn't surprised you didn't remember. But I was definitely taken by you that night, Y/N. Seriously infatuated."
You blinked up at him, heart fluttering at his words. "So, you liked me… then?"
He gave a small nod, his smile sheepish yet genuine.
You tilted your head at him, a soft smile tugging at your lips. "Why didn’t you say anything afterwards?"
Seonghwa shrugged, a small chuckle escaping him. "As confident as I might seem, when it comes to someone I like, I get nervous. Really nervous."
Your heart fluttered at his words. For two years, he'd kept that secret from you, and now here he was, admitting it all. "I wish you'd said something sooner," you said, your voice quieter now, almost wistful.
Seonghwa glanced at you, his smile playful yet tender. "Well, maybe it's better this way," he said softly. "At least we got here eventually."
You smiled at him, "Yeah," you murmured. "We all did".
———
After Seonghwa had safely dropped you off at your apartment and watched you disappear inside, He chuckled to himself, shaking his head, as he headed back to the ATZ house.
The house was quiet when Seonghwa arrived, the front door creaking as he stepped inside. He kicked off his shoes and let out a sigh of relief. The warmth of the heater immediately enveloped him, washing away the last remnants of the cold night. He loosened his jacket and ran a hand through his hair, still grinning at the thoughts of you.
"Ah, you’re home," came a voice from the hallway.
Seonghwa looked up and saw San leaning against the doorframe,
"Yeah," Seonghwa said, rubbing the back of his neck. "Just got back."
San pushed himself off the doorframe and started walking toward the living room. "I need to tell you guys something," he said casually.
"Alright." Seonghwa followed San into the living room, where the rest of the boys were lounging on the couches, each with their own scattered drink or phone in hand. As Seonghwa settled down next to Hongjoong, he caught the glances the others exchanged, sensing that whatever San had to say was important. Everyone was paying attention now.
San stood before them, his posture straight and serious. The shift in his demeanor didn’t go unnoticed, and the boys sat up a little straighter. Seonghwa’s instincts told him this wasn’t going to be a casual conversation.
"Everything okay?" Seonghwa asked, his voice steady but tinged with concern.
San glanced at him briefly, then looked out over the group. "Yeah. It’s about Y/N," he began, and the room fell silent. Every eye turned to him, waiting for the next words to spill from his lips. "She wanted me to tell you guys something."
The boys stiffened, the casual atmosphere of the room suddenly gone. San’s expression was unreadable, his usual playful demeanor replaced with a kind of quiet resolve.
"What did she want to tell us?" Mingi asked, leaning forward, the first to break the silence.
San exhaled slowly, the words coming out carefully. "She told Jia about our relationship."
The boys blinked, the words hanging in the air for a moment before they sank in. There was a brief pause of stunned silence before the reactions started. The boys eyebrows raised in slight shock.
"She told Jia?" Hongjoong repeated, voice low, a hint of surprise in his tone. The room was heavy with the weight of the moment.
San nodded, his gaze steady. "Yeah. She said she was afraid to tell you all herself so she asked me to help, but she trusted Jia—said Jia was like a sister to her." He paused, scanning the room. "Her loyalty to Jia is strong, and she didn’t want to jeopardize their relationship by lying. That’s why she told her. And she wanted you all to know, so there’d be no secrets."
The boys exchanged looks, absorbing this. No one spoke at first, and for a few moments, the only sound in the room was the quiet hum of the heater. Then, Mingi broke the stillness with a question that had been on everyone’s mind.
"What was her reaction?" he asked, voice tinged with concern.
San’s lips curled into a small, reassuring smile. "Y/N said Jia was very supportive. She promised not to tell anyone about our relationship, said she respected Y/N’s trust."
A murmur of relief rippled through the group. Seonghwa leaned back on the couch, running his fingers through his hair. He didn’t realize how tense he had been until now—until he heard that Jia had been supportive. He had always trusted you, but this... this was a new layer. A new level of honesty.
Hongjoong stood up, his demeanor calm but resolute. "It’s okay. Some people are bound to find out eventually," he said, looking at each of the boys in turn. "We’re proud of ourselves, and especially our girl. If she trusts Jia, then so do we."
The boys nodded in unison, their faces a mixture of understanding and quiet pride. It was clear they weren’t upset. Rather, they were accepting. Even though things might get complicated, they knew this was a step toward something more honest, something more real.
"She didn’t have to tell anyone," Seonghwa spoke up, his voice softer now, reflecting a quiet appreciation for your strength. "But she did it anyway. I admire that."
"Yeah," San added, his eyes meeting Seonghwa’s. "And we should respect that. It wasn’t easy for her."
The conversation shifted, the tension of the earlier moments dissipating, but the weight of it lingered—because, in a way, it had solidified something between them. They had always been close, but this? This was about trust. About knowing that what they had with you wasn’t something to hide. They could face the world and be proud of it, just like you were learning to be proud of it too.
"Let’s just make sure we’re all on the same page," Hongjoong said, his voice steady. "We support each other. And we support Y/N."
The room went quiet again as the boys nodded, their bond reinforced in this moment. Despite the complexities of their relationship, despite the challenges they might face, they were united in their trust, in their loyalty to each other—and to you.
———
The next week had been a blur of assignments, deadlines, and exams. You felt like you were drowning in the weight of everything, your days running into each other in a haze of cramming and last-minute work. Every free moment was spent in the library, nose buried in textbooks or hunched over your laptop, desperately trying to finish just one more thing before time ran out. The pressure was suffocating, and no matter how much you worked, it always felt like there was more to do.
Tonight was no different. The library was quieter now, most students long gone, but you remained, barely keeping your eyes open as you typed up a final paper that was due in a few hours. The flickering fluorescent lights above your desk cast a harsh, sterile glow on everything, but you hardly noticed anymore. Your brain was on autopilot, moving through the motions without really engaging. It wasn’t until you glanced at the clock that the full weight of the night hit you.
It was 1 AM.
A deep sigh escaped your lips as you rubbed your tired eyes, feeling the strain in your muscles, the ache in your head. You were exhausted—physically, mentally, and emotionally—but the work wasn’t done. And you had to push through. You always did. But even as you packed your things into your bag, the exhaustion felt heavier than usual, dragging at you like an anchor.
On your way out of the library, you tried to shake off the fog that had settled in your mind, but it was no use. Your feet dragged as you walked across campus, the cold air hitting your face like a slap, but even the chill couldn’t wake you up. The exhaustion had seeped into your bones, and your body felt heavy, like it wasn’t entirely yours anymore. You tried to keep your focus, but your eyes were so droopy, your throat tightening with each shallow breath. It was as if your body had finally had enough of your bad habits, of staying up too late and pushing yourself too hard.
The walk back to your apartment felt longer than usual. The city around you was quieter at this hour, the streets practically empty except for the occasional car that whizzed past. You shuffled along the sidewalk, one hand clutching your bag, the other pressed to your throat, which felt raw and tight. You let out a loud cough, more out of reflex than anything, and winced at the harsh sound.
You cursed to yourself under your breath quietly.
Your nose felt clogged, your sinuses protesting every breath you took. Of course, right when the stress of finals was hitting its peak, you were getting sick. You couldn’t even remember the last time you had taken a full day off to rest. Between schoolwork and your social life, you barely had time to take care of yourself.
Finally, you reached your apartment building. You shuffled through the entrance, the warmth from the heater inside a small relief, though it did little to quell the growing ache in your body. You trudged up the stairs to your floor, your legs feeling like lead. The apartment was quiet when you opened the door, but the familiar sight of your space offered some comfort, even if it was fleeting.
As you made your way to the small kitchen, you turned up the heater, hoping the warmth would help soothe your chilled body. You shuffled through your medicine cabinet, pulling out the cold medicine you had stashed away for moments like these. The taste of the medicine was bitter, but you didn’t mind. You swallowed the dose quickly, hoping it would work its magic. You could feel the familiar drowsiness settling in already, and part of you welcomed it. You just needed to sleep.
After your nightly routine, you finally crawled into bed. The sheets were soft against your skin, and for a moment, you allowed yourself to just relax. Your head sank into the pillow, the weight of the world lifting off your shoulders for a brief, blissful second. Your body felt like it was sinking into the mattress, and the exhaustion hit you in full force, the medicine slowly tugging at your consciousness. As your eyes fluttered shut, you could feel your breath becoming deeper, slower, and the world around you started to fade into the comforting embrace of sleep.
The morning light creeps in through the thin curtains, but it feels like an eternity before your body finally registers it’s time to wake. Your limbs are heavy, your head pounding like a drum, and your throat feels raw, each breath an effort. You groan softly, cursing the relentless march of illness as it claws its way deeper into your system. The sickness—some kind of feverish cold—has taken hold with frightening speed.
Turning your head slowly towards the bedside table, you squint at the clock, heart sinking when you see the time. Noon. *Great.* You missed all your morning classes, and with finals looming just around the corner, the last thing you needed was to fall behind now.
With a huff, you reach for your phone, fingers sluggish as you unlock it. You send out quick, apologetic emails to each of your professors. Luckily, today had only been review, the calm before the storm of final exams, but still—you hate missing class. You try to push the guilt down, but it's hard to ignore the looming pressure of deadlines and responsibilities.
With that done, you reluctantly force yourself out of bed, the room tilting dangerously as you make your way toward the bathroom. A wave of nausea hits you halfway across the room, and you pause, clutching the doorframe as your head spins. You barely manage to make it to the toilet in time. The cold tile feels like a welcome relief against your fevered skin as you finish, leaning against the counter, trying to steady yourself. You swallow down some medicine, hoping it’ll help ease the ache in your muscles, and then shuffle back to bed as quickly as your weak body will allow.
Once back in the warmth of your blankets, you pull them tightly around you, letting the comforting weight of them lull you back to sleep. The bed feels like the only place in the world where you might find any peace. Your eyes close, the soft rhythm of your breathing almost masking the pounding in your skull as you drift off again, hoping for a few more hours of rest.
An hour passes.
Suddenly, the sharp, shrill ring of your phone jerks you awake, the sound jarring against your headache. You fumble for the device on the nightstand, barely managing to swipe the screen before the third ring. It’s Jongho. You blink rapidly, trying to gather your thoughts before you answer.
“Hi, Jjong,” you manage to rasp, your voice scratchy from the cold.
There’s a pause on the other end, followed by the unmistakable sound of his voice—concerned, laced with worry.
"Y/N, are you okay? You weren’t in class today, and you weren’t replying to my messages…" His voice is concerned.
You can’t help but laugh softly, even though it’s cut off by a harsh cough. “I’m okay, Jongho. Just coming down with a cold,” you explain, trying to sound more reassuring than you feel. The words barely leave your mouth before another cough follows, leaving you feeling drained.
“What?! You’re sick?!” Jongho’s voice rises in alarm, and in the background, you can hear the sounds of the rest of the boys talking—loud voices, some muffled, all tinged with concern. You picture them all crowded together, no doubt looking for answers.
Jongho’s voice cuts through the noise again, his tone sharp as he shushes them. "We’re coming over," he says, his decision already made.
“No—” you start to protest, but he cuts you off.
“Too bad,” he says, his tone final.
“Jjong, I don’t want to get any of you guys sick please” You plead covering your eyes in frustration.
“We’ll be over soon.”
Before you can argue further, the line goes dead. You stare at your phone for a moment, the sudden silence settling over you like a weight. Your body is so drained that the idea of moving feels almost impossible, but you know the boys won’t let this go. You sigh as you settle back into your bed, the exhaustion settling over once again.
———
The constant buzzing of the doorbell reverberates through the apartment, and with each ring, your patience wears thinner. You groan in annoyance, they’ve already been ringing for what feels like an eternity, and you briefly wonder how many times they’ll press that button before giving up.
Finally, with a heavy sigh, you drag yourself to the door. Every step feels like it takes twice as long as it should, and by the time you reach the entrance, your muscles ache with fatigue. You open the door, and the first thing you see is Mingi, still pressing the doorbell with a look of complete disregard for the fact that it’s already been ringing continuously. His eyes meet yours, and a flash of relief washes over his face as he quickly drops his hand and pulls you into his arms.
“Baby!” he exclaims, his voice full of warmth and concern as he envelops you in a hug, his arms firm around your tired body. His presence is a strange comfort, even though your head feels like it's going to explode from the heat of your fever.
You’re barely able to catch your breath before you spot the rest of the boys behind him. Their faces are all etched with worry, eyes wide as they take in your disheveled state. They’re carrying bags full of medicine, foods that look like remedies—anything to help you feel better. You almost feel guilty for worrying them so much, but you can’t find the energy to voice that now.
One by one, they step into your apartment. Mingi pulls you toward the couch, guiding you down into the cushions with a gentle force. Yeosang follows closely, draping a thick, soft throw blanket over your shoulders before taking a step back.
“You guys didn’t have to come,” you murmur, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks in embarrassment. “I don’t want you all to get sick, too.” You give them a small frown, trying to convey how much you appreciate their concern while simultaneously wishing you weren’t the cause of it.
“No, we want to take care of you,” Wooyoung says with a firm nod, his usual playfulness replaced by something gentler, more sincere. As he and Seonghwa head toward the kitchen, they speak in low voices about what they can make for you.
“We’re going to make you some porridge,” Seonghwa calls over his shoulder, his voice reassuring.
Hongjoong calmly walks up to you, his eyes soft. He crouches down to meet you at eye level, his expression full of care as he places his hand gently against your forehead. His fingers linger for a moment, checking the warmth of your skin.
“How do you feel?” he asks quietly, his voice soothing, as though every word is meant to comfort you.
You blink slowly, trying to gather your thoughts. “I feel hot… but I’m having chills,” you respond, your voice barely above a whisper. It’s all you can do to force the words out.
Hongjoong nods thoughtfully, his gaze soft but intense. Without another word, he stands up and starts pulling off his hoodie. You stare at him in confusion for a moment, but then your eyes widen as he lifts it over his head. You’re struck by how naturally he moves, the slight lifting of his undershirt revealing a glimpse of his toned stomach before he pulls the hoodie down over your shoulders.
“You need to wear a sweater, not a tank top,” he says with a smile, voice calm but firm, as he settles the fabric over you. You flush slightly at the closeness, his scent still lingering on the hoodie as he adjusts it to make sure you’re comfortable.
Yunho steps forward then, a comforting presence despite his towering height. “Let’s put on a show for you to watch,” he suggests brightly, his hands soft as they caress your hair, the gesture making you feel both cared for and a little embarrassed. He grabs the TV remote and begins flipping through channels.
“I’ll go make you some tea,” Jongho says with a gentle smile, his voice low and warm. You nod in appreciation, offering him a tired smile as he disappears into the kitchen to join Wooyoung and Seonghwa.
The room quiets, save for the faint sounds of your friends moving about, getting things ready to help you feel better. Mingi and Yeosang are busy cleaning up around the living room, picking up scattered notebooks, textbooks, and random items that had been left in the chaos of your sickness. You watch them for a moment, heart swelling with affection for their thoughtfulness. They don’t have to do any of this, yet they do it with such ease, as though it’s second nature to care for you.
San’s voice interrupts your thoughts as he walks toward you, a small bag of medicine in his hand. His gaze is warm but slightly worried, and he looks at you for a long moment before speaking.
“You should lay down,” he says softly, his words almost a command, but it’s the kindest order you’ve ever heard.
You nod faintly and sink back into the cushions, the exhaustion weighing down on you like an anchor. San sits beside you, his presence grounding you as he places his hand lightly on your forehead, checking your temperature. His touch is cool against your fevered skin, and you close your eyes for a moment, savoring the comfort.
“When was the last time you took medicine?” he asks quietly, his voice still full of concern.
“A little over an hour ago,” you reply softly, almost too tired to speak any louder.
San’s smile is gentle and understanding. “Okay, I’ll give you medicine in three hours,” he says, his tone warm but matter-of-fact. He brushes a stray lock of hair from your face, his fingers delicate against your skin. You smile back at him, the gesture small but sincere, grateful for the way he’s taking care of you.
As he stands up, you feel a small wave of anxiety at the thought of him leaving, but before you can voice your worry, you reach out and grab his wrist. He stops, looking at you in surprise.
“Can I lay on your lap? While we watch this show together? Please?” you ask, your voice small but hopeful.
San chuckles softly at your request, his smile widening. “Of course,” he replies, his tone warm with affection.
You shift slightly to give him room on the couch, and once he settles in, you rest your head on his lap. The moment you do, his hand finds its way to your hair, fingers gently running through the soft strands. Your body relaxes instantly, the comfort of his touch melting away the tension you didn’t even realize you were holding.
With a contented sigh, you face the TV screen, but you’re no longer focused on it. Instead, you’re surrounded by the quiet presence of your boyfriends, each one tending to you in their own way. You feel their care in every action—each touch, each word, each gesture—and your heart swells with a deep, overwhelming gratitude.
*How did I get so lucky?* you think to yourself as you close your eyes, content and warm in the safety of their love. You’ve never felt so cherished, so cared for. You might not know exactly what you did to deserve this, but in this moment, you feel like the luckiest person in the world.
end of chapter 6….
Next Chapter (Coming soon)
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Author’s Note: Hoo😮💨 finally chapter 6. I love Hongjoong and Seonghwa sm in this chapter frs🥹. I hope you all enjoyed reading! More chapters are to come! so sorry for the delays. I won’t be active for the next few weeks due to holidays. but once i’m back, i promise more stories will come out!! Don’t forget to comment or DM me to be apart of the taglist! Pls scream in my ask box to fangirl😝 LOVE YOU ALL SM😚
I just finished reading all 3 parts of Cry For Me and OH MY GOD THE EMOTIONAL ROLLER COASTER I JUST HAD!?!?!?! 😫😫😫 That series was SO freaking good!!!!! The way you write is incredible and how you portrayed reader and all the characters was impeccable. I normally avoid long fics (cause my ADHD hates me😶) so take it as a major compliment that all 3 stories had me HOOKED and SAT.
I look forward to seeing more of what you write. Take care love! 🩵
Thank you so much for the love! It makes me so happy to hear readers compliments🥹. I will definitely be coming out with more writings soon! LOTS OF LOVE 😚
Notes: NonIdol!AU, CollegeAU. Explicit language. Polyamorous Relationship, (if you are not into that just pls ignore)
Word Count: 8k
Synopsis: someone finds out about your relationship with ATZ. And the boys made an agreement amongst themselves?
Previous >>> Next Chapter
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The evening sun poured through the large window of your studio apartment, casting a warm golden glow that danced across the room. You sat on your soft, plush couch, surrounded by a chaotic array of notebooks, crumpled papers, and the persistent hum of your laptop. With a weary sigh, you leaned back, your shoulders heavy with the weight of the past five hours spent wrestling with a report for your internship.
You had always been the type to overwork, driven by an insatiable desire to excel in everything you undertook. Balancing school, work, and your social life had never been a challenge for you—until now. A sense of dread settled in your chest as you approached the report’s conclusion. You longed for relaxation, for a moment to breathe, to escape the demands of your responsibilities. Above all, you yearned to see your boyfriends, their laughter and warmth a distant echo in your mind.
But they were busy too, their own schedules packed with classes and commitments. You admired their relentless dedication to their studies, how they managed to immerse themselves in their work while still carving out time to enjoy life’s fleeting moments. As you thought of them, a swirl of emotions tugged at your heart—admiration mixed with a pang of guilt. You realized you hadn’t spent any real time alone with some of the ATZ boys lately, and the thought nagged at you.
Determined to push through, you glanced at your report, the words blurring together. Each sentence felt like a barrier between you and the fun, light-hearted evenings you craved. The idea of wrapping up your work propelled you forward. You could almost envision the laughter, the playful teasing, the joy of being with them. With renewed focus, you typed furiously, your fingers flying across the keyboard as you worked to complete the report, each keystroke a step closer to the moment you could finally leave the stress behind and reconnect with the people who made your heart race.
*Buzz*
The sound of the doorbell buzzed through the apartment, pulling you from your focus. You looked up from your laptop, curiosity igniting as you turned toward the door. Setting your device aside, you sprang from the couch, excitement thrumming in your chest.
Approaching the door, you peered through the peephole and felt a wide grin spread across your face. There was Jia, her eyes sparkling with mischief, balancing two cups of soda and a large takeout bag in her hands. Without a second thought, you swung the door open, unable to contain your joy.
“Jia!? What is this!?” you exclaimed, a delighted shriek escaping your lips as you pulled her inside, enveloping her in a warm hug.
“Aren’t I the bestest friend ever?” Jia struck a playful pose, her eyes dancing with energy as she handed you one of the drinks. You couldn’t help but giggle at her antics.
Together, you made your way to the kitchen island, sliding onto the barstools with a sense of camaraderie. The familiar sounds of wrappers crinkling and soda fizzing filled the air as you began to feast on the fast food spread before you.
“Okay, to be completely honest…” Jia turned toward you, a fry poised between her fingers, her expression suddenly serious yet playful. You leaned in closer,
“This is in celebration of me. I couldn’t tell you through text…” She paused, her grin widening as if about to share a great secret. You raised an eyebrow, taking a sip of your soda, anticipation building.
“Okay…? What is it?” you prompted, eager for the scoop.
“Wonho and I… ARE OFFICIALLY DATING!” Jia shrieked, her voice ringing with glee. She playfully grabbed your legs, shaking them in excitement. Your eyes widened in surprise, a radiant smile breaking across your face.
“Shut up!?” you gasped, covering your mouth in disbelief. “YES!”
Jia burst into laughter, her joy infectious as she jumped in her seat, the sheer happiness radiating off her.
“Holy shit, finally! I’m so happy for you!” You beamed at her, your heart swelling with joy. “After who knows how long of you two messing around with each other, you finally made it official.” You stuffed a fry into your mouth, savoring the moment.
“Ugh, I know,” Jia sighed, her eyes dreamy. “Honestly, it was my fault. I was crazy scared of commitment. But something about Wonho changed me.” She giggled, a soft smile playing on her lips as she lost herself in thought.
You watched her, a fondness growing in your chest. “I’m happy for you Jia” you said with sincerity.
In that moment, your phone buzzed, interrupting the laughter between you two with the sudden notification. You glanced down, your heart skipping a beat as you saw a message from the group chat with ATZ.
Hongjoong: We are watching a movie tonight. Want to come over?
Yuyu: I’ll pick you up if you want, Y/N.
Mingi: Please come, we are watching a scary movie. I need you to hold me!
A warm smile crept across your face, and you quickly typed a response, excitement bubbling inside you.
Y/N: Jia’s over right now. I’ll try to come by later.
You looked up just in time to catch Jia eyeing you, her brow raised in curiosity as she took a sip of her fizzy soda. She leaned forward slightly, trying to peek at your screen, but you swiftly closed your phone, feigning innocence.
“Who’s got you smiling like an idiot?” she teased, squinting her eyes with playful suspicion.
“What? No one…” you replied, hastily shoving a fry into your mouth as a distraction.
“I know when you’re lying. Who’s got your attention?” She reached for your phone, but you instinctively snatched it away, your heart racing.
“You are hiding something!” Jia exclaimed, her tone half-joking, half-serious. Without missing a beat, she jumped to conclusions. “Oh my god, is it Wooyoung?!”
You froze, stunned into silence.
“IT IS! I remember, I literally saw you two grinding on each other at the party!” Jia grabbed your shoulders, shaking you in excitement. You scrunched your face in defeat, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks.
“Or is it Yunho? I remember you had a crush on him a few summers ago, and you two have been talking a lot again,” Jia continued, her excitement bubbling over as she pulled back, tapping her chin in thought.
“Jia, please!” you exclaimed, pinching the bridge of your nose in exasperation, though amusement danced in your eyes. You couldn’t help but laugh at her ability to connect the dots, despite her notoriously short attention span.
“Okay, okay… I’m sorry,” she said softly, pressing her lips together as she stared at you expectantly.
You bit your lip, contemplating how much to reveal. “We’ve just gotten really close, that’s all,” you finally said, taking a sip of your soda to buy time.
“We?” Jia’s eyebrow shot up. “Who’s ‘we’?” She leaned against the counter, clearly intrigued.
“All of ATZ…” you mumbled, unable to meet her gaze.
“All of ATZ?!” Jia’s voice rose an octave as she covered her mouth, her eyes wide with shock. “Wait… is that why you’ve been hanging out with them so much?”
You nodded, trying to suppress the nervousness bubbling in your stomach.
“I’m confused, though. Why so suddenly?” Jia pressed, her brow furrowing in genuine concern.
“Uh… I’ve just recently become their Fraternity sweetheart…” you confessed hesitantly.
“Really?” Jia sounded unconvinced, her eyebrow arched.
“Yes,” you insisted, trying to sound confident despite your nerves.
“Y/N, ATZ never had sweethearts before! And you’ve been asked by so many other frats to be their sweetheart but always declined—until now. So what’s really going on?” Jia’s tone turned serious, her concern palpable. You sighed deeply, feeling the weight of her scrutiny.
“Jia…” you began, meeting her gaze. She could see the distress in your eyes. “I need you to keep an open mind about this, and… promise me it stays between us.”
Jia nodded, her expression earnest as she took your hands in hers. “Yes, of course.”
“I’m… dating…” you paused, heart racing. Jia’s eyes widened, and she gasped dramatically.
“SAN?!” she shouted, her voice nearly shrill. “I THOUGHT YOU HATED HIM?!”
“Jia! Let me explain!!!” You threw your head back in frustration, feeling the rush of emotions bubble over.
“Okay, okay… I’m sorry,” Jia said, her voice softening as she pressed her lips into a thin line.
“I’m dating… all of them,” you finally admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.
Jia’s eyes widened further in disbelief. “You’re messing with me,” she said, laughing nervously.
“I’m not, I’m serious…” you replied, looking down, unable to meet her incredulous gaze.
“Since when?” she asked, her tone shifting to calm curiosity.
“We’ve only been dating for a few weeks. They all confessed their feelings and wanted a polyamorous relationship. I was just as shocked as you are. I didn’t think I’d ever be in a relationship like this, but I really do like all of them…” Your voice trembled as you spoke, fear of judgment gripping you. Jia blinked in surprise, then broke into a chuckle.
“Wow… eight boyfriends. How fucken lucky are you”
Relief washed over you, and you leaned in for a hug, closing your eyes as you let out a sigh. “Oh my god, I thought you were going to judge me and dump me as a friend.”
“Me? Oh, Y/N-ie. You’re my best friend, and I support you in anything and everything you want to do.” She pulled back, smiling warmly. “Your secret relationship with them is safe with me.”
Holding out her pinky, Jia grinned. You chuckled at her gesture and interlocked your fingers.
“Thank you, Jia…” you said, feeling a wave of gratitude.
“So, I’m going to need all the details on this. Because damn, ALL OF THEM WANT YOU?!” she exclaimed, her witty self returning. “That’s actually so crazy because now that I think about it, you have liked almost all of them at least once!”
You laughed, the tension from earlier dissipating as you launched into a detailed account of how your relationship with ATZ began. The two of you migrated to the couch, popping a bottle of wine and filling your glasses with the rich red liquid, as you sipped and shared everything—their dynamic, your feelings, the whirlwind of emotions that had led you to this point. You appreciated how open-minded Jia was, her laughter ringing true without a hint of judgment.
“Wait, Y/N, I just realized,” she interjected, holding up a hand to pause your story. “I thought you and San had beef since high school?”
You bit your lip, the memories flooding back.
“It’s complicated… I was confused too when I found out he liked me.” You took a sip of wine, gathering your thoughts. “I can’t deny I’ve always had feelings for him. There’s obviously something unresolved between us, but he cares for me—I can see it when we’re together. He’s just so confusing.”
Jia raised an eyebrow, sipping her wine thoughtfully.
“Hmm, interesting.” She glanced at her phone, a smile breaking across her face. “Oh! Wonho’s off work!”
Jia set her glass down, bouncing with excitement. “I’m going to head out.”
You stood up with her, laughter bubbling between you as you walked to the door. She turned to face you one last time.
“My Y/N~ thank you for opening up to me about this. Everything is safe with me. I’m so happy for you. But if any one of them hurts you, I will kill them,” she said, her eyes serious as she held your shoulders.
You nodded, laughing at her fierce loyalty. “Thank you, Jia.”
“Bye now! Love ya!” she called as she stepped out, waving enthusiastically.
“Love ya!” you shouted back, chuckling as you closed the door behind her.
———
After bidding Jia farewell, you turn and stroll back to the couch, the soft fabric welcoming you as you reach for your phone. Your fingers tap the screen as you open the group chat with ATZ, a familiar wave of excitement washing over you. You quickly type a message, letting them know you're on your way, then glance at your reflection in the nearby mirror. A few swift touches—smooth hair, a quick spritz of your favorite fragrance—make you feel a little more put together. Slipping into your shoes, you feel a tingle of anticipation, ready to step out into the evening.
Just as you’re about to grab your bag, your phone rings, the sound slicing through the air. You glance down to see San’s name flashing on the screen. Your heart skips a beat, and you can’t help but smile as you press the green button to answer.
“Hi, San,” you say softly, trying to keep your voice steady.
“I’m almost at your place. Just wait for me. I’ll come get you,” he replies, his tone calm and reassuring.
“You didn’t have to—” you start, but he cuts you off.
“I was at the convenience store near your apartment getting snacks when you texted. It’s no big deal,” he explains, the warmth in his voice easing your initial surprise.
“Okay…” you say, feeling a mix of gratitude and a hint of annoyance that you didn’t get to argue your point.
“I’ll let you know when I’m here,” he adds, and before you can respond, the line goes dead.
Settling back onto the couch, you keep your phone close, glancing at it occasionally as the minutes tick by. Time seems to stretch, the anticipation building until you hear a firm knock on your door. You leap up from the soft cushions, your heart racing as you rush to the door. Peering through the peephole, you catch sight of San, you quickly open the door.
“San, you didn’t have to walk all the way up here. I could’ve just met you down in the lobby,” you say sheepishly.
“It’s alright. Let’s go,” he replies with a smirk, playfully ruffling your hair. The gesture sends a flush of warmth to your cheeks, and you can’t help but smile back.
As he turns to walk away, you follow behind him, still nervous as ever.
———
The walk to the ATZ house was enveloped in a serene quietness, the kind that felt both comfortable and charged with unspoken words. The air was thick with familiarity, as if the very atmosphere had normal between you and San. He strode slightly ahead of you with a long, effortless gait, his tall figure casting a protective shadow over your smaller frame. San’s hand slipped into the pocket of his jeans, while the other grasped a crinkled black plastic bag filled to the brim with an array of snacks and drinks. His focus was fixed on the path ahead, but you found yourself stealing glances at him, lost in admiration—his strong jawline accentuated by the late afternoon sun, his perfect nose. Just as you began to lose yourself in those thoughts, his voice cut through the silence.
“Is there something on my face?” he asked nonchalantly, an eyebrow quirking up as his eyes flicked toward you. Your heart raced, and you felt your cheeks warm as you diverted your gaze forward. San chuckled lightly, and you both continued your walk.
With your eyes cast forward, you recalled your earlier conversation with Jia—a conversation that now felt like it held the weight of the world. She now knows your relationship dynamic with ATZ. You should have talked to the boys first, but Jia was your best friend, and the pressure to keep such a vital piece of information under wraps had been intense. The thoughts loomed over you as you continued walking in silence.
Suddenly, the tranquility of the moment shattered as you felt a sharp tug on your arm. Before you could comprehend what was happening, you found yourself enveloped in San’s arms. Your heart pounded as you looked up, only to see a biker whizzing past, careening dangerously close to you.
“What an asshole,” San muttered, his face darkening with concern as he glared at the cyclist. The unexpected warmth of his embrace took you by surprise, and for a moment, you were frozen in place.
“Are you okay?” San asked, his voice dropping to a serious tone as he looked down at you, instinctively releasing his hold. Nodding in response, you remained silent, feeling the lingering effects of his touch.
“Did you not hear the biker ringing his bell? You looked so lost in thought; I had to pull you aside,” he noted, his gaze steady and penetrating, eyebrows raised in a gentle challenge.
“Sorry… I didn’t hear,” you murmured, guilt creeping into your tone.
“What’s on your mind, Y/N?” San inquired softly, his voice inviting you to share your burden. You felt caught in his gaze once more, the intensity of his attention forcing you to look away.
“Sannie…” The nickname slipped from your lips before you could stop yourself. It shocked you, yet it felt so natural—a small sweetness in the tension of the moment. San’s heart quickened at the sound, and he bit his lip, attempting to regain some semblance of composure.
“What’s wrong, baby?” he asked, his tone gentler now, reaching out to grasp your wrist, sending a rush of warmth through you. The endearment made you blush, and your eyes widened at the unexpected intimacy.
“I told Jia about our relationship,” you admitted softly, looking down to hide the uncertainty in your eyes. His expression shifted, surprise flitting across his face before he smiled, easing the knot of tension inside you.
“Is that it?” he lifted your chin, compelling you to look at him. You nodded, feeling small under the weight of his gaze. “I just couldn’t keep it from her any longer. She’s like my sister and deserved to know. I’m sorry…” you let the words tumble out, a sense of shame creeping into your voice.
“Why are you sorry?” San asked, his brow furrowed slightly with curiosity.
“I felt like I should’ve talked about it with you guys first before telling her. It’s your guys relationship too. But she swore not to tell anyone! Regardless, I’m sorry if I crossed the line,” you explained, your voice barely above a whisper.
“Y/N, it’s okay.” San chuckled, the sound warm and reassuring. “It’s just Jia. If you trust her, so do we. Plus, we told you before—whenever you're ready to let anyone know, we will be ready too.” He ruffled your hair playfully, and relief washed over you like a cool breeze on a scorching day.
“Okay…” you replied, staring at your feet for a moment before hesitantly meeting his gaze again. “Can you help me tell the others that I told Jia?” You clasped your hands together, looking at him with hopeful, doe-like eyes. He raised an eyebrow, wearing a bemused expression as he nodded.
“Yeah, don’t worry about it.” He resumed walking, and you hurried to keep pace at his side.
Your heart swelled with warmth at the softness of your interaction, something that felt rare and precious between the two of you. How unexpectedly sweet it had been. It was as if a curtain had lifted, revealing the deeper elements of your relationship—elements that were often obscured by playful teasing and banter.
Yet, beneath that sweetness lingered confusion. With the other members, interactions had flowed naturally and easily, but with San, everything felt more complex. He held an alluring mix of playful charm and guarded distance. You wanted to understand him better—the man who could swing between being aloof and tender. You recalled that lingering moment from that night not long ago when San had cried, clearly from being too drunk. His constant words of “hurting you” was a statement that lingered in your thoughts, especially when paired with the memory of his endearing, clingy demeanor due to too many drinks. A quiet giggle slipped from your lips as you remembered drunk San, and he turned to you, curiosity piqued.
“What’s so funny?” he asked, an eyebrow raising in question.
You couldn’t help but smile wider at his genuine interest. “Sannie, do you remember anything from the night of XIK’s party?” You tilted your head, batting your eyelashes innocently at him.
“Yeah, why?” he replied, sounding a bit suspicious but intrigued.
“Well, do you remember anything from when we got home?” Your words danced in the air, teasing him playfully.
“Just tell me, Y/N. I don’t want to play guessing games,” he insisted, crossing his arms and facing you.
“Hm, drunk San is much nicer to me,” you retorted, giving a light roll of your eyes as you looked away, feeling confident in your teasing.
San released his crossed arms, his exasperated sigh punctuating the air. “Just tell me what I did, please,” he pleaded.
“Nothing much, you were just super clingy and kept asking for me,” you teased, walking away from him. “And you were a cry baby” You laughed as you picked up pace, the small distance between you growing with your mischievous retreat.
San’s eyes widened in shock as he followed behind you. “I what?” he called out, a mix of disbelief and genuine curiosity in his voice.
Just as you approached the front door of the ATZ house, you could hardly contain your laughter as you felt the exhilaration of the moment. Before you could even reach for the door handle, San gripped your wrist and pulled you back toward him, his eyes narrowing with playful intensity.
“What do you mean I was a cry baby?” he asked, his expression a mix of faux annoyance and genuine concern. You looked up, your heart thudding as you found yourself caught in the intimacy of his gaze.
Flustered, you glanced away. “You tripped over yourself, causing both of us to bump into the wall. Well, mostly me, since I hit my head,” you recounted, your tone casual. “Then you started crying when you saw I was hurt, and you kept saying, ‘Why do I keep hurting you?’” You looked at him with your eyebrows raised in amusement.
San’s face shifted from incredulity to a flustered blush, the color flooding to his cheeks. He dropped your wrist, his shoulders tense as he turned away quickly, clearing his throat. The playful banter you had expected dimmed into a sudden seriousness, and confusion washed over you.
“What?” You nervously chuckled. You had expected laughter, maybe even some playful rebuttal, but instead, his sudden shift to seriousness left you frowning.
“It’s nothing” His lips tightened, and without another word, he hastily opened the front door and stepped inside, leaving you standing there, bewildered. You followed him into the house, feeling a sense of confusion from him like always.
———
Following closely behind San, you step into the dimly lit living room, where the flickering glow of the television casts elongated shadows across the walls. The boys are already engrossed in the horror movie, completely unaware of your presence.
In the corner of your eye, you spot Mingi, his form hunched over a pillow as he shields himself from the on-screen action. A smile spreads across your face, as you position yourself behind him. With a sudden burst of energy, you grab his shoulders and shout, “Boo!”
Mingi lets out a high-pitched scream that echoes through the room, nearly tumbling off the couch in his shock. Seonghwa and Wooyoung, caught off guard, join in with their own shrieks, creating a cacophony of startled yelps. Jongho and Yunho who were clearly unfazed, barely contain their laughter, while Hongjoong and Yeosang flinch, their faces a mix of surprise and confusion.
You can’t help but burst into laughter, the sound infectious as you reach out to Mingi, who is still wide-eyed, his face flushing with a mix of embarrassment and relief.
“Y/N!~” he whines, clutching his chest as if to calm his racing heart.
The rest of the boys are doubled over with laughter, their joy contagious. San rolls his eyes, the corners of his mouth tugging into a smile as he places the bags of snacks onto the coffee table.
“I’m sorry, Min! I didn’t think you’d actually get scared,” you manage between giggles, gently running your fingers through his hair, trying to soothe him.
“Well, hello to you too, baby,” Wooyoung says with an exaggerated drawl, clutching his chest as if your scare had truly wounded him. A playful giggle escapes your lips as you glide around to his sitting figure, his dramatic flair only adding to the moment’s hilarity.
“I’m so sorry, Woo,” you reply, laughter bubbling up again as you lean down and wrap your arms around his neck in a warm embrace. He responds instantly, his arms encircling your waist, pulling you closer as he snuggles his face into your chest. You can feel the warmth of his breath, and it makes your heart swell with affection.
Turning your attention, you notice Seonghwa watching you, a shy smile gracing his lips, his cheeks slightly flushed. “Did I scare you too, Hwa?” you ask, releasing Wooyoung’s hold and moving toward him. You can’t resist brushing your fingers through his hair, a gesture that always seems to ease any embarrassment he might feel.
“I was scared too,” Yunho pipes up, raising his hand as if he’s in a classroom, a teasing grin plastered across his face.
“Me too!” Yeosang chimes in, his big, doe-like eyes wide with mock innocence as he looks up at you, adding to the playful atmosphere.
You laugh at their playful banter, shaking your head in disbelief. “Alright, alright! I’m sorry for interrupting the movie,” you say, feigning seriousness as you gesture dramatically toward the screen. “Let’s get back to it!”
With a bright smile, you plop down between Mingi and Seonghwa, feeling the comfortable warmth of their presence. The room settles back into a cozy atmosphere, laughter still echoing softly as you all turn your attention to the flickering screen.
Your head nestled against Seonghwa’s shoulder, the warmth of his presence a steady comfort as you both sat engrossed in the flickering glow of the screen before you. The soft light illuminated your faces, casting gentle shadows that danced across the room. A cozy blanket was draped over your legs, its fabric soft against your skin, partially overlapping with Seonghwa’s and Mingi’s.
Seonghwa's arm hung casually around your shoulders, his presence a protective anchor that made you feel at ease. You could feel the gentle rise and fall of his breath, a rhythmic reassurance in the quiet space. Meanwhile, Mingi sat on the other side, his hand resting comfortably on your thigh.
As the movie droned on, the initial thrill began to fade, replaced by an almost comical absurdity that made the horror elements feel more ridiculous than terrifying. The once-terrifying scenes now elicited only faint chuckles and eye rolls from you. You felt your attention slipping away, a dull ache of boredom creeping in.
With a slight huff, you shifted your position on the couch, gently lifting your head from Seonghwa’s shoulder. The warmth that had enveloped you receded slightly, but Seonghwa’s arm stayed firmly around you, a comforting presence that anchored you even as you sought a better angle to see the screen. You leaned back, glancing at him with a soft smile, but his focus remained on the movie, his brow slightly furrowed as if trying to will the story to become engaging again.
Mingi, sensing your shift, let his hand slide higher on your thigh, a subtle gesture that sent a wave of warmth through you. The light touch was both casual and deliberate, igniting a spark of electricity in the air between you. You couldn’t help but steal a glance at him, his eyes still glued to the screen, yet there was an unmistakable teasing glint in them that made your heart race.
You gazed around the room, the flickering glow of the television illuminated the faces of the boys. Some of them were completely absorbed, their eyes glued to the unfolding drama, while others started scrolling through their phones, just as equally bored of the movie.
You try to bring your focus back onto the screen, but it was difficult with the feeling of Mingi’s fingertips sliding gently against the soft fabric of your tights, a feather-light touch that sent a shiver coursing through your body. Your heart raced, and your breath hitched as you sensed a shift in Mingi's intentions. His pinky finger—light and teasing—traced a line just below your hip, hovering between casualness and something far more intimate. The sensation of his touch resonated through you, igniting a warmth that crept up your spine and spread through your entire being.
Seonghwa glanced at you, his gaze sharp and teasing, as he caught the flustered expression on your face, cheeks painted a deep crimson. A playful smirk crept across his lips as he detected Mingi’s hand moving persistently beneath the soft fabric of the blanket. Seonghwa’s eyes followed the trajectory of Mingi’s fingers, and he couldn’t help but study the way your body responded, the gentle rise and fall of your chest betraying the electric sensations coursing through you.
A wave of envy washed over him—the way Mingi seemed to effortlessly elicit such reactions from you. Unable to resist the urge to convey his own affection, Seonghwa shifted closer, his hand brushing against your shoulder. He let his fingers gently knead the delicate muscles there. He leaned down, planting a soft kiss on your temple before allowing his hand to drift down to the nape of your neck. His fingertips began to massage you, sending unexpected shivers racing through your body like wildfire.
Mingi, ever perceptive, caught the way you instinctively reacted to his touch. He could feel the heat radiating from between your thighs, and a mischievous grin spread across his face. Suddenly, you let out a soft gasp—a sound that cut through the ambient noise of the television—as Mingi’s fingers brushed against you again, teasing and exploring the warmth hidden beneath the blanket.
Both men exchanged looks, their eyes locking for a moment, an unspoken understanding passing between them. They shared a smirk, one that held the promise of continued teasing, before their gazes dropped back to you.
Your face was a striking shade of red, as if you were caught in a sunset, and you bit your bottom lip in an attempt to focus on the screen, fighting against the distractions pulling you under. Mingi leaned in closer, his breath warm against your ear, a soft chuckle escaping his lips.
“You okay, baby?” he asked, his deep voice low and teasing. You nodded shyly, refusing to turn your head to meet his gaze, a gesture that only fueled the fire of their amusement.
Seonghwa raised an eyebrow, his smirk widening as he observed your reaction.
“You sure, darling? You keep moving,” he teased, his voice vibrating through your core, making your blush deepen as you diverted your gaze down to your lap.
“Mm, I’m okay…” you whispered, your voice barely above a breath, desperate to avoid drawing attention from the others in the room.
“Okay…” they both echoed back, their voices a perfect duet.
They admired your side profile, the curve of your jaw, the flutter of your eyelashes, and, without a second thought, they leaned in closer. Their lips brushed against your cheeks at the same time, a tender, simultaneous gesture that sent your heart racing. Your eyes widened in surprise, your breath hitching at the unexpected contact. Heat flooded your entire face.
Seonghwa pulled away slightly, his chuckle a low rumble that vibrated in the air, a sound that only made you flush more. Mingi, with a devilish glint in his eye, peppered a few more playful kisses along your cheek and down towards your neck, each one igniting your skin with warmth before he finally turned his head back towards the screen. Seonghwa followed suit, his gaze returning to the flickering images in front of you, but not before stealing another glance at you, admiration written across his features.
Without noticing, the film reached its conclusion. The screen faded to black before the end credits began to roll, accompanied by a sudden, loud exhale from Jongho. As he stood up from the couch, a sweeping wave of disappointment washed over him. “What a dumb ass movie,” he declared, flicking the light switch on and flooding the room with dim illumination.
“I agree,” chimed in Yunho, stretching his arms above his head, his voice resonating with an air of relaxed camaraderie. “It was good for the first thirty minutes, but then it just started getting weird.”
You shifted on the couch, pushing yourself upright as you cleared your throat, feeling a warm flush creeping up your cheeks, a remnant of Seonghwa and Mingi’s earlier teasing. Their playful banter had left you flustered and disoriented.
“You okay, Y/N?” Yeosang asked, concern etched in his features as he turned his gaze to you. Your eyes widened at his inquiry, and a nervous laugh slipped from your lips. “Oh, yeah! I’m okay,” you replied, forcing a smile, hoping to mask the storm of emotions swirling within.
“You sure, baby? Your face is all red,” Yeosang observed, leaning in closer to get a better look at you. The softness of his tone sent a delightful shiver down your spine.
“Ah, I’m just thirsty,” you stammered, grasping at the excuse like a lifeline, desperate to sidestep the palpable tension that had been lingering between Seonghwa and Mingi and you.
As if sensing your unease, Yeosang rose from the couch, adopting the grace of a gentleman. “Let’s go get you some water,” he suggested, extending his hand toward you. You felt your cheeks heat even more as you reached out, taking his hand. A soft thrill coursed through you as warmth enveloped your skin.
As you stood, you felt Seonghwa's and Mingi's hands brush against you, a reminder of their earlier closeness, but you stepped away, allowing Yeosang to guide you toward the kitchen. The cool tiles beneath your feet contrasted with the heat still lingering in the air.
———
Yeosang moved purposefully, grabbing a glass and filling it with water before handing it to you.
“Thanks, Yeo,” you murmured, taking a few sips, the cool liquid refreshing against your lips. After handing the glass back to him, Yeosang smiled, and without a moment's pause, he finished the remainder, his gaze locked onto yours with an intensity that made your heart race.
Yeosang placed the empty glass on the counter behind you, ruffling your hair playfully as he moved closer. You suddenly found yourself against the sleek marble table, trapped in the warm orbit of his presence. “You still flustered from Mingi and Seonghwa kissing you?” he teased, his husky voice wrapping around you like an intoxicating melody. Your blush deepened, and you turned your head away, feeling exposed.
“You saw?” you asked softly, catching a glimpse of his playful yet serious expression.
“Oh baby, all of us saw,” Yeosang chuckled, tenderly pulling your chin back until your eyes met his. His hands slipped to your hips, thumbs drawing gentle circles on your skin. The intimate gesture ignited a flurry of butterflies in your stomach, and instinctively, you wrapped your arms around his neck, finding comfort in his embrace.
“You know, I’d never thought you’d be this much of a teaser,” you remarked, your fingers finding their way into his hair, playing absentmindedly. “You’re such a gentleman, yet you tease so much” you add with a giggle.
He lowered his head slightly, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he looked back up at you. “I’m only like this towards the people I really like.” The sincerity in his voice wrapped around your heart, and his hands traveled higher on your waist, his caresses sending electrifying tingles through you.
“So, are there other girls that get to see this side of you?” you pretended to pout, a playful challenge that earned a bright smile from him.
“No, no. You’re the only girl that gets to see this side of me. I was just talking about the guys… my family. I’m more comfortable with you all, and I can be myself,” Yeosang continued, his gaze scanning your face before lingering on your soft lips.
“I’m glad I can be one of those people, then,” you whispered softly, feeling an undeniable connection with him.
“May I?” Yeosang asked, his voice barely above a whisper. Your heart raced as you nodded in response. And before you could fully process what was happening, his warm, soft lips were pressed against yours. The kiss was tender yet deep, an exquisite blend of passion and sweet affection. Each movement was slow, deliberate, as if he were crafting a work of art, and you felt yourself melting into him, intoxicated by the moment.
When he finally pulled away, you whimpered softly, reluctant to break the blissful intimacy. Yeosang chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against your lips, before planting gentle kisses along your cheek. He trailed down to your neck, eliciting a gasp from you as you surrendered to the sensation of his warm breath and soft kisses.
“Y-Yeo…” you stuttered, your eyes fluttering shut as you surrendered to the pleasure coursing through you. He continued to explore your skin, moving from your neck to your collarbone, his touch igniting your senses.
“Damn Yeo, are you trying to devour her?” The teasing voice of Jongho interrupted the sacred moment. You gasped, turning your head to see him standing in the doorframe with a smug smirk.
“Fuck off,” Yeosang muttered against your skin, refusing to let his lips leave you even for a moment.
With a playful glint in his eyes, Jongho ventured further into the kitchen, a mischievous smile on his face as he approached you. “You enjoying this, pretty?” he asked softly, brushing his fingers through your hair, sending currents of warmth spiraling through you. You nodded, unable to form words, your breath hitching in your throat. The sound of chuckles vibrated around you from both boys—Jongho’s and Yeosang’s—as Yeosang’s lips continued their descent lower.
Jongho cupped your cheek, tilting your face toward him before pressing his own soft lips against your forehead. His kisses trailed down your skin, lingering on your cheek before finally finding your lips, weaving a tender yet fervent kiss that made your heart race.
As desire swelled within you, you whimpered into the kiss, overwhelmed by the sensations wrapping around you like a warm embrace. The knowledge of what you had signed up for in this polyamorous relationship danced in the corner of your mind, but nothing could prepare you for the heady rush of being kissed by two of your boyfriends simultaneously.
Yeosang shifted slightly, giving Jongho room to deepen the kiss. His hands found their way around your back, holding you close, anchoring you in the moment.
“O-oh God,” you gasped, overwhelmed by the intimacy of it all as Yeosang smiled against your skin, playfully biting you.
“Alright, enough, you two” A new voice broke through the haze, and you turned to see Hongjoong grinning at the scene before him, his smirk playful yet admonishing. “Let Y/N breathe,” he added, stepping forward to pull Yeosang and Jongho off you gently.
Both Jongho and Yeosang exhaled in exaggerated sighs, their lips glossy and flushed like yours, a mirrored reflection of the intoxicating atmosphere you’d been engulfed in moments before.
“Fuck, if you wanted a taste, you could’ve just joined us,” Jongho joked, a twinkle of mischief in his eyes as he caught Hongjoong’s gaze. Yeosang chuckled, his eyes dancing with amusement as he took in your flushed face, still reeling from the whirlwind of emotion.
“For you two being the most quiet members, you’re so perverted,” Hongjoong laughed, rolling his eyes in exaggerated exasperation. He reached for your hand, a soft smile brightening his features. “Come on, let’s go. I want to show you something.”
Despite the heat still radiating in your cheeks from the flustered makeout session, you managed to nod softly, curiosity replacing the dizzying warmth in your chest as Hongjoong pulled you out of the kitchen, leaving a trail of lingering whispers and shared glances behind you.
———
Hongjoong's hand slipped into yours as he led you up the staircase, a warmth spreading between your fingers. The soft glow of the lamp illuminated the narrow hallway, painting everything in a cozy light. You felt a flutter of excitement in your chest, wondering what he had planned. Suddenly, Hongjoong turned to you, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.
“What did you want to show me?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, curious yet hesitant.
He leaned closer, wrapping his arms around you in a gentle hug, pulling you snugly against him. “Hm, nothing much,” he replied, a teasing glint in his eyes. “I just wanted you to myself.” As he buried his face into the crook of your neck, you could feel the warmth radiating off him, mingling with your own. Laughter bubbled up from within you as you pressed against him, enjoying the closeness.
“I don’t like sharing,” Hongjoong mumbled into your skin, his breath tickling you. You pulled back slightly, confusion etching across your face as you searched his gaze.
“Joong… what do you mean?” you asked, furrowing your brows in curiosity.
Hongjoong chuckled softly, tenderly cupping your face in his hands. His thumb lightly stroked your cheek, a calmness washing over you. “Not like that, baby,” he assured you, his voice a low murmur. “I just meant that I want us to be alone when it comes to being more intimate”
You tilted your head, pondering his words. “But you always hug and give me kisses in front of everyone?” you pointed out, slightly baffled.
“Yeah, I know…” He leaned in ever so closer, his warm breath washing over your face as he spoke. “…but those are quick hugs and quick kisses.” His voice dropped to a whisper, intimate and charged. “This time… I want to take my time.”
With each word, his lips hovered tantalizingly close to yours, barely brushing against your skin. A hitch caught in your throat at his teasing. His nose nudged playfully against yours, leaving you yearning for more. The anticipation made you whine softly, a plea for him to deepen the connection.
“Joong, don’t tease me,” you whispered, feeling a heat creep up your cheeks at the thought of everyone’s earlier teasing. “Everyone has been at it today…” The complaint tumbled from your lips, desperate for his touch.
"Okay, okay, sorry," Hongjoong chuckled, pulling away with a sheepish grin. "But on a serious note, there’s something I want to show you."
You raised an eyebrow, curious. "What is it?"
Hongjoong’s eyes lit up with a spark of excitement as he gestured toward his desk. He stood, walking around to your side and guiding you gently to the cushioned chair in front of his computer. "Sit here," he said softly, his voice warm as he pulled the chair closer to the screen, making sure you were comfortable.
He hovered for a moment behind you, his arm gently resting across your shoulders as he reached for the mouse. You could feel the weight of his touch, warm and reassuring, as he moved the cursor across the screen with careful precision.
"Do you remember that song I was working on in the library?" he asked, his voice filled with an almost shy anticipation.
You turned your head slightly to meet his gaze, your eyes briefly flicking from his face to the screen before responding. "Yeah, I remember."
Hongjoong smiled, a soft, almost secretive curve of his lips that made your heart flutter. "I finished it," he murmured, his fingers hovering over the keyboard for a moment before he clicked open a file. "I want you to listen to it."
He grabbed a pair of headphones from the side of the desk and gently placed them over your ears. His hands lingered there for just a moment, his fingers brushing your skin so lightly it almost felt like a whisper. You tried not to think too much about it as he clicked the spacebar to play the track.
The soft hum of music filled your ears, and immediately, your body relaxed into the melody. The beat was gentle, the lyrics intimate, drawing you in with every note. Your heart seemed to sync with the rhythm, beating in time with the music. There was something about the song—something in the way it made you feel like the world had momentarily slowed down, like you were wrapped in the warmth of his sound. The lyrics spoke of love, of longing, of dreams and promises, and as the final verse came to a close, you felt a lump in your throat.
When the song ended, you couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face. You pulled the headphones from your ears, turning toward Hongjoong with a bright, genuine smile.
He was looking at you nervously, his lips pressed into a tight line, waiting for your reaction. "How was it?" he asked, his voice laced with a hint of vulnerability as he took the headphones from your hands and set them on the desk.
You didn’t hesitate. "Joong, it’s beautiful. I love it so much," you said, your voice thick with sincerity, as your heart swelled with emotion. "It’s incredible."
Hongjoong let out a small, nervous laugh, his cheeks turning pink as he rubbed the back of his neck and glanced away. "You can be honest, Y/N. If you didn’t like it, it’s okay."
You shook your head, leaning forward a bit. "Hongjoong, I’m serious! This song is so good! I need it on my phone—like, right now," you said with a playful giggle, reaching out for his hands, desperate to hold onto some piece of him, some connection to the music that felt like it had touched your soul.
Hongjoong’s smile softened, and he reached for your hands, his fingers interlacing with yours. "I’m submitting this for my final project," he said, his voice now a little quieter, tinged with something deeper. He looked at you, his gaze both tender and earnest. "And I just wanted to tell you... thank you."
You blinked, confused. "Why are you thanking me?" you asked, your voice a little breathless from the intensity of the moment.
Hongjoong’s smile grew even more gentle, and he leaned in slightly, his voice barely a whisper. "You helped me finish it. You’re my muse." His words hung in the air, simple yet profound, and your heart skipped a beat.
You felt your cheeks warm, a flush creeping across your face as his words settled into your chest. "Hongjoong..." you whispered, the weight of his sentiment making you feel both overwhelmed and cherished all at once.
Without thinking, you stood up from the chair, your legs suddenly feeling unsteady as the emotions swirled inside you. You stepped toward him, closing the gap between you, and wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him into a gentle embrace. The scent of him—a mix of clean cologne and something distinctly him—filled your senses, and you buried your face in the crook of his neck.
"What did I do to deserve you guys?" you whispered, your voice shaky with a mix of awe and gratitude.
Hongjoong’s arms immediately encircled your waist, pulling you closer, his body warm and solid against yours. His grip was firm, as though he never wanted to let go. You both stood there for a long moment, the world outside the room fading away, leaving only the two of you wrapped in the quiet intimacy of the space you shared.
You rested your forehead against his, your breath mingling with his as you looked down toward his lips.
“Kiss me,” you whispered out, longing for his touch. He smirked, the mischievous gleam in his eyes igniting a flame deep inside you, as he finally devoured your lips.
The connection was electric—soft yet maddeningly intense. The room filled with the wet sounds of your lips moving in a passionate dance, your breaths melding together in the heat of the moment. Hongjoong’s hand found its way to your waist, pulling you closer, as your own arms wrapped tightly around his neck.
You stumbled backward, your legs brushing against the soft edge of his bed, collapsing onto the plush mattress with a soft 'thud.'
“Fuck, Y/N,” Hongjoong murmured against your lips, eyes glazed with desire. You responded instinctively, deepening the kiss, refusing to let go. His knees pressed against your waist, pinning you down as the two of you continued your heated exploration of each other's mouths.
“Baby, wait—” Hongjoong panted, caught off guard as your kisses trailed from his lips to his cheek and down his jawline. You ignored him, your lips marking their path towards his neck—inviting and tempting.
“Y/N…” His voice was a strained whisper that sent shivers down your spine. You could feel his control slipping as he groaned, quickly catching your wrists and pinning them above your head. The confusion in your gaze made him gulp.
“I said wait, darling.” His voice was softer now, leaning down to place a gentle peck on your lips. “Let’s not move too fast…” The sincerity in his gaze made your heart flutter, but you felt the throbbing heat of desire coursing through your veins.
“No… it’s okay, Joong… I want to,” you replied softly, uncertainty mingling with determination as you pouted.
“Fuck, baby, I know. So do I.” He sighed, the weight of the moment evident in his expression. He released your wrists, his hands resting on the mattress beside you as he tried to collect himself.
“Then let’s do it…” you whispered, leaning closer. The raw yearning in your voice hung heavily in the air.
“We can’t, baby… not yet,” he hissed, shifting away from you. Panic surged deep within, and you sat up, the distance between you feeling unbearable.
“Why?” you asked, your voice barely breaking the silence. Hongjoong gazed at you, concern etched across his handsome face, as he cupped your cheeks—his caress gentle and reassuring.
“I don’t want you to think I’m just trying to sleep with you. As much as you may think I’m not, it’s just as important for me. I— We, want to show you that we really care for you.” He pressed a sweet kiss to your forehead, the warmth of his affection creating a comforting bubble around you. “The boys and I agreed to not do anything just yet, okay baby?”
His genuine honesty struck a chord in your heart, the ache of warmth spreading through you. You nodded, a soft smile emerging despite the lament of pent-up desire.
“Okay…” you said softly, and Hongjoong smiled back, capturing your lips once again in a gentle kiss, his hands finding their way to your lap.
Then, without meaning to, his fingers brushed against the fabric of your tights, and an immediate awareness rushed over him. The dampness beneath his fingertips sent shockwaves through your system. He paused, pulling back to assess you, his eyes widening with realization.
“Fuck, you got that wet just from kissing?” His voice was thick with surprise, as his fingers tapped against the moist fabric, eliciting a gasp from your lips.
“Joong~,” you gasped, embarrassment flooding you. Heat rushed to your cheeks.
“Remind me, who kissed you tonight?” Hongjoong began drawing lazy patterns against the damp patch, teasing you relentlessly. Your tongue felt tied with embarrassment, and you couldn’t bring yourself to respond.
“Tell me, baby,” he whispered, the smirk on his lips telling you he wasn’t letting you off the hook.
“Mingi… Hwa… Jongho… and Yeo…” you whimpered, the confession rolling off your tongue. The teasing darkness in his eyes flared with satisfaction.
“And?” he pressed, his lips ghosting over yours.
“And you…” you admitted, your voice barely a breath.
“I can’t leave you all pent up like this, huh, baby?” Hongjoong murmured, his voice low and sultry, teasing with intent.
“Wouldn’t be very good of me as your boyfriend, now would it?” he continued, playful yet serious.
“I thought you said we can’t do it…” you whimpered, the confusion heating your cheeks even more.
“Yeah… but the boys and I only agreed to actual intercourse.” His lips found your neck, planting soft kisses that sent tingling shivers down your spine. “Never said anything about touching you… with my fingers.”
He pulled away just enough to whisper against your ear, his breath hot against your skin. “Want me to touch you, darling?”
Your heart raced at the tenderness in his voice as you felt the thrill of anticipation rush through you. “Y-yes, please,” you breathed, tilting your neck instinctively to give him more access. You could barely contain the yearning, the desperate need building inside you, and as his fingers danced along the fabric of your clothing, you knew this night was far from over.
end of chapter 5….
Next chapter
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Author’s note: FINALLY! I know I’m sorry for the super long wait 🥲. I was so busy this past month! Anyways I hope you all like this chapter😝✋. Chapter 6 will be out soon!
Notes: Cheating (don’t do it yall. this is just fiction), Unprotected sex (wrap it up!!! do not try this irl, it is pure fantasy!), explicit language, dacryphilia kink, humiliation, degrading, power fixation, Hongjoong lowkey manipulates (but for the better ig lol)
Word Count: 13k (condensed some ideas to bring down the word count LOL)
Authors note: This is pure horny imagination and in NO WAY, reflects on the characters in real life! If you do not like this type of content pls ignore or block me.
Pt. 2 | Pt. 3
———————————————————————
As you stepped into your apartment, the night sky cast a deep blue glow through the windows, shimmering like a vast ocean. The warm glow of the sensor lights flickered on, illuminating the entryway and casting soft shadows on the walls. You paused for a moment, a frustrated sigh escaping your lips, echoing in the stillness of the room.
It was the fifth time this month that your boyfriend had canceled on you, and each time felt like another nail in the coffin of what once seemed like a blossoming romance. The disappointment settled heavily in your chest, making each step toward the kitchen feel more burdensome than the last.
With a determined resolve, you made your way to the fridge, the familiar chill greeting you as you opened the door. Your fingers closed around a half-filled bottle of wine, the label slightly crumpled from the many times it had been hastily put back. You pulled it out, and reached for a glass. You stare blankly as you poured the wine, watching as the dark liquid rose to the rim, glistening in the soft light. Without hesitation, you brought it to your lips, taking a few deep gulps, each swallow both comforting and numbing. As the warmth spread through you, tears began to prick at the corners of your eyes, a familiar sensation that you had tried so hard to push away.
The memories of the past 2 years flooded back—Siwoo’s laughter, the shared moments that now felt like distant echoes. But lately, he had become a stranger, his warmth replaced by an impenetrable distance. You had tried to reach out, to bridge the growing gap, but each time ended in disappointment. Now, standing in your quiet apartment, you felt a profound sense of loss that had settled deep within you, leaving you feeling numb, as if you were merely going through the motions of life without truly living it.
You quickly wiped your tears away, the salty tracks on your cheeks feeling foreign yet familiar. With each brush of your fingers, the sadness that had threatened to overwhelm you twisted into something sharper—anger.
*Ding.*
The sudden sound pulled your attention away from your thoughts. You turned your head toward your phone, its screen lighting up with a notification. The sight of Siwoo's name, accompanied by a little heart, made your heart sink further.
Siwoo <3: I’m sorry I cancelled again. Please don’t hate me. I’ll see you on your lunch tomorrow.
You stared at the message, the words blurring momentarily as your vision wavered. Another empty promise. With a shaky hand, you raised your glass to your lips, the bitter taste of the wine filling your mouth as you took another long gulp. It was a poor substitute for the warmth you once felt from Siwoo's presence.
You couldn't bring yourself to respond—not now. You needed a few moments to gather your swirling emotions, to avoid lashing out with the hurt and anger that simmered just beneath the surface. The silence of the apartment enveloped you, amplifying your racing thoughts and making the weight of his message all the more suffocating.
Once you finished the rest of the wine bottle, you felt the tension in your shoulders ease just a fraction. You turned away from your phone, not wanting to see another message or another reminder of the chasm that seemed to grow between you. With heavy steps, you made your way to the bedroom.
You plopped down onto the bed, the soft sheets cradling you in their embrace. As your body sank into the mattress, fatigue overtook you, pulling you into a deep slumber. In the quiet darkness, you hoped for dreams that could somehow soothe the ache in your heart, if only for a little while.
———
The next day dawned with a muted light filtering through the curtains, the world outside still waking up. You rolled over, disoriented for a moment, before the reality of the day ahead crashed over you. With a groan, you pushed yourself up, the remnants of last night’s indulgence weighing heavily in your mind.
As you shuffled to the bathroom, the headache from downing that last glass of wine throbbed at your temples, a persistent reminder of your restless night. You cursed under your breath, regretting the decision to finish the bottle in a moment of vulnerability.
You quickly went through the motions of your morning routine. Your job as the secretary for one of the most well-known CEOs in the Creative Arts Institution required precision and poise, a stark contrast to the emotional turmoil that had kept you up late. You dressed in a tailored blouse and a pencil skirt, the fabric smoothing against your skin as you adjusted the collar. The mirror reflected a professional exterior, yet you felt anything but composed inside.
After applying a touch of makeup to mask the fatigue in your eyes, you gathered your things—laptop, planner, and the ever-essential cup of coffee that awaited you in the kitchen.
———
As you step into the tall building, the morning sun filters through the glass façade, casting geometric shadows across the polished marble lobby. The familiar bustle of your colleagues greets you, their voices merging with the gentle hum of fluorescent lights. You nod and smile as you greet in response. You make your way to the elevator, its silver doors glinting in the light. Pressing the button for the top floor, you mentally prepare for the day ahead, trying not to show your exhausted emotions, mentally and physically. When the doors slide open, you step into the expansive hallway lined with art. At the end of the corridor, you enter the grand office door. You walk to the enormous desk adorned with a gold plaque that reads “CEO Kim Hongjoong” and set down the iced Americano you picked up on your way in. You reach into your tote bag and retrieve a neatly organized file folder. Flipping it open, you scan through today’s itinerary, noting the key meetings and tasks that lie ahead. Once satisfied with your briefing, you close the folder and return it to your bag. You head to the front desk positioned just outside the CEO's office, and begin your morning tasks. Every day in the office has settled into a rhythm, a familiar routine that feels almost automatic.
“Good morning, Mr. Kim!” “Hello, Mr. Kim!” The greetings echo as your colleagues bow slightly, their respect palpable.
You rise from your chair, straightening your blouse, and offer a nonchalant nod, masking the exhaustion lingering just beneath the surface.
“Good morning, Mr. Kim,” you say as you bow, forcing a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes. Hongjoong approaches, his expression warm yet focused.
“Hello, Y/N. Have you prepared everything for today’s schedule?” he asks, moving past you toward his office.
“Yes, you have a meeting in an hour with a client…” you begin to relay the itinerary, following him inside. He settles into his chair, taking a sip of the Americano and nods in response.
“Also, I dealt with the complaints from the last exhibition. Everything’s been taken care of, just like you wanted,” you add, your tone casual, though the weight of your own issues tugs at your thoughts. Hongjoong looks up, a smile breaking across his face.
“That’s why I have you as my secretary, Miss Y/N. Thank you so much.”
You nod, the compliment momentarily brightening your mood, but it’s fleeting. You bow again before slipping out of the office. As the door closes behind you, you take a deep breath, pushing the worries from your relationship to the back of your mind, ready to tackle the day ahead with practiced indifference.
Throughout the morning, you flit in and out of meetings, accompanying Hongjoong as he navigates a flurry of tasks. The office is a hive of activity, and you move seamlessly between conversations, taking notes and organizing files, but the weight of your personal life hangs heavy in the back of your mind.
You glance at the clock on your desk: just thirty minutes until your hour break. A sigh escapes your lips, and you reach for your phone, hesitating. Siwoo’s message sits unread, a lingering question mark in your thoughts. You know you should respond, but the uncertainty of his invitation makes you hesitate. Is it pettiness that keeps you from reaching out, or a defense mechanism to shield your heart from further pain? You shake off the intrusive thoughts, forcing yourself to focus on the tasks at hand.
*Ding.* Your phone buzzes, drawing your attention. It’s another message from Siwoo.
Siwoo <3: I won’t be able to make it today. Something came up at work. Sorry.
You scoff under your breath, a bitter taste filling your mouth. His absence stings, but you’ve braced yourself for this—after all, it’s become a pattern.
Just then, Hongjoong’s voice crackles through the telephone intercom on your desk, interrupting your spiraling thoughts. “Miss Y/N, please come to my office.”
“Yes, sir,” you reply, rising from your seat with a practiced smile as you make your way into his office.
“What can I do for you, Mr. Kim?” you ask, your tone polite, carefully masking the frustration beneath the surface from Siwoo’s message.
Hongjoong leans back in his chair, his expression serious.
“I know you have your hour break in twenty minutes, but I just got off the phone with a potential client. They want to meet over lunch in a few minutes, and I need you to tag along to take notes. If you can wait on your break for another hour, I’ll cover your meal if you accompany me now.”
His words feel more like an instruction than a request, and you nod in response, pushing your personal frustrations aside.
“Of course, sir. Shall I call the chauffeur now?”
“No need,” he replies, grabbing his briefcase. “We’ll take my vehicle. I’ll drive.”
You nod and follow Hongjoong out of the building.
You settled into the passenger seat next to Hongjoong, the sleek interior of the car enveloping you. The rhythmic clicking of the turn signal punctuated the silence, while the soft murmur of the news on the radio served as a gentle backdrop.
“Miss Y/N, is everything alright?” Hongjoong's voice cut through the quiet, steady and attentive. You turned to him, slightly taken aback by his directness.
“Y-Yes, sir. What makes you concerned?” you replied, a hint of surprise coloring your voice. His eyes remained fixed on the road, focused yet perceptive.
“My top employee—my secretary—has been unusually quiet lately. You seem a bit off,” he remarked, expertly navigating the car into a parking lot. His concern was genuine, and you felt a flutter of warmth at his attention.
“I apologize if I gave that impression today, sir. I assure you, I’m alright,” you replied, straightening in your seat, trying to project confidence. Hongjoong parked the car and turned to face you, his expression serious.
“Y/N, I’m not just talking about today. You’ve been like this for a few days now. I don’t want to pry, but if something is bothering you, please let me know. You never slack off—well, not that I’ve noticed—but you’re a vital part of our team. If you’re not at your best, it affects us all, especially me. Let’s tackle any issues together, professionally.” His words carried a weight of understanding that took you by surprise.
You hesitated, unsure of how much to reveal.
“I… I apologize, sir. It’s just some personal issues in my relationship. I promise I won’t let it interfere with my work,” you said softly, your gaze dropping to your hands in your lap. You feared that honesty might blur the lines of your professional relationship.
Hongjoong regarded you with a thoughtful expression, his brow slightly furrowing. “Problems in your relationship?” he asked gently. You nodded, keeping your head bowed.
“Yes. I appreciate you asking,” you replied, feeling a rush of gratitude mixed with apprehension.
“Thank you for sharing that with me,” he said, his tone shifting back to his usual professional demeanor. “Let’s get to work.”
The next hour unfolded at a high-end restaurant, its luxurious ambiance creating the perfect setting for a business meeting. You sat next to Hongjoong, across from two potential clients, the atmosphere charged with opportunity. As they discussed plans for an upcoming exhibition, you diligently took notes, your mind sharpening as you transitioned into your role.
Hongjoong exuded charisma, ordering champagne and an array of exquisite appetizers while skillfully guiding the conversation. You admired the way he balanced authority with approachability, creating an atmosphere of collaboration.
———
As promised, Hongjoong granted you your hour break once you both returned to the office. The day had been packed with meetings and conversations, but you had already eaten at the restaurant, so instead of lingering in the bustling atmosphere of the office, you decided to find solace on the rooftop.
Ascending to the rooftop, you pushed open the heavy door, the cool air hitting your face like a refreshing wave. You walked over to one of the bistro tables, the metal surface gleaming under the midday sun. You sank into one of the chairs, letting out a deep sigh that released the pent-up stress from the morning. In your left hand, you cradled an iced Americano to keep you alert. In your right, you held your phone, its screen illuminating your face as you contemplated the text messages from Siwoo.
He should be off work by now, you thought, scrolling through the thread of messages. You hesitated, biting your lip, unsure of how to approach him. The uncertainty had lingered in your mind for days, and it felt like a weight on your chest. After a moment’s deliberation, you resolved to take initiative and give him a call.
You tapped his name, and set the phone on speaker. As the phone rang, the sound echoed in the serene space around you. It rang for what felt like an eternity until finally, you heard his voice on the other end, slightly breathless.
“H-hello? Y/N?” Siwoo stuttered, his tone hesitant.
“Siwoo, what are you doing?” you asked, trying to sound calm, though your heart raced with anticipation.
“Mmm, n-nothing much, just working out. I-I went to the gym after work,” he replied, punctuating his words with a grunt that surprised you. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. Since when did he ever work out?
You decided to push forward, hoping to reconnect. “Do you want to come over tonight? I’ll make dinner,” you offered, softening your voice as if trying to coax him back into your world.
“A-ahh, probably not tonight. I have to finish some work at h-home,” he stuttered again, his voice strained, as though he were struggling for breath.
Disappointment settled in your stomach, but you pressed on. “I can come over then, yeah? I’ll make you your favorite dish?” You mentally kicked yourself for even suggesting it, a flicker of doubt reminding you of all the times he had flaked out before.
“N-no, Y/N. I-It’s okay. A-ahh!” Siwoo grunted loudly, and a chill ran through you at the sound.
“Siwoo, what’s going on?!” You raised your voice slightly, urgency creeping in.
“I told you, Y/N. I’m working out. We can’t see each other tonight; I’m busy. I have to go,” he snapped, the finality in his tone cutting through the air like a knife. The line went dead, leaving you with only the echo of his voice. Your heart sank, a familiar ache running within you.
You stared at the phone in disbelief, the cool metal suddenly feeling heavy in your hand. How could he do this again? A mix of frustration and sadness swirled in your chest, and you felt a lump form in your throat. You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself, but it did little to quell the rising tide of emotions.
——
You glance at the small digits on your screen, the glowing numbers reading 8:00 PM. Your shift officially ended thirty minutes ago, but here you sat, a blend of dedication and denial keeping you tethered to your desk. Guilt washed over you, a stark reminder of Hongjoong’s earlier words. There was no point in heading home, not when the weight of unfinished tasks bore down on you. The quiet of your apartment would only invite sorrow, while the office, though nearly deserted, offered a comforting distraction.
The atmosphere had shifted; the energy of the day had given way to silence as colleagues trickled out, exchanging soft goodbyes. Each farewell came with a gentle reminder not to work too hard, and you managed a smile, masking the turmoil brewing inside you. Once they departed, you returned your focus to the glowing screen, rifling through files and diligently noting necessary information, your fingers a blur over the keyboard.
A flicker of light caught your eye—a warm streaming light from Hongjoong’s office. You raised an eyebrow in curiosity; you’d assumed he had left an hour ago. Shaking off the thoughts that threatened to wander, you turned back to your work.
“Y/N?” Hongjoong’s voice broke through your concentration. You looked up at him through your rectangular glasses that rested on your face. He cut an impressive figure, dressed in a fitted black dress shirt and a black vest that accentuated his shoulders.(What the fuck Y/N; he’s your boss.) You mentally scolded yourself, attempting to dismiss any inappropriate thoughts.
“O-Oh, yes sir?” you replied, setting your pen down on the desk.
“Your shift ended an hour ago. Why are you still here?” His brow arched in genuine curiosity, his tone both commanding and concerned.
“I’m just catching up on some work, sir. I apologize. I’ll be heading home soon,” you replied, striving for composure even as nerves danced in your stomach.
“Y/N, come to my office,” he said, his calm demeanor masking the authority in his request. You hesitated, uncertainty creeping in. Why did he want to speak in private, especially when the office was nearly empty?
Despite your reservations, you take off your glasses frames, place them on your desk and follow him into his office. The door clicking shut behind you, a sound that felt like a declaration. The dim light cast long shadows, enveloping the room. He sits at the edge of his desk with his arms crossed.
“What’s going on in your relationship?” Hongjoong asked, his tone direct yet oddly informal. The question hung in the air, leaving you momentarily stunned. Your eyes widened, and you felt a flush creeping up your neck.
“Sir, I don’t think it’s appropriate to talk about personal matters at work…” you managed to reply, your fingers fidgeting nervously as you avoided his gaze.
“It’s after work hours, Y/N. You can speak comfortably,” he said, his voice calm and soothing, yet imbued with a sharpness that conveyed he was not one to be easily dismissed. “I can tell something is wrong.”
You hesitated, the weight of his gaze making it difficult to formulate a response. A swirl of emotions crashed over you—fear of crossing professional boundaries mixed with the realization that perhaps he genuinely wanted to connect with you on a deeper level. Colleagues had often joked about how you and Hongjoong were like a married couple at work, a notion you had always brushed aside. The title felt cliché, almost childish, and you had preferred to maintain a strictly professional atmosphere.
But as you looked at him, a flicker of understanding passed between you. Maybe he wasn’t just playing the role of the CEO tonight. Perhaps he truly wanted to understand what you were going through. You took a deep breath, your heart racing as you considered opening up.
“We have… just been distant lately,” you say hesitantly, the words slipping out with reluctance. “Our schedules don’t seem to be aligning, and our communication is off. That is all, sir.” You glance at him, searching for a response.
He hums thoughtfully, nodding in acknowledgment. “Shall I… cut your hours? Maybe find a second secretary to fill in while you get to spend more time with your significant other?” His voice carried a teasing lilt, yet there was an undercurrent of seriousness that sent a rush of heat to your cheeks.
“N-no, sir!” The words escaped your lips almost too hastily, an instinctive reaction that made you feel slightly embarrassed. Hongjoong chuckled, his head lowering momentarily before he lifted it again, locking eyes with you.
“So, is it his schedule that’s not cooperating with yours?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. You nodded in silence, the weight of your emotions pressing down as you considered the truth behind your answer.
“Mm… interesting.” Hongjoong tapped his chin thoughtfully, the wheels of his mind clearly turning. Curiosity prickled at you; what was going through his head? You couldn’t help but wonder about the direction this conversation was taking.
“Y/N, if you don’t mind me asking, what does your partner do for a living?” he asked, his tone calm and inviting.
“He’s a professor at the university located downtown,” you replied softly, your voice barely above a whisper, as if sharing a secret.
“A professor?” Hongjoong mused, a hint of skepticism coloring his tone. “I doubt their schedules are that busy compared to yours—a full-time secretary for a well-known company.” He dropped his hands into his pockets, his gaze intent and probing.
“Are you sure you should be concerned about his schedule? Maybe… it’s something more?” Hongjoong added nonchalantly, his casual demeanor contrasting sharply with the seriousness of his implication.
You felt a wave of confusion wash over you. What was he suggesting? Your mind raced, trying to decipher his words. Was he implying that the distance in your relationship could be rooted in something deeper than just busy schedules? The thought unsettled you, but a part of you was intrigued by his concern. You hesitated, caught in a web of uncertainty as you considered how to respond.
“I—I’m not sure what you mean, sir…” you murmured, your gaze dropping to your black heels, the polished tips reflecting the dim light of the office.
“Come here, Y/N,” Hongjoong said, his voice a blend of softness and authority that sent a shiver down your spine. Almost instinctively, you found your feet moving toward him, the rhythmic click of your pumps echoing softly against the floor as you approached. You stopped just in front of his black loafers, your heart racing in your chest.
“Closer,” he instructed, his voice lowering, deepening with an intensity that made you catch your breath. You stepped forward, positioning yourself between his slightly parted legs, the air thick with unspoken tension.
His hand reached out, a gentle yet firm grasp settling on your waist. You gasped in shock, the unexpected warmth of his touch flooding through you. This is wrong, you thought, panic stirring within, but something deeper held you in place, a pull that made it difficult to consider pulling away. Instead, you stood there, caught in a moment that felt both exhilarating and terrifying.
“Maybe…” Hongjoong began, his thumb rubbing softly against the fabric of your blouse, the gentle motion both soothing and unsettling.
“your partner is being unfaithful…?” The words hung heavy in the air, a sentence that felt like a blade slicing through your gut.
A part of you recoiled at the thought, refusing to believe it. Yet, as you stood there, something nagged at you, a whisper of doubt that you couldn’t shake. The realization that he might be right crept in like a shadow, darkening your thoughts. Stupidly, your heart leaped to defend Siwoo, the man you cared for, even as uncertainty gnawed at you.
“Mr. Kim, I don’t appreciate you assuming that,” you replied quietly, your voice barely above a whisper as you stared between the gap of Hongjoong’s legs that revealed the floor, refusing to meet his gaze.
“You don’t know our relationship, so please do not accuse him of such acts…” you added, your tone a fragile mixture of firmness and vulnerability. As the words left your lips, you felt your eyes begin to well with tears, confusion and anger swirling within you. You trusted Siwoo; you had to. But the doubts Hongjoong had planted took root, and you didn’t understand why he was suddenly acting like this.
You wanted to leave, to escape the charged atmosphere and the unsettling intimacy of the moment, but your feet remained stuck to the floor. Deep down, beneath the rising tide of panic, you recognized that you craved the odd comfort Hongjoong provided, a warmth that felt so different from the turmoil in your heart.
Suddenly, a whimper escaped your lips, a sound that surprised you as tears began to cascade down your cheeks, dropping onto Hongjoong’s lap.
“Oh, baby…” Hongjoong cooed, his voice laced with a tenderness. You gasped at the sudden pet name. With a gentle yet deliberate movement, his unoccupied hand reached toward your face, lifting your chin slightly so that he could wipe away the tears that streamed relentlessly down. Your eyes however, still refusing to look at him. The warmth of his touch sent a shiver through you, and your heart raced at the intimacy of the moment.
“You defend him, yet you’re crying,” he observed, his voice low and soothing, but his words only added to the turmoil within you. It was as if he could see right through the facade you had tried to maintain. As his hand, previously resting on your waist, moved to the other side of your face, you felt the weight of his palms cupping your cheeks, an act of reassurance that both calmed and stirred your emotions.
“Look at me, Y/N” Hongjoong softly demands. Your pretty eyes look at him. Sparkling from the tears that are still streaming down your face slowly. Hongjoong bit his lip, fighting to maintain his composure, though he couldn’t help but think how fucken pretty you look when you cried… how vulnerable.
“I’m sorry for assuming,” he continued, his tone tender yet firm. “It was unprofessional of me. I was just trying to express my concerns.” His fingers brushed against your skin as he gently cupped your face, his thumbs softly stroking away the remnants of your tears. “I don’t want to see you cry anymore, okay?”
Confusion swirled within you, a mix of gratitude and uncertainty. What was Hongjoong doing? His touch sent conflicting signals through your mind, making it hard to decipher the intentions behind his kindness. You felt your heart race as he held your gaze, searching for answers that remained elusive.
“Let me take you home. It’s getting late.” He reluctantly withdrew his hands, the warmth of his touch lingering on your skin. Hongjoong lightly tapped your waist,
“Okay?” he asked again, his voice softening as he sought your approval. You nodded, your heart fluttering as you looked into his eyes, those doe-like orbs filled with an innocence that belied the complexities of your situation. The air between you was thick with unspoken words, each moment stretching out as you found solace in his presence, even amidst the confusion.
———
The car glided smoothly along the quiet streets, the only sounds breaking the stillness were the gentle notes floating from the radio and the rhythmic tapping of Hongjoong’s fingers on the steering wheel. Each beat resonated with the unspoken tension lingering between you, a subtle backdrop to the whirlwind of thoughts spinning in your mind.
As the car pulled up in front of your apartment building, you felt a mix of relief and reluctance. The evening air was cool against your skin as you unbuckled your seatbelt and gathered your bags, the weight of the day still heavy on your shoulders.
“Thank you for the ride, Mr. Kim,” you said, bowing your head slightly, unable to meet his gaze. It was a gesture of politeness, but it felt more like a shield, protecting you from the warmth of his soft smile that you could sense even without looking.
“No worries, Miss Y/N. I’ll see you Monday,” he replied, his voice soft but filled with an unshakeable confidence. You heard the warmth in his tone, even as you turned away and walked towards the entrance of your apartment building, his farewell echoing in your ears.
The elevator ride felt interminable as you ascended to your floor, each ding of the buttons amplifying the heaviness in your chest. Finally, you stepped into your small apartment, the familiar space offering little comfort. You dragged your feet toward your room, exhaustion pulling you down, both physically and emotionally.
Once inside, you kicked off your heels, the sharp clack against the floor a welcome relief. You stripped off your clothes with a mindless haste, leaving only your undergarments as you collapsed onto your bed. The cool sheets enveloped you, but they couldn’t ease the confusion swirling in your thoughts.
With a deep, resigned sigh, you sank into the mattress, your mind replaying fragments of your conversation with Hongjoong.
In a moment of desperation, you reached for your phone, dialing Siwoo’s number. The ringing felt like an eternity, and when it went to voicemail, a knot tightened in your stomach. You glanced at the clock—10 PM. Another attempt led to the same unyielding voicemail. Frustration filled within you, mixing with a pang of anxiety that settled in your chest.
You closed your eyes, trying to steady your breathing. The coolness of the room contrasted sharply with the heat of your thoughts. Slowly, memories of Hongjoong flooded your mind—his perfect figure leaning casually against the desk, his strong hand lingering on your arm, the gentle caress of his fingers against your face.
Your heart ached, not for Siwoo, but for Hongjoong. You suddenly craved his comforting and reassuring voice. His lingering touch on your skin. Your legs close together as you feel a wave of warmth between your thighs. Your hands moved down your soft skin, reaching towards your heat…
You gasp softly, shaking your head, trying to dismiss these feelings. This wasn’t supposed to be happening. You shouldn’t be thinking about him like this. Hongjoong is your Boss. And plus you have Siwoo. Your… loving boyfriend.
The weight of silence wraps around you like a thick fog, pressing down on your chest as you lie in bed, staring at the ceiling. You can’t shake the feeling that these spiraling thoughts. In frustration you convince yourself that you’re probably just deprived of touch from your significant other.
With sudden resolve, you push yourself up from the tangled sheets, the cool air sending a shiver down your spine, and head towards the bathroom. Turning on the water, you let your thoughts drown in the hot water. Making your way back to your room, you slowly dry off and change into pajamas.
As your head hits the pillow, a sense of calm envelops you, pulling you into a deep slumber. The world outside fades, and for the first time in ages, you allow yourself to drift away, hoping that tomorrow will bring a spark of connection back into your life.
———
The first rays of sunlight filtered through the blinds, casting soft stripes across your home office. You’re working from home today, since Hongjoong isn’t in office on the weekends. You sat your desk with a steaming cup of coffee cradled in your hands, you let the aroma fill your senses, the rich, dark liquid fueling your focus as your fingers typing across the keyboard.
The rhythmic sound of your typing created a serene atmosphere until it was interrupted by a sharp buzz from the apartment door.
Setting your coffee down, you pushed back your chair and stood, feeling a strange mix of anticipation and dread as you approached the door. Taking a deep breath, you swung it open, and your heart dropped. Standing there, looking both sheepish and regretful, was Siwoo, clutching a bouquet of flowers.
“Y/N, honey, I’m so sorry for flaking out on you so many times,” he said with a fake pout.
A year ago, you would have melted at this display. You might have accepted his half-assed apology with a smile, the flowers a token of his remorse. But today, your mind raced with reminders of all the times he had done this before. The constant stand-ups, the empty promises, the fleeting moments of connection overshadowed by disappointment.
Your heart ached, not with the sweet pang of love but with the heavy weight of frustration. You stood there, staring at him, emotions swirling within you like a storm. Hurt and upset battled against the tenderness that still lingered for him. You could feel the walls you had carefully built in the past months tightening around you, whispering that this was a cycle you were tired of repeating.
But your heart, foolishly hopeful, betrayed you. Before you could think it through, you found yourself reaching for the bouquet, inhaling the sweet scent of fresh blooms. Then, without a second thought, you pulled him into a tight embrace. As his arms wrapped around you, the familiar warmth flooded back, and you felt your resolve waver.
In that moment, you wanted to believe that this time would be different. Yet beneath the surface, a deeper ache throbbed—a desperate question lingered in your mind: why do you keep doing this to me?
As the hours unfolded, Siwoo settled into a chair across from your desk, his laptop open and papers scattered around him. The familiar hum of shared work surrounded you, a scene that once brought you joy. He would glance up occasionally, flashing you a smile that was meant to soothe the tension in the air. Yet, despite the comforting proximity, your heart was locked in a battle against the memories of hurt he had inflicted upon you.
You tried to push those thoughts aside, forcing yourself to focus on the tasks at hand. Still, they lingered like unwelcome shadows, flitting in and out of your consciousness. Each time Siwoo laughed at something on his screen or leaned back with a satisfied sigh, a part of you wanted to bask in the moment, to let yourself feel the happiness he once brought. But the other part—a weary, wiser part—reminded you of the countless times he had let you down.
Your mind already flooded with so many issues, decided to remind you of last night’s conversation with Hongjoong—the way he spoke to you, his touch… The longing for deeper connections hung heavily on your mind, teasing you with confusion.
You caught Siwoo watching you, a flicker of concern crossing his face. “Hey, you okay?” he asked, his voice breaking through your reverie.
You forced a smile, nodding slightly. “Yeah, just thinking about work.”
———
Throughout the day, with Siwoo at your side, a disquieting realization settled in your chest: you felt less like his girlfriend and more like a maid. He moved to lounge in your living room, casually asking for snacks and drinks while you sat at your desk, trying to concentrate on your work. Each request chipped away at your patience, drawing a line between the intimate moments you once cherished and the mundane reality of this interaction.
Glancing over, you caught sight of him: relaxed, almost carefree, tapping away on his phone with a soft laugh escaping his lips. Maybe it was Hongjoong’s words playing tricks on you, but a knot twisted in your stomach as you watched Siwoo, feeling an unfamiliar ick wash over you. It felt as though he was taking advantage of your hospitality, oblivious to the growing frustration bubbling within you.
“Oh, Y/N, can I borrow some money?” Siwoo asked, his voice casual, his eyes glued to the screen as he continued to chuckle at whatever amused him.
“May I ask why?” You replied softly, a frown creasing your brow as confusion settled in.
“I need to buy new materials for work. It’s required for all professors, and I’m just short by a few bucks,” he explained, his gaze still firmly fixed on his phone.
You raised an eyebrow, skepticism creeping in. “Doesn’t the university cover materials for professors?”
“Mmm, not this time. Please?” he said, finally looking up at you, his irritating smile brightening his face as if he expected you to fold under the charm.
Taking a deep breath, you felt the tension in your chest tighten, but you nodded anyway, wiring him a sum that was likely more than he needed. Maybe it was an act of guilt or an old habit of wanting to keep the peace.
“Thanks, honey. You’re the best!” he said, standing up and slinging his bag over his shoulder. The grin on his face widened as he returned to his phone, engrossed once more in whatever had captured his attention.
“Y—you’re leaving so soon?” The words spilled out before you could stop them, a mix of desperation and disappointment. “I’m almost done with work. Let’s have dinner…”
He turned to you, his expression unchanged. “Maybe another day, Y/N. I have to head back to the campus.”
With that, he walked out without a backward glance, leaving you standing there, a swirl of emotions crashing against one another. As the door clicked shut, the weight of his absence pressed heavily on your heart, mingling with the irritation that had been building all day.
——
The weekend slipped away in a blur, its fleeting hours vanishing like sand through fingers. As you stepped into the office on Monday morning, you glanced around the workspace, filled with the scent of fresh coffee and the faint rustle of papers, and realized you wanted to be here. The thought of Hongjoong entered your mind unbidden. You couldn’t help but remember the conversations that had left you feeling confused but wanting more.
But you quickly pushed those thoughts aside, chastising yourself. This wasn’t the time for daydreams. You were his secretary, bound by professional decorum. It was crucial to maintain composure, to focus on your tasks and responsibilities. After all, any semblance of personal feelings could only complicate matters.
“Good morning, Mr. Kim,” you said, bowing slightly from your desk as he entered his office, and you follow behind him. The air felt charged with unspoken tension, a remnant of the incident that had unfolded just days prior, a moment you both seemed to ignore.
“Good morning, Miss Y/N,” Hongjoong replied, a hint of a smile playing on his lips as he settled into his chair behind the desk. His eyes flickered momentarily to the iced Americano you had picked up for him earlier, the cool condensation glistening against the glass.
“What is the schedule for today?” he asked, leaning back in his chair, his posture relaxed, but you could sense the sharpness in his gaze as it remained fixed on you.
Clearing your throat, you began to relay the day’s itinerary, focusing intently on your notes. “We have the marketing meeting at ten, followed by the conference call with the investors at noon.” You spoke steadily, but your heart raced, memories of that night creeping back into your mind—a fleeting brush of his hands, the way his gaze had pierced through the façade of professionalism.
Hongjoong listened, nodding occasionally, but there was an air of distraction about him, too. He was acting as if nothing had happened, and you were determined to do the same, though it felt like walking a tightrope. You maintained your composure, forcing yourself to keep your voice steady and professional as you continued.
His expression remained neutral, but there was an undercurrent of something unspoken between you. You stole a glance at him, noting how the light caught the edges of his features, the way he effortlessly commanded the space around him.
“And finally,” you added, pushing the memories further down, “we have a team meeting at four to discuss the new project timeline.”
As you finished, a heavy silence settled in the room, punctuated only by the soft sound of his drink being set down on the desk. You met his gaze, feeling the weight of the unacknowledged moment hanging in the air. “Thank you, Y/N,” Hongjoong said, his voice smooth as he rose from his chair. The brief moment of gratitude hung in the air between you, creating a small, intimate space in an otherwise professional atmosphere. You bowed slightly in acknowledgment, the familiar gesture a part of your daily routine, before you turned on your heels, ready to leave the room.
“Wait a moment,” he called out just as you reached the door. You paused, your heart skipping a beat, then turned back to face him.
“Yes, sir?” you replied, your voice steady but your mind racing.
“How are you doing?” he asked, the question casual yet layered with an unexpected warmth. The simplicity of it took you aback, a small flicker of surprise igniting within you.
“I—I’m well, sir. Thank you for asking.” You stumbled over your words slightly, an involuntary shyness creeping in. “How about you?” You returned the question out of politeness.
“That’s good to hear, Y/N,” he replied, his soft smile breaking through the formalities and lighting up the room. “I’m doing fine as well.”
You nodded, the warmth of his expression lingering in the air as you took in the moment. “I’ll get back to my work then,” you said, turning once more to leave.
As you stepped out of his office, the door closing softly behind you, you made your way back to your desk, the echo of his words and that fleeting smile still resonating within you.
——
Once you stepped out of Hongjoong’s office, he sank back into his chair, the weight of the world settling on his shoulders as his thoughts turned inward, swirling around you. He couldn’t deny the fondness he felt. From the moment you had started working as his secretary, you had made it clear that you were in a serious relationship. He respected your loyalty, admired it even, but it didn’t erase the growing complexity of his own feelings for you.
As he gazed out the window, memories flooded back, particularly the recent lunch meeting on Friday. You had accompanied him at the last minute, and during the drive, when you admitted to him about your relationship struggles. The admission struck him deeply—he felt a flicker of triumph at your honesty, a selfish part of him celebrating. Yet, mingled with that spark was a simmering anger; the man you were with was clearly causing you distress.
After returning to the office, you took your promised hour break, and Hongjoong found himself drawn to the rooftop. He hadn’t intended to pry; he simply wanted to offer words of encouragement, to lift your spirits. But as he approached, he overheard your phone ring and the familiar cadence of your voice pick up the call. A sinking feeling took root in his stomach when he recognized the voice on the other end—Siwoo, your boyfriend.
He paused at the steel door, unable to resist the urge to listen. Siwoo’s breathless tone was unmistakable, the hurried speech revealing more than mere exertion from a workout. Hongjoong's heart raced as he deduced the truth— Any man would know, this was not the voice of a faithful partner. The realization struck him like a punch; this man had the audacity to take your call while clearly entangled in something inappropriate.
A rush of guilt washed over him as he retreated to his office, grappling with the anger that grew beneath the surface. How could someone hurt you, an innocent, kind, and beautiful person? He felt torn, wanting to protect you while recognizing the boundaries he had vowed to uphold.
In the hours that followed, a storm of thoughts brewed within him. It was reckless, perhaps, but the idea of bringing you into his office after hours began to take root. He wanted to voice his concerns casually. But when you began to softly cry, that’s when he felt the line blur. The sight of your flushed cheeks, your pretty doe-like eyes glistening with unshed tears— (fuck, he shouldn’t be thinking like that).
Hongjoong pulled back from his reminiscent thoughts, deciding it was best to let you navigate this situation on your own. Maybe you would uncover the truth about Siwoo, perhaps the pieces would fall into place. But the uncertainty gnawed at him, and as he sat in his office, he couldn’t help but wonder how much longer he could contain his feelings, how much longer he could remain a silent observer to your heartache.
Fuck it? Hongjoong thought to himself. Siwoo deserves a taste of his own medicine.
Hongjoong scoffed to himself at his idea as he sipped on his coffee.
———
The workday unfolded in its usual rhythm, a blur of emails, calls, and the occasional paperwork that seemed to multiply by the hour. You navigated through the tasks with a practiced efficiency, though your mind occasionally drifted to the flurry of messages buzzing on your phone. Each notification from Siwoo felt like a weight pressing down on you, filled with meaningless apologies, and pleads to wire money for some other things, god knows what he needed it for.
With a deep breath, you made the decision to ignore his messages for now. You turned your focus back to your work, fingers typing over the keyboard, pouring your energy into the tasks at hand.
As you typed, the sound of footsteps drew your attention. You looked up to find Hongjoong standing before your desk, his presence commanding yet familiar. He had a way of drawing you in, and for a moment, the chaos of your personal life faded into the background.
“Miss Y/N, please come to my office after work hours,” he said, his tone smooth yet imbued with a seriousness that piqued your curiosity. He turned and strode into his office, leaving you with a flurry of thoughts.
“Yes, sir,” you replied softly, your voice barely above a whisper as you watched him go.
With a sigh, you returned to your work, the clock ticking steadily toward the end of the day. Each keystroke felt heavier as the minutes dragged on, and the anticipation of your meeting with Hongjoong lingered like a sweet ache in your heart.
———
As the final colleagues trickled out of the building, the quiet hum of the office began to settle into an echo of solitude. You sighed as you recalled Hongjoong’s instructions. Straightening your buttoned blouse and smoothing down your skirt, you prepared yourself for whatever awaited you in his office.
You knocked softly, the sound barely breaking the silence.
“Come in,” Hongjoong’s voice resonated through the door. You opened it slowly and stepped inside, closing it behind you with a soft click.
Hongjoong was seated at his desk, his white dress shirt sleeves rolled up, revealing strong forearms accentuated by a dark tie. The sight of him brought a swirl of emotions; he exuded an effortless charisma that both intimidated and drew you in.
“You wanted to see me, sir?” you said, your gaze fixed on the floor, an attempt to hide the mix of anxiety and curiosity swelling inside you.
“Yes, please come here, Y/N,” he replied, his voice calm and low. As you approached him, the familiar sound of your heels clicking against the polished floor echoed in your mind, reminding you of the similar situation a few days ago in this very spot.
“Please, sit,” he gestured toward the chair in front of his desk. You took a seat, positioning yourself at the edge, an instinctive reaction born from uncertainty.
Hongjoong rose from his chair and began to circle around the desk, a pen spinning effortlessly between his slender fingers. The movement was fluid, almost hypnotic, and it pulled your attention as you tried to read his expression.
“Miss Y/N,” he began, pausing for a moment, “you’re one of my smartest employees, correct?” His gaze remained focused elsewhere, a slight distance in his eyes.
“Th—thank you, sir. I—” you started, but his voice cut through your response.
“A person with an important job like yours requires a lot of skill, attentiveness… and have the ability assess the environment around the office, Correct?”
“Yes… that is correct, sir,” you replied quietly, maintaining eye contact,
“Would you agree that you have been lacking some of these skills, Y/N?” Hongjoong stopped infront of you, sitting at the edge of his desk. His arms crossed over his chest, revealing the strong veins that ran along his forearms, an unconscious display of his physicality that made your heart race.
“I—I haven’t noticed, sir. I apologize if I haven’t been performing well…” The words tumbled out, anxiety creeping in. Were you about to get fired? The thought sent a chill through you, and you mentally recoiled at the prospect of your life spiraling further down.
“I’m not going to fire you, Y/N,” he said, and your eyes widened in surprise; it was as if he had plucked the thought straight from your mind.
“I’m not really following this conversation, sir…” you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper as you began to fidget with your fingers in your lap, seeking any distraction from the mounting tension.
Hongjoong released a frustrated sigh, and suddenly he pushed himself off the edge of the desk, stepping toward you slowly. His strong arms landed on the armrests of your chair, effectively trapping you in place. He leaned in closer, the proximity forcing you to lean back into the seat, a gasp escaping your lips at the sudden intimacy of the moment.
The air between you thickened. You could feel the heat radiating from him, the sharpness of his gaze holding you captive.
He scoffed, the corner of his lip turning into a smirk as he looked down. His eyes landed on the unbuttoned opening of your shirt. He sees your chest breathing up and down in anticipation. He looks up, gazes at your lips quickly before looking into your eyes.
“For someone so pretty and smart, you’re quite naive” He chuckles. A rush of heat seeps into your cheeks. You’re at a loss for words. You don’t know how to respond, so you opt to stay silent.
“Miss Y/N” Hongjoong says sternly in a soft voice.
“Yes, Sir?” You quietly reply back.
“Can you assess the environment in this office right now?” His voice is a whisper.
“U—Uhm…” you stutter, not knowing what to say. Hongjoong chuckles at your flustered expression.
“Let me give you a hint, Y/N” Hongjoong whispers and leans in closer, his presence enveloping you like a warm wave. Then, in a moment that felt both thrilling and terrifying, his lips brushed against yours. Your eyes widened in shock. This is wrong, a voice in your mind screamed. You shouldn’t be doing this. But as much as you tried to summon the strength to pull away, your body betrayed you.
His lips were soft, warm, and surprisingly gentle as they molded against yours, igniting a fire that swept through you. The worries around you faded, leaving only the two of you suspended in this unexpected moment. It felt as if time had stopped, your heartbeat loud in your ears, drowning out the rational thoughts that screamed for you to stop.
As he finally pulled away, the distance felt electric, charged with a lingering intimacy. His gaze searched yours, earnest and intense. “Do you understand now?” he murmured, his breath warm against your skin. You nod slowly.
“Do you want me to stop?” He asks softly as he looks at your plush lips. You hesitate, unsure of what to say. All you know is that you want whatever lingering feelings Hongjoong has bestowed on you. As much as you know it’s wrong, you can’t help but crave him.
In response to his question, You shake your head in protest. His thumb caresses your chin tilting your head to look up at him.
“Use your words baby.” Hongjoong’s voice is low as he stares into your eyes, searching for an answer.
“Please… don’t stop sir.” You say quietly. Hongjoong smirks and pulls way from you. You look at him confused. His position is sat back onto the edge of his desk.
“Show me you want it too Y/N” He’s teasing you. Wanting to see how far you’re willing to go. Knowing that deep inside, as much as you want this you still feel a tiny ounce of guilt from being unfaithful to your partner. Regardless, You rise from the chair and make your way to Hongjoong. You position yourself between his legs that are slightly spread and place both your arms on his shoulders. You lean forward and kiss him. Hongjoong returns the kiss almost immediately. He can feel himself already growing hard as his lips move against yours. His hands are securely gripped onto your waist bringing you closer to him. He deepens the kiss and swipes his tongue over the bottom of your lip. In response your mouth opens as you release a whimper. Both of your tongues now move together skillfully, resulting in a moan from both of you. As the heated make-out session continues, you notice Hongjoong’s arm pushing away some papers and other items on the desk behind him.
Smoothly, Hongjoong moves your position, his strong arms swiftly carry your body onto the desk. You are now sat on top of the cold wood, arms wrapped around his neck, as he continued to devour your lips. You slightly pull back in attempt to catch your breath. You’re a panting mess, and so is he. Hongjoong however doesn’t want to stop. He pecks your lips, before leaving a trail kisses from the corner of your mouth, to your soft cheek, and finally to your slender neck. Shivers were sent throughout your body as Hongjoong left soft warm kisses on your neck.
“A—ah Sir…” you whimpered quietly. Hongjoong hummed in response as he began to leave opened mouth kisses on your skin.
Hongjoong pushed your legs apart, your skirt already slightly hiked up from him placing you on the desk moments ago. Revealing your exposed thighs, Hongjoong’s hands moved from knees, and traveled up your soft plush thighs, causing you to close them in an instinct, but his strong arms prevent you, keeping them open.
His lips trails up to your ear nibbles on your lobe before whispering softly, “I want you to say my name okay?” You nod in response.
His hands moved dangerously closer to your heat that was radiating from your exposed thighs, but he stops, he was teasing you. His hands caressed your inner thighs, not daring to move closer as he continued to kiss your neck and face. His lips found his way back to yours and takes it in softly.
You whimper against his mouth and he slowly pulls away.
“What’s wrong baby?” His voice is so soft, sending another heat wave down your body.
“Please… touch me, sir” you say sheepishly.
“I told you Y/N, I want you to say my name.” Hongjoong’s grip on your thighs tighten, causing you to whimper in pain and pleasure.
“H—Hongjoong…” your soft, angelic voice echoed in his ears as his name rolled off your tongue.
“Yeah baby?” He tries to hold back a groan, already so turned on by you calling his name.
“Hongjoong, touch me… please?” You plead with your doe eyes staring at him. Hongjoong bites his lip as he looks at your pretty, desperate face.
“Fuck, Y/N… you make me do stupid shit” He curses under his breath before devouring your lips once again.
This time, his hands finally touch your warm clothed pussy. You moan at his touch. His fingers slowly rub against your clit, creating a friction against the fabric of your underwear. Instinctively, you wrap your arms around his neck tighter. Moaning into his lips as he continues to rub you.
Unexpectedly, tears began to well up in the corner of your eyes. Not in pain, not in discomfort, but in a frustrating pleasure.
“Hong—j-joong, stop teasing please” You whimper as he slightly pulls away. He looks at your face, tears slowly falling down. He smirks, “Mm such a dirty brat, crying for me…” He degrades you in a low tone.
His hands find the hem of your underwear, and he skillfully pulls them down. They rest at the ankles of your legs, stopped by your heels that restricted them from falling to the floor. Hongjoong’s left arm cradles your back, as his right hand pushes up your skirt more to reveal your bare wet pussy.
“Fuck… so wet already just from me kissing you, and barely touching you?” He teases you, even though he too is already so rock hard in his slacks, from just kissing and touching you.
His hand makes his way to your clit. The soft bud of his middle and ring finger gently rubs circles, causing you to hold back a moan. Skillfully, his fingers dip down to your entrance, not fully going inside you, just enough to collect your wet fluids, and bring them back up to your clit. He rubs it again, slowly picking up the pace.
Your right hand drops behind you as it land on the desk, supporting your weight. You slightly throw your head back and cover your mouth with your unoccupied arm trying to hide your moans.
“Let me fucken hear you moan baby. No one is here. Just you and me” Hongjoong groans in your ear. His voice turned you on so much, resulting in a soft moan slipping from your lips.
Hongjoong’s fingers make their way to your entrance. Slipping in your tight folds. You gasp and grab onto his shoulder. He pumps his fingers slowly, as he studies your facial expressions. Your eyes are sparkling from the previous tears you shed. Your glossy lips slightly parted as you released soft moans.
“So fucken pretty” Hongjoong moans as he leans down to kiss your forehead. The gentle gesture, mixed with his lewd actions makes your stomach turn in a good way. He begins to pick up the pace. The office room is silent, with only the sounds of your mixed moans, pants, and the wetness of your folds fapping against Hongjoong’s hand.
Your mind begins to get fuzzy as you feel an orgasm near by. Hongjoong feels your pussy tighten around his digits, he chuckles before he slowly pulls his fingers out of you. You whine in protest, frustration builds up in you, you were so close. Your arm around his neck tugs him closer, reaching for his lips, wanting to feel some sort of physical contact. But he pulls away from you. Completely. He steps back and looks at your figure.
You furrow your eyebrows in confusion, an unsettling knot tightening in your stomach. Why did he stop? Just moments ago, the air had felt charged with lust, and now it hung heavy with an unspoken tension. A flood of negative thoughts surged through your mind, drowning out any remnants of clarity. Embarrassment crept in, a heat rising to your cheeks, making you feel exposed and vulnerable. Guilt wrapped around you like a heavy cloak, its weight almost suffocating. You could feel the sting of tears pooling in your eyes, the familiar ache of despair threatening to spill over. In a swift, instinctive motion, you cast your gaze downward, as if to shield yourself from the world around you. Your heart raced as quiet whimpers escaped your lips.
Hongjoong watches you as you softly cry. He tries not to loose his composure. The cute look of confusion on your face makes him feral.
“Aww baby… why are you crying hm?” Hongjoong’s voice is raspy. He tilts his head, trying to get a good look at your flushed face. You can’t find yourself to respond, only sniffles and soft whimpers can be heard.
“You know… to be completely honest Y/N…” the sound of Hongjoong’s belt unbuckling fills the air. You glance at him with your doe eyes.
“When I told you… I don’t want to see you cry anymore…” He slings his belt off his pants and drops it to the floor. His hands moving towards the button of his slacks. He shifts towards your body, and leans close to your face.
“I actually meant… I don’t want to see you cry for anyone else but me.” Your eyes widen at his statement. He chuckles at your expression and grabs your hands. He brings them towards his hard mound covered by the soft fabric of his pants.
“You look so fucken pretty when you cry. It turns me on so much. Knowing that you feel so good, you can’t help but shed a few tears” He moans as you begin to instinctively rub your hands on his huge hard on.
“Help me out baby. Be a good girl” Hongjoong whispers to you, and you nod. He smiles at your response. You make your way off the desk, and position yourself on your knees. You slowly unzip Hongjoong’s pants and pull them down along with his trousers. His hard, long cock springs out and softly hits your face. You gasp at the sudden sight. Earning a chuckle from him.
“Open your mouth.” He demands softly. Your lips part, tongue slightly sticking out, as you take Hongjoong’s length in. He releases a loud groan. Cursing under his breath as you begin to slowly bob your head up and down. You twirl your tongue a few times over his tip, causing him to tightly grip onto your soft hair.
“F—Fuck baby…” Hongjoong throws his head back.
“… damn, your boyfriend is this lucky and can’t even fucken appreciate you” You freeze at the sudden statement, and Hongjoong smirks as he scoffs. In response, he begins to thrust into your mouth slowly. You moan on his cock as he begins to shove himself deeper into your mouth. You tap Hongjoong’s leg, and he pulls you off him instantly. You gasp for air, a string of saliva connecting from your lip to his cock, as you begin to cough. Hongjoong chuckles, caressing your hair.
“Stand up” He demands. And in an instant you’re on your feet. Hongjoong swiftly lifts you up and places you back onto the desk. His hands are hastily unbuttoning your blouse as he kisses your lips. You moan, furrowing your brows, still thinking about the humiliating statement Hongjoong said. Something about his touch is so intoxicating, making you want more. Making you not care about anything in your reality.
As Hongjoong releases the last button on your blouse, he quickly pushes your shirt off, revealing your black lacy bra filled by your perfect plush breasts. His hands grace over your chest, sending shivers down your spine. He kisses the exposed skin of your breast. His hands moving towards the straps, as he pulls them off. He reaches behind you and skillfully releases the clasps of your bra. The black lace drops swiftly revealing your perfect boobs.
“So fucken perfect for me baby.” Hongjoong whispers as he gropes them with his hands. You moan at his touch. He takes one in his mouth and laps at your nipples, resulting in you throwing your head back in pleasure.
“H—Hongjoong” you moan his name, he hums in response, still working on your breasts.
“Want.. m—more” you stutter under his touch.
He pulls away from you and pants, trying to calm himself down.
“Want more what?” He cocks an eyebrow at you. You pout, too embarrassed to verbally say what you want from him.
“Tell me now, or I’ll leave you here” Hongjoong threatens as he begins to pump himself, already knowing what you want. But he still wants to hear the words from your mouth.
“I want… you inside me… please?” You whimper in embarrassment. You look at him and you see a spark of excitement in his eyes as he smirks at you.
“Atta girl. Wasn’t so hard to say right?” He teases you as he brings himself closer to your pussy. Your breath increases as he places his tip right at the entrance. He only inserts his head before pulling out, repeating the gesture a few times. You whine as a tear falls from your eyes.
“Quit being a fucken brat” Hongjoong hisses at you bringing a gentle hand to your face as he wipes the tear away. Finally, He pushes his whole length inside you, earning a loud yelp from you. His cock instantly hits your sensitive spot and you cling onto his arms. He pauses inside of you, letting you adjust to his size. You’re definitely not used to his large length and thick girth, he’s stretching you out so good.
“Damn baby, you’re so tight? Your boyfriend isn’t big enough huh?” Hongjoong snickers at you. You whine at the sudden mention of your boyfriend again. It’s like he wants to remind you of him on purpose. To humiliate you. Hongjoong begins a slow pace inside you. Grunting as he moves against you.
“Answer me…” he demands, his hand cups your chin to force your gaze on him.
“H—he isn’t big enough. Y—you’re bigger Hongjoong…” You moan as he thrusts deeper.
“You… make me feel s—so good” You close your eyes as you take in the pleasure running through your body. Hongjoong manically smiles. Ecstatic at your response.
“Yeah?” He teases. Picking up his pace. The sound of your sweet moans heighten, the wet sounds of you two slapping against each other fill the room along with Hongjoong’s dirty words.
“Bet you, he doesn’t fuck you this good huh? Look at you. A fucken mess on my cock.”
“N-no! He doesn’t.” You whine, another wave of tears begin to fall from your eyes. The overstimulation of Hongjoong pumping into you along with his degrading words overwhelms you. You don’t want to admit it, but you fucken love this. Your body is enjoying every fucken moment of this dirty, lewd affair.
“F-Fuucckk” Hongjoong moans loudly. “Look at me while you cry, baby. Let me see that pretty face” you listen to him without hesitation. Your eyes locking with his. You feel yourself closer to reaching your high. Until you’re both interrupted with a sudden ringing.
You both turn your heads to the chair you sat on when you first entered Hongjoong’s office. The sight of your bright phone screen illuminates the dim room.
*Siwoo <3 is Calling*
Your heart drops at the name. Anxiety suddenly filling your body, replacing the pleasure you felt before. Hongjoong notices and smirks at you. He reaches over and grabs your phone.
“Answer it.” He demands. You shake your head no.
“I said fucken answer it. Your boyfriend is waiting for you. Don’t be a fucken brat now. Do you want me to stop?” Hongjoong’s words are harsh. You instantly shake your head in protest of him stopping.
“Then fucken answer it” Hongjoong shoves the phone towards you.
You hesitate as you grab the phone from his hands and click the green button. You bring the phone to your ear, but Hongjoong pulls your wrist, and clicks on the speaker button. He cocks his head at you, signaling you to continue,
“H-Hello? Siwoo?” You begin. Hongjoong resumes his pace. Fucking you in and out.
“Hey Honey. What are you doing?” Siwoo’s voice is calm, in contrast to what you’re feeling right now.
“A-Ah.. I’m j-just finishing up some w-work” You stutter as you try to keep your composure. Hongjoong makes it harder for you as he begins to lick your neck.
“You’re still at work?” Siwoo questions.
“M—mm, Yeah. Don’t worry. I—I’ll be home soon” You bite your lip trying to contain a moan.
“You okay Y/N? why do you keep stuttering?” Siwoo’s voices a concern.
“I—i’m okay. I-I just don’t feel too well. I think it’s a stomach tic” You bluff, trying to find an excuse.
“You don’t feel well? Shall I come pick you up from work-?” Siwoo suggests
“No!” You cut him off. You curse to yourself. Hongjoong smiles against a your neck and softly bites it as he continues fucking you senseless.
“Oh- okay then. Just be careful. take some medicine” You roll your eyes. (why the fuck does Siwoo decide to be sweet right now out of all days?) You mentally say to yourself.
“Y-yes I will…” You reply softly.
“Anyways, did you see my text? can you wire me some money?” Siwoo asks nonchalantly. You scoff, earning a vocalized chuckle from Hongjoong. Your eyes widen as you pull him closer to your neck, trying to muffle his laughter. You bite your lip, in hopes Siwoo didn’t hear anything.
“S—sorry, Siwoo. I don’t get paid till this Friday.” you manage to get out.
“Aww please? just a few bucks” Siwoo whines. In annoyance, you roll your eyes once again.
“Siwoo, I—I can’t. I have to go” You quickly hang up the call and throw your phone down. Hongjoong detaches from your neck and chuckles before attacking your lips. His pace begins to pick up. He holds onto your waist for support and you hold him closer. Hongjoong pulls away from your lips and rests his forehead against yours.
“Does he take care of you? or do you take care of him?” He teases as he tries to hold back a laugh.
“S—Shut up” You moan in response. Hongjoong thrusts hard into you, earning a loud yelp from you.
“Someone’s suddenly mouthy?” Hongjoong’s hand grips onto your chin as he lightly taps your cheek.
“F—Fuck” You moan as he shoves himself inside you, with long and deep strokes.
Hongjoong then suddenly pulls out of you. Not wanting to waste any time, he lifts you off the desk and flips you over. Your front is pushed onto the cold wood, and he pulls your hips higher. Your forearms hoist yourself for support as you feel Hongjoong enter you once again. His hands grip under your skirt pushing them up towards your waist, giving him a perfect view of your ass. He mentally curses to himself as he watches your butt bounce on his cock at a constant pace. He brings his hand down to caress it before raising it and bringing it back down in a hard, but pleasurable slap. You yelp in response, eyes widen at the sudden contact.
“Such a fucken naughty girl. Fucking your boss, when you have a boyfriend” Hongjoong degrades you as his hand makes contact with your ass again. You whimper at the stinging sensation. Your tears fall onto the papers infront of you.
“Who fucks you better baby?” Hongjoong pants as his speed increases. “Me or Siwoo? Hm?” He asks again taking you in deeper.
“A—Ahhhh~ You, Hongjoong.” You sniffle your tears , “Hongjoong fucks me better!” You scream as his pace becomes sloppy. Hongjoong hears your crying whimpers and quickly turns you around to face him. Your body now lays flat on his desk as he pumps into you.
“Yeah? bet I can be better lover than him too” Hongjoong confesses as he smashes his lips onto yours. Your heart clenches at his statement. A sudden wave of orgasm hits you. Your pussy tightens around him as you come undone. Your arms wrapped around his neck as you release a loud moan. Your face buried in his chest, as he continues to fuck you and chase his high. Hongjoong’s thrust become sloppy, and quickly pulls out of you.
“Let me cum on your pretty face” He hastily demands. You quickly move towards his lower body and he pumps himself quickly on you. Hongjoong looks at your sparkly doe eyes, and bites his lips. His warm thick load releases into your face, along with a loud grunt from his mouth. You gasp as the feeling of the strings of cum landing on your soft skin. Your mouth instinctively opens,
“F—Fuckkk baby” Hongjoong hisses as he continues to pump more of his load onto your tongue.
The office room is filled with the sounds of you and Hongjoong panting, trying to catch your breath. The room reeks of sex. Your eyes are still locked on his. His white cum painted on your face and mouth. Without any other choice, you close your mouth and swallow his bittersweet cum.
“Fuck” Hongjoong whispers under his breath. He caresses your hair and reaches over his desk to grab a few tissue papers. Hongjoong wipes your face gently and kisses your forehead.
"Let me clean you up down there,"
Hongjoong whispered, his voice a soft, intimate murmur that seemed to linger in
the air between you. The earlier intensity of steamy sex had left a palpable tension, but now, a gentle calm enveloped the room. His eyes, once aflame with desire, were now filled with a warmth that reassured you, reminding you of the caring side he often showed.
After the whirlwind of passion, Hongjoong's demeanor had transformed completely. The fire that had ignited between you both settled into a tender glow as he moved closer, his presence both comforting and protective. With a steady hand, he reached for another tissue, his fingers brushing your skin lightly as he began to clean you up. The touch was careful and deliberate, as if he were trying to convey his affection through each gentle motion.
You felt a mix of vulnerability and warmth wash over you, grateful for the way he approached this moment. It was as though he understood the importance of transitioning from the intensity of physical connection to something more nurturing and intimate. You appreciated how he took his time, ensuring that you felt cared for, both emotionally and physically. As you two began to help each other back into your clothing, you couldn’t ignore the lingering feelings.
“I’ll take you home” Hongjoong smiles gently at you and brushes a strand of your hair out of your face. You nod and follow behind him out of his office. As he approached your desk, Hongjoong gathered your bags. You instinctively reached out to grab them, but he gently shook his head, a soft smile playing on his lips.
“Let me handle this,” he said, his voice warm and reassuring. With that, he took the lead, guiding you toward his car.
As you followed behind, your legs felt wobbly, you could sense him glancing back occasionally, ensuring you were still keeping up.
At the car, he paused, opening the passenger door, gesturing for you to get in. You slid into the seat. He placed your bags in the back with care, then turned to you, his demeanor softening as he reached for his spare coat. With a fluid motion, he draped it over your shoulders, its warmth enveloping you like a comforting hug.
“Hongjoong—” you started, the silence stretching between you, but he raised a hand to quiet you.
“Shh, it’s okay, Y/N. You don’t have to say anything. Just rest,” he said gently. He leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead.
The drive home was silent. The hum of the engine a lullaby in the stillness of the night. You fought to keep your eyes open, fatigue clawing at you, but each passing moment, tried to invite you to surrender to the drowsiness. Suddenly, the car came to a stop, signaling at you from your drowsy haze. You turned to look at Hongjoong, who was already gazing at you.
“Y/N…” Hongjoong’s voice was barely above a whisper, yet it carried an undeniable weight. “I meant what I said when I told you I can be a better lover than Siwoo.” The sincerity in his tone sent a shiver down your spine. “He doesn’t treat you well. You deserve someone who truly values you.” His eyes held a raw intensity as he continued, “I don’t think I can go on without you knowing that I’ve always wanted you for myself.”
His sudden confession took you by surprise, leaving you momentarily speechless. The air around you felt charged, and you could hardly process the emotions swirling within you.
“Let me prove to you that I will love you better. Please, Y/N,” he urged, his gaze earnest and imploring. The vulnerability he displayed was a stark contrast to what he portrayed in the office just moments ago. This was a side of him that revealed his deep feelings, and it struck a chord within you.
Your heart raced as you absorbed his words, the truth of them resonating deep inside. You had long felt the magnetic pull toward him, the warmth in his presence that made you feel seen in a way Siwoo never had. You realized in that moment that you, too, wanted to love him—fully and unreservedly.
Compelled by a rush of emotion, you leaned in closer, the space between you evaporating. Your lips met his in a tender kiss, a hesitant exploration that quickly deepened as he responded. His hands found their way to your face, cradling it gently as he pulled you in, his touch igniting a warmth that spread through your entire being.
“Fuck- if you kiss me like that I might take you right here again” Hongjoong chuckles against your lips. And you giggle in response. However, his expression falls down.
“Y/N… I should tell you that Siwoo has been cheating on you.” Hongjoong sighs as he rests his forehead against yours.
“Who’s Siwoo?” You joke trying to mask your disappointment of him mentioning your now ex. “Y/N, I know I initiated an affair while you are dating him too but, you needed to know.” Hongjoong states in a serious tone.
“I know, Hongjoong.” You say softly. “I figured after our conversation we had on Friday, when he came over to my house the next day. I guess my naive self chose to ignore it… I messaged him earlier when we got to the car that I’m over with him. I’m no longer his.” You look at Hongjoong as he studies your face.
“So… does this mean you’re mine?” Hongjoong raises an eyebrow. You softly smile and shrug your shoulders. Hongjoong smirks at you and in an instant unbuckles his seat belt and exits the car. He makes his way to the passenger door and opens it. Swiftly, he lifts your body and throws you over his shoulder. You yelp in response and he carries you towards his house.
“You drove us to your house?!” You exclaim as you giggle over his shoulder.
“Let me remind you again who you really belong to” Hongjoong chuckles as he playfully slaps your ass and quickly makes his way through the doors of his home.
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Pt. 2 (updated 10/21)
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Author’s commentary: Should I do a sequel? 👀. I had way more ideas for this story but decided to cut it short LOLLL. Anyways, I hope yall enjoy😝 feel free to fangirl in my comment section/ ask box🤭.
Notes: Cheating (don’t do it yall. this is just fiction), Unprotected sex (wrap it up!!! do not try this irl, it is pure fantasy!), explicit language, dacryphilia kink, humiliation, degrading, power fixation, Hongjoong lowkey manipulates (but for the better ig lol)
Word Count: 13k (condensed some ideas to bring down the word count LOL)
Authors note: This is pure horny imagination and in NO WAY, reflects on the characters in real life! If you do not like this type of content pls ignore or block me.
Pt. 2 | Pt. 3
———————————————————————
As you stepped into your apartment, the night sky cast a deep blue glow through the windows, shimmering like a vast ocean. The warm glow of the sensor lights flickered on, illuminating the entryway and casting soft shadows on the walls. You paused for a moment, a frustrated sigh escaping your lips, echoing in the stillness of the room.
It was the fifth time this month that your boyfriend had canceled on you, and each time felt like another nail in the coffin of what once seemed like a blossoming romance. The disappointment settled heavily in your chest, making each step toward the kitchen feel more burdensome than the last.
With a determined resolve, you made your way to the fridge, the familiar chill greeting you as you opened the door. Your fingers closed around a half-filled bottle of wine, the label slightly crumpled from the many times it had been hastily put back. You pulled it out, and reached for a glass. You stare blankly as you poured the wine, watching as the dark liquid rose to the rim, glistening in the soft light. Without hesitation, you brought it to your lips, taking a few deep gulps, each swallow both comforting and numbing. As the warmth spread through you, tears began to prick at the corners of your eyes, a familiar sensation that you had tried so hard to push away.
The memories of the past 2 years flooded back—Siwoo’s laughter, the shared moments that now felt like distant echoes. But lately, he had become a stranger, his warmth replaced by an impenetrable distance. You had tried to reach out, to bridge the growing gap, but each time ended in disappointment. Now, standing in your quiet apartment, you felt a profound sense of loss that had settled deep within you, leaving you feeling numb, as if you were merely going through the motions of life without truly living it.
You quickly wiped your tears away, the salty tracks on your cheeks feeling foreign yet familiar. With each brush of your fingers, the sadness that had threatened to overwhelm you twisted into something sharper—anger.
*Ding.*
The sudden sound pulled your attention away from your thoughts. You turned your head toward your phone, its screen lighting up with a notification. The sight of Siwoo's name, accompanied by a little heart, made your heart sink further.
Siwoo <3: I’m sorry I cancelled again. Please don’t hate me. I’ll see you on your lunch tomorrow.
You stared at the message, the words blurring momentarily as your vision wavered. Another empty promise. With a shaky hand, you raised your glass to your lips, the bitter taste of the wine filling your mouth as you took another long gulp. It was a poor substitute for the warmth you once felt from Siwoo's presence.
You couldn't bring yourself to respond—not now. You needed a few moments to gather your swirling emotions, to avoid lashing out with the hurt and anger that simmered just beneath the surface. The silence of the apartment enveloped you, amplifying your racing thoughts and making the weight of his message all the more suffocating.
Once you finished the rest of the wine bottle, you felt the tension in your shoulders ease just a fraction. You turned away from your phone, not wanting to see another message or another reminder of the chasm that seemed to grow between you. With heavy steps, you made your way to the bedroom.
You plopped down onto the bed, the soft sheets cradling you in their embrace. As your body sank into the mattress, fatigue overtook you, pulling you into a deep slumber. In the quiet darkness, you hoped for dreams that could somehow soothe the ache in your heart, if only for a little while.
———
The next day dawned with a muted light filtering through the curtains, the world outside still waking up. You rolled over, disoriented for a moment, before the reality of the day ahead crashed over you. With a groan, you pushed yourself up, the remnants of last night’s indulgence weighing heavily in your mind.
As you shuffled to the bathroom, the headache from downing that last glass of wine throbbed at your temples, a persistent reminder of your restless night. You cursed under your breath, regretting the decision to finish the bottle in a moment of vulnerability.
You quickly went through the motions of your morning routine. Your job as the secretary for one of the most well-known CEOs in the Creative Arts Institution required precision and poise, a stark contrast to the emotional turmoil that had kept you up late. You dressed in a tailored blouse and a pencil skirt, the fabric smoothing against your skin as you adjusted the collar. The mirror reflected a professional exterior, yet you felt anything but composed inside.
After applying a touch of makeup to mask the fatigue in your eyes, you gathered your things—laptop, planner, and the ever-essential cup of coffee that awaited you in the kitchen.
———
As you step into the tall building, the morning sun filters through the glass façade, casting geometric shadows across the polished marble lobby. The familiar bustle of your colleagues greets you, their voices merging with the gentle hum of fluorescent lights. You nod and smile as you greet in response. You make your way to the elevator, its silver doors glinting in the light. Pressing the button for the top floor, you mentally prepare for the day ahead, trying not to show your exhausted emotions, mentally and physically. When the doors slide open, you step into the expansive hallway lined with art. At the end of the corridor, you enter the grand office door. You walk to the enormous desk adorned with a gold plaque that reads “CEO Kim Hongjoong” and set down the iced Americano you picked up on your way in. You reach into your tote bag and retrieve a neatly organized file folder. Flipping it open, you scan through today’s itinerary, noting the key meetings and tasks that lie ahead. Once satisfied with your briefing, you close the folder and return it to your bag. You head to the front desk positioned just outside the CEO's office, and begin your morning tasks. Every day in the office has settled into a rhythm, a familiar routine that feels almost automatic.
“Good morning, Mr. Kim!” “Hello, Mr. Kim!” The greetings echo as your colleagues bow slightly, their respect palpable.
You rise from your chair, straightening your blouse, and offer a nonchalant nod, masking the exhaustion lingering just beneath the surface.
“Good morning, Mr. Kim,” you say as you bow, forcing a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes. Hongjoong approaches, his expression warm yet focused.
“Hello, Y/N. Have you prepared everything for today’s schedule?” he asks, moving past you toward his office.
“Yes, you have a meeting in an hour with a client…” you begin to relay the itinerary, following him inside. He settles into his chair, taking a sip of the Americano and nods in response.
“Also, I dealt with the complaints from the last exhibition. Everything’s been taken care of, just like you wanted,” you add, your tone casual, though the weight of your own issues tugs at your thoughts. Hongjoong looks up, a smile breaking across his face.
“That’s why I have you as my secretary, Miss Y/N. Thank you so much.”
You nod, the compliment momentarily brightening your mood, but it’s fleeting. You bow again before slipping out of the office. As the door closes behind you, you take a deep breath, pushing the worries from your relationship to the back of your mind, ready to tackle the day ahead with practiced indifference.
Throughout the morning, you flit in and out of meetings, accompanying Hongjoong as he navigates a flurry of tasks. The office is a hive of activity, and you move seamlessly between conversations, taking notes and organizing files, but the weight of your personal life hangs heavy in the back of your mind.
You glance at the clock on your desk: just thirty minutes until your hour break. A sigh escapes your lips, and you reach for your phone, hesitating. Siwoo’s message sits unread, a lingering question mark in your thoughts. You know you should respond, but the uncertainty of his invitation makes you hesitate. Is it pettiness that keeps you from reaching out, or a defense mechanism to shield your heart from further pain? You shake off the intrusive thoughts, forcing yourself to focus on the tasks at hand.
*Ding.* Your phone buzzes, drawing your attention. It’s another message from Siwoo.
Siwoo <3: I won’t be able to make it today. Something came up at work. Sorry.
You scoff under your breath, a bitter taste filling your mouth. His absence stings, but you’ve braced yourself for this—after all, it’s become a pattern.
Just then, Hongjoong’s voice crackles through the telephone intercom on your desk, interrupting your spiraling thoughts. “Miss Y/N, please come to my office.”
“Yes, sir,” you reply, rising from your seat with a practiced smile as you make your way into his office.
“What can I do for you, Mr. Kim?” you ask, your tone polite, carefully masking the frustration beneath the surface from Siwoo’s message.
Hongjoong leans back in his chair, his expression serious.
“I know you have your hour break in twenty minutes, but I just got off the phone with a potential client. They want to meet over lunch in a few minutes, and I need you to tag along to take notes. If you can wait on your break for another hour, I’ll cover your meal if you accompany me now.”
His words feel more like an instruction than a request, and you nod in response, pushing your personal frustrations aside.
“Of course, sir. Shall I call the chauffeur now?”
“No need,” he replies, grabbing his briefcase. “We’ll take my vehicle. I’ll drive.”
You nod and follow Hongjoong out of the building.
You settled into the passenger seat next to Hongjoong, the sleek interior of the car enveloping you. The rhythmic clicking of the turn signal punctuated the silence, while the soft murmur of the news on the radio served as a gentle backdrop.
“Miss Y/N, is everything alright?” Hongjoong's voice cut through the quiet, steady and attentive. You turned to him, slightly taken aback by his directness.
“Y-Yes, sir. What makes you concerned?” you replied, a hint of surprise coloring your voice. His eyes remained fixed on the road, focused yet perceptive.
“My top employee—my secretary—has been unusually quiet lately. You seem a bit off,” he remarked, expertly navigating the car into a parking lot. His concern was genuine, and you felt a flutter of warmth at his attention.
“I apologize if I gave that impression today, sir. I assure you, I’m alright,” you replied, straightening in your seat, trying to project confidence. Hongjoong parked the car and turned to face you, his expression serious.
“Y/N, I’m not just talking about today. You’ve been like this for a few days now. I don’t want to pry, but if something is bothering you, please let me know. You never slack off—well, not that I’ve noticed—but you’re a vital part of our team. If you’re not at your best, it affects us all, especially me. Let’s tackle any issues together, professionally.” His words carried a weight of understanding that took you by surprise.
You hesitated, unsure of how much to reveal.
“I… I apologize, sir. It’s just some personal issues in my relationship. I promise I won’t let it interfere with my work,” you said softly, your gaze dropping to your hands in your lap. You feared that honesty might blur the lines of your professional relationship.
Hongjoong regarded you with a thoughtful expression, his brow slightly furrowing. “Problems in your relationship?” he asked gently. You nodded, keeping your head bowed.
“Yes. I appreciate you asking,” you replied, feeling a rush of gratitude mixed with apprehension.
“Thank you for sharing that with me,” he said, his tone shifting back to his usual professional demeanor. “Let’s get to work.”
The next hour unfolded at a high-end restaurant, its luxurious ambiance creating the perfect setting for a business meeting. You sat next to Hongjoong, across from two potential clients, the atmosphere charged with opportunity. As they discussed plans for an upcoming exhibition, you diligently took notes, your mind sharpening as you transitioned into your role.
Hongjoong exuded charisma, ordering champagne and an array of exquisite appetizers while skillfully guiding the conversation. You admired the way he balanced authority with approachability, creating an atmosphere of collaboration.
———
As promised, Hongjoong granted you your hour break once you both returned to the office. The day had been packed with meetings and conversations, but you had already eaten at the restaurant, so instead of lingering in the bustling atmosphere of the office, you decided to find solace on the rooftop.
Ascending to the rooftop, you pushed open the heavy door, the cool air hitting your face like a refreshing wave. You walked over to one of the bistro tables, the metal surface gleaming under the midday sun. You sank into one of the chairs, letting out a deep sigh that released the pent-up stress from the morning. In your left hand, you cradled an iced Americano to keep you alert. In your right, you held your phone, its screen illuminating your face as you contemplated the text messages from Siwoo.
He should be off work by now, you thought, scrolling through the thread of messages. You hesitated, biting your lip, unsure of how to approach him. The uncertainty had lingered in your mind for days, and it felt like a weight on your chest. After a moment’s deliberation, you resolved to take initiative and give him a call.
You tapped his name, and set the phone on speaker. As the phone rang, the sound echoed in the serene space around you. It rang for what felt like an eternity until finally, you heard his voice on the other end, slightly breathless.
“H-hello? Y/N?” Siwoo stuttered, his tone hesitant.
“Siwoo, what are you doing?” you asked, trying to sound calm, though your heart raced with anticipation.
“Mmm, n-nothing much, just working out. I-I went to the gym after work,” he replied, punctuating his words with a grunt that surprised you. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. Since when did he ever work out?
You decided to push forward, hoping to reconnect. “Do you want to come over tonight? I’ll make dinner,” you offered, softening your voice as if trying to coax him back into your world.
“A-ahh, probably not tonight. I have to finish some work at h-home,” he stuttered again, his voice strained, as though he were struggling for breath.
Disappointment settled in your stomach, but you pressed on. “I can come over then, yeah? I’ll make you your favorite dish?” You mentally kicked yourself for even suggesting it, a flicker of doubt reminding you of all the times he had flaked out before.
“N-no, Y/N. I-It’s okay. A-ahh!” Siwoo grunted loudly, and a chill ran through you at the sound.
“Siwoo, what’s going on?!” You raised your voice slightly, urgency creeping in.
“I told you, Y/N. I’m working out. We can’t see each other tonight; I’m busy. I have to go,” he snapped, the finality in his tone cutting through the air like a knife. The line went dead, leaving you with only the echo of his voice. Your heart sank, a familiar ache running within you.
You stared at the phone in disbelief, the cool metal suddenly feeling heavy in your hand. How could he do this again? A mix of frustration and sadness swirled in your chest, and you felt a lump form in your throat. You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself, but it did little to quell the rising tide of emotions.
——
You glance at the small digits on your screen, the glowing numbers reading 8:00 PM. Your shift officially ended thirty minutes ago, but here you sat, a blend of dedication and denial keeping you tethered to your desk. Guilt washed over you, a stark reminder of Hongjoong’s earlier words. There was no point in heading home, not when the weight of unfinished tasks bore down on you. The quiet of your apartment would only invite sorrow, while the office, though nearly deserted, offered a comforting distraction.
The atmosphere had shifted; the energy of the day had given way to silence as colleagues trickled out, exchanging soft goodbyes. Each farewell came with a gentle reminder not to work too hard, and you managed a smile, masking the turmoil brewing inside you. Once they departed, you returned your focus to the glowing screen, rifling through files and diligently noting necessary information, your fingers a blur over the keyboard.
A flicker of light caught your eye—a warm streaming light from Hongjoong’s office. You raised an eyebrow in curiosity; you’d assumed he had left an hour ago. Shaking off the thoughts that threatened to wander, you turned back to your work.
“Y/N?” Hongjoong’s voice broke through your concentration. You looked up at him through your rectangular glasses that rested on your face. He cut an impressive figure, dressed in a fitted black dress shirt and a black vest that accentuated his shoulders.(What the fuck Y/N; he’s your boss.) You mentally scolded yourself, attempting to dismiss any inappropriate thoughts.
“O-Oh, yes sir?” you replied, setting your pen down on the desk.
“Your shift ended an hour ago. Why are you still here?” His brow arched in genuine curiosity, his tone both commanding and concerned.
“I’m just catching up on some work, sir. I apologize. I’ll be heading home soon,” you replied, striving for composure even as nerves danced in your stomach.
“Y/N, come to my office,” he said, his calm demeanor masking the authority in his request. You hesitated, uncertainty creeping in. Why did he want to speak in private, especially when the office was nearly empty?
Despite your reservations, you take off your glasses frames, place them on your desk and follow him into his office. The door clicking shut behind you, a sound that felt like a declaration. The dim light cast long shadows, enveloping the room. He sits at the edge of his desk with his arms crossed.
“What’s going on in your relationship?” Hongjoong asked, his tone direct yet oddly informal. The question hung in the air, leaving you momentarily stunned. Your eyes widened, and you felt a flush creeping up your neck.
“Sir, I don’t think it’s appropriate to talk about personal matters at work…” you managed to reply, your fingers fidgeting nervously as you avoided his gaze.
“It’s after work hours, Y/N. You can speak comfortably,” he said, his voice calm and soothing, yet imbued with a sharpness that conveyed he was not one to be easily dismissed. “I can tell something is wrong.”
You hesitated, the weight of his gaze making it difficult to formulate a response. A swirl of emotions crashed over you—fear of crossing professional boundaries mixed with the realization that perhaps he genuinely wanted to connect with you on a deeper level. Colleagues had often joked about how you and Hongjoong were like a married couple at work, a notion you had always brushed aside. The title felt cliché, almost childish, and you had preferred to maintain a strictly professional atmosphere.
But as you looked at him, a flicker of understanding passed between you. Maybe he wasn’t just playing the role of the CEO tonight. Perhaps he truly wanted to understand what you were going through. You took a deep breath, your heart racing as you considered opening up.
“We have… just been distant lately,” you say hesitantly, the words slipping out with reluctance. “Our schedules don’t seem to be aligning, and our communication is off. That is all, sir.” You glance at him, searching for a response.
He hums thoughtfully, nodding in acknowledgment. “Shall I… cut your hours? Maybe find a second secretary to fill in while you get to spend more time with your significant other?” His voice carried a teasing lilt, yet there was an undercurrent of seriousness that sent a rush of heat to your cheeks.
“N-no, sir!” The words escaped your lips almost too hastily, an instinctive reaction that made you feel slightly embarrassed. Hongjoong chuckled, his head lowering momentarily before he lifted it again, locking eyes with you.
“So, is it his schedule that’s not cooperating with yours?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. You nodded in silence, the weight of your emotions pressing down as you considered the truth behind your answer.
“Mm… interesting.” Hongjoong tapped his chin thoughtfully, the wheels of his mind clearly turning. Curiosity prickled at you; what was going through his head? You couldn’t help but wonder about the direction this conversation was taking.
“Y/N, if you don’t mind me asking, what does your partner do for a living?” he asked, his tone calm and inviting.
“He’s a professor at the university located downtown,” you replied softly, your voice barely above a whisper, as if sharing a secret.
“A professor?” Hongjoong mused, a hint of skepticism coloring his tone. “I doubt their schedules are that busy compared to yours—a full-time secretary for a well-known company.” He dropped his hands into his pockets, his gaze intent and probing.
“Are you sure you should be concerned about his schedule? Maybe… it’s something more?” Hongjoong added nonchalantly, his casual demeanor contrasting sharply with the seriousness of his implication.
You felt a wave of confusion wash over you. What was he suggesting? Your mind raced, trying to decipher his words. Was he implying that the distance in your relationship could be rooted in something deeper than just busy schedules? The thought unsettled you, but a part of you was intrigued by his concern. You hesitated, caught in a web of uncertainty as you considered how to respond.
“I—I’m not sure what you mean, sir…” you murmured, your gaze dropping to your black heels, the polished tips reflecting the dim light of the office.
“Come here, Y/N,” Hongjoong said, his voice a blend of softness and authority that sent a shiver down your spine. Almost instinctively, you found your feet moving toward him, the rhythmic click of your pumps echoing softly against the floor as you approached. You stopped just in front of his black loafers, your heart racing in your chest.
“Closer,” he instructed, his voice lowering, deepening with an intensity that made you catch your breath. You stepped forward, positioning yourself between his slightly parted legs, the air thick with unspoken tension.
His hand reached out, a gentle yet firm grasp settling on your waist. You gasped in shock, the unexpected warmth of his touch flooding through you. This is wrong, you thought, panic stirring within, but something deeper held you in place, a pull that made it difficult to consider pulling away. Instead, you stood there, caught in a moment that felt both exhilarating and terrifying.
“Maybe…” Hongjoong began, his thumb rubbing softly against the fabric of your blouse, the gentle motion both soothing and unsettling.
“your partner is being unfaithful…?” The words hung heavy in the air, a sentence that felt like a blade slicing through your gut.
A part of you recoiled at the thought, refusing to believe it. Yet, as you stood there, something nagged at you, a whisper of doubt that you couldn’t shake. The realization that he might be right crept in like a shadow, darkening your thoughts. Stupidly, your heart leaped to defend Siwoo, the man you cared for, even as uncertainty gnawed at you.
“Mr. Kim, I don’t appreciate you assuming that,” you replied quietly, your voice barely above a whisper as you stared between the gap of Hongjoong’s legs that revealed the floor, refusing to meet his gaze.
“You don’t know our relationship, so please do not accuse him of such acts…” you added, your tone a fragile mixture of firmness and vulnerability. As the words left your lips, you felt your eyes begin to well with tears, confusion and anger swirling within you. You trusted Siwoo; you had to. But the doubts Hongjoong had planted took root, and you didn’t understand why he was suddenly acting like this.
You wanted to leave, to escape the charged atmosphere and the unsettling intimacy of the moment, but your feet remained stuck to the floor. Deep down, beneath the rising tide of panic, you recognized that you craved the odd comfort Hongjoong provided, a warmth that felt so different from the turmoil in your heart.
Suddenly, a whimper escaped your lips, a sound that surprised you as tears began to cascade down your cheeks, dropping onto Hongjoong’s lap.
“Oh, baby…” Hongjoong cooed, his voice laced with a tenderness. You gasped at the sudden pet name. With a gentle yet deliberate movement, his unoccupied hand reached toward your face, lifting your chin slightly so that he could wipe away the tears that streamed relentlessly down. Your eyes however, still refusing to look at him. The warmth of his touch sent a shiver through you, and your heart raced at the intimacy of the moment.
“You defend him, yet you’re crying,” he observed, his voice low and soothing, but his words only added to the turmoil within you. It was as if he could see right through the facade you had tried to maintain. As his hand, previously resting on your waist, moved to the other side of your face, you felt the weight of his palms cupping your cheeks, an act of reassurance that both calmed and stirred your emotions.
“Look at me, Y/N” Hongjoong softly demands. Your pretty eyes look at him. Sparkling from the tears that are still streaming down your face slowly. Hongjoong bit his lip, fighting to maintain his composure, though he couldn’t help but think how fucken pretty you look when you cried… how vulnerable.
“I’m sorry for assuming,” he continued, his tone tender yet firm. “It was unprofessional of me. I was just trying to express my concerns.” His fingers brushed against your skin as he gently cupped your face, his thumbs softly stroking away the remnants of your tears. “I don’t want to see you cry anymore, okay?”
Confusion swirled within you, a mix of gratitude and uncertainty. What was Hongjoong doing? His touch sent conflicting signals through your mind, making it hard to decipher the intentions behind his kindness. You felt your heart race as he held your gaze, searching for answers that remained elusive.
“Let me take you home. It’s getting late.” He reluctantly withdrew his hands, the warmth of his touch lingering on your skin. Hongjoong lightly tapped your waist,
“Okay?” he asked again, his voice softening as he sought your approval. You nodded, your heart fluttering as you looked into his eyes, those doe-like orbs filled with an innocence that belied the complexities of your situation. The air between you was thick with unspoken words, each moment stretching out as you found solace in his presence, even amidst the confusion.
———
The car glided smoothly along the quiet streets, the only sounds breaking the stillness were the gentle notes floating from the radio and the rhythmic tapping of Hongjoong’s fingers on the steering wheel. Each beat resonated with the unspoken tension lingering between you, a subtle backdrop to the whirlwind of thoughts spinning in your mind.
As the car pulled up in front of your apartment building, you felt a mix of relief and reluctance. The evening air was cool against your skin as you unbuckled your seatbelt and gathered your bags, the weight of the day still heavy on your shoulders.
“Thank you for the ride, Mr. Kim,” you said, bowing your head slightly, unable to meet his gaze. It was a gesture of politeness, but it felt more like a shield, protecting you from the warmth of his soft smile that you could sense even without looking.
“No worries, Miss Y/N. I’ll see you Monday,” he replied, his voice soft but filled with an unshakeable confidence. You heard the warmth in his tone, even as you turned away and walked towards the entrance of your apartment building, his farewell echoing in your ears.
The elevator ride felt interminable as you ascended to your floor, each ding of the buttons amplifying the heaviness in your chest. Finally, you stepped into your small apartment, the familiar space offering little comfort. You dragged your feet toward your room, exhaustion pulling you down, both physically and emotionally.
Once inside, you kicked off your heels, the sharp clack against the floor a welcome relief. You stripped off your clothes with a mindless haste, leaving only your undergarments as you collapsed onto your bed. The cool sheets enveloped you, but they couldn’t ease the confusion swirling in your thoughts.
With a deep, resigned sigh, you sank into the mattress, your mind replaying fragments of your conversation with Hongjoong.
In a moment of desperation, you reached for your phone, dialing Siwoo’s number. The ringing felt like an eternity, and when it went to voicemail, a knot tightened in your stomach. You glanced at the clock—10 PM. Another attempt led to the same unyielding voicemail. Frustration filled within you, mixing with a pang of anxiety that settled in your chest.
You closed your eyes, trying to steady your breathing. The coolness of the room contrasted sharply with the heat of your thoughts. Slowly, memories of Hongjoong flooded your mind—his perfect figure leaning casually against the desk, his strong hand lingering on your arm, the gentle caress of his fingers against your face.
Your heart ached, not for Siwoo, but for Hongjoong. You suddenly craved his comforting and reassuring voice. His lingering touch on your skin. Your legs close together as you feel a wave of warmth between your thighs. Your hands moved down your soft skin, reaching towards your heat…
You gasp softly, shaking your head, trying to dismiss these feelings. This wasn’t supposed to be happening. You shouldn’t be thinking about him like this. Hongjoong is your Boss. And plus you have Siwoo. Your… loving boyfriend.
The weight of silence wraps around you like a thick fog, pressing down on your chest as you lie in bed, staring at the ceiling. You can’t shake the feeling that these spiraling thoughts. In frustration you convince yourself that you’re probably just deprived of touch from your significant other.
With sudden resolve, you push yourself up from the tangled sheets, the cool air sending a shiver down your spine, and head towards the bathroom. Turning on the water, you let your thoughts drown in the hot water. Making your way back to your room, you slowly dry off and change into pajamas.
As your head hits the pillow, a sense of calm envelops you, pulling you into a deep slumber. The world outside fades, and for the first time in ages, you allow yourself to drift away, hoping that tomorrow will bring a spark of connection back into your life.
———
The first rays of sunlight filtered through the blinds, casting soft stripes across your home office. You’re working from home today, since Hongjoong isn’t in office on the weekends. You sat your desk with a steaming cup of coffee cradled in your hands, you let the aroma fill your senses, the rich, dark liquid fueling your focus as your fingers typing across the keyboard.
The rhythmic sound of your typing created a serene atmosphere until it was interrupted by a sharp buzz from the apartment door.
Setting your coffee down, you pushed back your chair and stood, feeling a strange mix of anticipation and dread as you approached the door. Taking a deep breath, you swung it open, and your heart dropped. Standing there, looking both sheepish and regretful, was Siwoo, clutching a bouquet of flowers.
“Y/N, honey, I’m so sorry for flaking out on you so many times,” he said with a fake pout.
A year ago, you would have melted at this display. You might have accepted his half-assed apology with a smile, the flowers a token of his remorse. But today, your mind raced with reminders of all the times he had done this before. The constant stand-ups, the empty promises, the fleeting moments of connection overshadowed by disappointment.
Your heart ached, not with the sweet pang of love but with the heavy weight of frustration. You stood there, staring at him, emotions swirling within you like a storm. Hurt and upset battled against the tenderness that still lingered for him. You could feel the walls you had carefully built in the past months tightening around you, whispering that this was a cycle you were tired of repeating.
But your heart, foolishly hopeful, betrayed you. Before you could think it through, you found yourself reaching for the bouquet, inhaling the sweet scent of fresh blooms. Then, without a second thought, you pulled him into a tight embrace. As his arms wrapped around you, the familiar warmth flooded back, and you felt your resolve waver.
In that moment, you wanted to believe that this time would be different. Yet beneath the surface, a deeper ache throbbed—a desperate question lingered in your mind: why do you keep doing this to me?
As the hours unfolded, Siwoo settled into a chair across from your desk, his laptop open and papers scattered around him. The familiar hum of shared work surrounded you, a scene that once brought you joy. He would glance up occasionally, flashing you a smile that was meant to soothe the tension in the air. Yet, despite the comforting proximity, your heart was locked in a battle against the memories of hurt he had inflicted upon you.
You tried to push those thoughts aside, forcing yourself to focus on the tasks at hand. Still, they lingered like unwelcome shadows, flitting in and out of your consciousness. Each time Siwoo laughed at something on his screen or leaned back with a satisfied sigh, a part of you wanted to bask in the moment, to let yourself feel the happiness he once brought. But the other part—a weary, wiser part—reminded you of the countless times he had let you down.
Your mind already flooded with so many issues, decided to remind you of last night’s conversation with Hongjoong—the way he spoke to you, his touch… The longing for deeper connections hung heavily on your mind, teasing you with confusion.
You caught Siwoo watching you, a flicker of concern crossing his face. “Hey, you okay?” he asked, his voice breaking through your reverie.
You forced a smile, nodding slightly. “Yeah, just thinking about work.”
———
Throughout the day, with Siwoo at your side, a disquieting realization settled in your chest: you felt less like his girlfriend and more like a maid. He moved to lounge in your living room, casually asking for snacks and drinks while you sat at your desk, trying to concentrate on your work. Each request chipped away at your patience, drawing a line between the intimate moments you once cherished and the mundane reality of this interaction.
Glancing over, you caught sight of him: relaxed, almost carefree, tapping away on his phone with a soft laugh escaping his lips. Maybe it was Hongjoong’s words playing tricks on you, but a knot twisted in your stomach as you watched Siwoo, feeling an unfamiliar ick wash over you. It felt as though he was taking advantage of your hospitality, oblivious to the growing frustration bubbling within you.
“Oh, Y/N, can I borrow some money?” Siwoo asked, his voice casual, his eyes glued to the screen as he continued to chuckle at whatever amused him.
“May I ask why?” You replied softly, a frown creasing your brow as confusion settled in.
“I need to buy new materials for work. It’s required for all professors, and I’m just short by a few bucks,” he explained, his gaze still firmly fixed on his phone.
You raised an eyebrow, skepticism creeping in. “Doesn’t the university cover materials for professors?”
“Mmm, not this time. Please?” he said, finally looking up at you, his irritating smile brightening his face as if he expected you to fold under the charm.
Taking a deep breath, you felt the tension in your chest tighten, but you nodded anyway, wiring him a sum that was likely more than he needed. Maybe it was an act of guilt or an old habit of wanting to keep the peace.
“Thanks, honey. You’re the best!” he said, standing up and slinging his bag over his shoulder. The grin on his face widened as he returned to his phone, engrossed once more in whatever had captured his attention.
“Y—you’re leaving so soon?” The words spilled out before you could stop them, a mix of desperation and disappointment. “I’m almost done with work. Let’s have dinner…”
He turned to you, his expression unchanged. “Maybe another day, Y/N. I have to head back to the campus.”
With that, he walked out without a backward glance, leaving you standing there, a swirl of emotions crashing against one another. As the door clicked shut, the weight of his absence pressed heavily on your heart, mingling with the irritation that had been building all day.
——
The weekend slipped away in a blur, its fleeting hours vanishing like sand through fingers. As you stepped into the office on Monday morning, you glanced around the workspace, filled with the scent of fresh coffee and the faint rustle of papers, and realized you wanted to be here. The thought of Hongjoong entered your mind unbidden. You couldn’t help but remember the conversations that had left you feeling confused but wanting more.
But you quickly pushed those thoughts aside, chastising yourself. This wasn’t the time for daydreams. You were his secretary, bound by professional decorum. It was crucial to maintain composure, to focus on your tasks and responsibilities. After all, any semblance of personal feelings could only complicate matters.
“Good morning, Mr. Kim,” you said, bowing slightly from your desk as he entered his office, and you follow behind him. The air felt charged with unspoken tension, a remnant of the incident that had unfolded just days prior, a moment you both seemed to ignore.
“Good morning, Miss Y/N,” Hongjoong replied, a hint of a smile playing on his lips as he settled into his chair behind the desk. His eyes flickered momentarily to the iced Americano you had picked up for him earlier, the cool condensation glistening against the glass.
“What is the schedule for today?” he asked, leaning back in his chair, his posture relaxed, but you could sense the sharpness in his gaze as it remained fixed on you.
Clearing your throat, you began to relay the day’s itinerary, focusing intently on your notes. “We have the marketing meeting at ten, followed by the conference call with the investors at noon.” You spoke steadily, but your heart raced, memories of that night creeping back into your mind—a fleeting brush of his hands, the way his gaze had pierced through the façade of professionalism.
Hongjoong listened, nodding occasionally, but there was an air of distraction about him, too. He was acting as if nothing had happened, and you were determined to do the same, though it felt like walking a tightrope. You maintained your composure, forcing yourself to keep your voice steady and professional as you continued.
His expression remained neutral, but there was an undercurrent of something unspoken between you. You stole a glance at him, noting how the light caught the edges of his features, the way he effortlessly commanded the space around him.
“And finally,” you added, pushing the memories further down, “we have a team meeting at four to discuss the new project timeline.”
As you finished, a heavy silence settled in the room, punctuated only by the soft sound of his drink being set down on the desk. You met his gaze, feeling the weight of the unacknowledged moment hanging in the air. “Thank you, Y/N,” Hongjoong said, his voice smooth as he rose from his chair. The brief moment of gratitude hung in the air between you, creating a small, intimate space in an otherwise professional atmosphere. You bowed slightly in acknowledgment, the familiar gesture a part of your daily routine, before you turned on your heels, ready to leave the room.
“Wait a moment,” he called out just as you reached the door. You paused, your heart skipping a beat, then turned back to face him.
“Yes, sir?” you replied, your voice steady but your mind racing.
“How are you doing?” he asked, the question casual yet layered with an unexpected warmth. The simplicity of it took you aback, a small flicker of surprise igniting within you.
“I—I’m well, sir. Thank you for asking.” You stumbled over your words slightly, an involuntary shyness creeping in. “How about you?” You returned the question out of politeness.
“That’s good to hear, Y/N,” he replied, his soft smile breaking through the formalities and lighting up the room. “I’m doing fine as well.”
You nodded, the warmth of his expression lingering in the air as you took in the moment. “I’ll get back to my work then,” you said, turning once more to leave.
As you stepped out of his office, the door closing softly behind you, you made your way back to your desk, the echo of his words and that fleeting smile still resonating within you.
——
Once you stepped out of Hongjoong’s office, he sank back into his chair, the weight of the world settling on his shoulders as his thoughts turned inward, swirling around you. He couldn’t deny the fondness he felt. From the moment you had started working as his secretary, you had made it clear that you were in a serious relationship. He respected your loyalty, admired it even, but it didn’t erase the growing complexity of his own feelings for you.
As he gazed out the window, memories flooded back, particularly the recent lunch meeting on Friday. You had accompanied him at the last minute, and during the drive, when you admitted to him about your relationship struggles. The admission struck him deeply—he felt a flicker of triumph at your honesty, a selfish part of him celebrating. Yet, mingled with that spark was a simmering anger; the man you were with was clearly causing you distress.
After returning to the office, you took your promised hour break, and Hongjoong found himself drawn to the rooftop. He hadn’t intended to pry; he simply wanted to offer words of encouragement, to lift your spirits. But as he approached, he overheard your phone ring and the familiar cadence of your voice pick up the call. A sinking feeling took root in his stomach when he recognized the voice on the other end—Siwoo, your boyfriend.
He paused at the steel door, unable to resist the urge to listen. Siwoo’s breathless tone was unmistakable, the hurried speech revealing more than mere exertion from a workout. Hongjoong's heart raced as he deduced the truth— Any man would know, this was not the voice of a faithful partner. The realization struck him like a punch; this man had the audacity to take your call while clearly entangled in something inappropriate.
A rush of guilt washed over him as he retreated to his office, grappling with the anger that grew beneath the surface. How could someone hurt you, an innocent, kind, and beautiful person? He felt torn, wanting to protect you while recognizing the boundaries he had vowed to uphold.
In the hours that followed, a storm of thoughts brewed within him. It was reckless, perhaps, but the idea of bringing you into his office after hours began to take root. He wanted to voice his concerns casually. But when you began to softly cry, that’s when he felt the line blur. The sight of your flushed cheeks, your pretty doe-like eyes glistening with unshed tears— (fuck, he shouldn’t be thinking like that).
Hongjoong pulled back from his reminiscent thoughts, deciding it was best to let you navigate this situation on your own. Maybe you would uncover the truth about Siwoo, perhaps the pieces would fall into place. But the uncertainty gnawed at him, and as he sat in his office, he couldn’t help but wonder how much longer he could contain his feelings, how much longer he could remain a silent observer to your heartache.
Fuck it? Hongjoong thought to himself. Siwoo deserves a taste of his own medicine.
Hongjoong scoffed to himself at his idea as he sipped on his coffee.
———
The workday unfolded in its usual rhythm, a blur of emails, calls, and the occasional paperwork that seemed to multiply by the hour. You navigated through the tasks with a practiced efficiency, though your mind occasionally drifted to the flurry of messages buzzing on your phone. Each notification from Siwoo felt like a weight pressing down on you, filled with meaningless apologies, and pleads to wire money for some other things, god knows what he needed it for.
With a deep breath, you made the decision to ignore his messages for now. You turned your focus back to your work, fingers typing over the keyboard, pouring your energy into the tasks at hand.
As you typed, the sound of footsteps drew your attention. You looked up to find Hongjoong standing before your desk, his presence commanding yet familiar. He had a way of drawing you in, and for a moment, the chaos of your personal life faded into the background.
“Miss Y/N, please come to my office after work hours,” he said, his tone smooth yet imbued with a seriousness that piqued your curiosity. He turned and strode into his office, leaving you with a flurry of thoughts.
“Yes, sir,” you replied softly, your voice barely above a whisper as you watched him go.
With a sigh, you returned to your work, the clock ticking steadily toward the end of the day. Each keystroke felt heavier as the minutes dragged on, and the anticipation of your meeting with Hongjoong lingered like a sweet ache in your heart.
———
As the final colleagues trickled out of the building, the quiet hum of the office began to settle into an echo of solitude. You sighed as you recalled Hongjoong’s instructions. Straightening your buttoned blouse and smoothing down your skirt, you prepared yourself for whatever awaited you in his office.
You knocked softly, the sound barely breaking the silence.
“Come in,” Hongjoong’s voice resonated through the door. You opened it slowly and stepped inside, closing it behind you with a soft click.
Hongjoong was seated at his desk, his white dress shirt sleeves rolled up, revealing strong forearms accentuated by a dark tie. The sight of him brought a swirl of emotions; he exuded an effortless charisma that both intimidated and drew you in.
“You wanted to see me, sir?” you said, your gaze fixed on the floor, an attempt to hide the mix of anxiety and curiosity swelling inside you.
“Yes, please come here, Y/N,” he replied, his voice calm and low. As you approached him, the familiar sound of your heels clicking against the polished floor echoed in your mind, reminding you of the similar situation a few days ago in this very spot.
“Please, sit,” he gestured toward the chair in front of his desk. You took a seat, positioning yourself at the edge, an instinctive reaction born from uncertainty.
Hongjoong rose from his chair and began to circle around the desk, a pen spinning effortlessly between his slender fingers. The movement was fluid, almost hypnotic, and it pulled your attention as you tried to read his expression.
“Miss Y/N,” he began, pausing for a moment, “you’re one of my smartest employees, correct?” His gaze remained focused elsewhere, a slight distance in his eyes.
“Th—thank you, sir. I—” you started, but his voice cut through your response.
“A person with an important job like yours requires a lot of skill, attentiveness… and have the ability assess the environment around the office, Correct?”
“Yes… that is correct, sir,” you replied quietly, maintaining eye contact,
“Would you agree that you have been lacking some of these skills, Y/N?” Hongjoong stopped infront of you, sitting at the edge of his desk. His arms crossed over his chest, revealing the strong veins that ran along his forearms, an unconscious display of his physicality that made your heart race.
“I—I haven’t noticed, sir. I apologize if I haven’t been performing well…” The words tumbled out, anxiety creeping in. Were you about to get fired? The thought sent a chill through you, and you mentally recoiled at the prospect of your life spiraling further down.
“I’m not going to fire you, Y/N,” he said, and your eyes widened in surprise; it was as if he had plucked the thought straight from your mind.
“I’m not really following this conversation, sir…” you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper as you began to fidget with your fingers in your lap, seeking any distraction from the mounting tension.
Hongjoong released a frustrated sigh, and suddenly he pushed himself off the edge of the desk, stepping toward you slowly. His strong arms landed on the armrests of your chair, effectively trapping you in place. He leaned in closer, the proximity forcing you to lean back into the seat, a gasp escaping your lips at the sudden intimacy of the moment.
The air between you thickened. You could feel the heat radiating from him, the sharpness of his gaze holding you captive.
He scoffed, the corner of his lip turning into a smirk as he looked down. His eyes landed on the unbuttoned opening of your shirt. He sees your chest breathing up and down in anticipation. He looks up, gazes at your lips quickly before looking into your eyes.
“For someone so pretty and smart, you’re quite naive” He chuckles. A rush of heat seeps into your cheeks. You’re at a loss for words. You don’t know how to respond, so you opt to stay silent.
“Miss Y/N” Hongjoong says sternly in a soft voice.
“Yes, Sir?” You quietly reply back.
“Can you assess the environment in this office right now?” His voice is a whisper.
“U—Uhm…” you stutter, not knowing what to say. Hongjoong chuckles at your flustered expression.
“Let me give you a hint, Y/N” Hongjoong whispers and leans in closer, his presence enveloping you like a warm wave. Then, in a moment that felt both thrilling and terrifying, his lips brushed against yours. Your eyes widened in shock. This is wrong, a voice in your mind screamed. You shouldn’t be doing this. But as much as you tried to summon the strength to pull away, your body betrayed you.
His lips were soft, warm, and surprisingly gentle as they molded against yours, igniting a fire that swept through you. The worries around you faded, leaving only the two of you suspended in this unexpected moment. It felt as if time had stopped, your heartbeat loud in your ears, drowning out the rational thoughts that screamed for you to stop.
As he finally pulled away, the distance felt electric, charged with a lingering intimacy. His gaze searched yours, earnest and intense. “Do you understand now?” he murmured, his breath warm against your skin. You nod slowly.
“Do you want me to stop?” He asks softly as he looks at your plush lips. You hesitate, unsure of what to say. All you know is that you want whatever lingering feelings Hongjoong has bestowed on you. As much as you know it’s wrong, you can’t help but crave him.
In response to his question, You shake your head in protest. His thumb caresses your chin tilting your head to look up at him.
“Use your words baby.” Hongjoong’s voice is low as he stares into your eyes, searching for an answer.
“Please… don’t stop sir.” You say quietly. Hongjoong smirks and pulls way from you. You look at him confused. His position is sat back onto the edge of his desk.
“Show me you want it too Y/N” He’s teasing you. Wanting to see how far you’re willing to go. Knowing that deep inside, as much as you want this you still feel a tiny ounce of guilt from being unfaithful to your partner. Regardless, You rise from the chair and make your way to Hongjoong. You position yourself between his legs that are slightly spread and place both your arms on his shoulders. You lean forward and kiss him. Hongjoong returns the kiss almost immediately. He can feel himself already growing hard as his lips move against yours. His hands are securely gripped onto your waist bringing you closer to him. He deepens the kiss and swipes his tongue over the bottom of your lip. In response your mouth opens as you release a whimper. Both of your tongues now move together skillfully, resulting in a moan from both of you. As the heated make-out session continues, you notice Hongjoong’s arm pushing away some papers and other items on the desk behind him.
Smoothly, Hongjoong moves your position, his strong arms swiftly carry your body onto the desk. You are now sat on top of the cold wood, arms wrapped around his neck, as he continued to devour your lips. You slightly pull back in attempt to catch your breath. You’re a panting mess, and so is he. Hongjoong however doesn’t want to stop. He pecks your lips, before leaving a trail kisses from the corner of your mouth, to your soft cheek, and finally to your slender neck. Shivers were sent throughout your body as Hongjoong left soft warm kisses on your neck.
“A—ah Sir…” you whimpered quietly. Hongjoong hummed in response as he began to leave opened mouth kisses on your skin.
Hongjoong pushed your legs apart, your skirt already slightly hiked up from him placing you on the desk moments ago. Revealing your exposed thighs, Hongjoong’s hands moved from knees, and traveled up your soft plush thighs, causing you to close them in an instinct, but his strong arms prevent you, keeping them open.
His lips trails up to your ear nibbles on your lobe before whispering softly, “I want you to say my name okay?” You nod in response.
His hands moved dangerously closer to your heat that was radiating from your exposed thighs, but he stops, he was teasing you. His hands caressed your inner thighs, not daring to move closer as he continued to kiss your neck and face. His lips found his way back to yours and takes it in softly.
You whimper against his mouth and he slowly pulls away.
“What’s wrong baby?” His voice is so soft, sending another heat wave down your body.
“Please… touch me, sir” you say sheepishly.
“I told you Y/N, I want you to say my name.” Hongjoong’s grip on your thighs tighten, causing you to whimper in pain and pleasure.
“H—Hongjoong…” your soft, angelic voice echoed in his ears as his name rolled off your tongue.
“Yeah baby?” He tries to hold back a groan, already so turned on by you calling his name.
“Hongjoong, touch me… please?” You plead with your doe eyes staring at him. Hongjoong bites his lip as he looks at your pretty, desperate face.
“Fuck, Y/N… you make me do stupid shit” He curses under his breath before devouring your lips once again.
This time, his hands finally touch your warm clothed pussy. You moan at his touch. His fingers slowly rub against your clit, creating a friction against the fabric of your underwear. Instinctively, you wrap your arms around his neck tighter. Moaning into his lips as he continues to rub you.
Unexpectedly, tears began to well up in the corner of your eyes. Not in pain, not in discomfort, but in a frustrating pleasure.
“Hong—j-joong, stop teasing please” You whimper as he slightly pulls away. He looks at your face, tears slowly falling down. He smirks, “Mm such a dirty brat, crying for me…” He degrades you in a low tone.
His hands find the hem of your underwear, and he skillfully pulls them down. They rest at the ankles of your legs, stopped by your heels that restricted them from falling to the floor. Hongjoong’s left arm cradles your back, as his right hand pushes up your skirt more to reveal your bare wet pussy.
“Fuck… so wet already just from me kissing you, and barely touching you?” He teases you, even though he too is already so rock hard in his slacks, from just kissing and touching you.
His hand makes his way to your clit. The soft bud of his middle and ring finger gently rubs circles, causing you to hold back a moan. Skillfully, his fingers dip down to your entrance, not fully going inside you, just enough to collect your wet fluids, and bring them back up to your clit. He rubs it again, slowly picking up the pace.
Your right hand drops behind you as it land on the desk, supporting your weight. You slightly throw your head back and cover your mouth with your unoccupied arm trying to hide your moans.
“Let me fucken hear you moan baby. No one is here. Just you and me” Hongjoong groans in your ear. His voice turned you on so much, resulting in a soft moan slipping from your lips.
Hongjoong’s fingers make their way to your entrance. Slipping in your tight folds. You gasp and grab onto his shoulder. He pumps his fingers slowly, as he studies your facial expressions. Your eyes are sparkling from the previous tears you shed. Your glossy lips slightly parted as you released soft moans.
“So fucken pretty” Hongjoong moans as he leans down to kiss your forehead. The gentle gesture, mixed with his lewd actions makes your stomach turn in a good way. He begins to pick up the pace. The office room is silent, with only the sounds of your mixed moans, pants, and the wetness of your folds fapping against Hongjoong’s hand.
Your mind begins to get fuzzy as you feel an orgasm near by. Hongjoong feels your pussy tighten around his digits, he chuckles before he slowly pulls his fingers out of you. You whine in protest, frustration builds up in you, you were so close. Your arm around his neck tugs him closer, reaching for his lips, wanting to feel some sort of physical contact. But he pulls away from you. Completely. He steps back and looks at your figure.
You furrow your eyebrows in confusion, an unsettling knot tightening in your stomach. Why did he stop? Just moments ago, the air had felt charged with lust, and now it hung heavy with an unspoken tension. A flood of negative thoughts surged through your mind, drowning out any remnants of clarity. Embarrassment crept in, a heat rising to your cheeks, making you feel exposed and vulnerable. Guilt wrapped around you like a heavy cloak, its weight almost suffocating. You could feel the sting of tears pooling in your eyes, the familiar ache of despair threatening to spill over. In a swift, instinctive motion, you cast your gaze downward, as if to shield yourself from the world around you. Your heart raced as quiet whimpers escaped your lips.
Hongjoong watches you as you softly cry. He tries not to loose his composure. The cute look of confusion on your face makes him feral.
“Aww baby… why are you crying hm?” Hongjoong’s voice is raspy. He tilts his head, trying to get a good look at your flushed face. You can’t find yourself to respond, only sniffles and soft whimpers can be heard.
“You know… to be completely honest Y/N…” the sound of Hongjoong’s belt unbuckling fills the air. You glance at him with your doe eyes.
“When I told you… I don’t want to see you cry anymore…” He slings his belt off his pants and drops it to the floor. His hands moving towards the button of his slacks. He shifts towards your body, and leans close to your face.
“I actually meant… I don’t want to see you cry for anyone else but me.” Your eyes widen at his statement. He chuckles at your expression and grabs your hands. He brings them towards his hard mound covered by the soft fabric of his pants.
“You look so fucken pretty when you cry. It turns me on so much. Knowing that you feel so good, you can’t help but shed a few tears” He moans as you begin to instinctively rub your hands on his huge hard on.
“Help me out baby. Be a good girl” Hongjoong whispers to you, and you nod. He smiles at your response. You make your way off the desk, and position yourself on your knees. You slowly unzip Hongjoong’s pants and pull them down along with his trousers. His hard, long cock springs out and softly hits your face. You gasp at the sudden sight. Earning a chuckle from him.
“Open your mouth.” He demands softly. Your lips part, tongue slightly sticking out, as you take Hongjoong’s length in. He releases a loud groan. Cursing under his breath as you begin to slowly bob your head up and down. You twirl your tongue a few times over his tip, causing him to tightly grip onto your soft hair.
“F—Fuck baby…” Hongjoong throws his head back.
“… damn, your boyfriend is this lucky and can’t even fucken appreciate you” You freeze at the sudden statement, and Hongjoong smirks as he scoffs. In response, he begins to thrust into your mouth slowly. You moan on his cock as he begins to shove himself deeper into your mouth. You tap Hongjoong’s leg, and he pulls you off him instantly. You gasp for air, a string of saliva connecting from your lip to his cock, as you begin to cough. Hongjoong chuckles, caressing your hair.
“Stand up” He demands. And in an instant you’re on your feet. Hongjoong swiftly lifts you up and places you back onto the desk. His hands are hastily unbuttoning your blouse as he kisses your lips. You moan, furrowing your brows, still thinking about the humiliating statement Hongjoong said. Something about his touch is so intoxicating, making you want more. Making you not care about anything in your reality.
As Hongjoong releases the last button on your blouse, he quickly pushes your shirt off, revealing your black lacy bra filled by your perfect plush breasts. His hands grace over your chest, sending shivers down your spine. He kisses the exposed skin of your breast. His hands moving towards the straps, as he pulls them off. He reaches behind you and skillfully releases the clasps of your bra. The black lace drops swiftly revealing your perfect boobs.
“So fucken perfect for me baby.” Hongjoong whispers as he gropes them with his hands. You moan at his touch. He takes one in his mouth and laps at your nipples, resulting in you throwing your head back in pleasure.
“H—Hongjoong” you moan his name, he hums in response, still working on your breasts.
“Want.. m—more” you stutter under his touch.
He pulls away from you and pants, trying to calm himself down.
“Want more what?” He cocks an eyebrow at you. You pout, too embarrassed to verbally say what you want from him.
“Tell me now, or I’ll leave you here” Hongjoong threatens as he begins to pump himself, already knowing what you want. But he still wants to hear the words from your mouth.
“I want… you inside me… please?” You whimper in embarrassment. You look at him and you see a spark of excitement in his eyes as he smirks at you.
“Atta girl. Wasn’t so hard to say right?” He teases you as he brings himself closer to your pussy. Your breath increases as he places his tip right at the entrance. He only inserts his head before pulling out, repeating the gesture a few times. You whine as a tear falls from your eyes.
“Quit being a fucken brat” Hongjoong hisses at you bringing a gentle hand to your face as he wipes the tear away. Finally, He pushes his whole length inside you, earning a loud yelp from you. His cock instantly hits your sensitive spot and you cling onto his arms. He pauses inside of you, letting you adjust to his size. You’re definitely not used to his large length and thick girth, he’s stretching you out so good.
“Damn baby, you’re so tight? Your boyfriend isn’t big enough huh?” Hongjoong snickers at you. You whine at the sudden mention of your boyfriend again. It’s like he wants to remind you of him on purpose. To humiliate you. Hongjoong begins a slow pace inside you. Grunting as he moves against you.
“Answer me…” he demands, his hand cups your chin to force your gaze on him.
“H—he isn’t big enough. Y—you’re bigger Hongjoong…” You moan as he thrusts deeper.
“You… make me feel s—so good” You close your eyes as you take in the pleasure running through your body. Hongjoong manically smiles. Ecstatic at your response.
“Yeah?” He teases. Picking up his pace. The sound of your sweet moans heighten, the wet sounds of you two slapping against each other fill the room along with Hongjoong’s dirty words.
“Bet you, he doesn’t fuck you this good huh? Look at you. A fucken mess on my cock.”
“N-no! He doesn’t.” You whine, another wave of tears begin to fall from your eyes. The overstimulation of Hongjoong pumping into you along with his degrading words overwhelms you. You don’t want to admit it, but you fucken love this. Your body is enjoying every fucken moment of this dirty, lewd affair.
“F-Fuucckk” Hongjoong moans loudly. “Look at me while you cry, baby. Let me see that pretty face” you listen to him without hesitation. Your eyes locking with his. You feel yourself closer to reaching your high. Until you’re both interrupted with a sudden ringing.
You both turn your heads to the chair you sat on when you first entered Hongjoong’s office. The sight of your bright phone screen illuminates the dim room.
*Siwoo <3 is Calling*
Your heart drops at the name. Anxiety suddenly filling your body, replacing the pleasure you felt before. Hongjoong notices and smirks at you. He reaches over and grabs your phone.
“Answer it.” He demands. You shake your head no.
“I said fucken answer it. Your boyfriend is waiting for you. Don’t be a fucken brat now. Do you want me to stop?” Hongjoong’s words are harsh. You instantly shake your head in protest of him stopping.
“Then fucken answer it” Hongjoong shoves the phone towards you.
You hesitate as you grab the phone from his hands and click the green button. You bring the phone to your ear, but Hongjoong pulls your wrist, and clicks on the speaker button. He cocks his head at you, signaling you to continue,
“H-Hello? Siwoo?” You begin. Hongjoong resumes his pace. Fucking you in and out.
“Hey Honey. What are you doing?” Siwoo’s voice is calm, in contrast to what you’re feeling right now.
“A-Ah.. I’m j-just finishing up some w-work” You stutter as you try to keep your composure. Hongjoong makes it harder for you as he begins to lick your neck.
“You’re still at work?” Siwoo questions.
“M—mm, Yeah. Don’t worry. I—I’ll be home soon” You bite your lip trying to contain a moan.
“You okay Y/N? why do you keep stuttering?” Siwoo’s voices a concern.
“I—i’m okay. I-I just don’t feel too well. I think it’s a stomach tic” You bluff, trying to find an excuse.
“You don’t feel well? Shall I come pick you up from work-?” Siwoo suggests
“No!” You cut him off. You curse to yourself. Hongjoong smiles against a your neck and softly bites it as he continues fucking you senseless.
“Oh- okay then. Just be careful. take some medicine” You roll your eyes. (why the fuck does Siwoo decide to be sweet right now out of all days?) You mentally say to yourself.
“Y-yes I will…” You reply softly.
“Anyways, did you see my text? can you wire me some money?” Siwoo asks nonchalantly. You scoff, earning a vocalized chuckle from Hongjoong. Your eyes widen as you pull him closer to your neck, trying to muffle his laughter. You bite your lip, in hopes Siwoo didn’t hear anything.
“S—sorry, Siwoo. I don’t get paid till this Friday.” you manage to get out.
“Aww please? just a few bucks” Siwoo whines. In annoyance, you roll your eyes once again.
“Siwoo, I—I can’t. I have to go” You quickly hang up the call and throw your phone down. Hongjoong detaches from your neck and chuckles before attacking your lips. His pace begins to pick up. He holds onto your waist for support and you hold him closer. Hongjoong pulls away from your lips and rests his forehead against yours.
“Does he take care of you? or do you take care of him?” He teases as he tries to hold back a laugh.
“S—Shut up” You moan in response. Hongjoong thrusts hard into you, earning a loud yelp from you.
“Someone’s suddenly mouthy?” Hongjoong’s hand grips onto your chin as he lightly taps your cheek.
“F—Fuck” You moan as he shoves himself inside you, with long and deep strokes.
Hongjoong then suddenly pulls out of you. Not wanting to waste any time, he lifts you off the desk and flips you over. Your front is pushed onto the cold wood, and he pulls your hips higher. Your forearms hoist yourself for support as you feel Hongjoong enter you once again. His hands grip under your skirt pushing them up towards your waist, giving him a perfect view of your ass. He mentally curses to himself as he watches your butt bounce on his cock at a constant pace. He brings his hand down to caress it before raising it and bringing it back down in a hard, but pleasurable slap. You yelp in response, eyes widen at the sudden contact.
“Such a fucken naughty girl. Fucking your boss, when you have a boyfriend” Hongjoong degrades you as his hand makes contact with your ass again. You whimper at the stinging sensation. Your tears fall onto the papers infront of you.
“Who fucks you better baby?” Hongjoong pants as his speed increases. “Me or Siwoo? Hm?” He asks again taking you in deeper.
“A—Ahhhh~ You, Hongjoong.” You sniffle your tears , “Hongjoong fucks me better!” You scream as his pace becomes sloppy. Hongjoong hears your crying whimpers and quickly turns you around to face him. Your body now lays flat on his desk as he pumps into you.
“Yeah? bet I can be better lover than him too” Hongjoong confesses as he smashes his lips onto yours. Your heart clenches at his statement. A sudden wave of orgasm hits you. Your pussy tightens around him as you come undone. Your arms wrapped around his neck as you release a loud moan. Your face buried in his chest, as he continues to fuck you and chase his high. Hongjoong’s thrust become sloppy, and quickly pulls out of you.
“Let me cum on your pretty face” He hastily demands. You quickly move towards his lower body and he pumps himself quickly on you. Hongjoong looks at your sparkly doe eyes, and bites his lips. His warm thick load releases into your face, along with a loud grunt from his mouth. You gasp as the feeling of the strings of cum landing on your soft skin. Your mouth instinctively opens,
“F—Fuckkk baby” Hongjoong hisses as he continues to pump more of his load onto your tongue.
The office room is filled with the sounds of you and Hongjoong panting, trying to catch your breath. The room reeks of sex. Your eyes are still locked on his. His white cum painted on your face and mouth. Without any other choice, you close your mouth and swallow his bittersweet cum.
“Fuck” Hongjoong whispers under his breath. He caresses your hair and reaches over his desk to grab a few tissue papers. Hongjoong wipes your face gently and kisses your forehead.
"Let me clean you up down there,"
Hongjoong whispered, his voice a soft, intimate murmur that seemed to linger in
the air between you. The earlier intensity of steamy sex had left a palpable tension, but now, a gentle calm enveloped the room. His eyes, once aflame with desire, were now filled with a warmth that reassured you, reminding you of the caring side he often showed.
After the whirlwind of passion, Hongjoong's demeanor had transformed completely. The fire that had ignited between you both settled into a tender glow as he moved closer, his presence both comforting and protective. With a steady hand, he reached for another tissue, his fingers brushing your skin lightly as he began to clean you up. The touch was careful and deliberate, as if he were trying to convey his affection through each gentle motion.
You felt a mix of vulnerability and warmth wash over you, grateful for the way he approached this moment. It was as though he understood the importance of transitioning from the intensity of physical connection to something more nurturing and intimate. You appreciated how he took his time, ensuring that you felt cared for, both emotionally and physically. As you two began to help each other back into your clothing, you couldn’t ignore the lingering feelings.
“I’ll take you home” Hongjoong smiles gently at you and brushes a strand of your hair out of your face. You nod and follow behind him out of his office. As he approached your desk, Hongjoong gathered your bags. You instinctively reached out to grab them, but he gently shook his head, a soft smile playing on his lips.
“Let me handle this,” he said, his voice warm and reassuring. With that, he took the lead, guiding you toward his car.
As you followed behind, your legs felt wobbly, you could sense him glancing back occasionally, ensuring you were still keeping up.
At the car, he paused, opening the passenger door, gesturing for you to get in. You slid into the seat. He placed your bags in the back with care, then turned to you, his demeanor softening as he reached for his spare coat. With a fluid motion, he draped it over your shoulders, its warmth enveloping you like a comforting hug.
“Hongjoong—” you started, the silence stretching between you, but he raised a hand to quiet you.
“Shh, it’s okay, Y/N. You don’t have to say anything. Just rest,” he said gently. He leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead.
The drive home was silent. The hum of the engine a lullaby in the stillness of the night. You fought to keep your eyes open, fatigue clawing at you, but each passing moment, tried to invite you to surrender to the drowsiness. Suddenly, the car came to a stop, signaling at you from your drowsy haze. You turned to look at Hongjoong, who was already gazing at you.
“Y/N…” Hongjoong’s voice was barely above a whisper, yet it carried an undeniable weight. “I meant what I said when I told you I can be a better lover than Siwoo.” The sincerity in his tone sent a shiver down your spine. “He doesn’t treat you well. You deserve someone who truly values you.” His eyes held a raw intensity as he continued, “I don’t think I can go on without you knowing that I’ve always wanted you for myself.”
His sudden confession took you by surprise, leaving you momentarily speechless. The air around you felt charged, and you could hardly process the emotions swirling within you.
“Let me prove to you that I will love you better. Please, Y/N,” he urged, his gaze earnest and imploring. The vulnerability he displayed was a stark contrast to what he portrayed in the office just moments ago. This was a side of him that revealed his deep feelings, and it struck a chord within you.
Your heart raced as you absorbed his words, the truth of them resonating deep inside. You had long felt the magnetic pull toward him, the warmth in his presence that made you feel seen in a way Siwoo never had. You realized in that moment that you, too, wanted to love him—fully and unreservedly.
Compelled by a rush of emotion, you leaned in closer, the space between you evaporating. Your lips met his in a tender kiss, a hesitant exploration that quickly deepened as he responded. His hands found their way to your face, cradling it gently as he pulled you in, his touch igniting a warmth that spread through your entire being.
“Fuck- if you kiss me like that I might take you right here again” Hongjoong chuckles against your lips. And you giggle in response. However, his expression falls down.
“Y/N… I should tell you that Siwoo has been cheating on you.” Hongjoong sighs as he rests his forehead against yours.
“Who’s Siwoo?” You joke trying to mask your disappointment of him mentioning your now ex. “Y/N, I know I initiated an affair while you are dating him too but, you needed to know.” Hongjoong states in a serious tone.
“I know, Hongjoong.” You say softly. “I figured after our conversation we had on Friday, when he came over to my house the next day. I guess my naive self chose to ignore it… I messaged him earlier when we got to the car that I’m over with him. I’m no longer his.” You look at Hongjoong as he studies your face.
“So… does this mean you’re mine?” Hongjoong raises an eyebrow. You softly smile and shrug your shoulders. Hongjoong smirks at you and in an instant unbuckles his seat belt and exits the car. He makes his way to the passenger door and opens it. Swiftly, he lifts your body and throws you over his shoulder. You yelp in response and he carries you towards his house.
“You drove us to your house?!” You exclaim as you giggle over his shoulder.
“Let me remind you again who you really belong to” Hongjoong chuckles as he playfully slaps your ass and quickly makes his way through the doors of his home.
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Pt. 2 (updated 10/21)
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Author’s commentary: Should I do a sequel? 👀. I had way more ideas for this story but decided to cut it short LOLLL. Anyways, I hope yall enjoy😝 feel free to fangirl in my comment section/ ask box🤭.
hiiiii i have a question about my dear darling. how many chapters are you planning on making for the series? i love the series so much and cant wait for more chapters to come! hehe
Hi! i’m not sure yet. Maybe about at least 10 chapters. I’m writing as I upload these chapters, so the numbers of chapters can be subject to change. Thank you so much for your love and support!
add on to the model x fashion designer reader idea i just sent (if it went through, because tumblr likes eating my asks, if not i will resend it!!)
that idea was based off the song “trouble” by frank ocean. it’s not officially released but you can find it on youtube anywhere. it’s basically a love song about him being in love with an older woman 😚🤭
LOVE LOVE LOVEEEEEEEEEEE !!!! In regard to my previous reply to your first comment, the story I’m working on with San is based off the song Dopamine by Giselle of Aespa🤭. BUT SERIOUSLY I LOVE YOUR IDEA ! I will definitely take some time to most likely create a story for you🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭
i loved loved loved your cry for me trilogy, and i had another potential idea for you set in the same or a parallel universe !!
model seonghwa or hongjoong x fashion designer reader?? she’s probably slightly older than him too, has that “don’t fuck with me” exterior but is actually super sweet and submissive when comfortable?! following a similar pattern, maybe her “villain” is her recently divorced husband
WAIT ANON YOUR MIND!!???🤭 This would be so hot😝. What’s actually kind of crazy, is that i’m currently writing a San oneshot that’s similar to your idea👀. (excluding the age gap. instead both san and reader are models….) MAYBE I’LL CONSIDER THIS🤭 Let this marinate in my head for abit😝
Hello fellow readers! thank you so much for the recent love and support for my writings. I just wanted to make a post on my upcoming plans for my current and future writings:
• Cry For Me Sequel and a surprise is OUT NOW🫣. I know it took me so long to upload the sequel but I hope you can forgive me with the surprise🤭.
• As for My Dear Darling, Chapter 5 and 6 is in the works! I hope to have it uploaded within this week or next week (from today’s posting). We get to dive into Y/N’s relationship with the rest of the members as well as finally get a little something something 👀
• Lastly, I’m also working on a San oneshot inspired by his D&G vlog😮💨. For a little sneak peak….. the title is called ‘Dopamine’ (inspired by Aespa’s Giselle, song Dopamine.)
“I don't need no man, just accessories. That's what I thought I was, but honestly. You know all that's fake, and God knows why I need you”
Notes: Cheating (don’t do it yall. this is just fiction), Unprotected sex (wrap it up!!! do not try this irl, it is pure fantasy!), explicit language, dacryphilia kink, humiliation, degrading, power fixation, Hongjoong lowkey manipulates (but for the better ig lol)
Word Count: 13k (condensed some ideas to bring down the word count LOL)
Authors note: This is pure horny imagination and in NO WAY, reflects on the characters in real life! If you do not like this type of content pls ignore or block me.
Pt. 2 | Pt. 3
———————————————————————
As you stepped into your apartment, the night sky cast a deep blue glow through the windows, shimmering like a vast ocean. The warm glow of the sensor lights flickered on, illuminating the entryway and casting soft shadows on the walls. You paused for a moment, a frustrated sigh escaping your lips, echoing in the stillness of the room.
It was the fifth time this month that your boyfriend had canceled on you, and each time felt like another nail in the coffin of what once seemed like a blossoming romance. The disappointment settled heavily in your chest, making each step toward the kitchen feel more burdensome than the last.
With a determined resolve, you made your way to the fridge, the familiar chill greeting you as you opened the door. Your fingers closed around a half-filled bottle of wine, the label slightly crumpled from the many times it had been hastily put back. You pulled it out, and reached for a glass. You stare blankly as you poured the wine, watching as the dark liquid rose to the rim, glistening in the soft light. Without hesitation, you brought it to your lips, taking a few deep gulps, each swallow both comforting and numbing. As the warmth spread through you, tears began to prick at the corners of your eyes, a familiar sensation that you had tried so hard to push away.
The memories of the past 2 years flooded back—Siwoo’s laughter, the shared moments that now felt like distant echoes. But lately, he had become a stranger, his warmth replaced by an impenetrable distance. You had tried to reach out, to bridge the growing gap, but each time ended in disappointment. Now, standing in your quiet apartment, you felt a profound sense of loss that had settled deep within you, leaving you feeling numb, as if you were merely going through the motions of life without truly living it.
You quickly wiped your tears away, the salty tracks on your cheeks feeling foreign yet familiar. With each brush of your fingers, the sadness that had threatened to overwhelm you twisted into something sharper—anger.
*Ding.*
The sudden sound pulled your attention away from your thoughts. You turned your head toward your phone, its screen lighting up with a notification. The sight of Siwoo's name, accompanied by a little heart, made your heart sink further.
Siwoo <3: I’m sorry I cancelled again. Please don’t hate me. I’ll see you on your lunch tomorrow.
You stared at the message, the words blurring momentarily as your vision wavered. Another empty promise. With a shaky hand, you raised your glass to your lips, the bitter taste of the wine filling your mouth as you took another long gulp. It was a poor substitute for the warmth you once felt from Siwoo's presence.
You couldn't bring yourself to respond—not now. You needed a few moments to gather your swirling emotions, to avoid lashing out with the hurt and anger that simmered just beneath the surface. The silence of the apartment enveloped you, amplifying your racing thoughts and making the weight of his message all the more suffocating.
Once you finished the rest of the wine bottle, you felt the tension in your shoulders ease just a fraction. You turned away from your phone, not wanting to see another message or another reminder of the chasm that seemed to grow between you. With heavy steps, you made your way to the bedroom.
You plopped down onto the bed, the soft sheets cradling you in their embrace. As your body sank into the mattress, fatigue overtook you, pulling you into a deep slumber. In the quiet darkness, you hoped for dreams that could somehow soothe the ache in your heart, if only for a little while.
———
The next day dawned with a muted light filtering through the curtains, the world outside still waking up. You rolled over, disoriented for a moment, before the reality of the day ahead crashed over you. With a groan, you pushed yourself up, the remnants of last night’s indulgence weighing heavily in your mind.
As you shuffled to the bathroom, the headache from downing that last glass of wine throbbed at your temples, a persistent reminder of your restless night. You cursed under your breath, regretting the decision to finish the bottle in a moment of vulnerability.
You quickly went through the motions of your morning routine. Your job as the secretary for one of the most well-known CEOs in the Creative Arts Institution required precision and poise, a stark contrast to the emotional turmoil that had kept you up late. You dressed in a tailored blouse and a pencil skirt, the fabric smoothing against your skin as you adjusted the collar. The mirror reflected a professional exterior, yet you felt anything but composed inside.
After applying a touch of makeup to mask the fatigue in your eyes, you gathered your things—laptop, planner, and the ever-essential cup of coffee that awaited you in the kitchen.
———
As you step into the tall building, the morning sun filters through the glass façade, casting geometric shadows across the polished marble lobby. The familiar bustle of your colleagues greets you, their voices merging with the gentle hum of fluorescent lights. You nod and smile as you greet in response. You make your way to the elevator, its silver doors glinting in the light. Pressing the button for the top floor, you mentally prepare for the day ahead, trying not to show your exhausted emotions, mentally and physically. When the doors slide open, you step into the expansive hallway lined with art. At the end of the corridor, you enter the grand office door. You walk to the enormous desk adorned with a gold plaque that reads “CEO Kim Hongjoong” and set down the iced Americano you picked up on your way in. You reach into your tote bag and retrieve a neatly organized file folder. Flipping it open, you scan through today’s itinerary, noting the key meetings and tasks that lie ahead. Once satisfied with your briefing, you close the folder and return it to your bag. You head to the front desk positioned just outside the CEO's office, and begin your morning tasks. Every day in the office has settled into a rhythm, a familiar routine that feels almost automatic.
“Good morning, Mr. Kim!” “Hello, Mr. Kim!” The greetings echo as your colleagues bow slightly, their respect palpable.
You rise from your chair, straightening your blouse, and offer a nonchalant nod, masking the exhaustion lingering just beneath the surface.
“Good morning, Mr. Kim,” you say as you bow, forcing a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes. Hongjoong approaches, his expression warm yet focused.
“Hello, Y/N. Have you prepared everything for today’s schedule?” he asks, moving past you toward his office.
“Yes, you have a meeting in an hour with a client…” you begin to relay the itinerary, following him inside. He settles into his chair, taking a sip of the Americano and nods in response.
“Also, I dealt with the complaints from the last exhibition. Everything’s been taken care of, just like you wanted,” you add, your tone casual, though the weight of your own issues tugs at your thoughts. Hongjoong looks up, a smile breaking across his face.
“That’s why I have you as my secretary, Miss Y/N. Thank you so much.”
You nod, the compliment momentarily brightening your mood, but it’s fleeting. You bow again before slipping out of the office. As the door closes behind you, you take a deep breath, pushing the worries from your relationship to the back of your mind, ready to tackle the day ahead with practiced indifference.
Throughout the morning, you flit in and out of meetings, accompanying Hongjoong as he navigates a flurry of tasks. The office is a hive of activity, and you move seamlessly between conversations, taking notes and organizing files, but the weight of your personal life hangs heavy in the back of your mind.
You glance at the clock on your desk: just thirty minutes until your hour break. A sigh escapes your lips, and you reach for your phone, hesitating. Siwoo’s message sits unread, a lingering question mark in your thoughts. You know you should respond, but the uncertainty of his invitation makes you hesitate. Is it pettiness that keeps you from reaching out, or a defense mechanism to shield your heart from further pain? You shake off the intrusive thoughts, forcing yourself to focus on the tasks at hand.
*Ding.* Your phone buzzes, drawing your attention. It’s another message from Siwoo.
Siwoo <3: I won’t be able to make it today. Something came up at work. Sorry.
You scoff under your breath, a bitter taste filling your mouth. His absence stings, but you’ve braced yourself for this—after all, it’s become a pattern.
Just then, Hongjoong’s voice crackles through the telephone intercom on your desk, interrupting your spiraling thoughts. “Miss Y/N, please come to my office.”
“Yes, sir,” you reply, rising from your seat with a practiced smile as you make your way into his office.
“What can I do for you, Mr. Kim?” you ask, your tone polite, carefully masking the frustration beneath the surface from Siwoo’s message.
Hongjoong leans back in his chair, his expression serious.
“I know you have your hour break in twenty minutes, but I just got off the phone with a potential client. They want to meet over lunch in a few minutes, and I need you to tag along to take notes. If you can wait on your break for another hour, I’ll cover your meal if you accompany me now.”
His words feel more like an instruction than a request, and you nod in response, pushing your personal frustrations aside.
“Of course, sir. Shall I call the chauffeur now?”
“No need,” he replies, grabbing his briefcase. “We’ll take my vehicle. I’ll drive.”
You nod and follow Hongjoong out of the building.
You settled into the passenger seat next to Hongjoong, the sleek interior of the car enveloping you. The rhythmic clicking of the turn signal punctuated the silence, while the soft murmur of the news on the radio served as a gentle backdrop.
“Miss Y/N, is everything alright?” Hongjoong's voice cut through the quiet, steady and attentive. You turned to him, slightly taken aback by his directness.
“Y-Yes, sir. What makes you concerned?” you replied, a hint of surprise coloring your voice. His eyes remained fixed on the road, focused yet perceptive.
“My top employee—my secretary—has been unusually quiet lately. You seem a bit off,” he remarked, expertly navigating the car into a parking lot. His concern was genuine, and you felt a flutter of warmth at his attention.
“I apologize if I gave that impression today, sir. I assure you, I’m alright,” you replied, straightening in your seat, trying to project confidence. Hongjoong parked the car and turned to face you, his expression serious.
“Y/N, I’m not just talking about today. You’ve been like this for a few days now. I don’t want to pry, but if something is bothering you, please let me know. You never slack off—well, not that I’ve noticed—but you’re a vital part of our team. If you’re not at your best, it affects us all, especially me. Let’s tackle any issues together, professionally.” His words carried a weight of understanding that took you by surprise.
You hesitated, unsure of how much to reveal.
“I… I apologize, sir. It’s just some personal issues in my relationship. I promise I won’t let it interfere with my work,” you said softly, your gaze dropping to your hands in your lap. You feared that honesty might blur the lines of your professional relationship.
Hongjoong regarded you with a thoughtful expression, his brow slightly furrowing. “Problems in your relationship?” he asked gently. You nodded, keeping your head bowed.
“Yes. I appreciate you asking,” you replied, feeling a rush of gratitude mixed with apprehension.
“Thank you for sharing that with me,” he said, his tone shifting back to his usual professional demeanor. “Let’s get to work.”
The next hour unfolded at a high-end restaurant, its luxurious ambiance creating the perfect setting for a business meeting. You sat next to Hongjoong, across from two potential clients, the atmosphere charged with opportunity. As they discussed plans for an upcoming exhibition, you diligently took notes, your mind sharpening as you transitioned into your role.
Hongjoong exuded charisma, ordering champagne and an array of exquisite appetizers while skillfully guiding the conversation. You admired the way he balanced authority with approachability, creating an atmosphere of collaboration.
———
As promised, Hongjoong granted you your hour break once you both returned to the office. The day had been packed with meetings and conversations, but you had already eaten at the restaurant, so instead of lingering in the bustling atmosphere of the office, you decided to find solace on the rooftop.
Ascending to the rooftop, you pushed open the heavy door, the cool air hitting your face like a refreshing wave. You walked over to one of the bistro tables, the metal surface gleaming under the midday sun. You sank into one of the chairs, letting out a deep sigh that released the pent-up stress from the morning. In your left hand, you cradled an iced Americano to keep you alert. In your right, you held your phone, its screen illuminating your face as you contemplated the text messages from Siwoo.
He should be off work by now, you thought, scrolling through the thread of messages. You hesitated, biting your lip, unsure of how to approach him. The uncertainty had lingered in your mind for days, and it felt like a weight on your chest. After a moment’s deliberation, you resolved to take initiative and give him a call.
You tapped his name, and set the phone on speaker. As the phone rang, the sound echoed in the serene space around you. It rang for what felt like an eternity until finally, you heard his voice on the other end, slightly breathless.
“H-hello? Y/N?” Siwoo stuttered, his tone hesitant.
“Siwoo, what are you doing?” you asked, trying to sound calm, though your heart raced with anticipation.
“Mmm, n-nothing much, just working out. I-I went to the gym after work,” he replied, punctuating his words with a grunt that surprised you. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. Since when did he ever work out?
You decided to push forward, hoping to reconnect. “Do you want to come over tonight? I’ll make dinner,” you offered, softening your voice as if trying to coax him back into your world.
“A-ahh, probably not tonight. I have to finish some work at h-home,” he stuttered again, his voice strained, as though he were struggling for breath.
Disappointment settled in your stomach, but you pressed on. “I can come over then, yeah? I’ll make you your favorite dish?” You mentally kicked yourself for even suggesting it, a flicker of doubt reminding you of all the times he had flaked out before.
“N-no, Y/N. I-It’s okay. A-ahh!” Siwoo grunted loudly, and a chill ran through you at the sound.
“Siwoo, what’s going on?!” You raised your voice slightly, urgency creeping in.
“I told you, Y/N. I’m working out. We can’t see each other tonight; I’m busy. I have to go,” he snapped, the finality in his tone cutting through the air like a knife. The line went dead, leaving you with only the echo of his voice. Your heart sank, a familiar ache running within you.
You stared at the phone in disbelief, the cool metal suddenly feeling heavy in your hand. How could he do this again? A mix of frustration and sadness swirled in your chest, and you felt a lump form in your throat. You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself, but it did little to quell the rising tide of emotions.
——
You glance at the small digits on your screen, the glowing numbers reading 8:00 PM. Your shift officially ended thirty minutes ago, but here you sat, a blend of dedication and denial keeping you tethered to your desk. Guilt washed over you, a stark reminder of Hongjoong’s earlier words. There was no point in heading home, not when the weight of unfinished tasks bore down on you. The quiet of your apartment would only invite sorrow, while the office, though nearly deserted, offered a comforting distraction.
The atmosphere had shifted; the energy of the day had given way to silence as colleagues trickled out, exchanging soft goodbyes. Each farewell came with a gentle reminder not to work too hard, and you managed a smile, masking the turmoil brewing inside you. Once they departed, you returned your focus to the glowing screen, rifling through files and diligently noting necessary information, your fingers a blur over the keyboard.
A flicker of light caught your eye—a warm streaming light from Hongjoong’s office. You raised an eyebrow in curiosity; you’d assumed he had left an hour ago. Shaking off the thoughts that threatened to wander, you turned back to your work.
“Y/N?” Hongjoong’s voice broke through your concentration. You looked up at him through your rectangular glasses that rested on your face. He cut an impressive figure, dressed in a fitted black dress shirt and a black vest that accentuated his shoulders.(What the fuck Y/N; he’s your boss.) You mentally scolded yourself, attempting to dismiss any inappropriate thoughts.
“O-Oh, yes sir?” you replied, setting your pen down on the desk.
“Your shift ended an hour ago. Why are you still here?” His brow arched in genuine curiosity, his tone both commanding and concerned.
“I’m just catching up on some work, sir. I apologize. I’ll be heading home soon,” you replied, striving for composure even as nerves danced in your stomach.
“Y/N, come to my office,” he said, his calm demeanor masking the authority in his request. You hesitated, uncertainty creeping in. Why did he want to speak in private, especially when the office was nearly empty?
Despite your reservations, you take off your glasses frames, place them on your desk and follow him into his office. The door clicking shut behind you, a sound that felt like a declaration. The dim light cast long shadows, enveloping the room. He sits at the edge of his desk with his arms crossed.
“What’s going on in your relationship?” Hongjoong asked, his tone direct yet oddly informal. The question hung in the air, leaving you momentarily stunned. Your eyes widened, and you felt a flush creeping up your neck.
“Sir, I don’t think it’s appropriate to talk about personal matters at work…” you managed to reply, your fingers fidgeting nervously as you avoided his gaze.
“It’s after work hours, Y/N. You can speak comfortably,” he said, his voice calm and soothing, yet imbued with a sharpness that conveyed he was not one to be easily dismissed. “I can tell something is wrong.”
You hesitated, the weight of his gaze making it difficult to formulate a response. A swirl of emotions crashed over you—fear of crossing professional boundaries mixed with the realization that perhaps he genuinely wanted to connect with you on a deeper level. Colleagues had often joked about how you and Hongjoong were like a married couple at work, a notion you had always brushed aside. The title felt cliché, almost childish, and you had preferred to maintain a strictly professional atmosphere.
But as you looked at him, a flicker of understanding passed between you. Maybe he wasn’t just playing the role of the CEO tonight. Perhaps he truly wanted to understand what you were going through. You took a deep breath, your heart racing as you considered opening up.
“We have… just been distant lately,” you say hesitantly, the words slipping out with reluctance. “Our schedules don’t seem to be aligning, and our communication is off. That is all, sir.” You glance at him, searching for a response.
He hums thoughtfully, nodding in acknowledgment. “Shall I… cut your hours? Maybe find a second secretary to fill in while you get to spend more time with your significant other?” His voice carried a teasing lilt, yet there was an undercurrent of seriousness that sent a rush of heat to your cheeks.
“N-no, sir!” The words escaped your lips almost too hastily, an instinctive reaction that made you feel slightly embarrassed. Hongjoong chuckled, his head lowering momentarily before he lifted it again, locking eyes with you.
“So, is it his schedule that’s not cooperating with yours?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. You nodded in silence, the weight of your emotions pressing down as you considered the truth behind your answer.
“Mm… interesting.” Hongjoong tapped his chin thoughtfully, the wheels of his mind clearly turning. Curiosity prickled at you; what was going through his head? You couldn’t help but wonder about the direction this conversation was taking.
“Y/N, if you don’t mind me asking, what does your partner do for a living?” he asked, his tone calm and inviting.
“He’s a professor at the university located downtown,” you replied softly, your voice barely above a whisper, as if sharing a secret.
“A professor?” Hongjoong mused, a hint of skepticism coloring his tone. “I doubt their schedules are that busy compared to yours—a full-time secretary for a well-known company.” He dropped his hands into his pockets, his gaze intent and probing.
“Are you sure you should be concerned about his schedule? Maybe… it’s something more?” Hongjoong added nonchalantly, his casual demeanor contrasting sharply with the seriousness of his implication.
You felt a wave of confusion wash over you. What was he suggesting? Your mind raced, trying to decipher his words. Was he implying that the distance in your relationship could be rooted in something deeper than just busy schedules? The thought unsettled you, but a part of you was intrigued by his concern. You hesitated, caught in a web of uncertainty as you considered how to respond.
“I—I’m not sure what you mean, sir…” you murmured, your gaze dropping to your black heels, the polished tips reflecting the dim light of the office.
“Come here, Y/N,” Hongjoong said, his voice a blend of softness and authority that sent a shiver down your spine. Almost instinctively, you found your feet moving toward him, the rhythmic click of your pumps echoing softly against the floor as you approached. You stopped just in front of his black loafers, your heart racing in your chest.
“Closer,” he instructed, his voice lowering, deepening with an intensity that made you catch your breath. You stepped forward, positioning yourself between his slightly parted legs, the air thick with unspoken tension.
His hand reached out, a gentle yet firm grasp settling on your waist. You gasped in shock, the unexpected warmth of his touch flooding through you. This is wrong, you thought, panic stirring within, but something deeper held you in place, a pull that made it difficult to consider pulling away. Instead, you stood there, caught in a moment that felt both exhilarating and terrifying.
“Maybe…” Hongjoong began, his thumb rubbing softly against the fabric of your blouse, the gentle motion both soothing and unsettling.
“your partner is being unfaithful…?” The words hung heavy in the air, a sentence that felt like a blade slicing through your gut.
A part of you recoiled at the thought, refusing to believe it. Yet, as you stood there, something nagged at you, a whisper of doubt that you couldn’t shake. The realization that he might be right crept in like a shadow, darkening your thoughts. Stupidly, your heart leaped to defend Siwoo, the man you cared for, even as uncertainty gnawed at you.
“Mr. Kim, I don’t appreciate you assuming that,” you replied quietly, your voice barely above a whisper as you stared between the gap of Hongjoong’s legs that revealed the floor, refusing to meet his gaze.
“You don’t know our relationship, so please do not accuse him of such acts…” you added, your tone a fragile mixture of firmness and vulnerability. As the words left your lips, you felt your eyes begin to well with tears, confusion and anger swirling within you. You trusted Siwoo; you had to. But the doubts Hongjoong had planted took root, and you didn’t understand why he was suddenly acting like this.
You wanted to leave, to escape the charged atmosphere and the unsettling intimacy of the moment, but your feet remained stuck to the floor. Deep down, beneath the rising tide of panic, you recognized that you craved the odd comfort Hongjoong provided, a warmth that felt so different from the turmoil in your heart.
Suddenly, a whimper escaped your lips, a sound that surprised you as tears began to cascade down your cheeks, dropping onto Hongjoong’s lap.
“Oh, baby…” Hongjoong cooed, his voice laced with a tenderness. You gasped at the sudden pet name. With a gentle yet deliberate movement, his unoccupied hand reached toward your face, lifting your chin slightly so that he could wipe away the tears that streamed relentlessly down. Your eyes however, still refusing to look at him. The warmth of his touch sent a shiver through you, and your heart raced at the intimacy of the moment.
“You defend him, yet you’re crying,” he observed, his voice low and soothing, but his words only added to the turmoil within you. It was as if he could see right through the facade you had tried to maintain. As his hand, previously resting on your waist, moved to the other side of your face, you felt the weight of his palms cupping your cheeks, an act of reassurance that both calmed and stirred your emotions.
“Look at me, Y/N” Hongjoong softly demands. Your pretty eyes look at him. Sparkling from the tears that are still streaming down your face slowly. Hongjoong bit his lip, fighting to maintain his composure, though he couldn’t help but think how fucken pretty you look when you cried… how vulnerable.
“I’m sorry for assuming,” he continued, his tone tender yet firm. “It was unprofessional of me. I was just trying to express my concerns.” His fingers brushed against your skin as he gently cupped your face, his thumbs softly stroking away the remnants of your tears. “I don’t want to see you cry anymore, okay?”
Confusion swirled within you, a mix of gratitude and uncertainty. What was Hongjoong doing? His touch sent conflicting signals through your mind, making it hard to decipher the intentions behind his kindness. You felt your heart race as he held your gaze, searching for answers that remained elusive.
“Let me take you home. It’s getting late.” He reluctantly withdrew his hands, the warmth of his touch lingering on your skin. Hongjoong lightly tapped your waist,
“Okay?” he asked again, his voice softening as he sought your approval. You nodded, your heart fluttering as you looked into his eyes, those doe-like orbs filled with an innocence that belied the complexities of your situation. The air between you was thick with unspoken words, each moment stretching out as you found solace in his presence, even amidst the confusion.
———
The car glided smoothly along the quiet streets, the only sounds breaking the stillness were the gentle notes floating from the radio and the rhythmic tapping of Hongjoong’s fingers on the steering wheel. Each beat resonated with the unspoken tension lingering between you, a subtle backdrop to the whirlwind of thoughts spinning in your mind.
As the car pulled up in front of your apartment building, you felt a mix of relief and reluctance. The evening air was cool against your skin as you unbuckled your seatbelt and gathered your bags, the weight of the day still heavy on your shoulders.
“Thank you for the ride, Mr. Kim,” you said, bowing your head slightly, unable to meet his gaze. It was a gesture of politeness, but it felt more like a shield, protecting you from the warmth of his soft smile that you could sense even without looking.
“No worries, Miss Y/N. I’ll see you Monday,” he replied, his voice soft but filled with an unshakeable confidence. You heard the warmth in his tone, even as you turned away and walked towards the entrance of your apartment building, his farewell echoing in your ears.
The elevator ride felt interminable as you ascended to your floor, each ding of the buttons amplifying the heaviness in your chest. Finally, you stepped into your small apartment, the familiar space offering little comfort. You dragged your feet toward your room, exhaustion pulling you down, both physically and emotionally.
Once inside, you kicked off your heels, the sharp clack against the floor a welcome relief. You stripped off your clothes with a mindless haste, leaving only your undergarments as you collapsed onto your bed. The cool sheets enveloped you, but they couldn’t ease the confusion swirling in your thoughts.
With a deep, resigned sigh, you sank into the mattress, your mind replaying fragments of your conversation with Hongjoong.
In a moment of desperation, you reached for your phone, dialing Siwoo’s number. The ringing felt like an eternity, and when it went to voicemail, a knot tightened in your stomach. You glanced at the clock—10 PM. Another attempt led to the same unyielding voicemail. Frustration filled within you, mixing with a pang of anxiety that settled in your chest.
You closed your eyes, trying to steady your breathing. The coolness of the room contrasted sharply with the heat of your thoughts. Slowly, memories of Hongjoong flooded your mind—his perfect figure leaning casually against the desk, his strong hand lingering on your arm, the gentle caress of his fingers against your face.
Your heart ached, not for Siwoo, but for Hongjoong. You suddenly craved his comforting and reassuring voice. His lingering touch on your skin. Your legs close together as you feel a wave of warmth between your thighs. Your hands moved down your soft skin, reaching towards your heat…
You gasp softly, shaking your head, trying to dismiss these feelings. This wasn’t supposed to be happening. You shouldn’t be thinking about him like this. Hongjoong is your Boss. And plus you have Siwoo. Your… loving boyfriend.
The weight of silence wraps around you like a thick fog, pressing down on your chest as you lie in bed, staring at the ceiling. You can’t shake the feeling that these spiraling thoughts. In frustration you convince yourself that you’re probably just deprived of touch from your significant other.
With sudden resolve, you push yourself up from the tangled sheets, the cool air sending a shiver down your spine, and head towards the bathroom. Turning on the water, you let your thoughts drown in the hot water. Making your way back to your room, you slowly dry off and change into pajamas.
As your head hits the pillow, a sense of calm envelops you, pulling you into a deep slumber. The world outside fades, and for the first time in ages, you allow yourself to drift away, hoping that tomorrow will bring a spark of connection back into your life.
———
The first rays of sunlight filtered through the blinds, casting soft stripes across your home office. You’re working from home today, since Hongjoong isn’t in office on the weekends. You sat your desk with a steaming cup of coffee cradled in your hands, you let the aroma fill your senses, the rich, dark liquid fueling your focus as your fingers typing across the keyboard.
The rhythmic sound of your typing created a serene atmosphere until it was interrupted by a sharp buzz from the apartment door.
Setting your coffee down, you pushed back your chair and stood, feeling a strange mix of anticipation and dread as you approached the door. Taking a deep breath, you swung it open, and your heart dropped. Standing there, looking both sheepish and regretful, was Siwoo, clutching a bouquet of flowers.
“Y/N, honey, I’m so sorry for flaking out on you so many times,” he said with a fake pout.
A year ago, you would have melted at this display. You might have accepted his half-assed apology with a smile, the flowers a token of his remorse. But today, your mind raced with reminders of all the times he had done this before. The constant stand-ups, the empty promises, the fleeting moments of connection overshadowed by disappointment.
Your heart ached, not with the sweet pang of love but with the heavy weight of frustration. You stood there, staring at him, emotions swirling within you like a storm. Hurt and upset battled against the tenderness that still lingered for him. You could feel the walls you had carefully built in the past months tightening around you, whispering that this was a cycle you were tired of repeating.
But your heart, foolishly hopeful, betrayed you. Before you could think it through, you found yourself reaching for the bouquet, inhaling the sweet scent of fresh blooms. Then, without a second thought, you pulled him into a tight embrace. As his arms wrapped around you, the familiar warmth flooded back, and you felt your resolve waver.
In that moment, you wanted to believe that this time would be different. Yet beneath the surface, a deeper ache throbbed—a desperate question lingered in your mind: why do you keep doing this to me?
As the hours unfolded, Siwoo settled into a chair across from your desk, his laptop open and papers scattered around him. The familiar hum of shared work surrounded you, a scene that once brought you joy. He would glance up occasionally, flashing you a smile that was meant to soothe the tension in the air. Yet, despite the comforting proximity, your heart was locked in a battle against the memories of hurt he had inflicted upon you.
You tried to push those thoughts aside, forcing yourself to focus on the tasks at hand. Still, they lingered like unwelcome shadows, flitting in and out of your consciousness. Each time Siwoo laughed at something on his screen or leaned back with a satisfied sigh, a part of you wanted to bask in the moment, to let yourself feel the happiness he once brought. But the other part—a weary, wiser part—reminded you of the countless times he had let you down.
Your mind already flooded with so many issues, decided to remind you of last night’s conversation with Hongjoong—the way he spoke to you, his touch… The longing for deeper connections hung heavily on your mind, teasing you with confusion.
You caught Siwoo watching you, a flicker of concern crossing his face. “Hey, you okay?” he asked, his voice breaking through your reverie.
You forced a smile, nodding slightly. “Yeah, just thinking about work.”
———
Throughout the day, with Siwoo at your side, a disquieting realization settled in your chest: you felt less like his girlfriend and more like a maid. He moved to lounge in your living room, casually asking for snacks and drinks while you sat at your desk, trying to concentrate on your work. Each request chipped away at your patience, drawing a line between the intimate moments you once cherished and the mundane reality of this interaction.
Glancing over, you caught sight of him: relaxed, almost carefree, tapping away on his phone with a soft laugh escaping his lips. Maybe it was Hongjoong’s words playing tricks on you, but a knot twisted in your stomach as you watched Siwoo, feeling an unfamiliar ick wash over you. It felt as though he was taking advantage of your hospitality, oblivious to the growing frustration bubbling within you.
“Oh, Y/N, can I borrow some money?” Siwoo asked, his voice casual, his eyes glued to the screen as he continued to chuckle at whatever amused him.
“May I ask why?” You replied softly, a frown creasing your brow as confusion settled in.
“I need to buy new materials for work. It’s required for all professors, and I’m just short by a few bucks,” he explained, his gaze still firmly fixed on his phone.
You raised an eyebrow, skepticism creeping in. “Doesn’t the university cover materials for professors?”
“Mmm, not this time. Please?” he said, finally looking up at you, his irritating smile brightening his face as if he expected you to fold under the charm.
Taking a deep breath, you felt the tension in your chest tighten, but you nodded anyway, wiring him a sum that was likely more than he needed. Maybe it was an act of guilt or an old habit of wanting to keep the peace.
“Thanks, honey. You’re the best!” he said, standing up and slinging his bag over his shoulder. The grin on his face widened as he returned to his phone, engrossed once more in whatever had captured his attention.
“Y—you’re leaving so soon?” The words spilled out before you could stop them, a mix of desperation and disappointment. “I’m almost done with work. Let’s have dinner…”
He turned to you, his expression unchanged. “Maybe another day, Y/N. I have to head back to the campus.”
With that, he walked out without a backward glance, leaving you standing there, a swirl of emotions crashing against one another. As the door clicked shut, the weight of his absence pressed heavily on your heart, mingling with the irritation that had been building all day.
——
The weekend slipped away in a blur, its fleeting hours vanishing like sand through fingers. As you stepped into the office on Monday morning, you glanced around the workspace, filled with the scent of fresh coffee and the faint rustle of papers, and realized you wanted to be here. The thought of Hongjoong entered your mind unbidden. You couldn’t help but remember the conversations that had left you feeling confused but wanting more.
But you quickly pushed those thoughts aside, chastising yourself. This wasn’t the time for daydreams. You were his secretary, bound by professional decorum. It was crucial to maintain composure, to focus on your tasks and responsibilities. After all, any semblance of personal feelings could only complicate matters.
“Good morning, Mr. Kim,” you said, bowing slightly from your desk as he entered his office, and you follow behind him. The air felt charged with unspoken tension, a remnant of the incident that had unfolded just days prior, a moment you both seemed to ignore.
“Good morning, Miss Y/N,” Hongjoong replied, a hint of a smile playing on his lips as he settled into his chair behind the desk. His eyes flickered momentarily to the iced Americano you had picked up for him earlier, the cool condensation glistening against the glass.
“What is the schedule for today?” he asked, leaning back in his chair, his posture relaxed, but you could sense the sharpness in his gaze as it remained fixed on you.
Clearing your throat, you began to relay the day’s itinerary, focusing intently on your notes. “We have the marketing meeting at ten, followed by the conference call with the investors at noon.” You spoke steadily, but your heart raced, memories of that night creeping back into your mind—a fleeting brush of his hands, the way his gaze had pierced through the façade of professionalism.
Hongjoong listened, nodding occasionally, but there was an air of distraction about him, too. He was acting as if nothing had happened, and you were determined to do the same, though it felt like walking a tightrope. You maintained your composure, forcing yourself to keep your voice steady and professional as you continued.
His expression remained neutral, but there was an undercurrent of something unspoken between you. You stole a glance at him, noting how the light caught the edges of his features, the way he effortlessly commanded the space around him.
“And finally,” you added, pushing the memories further down, “we have a team meeting at four to discuss the new project timeline.”
As you finished, a heavy silence settled in the room, punctuated only by the soft sound of his drink being set down on the desk. You met his gaze, feeling the weight of the unacknowledged moment hanging in the air. “Thank you, Y/N,” Hongjoong said, his voice smooth as he rose from his chair. The brief moment of gratitude hung in the air between you, creating a small, intimate space in an otherwise professional atmosphere. You bowed slightly in acknowledgment, the familiar gesture a part of your daily routine, before you turned on your heels, ready to leave the room.
“Wait a moment,” he called out just as you reached the door. You paused, your heart skipping a beat, then turned back to face him.
“Yes, sir?” you replied, your voice steady but your mind racing.
“How are you doing?” he asked, the question casual yet layered with an unexpected warmth. The simplicity of it took you aback, a small flicker of surprise igniting within you.
“I—I’m well, sir. Thank you for asking.” You stumbled over your words slightly, an involuntary shyness creeping in. “How about you?” You returned the question out of politeness.
“That’s good to hear, Y/N,” he replied, his soft smile breaking through the formalities and lighting up the room. “I’m doing fine as well.”
You nodded, the warmth of his expression lingering in the air as you took in the moment. “I’ll get back to my work then,” you said, turning once more to leave.
As you stepped out of his office, the door closing softly behind you, you made your way back to your desk, the echo of his words and that fleeting smile still resonating within you.
——
Once you stepped out of Hongjoong’s office, he sank back into his chair, the weight of the world settling on his shoulders as his thoughts turned inward, swirling around you. He couldn’t deny the fondness he felt. From the moment you had started working as his secretary, you had made it clear that you were in a serious relationship. He respected your loyalty, admired it even, but it didn’t erase the growing complexity of his own feelings for you.
As he gazed out the window, memories flooded back, particularly the recent lunch meeting on Friday. You had accompanied him at the last minute, and during the drive, when you admitted to him about your relationship struggles. The admission struck him deeply—he felt a flicker of triumph at your honesty, a selfish part of him celebrating. Yet, mingled with that spark was a simmering anger; the man you were with was clearly causing you distress.
After returning to the office, you took your promised hour break, and Hongjoong found himself drawn to the rooftop. He hadn’t intended to pry; he simply wanted to offer words of encouragement, to lift your spirits. But as he approached, he overheard your phone ring and the familiar cadence of your voice pick up the call. A sinking feeling took root in his stomach when he recognized the voice on the other end—Siwoo, your boyfriend.
He paused at the steel door, unable to resist the urge to listen. Siwoo’s breathless tone was unmistakable, the hurried speech revealing more than mere exertion from a workout. Hongjoong's heart raced as he deduced the truth— Any man would know, this was not the voice of a faithful partner. The realization struck him like a punch; this man had the audacity to take your call while clearly entangled in something inappropriate.
A rush of guilt washed over him as he retreated to his office, grappling with the anger that grew beneath the surface. How could someone hurt you, an innocent, kind, and beautiful person? He felt torn, wanting to protect you while recognizing the boundaries he had vowed to uphold.
In the hours that followed, a storm of thoughts brewed within him. It was reckless, perhaps, but the idea of bringing you into his office after hours began to take root. He wanted to voice his concerns casually. But when you began to softly cry, that’s when he felt the line blur. The sight of your flushed cheeks, your pretty doe-like eyes glistening with unshed tears— (fuck, he shouldn’t be thinking like that).
Hongjoong pulled back from his reminiscent thoughts, deciding it was best to let you navigate this situation on your own. Maybe you would uncover the truth about Siwoo, perhaps the pieces would fall into place. But the uncertainty gnawed at him, and as he sat in his office, he couldn’t help but wonder how much longer he could contain his feelings, how much longer he could remain a silent observer to your heartache.
Fuck it? Hongjoong thought to himself. Siwoo deserves a taste of his own medicine.
Hongjoong scoffed to himself at his idea as he sipped on his coffee.
———
The workday unfolded in its usual rhythm, a blur of emails, calls, and the occasional paperwork that seemed to multiply by the hour. You navigated through the tasks with a practiced efficiency, though your mind occasionally drifted to the flurry of messages buzzing on your phone. Each notification from Siwoo felt like a weight pressing down on you, filled with meaningless apologies, and pleads to wire money for some other things, god knows what he needed it for.
With a deep breath, you made the decision to ignore his messages for now. You turned your focus back to your work, fingers typing over the keyboard, pouring your energy into the tasks at hand.
As you typed, the sound of footsteps drew your attention. You looked up to find Hongjoong standing before your desk, his presence commanding yet familiar. He had a way of drawing you in, and for a moment, the chaos of your personal life faded into the background.
“Miss Y/N, please come to my office after work hours,” he said, his tone smooth yet imbued with a seriousness that piqued your curiosity. He turned and strode into his office, leaving you with a flurry of thoughts.
“Yes, sir,” you replied softly, your voice barely above a whisper as you watched him go.
With a sigh, you returned to your work, the clock ticking steadily toward the end of the day. Each keystroke felt heavier as the minutes dragged on, and the anticipation of your meeting with Hongjoong lingered like a sweet ache in your heart.
———
As the final colleagues trickled out of the building, the quiet hum of the office began to settle into an echo of solitude. You sighed as you recalled Hongjoong’s instructions. Straightening your buttoned blouse and smoothing down your skirt, you prepared yourself for whatever awaited you in his office.
You knocked softly, the sound barely breaking the silence.
“Come in,” Hongjoong’s voice resonated through the door. You opened it slowly and stepped inside, closing it behind you with a soft click.
Hongjoong was seated at his desk, his white dress shirt sleeves rolled up, revealing strong forearms accentuated by a dark tie. The sight of him brought a swirl of emotions; he exuded an effortless charisma that both intimidated and drew you in.
“You wanted to see me, sir?” you said, your gaze fixed on the floor, an attempt to hide the mix of anxiety and curiosity swelling inside you.
“Yes, please come here, Y/N,” he replied, his voice calm and low. As you approached him, the familiar sound of your heels clicking against the polished floor echoed in your mind, reminding you of the similar situation a few days ago in this very spot.
“Please, sit,” he gestured toward the chair in front of his desk. You took a seat, positioning yourself at the edge, an instinctive reaction born from uncertainty.
Hongjoong rose from his chair and began to circle around the desk, a pen spinning effortlessly between his slender fingers. The movement was fluid, almost hypnotic, and it pulled your attention as you tried to read his expression.
“Miss Y/N,” he began, pausing for a moment, “you’re one of my smartest employees, correct?” His gaze remained focused elsewhere, a slight distance in his eyes.
“Th—thank you, sir. I—” you started, but his voice cut through your response.
“A person with an important job like yours requires a lot of skill, attentiveness… and have the ability assess the environment around the office, Correct?”
“Yes… that is correct, sir,” you replied quietly, maintaining eye contact,
“Would you agree that you have been lacking some of these skills, Y/N?” Hongjoong stopped infront of you, sitting at the edge of his desk. His arms crossed over his chest, revealing the strong veins that ran along his forearms, an unconscious display of his physicality that made your heart race.
“I—I haven’t noticed, sir. I apologize if I haven’t been performing well…” The words tumbled out, anxiety creeping in. Were you about to get fired? The thought sent a chill through you, and you mentally recoiled at the prospect of your life spiraling further down.
“I’m not going to fire you, Y/N,” he said, and your eyes widened in surprise; it was as if he had plucked the thought straight from your mind.
“I’m not really following this conversation, sir…” you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper as you began to fidget with your fingers in your lap, seeking any distraction from the mounting tension.
Hongjoong released a frustrated sigh, and suddenly he pushed himself off the edge of the desk, stepping toward you slowly. His strong arms landed on the armrests of your chair, effectively trapping you in place. He leaned in closer, the proximity forcing you to lean back into the seat, a gasp escaping your lips at the sudden intimacy of the moment.
The air between you thickened. You could feel the heat radiating from him, the sharpness of his gaze holding you captive.
He scoffed, the corner of his lip turning into a smirk as he looked down. His eyes landed on the unbuttoned opening of your shirt. He sees your chest breathing up and down in anticipation. He looks up, gazes at your lips quickly before looking into your eyes.
“For someone so pretty and smart, you’re quite naive” He chuckles. A rush of heat seeps into your cheeks. You’re at a loss for words. You don’t know how to respond, so you opt to stay silent.
“Miss Y/N” Hongjoong says sternly in a soft voice.
“Yes, Sir?” You quietly reply back.
“Can you assess the environment in this office right now?” His voice is a whisper.
“U—Uhm…” you stutter, not knowing what to say. Hongjoong chuckles at your flustered expression.
“Let me give you a hint, Y/N” Hongjoong whispers and leans in closer, his presence enveloping you like a warm wave. Then, in a moment that felt both thrilling and terrifying, his lips brushed against yours. Your eyes widened in shock. This is wrong, a voice in your mind screamed. You shouldn’t be doing this. But as much as you tried to summon the strength to pull away, your body betrayed you.
His lips were soft, warm, and surprisingly gentle as they molded against yours, igniting a fire that swept through you. The worries around you faded, leaving only the two of you suspended in this unexpected moment. It felt as if time had stopped, your heartbeat loud in your ears, drowning out the rational thoughts that screamed for you to stop.
As he finally pulled away, the distance felt electric, charged with a lingering intimacy. His gaze searched yours, earnest and intense. “Do you understand now?” he murmured, his breath warm against your skin. You nod slowly.
“Do you want me to stop?” He asks softly as he looks at your plush lips. You hesitate, unsure of what to say. All you know is that you want whatever lingering feelings Hongjoong has bestowed on you. As much as you know it’s wrong, you can’t help but crave him.
In response to his question, You shake your head in protest. His thumb caresses your chin tilting your head to look up at him.
“Use your words baby.” Hongjoong’s voice is low as he stares into your eyes, searching for an answer.
“Please… don’t stop sir.” You say quietly. Hongjoong smirks and pulls way from you. You look at him confused. His position is sat back onto the edge of his desk.
“Show me you want it too Y/N” He’s teasing you. Wanting to see how far you’re willing to go. Knowing that deep inside, as much as you want this you still feel a tiny ounce of guilt from being unfaithful to your partner. Regardless, You rise from the chair and make your way to Hongjoong. You position yourself between his legs that are slightly spread and place both your arms on his shoulders. You lean forward and kiss him. Hongjoong returns the kiss almost immediately. He can feel himself already growing hard as his lips move against yours. His hands are securely gripped onto your waist bringing you closer to him. He deepens the kiss and swipes his tongue over the bottom of your lip. In response your mouth opens as you release a whimper. Both of your tongues now move together skillfully, resulting in a moan from both of you. As the heated make-out session continues, you notice Hongjoong’s arm pushing away some papers and other items on the desk behind him.
Smoothly, Hongjoong moves your position, his strong arms swiftly carry your body onto the desk. You are now sat on top of the cold wood, arms wrapped around his neck, as he continued to devour your lips. You slightly pull back in attempt to catch your breath. You’re a panting mess, and so is he. Hongjoong however doesn’t want to stop. He pecks your lips, before leaving a trail kisses from the corner of your mouth, to your soft cheek, and finally to your slender neck. Shivers were sent throughout your body as Hongjoong left soft warm kisses on your neck.
“A—ah Sir…” you whimpered quietly. Hongjoong hummed in response as he began to leave opened mouth kisses on your skin.
Hongjoong pushed your legs apart, your skirt already slightly hiked up from him placing you on the desk moments ago. Revealing your exposed thighs, Hongjoong’s hands moved from knees, and traveled up your soft plush thighs, causing you to close them in an instinct, but his strong arms prevent you, keeping them open.
His lips trails up to your ear nibbles on your lobe before whispering softly, “I want you to say my name okay?” You nod in response.
His hands moved dangerously closer to your heat that was radiating from your exposed thighs, but he stops, he was teasing you. His hands caressed your inner thighs, not daring to move closer as he continued to kiss your neck and face. His lips found his way back to yours and takes it in softly.
You whimper against his mouth and he slowly pulls away.
“What’s wrong baby?” His voice is so soft, sending another heat wave down your body.
“Please… touch me, sir” you say sheepishly.
“I told you Y/N, I want you to say my name.” Hongjoong’s grip on your thighs tighten, causing you to whimper in pain and pleasure.
“H—Hongjoong…” your soft, angelic voice echoed in his ears as his name rolled off your tongue.
“Yeah baby?” He tries to hold back a groan, already so turned on by you calling his name.
“Hongjoong, touch me… please?” You plead with your doe eyes staring at him. Hongjoong bites his lip as he looks at your pretty, desperate face.
“Fuck, Y/N… you make me do stupid shit” He curses under his breath before devouring your lips once again.
This time, his hands finally touch your warm clothed pussy. You moan at his touch. His fingers slowly rub against your clit, creating a friction against the fabric of your underwear. Instinctively, you wrap your arms around his neck tighter. Moaning into his lips as he continues to rub you.
Unexpectedly, tears began to well up in the corner of your eyes. Not in pain, not in discomfort, but in a frustrating pleasure.
“Hong—j-joong, stop teasing please” You whimper as he slightly pulls away. He looks at your face, tears slowly falling down. He smirks, “Mm such a dirty brat, crying for me…” He degrades you in a low tone.
His hands find the hem of your underwear, and he skillfully pulls them down. They rest at the ankles of your legs, stopped by your heels that restricted them from falling to the floor. Hongjoong’s left arm cradles your back, as his right hand pushes up your skirt more to reveal your bare wet pussy.
“Fuck… so wet already just from me kissing you, and barely touching you?” He teases you, even though he too is already so rock hard in his slacks, from just kissing and touching you.
His hand makes his way to your clit. The soft bud of his middle and ring finger gently rubs circles, causing you to hold back a moan. Skillfully, his fingers dip down to your entrance, not fully going inside you, just enough to collect your wet fluids, and bring them back up to your clit. He rubs it again, slowly picking up the pace.
Your right hand drops behind you as it land on the desk, supporting your weight. You slightly throw your head back and cover your mouth with your unoccupied arm trying to hide your moans.
“Let me fucken hear you moan baby. No one is here. Just you and me” Hongjoong groans in your ear. His voice turned you on so much, resulting in a soft moan slipping from your lips.
Hongjoong’s fingers make their way to your entrance. Slipping in your tight folds. You gasp and grab onto his shoulder. He pumps his fingers slowly, as he studies your facial expressions. Your eyes are sparkling from the previous tears you shed. Your glossy lips slightly parted as you released soft moans.
“So fucken pretty” Hongjoong moans as he leans down to kiss your forehead. The gentle gesture, mixed with his lewd actions makes your stomach turn in a good way. He begins to pick up the pace. The office room is silent, with only the sounds of your mixed moans, pants, and the wetness of your folds fapping against Hongjoong’s hand.
Your mind begins to get fuzzy as you feel an orgasm near by. Hongjoong feels your pussy tighten around his digits, he chuckles before he slowly pulls his fingers out of you. You whine in protest, frustration builds up in you, you were so close. Your arm around his neck tugs him closer, reaching for his lips, wanting to feel some sort of physical contact. But he pulls away from you. Completely. He steps back and looks at your figure.
You furrow your eyebrows in confusion, an unsettling knot tightening in your stomach. Why did he stop? Just moments ago, the air had felt charged with lust, and now it hung heavy with an unspoken tension. A flood of negative thoughts surged through your mind, drowning out any remnants of clarity. Embarrassment crept in, a heat rising to your cheeks, making you feel exposed and vulnerable. Guilt wrapped around you like a heavy cloak, its weight almost suffocating. You could feel the sting of tears pooling in your eyes, the familiar ache of despair threatening to spill over. In a swift, instinctive motion, you cast your gaze downward, as if to shield yourself from the world around you. Your heart raced as quiet whimpers escaped your lips.
Hongjoong watches you as you softly cry. He tries not to loose his composure. The cute look of confusion on your face makes him feral.
“Aww baby… why are you crying hm?” Hongjoong’s voice is raspy. He tilts his head, trying to get a good look at your flushed face. You can’t find yourself to respond, only sniffles and soft whimpers can be heard.
“You know… to be completely honest Y/N…” the sound of Hongjoong’s belt unbuckling fills the air. You glance at him with your doe eyes.
“When I told you… I don’t want to see you cry anymore…” He slings his belt off his pants and drops it to the floor. His hands moving towards the button of his slacks. He shifts towards your body, and leans close to your face.
“I actually meant… I don’t want to see you cry for anyone else but me.” Your eyes widen at his statement. He chuckles at your expression and grabs your hands. He brings them towards his hard mound covered by the soft fabric of his pants.
“You look so fucken pretty when you cry. It turns me on so much. Knowing that you feel so good, you can’t help but shed a few tears” He moans as you begin to instinctively rub your hands on his huge hard on.
“Help me out baby. Be a good girl” Hongjoong whispers to you, and you nod. He smiles at your response. You make your way off the desk, and position yourself on your knees. You slowly unzip Hongjoong’s pants and pull them down along with his trousers. His hard, long cock springs out and softly hits your face. You gasp at the sudden sight. Earning a chuckle from him.
“Open your mouth.” He demands softly. Your lips part, tongue slightly sticking out, as you take Hongjoong’s length in. He releases a loud groan. Cursing under his breath as you begin to slowly bob your head up and down. You twirl your tongue a few times over his tip, causing him to tightly grip onto your soft hair.
“F—Fuck baby…” Hongjoong throws his head back.
“… damn, your boyfriend is this lucky and can’t even fucken appreciate you” You freeze at the sudden statement, and Hongjoong smirks as he scoffs. In response, he begins to thrust into your mouth slowly. You moan on his cock as he begins to shove himself deeper into your mouth. You tap Hongjoong’s leg, and he pulls you off him instantly. You gasp for air, a string of saliva connecting from your lip to his cock, as you begin to cough. Hongjoong chuckles, caressing your hair.
“Stand up” He demands. And in an instant you’re on your feet. Hongjoong swiftly lifts you up and places you back onto the desk. His hands are hastily unbuttoning your blouse as he kisses your lips. You moan, furrowing your brows, still thinking about the humiliating statement Hongjoong said. Something about his touch is so intoxicating, making you want more. Making you not care about anything in your reality.
As Hongjoong releases the last button on your blouse, he quickly pushes your shirt off, revealing your black lacy bra filled by your perfect plush breasts. His hands grace over your chest, sending shivers down your spine. He kisses the exposed skin of your breast. His hands moving towards the straps, as he pulls them off. He reaches behind you and skillfully releases the clasps of your bra. The black lace drops swiftly revealing your perfect boobs.
“So fucken perfect for me baby.” Hongjoong whispers as he gropes them with his hands. You moan at his touch. He takes one in his mouth and laps at your nipples, resulting in you throwing your head back in pleasure.
“H—Hongjoong” you moan his name, he hums in response, still working on your breasts.
“Want.. m—more” you stutter under his touch.
He pulls away from you and pants, trying to calm himself down.
“Want more what?” He cocks an eyebrow at you. You pout, too embarrassed to verbally say what you want from him.
“Tell me now, or I’ll leave you here” Hongjoong threatens as he begins to pump himself, already knowing what you want. But he still wants to hear the words from your mouth.
“I want… you inside me… please?” You whimper in embarrassment. You look at him and you see a spark of excitement in his eyes as he smirks at you.
“Atta girl. Wasn’t so hard to say right?” He teases you as he brings himself closer to your pussy. Your breath increases as he places his tip right at the entrance. He only inserts his head before pulling out, repeating the gesture a few times. You whine as a tear falls from your eyes.
“Quit being a fucken brat” Hongjoong hisses at you bringing a gentle hand to your face as he wipes the tear away. Finally, He pushes his whole length inside you, earning a loud yelp from you. His cock instantly hits your sensitive spot and you cling onto his arms. He pauses inside of you, letting you adjust to his size. You’re definitely not used to his large length and thick girth, he’s stretching you out so good.
“Damn baby, you’re so tight? Your boyfriend isn’t big enough huh?” Hongjoong snickers at you. You whine at the sudden mention of your boyfriend again. It’s like he wants to remind you of him on purpose. To humiliate you. Hongjoong begins a slow pace inside you. Grunting as he moves against you.
“Answer me…” he demands, his hand cups your chin to force your gaze on him.
“H—he isn’t big enough. Y—you’re bigger Hongjoong…” You moan as he thrusts deeper.
“You… make me feel s—so good” You close your eyes as you take in the pleasure running through your body. Hongjoong manically smiles. Ecstatic at your response.
“Yeah?” He teases. Picking up his pace. The sound of your sweet moans heighten, the wet sounds of you two slapping against each other fill the room along with Hongjoong’s dirty words.
“Bet you, he doesn’t fuck you this good huh? Look at you. A fucken mess on my cock.”
“N-no! He doesn’t.” You whine, another wave of tears begin to fall from your eyes. The overstimulation of Hongjoong pumping into you along with his degrading words overwhelms you. You don’t want to admit it, but you fucken love this. Your body is enjoying every fucken moment of this dirty, lewd affair.
“F-Fuucckk” Hongjoong moans loudly. “Look at me while you cry, baby. Let me see that pretty face” you listen to him without hesitation. Your eyes locking with his. You feel yourself closer to reaching your high. Until you’re both interrupted with a sudden ringing.
You both turn your heads to the chair you sat on when you first entered Hongjoong’s office. The sight of your bright phone screen illuminates the dim room.
*Siwoo <3 is Calling*
Your heart drops at the name. Anxiety suddenly filling your body, replacing the pleasure you felt before. Hongjoong notices and smirks at you. He reaches over and grabs your phone.
“Answer it.” He demands. You shake your head no.
“I said fucken answer it. Your boyfriend is waiting for you. Don’t be a fucken brat now. Do you want me to stop?” Hongjoong’s words are harsh. You instantly shake your head in protest of him stopping.
“Then fucken answer it” Hongjoong shoves the phone towards you.
You hesitate as you grab the phone from his hands and click the green button. You bring the phone to your ear, but Hongjoong pulls your wrist, and clicks on the speaker button. He cocks his head at you, signaling you to continue,
“H-Hello? Siwoo?” You begin. Hongjoong resumes his pace. Fucking you in and out.
“Hey Honey. What are you doing?” Siwoo’s voice is calm, in contrast to what you’re feeling right now.
“A-Ah.. I’m j-just finishing up some w-work” You stutter as you try to keep your composure. Hongjoong makes it harder for you as he begins to lick your neck.
“You’re still at work?” Siwoo questions.
“M—mm, Yeah. Don’t worry. I—I’ll be home soon” You bite your lip trying to contain a moan.
“You okay Y/N? why do you keep stuttering?” Siwoo’s voices a concern.
“I—i’m okay. I-I just don’t feel too well. I think it’s a stomach tic” You bluff, trying to find an excuse.
“You don’t feel well? Shall I come pick you up from work-?” Siwoo suggests
“No!” You cut him off. You curse to yourself. Hongjoong smiles against a your neck and softly bites it as he continues fucking you senseless.
“Oh- okay then. Just be careful. take some medicine” You roll your eyes. (why the fuck does Siwoo decide to be sweet right now out of all days?) You mentally say to yourself.
“Y-yes I will…” You reply softly.
“Anyways, did you see my text? can you wire me some money?” Siwoo asks nonchalantly. You scoff, earning a vocalized chuckle from Hongjoong. Your eyes widen as you pull him closer to your neck, trying to muffle his laughter. You bite your lip, in hopes Siwoo didn’t hear anything.
“S—sorry, Siwoo. I don’t get paid till this Friday.” you manage to get out.
“Aww please? just a few bucks” Siwoo whines. In annoyance, you roll your eyes once again.
“Siwoo, I—I can’t. I have to go” You quickly hang up the call and throw your phone down. Hongjoong detaches from your neck and chuckles before attacking your lips. His pace begins to pick up. He holds onto your waist for support and you hold him closer. Hongjoong pulls away from your lips and rests his forehead against yours.
“Does he take care of you? or do you take care of him?” He teases as he tries to hold back a laugh.
“S—Shut up” You moan in response. Hongjoong thrusts hard into you, earning a loud yelp from you.
“Someone’s suddenly mouthy?” Hongjoong’s hand grips onto your chin as he lightly taps your cheek.
“F—Fuck” You moan as he shoves himself inside you, with long and deep strokes.
Hongjoong then suddenly pulls out of you. Not wanting to waste any time, he lifts you off the desk and flips you over. Your front is pushed onto the cold wood, and he pulls your hips higher. Your forearms hoist yourself for support as you feel Hongjoong enter you once again. His hands grip under your skirt pushing them up towards your waist, giving him a perfect view of your ass. He mentally curses to himself as he watches your butt bounce on his cock at a constant pace. He brings his hand down to caress it before raising it and bringing it back down in a hard, but pleasurable slap. You yelp in response, eyes widen at the sudden contact.
“Such a fucken naughty girl. Fucking your boss, when you have a boyfriend” Hongjoong degrades you as his hand makes contact with your ass again. You whimper at the stinging sensation. Your tears fall onto the papers infront of you.
“Who fucks you better baby?” Hongjoong pants as his speed increases. “Me or Siwoo? Hm?” He asks again taking you in deeper.
“A—Ahhhh~ You, Hongjoong.” You sniffle your tears , “Hongjoong fucks me better!” You scream as his pace becomes sloppy. Hongjoong hears your crying whimpers and quickly turns you around to face him. Your body now lays flat on his desk as he pumps into you.
“Yeah? bet I can be better lover than him too” Hongjoong confesses as he smashes his lips onto yours. Your heart clenches at his statement. A sudden wave of orgasm hits you. Your pussy tightens around him as you come undone. Your arms wrapped around his neck as you release a loud moan. Your face buried in his chest, as he continues to fuck you and chase his high. Hongjoong’s thrust become sloppy, and quickly pulls out of you.
“Let me cum on your pretty face” He hastily demands. You quickly move towards his lower body and he pumps himself quickly on you. Hongjoong looks at your sparkly doe eyes, and bites his lips. His warm thick load releases into your face, along with a loud grunt from his mouth. You gasp as the feeling of the strings of cum landing on your soft skin. Your mouth instinctively opens,
“F—Fuckkk baby” Hongjoong hisses as he continues to pump more of his load onto your tongue.
The office room is filled with the sounds of you and Hongjoong panting, trying to catch your breath. The room reeks of sex. Your eyes are still locked on his. His white cum painted on your face and mouth. Without any other choice, you close your mouth and swallow his bittersweet cum.
“Fuck” Hongjoong whispers under his breath. He caresses your hair and reaches over his desk to grab a few tissue papers. Hongjoong wipes your face gently and kisses your forehead.
"Let me clean you up down there,"
Hongjoong whispered, his voice a soft, intimate murmur that seemed to linger in
the air between you. The earlier intensity of steamy sex had left a palpable tension, but now, a gentle calm enveloped the room. His eyes, once aflame with desire, were now filled with a warmth that reassured you, reminding you of the caring side he often showed.
After the whirlwind of passion, Hongjoong's demeanor had transformed completely. The fire that had ignited between you both settled into a tender glow as he moved closer, his presence both comforting and protective. With a steady hand, he reached for another tissue, his fingers brushing your skin lightly as he began to clean you up. The touch was careful and deliberate, as if he were trying to convey his affection through each gentle motion.
You felt a mix of vulnerability and warmth wash over you, grateful for the way he approached this moment. It was as though he understood the importance of transitioning from the intensity of physical connection to something more nurturing and intimate. You appreciated how he took his time, ensuring that you felt cared for, both emotionally and physically. As you two began to help each other back into your clothing, you couldn’t ignore the lingering feelings.
“I’ll take you home” Hongjoong smiles gently at you and brushes a strand of your hair out of your face. You nod and follow behind him out of his office. As he approached your desk, Hongjoong gathered your bags. You instinctively reached out to grab them, but he gently shook his head, a soft smile playing on his lips.
“Let me handle this,” he said, his voice warm and reassuring. With that, he took the lead, guiding you toward his car.
As you followed behind, your legs felt wobbly, you could sense him glancing back occasionally, ensuring you were still keeping up.
At the car, he paused, opening the passenger door, gesturing for you to get in. You slid into the seat. He placed your bags in the back with care, then turned to you, his demeanor softening as he reached for his spare coat. With a fluid motion, he draped it over your shoulders, its warmth enveloping you like a comforting hug.
“Hongjoong—” you started, the silence stretching between you, but he raised a hand to quiet you.
“Shh, it’s okay, Y/N. You don’t have to say anything. Just rest,” he said gently. He leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead.
The drive home was silent. The hum of the engine a lullaby in the stillness of the night. You fought to keep your eyes open, fatigue clawing at you, but each passing moment, tried to invite you to surrender to the drowsiness. Suddenly, the car came to a stop, signaling at you from your drowsy haze. You turned to look at Hongjoong, who was already gazing at you.
“Y/N…” Hongjoong’s voice was barely above a whisper, yet it carried an undeniable weight. “I meant what I said when I told you I can be a better lover than Siwoo.” The sincerity in his tone sent a shiver down your spine. “He doesn’t treat you well. You deserve someone who truly values you.” His eyes held a raw intensity as he continued, “I don’t think I can go on without you knowing that I’ve always wanted you for myself.”
His sudden confession took you by surprise, leaving you momentarily speechless. The air around you felt charged, and you could hardly process the emotions swirling within you.
“Let me prove to you that I will love you better. Please, Y/N,” he urged, his gaze earnest and imploring. The vulnerability he displayed was a stark contrast to what he portrayed in the office just moments ago. This was a side of him that revealed his deep feelings, and it struck a chord within you.
Your heart raced as you absorbed his words, the truth of them resonating deep inside. You had long felt the magnetic pull toward him, the warmth in his presence that made you feel seen in a way Siwoo never had. You realized in that moment that you, too, wanted to love him—fully and unreservedly.
Compelled by a rush of emotion, you leaned in closer, the space between you evaporating. Your lips met his in a tender kiss, a hesitant exploration that quickly deepened as he responded. His hands found their way to your face, cradling it gently as he pulled you in, his touch igniting a warmth that spread through your entire being.
“Fuck- if you kiss me like that I might take you right here again” Hongjoong chuckles against your lips. And you giggle in response. However, his expression falls down.
“Y/N… I should tell you that Siwoo has been cheating on you.” Hongjoong sighs as he rests his forehead against yours.
“Who’s Siwoo?” You joke trying to mask your disappointment of him mentioning your now ex. “Y/N, I know I initiated an affair while you are dating him too but, you needed to know.” Hongjoong states in a serious tone.
“I know, Hongjoong.” You say softly. “I figured after our conversation we had on Friday, when he came over to my house the next day. I guess my naive self chose to ignore it… I messaged him earlier when we got to the car that I’m over with him. I’m no longer his.” You look at Hongjoong as he studies your face.
“So… does this mean you’re mine?” Hongjoong raises an eyebrow. You softly smile and shrug your shoulders. Hongjoong smirks at you and in an instant unbuckles his seat belt and exits the car. He makes his way to the passenger door and opens it. Swiftly, he lifts your body and throws you over his shoulder. You yelp in response and he carries you towards his house.
“You drove us to your house?!” You exclaim as you giggle over his shoulder.
“Let me remind you again who you really belong to” Hongjoong chuckles as he playfully slaps your ass and quickly makes his way through the doors of his home.
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Pt. 2 (updated 10/21)
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Author’s commentary: Should I do a sequel? 👀. I had way more ideas for this story but decided to cut it short LOLLL. Anyways, I hope yall enjoy😝 feel free to fangirl in my comment section/ ask box🤭.
