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pairing: angrynerd!riki x professorsdaughter!reader (afab)
synopsis: riki couldn't stand his professor, the one that sadly was the one who stood the most before the whole lecture hall and did his shit lecturing. was there a better way to have his revenge than fuck his daughter that attended the same course — on his table.
genre: smut
contains: profanity, dubcon, unethical behavior, evil nerd!riki, scared!reader, morally grey behavior, violent behavior, reader wears glasses, riki is just so bitter
His nails dug into your jaw. The back of your thighs hit your dad's table as he made your neck strain, getting you to look up at his taller frame. You gulped, hands gripping the edge of the wooden desk as his grip tightened even more.
Riki's jaw ticked, eyes going over your face, the heavy glasses on your nose, the features that so obviously reminded him of the person he hated so much. From the depth of his soul.
Your tender hand shot up to his wrist, grabbing it and trying to pull it off of you. His slanted dark eyes bored through your soft ones. You shouldn't have came here, you should have just told your dad it doesn't matter. That you will get the charger that you forgot at the lecture tommorow when he is here in his office, let him bring it to you tommorow maybe. Join your parents on a family dinner right after your last lecture ended.
But here you were now; pushed into the table as the boy who came here to get the detailed report on his last exam about what he did so wrong that he almost failed. The low percentage jabbing at his chest between all the almost hundred percents of other courses in his student card.
He hated your dad's guts. Hated.
And now finding and having you here, alone, in your dad's faculty building office this nice afternoon as the setting sun came through the windows was definitely the best thing that happened in the last semester.
Since your shit-ass dad started teaching his and your department fused and his GPA started dropping.
Riki's eyes flicked down your body. Down your stupid tomboyish style so painfully similar to his own. The baggy jeans hugging your hips, a belt holding the heavy denim up. The tank top that hugged your waist, your chest as the too big hoodie stood dangling unzipped by your sides, exposing your front.
Your nails dug into his wrist, fingers tender but still firm with something painfully fearful. "Let me go..." You uttered out, eyes trying to avoid his heavy and angry gaze, but there was no use. Riki's jaw tightened again, his other hand coming up to your hair as his knee came between your thighs and pressed you harder against the desk that it sent it scraping against the linoleum floor.
You winced at his grip on your jaw and the tightness of his fingers in your hair. "You think you get to decide?" He tilted his head at your trembling state, his taller frame engulfing your smaller one, intimidatingly telling you he is in charge. And your words do not matter. Riki let his eyes move over to you lips, small trembls catching his attention.
"R-Riki—"
He cut you off by pressing his mouth against yours. It sent your body jolting from the aggressiveness of it as he gripped your hair harder. Riki's lips moved emotionlessly against your stiff ones but when his knee pressed harder higher against your core, you lips moved unsurely against his. Messy smacking sounds filled the empty big room, echoing in your head as a reminder of what is actually happening and you attempted to pull away. But he angled your head, pulling you harshly against his front as his tongue forcefully entered your warm cavity. He pulled back an inch. His grip tightened when you tried to pull away—not enough to lose control.
His grip didn't loosen when you struggled, simply just melted more into your jaw. If anything, it tightened—just enough to stop you. Your fingers pressed harder against his wrist, nails digging in, but he didn't react. Didn't flinch. His eyes stayed locked on yours, dark and sharp, like he was waiting for you to realize something you hadn't yet.
"You're really fighting me?" He muttered, almost under his breath. There was no humor in it but something colder. Not louder—worse. Your fingers pressed harder against his wrist. "I-I didn't do anything to you—"
"Yeah." He interrupted again tongue darting over his bottom lip, this time with a quiet, humorless laugh. "That's kind of the problem, isn't it" He just watched you struggle for a second longer than necessary then leaned in slightly, his breath brushing your slick lips.
"You don't get to tell me what to do."
And he smashed your lips together again, forcing his own hard over yours, like trying to bruise, to make you quiver.
You stood there stiff, muscles locked in on their own. His warm tongue forces itself again through your lips meeting your pliant one as you tried to fight his dominance away. Away from you. A breathless whine was released against his mouth, half protest and half something you tried to push back. His palm dropped from your jaw to your throat as he pulled back just slightly. "Your dad is a fucking shit professor..." He squeezed your throat, a warning. Riki's eyes flicked over your glasses, the way they were slightly askew from the way he kissed you just a second ago, cheeks hot and flushed.
His knee pushed up against your core, pressing right onto the most sensitive part, as if knowing exactly where. You inhaled deeply, eyes closing as he started rhythmically thrusting his knee against your pussy.
And you hated that he was slowly but surely luring the wanted arousal from you.
Your thighs quivered, eyes closed as your head dropped forward with low pants leaving your lips. Hips moved in a search of better friction. You couldnt raise your head to look at him. To spare him a glance when you were the one that was now humping his leg desperately, borderline humiliating moving after the protests.
Your palms moved down, clutched the edge of cold work desk, eyes going tight shut as you tried to supress the sounds that tried to crawl their way out of your throat. Riki's thumb dug harder into your pulse point, urging you to look at him. And you did. Over the rim of your glasses.
Riki chuckled darkly, the deep sound echoing the empty and quiet office. "You love this shit?" He asked amused, knee pressing hard against you, making you yelp in the discomfort that followed instead of the teasing drag. You didn't answer, just stared back at him, pupils blown eyes peering through your lashes and dripping with shame.
He finally released your neck, both of his hands shooting down to your belt. "Too fucking bad..." He aggressively started undoing it, jaw tight as he kept your still figure right there. "... Since you won't like it for long." You just stood there unable to process what was happening. When your jeans hit the ground, leaving you only in your underwear, your eyes shot up to his face. Riki observed your naked bottom, the bunched up baggy denim on your feet.
His knee pressed against you, hard. A gasp of sudden pain escaped you, eyes pressing closed as you gripped the edge of the cold office table. Your gasp hadn't even fully left your lips before he stopped.
Not completely—his knee still pressed against you, firm, unrelenting—but everything else about him stilled. Riki's eyes lifted from where your jeans had fallen, dragging back up your body slowly. Taking his time. Like he was memorizing every reaction you couldn't hide. Your grip tightened on the desk.
The silence stretched.
Too long.
Your chest heavied, the burn between your legs grew. Riki's hand tugged at your hair, angling your head right up to his face. His other hand came up to adjust your glasses back in place. He huffed out a breath, a smirk tugging at his lips. His eyes didn't leave yours. "Must be nice." He muttered. A quiet scoff followed, breath brushing your face.
"Never having to prove anything."
Your brows pulled together despite everything, fingers tightening against the edge of the desk as you tried to steady your voice. "You don't know anything about me." The words came out almost a whisper, unsure. His grip in your hair tightened instantly at that making you hiss out in pain.
His fingers flexed, not enough to snap—just enough to remind you. Riki tilted his head slightly, studying you like you just said something mildly interesting. "No?" He said quietly, his free hand moving gently around the string of your underwear at your hip — a contrast to the way he was holding your hair. His long slender finger hooked onto the thong string, pulling and letting it snap against your hip. His eyes flicked down again.
"A thong?" He asked, sneering under his breath as he let his cold ringed fingers graze you exactly where your thigh met your mound. Your muscles tensed, a sharp inhale followed. "Didn't expect you to be that kind of girl..." He taunted, fingers now moving right between your tense thighs, slipping harshly over your mound and right on the embarrassing wet patch that started forming. You reflexively tried to close your thighs together, when his fingers ran over your most intimate part, fingertips digging into the fabric. But he was quick to fully slip in between your legs, knees pushing your weak ones apart. He chuckled, but there was a harsh bitterness behind it — the anger that was fueling him.
You gripped the table, your arms trying to push you away from him, so you ended up sitting on the edge of the table — balancing so you wouldn't fully feel his overwhelming touch. You whimpered at his tug in your hair, the feel of his fingers pressing harshly against your pulsing heat. "Don't fucking run from me." He spat out through gritted teeth, getting in your face. Before you could react, before you could even pull another breath in—his grip shifted. Rough.
His hand yanked at your hair, not just holding you in place this time but moving you, dragging you forward just enough to throw you off balance. Your hands slipped against the desk, a startled sound leaving your throat as your body pitched. "Think you get to pick how this goes?" He muttered, voice low, strained with something harsher now— less controlled, more cutting.
You tried to push back, palms pressing against the desk, but he didn't give you the chance to recover. His hand left your hair only for a second, just long enough to grab you properly. Firm and unyielding. And then he turned you.
Fast.
The world spun in a blur of wood and light as your front hit the desk, a sharp gasp ripping from your chest at the impact. The surface was cold against your skin, grounding and overwhelming all at once. Your fingers scrambled for purchase, nails dragging against the wood as you tried to push yourself up but his hand was already there. Between your shoulder blades, forcing you down.
He chuckled at your attempt to raise yourself, squirming against the cold surface. The set of pencils tumbled down to the ground a moment ago, a empty mug rolled against the linoleum floor somewhere far in the room. Your breath stuttered, chest pressed against the desk as you twisted your head slightly, trying to look back at him—but his grip tightened instantly, pushing you flat again with a flexing forearm that was furiously pressing his palm into your back.
"Don't." He snapped, the warning clear. The room felt too big. Too empty. Riki's eyes scanned the desk, a set of papers and books by your side catching his attention. And he harshly pushed it off, letting the books tumble and papers scatter all over the floor. You gasped at the sound of papers flying and harsh hardcovers hitting the ground, head snapping toward the echo of it. Your lips trembled, a lump forming in your throat at the sudden realisation of the situation. You. Bent over your father's work desk. In your underwear. And a boy you barely ever spoke to right behind you. Your voice resonated the tight space, chest heaving against the flat wooden surface as you spoke quietly. "Someone's going to walk i—"
"I don't give a shit!"
A hand found your hip, fingers digging in—not gentle, not careful, just enough to hold you exactly where he wanted you. His bulge rubbing all up on your ass as his hand gripped your flesh harshly.
Your body tensed under his touch, breath uneven, fingers curling tighter against the edge of the desk as you braced yourself. Heat burned through your face—anger, humiliation, something tangled deep in your chest—but your body betrayed you, still tense, still reacting, still there. The burn between your legs grew, aching desperately and humiliatingly.
His fingers grabbed your thong string, playing and toying with it against your skin as he hooked his fingers on it. "You're gonna stay right here..." He said, low and controlled. Not a question — a decision. "And let me fuck you however I fucking want." He harshly pulled the string that dipped right between your asscheeks, the underwear digging painfully into your puffy folds, swallowing the fabric and straining against your slit. You gasped in pain, squirming and trying to get on your tippy toes, to ease the uncomfortable feeling between your thighs. You whined, hips trying to get away, but the more you moved the more the desk scraped against the floor and the edge dug into your pelvis as Riki pressed his hard bulge against your ass, keeping you in place.
A yelp left you, legs kicking by his thighs as you trashed under him. "Stop..." You cried out, tears clinging to your lashes. He only pulled your thong harder, the thin material pressing at your clit, getting swallowed by your wetness as the heel of his palm dug harder into you back. "Make me." He spat out with disdain, a control he had in the moment making him smirk right after.
Riki's eyes dragged down your figure, from the back of your messy hair to the exposed shoulders and the straps of the tank top. The hoodie loosely clung to your upperarms, all messy and exposing your upper back as it rested on your waist. And finally, your ass all plump against his throbbing cock that hid under the baggy denim.
Riki's slender fingers played with the string, pulling and slightly releasing it before tightening it again. The stimulation hitting your puffy throbbing bud just right that you bucked your hip against the pull, chasing the friction. A broken sound left your throat, knuckles white from all the gripping of the sharp edges. Your toes curled inside of your sneakers, the pressure against your slit rubbing off so good, digging and pressing your folds.
A low moan caught in your throat, your body betraying you with every small movement, hips shifting despite yourself as the pressure built and built. A low, humorless chuckle left him, the sound rough, edged with something bitter as his hand pressed you down—keeping you exactly where he wanted you.
"Yeah…" He muttered under his breath. "That's what I thought."
Your fingers slipped slightly against the desk, breath uneven, glasses sliding further down your nose from the way your forehead pressed against the surface. You tried to push up—just a little—but his hand came down harder against your back, stopping you instantly.
"Stay down." He snapped. Your breath hitched, a quiet whimper escaping before you could stop it.
Behind you, he shifted—close enough that you could feel the heat of him through the layers, the presence alone enough to make your stomach twist. "Acting like you don't want it." He went on, voice low, dragging each word out like he was testing your reaction. "But you're not even trying to get away anymore."
"That's not—" Your voice broke, cutting off as your body tensed again, the words losing their weight before they could even form properly as he let your thong back in place. His hand slid from your back to your hip, fingers digging in, holding you still as his other hand traced back down slowly—deliberate now, not rushed.
That contrast made it worse.
Your breath stuttered, head turning slightly to the side, cheek pressed against the desk as your glasses tilted awkwardly. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to focus on anything but the way he moved, the way he took his time.
"Can't even decide what you want." He murmured, quieter now, almost to himself as his fingers cupped your heat. "Fucking annoying." Your nails scraped against the wood again, a weak attempt to ground yourself as his hand paused, just for a second, like he was waiting.
Waiting for you to react. Waiting for you to realize. Then he moved again, firmer this time, more certain. His fingers moved your soaked thin underwear to the side, the air hitting your pulsing pussy. Riki moved his hips back slightly, enough to catch a glimpse of your slick folds. The way they were glistening under the dim lights. His fingers moved, grazing the burning and wet flesh, two digits dipping into your mess as they entered you harshly. His touch was no longer teasing, no longer testing, but deciding. A sharp inhale left you, your body jolting under him, back arching slightly before his hand pressed you down again.
"Don't fucking move." He said, voice low, controlled. He started pumping them, massaging your walls in fast motions as he felt you squeeze him. Your breath came out in uneven bursts, chest rising against the desk as your fingers curled tighter, the pressure building in a way you couldn't ignore anymore—no matter how much you wanted to.
Your slick covered his whole hand in seconds, the embarrassing amount of arousal oozed out of you with each plunge of his long ringed fingers inside of you. The way he split you with harsh and precise moves was overstimulating, on the thin line between pain and pleasure. Your tried to get away, raising your head and clawing at the poor desk that was the only witness to this sinful act, but Riki held you — painfully pressing your lower back down, the edge digging into your bladder and bones.
"Your dad stands there..." He went on, each word deliberate and his thrusts calculated. "Talking like he knows everything—like everyone else is just too fucking stupid to understand him."
A strangled sound left your throat, your glasses slipping further down your nose as your head dropped, lashes damp, vision blurring. He curled them inside of you, the sloppy sounds getting to your ears with each hit of his knuckles against your damp folds.
Your breath hitched, something tight and humiliating curling in your chest, but your body didn't stop—couldn't stop—every small movement pulling another reaction out of you. Low moans that you tried to conceal poorly, to let escape your dry throat without him noticing went awfully bad. He heard every breath you took, each one you let out against the desk.
"Walks around like he's so fucking perfect—" His tone twisted, mocking, fingers pistoning into you. "—like everyone else is just too slow to keep up with him."
Your fingers tightened painfully against the wood, eyes closing shut as the pressure inside of your pelvis grew.
"Stop—" It came out broken, barely there.
He didn't.
Instead, he leaned in slightly, his rock hard bulge grazing your ass as he continued abusing your velvety walls, fingertips dragging against them mercilessly. "All that shit he talks in lectures." He continued, disdain dripping from every word. "Can't explain a single thing properly—and somehow I'm the one who gets screwed over."
"And you just stand next to him." He continued, harsher now, fingers thrusting into you even harder. "Like that makes you something." Your head shook weakly, a small, broken sound leaving you, eyes tight shut. "I'm not—"
"You are."
The interruption was immediate. Cold.
His grip tightened, holding you down as your body reacted again, your breath catching, thighs tensing as everything inside you coiled tighter, dangerously close. You kicked your legs by his side, calves grazing the rough denim of his jeans. He pulled back again, eyes flicking down to the mess you created and he scoffed.
"Same attitude." He muttered, eyes gazing over your shaky shoulders and your messy hair. "Same fucking look."
Your chest pressed harder against the desk as your breathing lost all rhythm, your body betraying you completely now, every nerve pulled tight, every thought slipping. You stilled, offering yourself to him as you slightly arched your lower back, surrendering to the oncoming burst that avaited you. Just a little, just one more thrust—
A very needy moan escaped you, cheek pressing against the cold wood, glasses tilting awkwardly as your legs cramped by his side. The burning sensation was about to spill all over you. About to tip over.
Riki felt you offer your hole to his fingers, arching your lower back against his hand. Seeing you brace your hands against the edges, cheek pressing against the surface was enough of a sign. You are going to cum.
His fingers didn't let up, only pushed you closer and closer. Riki's eyes shoot down to his digits getting swallowed by your cunt. The way you sucked them in, the slimy wetness all clinging and sticking to his whole hand. He groaned at the sight, the filthy scene fueling him as he curled them inside of your clenching hole.
"Riki..."
You panted his name, eyes rolling to the back of your head. Your pussy burned with each smack of his hand against your ruined slit, your thighs feeling the trickles of wetness drag down. His forearm was getting tired, veins popping and muscles flexing but he didn't dare stop, not yet.
Just as a tight coil in your abdomen sparked, ready to snap and overflow your senses, he pulled his fingers out. The flutter of your hole around nothing made you whine. Cold sweat covered your skin, glasses slightly fogged from your hard breathing against the table.
Your muscles started relaxing again, the tenseness evaporating as you tried to steady your breathing. You gulped at the arousal that only throbbed more, aching for the release he ripped from you. Riki watched a string of slimy arousal snap as he brought his fingers up, watching them glisten under the afternoon sun that illuminated the space.
Riki's gaze lingered on his hand for a moment longer, jaw tightening as something unreadable flickered across his face. Then, slowly, his attention shifted back to you—spread out, breathless, still trembling from what he'd just taken away.
A quiet exhale left him, sharp and controlled. His hands dropped to his belt. The metallic click echoed louder than it should have in the room, cutting through the haze in your head. Your fingers twitched against the surface beneath you, body still hypersensitive, still waiting and aching for something you weren't sure he'd give.
Your breath hitched at the sound, thighs pressing together instinctively, but it only made the ache worse—more obvious. Your puffy folds drooling and inviting his raging cock. He finally undid his belt, hand unzipping the jeans and letting them cling to his hips. His hand dipped down his abs and into his briefs, wrapping his hand around his throbbing shaft and pulling it out. He stroked himself, brows furrowing with a sharp inhale leaving his nose. He leaned over your limp body, his hips attaching to your ass as he poked your entrance. His big head teasing your gaping hole, making you twitch under him. You jolted at the feel of him suddenly dipping into you, the tip throbbing against your entrance begging to be swallowed. You tensed under him. Your breath stuttered, your body going still in a way that didn't feel like control—more like you lost it completely.
And he noticed.
Of course he did.
A quiet, almost amused exhale left him as he hovered over you, his presence heavy, suffocating, impossible to ignore. One hand came down beside your head, the other settling firm against your hip, keeping you exactly where he wanted you.
"Not a word now." He muttered, pushing himself inside of you in one fast stroke. All the way in.
Your fingers twitched against the flat surface, a squel left you, nails scraping the desk faintly. You clamped around him, walls tensing against his heavy lenght that came in uninvited.
He huffed quietly. Bottoming out and slamming back in, slowly building the rhythm as he dragged inside your cunt, filling you up and then pulling back repeatedly.
"Yeah… That's better."
Your chest pressed harder into the surface as you swallowed, heat burning up your neck, your glasses slipping slightly again as your head turned just enough to breathe, to face away from his strong hand right by your head. The desk moved with each snap od his hips against yours, rough and unrelenting as he fucked his frustrations into your sopping pussy.
"You sit there every lecture like you already know everything." He went on, voice low, controlled—but sharper now. More personal.
"Don't even have to try, right?"
Your fingers curled tighter, breathy pants escaping you as he kept on sliding in, even through all the resistance your walls provided, tensing around his big cock, begging him to slow down, to stop and let you adjust.
But Riki was unyielding, hips slamming harder and harder into you with each passing second. Smacks filled the room together with your whines and pants. He let his eyes wander again, take in your smaller figure under his tall and big one. The way his hand was the side of your head almost. The way your small shoulders trembled with each plunge of his throbbing dick into you, knuckles white from the gripping against the edges of the table. Supporting. Bracing yourself for each one of his merciless thrusts.
His eyes flicked down. Lower. To where you two connected. Where your small puffy cunt swallowed his thick base, watching the way he stretched your entrance. He groaned, his hand landing on your ass with a harsh smack echoing the already filthy atmosphere. "Ah—" You moaned in pain, body weak and fragile under his aggressive torture.
His fingers dug into your flesh, groping the place he just marked with his large hand. "Thought you had more fight in you." He murmured, voice low and faux. You let out a sob of restraint, the drag of his tip against your walls too overwhelming. "Where did all that attitude go?" He muttered, voice dipping lower.
The desk moved under you scraping against the floor, making you gasp in terror. Someone could come up, open these door to check what was the all the noise and catch you.
Your head throbbed violently, ears buzzing at every snap of his hips against your wetness, the sound becoming too loud for the tight space. "Didn't know you were such a whore..." He continued, feeling you tense the more he glided in, each thrust easier and filthier. Riki's grip on your ass faltered, fingers quickly hooked onto the same thong string that dug into your hip. And he violently pulled it, ripping the thin fabric.
You gaspedy feeling the loose fabric slid from your front, only clinging to the wetness that seemed to stick it to your inner thighs. But Riki pulled it completely off, letting it fall down between your legs.
"What do you think about leaving these filthy thongs here? Hm?"
His hips didn't let up, still smacking into you with the unrelentinh force, sending you completely jolting against the desk. Your pelvis felt already bruised, hip bones colliding with the sharp edge repeatedly and surely leaving promising purple marks. "Letting your dad know what a slut his daughter is. Make him fucking disgusted." He added through gritted teeth.
Your eyes teared up, was it because of his words, because of his abuse of your pulsing and sore pussy — you didn't know. But when tears rolled down your cheeks and your lashes fluttered shut for the nth time you felt the pulse all the way in your ears. Too deep. He was fucking you too deep.
"Please slow down..." You pleaded, voice trembling and almost a whisper. Begging him in a silent way you would never dare to actually say aloud. You raised your head, hands trying to push you back up, but you had no strength left. Your thighs quivered, legs felt like jelly. The constant rapid smacks of his heavy balls against your sore and aching folds were too much. You felt your own insides burning from the way he split you.
He chuckled at that, watching you glance over your shoulder. A breathy broken sound escaping you as he hit that one spot deep inside you, sending your glasses completely sliding of your nose and clinging to the side of your face. Riki reached over, his hand harshly bringing the glasses back in place. "Keep those on..." He growled, deep voice looming over your trembling figure as the familiar warmth started forming in the pit of your stomach. You whimpered, and before you could utter another sound Riki's fingers entered your warm cavity. He pushed your head back, facing straight, fingers hooked into your mouth as he kept on ramming into you, his own breathing raged. You moaned against his salty fingertips, closing the lips around the digits with remnants of you from earlier and feeling them heavy on your tongue.
Your toes curled in your sneaker, legs kicking against by his side as you whined around his fingers with tears clinging to your hot face. The sudden knot grew with every punishing thrust of his, rapidly. You moaned and moaned around his fingers, sobbing as the overwhelming sensations took over. So close. Again so close.
And Riki pulled out.
Completely.
Leaving you trembling and your sore hole clenching around nothing. His fingers also ripped out from your suckling mouth, leaving you shaking and whining in frustration. He panted, hair sticking to his sweaty forehead, jeans already fallen to the ground with the hoodie still clinging to his torso. He leaned over, all the way to your ear, fingers tangling at your roots, pulling your head back to spit out right at your ear.
"You really think you get to cum?"
Your neck strained, your roots pulled at tight in his grip before he harshly released you, sending your glasses sliding down before your clumsy trembling hands pushed them back up.
You sniffed, lashed clumped and wet from all the tears. Your skin felt damp. Disgustingly messy. Before you could catch your breath Riki's rough hand grabbed your upperarm, turning you around before he fisted your hair again. You hissed in pain, hands coming up to his wrist as he dragged you off the desk and onto your legs. He forced you down. On your knees.
You looked up at him over your glasses, breath shaky and unstable — anticipating his next move. His tall figure stood over you, his cock erect and painfully red at the tip ached with pressure. You gulped, gaze flicking unsurely up to his dark slanted eyes that stared right through your soft ruined ones. The burn between your legs pulsed, the uncomfortable wetness spreading and sticking to your fused thighs.
Riki's hand was fast.
A smack echoed the room as your cheek felt the sudden sting, sending your head to the side. You stayed quiet, eyes empty and staring at the floor as the pulse between your legs seemed to get embarrassingly worse.
"You really think a slut like you gets to cum on my cock?" He scoffed, a humorless laugh escaping him as he grabbed your jaw and forced you to look up at him. The other hand gripped the base of his cock, titling it right over your closed lips. "Open your mouth. Baby." He mocked you, the nickname bitter on his tongue as the voice resonated the office and you stared at him deadpan — but your lips still parted.
His warm tip grazed your plump lips, closing around it as he pushed inside of your warm cavity. Your tongue pressed against the underside of him as he slowly filled you up. Your cheeks hollowed, making sure no teeth comes in contact with his throbbing lenght.
Riki hit your uvula, feeling your throat constrict against his pulsing head and he groaned. He started thrusting against your mouth, fingers digging into your jaw as he held you exactly where he wanted you. Your eyes closed tightly, grounding yourself so you could bare his thrusts.
"Aren't you my sex toy from now on? Hm?" He spoke, voice breathy but steady. "Yeah, I think I like that idea." His eyes scanned your poor state, the way your mouth struggled to take his thrusts as he hit the back of your poor throat. Your closed eyes, furrowed eyebrows and the tense shoulders. He chuckled, feeling his own release being close.
He pulled out from your mouth, fingers still holding your face up. Your lips and his cock glistened with spit, a string of saliva connecting them as he wrapped his other hand around his lenght. Riki's hand glided rapidly against his shaft, tugging aggressively against the slippery skin as his abs constricted. His chest heavied up and down, the sharp inhales following. "Going to paint your stupid face..."
The squelching sound filled the room. His warm hand jerked his cock in front of your face, the rhythm nothing but filthy. Your throat tightened, eyes closing tightly and preparing for the shame that's going to flood you when his cock releases the seed right onto your flushed face. "Fucking leave my cum all over you..." He muttered under his breath, every word laced with resentment. His hand firmly squeezed his cock as he kept on sliding against it. He panted, whiny moans escaping him now, a sudden contrast to the persona as he delivered one last harah tug and the pressure eased.
White ropes of cum shot from his bulbous head, coating your glasses and dripping down your face. You opened your mouth in shock at the sudden gush, feeling some of it drip on your brows, clinging to your lashes and even ending up in your mouth. Riki made sure even the last drop ended up on your face as he gripped your jaw harder, pushing the tip onto your plump lips and wiping the last bit of his release.
He panted heavily, cock used and twitching with after shocks as he let it go. Both of his hand came to your cheeks, cupping it as his thumbs went over your glasses, wiping the semen and clearing your view.
He blankly stared at you, his breathing steadying as he held your head. He grimaced at your state, disgust painting his sharp and perfect features. You licked the salty fluid from your lips, feeling it spread on your taste buds before you swallowed it, never breaking the tense eye contact.
Riki couldn't look at you anymore.
And he spat on you.
His glob of spit ending up right on your face, trickling down your skin as it mixed with the white thick substance.
"That's what you fucking deserve."
And before you could defend yourself, say something back, at least utter a simple 'no' — you stayed quiet, eyes tearing up as he released your head. Riki picked his baggy jeans up, pulling up and zipping them in place and putting his belt on. The metal clanking in the quiet room as you sat down your legs, calves supporting your weight as you blankly stared at the thorn underwear right by your bare thigh.
Riki run a hand through his hair, eyes going once more over the messy office. Books and papers scattered, mug and pencils all over the floor, desk pushed out of place — so obviously askew.
And you.
His most precious possession right by his own desk, covered in cum of one of his students. Ruined and sticky with the mess Riki himself made.
He smirked, eyes flicking down your figure one last time, feet already getting ready to move toward the door.
"Not my fault you were here..."
A pause.
"Don't clean it up too fast."
_____
! this is all work of fiction. in no way this is a representation of enhypen members nor do I believe this is how they behave in real life or condone these actions!
synopsis: the four times you failed trying to flirt with your boss, and the one time he actually reciprocated.
pairing: boss!lee heeseung xf!reader
genre: modern au, office au, co-workers to lovers/boss x employee
cw: fluff, crack, smut, piv (unprotected), face-fucking, semi-clothed sex, rough sex, dryhumping, shoe-licking (ew), spanking, degradation, brat tamer!heeseung, power dynamics, petnames (use of good girl), light bondage, y/n is lowkey embarrassing/has zero shame whatsoever and just wants the heedih
word count: like 12k
this was lowkey inspired by miniskirt by aoa hence the name hehe😮
MDNI
'print these contracts, organise them in chronological order, and have them ready in my office before you leave.'
that's what heeseung had told you to do, sliding a thick folder across the desk to you. this is what you deserve for disrupting your boss in an attempt to flirt with him, you suppose.
you remember staring at the files, and then at heeseung - asking him if he was serious.
"why wouldn't i be?"
"because there’s like… a hundred pages here," you say slowly, flipping through the folder with disbelief. "and half of these dates aren’t even labelled properly."
heeseung doesn’t look remotely sympathetic.
"then figure it out."
you clutch the stack of half-printed documents dramatically to your chest. "but i'm just a helpless employee, sir."
"don’t call me sir like that."
"like what?" you try to stop the grin from spreading on your face.
heeseung leans back in his chair with a quiet sigh, his watch gleaming under the lights. that looked expensive. "you know exactly what you’re doing."
and maybe you do.
because for the past three months of working under department manager lee heeseung, you'd made it a personal mission to get him to crack.
and to crack him.
"close the door on your way out."
that didn't get you any sympathy points. and now you're leaning against the wall, waiting for the barely-working printer to finish it's job - which would take a millennium judging from how much it already printed in the last twenty minutes.
the printer wheezes like it’s on its last breath before spitting out another single page.
you stare at it.
"you are genuinely useless," you mumble to the machine. another painful whirring sound answers you.
great.
you slide down the wall slightly, arms crossed as you wait for the next page to crawl out. the office is mostly empty now, just the distant hum of keyboards from the few employees still staying back late.
you're contemplating breaking the machine completely at this point. maybe heeseung would consider actually buying a new machine. that would benefit everyone.
the printer suddenly stops again.
"you actually piss me off." you walk over to it, pressing a few buttons before the screen flashes low toner in mocking little letters. you close your eyes, sighing.
"have you really reached a new low that you're talking to printers now?" jay walks by, pausing his steps as he sips on whatever iced beverage he was drinking.
you turn your head slowly toward jay with the blank expression of someone seconds away from a mental breakdown. "please don't start with me."
jay glances at the printer screen before letting out an understanding hum. "ah. toner issue."
"it’s been printing for thirty minutes and i have maybe," you look down at the pathetic stack of papers in the tray, "twenty pages."
"why do you need to print all that, anyway?" jay says gesturing with his free hand. you let out a long sigh, shuffling the papers into a neater pile against your chest.
"heeseung dumped it onto me. apparently the board meeting tomorrow needs physical copies of every contract involved in the merger." you pause, blinking up at jay. "why, you wanna help?"
jay lets out a short laugh, taking another sip from his straw. "very funny joke." he smiles at you, before shaking his head. "absolutely not."
your face falls immediately at the false hope. "oh, you're so fake. i'm never staying overtime for you again."
"that's crazy, because i distinctly remember you ignoring my emails for three business days last month." jay says, tone flat as he acts unbothered.
you roll your eyes, adjusting the heavy stack of papers in your arms. "whatever. i hope heeseung dumps ten times more work on you tomorrow."
"he won't, i'm his favourite." jay boasts, grinning lazily, making you scoff in annoyance.
you exhale through your nose, "i don't think his favourite would be working overtime."
jay just walks past, patting your shoulder. "you should just ask heeseung to fix the printer, it'd help everyone out." he's already around the corner before you can even utter a word out. what an idiot.
the printer makes a weird nose, and you whip your head around to look. yeah, it was definitely cooked. the screen flashes something ominous, low toner, paper jam, and a blinking error icon. sighing softly, you turn it off through the switch at the wall to just stop the loud, unnecessary noises it was creating.
you crouch down, gathering the scattered pages from the tray. around thirty printed overall, twenty properly done, the rest fading out halfway through like the printer gave up mid-sentence.
you stack them neatly, tapping the edges against your palm to straighten them. your eyebrows furrow as you skim the half-finished text. yeah, heeseung was going to cook your shit.
you exhale through your nose, straightening the stack one more time like that’ll magically fix the situation. whatever. it’s not like you personally sabotaged the machine. the thing had been dying for weeks anyway, it was way out of your control.
you’d just tell him that. the printer was already on life support. management issue. structural failure. not your fault.
yeah.
solid plan.
you slip the printed pages into a neat folder, tucking the thicker stack of contracts under your arm as you make your way back to heeseung's office. he definitely wasn't going to expect you back so soon.
you reach the door, and it's pretty much silent inside. well, besides for the loud ass typing sounding from heeseung's keyboard, you presume.
you hesitate for half a second, then knock. the typing doesn’t stop, of course it doesn’t.
you push the door open anyway.
heeseung is right where you left him, seated at his desk, sleeves slightly rolled up now, eyes fixed on his monitor.
you clear your throat.
"sir, the printer's out of ink again." you say, gently placing a stack of papers on heeseung's desk - half printed.
heeseung barely looks up from his laptop. "mm," his fingers continue gliding across the keyboard smoothly.
those fingers were the same ones you fantasized touching you all over.
"did you try replacing the cartridge?" he says, like it's the most obvious thing in the world.
you stare at him flatly, "no, i just thought i'd announce it for fun."
that finally earns you a glance. bingo.
it's a slow one too, heeseung's eyes lift from his monitor screen to your face, his features showing how he currently feels - which is clearly unimpressed. "you're acting very sarcastic for someone who's asking for my help."
despite the attitude, you're reminded once again why you don't mind that your boss to overwork you. even if he isn't smiling at you, the warm feeling in your gut that usually appears when you talk to him is definitely present.
you recover quickly, though, because you have practice.
"i'm not asking for help," you say, lifting the small stack slightly. "i already did it. technically."
heeseung's gaze drops to the papers again, then back to you. he pats the empty space on the table. "put them down." his tone is calm, matter-of-fact, like he already expects you to listen. which, annoyingly, you do. he was your boss, after all.
you walk over and place the papers where he indicated, careful not to let the half-printed pages slide out of order. heeseung immediately pulls the stack closer, flipping through them with quick, practiced movements.
you shift your weight slightly as he scans the faded text on one of the pages, flipping through the papers.
"..this one's unreadable." he says flatly, not even looking at you.
you chew your lip nervously, "in my defence, we all told you the printer was barely working."
you hate how much you get off from this.
seriously. nothing turns you on more than your annoyed boss, always looking unimpressed no matter what actually comes out of your mouth.
most people would probably be intimidated by him, but you enjoy poking fun at him. probably because every now and then, you manage to crack through that perfect composure for half a second.
it’s addictive, honestly. even if he never actually flirts back.
he mostly just stares at you like you’re a problem he hasn’t figured out how to solve yet.
any normal person would’ve probably gotten embarrassed by now, maybe they would’ve stopped after the first few failed attempts at flirting with their boss, but it's not like heeseung even acknowledges your attempts, anyway. there's almost nothing to be embarrassed about.
heeseung just shakes his head softly, setting the papers back down onto the desk before reaching up to loosen and readjust his tie slightly. "it's late," he says calmly, "go home."
that snaps you back to reality, and you have to hide the disappointment that you feel from his words. why must he always look at you like you're the least attractive person in the room?
this was lee heeseung, your boss. you don’t even know what you expected. for him to flirt back? after months of him pretending not to notice every teasing comment you throw his way?
you clear your throat quietly, composing yourself once again. "..what about the contracts?"
"…what about the contracts?"
"i’ll handle them." heeseung nods, looking down at his watch.
"alone?"
he glances back at the papers, "you already stayed late."
you stare at him for a second. no way the boss that constantly forced you to work over time was showing concern.
you try to recover with humour instead. "wow. are you worried about me, sir?"
there’s a pause before heeseung’s gaze lifts to yours again, completely unreadable. he looks upset - yes! this is exactly what you were hoping for. that heeseung would be angry enough to just bend you across his lap and-
"go home," he repeats.
ouch. okay.
"right. goodnight, sir." you say, nodding your head.
you bow politely out of habit, keeping your expression carefully neutral even as embarrassment starts creeping up your neck. he doesn't say anything back even as you walk out of his office.
the second time is all thanks to jake, to be honest.
"so, how was overtime last night?" jake asks, sitting across from you as the two of you eat lunch in the office lunch room. there was practically nobody else there. the two of you decided on a later lunch because you wanted to finish a project before the day got away from you.
you raise an eyebrow, pausing mid-bite. "why are you, asking me that?" you don't hide the way you emphasise the 'you', because everybody knew that jake was actually heeseung's favourite employee, and unfortunately for you, his close friend too.
jake blinks innocently, "what's that meant to mean?"
you lean back slightly in your chair, squinting at him. "you know exactly what that means." you clear your throat, trying not to make it obvious that you clearly care a lot about this. "..did heeseung say something?"
his expression shifts, mirroring you as he leans back in his chair slowly, stretching his legs out under the table. "why would heeseung say something?"
"oh, don't play dumb with me now, jake." you scoff, flicking your food with your fork.
you stare at him, and he stares back. you immediately hate how calm he looks.
"…because you’re asking me about overtime," you say flatly, deciding to say it outright because he's clearly beating around the bush.
"i ask people about overtime all the time."
"no you don't, jake."
"yes i do."
he sighs dramatically, like you were being the difficult one. "fine. i asked because jay mentioned you were still here after nine."
of course he did. you pinch the bridge of your nose. "this office is just one big surveillance system, apparently.'" you poke around at your food again, "it's always something with you two. oh, and i can't forget sunghoon as well." you say, internally rolling your eyes at the thought of them.
"that's not true." jake defends himself, taking offense to being labelled as someone who gossips, even though it was true.
you raise an eyebrow, unconvinced. "are you trying to convince me, or yourself, jake?"
he pauses, leaning back in his chair like he’s deeply wounded by the accusation. “wow. you're being very intense today."
"what did heeseung say, jake?" you crumble, holding your face in your hands. thank god the room was empty aside for you two, because you looked like you were about to go insane.
there’s a long pause, and it's way too long for your liking especially.
when you peek through your fingers, jake is watching you with a look that's way too entertained about your misery.
"okay," you scoff. "fuck you then."
"..why are you acting like he confessed something dramatic?" he asks slowly, taking another bite of his food.
"because you're being especially ominous about it all." you deadpan. "be honest, did he shit talk me? is he gonna fire me-"
"what?" jake nearly chokes on his drink.
you immediately sit up straighter. "oh my god. he is, isn’t he."
he’s pausing. why is he pausing? people only pause when they’re calculating how bad the truth is. you knew you should've just taken the lift to the other department's floor and used their printer, but no - you were lazy and despite being in the presence of your insanely hot boss, you still wanted to go home earlier last night.
"no, no, what? he isn't firing you." jake reassures.
you narrow your eyes. "that pause was too long."
"i was chewing."
liar. people don’t chew like that when they’re innocent. that was a guilty chew.
"liar."
jake laughs under his breath, shaking his head like you’re exhausting but entertaining.
"answer the question." you say sternly, reminding him of the subject at hand.
if he says yes, you're quitting - no questions asked. you're not letting heeseung win. you will resign before you can feel formally embarrassed by your boss and a dumbass printer. fuck the printer, by the way.
he leans back, finally giving you something resembling seriousness. “he didn’t shit talk you.”
"..he didn't?"
"no. i'm serious."
you blink, slowly putting your fork down. "okay," you say carefully, "so, what did he say then?"
jake finishes swallowing any food in his mouth before he speaks again, watching you like he's deciding how much damage he wants to do. "he just asked if you were always like that."
"always like what?" you furrow your eyebrows, confused. always like what? in the way you were a shameless flirt? or was he asking because now he thought you were completely incapable of finishing a simple work task. well, it wasn't a simple task, to be fair.
jake shrugs, "his words, not mine."
"jake," you clutch your skirt with your now empty hand. "you're being extremely unhelpful right now."
"how can i help?" jake grins as he takes another bite of food, "i'm telling you everything i know."
"it's not enough," you whine slightly, straightening your posture. you hate how pathetic that sounded the second it left your mouth.
before he can respond, a loud crack of thunder suddenly echoes outside the building. both of you glance instinctively toward the large windows lining the break room. rain patters heavily against the glass a second later.
"okay well, shit." you sigh. the rain is heavy too, not even the drizzle type. it's heavy. your co-workers that had already left were so lucky that they wouldn't have to go home in this weather.
"i didn’t bring an umbrella," you mumble immediately, making jake look back at you with absolutely zero sympathy.
"unlucky." he shrugs, leaning back. "i have one though, we can go home together if you'd like."
"..are you going to the station afterward?" you ask, and he nods.
"why don't you just ask him?' jake suggests, bringing the focus back to your conversation. the way he acted made it seem like it was the most normal thing ever.
"ask him what, jake? ask my boss if he's talking about me?" you shake your head. "okay, whatever."
you don’t even know why you care this much. logically, this should not matter. your boss asking one vague question about you should not have your entire nervous system reacting like this.
"so, how's your day been?" you ask, shitfing the subject. jake looks at you.
jake looks at you, blankly. "..we've been together the whole day."
oh right. you two have been stuck doing that stupid project heeseung assigned you both. honestly, you’re surprised neither of you snapped first because that was treacherous. pages and pages of data entry, revisions, formatting issues, and enough spreadsheets to the point that if you saw another one, you'd actually go insane.
right on cue, the break room doors swing open.
both you and jake glance up automatically, though jake twists around in his chair more obviously than you do, considering his back was facing the door.
your posture straightens on instinct, a smile forming onto your face. you don't even realise that you're doing it till jake turns around, a stupid grin forming on his face at your expression.
you clear your throat quickly, forcing the smile down into something more normal. meanwhile, heeseung either doesn’t notice, or pretends not to. both are bad, to be honest.
heeseung walks further into the break room calmly, phone still in one hand as his gaze flicks briefly between you and jake seated together.
"why are you two here so late? your day should be over." he asks casually.
jake glances at the clock on the wall before looking back at him. "we lost track of time doing the project you assigned us."
"sounds like poor time management," heeseung replies immediately, making jake laugh.
you straighten slightly in your chair. "we didn’t ‘lose track of time,’ we were literally fixing the spreadsheet you gave us because half the formulas were broken."
heeseung's gaze shifts to you, then he glances briefly to the windows, taking in the rain. then back at the two of you. he doesn't even acknowledge that you defended yourself.
"jake," he says, voice returning to business immediately, "i still need the revised figures before tomorrow morning."
"yeah," jake nods, giving heeseung a thumbs up. "i was gonna stay back another hour and finish it."
your head turns toward him immediately, "..you were?"
"yeah," he says simply. "it’ll take another hour max."
heeseung hums once in acknowledgment before his eyes shift back to you, 'which means," he starts, "you can go home."
your brain pauses for a second. just you? heeseung wanted you out so bad, you sort of felt honoured. "i can stay too," you blurt out, offering before thinking.
both men look at you. jake looks confused and heeseung looks unreadable. you internally slam your head into the table.
why did you say that so fast. oh my god.
"there’s no reason for both of you to stay," heeseung says calmly. "you already finished your part."
"she's going home with me," jake speaks up, also standing up to rinse his container in the sink. heeseung raises an eyebrow, and jake notices.
"what?" jake asks innocently, turning the tap off. "it’s raining. she doesn't have an umbrella."
heeseung pauses before he looks directly at you, "you didn’t bring one?"
you suddenly feel strangely defensive. "the forecast said it was only gonna be cloudy." jake snorts next to you, and you
heeseung stays quiet for a second longer. his expression is unreadable, before he exhales softly through his nose, like he’s already regretting whatever thought just crossed his mind. "..you don’t need to wait for jake."
you raise an eyebrow, turning your head to look at heeseung front-on, who looks mildly inconvenienced by his own words already. "i’m driving anyway," he says flatly. "i can take you home."
a spike hits your heart, and you feel oddly flattered. because realistically, who wouldn’t react a little when their super attractive boss offers to drive them home? especially when said boss happens to be wearing your favourite tie from his rotation today. which you are aware he didn't do on purpose.
your eyes landed on it this morning, maybe lingered a little. the deep colour looked unfairly good against his dress shirt, sleeves still rolled neatly at his forearms from working late. you could only imagine those same arms around your neck later-
wait, you still needed to reply to heeseung. you clear your throat quickly. "you don’t have to-"
"i know," heeseung cuts in smoothly, which hits at your spirits for a moment, but then your mood lifts again anyway, a stupid smile threatening to tug at your lips before you can stop it. because now it sounds less like obligation and more like choice, or, you could just keep telling yourself that.
jake nods, a little too excitedly. "okay, that's fine with me." he presses his lips together, visibly trying not to blurt out something obnoxious.
heeseung glances over to you, "go get your stuff. we're leaving." he says, using his chin to gesture toward the door.
'we're leaving'? not, 'meet me downstairs' or 'i'll wait downstairs., but he's saying we're leaving together.
"okay.." you answer, way quieter than intended.
jake offers you a knowing smile, "drive safe," he says, looking directly at you instead of heeseung.
you're going to strangle him. heeseung either ignores the weird tone completely or chooses not to acknowledge it. you stand quickly before jake can make this worse, grabbing your phone from the table and adjusting your bag over your shoulder.
"finish your work," you mutter at him while passing by.
jake grins shamelessly. "have fun."
you barely make it two steps out of the break room before you become hyper aware of the fact that heeseung is following behind you. probably to his office, it was right next to your cubicle after all.
act normal, why are you suddenly forgetting how to walk. you facepalm internally, you've literally been alone with him before. this is fine.
the hallway feels longer than it needs to. you finally reach the row of cubicles, the familiar maze of monitors and dividers coming into view. you can that your desk is just ahead.
you step inside, grabbing your bag, which is next to your computer. you can feel heeseung's presence behind you, standing outside the cubicle. you grab your things quickly, shoving them into your bag with slightly more force than necessary. guess he already got all of this things and was ready to leave.
you finally straighten, turning around. "okay! i'm ready." heeseung doesn't even blink at your enthusiasm, turning around and walking toward the elevator.
"let's go." he says simply.
you catch up slightly, trailing after him. the elevator is ahead, reflecting both of you in the metal, slightly distorted. he presses the button, and the doors open immediately. the two of you walk in.
you step in first, instinctively moving to one side, and he follows right after you. it's silent and uncomfortable.
you clear your throat slightly. "..long day?" you say, immediately regretting how weak that sounds.
heeseung’s reflection in the doors shifts slightly as he glances at you.
"it was." he agrees simply, not saying anything else. awkward. a small smile tugs at your lips when you see heeseung in the reflection.
the elevator hits the floor to the carpark, the doors slide open to reveal the dimly lit carpark.
"you’re always this quiet after work?" you ask lightly, stepping out of the elevator doors as you walk toward his car.
he glances at you briefly. "you’re always this talkative?"
you grin immediately. "only around people i like." the response slips out smoother than expected, and yet he doesn't say anything back, holy airball. you can hear both your footsteps echoing softly through the near-empty carpark.
heeseung’s lips slightly curl up in a smile, but it disappears basically the second it appears. he rounds what you assume to be his car, and honestly you couldn’t name the brand, but you admit it looked expensive.
you stop beside the passenger side for a second, eyeing it openly. "wow."
heeseung glances at you while unlocking the doors with a soft beep.
"what?"
"your car looks rich." you say, in awe. you reach for the passenger seats door handle, sliding in. the seats are soft, and the car is noticeably clean. the only thing you can smell is a light tinge of his cologne.
heeseung just reaches forward to adjust something near the dashboard, entirely calm. "seatbelt."
you obey, arm reaching over your upper body to grab your seatbelt. the movement pulls your blouse slightly at the shoulder as you tug it across yourself, the quiet click sounding through the car once it locks into place.
you glance over, and heeseung is watching - as if he was making sure you were actually putting it on.
you narrow your eyes at him immediately. "were you expecting me not to?"
heeseung rests one hand against the steering wheel, expression calm. "no."
you scoff, "liar."
he hums softly, finally pulling the car out of the parking space smoothly. "you asked."
"and yet you answered dishonestly." you poke the inside of your mouth with your tongue, glancing out the window.
"i answered you professionally."
narrowing your eyes, "that isn’t even the same thing."
he stifles a laugh, but you notice before he can conceal it, making your stomach flip on instinct.
you slump further in the seat, only now realising the proximity of the two of you. the car feels way smaller than what it did just minutes ago.
glancing back over to him, you see how one hand rests loosely against the steering wheel while the other adjusts the wheel slightly as he turns out onto the wet street. that was like, the hottest thing you’d seen all week.
it feels intimate despite the fact that he’s just driving you home.
wait.
you forgot to give him your address yet he’s still going the right way.
blinking, your posture straightens almost immediately, shuffling back upright in your seat. "..wait."
heeseung keeps his eyes on the road. "what?"
you look directly at him, "how do you know where i live?"
there’s a small pause, before heeseung clears his throat. "your employee file."
you narrow your eyes instantly. "that sounds creepy when you say it like that."
"it’s literally HR information."
"okay, but why do you know it?" you ask, raising an eyebrow.
"i’m your boss."
"that does not answer my question at all."
a faint sigh leaves him through his nose, like you’re being difficult on purpose.
which, okay, maybe you are.
"you’ve worked under me for almost a year," he says calmly. "i know where most of my employees live."
you stare at him suspiciously.
"..do you have everyone’s addresses memorised?"
"no."
"just mine?"
that finally earns you momentary glance, but he looks back to the road a second after. "you’re asking a lot of questions."
"well, only because you aren’t answering the one i actually want answered." you say, shifting slightly in your seat.
rain continues tapping steadily against the windows, soft wipers cutting through the sound every few seconds. heeseung sighs once again, "fine, which one is that?"
you stare at him for a second, trying to hide your suspicion. "you know which one."
"humour me."
he’s doing this on purpose.
you can hear it in his voice now, he sounds so composed. heeseung makes another left turn, the way you remember taking to your house.
"why do you know where i live specifically?" you ask, quieter this time. not that you mind. if it were anyone else, maybe it'd be a little creepy - yeah, but heeseung was welcome over at anytime.
the red light flashes briefly onto his face as he slows down, you take in his pretty features.
"because," he says evenly, "you're usually the last person to leave the office." your stomach does cart wheels at his answer, even if it’s the simplest thing you’ve ever heard.
you try to hide the fattest grin that tries to force itself onto your face. "..you notice that?" you can’t stop yourself from asking.
"you make it difficult not to." if it were anyone else, you’d take that as flirting, but heeseung’s tone is so flat, that if you actually did take it as flirting then you’d need to be admitted to the nearest psych ward for delusion.
so you don’t, even if you want to. you stare out the window instead, watching rain streak across the glass, "are you saying i’m a difficult employee?"
"that isn’t what i said."
"but it’s what you meant, right?"
he exhales softly through his nose, barely a sound. you catch it anyway. the car moves smoothly through the wet streets, indicator ticking quietly as he changes lanes.
heeseung continues, "you stay late."
you glance at him again. "so do other people."
"not consistently."
"that’s because you don’t give anyone else the annoying projects." you argue back, before realising. "does that mean you’re keeping track of when i leave?" you sound a little too hopeful, it’s pathetic.
"it’s part of my job to know what’s happening in my department." he says flatly, shutting that idea down immediately.
you sigh softly, what a boring answer.
heeseung slows down the the familiar streets, and your apartment complex comes into view. heeseung eases the car toward the side of the road rather than pulling straight in.
he stops smoothly, gently turning the wheel as the engine quiets down. you grab your bag, unbuckling your seatbelt. "thank you, i really appreciate it." you’re about to grab onto the door handle, but heeseung halts your movements - grabbing your wrist.
it isn’t tight or forceful, just enough to make you pause. you blink at him, "..what?"
he doesn’t answer immediately. instead, his gaze flicks briefly toward the rain outside, then back to you. with his other hand, he reaches into the backseat pulling out…
an umbrella.
black. simple. clearly kept in the car for situations exactly like this.
he had one the whole time?
"take it." he pushes it toward you, before leaning over your body and opening the door for you. you unclasp the umbrella, turning back.
"good night." you smile, and heeseung nods.
"good night."
you thank him again before holding it over your head and walking into the entrance of your apartment building.
okay but, he had an umbrella the whole time and yet he insisted on taking you home. well, insisted is a stretch but he offered.
that had to mean something.
you had hoped, at least.
the third time you tried flirting with your boss, it was completely unintentional. in the way you weren't even trying to seek him out this time, at least. you were planning that for later.
yes, you had worn an extra nice outfit that day because you wanted to catch his attention. not that it worked, it never did. you don't even know what made you try again.
it starts like a normal morning. no heeseung ordering you around this time. which in hindsight, should've been a bad sign. no emails, no urgent requests, and no heeseung appearing behind your desk randomly - before giving you a stack of papers.
you clock in, sit down, open your laptop as minutes fly by in what feels like seconds. you're at your desk, half-awake as you scroll through your emails, when a voice pops up at your cubicle.
"hey." sunoo is leaning slightly against the divider, smiling at you in that friendly way he usually does.
you sit up, leaning back against your chair, "what's up?"
sunoo and you don't even try being formal with each other now, it's been a while since the two of you met. "before you ask," he starts, already dropping a stack of papers onto your desk, "yes, this is your problem now."
you glance at the pile, "seriously?"
sunoo laughs softly, resting his forearms on the divider. "it's just some missing formatting stuff from yesterday’s file. i fixed half of it but I got dragged into a meeting."
"wowow," you sigh, skimming over the papers. "you owe me."
"i owe you?" sunoo repeats, tilting his head softly.
"yes," you nod, looking up at him. "this is so much work, sunoo. i'm busy."
"busy doing what? you were scrolling emails and pretending to work," he corrects, making you glare up at him. "god forbid i actually give you to work to do."
"yeah, but it's your responsibility - not mine." you argue back.
sunoo shifts slightly, leaning more comfortably against the divider like he has nowhere else to be. like your desk is just part of his routine. "fine," he says. "we're still on for lunch, right? you're not ditching me for jake again?"
"that wasn't intentional. i had to finish my project, you know that." you don't hesitate defending yourself.
"yeah, yeah." sunoo smiles, his tone condescending like he doesn't actually believe in what you say.
you open your mouth to retaliate, because you refuse to allow yourself to be slandered this early in the morning, but sunoo interrupts. "why're you dressed so fancy today, hm? your blouse looks expensive."
you pause, glancing down at yourself. "in a good way, right?"
"yes, of course." sunoo states obviously, "how can you look expensive in a bad way?"
you ignore his question, "..really?"
sunoo nods immediately. "yes really. you look like you’re about to leave us for a better company."
you hum, pretending to think about it, smoothing your sleeve once like you’re just noticing it exists. "hmm."
"what is it this time?" sunoo sighs, making you scoff.
"bold of you to assume there's an issue, sunoo."
he narrows his eyes at you. "there is an issue. you’re doing that thing where you pretend you’re not doing something."
"what does that even mean?"
"you're overdressed." sunoo spits it out, taking in your outfit.
you tap the edge of the stack of papers on your desk, suddenly very interested in the alignment of the corners. "this is my normal everyday outfit, but okay."
sunoo’s gaze drags over you again, shaking his head. "that's not normal, you can't fool me."
you blink. "excuse you?"
"that blouse is not ‘normal.’ that’s ‘i have plans after work’ clothing."
"..i might have plans," you admit casually, lying out of your teeth. you had zero plans after work today. the most you were planning on doing was hopping on the game after dinner.
oh, but you wished you had plans. you wished your plans revolved around overtime, where you'd crawl underneath heeseung's desk and give them the most toe-curling blowjob any man has ever received.
sunoo’s eyes widen a fraction. "you do?"
you shrug. "hypothetically."
he leans in a little, lowering his voice. "with who?"
this little nosy rat. at least sunoo kept his mouth shut, though. had you told jake and the entire workplace would've heard about it by now.
you open your mouth, but then stop. familiar footsteps sound, and they're getting closer toward you.
heeseung walks into the view beside your cubicle, holding a folder in his hand. he looks at sunoo, who's still leaning casually against your divider, then at you, in which you offer a sheepish smile.
"good morning, heeseung." sunoo chirps, pulling his gaze away from you to greet heeseung. heeseung's eyes briefly flick from sunoo to you, then back to sunoo in almost under a second.
"good morning." he replies finally, but his tone is entirely flat.
sunoo, who is still undeterred, smiles wider. "busy day today?"
"yes," heeseung glances at the folder in his hand. "aren't you scheduled for a meeting that.." he pauses, looking at his watch before his eyes lift back up to sunoo, "started three minutes ago?"
sunoo blinks, offering heeseung a sheepish smile. then he straightens abruptly, like he just remembered that urgency is a concept. "oh, right. that's me."
you watch, barely holding in a reaction, as he takes one step, then another. "see you at lunch!" he calls back way too brightly, before turning his body entirely as he speeds down the hallway.
the silence is loud again, or it feels like it - despite your co-workers being occupied with chatting as well as the soft clatter of keyboards.
you blink once at the empty space sunoo was occupying a second ago, seeing heeseung just standing beside your cubicle with the folder in hand, expression unreadable as ever.
why must he look at you like you're some outdated fashion trend?
"was that necessary?" you ask lightly, nodding vaguely in the direction sunoo disappeared.
he doesn’t even look that way. "yes," he replies, "he was distracting you, and he was late to his own meeting." you shrug in response.
heeseung calls out your name, making you look up at him with a soft hum. "yeah?"
his eyes flick briefly to you, handing you another fuckass folder. it's heavy too, filled with enough paper to ruin your morning. you begrudgingly hold back the urge to roll your eyes. you swore on everyone's life that heeseung assigned you the most heinous roles known to man.
yes, your boss was hot, but was he hot enough for you to suffer at work everyday? yeah, probably, actually. you don't even know why you bothered questioning that.
you glance at him, still holding the folder between your fingers. "are you trying to torture me to death? because it's working."
"it's work," he says simply, "don't get distracted."
you squint at him, "it's killing me, heeseung."
that earns you a soft smile that lasts for literally 0.2 seconds. heeseung taps the folder once with two fingers, "organise it like the last one you did." he adds.
you sigh dramatically. "you know, most bosses say ‘good morning’ first."
“good morning.” heeseung mumbles, making you tilt your head.
"that was still late."
"those files you're going to organise are about to be late too if you keep talking."
you clutch the folder tighter. "they won't-
but he’s already turning slightly away like the conversation is over.
"bring it to my office when you're done." heeseung says like it's an afterthought, back turned to you.
you freeze slightly. "again?"
he pauses just long enough to glance back at you. "again." and with that, he's gone, walking down the aisle back into his office.
rude, but fine. you had worn your shortest skirt, hoping heeseung would at least spare a glance toward you. a glance that didn't involve him assigning even more work with the flick of his wrist.
now you had to spend another three hours filling out stupid spreadsheets, or whatever was actually in this folder. you sigh, flipping open the page.
the fourth time you flirted with your boss, it’s because he called you into his office just to wordlessly fix his tie before a meeting.
you patter your knuckles against the door of heeseung's office gently. "sir?" using your free hand, you adjust and smooth the lines out of your skirt.
when there isn't a response, you open the door gently. that's usually what that meant, anyway. it was a usual for the two of you.
you step inside, taking in his office once again. his office is neat in that way that feels slightly scary. everything's been placed with intention, nothing out of place. he’s standing by his desk, jacket on, tie slightly uneven.
it isn't that noticeable, you just tend to stare at him a lot. heeseung doesn’t look at you right away.
you clear your throat softly, catching your attention. "you called for me?"
he turns to you, features conveying a look of frustration. "fix this." he says only two words with zero explanation, but you understand almost immediately.
you blink, "..your tie?"
heeseung looks at you like you've asked him something obvious. "yes."
you hesitate, but realise he's the one who asked. you step forward, because apparently this is your job now.
you reach up carefully, fingers catching the knot of his tie. it’s already half done, like he rushed it or did it without caring.
you start by undoing it, re-aligning it entirely. heeseung's gaze drops, not to your face, but to your hands - watching your every move. you feel an immediate shift in the air.
"this feels like something you could do yourself." you murmur, trying hard not to mess his tie up as you keep the mood light.
"..i don't actually know how to tie a tie." heeseung admits, making your hands stop.
you glance up at him, "what?"
heeseung doesn’t even look embarrassed. if anything, he looks mildly inconvenienced at having admitted it out loud. "i never learned," he says simply.
"you're actually lying."
"i’m not."
"heeseung, you wear a tie almost every day." you say, genuinely flabbergasted.
"someone usually does it for me."
you squint your eyes, confused on 'who' this could possibly be. was he actually wifed up and this whole time you had been flirting with a married man? that made sense as to why he would never reciprocate. or maybe he just wasn't into you.
no but, if he was married you'd definitely know. there was no way jay or jake wouldn't have brought it up by now.
"..someone?" you mumble quietly, trying to keep this casual.
"stylists. assistants." he pauses. "sometimes jake."
oh thank god. he was the most single somebody could be, for sure. you smooth your expression immediately, pretending the question meant absolutely nothing, just professional curiosity.
you nearly laugh directly in his face, but you hold back for your own sake. you weren't trying to be assigned the workload of the entire team. "oh my god."
heeseung watches you carefully now, expression still composed, but there’s the faintest hint of annoyance underneath it. "what?"
"nothing," you say immediately, absolutely lying. "it’s just very hard to process that you don’t know how to tie a tie."
"you seem to be deeply affected by this."
"i am." you tighten the knot properly, smoothing the fabric down again. "this changes my entire perception of you."
"you're being dramatic," heeseung says making you scoff, but the sound comes out weaker than actually intended because you suddenly become aware of how close you are to him, catching the faint scent of cologne every time he exhales.
your fingers are still curled loosely around the fabric of his tie, brushing against the collar of his shirt as you straighten it carefully. your heel shifts slightly against the floor as you try not to think about the fact that if you tilted your head up even a little more, you'd be directly in his space.
which, technically, you already are, but like, you'd actually be able to kiss him. your eyes linger on his lips for way too long, and he definitely notices. heeseung's gaze shifts downwards, catching yours in the process. you smile, and he looks away, jaw tightening once as his eyes move toward the window beside his desk instead.
heeseung has never been the one to shy away like that. usually he'd just ignore all of your advances. your fingers tighten around the tie accidentally before you let go completely, stepping back casually.
you got a reaction from him this time.
"..done?" he asks, and you nod.
"mhm." you hum. heeseung finally looks back at you, one hand lifting to adjust the knot slightly where your fingers had just touched.
your gaze lifts again, and heeseung sighs quietly through his nose, like you’re the most exhausting part of his workday. "i have a meeting in five minutes."
"and?" you lean against his table lightly, smiling at him innocently.
"and you should go back to work."
"wow," you murmur dramatically. "using me for my tie-abilities and then discarding me?"
"you’re still on company time." he mumbles, but you don't miss the flush on his cheeks.
bingo! your boss really was into you. it isn't obvious, not in the way you were hoping for, not some dramatic giveaway, but it's definitely there if you're paying attention.
and you are absolutely paying attention.
you tilt your head slightly, practically screaming 'fuck me' eyes, watching him with a type of satisfaction you don't bother hiding. "you know," you say softly, "you’re really bad at hiding things."
heeseung's eyes flick up immediately, and you can practically see him having heart palpitations. who knew your stone-cold boss would fold over something as easy as that?
"go back to your desk," he dismisses you again, steadier this time. when he sees you inching closer, he does a complete one-eighty as he speed walks out of his own office.
your jaw drops. what the fuck?? heeseung, get back here!
you don't bother chasing though. now that you knew how heeseung truly felt, you had him wrapped around your finger.
he had it coming.
the next day you walk into the office, it's a friday.
which is usually a good day. lighter workloads, less tension, and maybe even the rare sight of your colleagues having fun before going home for the weekend.
and you of all people were going to have a good day. heeseung wasn't slipping from your hands again. not when you were going to actively pursue him in the actual shortest skirt you owned. not after the tie incident.
you're halfway through the lobby, eyes half focused on your phone as you scroll through unread notifications, when-
bang!
you nearly let out a blood curdling scream.
your entire body jolts violently as you whip around toward the source of the noise.
jungwon is standing near the reception desk, holding a stack of papers, looking mildly alarmed. the metal sign knocked straight onto the floor was the source of the noise.
when he notices you looking, he offers a smile and a wave. "good morning!"
you stare at him in complete disbelief, one hand pressed against your chest. "jungwon," you speak slowly, "you scared me, holy shit."
his eyebrows lift, "from a sign falling?"
"it's metal! it sounded like a gunshot." you walk over, bending down to pick it up.
jungwon crouches slightly too, reaching for the other side. "you're being dramatic."
before you can argue further, footsteps pass behind the two of you.
"cute skirt."
you whip your head around, glancing up instinctively. sunghoon is walking past with an iced coffee in one hand, slowing just enough to glance at you over his shoulder.
your brain malfunctions for a second, "..ah. thanks." you offer him a smile. at least someone thought you looked nice.
sunghoon gestures vaguely toward you with the coffee cup, "the colour suits you." then he walks off, heading into the direction of the cubicles.
you straighten slowly, still holding the metal sign. "wow."
jungwon looks between you and sunghoon’s disappearing figure, before landing back on you finally. "what happened to bagging the boss?"
you narrow your eyes at jungwon, patting down said cute skirt, "what are you talking about?"
jungwon smirks smugly. it would be adorable if it weren't in circumstances like this. "you should've known better than to tell jake and jay.
your stomach drops instantly. "..they told you?"
"they told everyone."
your jaw drops. what the hell?? you were going to kill park jongseong and sim jaeyun as soon as you found those two. "what are they even saying? and who have they told?"
jungwon laughs at your expression, putting down the stack of papers on the reception desk. "relax. i was kidding." he reassures, "only like, a few people know."
he lifts his hand, counting on his fingers with each name.
"jake, jay, sunghoon, sunoo-oh! and that junior, ni-ki."
"..even the junior knows?" you want to collapse directly onto the lobby floor.
jungwon tilts his head. "to be fair, he figured it out by himself."
"literally, HOW?" you exclaim, frustrated. were you seriously that obvious around heeseung?
"uh, cause you stare like you're in some office k-drama? duh." he sasses, which you do not appreciate.
you scoff, "i do not."
jungwon shrugs, "okay, secretary kim."
you roll your eyes, “secretary kim ended up pulling young-joon, though. so is this a sign?”
“you wish.”
“okay, bet you $50 i can pull heeseung.” you declare, making jungwon raise his eyebrows in shock.
“okay, fine. $50.” you reach out your hand, shaking on it.
then, he straightens his posture and widens his eyes slightly in the worst imitation of you imaginable.
"..heeseung," he mocks your voice, pretending to be you. "wow..your tie looks really nice today.." he places a hand over his chest, "did you get a haircut? you look so handsome and emotionally unavailable this morning."
eyes widening, you clasp a hand over his mouth, effectively shutting him up. "oh my god - i do not talk like that."
"good morning." your entire body goes stiff. you remove your hand from jungwon's face, turning your head.
heeseung is standing there, watching the two of you with a blank face. apparently when jungwon was busy humiliating you, heeseung must've arrived to work. his expression is calm as ever, one hand resting loosely in his pocket while the other still holds his phone. heeseung was so hard to read like this.
you push a smile on your face, "morning, sir." heeseung's gaze travels from jungwon to you.
"..why do you look so stressed already?" he asks, voice flat.
jungwon physically bites the inside of his cheek to stop himself from laughing.
you point at him immediately. "he’s harassing me."
heeseung glances over to jungwon with an expression that screams 'i don't believe her whatsoever', so you expect a scolding.
but no.
"jungwon."
jungwon straightens immediately, "yes?"
heeseung's tone stays flat, "you’re not on break."
jungwon blinks in surprise, "i'm literally just talking-"
"you’re supposed to be at reception processing those files," he cuts in, nodding once toward the stack still sitting on the desk. "not standing here causing problems before nine a.m."
hooray! heeseung actually took your side.
jungwon looks betrayed instantly. "i am processing them." his gaze flicks to you, and you stick your tongue out.
jungwon notices immediately, shaking his head like he's re-thinking his life choices. he tightens his grip on the stack of files. "unbelievable." with that, he turns away, walking off.
you're silently cheering in your head when heeseung turns to you next. "you aren't on break either," he nods his chin toward the elevator, "go work."
you pout, "but sir, i have nothing to do."
heeseung looks like he's about to scold you for the use of 'sir', but he doesn't. "you always have something to do," he says simply.
"nope." you shake your head, "jay and i finished the meeting pack preparation." you flash him a smile, way too enthusiastic for someone at work.
you look down for a second, remembering you're wearing the skirt. yoy glance back up, analysing his face. come on, heeseung. at least acknowledge it!
his eyes flick down for half a second, but it's not enough for you to read his expression. "..good." he coughs slightly, clearing his throat. "go help ni-ki, then."
your lips straighten in a frown. "seriously?"
"serious as i can be." you stare at him, and he stares back.
"go. he needs help with formatting." with a huff, you nod.
"fine, fine. see you, sir." you smile, walking past him. behind you, heeseung exhales a sigh of relief through his nose. this was going to be a long day.
when you reach the far end of the office, the atmosphere is completely different from the loud lobby. it's quiet, the kind of quiet that makes every keyboard click sound louder than it should. you can even hear your flats click against the floor with each step.
you scan the desks. ni-ki is lazily seated sideways in an office chair, one leg bouncing softly against the floor, eyes fixed on the monitor.
he doesn't even look at you. "if this is about the formatting issue again, i already fixed it three times." okay, sassy.
you pause beside his desk. "wow," you say. "thanks for the warm welcome."
ni-ki glances up, properly this time. his expression shifts immediately, a slight tinge of confusion before recognition. "oh, you're the help."
"you don't seem very happy to see me." wheeling a nearby chair over, you sit next to him.
he leans back slightly, squinting at you, "trust me. i'm glad it's you and not someone else."
you raise an eyebrow, "oh, spill?"
ni-ki leans down, then tilts his head toward the rest of the office, lowering his voice slightly like it’s classified information or something. "..he sent jake last time, and he 'fixed' it by making it worse."
honestly, that sounded in character. jake was lazy when it came to spreadsheets. "seems like him." you shrug, "so, if you're so good at this, why does heeseung think you need help?"
"he doesn’t think i need help," he says.
you hum. "sounds like he does."
"no," ni-ki corrects, dragging a hand through his hair. "he thinks i need supervision."
"that's probably worst, in all honesty." you snort softly. "that sounds like a polite way of saying you ruin files."
ni-ki points at you immediately. "exactly. see? you get it."
"are you always at the back here? i never see you around front anymore."
"it's better around here. the only person who comes back here is sunoo." your eyes widen. so that's where sunoo kept disappearing off to."
you tap your chin in thought as ni-ki continues clicking through the spreadsheet.
"say, ni-ki." you call, making him glance up at you.
"what?"
you lean forward a little in your chair, "jungwon said something about you earlier."
ni-ki raises an eyebrow, but for the most part he looks uncaring. "said what?"
"keep it a secret." you hold out your pinky.
in which he rolls his eyes as he exhales through his nose like he's already tired of you, but he still shifts his chair a little closer. "you're weird," he mutters, but intertwines his pinky with yours, reluctantly.
you brighten immediately. "okay. so jungwon said you know things about me and heeseung."
"it's hard to miss." he says simply, "i just notice patterns."
you lean forward slightly, still keeping your pinkies linked, "okay then. what patterns?"
"well for starters," he says, "you’re the only one that doesn’t get in trouble for slacking."
you scoff immediately. "you must be joking."
ni-ki finally glances at you, expression flat. "i’m not."
you lean back in your chair slightly. "i literally got sent down here as punishment."
"yeah, and that's a punishment for you? he made me clean the entire storage room when i submitted something late." ni-ki's words make you pause. sure, you already knew heeseung was attracted to you, but special treatment too? awe.
you let go of ni-ki's pinky. "done?" he asks, finally glancing at you.
you clear your throat quickly, snapping back into focus. "right, yeah."
ni-ki shrugs. "it was dusty."
"that’s your takeaway?"
"i don’t like dust."
"fair."
"when are you meant to leave?"
you blink, "leave?"
"from here," he clarifies. "this task."
you glance at the spreadsheet. then back at him. "when it’s done."
he hums like it's obvious.
"take your time."
hours pass, and you've felt like you've been able to bond with your junior very well, actually. he was entertaining, and was great at multi-tasking. ni-ki was able to keep full-fledged conversations with you while he did his work.
even sunoo came over at some point, pulling up a chair as he sits down with the two of you.
working here was way better than in the cubicles with those idiots. you glance around the quieter section of the office. there are much fewer interruptions, less noise, no one hovering over your shoulder every five minutes. cough cough, jake.
you're mid-conversation with sunoo, standing behind him as the two of you watch something on the monitor together. it feels comfortable as the two of you laugh at something.
"no, wait, pause it again," you say, breathless. "i swear that’s not what he meant to do."
which is exactly why you don't notice the foot steps behind you. ni-ki notices, but you and sunoo don't, still obliviously talking. there's a call of sunoo's name that makes the two of you snap your head back.
sunoo straightens so fast, "oh hi, heeseung."
you slowly let your hands drop from the back of sunoo’s chair like you just got caught committing a crime.
"go home. the day's over, anyway." sunoo nods immediately, standing up as he walks back to his cubicle immediately. ni-ki exhales softly like he’s relieved it’s not him.
damn, you were getting a lot of people in trouble today. oops.
you take a small step back too, ready to follow sunoo back to your own cubicle.
heeseung takes one look at you, "you." he says simply.
you flash him a smile, "..me?"
"go to my office." he says, voice flat. is he mad?
you hesitate, but nod. "right… okay."
he walks past you, checking whatever's on ni-ki's monitor. probably double checking to see if everything's correct. you can hear heeseung dismiss ni-ki home too, eavesdropping. when you realise their conversation is over you speed-walk toward heeseung's office.
you see sunoo, and he waves you goodbye, mouthing a 'good luck'. you nod, waving to him as well. you can see heeseung's office door now. reaching it, you pause for a second. it's the same as usual - neat.
you step inside, closing the door behind you. you’re unsure of whether you should sit or stand. you opt on sitting, taking a seat on his chair.
you wait a few minutes, clicking your heel against the carpet gently. the office genuinely sounded dead outside. was heeseung just wasting your time?
you sigh, standing up and walking toward the door. your fingers curl around the knob, about to open it but it’s pushed open - nearly knocking you onto the floor.
heeseung stands in the doorway, face expressionless. he stares at you, before stepping inside and closing the door behind him.
"sir," you call out, pitching your voice up the slightest. “are you upset-“
“do you always have to open your mouth?” heeseung pinches the bridge of his nose, irritated. you blink in surprise, shutting your mouth.
once he opens his mouth and realises you’ve actually obeyed, he doesn’t say anything. taking a seat on his chair, he leans back.
“come here.” you look at him, and he looks dead serious. you nod, walking over. you’re standing in front of him now, a confused expression on your face.
heeseung looks up at you with a sigh. “bend over.” your eyes widen.
“what?”
“i said, bend over.” he taps his thigh once, and you get the idea. okay, sure. you move almost a little too eagerly, tripping on heeseung’s foot - but that was clearly planted there on purpose.
your knees hit the floor, definitely bruising as you let out a soft hiss of pain. “why-“
heeseung’s fingers grab your jaw, fingers digging into the skin of your cheeks as you kneel. “stop talking.”
you shut up, nodding. he lets go of your face, leaning back. “clean my shoe.”
your eyebrows furrows in confusion. clean his what? his shoe? with what, a handkerchief? you reach in your pocket, trying to find the small pack of tissues you keep but he nudges your arm with his foot. “with your mouth.”
oh. so he was kinky like that. you look at him, “..are you serious?”
heeseung stares back at you, gaze more intense than you’ve ever seen before. “does it look like i’m joking?” good point.
you don’t answer. instead, you kneel further down, opening your mouth as you lick the base of his shoe. that first swipe of your tongue sent shivers down your spine.
you gag a little in disgust, but then you remembered who the shoe belongs to. the hottest guy you’ve probably ever seen in your life.
so, you persevere, licking another stripe of his shoe, nearing the lace now. you glance up, and heeseung’s just staring down at you, face expressionless. “..did i say you were done?”
you shake your head, “..no, sir.” you lean back down, an embarrassed flush on your cheeks as you unfortunately lick his shoe again, tongue cleaning the side this time. in the worst way possible, you could literally feel your pussy clenching around nothing right now and it was because of the most degrading act ever.
after a few more swipes of your tongue, heeseung lets up. “stop.” you obey, sitting back up, hands on your knees as if waiting for his next command.
heeseung looks down at you, and you feel pathetic - a little. his gaze is scrutinising. he taps his thighs again, making your gaze avert to there. “sit.”
you stand up immediately, straddling his hips. you lean in for a kiss, but he swerves it. embarrassing.
heeseung says your name condescendingly, “you haven’t earnt that privilege.” you feel the wetness in your panties pool at that.
“..how can i?” you murmur, glancing at him.
“you can kiss me if you can make yourself cum just like this.” heeseung says, leaning back in his chair. you scoff, that was easy. just looking into his eyes could probably make you cum.
heeseung raises an eyebrow at your scoff, but you don’t elaborate. “..okay.” and so with that, you move your hips, grinding your clothed cunt right against his thigh. despite the fabric separating the two of you, the heat emanating from your core is unimaginable.
heeseung doesn’t touch you for the most part. his hand travels down your back, fingers tingling your spine as he looks at you, eyes dark. despite knowing you should feel embarrassed, you can’t. this is what you’ve been waiting for, after all.
as you keep grinding, you can feel his dick harden through his dress pants - heeseung refuses to acknowledge it though. you continue grinding, hands on his shoulders as you practically hump his thigh, begging for release.
you bury your face into his shoulder, panting into his ear. heeseung pushes your hair back, pressing open-mouthed kisses along the nape of your neck.
it’s when his hand travels further down your back and onto your ass. heeseung spanks your clothed butt once, and you orgasm just from that, letting out a soft moan. fingers tangle themselves in the back of your hair, pulling you away from his shoulder.
“there’s no way you came just from that.” heeseung mocks, almost holding back a laugh. you’re about to defend yourself, but heeseung speaks again. “but then again, we both know that this is what you wanted, right? to be bent over my desk like a cheap whore, desperate for me to fuck you?”
your cheeks heat up, hands pressing against his chest. “if i say yes, will you do exactly that?”
heeseung scoffs. “you seriously have no shame at all. get up.” you scramble to your feet, thighs shaky.
he stands up after you, bending you right over his desk. you whimper when your face hits his table a little roughly but it’s whatever. a hand trails down, going underneath your skirt. heeseung cups your pussy with his hand, shoving your panties to the side.
“you’re seriously this wet with this sort of treatment?” he sounds surprised, despite his tone still being flat. his hand delivers a sharp spank to your cunt, making you whimper softly.
leaning down, his mouth is next to your ear. “you seriously think i didn’t notice you wearing those tiny skirts all the time?” he roughly pushes your skirt up, slapping the fat of your ass hard. a pained moan leaves your lips.
“..you never said anything about it breaking dress-code, so i think you liked it.” you mumble out, grinning. he hits your rear again, wiping that smugness off your face instantly.
“so that means you dress like a whore for everyone to see?” heeseung mocks, tilting his head. “might as well show up to the entire office naked. i’m sure they’d all love to see that.” his palm strikes down again, making you choke. he hits hard, for sure.
“i was dressing like that for you-“ you stutter out, choking on a sob. “not anyone else.” heeseung yanks you back up with full force, holding your arms against your back. your back is pressed against his chest, making you dizzy at the proximity. this way you can feel his dick poking you through his pants.
“nobody asked you to do that though, did they?” he kisses your nape again.
you nod your head in agreement, “n-no, they didn’t.”
“good. are you finally learning your place?” heeseung’s hands travel down, going back underneath your skirt as he hooks his fingers on the waistband of your panties. he drags them down with ease, and you step out of them.
“i can.”
“you can?” heeseung mumbles behind you, fingers ghosting your slit. his index finger travels your entrance before finally pushing in - going knuckle deep immediately. you choke.
“i’m not giving you an option.” he sits back down on his chair, pulling you back onto his lap with him. he spreads your thighs with ease, before sliding another finger into your cunt.
“i think i’ve been way too lenient with you.” he whispers into your ear as he pumps his fingers in and out, his thumb circling your sensitive clit.
you let out a shaky breath, “h-how so?” a soft whimper leaves your lips when he hits the back of your walls. his fingers go a bit deeper, hitting your g-spot, and effectively making your toes curl. your walls are literally clenching onto his long digits, unable to let them go.
“well, for starters.” he shoves another finger in, making you squirm. “you act like you own the place, and how does that make me look as a boss?” with one more slide of his middle finger, you cream all over his wrist, your back arching into him.
“stupid slut.” he mumbles, “you’re seriously not good for anything apart from cumming, hm?” heeseung lets you rest on him as you catch your breath, kissing the side of your temple.
you pant, distracted. how has this man made you cum twice already? “y-yeah, not good for anything else..”
heeseung makes you stand, bending you back over his desk again. he lifts the back flap of your skirt, and you hear fabric rustling. he grabs your hands, pulling them against your back as he wraps something around them.
you turn your head and see him tying his tie around your wrists. you turn your head back, cheek flat against the wood of the table. there’s a sound of an unzip, and you feel the head of his cock press against your sopping cunt.
he’s sliding it against your slit, not penetrating it. “..what are you waiting for?” you turn around, frustrated. you try buck your hips back, in which heeseung spanks your ass, making you gasp in surprise.
“beg for it.” heeseung scoffs, making you whine.
“are you serious?” you groan. when there’s no respond from his end you know the answer. “please, please, fuck me.” heeseung doesn’t budge.
you try buck your hips back, but heeseung grabs both of your hips with his hands, crescents digging into the soft flesh making you whimper.
“sir, please fuck me. i’ll be a good girl, just please.” tears well up in your eyes from the frustration of the lack of freedom and movement.
the tip of heeseung’s dick slides smoothly across your slick folds, making you whine deliciously. one hand drops from your hip, and before you know it, you’re impaled onto his dick in one go, his pelvis flat against his ass. your cunt struggles with the intrusion, walls fluttering to accommodate his length. you don’t miss the whimper that leaves his lips when he buries himself to the hilt.
you choke, burying your face into the hard desk, which isn’t comforting at all. he pulls out halfway, before slamming back in - letting out a soft hiss at the sensation of your velvety walls around his shaft dragging him back in.
his fingers dig into the soft flesh of your ass, kneading roughly as he holds you flush against him. “..you’ve been such a needy little thing all week, haven't you?”
a hand wraps around your throat from behind, pulling you closer to him. “just begging for my attention. you’re pathetic.” his other hand moves to your hip, holding you in place as he starts thrusting again, each snap of his hips bruising the back of your thighs.
“c-cause you always ignore me,” you gasp out.
“ignore you? please. i’m giving you exactly what you deserve.” he punctuates his words with a particularly hard thrust, grinding his pelvis against your ass. “tell me you’re going to start acting normally from now on.”
you feel your eyes roll to the back of your head as his dick grinds into your sweet spot, hitting the x marker. “i..” you whimper, “i’ll start acting normally..”
“good girl.” heeseung grabs your jaw, angling you toward him as he kisses you, swallowing your moans and whimpers. pulling back, he looks at you with hooded eyes, his pupils blown wide.
his thumb finds your clit, circling the sensitive nerve. “you’re gonna cum right?” heeseung leans closer to you, watching the way your cunt spasms around his cock.
you nod, “please.” you just automatically assume he’s going to take it away from you, “please, let me cum.”
“you can cum.” heeseung punctuates his words with shallow thrusts, the thick head of his cock kissing your cervix with each movement. his thumb doubles down, applying pressure. you can barely stand anymore, heeseung’s the only thing keeping you up right as your legs tremble.
with a flick of his fingers, you gush around his cock, eyes rolling to the back of your skull. heeseung clamps a hand over your mouth before you can release any loud sounds, just in case someone was still lingering in the office.
heeseung pulls out before he cums himself, forcing you back onto your knees. before you can process what’s happening, he’s already pressing the head of his dick onto your lips.
pressing a soft kiss to his tip, you open your mouth obediently, wrapping your mouth around his shaft. heeseung’s hands tangle themselves in your hair, creating a makeshift ponytail as he controls the pace, moving your head back and forth.
he whimpers when he hits the back of your throat, feeling you gag around his length. “s-shit, right there.” you can’t breathe, nose firmly pressed against his pelvis but it’s okay. the expression on his face right now makes up for any sort of discomfort you could possibly be in.
heeseung starts jerking his hips slightly, hitting the back of your throat constantly. you gag again, tears welling up in your eyes, as well as drool escaping the corners of your mouth to dribble down your chin.
with one more thrust of his hips, he cums down your throat. it’s bitter, but you can barely taste it by the time it’s down your esophagus anyway. he’s panting softly, tucking his dick back into his pants. once he’s done, he starts combing your hair down gently with his fingers.
kneeling down, he wipes any liquid on your face with a tissue. “..was i too rough?”
you’re panting, and dazed, but you shake your head. “n-no. fuck me like that again.”
heeseung sighs, it kind of sounds like one of relief but you can’t tell. “come on, get dressed. i’ll take you home.”
“..i can’t stand up.”
on monday when you come in, the first thing you do is look for jungwon.
and you find him almost immediately, standing near the reception desk. he notices you, of course he does, his expression shifting into one of suspicion.
"oh, hey." jungwoon greets, smiling. you stop right in front of him.
"$50," you say.
jungwon tilts his head, "what?"
"you owe me $50."
his eyebrows lift immediately, "no i don’t."
"oh, you absolutely do."
jungwon turns to face you, "for what?"
"you said I couldn’t pull heeseung."
there's a pause as jungwon just stares at you. "..i said you couldn't-"
"you lost." you cut in immediately.
he exhales, sighing like he's rethinking every single financial decision he's ever made. "i hate this job," he mutters.
you brighten instantly, "..so $50?"
jungwon glares at you, "..i'll transfer it later."
you nod once, satisfied. "good."
this prompt has been sitting in my drafts for ages icl so i finally decided to finish it💔💔
i was lowkey going to skip on the smut again this time but i feel like this is a good learning curve LMAO
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“what’s your sexuality?” I don’t see myself doing scissoring or wtv it is.. but i do see myself having a relationship with a girl. I don’t see myself being in a relationship with men, but i do see myself having sex with one. i have never been romanticallly interested in a men but Ok… Im Not gonna label my sexuality cs i feel really uncomfortable w that
( I made out with a girl and it was so fricking hot, i melted. )
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SO i have the Largest petplay kink. I don’t know what it is but whenever someone calls me puppy, i get so FRICKING turned on. It makes me wanna be on my knees and wiggle my tails.
(i don’t even like dogs, maybe i just like acting one)
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Because so much of this kink is extreme verbal humiliation and degradation for me, the best aftercare is words of affirmation and validation. Reminding me that I'm valuable and precious and human, that you don't believe anything you were saying during scene, that you're grateful to explore this kink with me and you're glad to make me feel good with your gross words.
romaincrisis
origamiaround
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germansingergirl
theartofmadeline
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jacobvanloon
