#office au? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

textmel8r · 5 months ago

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[ DRABBLE ] 𝐎𝐅𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐄 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒 ! ( ninth installment ) in which you are forced to plan a corporate event with your office enemy .

୨୧˚ part; one. two. three. four. five. six. seven. eight. nine. ten. eleven.

୨୧˚ incl; kento nanami

୨୧˚ cw; profanity , alcohol consumption , inebriation , sexual harassment , violence , vomit

୨୧˚ an; i love nami kempo (dis shit like 4k werdssss) ALSO i’ve been getting comments that my tag list isn’t working for me dumb someone help me pls tell me what im doing wrong

୨୧˚ join my discord server ! we share headcanons, fanfic recs, color roles, and more drooling emoji

“Why am I here?” Nanami thinks out loud, glaring pointedly around the unlit dive bar. It’s unglamorous, walls garbed in eclectic music paraphernalia, references that go right past him. Flurries of reds and yellows and oranges in the decor cut brightly, shining through the dim atmosphere. Seriously, would it kill them to switch a light on? It bustles with life; university kids, Nanami is subjected to think based on the… unique fashion sense present in the room. Street wear, torn jeans, crop tops way too short to be considered shirts anymore. He cringes, feeling entirely too dated to be hanging amongst this kind of crowd. His leg bounces restlessly under the ledge of the bar, and he turns to look at you. “Why are we here?”

You’re smiling—actually smiling—flagging down the bartender. “You knew we were coming to a bar,” you cut yourself short, holding up a single finger to him whilst you relayed your order to the older gentleman behind the bar. A rum and coke, you asked politely before glancing toward Nanami. It took a moment for him to realize what that look meant.

“I’ll have scotch, neat. Thanks.”

“As I was saying,” you steal back his attention, “I made it clear we were coming to a bar. What’s the problem?”

There was a hint of an attitude catching at your words, and Nanami felt his brow twitch in frustration. “You failed to tell me that we’d be in…” He grimaces, peeking back over his shoulder to the sea of youthful patrons slinging over nearly every stool and booth. “ . . . Mixed company.” God awful pop music fizzles through the speakers, twisting and crackling with pops of static; fuel to the billowing flames of Nanami’s overstimulation. “I was expecting something a bit more sophisticated.”

“I can tell,” you’re laughing as you give him a once over, and he gets a shiver of Deja Vu from the coffee shop where you pulled the same exact move. You tweeze at the expensive cotton button down, plucking the bunched fabric of a sleeve at the crease of his elbow. “Thought we said no more fancy clothes?”

Tonight he threw together a plain white shirt and a pair of slim fit khaki pants; the quintessential dad outfit, sure, but fancy? Nanami didn’t think so. “I’m dressed down.”

“Nixing the suit jacket and tie didn’t do much. You still look stiff, man.” Two glasses are brought over, one placed before either of you respectively. Nanami stares down into the glass, a foggy, brown abyss. His alcohol looks watered down and piss cheap. “You stick out, it’s kind of embarrassing.”

“Oh please, you’re too kind.” Nanami rolls his eyes, hunching over the bar and downing a swig from the scotch. Yeah, It was definitely watered down. Fuck this place.

Your hand slaps his back. “So dramatic. I was kidding Nanami, you look fine.” A cheeky laugh reaches his ears before you tack on, “very handsome.”

Now he knows you’re messing with him.

You grin into your cup. “Stop sulking. It’s not so bad here.” Nanami would beg to differ. A debate that isn’t worth having because frankly, it’s a Saturday night and he doesn’t have nearly enough energy to draft a list of all the cons that this joint has to offer. “We got booze,” you raise your glass. “Booze makes everything better.”

His forehead wrinkles. “That’s a horrible mindset to have, Y/n.”

Your boisterous laugh outweighs the ambient chatter, and you take a hearty gulp. Nanami follows suit, albeit a bit awkwardly, tipping more spirits down his throat. You look surprisingly comfortable, slinking against the bar counter with a hazy smile that welcomes strangers in. This time, you weren’t wearing a flowery dress; instead, a low cut shirt and jeans, both equal parts dark and tight. The neckline plummeted deep, exposing slivers of your bra cups and entirely too much cleavage. By God, was his self restraint something to write home about.

It was easy to fall into comfortable conversation. All in all, Nanami enjoys talking to you now, even if once upon a time the thought of engaging with you evoked such dread that he’d outwardly avoid your presence around the office. Passing along orders specifically meant for you to other colleagues and entrusting them to deliver the message, lengthening the conveyor belt of relation simply because you got him in a tizzy. Back then, all Nanami could see when he looked at you was that cowardly girl in the bathroom with smeared lipstick and a trembling pout. How shameful, he thinks, that it took him this long to see past that terrible first impression.

“So there I was, balancing ten cups of coffee, shaking like a little bitch,” you laughed as you shared an anecdote from an internship in your university years. Nanami listened intently, head propped up on his fist as he watched your theatrics. Your cheeks flushed with the evidence of alcohol, eyes lidded, smile wobbly. Nanami was feeling the edge of his buzz coming on too, an amazing revelation considering the diluted alcohol this place served. “And I’m walking up ten flights of stairs–”

“Ten flights?” He gawks, feeling looser and matching you with melodrama. “What, did your office not have an elevator?”

You laughed. “It was out of order.”

“Your luck astounds me.”

You flip him off playfully. “I finally get to the last stair and my heel catches on the floor and I eat total shit in front of the entire room!” Nanami can’t stop his own tittering, cupping a palm over his grin. “Spilled the coffee everywhere, twisted my ankle, too. I probably laid in that puddle for ten minutes.”

“That’s why you don’t wear high heels anymore?”

There’s a grimace on your face when you nod, topping off the rest of your glass. “Mm.”

Nanami swaps his own story, of a time when he was in his third year of college and his work laptop got stolen. “I think I cried,” and you guffawed at his misery. “I’m serious, I really think I cried. Alone, on the floor of my dormitory. It was finals week, and I had written my dissertation on that laptop.”

“So what did you do?”

“I pulled an all-nighter in the library on campus and rewrote my entire thesis.” Merely remembering that chaotically stressful night had Nanami huffing a sigh of anguish and dragging an exasperated hand down his face.

The bartender slides you another drink. Gosh, he was lagging behind. “I would’ve dropped out.” You spoke over the rim of the glass.

“Trust me, I was really close.” Nanami’s eyes narrow, gaging the swell of your throat as you knock back a few swigs. “How many have you had?”

“A few.” Your answer was blunt, and from that Nanami could gather that his question had rendered you the slightest bit irritated. He understood why; you were a grown woman, who was he to regulate how many rounds you decide to have? But even with this understanding, the man couldn’t shake his concern. “More than you, old timer. Keep up.”

He shakes his head, scratching at his cheek. “This is my last for the night.” Any more, and Nanami would wake up the next morning nauseous with a pounding headache. He took precautions to avoid breaching his limits, he really disliked that hungover feeling.

You gawk at the declaration. “How lame.” Then you hiccup.

“You can call me lame now, but which one of us will wake up tomorrow not in pain?”

You wave a hand through the air, brushing off his very astute observation. “Hush, that’s for future me to deal with. Present me doesn’t have a care in the world.”

You’re immature, but it’s amusing, so he doesn’t offer any rebuttals. The way you are so insistent on living in the moment is fascinating, almost inspiring even. Nanami feels as though he’s ever crushed by the impending future, always so concerned with what the next day, next week, next month, next year brings. He thinks ahead to a fault, and because of that, forgets to enjoy the little things. But you always stop and smell the roses. It’s admirable.

“Bartender!” You wag a finger in the air, slamming down your empty glass. Fiending for yet another drink.

Okay, maybe your ability to live in the now is to a fault as well. Nanami holds a hand up, signaling the barkeep to halt. “Sorry,” he apologizes politely, “she’s all good for now, thanks.” Ain’t that the truth. Your face looked tacky with sweat, pupils scarily dilated. Your words come out dimly slurred, and your gestures uncoordinated. As your business associate, he feels obligated to intervene at this point.

A hand slaps his down. Your hand. “Hey what gives?” You’re upset with him. “Just because you’re done doesn’t mean I am.”

“You’re three sips away from throwing up on yourself,” Nanami deadpans, unphased by your drunken outburst. Unbeknownst to the two of you, another patron had taken up the stool opposite of you. To be expected; the bar was decently crowded, that being said neither of you paid much mind to the man. He was younger than Nanami for sure, his hair unkempt and shaggy, swept back by sweat and something that looked like grease. He was smiling, probably on some brand of dope that Nanami was unfamiliar with. The stranger interrupts, leaning over with his elbow planted on the countertop.

“You her father or some shit?” He speaks without any warning, catching both you and Nanami’s attention.

Father? Nanami internally grimaces, jaw tightening. Just how old does he think I am? Trying not to be offended by the inquiry, he corrects the man. “Just a concerned friend, that’s all.” You have yet to speak, still a tad caught off guard by the unexpected company.

The stranger’s grin widens, reaching shit-eating status. “Then hop the fuck off her case, man.” He shoots a pair of lidded, droopy eyes toward you, eyebrows jumping in a manner that is entirely too suggestive for Nanami’s liking. “If the lady wants another drink, then let her have another drink.”

Nanami feels the awkward tension thicken the air between this interaction. For all the shit you talked about getting hit on in bars, he would have never expected you to act so timid when put in a position like this. Nanami fully expected you to side with the latter party, to order another round of vodka-whatever and then leave with your newfound knight in shining armor. What actually happened: “No, er, my friend might be right actually,” followed by an incredibly strained chuckle. Your shoulders stiffen, Nanami can practically feel the way you harden up beside him. “I should probably take it easy.”

The man feigns grief. “Aw, c’mon. You seemed so eager before. Let me buy you another?”

“She just said—”

“I was talking to her, not you.”

Nanami was utterly shocked by the sheer gall this young man possessed. Was he trying to intimidate him? It was painfully ineffective. “I don’t want one,” you said with a little more oomph this time, fiercely hanging on the urge to defend Nanami. It made him feel strangely prideful.

The stranger’s smile never retreated, but something sinister glinted in the ocean of his dark eyes. He gave a sniff, brushing the point of his nose with the pad of his thumb before hurling yet another unwanted flirtation your way. “Baby, hey, what’s one more drink? I saw you from across the room, I’ve been dyin’ to chat you up.” Under the table, his hand slips into your personal space. Nanami sees it unfold in his peripherals; the pallor hand slithering over your lap, grabbing a handful of your denim-clad thigh. You yelped in surprise, wincing. Nanami saw it all.

He was not a violent man. In fact, he could count the number of times he’s thrown a punch in his life on one hand. Physical fights were pointless, a waste of time and energy because Nanami wholeheartedly believed that altercations were best settled with words. But the moment your nervous squeak found his ears, Nanami couldn’t control the urge to beat this guy’s face in. So that’s what he did; sliding out of his seat to round you and pull the stranger off his stool by the collar of his faux leather jacket. The material felt cheap and mingy, not something Nanami would ever be caught dead wearing. Without so much as a second thought, Nanami sends a heavy fist barreling into the meat of his cheek. One good, solid punch, and the sinewy gentleman was tumbling to the ground, walking the thin line between consciousness. “Shit…” Nanami breathes, chest heaving with barely concealed rage, knuckles throbbing to the beat of his racing heart. The bar went dead, too many pairs of eyes locked onto him to count, but the only ones he could care about were yours.

You looked at Nanami with such astonishment, with your eyes pried wide as dinner plates and your mouth ajar. He was ready for you to yell at him, to curse him for embarrassing you in a pub you frequented, but nothing came. Well, almost nothing.

“Security!” The bartender hollered thick and deep, slapping a damp rag onto the counter with a wet plap.

“Shit!” Nanami repeated, cuffing a hand around the thinnest part of your wrist, tugging you into his side as you both raced toward the exit. “Let’s go.”

You’re gurgling and grumbling, latching onto the material of his shirt as little bouts of complaining bubbled past your lips. “Not so fast!” and “Oh God, my stomach” and “I don’t feel good.” Nanami had been reduced to your crutch at this point; he bore the entirety of your weight without batting an eye because your own legs were too wobbly to do it yourself.

“I know,” he murmured, maneuvering through the crowd. “Hold it together, we’re almost there.”

The first step outside felt like entering Heaven. Nanami basked in the cleanliness of the chilly night air, gulping down a big breath of fresh oxygen that hadn’t been tainted by marijuana smoke. But suddenly, you’re detaching yourself from his hip and he’s bewildered by your sudden need for proximity. “Y/n—”

He turns to face you, only to be met with the crown of your head. Doubled over at the waist, hands on the lower fraction of your thighs, you vomit onto the dewy pavement… and his shoes. Nanami’s cursing once more, drawing closer despite how much you obviously don’t want him to. “Alright,” he coos in exasperation, gathering your hair into a bundle and holding it away from the splash zone. “It’s alright, get it out.”

“You’re… Did I just puke on y-your feet?” Your voice is croaky, something of a mixture of embarrassment and illness. You can’t even look at him.

“Stand up,” Nanami tells you. He’s unbending you, straightening your body upright with a hand pressing your back in from his bowed shape. “Can you look at me?”

You pout, childlike. “No.” You’re looking at his shoes, the toes slick with remnants of your stomach acid.

“They’re just shoes, I have a million pairs.” His head cocks to a tilt. “Would you look at me, please?”

You’re sighing, but looking up to him nonetheless. Gazing up with big, glossy eyes and wet lashes that clumped together through tears. Eyeliner diluted and cradling your undereyes in a dark embrace. You wipe your mouth with the back of a palm, smearing shimmery gloss out of the confines of your lip line. It’s all so nauseatingly familiar, this pitiful display. Nanami decides he hates seeing you like this.

“I’m sorry,” you chirp.

“Don’t apologize.”

“I’ll pay for them.”

Nanami puts a hand on your shoulder when he notices the slant in your posture. “Cut it out, that’s entirely unnecessary.” He looks around the parking lot, full of vehicles. They catch the glint from the yellowish street lamps. “Did you drive here?” He thinks it’s unlikely, seeing as you let yourself fall under such intoxication. You weren’t so irresponsible; if you drove here, you would’ve made sure you’d be able to drive home too, like he did.

You’re shaking your head. “Caught a train.”

Nanami nods, pleased. “Good. That’s good.” With all the grace and gentleness in the world, the man loops your limp arm back around his nape, securing you against his oblique with a sturdy arm snaked around your waist. Everything is ginger, lest he upset your stomach again. “Are you good to walk?”

“Yeah, I think I’m alright.”

“Then let me take you to my car.”

That pulls a frown from you. “You don’t need—need to drive me there, Nana’. The station—” Hiccup “It’s just down the road.”

The blonde glowers. “You can barely stand on your own, public transportation is out of the question.” Like Hell he’s going to let an obviously inebriated, attractive young woman such as yourself ride the subway alone. Please, don’t make him laugh. “I’m driving you home.”

“It’s out of your way.”

“I don’t care.”

It’s a slow race, but Nanami eventually hauls you to his car parked at the entrance of the lot. A midnight shade Maserati; he doesn’t miss the way you gawk at his luxurious ride. “If I had a car like this, I’d never leave it.” He laughs. You smack his bicep. “I’m not kidding, I’d sleep in this thing. She’s gorgeous.”

“She says thank you,” he huffs his response. Nanami leans you up against the side of his car, pinning you between its door and his thigh while he opens the passenger door. “Watch your head.” His hand curls around the roof’s ledge, a makeshift cushion to protect your skull as you duck into the car seat. Immediately, you’re slumping back into the comfortable leather interior, moaning out quiet mewls of exhaustion.

“Yeah, I’d definitely sleep in here.”

“Keep those eyes open.” The door swings shut, and Nanami makes haste when rounding the rear of his car to the driver’s side. He had barely toed the line of sobriety anyways, but knocking a stranger on his ass was definitely more than enough to woosh any semblance of haziness from his veins. Nanami wouldn’t think about driving—wouldn’t think about putting you or anyone else on the road in danger—if he felt even the slightest bit impaired by the scotch. Behind the wheel, the man leans across the center console to grab your seat’s safety belt, carefully dragging it over your chest and clipping it into the buckle. “I need your address first, then you can knock out.”

“My address…” You ponder, lips pursed and eyes blinking at a snail’s pace. Sleepiness prevails, and you fall in and out of slumber, head lolling and cheek mashed up against your shoulder.

Nanami carps, unappreciative of your inability to stay awake long enough for this much needed conversation. “Hey,” he bleats, patting the top of your thigh. “Come on, Y/n. I need to know where you live.”

You whine, rolling your eyes at his persistence. “The city.”

“You live in the city.” Nanami deadpans at the useless information you’ve just spared.

“Mm.” And then you’re drifting back to sleep.

Nanami pinches high on the bridge of his nose with a thumb and forefinger, over the permanent divets where his glasses have drilled into his skin. The contortment of his fingers sends another spike of pain over his bruising knuckles. “Wake up and give me a proper address.” He supposes his heated seats aren’t doing much to stave off your tiredness, so he presses his knuckle into the off button. You whine.

“I don’t remember, okay?”

That’s how you ended up at Nanami’s home, tucked under his lavish sheets in his bed that’s entirely too big for one person. Your outfit had been neatly folded and piled upon his dresser, exchanged for one of his tee shirts and a pair of sweatpants that were cinched at the waist. He helped you into his clothes—with your undivided consent, of course. A completely clinical and respectful process; Nanami looked elsewhere, acting as a handle for you to hold onto as you stepped into the oversized pants he held open for you. They were far too wide, falling off your hips, so he took the time to tie a precious, little bow with the drawstrings.

“Comfy?” He asks upon his return to the bedroom, holding a glass of tap water in one hand, a bottle of pills rattling in the other. You’re exactly where he left you; swimming in his bedsheets, the comforter hoisted up to your chest. Nanami sets the water down on the bedside table, then takes a seat on the edge of his mattress, working the bottle open.

“I’ve never been more comfortable,” you sigh blissfully, taking a deep inhale. “Your blankets smell good.”

The blonde can’t help his chuckle. “I’ll give you the name of the laundry detergent I use tomorrow.” With deft fingers, he plucks two small tablets, light pain medication, and sets the pair on the table next to your water glass.

“Promise?” Your tongue pokes out from between your teeth, playful. He chides an airy yes, snapping the tylenol bottle shut. Then, your smile fades; you’re averting your eyes, fixing them somewhere over to the blank canvas of Nanami’s gray, bedroom wall. “Hey, um…” He watched the side of your face, watches the flex of your jawline and the tension in your neck. “Did I—I didn’t really throw up on you, right?”

You rub at your temple, like you’re trying to find the memory but it’s just out of reach. “No,” he replies instantly, steadily, like it’s not a complete lie. Like his bile-ridden shoes aren’t sitting outside on his front door step, waiting to be cleaned. “You don’t remember?”

“It’s fuzzy,” you grumble, frustrated with yourself. “I had too much.”

Normal circumstances permitted, Nanami would’ve totally took this opportunity to have his I told you so moment. But you already looked upset, maybe a little bit sick still, so he bit his tongue for you. “Some drunk imbecile interrupted us. We shared words, and then he got sick on us.” He was pleased with himself, his story must’ve been believable with the way you nodded along.

“And then you punched him, right?”

His face drops. “That’s what you remember?”

Your shrug. “I don’t think I’ll ever forget it, Nanami. Not for my entire life.”

“Kento.” You hum, confused, so he reiterates, “I mean, call me Kento. I just clothed you, I’d say we’re close enough.” It’s true, you guys were getting more and more comfortable together by the day. Even outside of work and the management project, Nanami and you share text conversations more frequently than he would’ve ever imagined. And these little hangouts—granted, only two have been executed thus far—have been the most fun he’s had in ages. More fun than he’d ever hope to have with his ‘friendly’ business colleagues. You’re his friend.

You, Y/n L/n, are his friend. What a strange fucking twist of events, it nearly gives Nanami whiplash.

“Ken… To…” You speak each syllable slowly, peeking up at him through your eyelashes. He nods, grinning easily. Happy. “Kento, Kento, Ken—”

“Okay, okay enough.” He rises, arms raised as he gives a hearty stretch to his back. “It’s bedtime. Over there,” Nanami points at a door, “is the bathroom if you need it. You’ve got water here, and make sure you take the medicine in the mornings. You’re going to have a terrible migraine.”

“Wait, where are you gonna go?”

“I’ll take the couch for tonight.”

“Kento…” You whine, and he really wished you wouldn’t do that. “C’mere. There’s room.”

You’re patting the expansive open space beside you, peeling back the heavy blankets. It’s an enticing offer, to slip in beside you and feed off your body heat. To hold you to him and— Stop, what are you thinking? Stupid. “I think it’s best we don’t. Sorry.” And then he’s fleeing to the door because the way in which he worded that made the depths of his soul curl with cringe. Nanami bids you a polite sleep well before leaving you to the darkness, though he has enough sense left to keep the door cracked just in case you should yell for him in the night.

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tags . • @justbelljust @amnmich @ti-mame @silkija @maddietries @vyntagei @ebrysteria @aesukuni @lololooolleonnaaa @nanamiswife22 @r0ckst4rjk @mizzfizz @saiki-enthusiast @taelattecookie @enchantingkitty @kindadolly @reinam00n @hqtoge @syamamas @numblytemporary @xxravenxstarxx-blog @bloomedintome @guacam011y @jameinfrau @luvvmae @kazisupreme @nowhoremones @https-tank @venjrnjrbhrr19 @ya9amicide @darkstarlight82 @archivefortoji @alczam02 @kaiparkerwifes @kenz1eluvs @iaminyourfloors @queeen-goldfish @beautifulloverwitch @nxuriah @invisible-mori @hexrts-anatomy @katharinasdiaryy @moonlightazriel @mermaidian02 @squishies0102 @saintkaylaa @vi-ola666 @alettertonana @seeyapizzazz @jtoddlover

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straylightdream · 29 days ago

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dancing with our hands tied

𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭: boss!choi seungcheol x employee!f.reader

You said there was nothing in the world that could stop it. I had a bad feeling, and darling, you had turned my bed into a sacred oasis.

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: non-idol au, secret lovers, office romance

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: lots of tension, smut warning below.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3.1k

𝐚𝐧: inspired by the Taylor swift song of the same name. I might make a loose connecting series to this with other seventeen boys. Let me know if you’re interested in any other boys stories mentioned in this. You can also fill out this form helping me pick songs for the other boys.

here is my SVT taglist if you’re interested being add please fill out this form.

𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: unprotected sex (reader is on birth control), dirty talk, oral male receiving, big dick cheol, size kink (cheol is big and the mc loves how it feels), nicknames: baby (mc’s), sir (his)

From the moment you met Seungcheol you knew you were in trouble. You both worked for a big tech company in the city. When you first started working there Seungcheol didn’t have the huge promotion he had now. He ran a small department that you technically weren’t a part of when you started what was supposed to be a little fling. Fast forward to three months later and Seungcheol is in charge of fifty percent of the company. You originally tried to end your secret relationship but he swore nothing could happen if you stayed together. It had been ten months and your secret romance was still going strong.

Walking into his office you closed and locked the door behind you. The moment the door locked he pushed up his glasses and closed his laptop. The smirk that plays across his lips is enough to make you weak. A few times you’ve you been bold enough to crawl under his desk and give him head, but that wasn’t your plan today.

“Yes, (Y/N)?” You love when he tries to act professional when he speaks to you at work. Silently you walk over sitting the paper work on his desk.

“What time are you leaving the office tonight?” If you don’t ask him you know he’ll stay late at work like he always does.

“According to Soonyoung I have to go to the office party tonight so I have to leave at a reasonable time.”

“I guess I should probably go.” You actually didn’t want to go. You originally planned on staying home but Seungcheol has been bugging you for the last week to go.

“I’ll pick you up at seven,” he says smirking.

“Do you think it’s a good idea we go together?”

“Yes.” He stands up walking around his desk. You turn around so you’re leaning against his desk. “The door is locked right?” He leans in closer as your lips brush. Silently you nod. His hands grip your hips helping you sit on the edge of his desk. He stands between your parted thighs. Tangling your fingers in his hair while your lips move together for a heated kiss. His strong hands grip your hips grinding against your parted legs.

“I want to fuck you so badly right,” he moans against your lips.

“You should wait to do it when we’re not in the office,” you pull back smiling at him.

A large hand rests on your cheek as he tilts your head back. “Is this your way of teasing me?”

“No sir, but I think it’s best for my job if I don’t fuck my boss at work,” you gently push on his chest getting him to step backwards. The look on his face lets you know you’re in trouble once you’re fully alone tonight.

“I’m not your boss, technically Jeonghan is in charge of you,” he always tries to remind you of this. Him and Jeonghan have the same position, but Jeonghan is in charge of your division that’s in his part of the company.

Pushing yourself off the desk you walk past him. Before you could leave his office he grabs your wrist stopping you in your tracks. “By the end of the night I’m going to have you screaming my name.”

Work parties always tended to be a little crazy But when Soonyoung and Joshua are put in charge of planning the parties they tend to get wild. They have a knack for hosting parties filled with people you’ve never even seen at the office.

You were walking closely with Seungcheol. Your hands brushing as you walked through the crowded club that was in a fancy hotel. With the small touch of his hand brushing yours you felt electricity run through your veins. Glancing over at him you see him wearing a smirk looking in your direction.

There was something thrilling about being in public with your secret lover. Nobody knew what you did behind closed doors. You made the choice to keep your relationship secret because Seungcheol and you didn’t want your friends questioning what was going on. Technically you could get in trouble at work since he was your boss.

You normally never went to anything work related with him, but he practically begged you to go to this one. When Joshua mentioned throwing a huge company party at this fancy hotel you originally didn’t even plan on going. Seungcheol somehow sweet talked you into not only going but riding with him. He swore to you nobody would know you were together. That you could come to the party as his friend. Everyone at work knew you were friends before he received his huge promotion. Everyone always joked that once Seungcheol was promoted he would become completely different, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. He’s still the same kind hearted goofy guy you met the first day at the office. He just has a lot more money now.

You were standing by the window on the balcony talking to Minghao about your job. He worked in a different division of the company. You became friends through Mingyu who you have both worked with. Minghao was asking you tons of questions about your new position that you had been promoted to recently. Minghao has always been interested in knowing more about you.

“I’m gonna go find Cheol,” you say to Minghao before heading inside.

You make your way through the crowded room looking for your secret lover. You glanced around and found him standing at the bar talking to Wonwoo with a huge smile on his face. You stared for a long moment before his dark eyes locked on to yours. He bit his bottom and stared at you as you walked towards the dance floor.

The feeling of his dark eyes burning into your back couldn’t be missed as you walked through the crowd. You found a couple of the girls who you’ve met before these parties. Most of them work with Minghao. You all started dancing together along to the beat. The music easily melts away your worries as you’re lost in the sound. Swaying your hips to the beat and you smiled singing along with some of the girls. You of the girls called cheers as one of them walked over with shots to pass around. You took the shot glass filled with gold liquid and looked over your shoulder to find Seungcheol eyes still locked on you.

“Cheers,” you all shouted as you knocked back the shots.

“So are you and Cheol finally together?” The blonde who seemed very interested in Wonwoo asked, taking the shot glass from your hand.

You looked at her for a long moment trying to figure out if you should lie and say no or come clean. Seungcheol and you had been living in the bubble and you figured the less people that knew the better.

“Nope were really good friends,” you lied because for some reason it felt like the safest bet.

“Well if you guys ever do get together I think you would make a cute couple,” she smiled before walking away.

You glanced back at Seungcheol to see that he was attempting to make conversation with Wonwoo while staring at you. You started swaying your hips to the beat again.

You felt as if you once again got lost in the music and next thing you knew you were being tapped on the shoulder by Cheol who had walked over and joined the group with Minghao and Soonyoung. The beat of the music picked up and everyone was dancing and having fun. Seungcheol kept his distance from you, dancing and having fun with the group. Even though you were like five feet apart you could still feel your connection as he kept looking at you. Even in a crowded room he seemed to only see you.

Pretty soon another round of shots were being passed around. This time with a clear liquid. You bit your bottom lip and held the glass up to cheers with the rest of the group. Seungcheol nodded his head to you before taking the shot.

The dance floor had seemed to get more crowded and your group was forced to dance closer together. Soon enough you were swaying to the beat of the music with Seungcheol less than a foot from you.

Both your eyes were filled with lust as you moved to the beat. It’s as if you were dancing with your hands tied trying not to touch. You couldn’t let people know that you were together. You wanted nothing more in that moment to just hold his hand or to even just touch him how you have been dying to touch him.

You turned your body around and started moving your butt against him. At that moment you didn’t care who saw. His large hand brushed against your hip sending a shiver down your spine.

“I need more alcohol,” you said as you turned around to face him.

He moved his face closer to yours and whispered into your ear, “let’s get drinks.”

He placed his hand on your shoulder and led you off the dance floor towards the bar. You felt like everyone was staring at you, even though you knew you were probably just being paranoid.

“Do you think people know?” You asked, leaning against the bar.

He shrugged his shoulders, “at this point I don’t care.”

“But you’re my boss?”

He shrugs his shoulders as he waves down the bartender ordering you each a drink. “Technically I’m a boss. I’m not directly your boss. That would be Jeonghan.”

The two drinks are placed in front of you. You stare at the dark liquid before glancing up at Seungcheol who is watching you carefully. You waste no time drinking half the strong liquor.

“I don’t like this being a secret,” you sigh.

He gives you a sad smile before quickly drinking his dark liquor. “It doesn’t have to be a secret.”

You bit your lip wondering if it was worth keeping this relationship hidden from the world. It has been the best ten months of your life. But you want to be able to proudly walk around with the man you’re in love with.

“Let’s go up to the room I booked,” he leaned over and whispered into your ear.

“People are gonna notice us leaving,” you sighed as he traced his finger up and down your arm.

“At this point babe I want people to know you’re mine,” he whispered in your ear.

A shiver went down your spine as you stared at him. He looked at you in that moment as if you were his whole entire world. You wanted nothing more in that moment to steal a kiss from him.

“Let’s go,” reaching down and lacing your fingers together.

You moved through the crowded room towards the elevator. Looking over at him he smiled and pulled your hands close to him.

You hadn’t done anything more than just hold hands walking through the room but you knew your secret was now out. People would now know you were together. People would officially know you’re sleeping with one of the bosses. But the thing is you don’t care. People can gossip all they want. It doesn’t matter because you’re happy.

He held your hand tight while you waited for the elevator. He held your hand as if he was afraid that you would disappear if he let go. You stepped out into the hallway and you gave him a smile. You looked out into the crowd and found Jeonghan smiling as if he was proud to see you together. As the doors closed he leaned over and gave you a gentle kiss on the lips. You leaned into his chest feeling safe with him. Your secret was officially out.

The doors to the elevator opened and he laced his fingers with yours and led you into the hallway at a hurried pace. You could tell he was ready to get you into his room. He flung the door open and wasted no time pressing you against the wall. Your lips are roughly connected. He held onto your face as your lips danced. His lips pulled away from yours giving you a moment to breathe. Your lusted filled eyes stayed locked onto his as he moved his largest hands from your face down to your shoulders. You stood in silence for a long moment before he slowly started to pull the straps of your dress down your shoulders. You bit your bottom lip as he slid the dress off you. His eyes looked like he was intoxicated by the sight of you.

As the dress you had been wearing fell off you and pooled in a circle around your feet. You wore nothing but a pale rose colored bra and a pair of cheeky panties. Slowly you reached between the two of you to start unbuttoning his dress shirt. He took your cue and quickly got out of his dress shirt. You reached between you and worked on getting his pants unbuckled.

Quickly he undid his pants and stood there in him his boxers and a grin on his face. Roughly he connected his lips to yours. Wrapping your arms around him you pulled him in close to you. His rough hands gripped your hips as your lips moved together.

Large hands roamed your back as he moved them towards your bra. With little effort he unclasped your bra letting it fall to the floor. Pulling his lips away from yours he started kissing your neck while his hands moved up and start massaging your breast. Leaning your head back against the wall you can’t help but moan, enjoying the feeling of his lips on your body. No matter how many times you do this he makes you fall apart effortlessly.

He moved his lips across your skin as you tangled yours fingers in his long hair. His lips moved lower and lower as he sunk down onto his knees in front of you. He placed a trail of kissed from your breast down to the top of your panties. He looked up at you with hungry eyes as he licked his lips slowly. His large hands slowly gripped the top of your panties and slowly pulled them down. Stepping out of them you stood completely naked in front of him while he sat on his knees looking like he was ready to eat you alive.

“Why am I the only naked one here?” You asked grinning. You love these little moments you get to tease him.

Silently he stood up and made quick work of taking his boxers off. He stood there naked and proud with his erection point straight at you. Biting your lip you sank down onto your knees in front of him. Reaching up and slowly stroking his already hardened erection. Leaning forward you slowly licked the tip. In the ten months you’ve been together you’ve learned all the ways to make him fall apart, just like he knows every way to make you scream. The faint gasp passed his lips is enough to make you wet. Your tongue moved down his length and he tangled his fingers in your hair. Taking him in your mouth you slowly bobbed your head taking in his large dick as much as you could. Seungcheol is the biggest dick you’ve ever had. The first time you hooked up you weren’t even sure he would fit inside you.

He kept moaning your name letting you know that you’re doing a good job. You release him with a pop and lick along his length again your tongue brushes the prominent vein that runs along the side of his cock. Bobbing your head again, taking in his length as you worked your hands at his base. A mixture of moans and whimpers keep passing his lips.

You’re caught off guard when he pulls your hair lightly.“Baby I don’t wanna finish in your mouth,” he looked down at you dazed, and on the brink of falling apart.

He pulled you to your feet and connected his lips to yours roughly. Your back was against the wall within moments. Roughly he lifted you up so you was pressed against the wall. You pulled your lips away from his biting on his bottom lip. He grinned and reached between you and lined his erection up with your entrance.

A loud gasp passed your lips as he thrust into you never giving you a chance to adjust to his size. Wrapping your arms around him as he thrust into you over and over again. Rolling your head back and resting it against the wall as you moaned.

“Fuck- you’re so big,” you moan.

“Sorry baby-“ he pauses like he’s trying to calm down. “I should have gone slower.”

“Fuck- it’s fine. Please keep moving,” you beg.

Your eyes rolled back in your head at the feeling of him stretching you over and over again. His hands roughly held your ass bringing you towards him with every thrust. “Oh my god,” a loud moan passes your lips. You aren’t sure if you’re even able to coherently speak. He’s left you practically brain dead with how good he’s fucking you. You’ll never get over the feeling of how big he is and how good it feels when he stretches you out.

“I'm a close baby,” he groaned.

He pressed you against the wall a little harder and started thrusting a little rougher. He’s not normally this rough but you won’t complain. You’re so cock drunk and lust filled he could practically do anything to you and you would beg for more.

“Cheol,” you moaned as your walls tightened around him. You fall apart quickly and you practically black out with how hard your orgasm hits you.

He got one more thrust in before he moaned your name loudly. You wouldn’t be surprised if the rest of the party heard you even from the bottom floor.

“So I think people know we’re together now,” you said softly as he slowly sat you down. Your legs felt like jello and leaned against him for support.

“Good I don’t wanna hide you anymore,” he said, wrapping his arms around you. You couldn’t help but smile at the fact you weren’t hiding anymore.

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