♡︎

It was a beautiful morning, the beach across from the boardwalk sparingly occupied with delighted tanners and swimmers, the low buzz of waves reaching the shore sending a calming draft across the area. Envious as you were of Mingyu and his impeccable real estate choices, especially right now as your heel clad feet ache to take a dip in the waters, you couldn’t help but feel all the more irked that this was the background the image inside the studio was sitting against. 

Through the large glass windows, Mingyu is pressing his foot over top of his very pretty student’s on the pedal to force the pottery wheel to spin, hands over her own as he guides her fingers to put pressure on the wet clay. A spiteful part of you pushes a thought in your mind, that your husband was attempting to fix a lost cause, especially when his student seemed quite insistent in her soft smiles and keeping her gaze on the fingers that cover her own, rather than actually fixing the abomination on the pottery wheel. 

You don’t know how long you’ve been standing there by the time he’s done, straightening his back to turn his attention to the other students that make their attempts at their half done projects. Mingyu catches your figure through the window and immediately breaks into a big smile, clay covered hand coming to wave at you. 

Taking it as your cue to walk into the studio, you return neither his gorgeous smile or his occupied wave as you strut through the glass doors. Your husband meets you on the other side of the open space, hands now washed clean as he leans over to place a kiss on your cheek. 

“Hey, you,” he says in greeting, hands drying on a towel. 

All you can think about is if that salad bowl girl can see you, and you thank goodness you wore your nice top today. 

“Here.” You merely push the slightly crumpled file of documents to his chest, jaw set and lips tight. 

“Oh, thanks,” he comments as he grabs the papers pushed towards him, smile dropping a little at your abrupt attitude. “Is everything alright?” 

“Hm? ‘Course,” you answer, adjust the strap of your bag. “I have to get back to work. Be careful about your paperwork next time, I can’t keep making trips across town for this.”

You bite your tongue as soon as you say it, the words tumbling out before you can help it. Can’t keep making trips across town for this? Last time you checked, you were looking for passive excuses to make the trip to your husband’s studio just to see him during the day. 

“Oh.” His brows are furrowed, the frown apparent on his face. “I–I didn’t think you’d be too busy today, you said you’d be done early so—I—nevermind. I’m sorry I pulled you out of work for this, I’ll be careful next time.”

There’s a pang in your heart as you hear him apologise, immediately mad at yourself for going on and ruining his mood. What were you annoyed at? That he was doing his job? 

Your gaze lands behind him where most of his students are occupied with their projects, but just one whose eyes dart between you and Mingyu. 

Taking a step back, you’re about to walk out before you feel him grab your wrist. “D’you wanna have dinner at the new restaurant down the pier after work? We can watch the sunset too, haven’t done that in a while.”

You want to scream yes. Of course you want to watch a beach sunset with your husband. Of course you want to eat at the restaurant you’ve been waiting eagerly for with your husband. And you aren’t entirely sure if this reaction is simply because you’ve been stressed lately, but the sticky feeling is pushing you to make your claim in some way, somehow. 

Biting back another strangely snarky reply, you make an attempt to fix your stoic face and walk back to Mingyu. Leaning up, you kiss the corner of his mouth in what you hope is slightly reassuring. 

“I’ll see you in a few hours.”

Kicking off your heels is the first thing you do once you make it back to your desk, taking no time to punch the power on button on your computer. You pull a file from the stack next to you, one that sits at the bottom, with a harder than necessary yank. Bad idea, because as you scramble to stop the pile from tipping over entirely, you can only think of other ways your day could get worse. 

Before the worst of it can hit the floor, you find a second set of hands catching the strewing papers. 

“Thanks, Han,” you say as you attempt to reorganise the documents, taking the extra ones off his hands. 

“Have the laws of physics forsaken you? Or do you just like reorganising paperwork?” Hansol asks, sipping on something from the stupid horse mug Mingyu had made for him in light of his promotion. 

Huffing, you only haphazardly stuff the files to the corner to be done with it, opening the file you need as your computer finally boots up. “Don’t you have manager stuff to do?” 

“Being a manager means I can put off doing manager stuff,” he states. “Besides, I’m taking care of my peers, can you imagine the catastrophe that could’ve been if I didn’t swoop in to save you?”

“Papers on the floor? How catastrophic indeed,” you monotone as you click away at trying to find a particular excel sheet. 

“How was Mingyu?”

Stiffening, you want to curse Hansol at reminding you of the very thing you did not want to think of right now. 

“He was fine.”

“You were back earlier than usual, thought you would’ve had lunch with him.”

That was your plan, but clearly the universe had other ways for you to go about your day. Like thinking about an overly flirty student and her all too oblivious teacher. 

“He…he had a workshop today,” you simply comment. 

“Okay, Elsa, who shoved an ice cube up your ass?” You can hear the sneer in his voice, the judgmental stare. 

Groaning loudly, you can only slam your forehead onto your desk in an all too dramatic fashion. “Can you drop it? Please?”

“Ah,” he drags. “Trouble in paradise. Understood. I will be at my desk if you want to complain about your husband like Margaret from Finance.”

Margaret from Finance. The woman who’s entire catalogue of marital issues would be solved if she and her husband simply spoke to each other once in a while. Perhaps even held hands on occasion. 

You wince as you envision yourself becoming as stuck up and miserable as that, Hansol’s harmless comparison sending you into yet another spiral. It wasn’t that serious, this was all because your brain was stressed, horny and in love. The fact that your husband looked like how he did wasn’t really helping either. 

With a little more aggression than you usually would’ve done with, you attempt to skim through the files as quickly as humanly possible, flicking through the useless filler pages to get to the ones that actually required your attention. 

You send a passive aggressive email to Hansol entailing his job to keep things precise. 

Shoving forkfuls of salad into your mouth, your mouse clicks louder than anyone else in the area, having gone back to change your cursor speed about thrice since you turned your computer on. 

Your phone dings. Closing your eyes, you count to ten before turning to look at the illuminated screen beside you. 

[Gyu <3]: did u have lunch?

[Gyu <3]: i wanted us to get sum together but u zoomed off : (((

[Gyu <3]: im done with my classes for the day. The students were asking ab you earlier when u came in heh

[Gyu <3]: cant wait to see u tonight i looooooveee u <333

God, he makes it hard to stay mad at him. 

Snapping your head back to your monitor, you close your eyes once again as you question the war in your head and chest. Why were you mad at him? There was nothing to be mad about. Did you expect him to go about his day covered in plastic wrap and a neon ‘OFF LIMITS’ sign all day? The ring on his finger was supposed to do the job just fine. 

You sigh as you force yourself to text him back something that wasn’t entirely passive aggressive. Typing and erasing, and typing again and erasing again. A smiley face to seal it into something you were not feeling, and send. 

It’s late in the afternoon by the time you’re done, the sun less blaring as it pours through the office windows. You flick the last file shut, power off your computer and spring up to your feet, immediately gathering your things. Phone, ID, keys, and the last plastic file in your hands, you stalk towards Hansol’s desk and slam the papers next to his computer. 

He nearly chokes on his pocky stick as you spit out your final notes in rapid fire, not caring if you were indecipherable in the slightest. Hansol’s eyebrows remain in the air by the time you’re done, spinning on your heels and walking straight towards the elevators. 

“See you, Monday!” you finally hear him call out and you don’t turn to return his goodbye. Something that might have given you a strike but you could threaten him to take it off all the same. 

Besides, you had somewhere to be, and the idea churning in your brain didn’t seem like it wanted to wait. 

The sun is setting by the time you get to the beach boardwalk, climbing the steps to the line of establishments that overlook the significantly more occupied shore. Everything is perfect. Warm just the right amount, the sunlight forcing everything in its path into an incandescent glow. 

What you would’ve given for a nice lie on one of the beach chairs to release an entire day’s worth of tense muscles. But alas, you trudge straight down the boardwalk and walk the way to Mingyu’s studio. When you’re nearly there, you see the glass door of the studio open from a distance, immediately recognising the part timer leaving for the day. 

You cross paths as he walks towards you in the opposite direction, lighting up as he recognises you through your work attire. 

“Oh, hi!” Chan chirps, arm raised in a half wave. 

“Hi! Clocking out?” you ask as you stop to greet him. 

“Uh—yeah, Mingyu let me go early.” He’s grinning. 

“Good to hear. You enjoy the rest of your night, alright?” 

“Yeah–uh, you too!” he stutters once again as he continues to smile wide. You think nothing of it and continue your short walk to where the studio doors were. 

Coming round, you find the large glass door and walls have been blocked out with the blinds, the blaring CLOSED sign right at the entrance. 

You stand there in front of the door like a fool, taking a deep breath, eyes closed as you gain your bearings. Grabbing the shiny handle, you push the unlocked glass open. 

The bell at the top jingles, signalling a customer, and you watch your husband sitting at one of the turntables, clearly occupied. The studio is completely empty except for him, the whirr of the spinning table coming to a halt as he turns to tell whoever came in that they were closed for the day. 

It’s revolting. He’s wearing his usual black tee, stained with months of splattered clay, his hair tousled like he’d run his hands through it before he started his project. The sun seeps in through the neglected edges of the top of the glass walls, past the blinds that cover most of them, casting him in an unbelievable light. It’s revolting, he’s done nothing and it’s making your head reel; revolting. 

“We’re—oh, you’re early!” There it is, that stupid smile he can’t help but flash at every last person he sees, directed straight at you laced with nothing but love. 

Reaching behind you, you push the metal lock on the door to click it shut, locking the both of you inside, and the rest of the beach and boardwalk out. Right after, you begin to kick off your heels. 

“I already made the reservations for an hour from now, let me change and wash up so we can go to the beach till—”

“Sit down.”

He was halfway out of his seat as he was talking, ready to leave his half done work on the turntable to leave with you. Your words come out firm, a strange tone like you were giving him a command. 

It works, and the shock has him immediately falling back into his chair. The force pushes the chair away from the turn tables, now half facing you.  

Dropping your bag, you shuck your long coat off and leave it on the floor. Eyeing his hands, they’re covered in wet clay, suspended away from his body so as to not ruin his clothes more than they already are, speckled with dried clay and paint. 

He recovers quickly, confused as he watches you fiddle with the buttons on your bottoms, rising out of his chair once again. 

“What are you—” 

“I said,'' you grunt as you finally push your bottoms down so they hit the floor. “Sit down.” 

The shift in his face makes it obvious it has clicked in his head, staring at you as you walk towards him in just your blouse as the situation escalates faster than he can keep up with. 

“Right now? Can you at least let me—”

Through his blabbering you’ve reached him and swung a leg over his lap, seating yourself on his clothed thighs as he moves his hands away, making sure not to get clay all over your blouse. 

His hands may be occupied in a different sense, but you choose to busy yours in other ways. Taking his face in your hands, you lock your mouths in an open mouthed kiss, rendering him speechless. 

Taking no time to think, nor to let him think, you push your hips down to meet his own in a deep grind, panty clad pussy making contact with the rough of his jeans right over his bulge. The feeling is so sudden, spiking throughout your system as you hear him take a sharp inhale still pressed into your mouth.

That was you. That was you getting that reaction out of him, no matter how small it was. The thought has you gripping the back of his head, fingers making home in the short strands of his hair as you let go from the kiss. 

Wasting no time, you push his head back and stick your tongue out, licking a stripe from the base of his throat right up to his jaw. He shivers beneath you, and it only muddles your mind even more. 

You can feel his bulge beneath you growing larger and larger by the second, pressing into your inner thigh as his breathing grows exponentially heavier in your ear. Locking eyes with him, you trail your other hand down to graze over the front of his shirt, pressing into the bumps and ridges that lie beneath.

Reaching his buckle, you hook your finger underneath the gap and pull at the metal. As you let go, it snaps back into place with a resounding cling! Keeping the eye contact, you drift even lower, your fingers find the growing tent in his jeans as you cup the bulge. Moving your hands in the way you know he likes it, you curb your speed to drag out the feeling for him. 

“Fuck,” you hear him curse lowly. 

It’s becoming impossible for him to keep his composure, especially to keep his hands away from your body that sits on him. He gets close, fingers brushing the white of your blouse in a moment of confusion, instant brown on the surface as his wet, clay hands ruin your shirt. 

“If you really can’t keep your hands to yourself,” you say, halting your movements on his crotch. “I guess this’ll have to go too.”

Not bothering to undo all the buttons, you tug the first couple ones unfastened and pull your blouse over your head, throwing it somewhere behind his head. Quickly, you reach behind and unclasp your bra, flinging it away in the same general area. You’re now almost entirely naked while he remains clothed head to toe. 

Your nipples harden as they meet the air in the studio, Mingyu’s eyes set on your mounds as he takes them in. 

Before he has the opportunity to do anything, you slip off of your seat in his lap, knees slamming the floors in your haste as you kneel before him. Hands flying, you tug at the buckle of his belt, undoing it despite your hurried motions. 

“You’ve been off today, are you sure everything’s alright?” Mingyu asks from, still wide eyed as he watches helplessly as you yank his jeans enough to reveal the final layer of his underwear. It doesn’t take you long to take his entire length out of there too, needing him in front of you.

“Do not ask me about my feelings when I’m trying to fuck you.”

“What on earth–shit!”

You’ve taken his now fully hard length into your hand, licking a strip from the base of his cock up to the bulbous head. The tip of your tongue teases the head ever so lightly, and Mingyu watches as his head and your tongue match in their reds. He watches the way your tongue dips into the pooling white of his precum, pushing into his slit as the tip of your tongue wiggles slightly. 

The fact that he cannot touch only heightens the effects of your teasing, clayed hands balling into fists just to feel something on his fingertips. 

Soon, your lips have wrapped around the head of cock as you let it rub against the beginnings of the inside of your soft mouth. Letting go, you take him in again, this time running your tongue over his slit, feeling his hips twitch beneath you as you continue to take him in and out, only to take him back in again. 

In one motion, you sink your mouth lower onto his dick, feeling the head of his cock run against the roof of your mouth. Mingyu hisses audibly amidst his very loud and heavy breathing. 

When you feel him hit the beginnings of your throat, you pull back, bringing your hand to curve around the base to cover what you couldn’t fit, pumping him up and down as you continue to pull his member in and out of your mouth. 

He’s moaning loud, the echoes resonating off the walls as you hear your name slip from his mouth over, and over, and over again. It only encourages you as you move down deeper, his cock touching the back of your throat in more familiarity than before. 

Everything is wet; the spit and precum turning into a shiny gleam on his cock and on the lower half of your face, the heat between your legs that makes you feel oh so empty. Clenching around nothing, you resist the urge to bring a hand down to relieve yourself. 

“Are you ovulating or something, why are you suddenly…suddenly, fucking hell I don’t know.” 

Releasing him from your mouth with a loud pop, you rear your head to look up at him, the lower half of your face covered in a wet glisten. Your hand continues to pump him as you watch his face remain contorted in pleasure.

In a daze, you don’t realise what you’re saying as you blab. “Could she do it like this?”

“What?”

“Could she do it like this?” you repeat like a mantra, needing to hear his answer. “Could she make you feel like this?”

“What are you talking about?” It’s taking Mingyu every bit of his soul to form coherent words. 

In one swift motion, you’ve hoisted yourself back on your feet, nails digging into his thighs through his pants. 

Hovering over his lap, you take his shaft once again, but this time you push your panties aside with your hand and bring it close to your heat, brushing the head of his cock over your wet folds, using him to feel the pleasure that builds. 

“God, you’re so wet,” he blabs as he throws his head back at the feeling. “I wanna touch you, fuck I need to get this clay off, I need to touch you.”

He’s brought his mouth to latch onto your nipple, evoking a loud gasp from you as feel him circle your nub with his tongue before sucking. Letting go, he sticks his tongue out as his only weapon, flicking it repeatedly as you continue to rub his wet cock over your equally wet cunt. 

Lining him up with your entrance, you sink onto his head as you let out a loud moan, feeling the tip stretch you out in the familiar way you’ve been craving all day. It’s like your brain is buffering as you recover from the bout of pleasure, barely registering that he’s continued to assault your other nipple now. 

Your free hand comes to toy with your relieved tit, twisting your spit covered nipple between your fingers as his dick pushes further and further inside you. 

Fully sheathed, you pull your husband’s face away from your breast as you bring his lips to your own, kissing him deep as you clench around his hard cock.

“Don’t. Do that,” he hisses against your lips, hands suddenly closing in your waist, so close before he realises he can’t. “‘M gonna fucking come, I’m so serious.”

The news is enlightening, especially as it encourages you to lift your hips ever so slightly, and curl back back down in an initial thrust. Again, and again, and again till you’re moving your hips at a swift pace, striking down on his length as you both moan into each other's mouths.

The feeling is electrifying, and the borderline pornographic noises your husband is making is only making it all the more easier to gush around his member, to move your hips faster as you feel the knot in your abdomen tighten and loosen. 

“You feel amazing, so fucking good,” he grunts as he mouths the column of your throat. “My baby, my darling, my wife.”

And when the burn in your thighs becomes more than just a mental battle, your hips slowing despite the mind boggling feeling and the choked sobs that come out of you, you feel Mingyu’s hips lift from the chair he’d been trapped in, pushing into you instead. 

His still dirty hands have taken hold of the top of the back legs of the chair, helping himself push off his seat to thrust into you rapidly. 

“Touch yourself, baby,” he says. “Rub your clit for me.”

Who are you to deny him, one hand on one of his broad shoulders while the other flies down to the mess that’s becoming of your cunt. Rubbing two fingers over your clit, you throw your head back in a loud moan as you feel yourself beginning to close in.

Mingyu is watching the apex of your thighs; the way your fingers work against your swollen clit, the way his dick disappears inside you, a ring of sinful white foaming at the base of his cock. He twitches inside you, a clear indication that he was also close. 

Your breasts are a sight to behold, and the scene before him is enough to make him bust entirely. Bouncing tits that he cannot touch, perfectly red, puffed pussy he cannot touch, the beautiful curves and dips of your waist and thigh, barely illuminated by the setting sun, that he cannot touch. He curses the wretched idea to make a last minute thing on the turntable before you arrived, curses the fact that he should be able to feel all of you. 

He might lose his mind, and he does when your walls clamp down on him like a trap, your moans so loud he’s sure he’ll be hearing them in his ears for weeks. 

“G–Gyu, I’m cumming,” you whimper through the pure brain fog. 

Mingyu fucks you through your orgasm, finally letting himself release his own load into you when he simply can’t take it anymore, dick spasming as he shoots white hot cum into your hole. The added slick makes it easier to slip in and out faster as his orgasm holds out far longer than it usually does, both of your hips twitching like you’d been zapped as you come down from your highs. 

It’s become near impossible to hold up your own weight, slumping against his large frame as you unclench every pinched muscle and joint. Forehead on his shoulder, you take pleasure in the afterglow, breathing in his scent with your nose pressed into the sliver of skin that reveals past his shirt. Sweat, the earthy odour of clay, and the calm familiarity of him.

“I don’t know what I did to have you acting like this,” he breathes into your ear. “But whatever it is, I need to do it more often.”

Sluggishly, you lift your head to look at him. His head is leaned back on the chair, face glowing as you stare into the eyes you fell in love with so long ago. 

“You haven’t done anything,” you sigh. “It was…stupid.”

“That’s the worst thing you could say to me right now.”

You whine, rolling your neck. “What do you want me to tell you?”

He stares. “Who do I need to thank for creating this monster?”

It was a joke, clearly, but you couldn’t help but feel the little pool of pride swell within you anyway. 

“Salad bowl girl.”

“And I’m supposed to know what that means? Do you want a salad bowl? I can make you one.”

“No. The girl in your class this morning with that god awful salad bowl,” you huff. “It looked offensive, she was too busy burning holes into you.”

“Oh no,” he whispers, eyes wide, mouth turning it the beginnings of a hysterical laugh. “My pretty little wife is jealous.”

“If you’re gonna rub it in, I'm getting off.” You try to remove yourself from his lap, slipping his now soft member out of you. 

You’re stopped when you feel the two points of his elbows locking you at the waist, pushing you down. He’s grinning like a fool. “You’re sexy when you’re angry.”

“I’m not angry—”

“Your hello was my dick in your mouth.”

“So you didn’t like it?”

“I’d fire myself in the kiln before I ever say that.” He locks his elbows harder, pulling you closer. “Besides, I think this means I’ve won.”

“Won what?”

“Like you’ve never noticed Chan looking at you like…like he’s got some puppy dog crush on you. I’ve won the battle of composure.” 

You guffaw, “What are you—stop it, he does not!”

He merely leans forward and kisses you, “I don’t blame him. My wife is the most gorgeous thing anyone could ever see.” 

Grabbing him by the elbows, you break free of his hold and get off of his lap, attempting to gather the clothes you’ve scattered across the studio. 

“Can you at least help me put my dick back inside my pants, these are my cleaner jeans!”

Snapping the elastic of your bra back on, pantied adjusted, you walk back to him. He’s looking at you with those stupid stars in his eyes and it makes it hard to focus on readjusting his jeans for him. 

Leaning down, you take in your hands his still wet cock, smothered in your spit and arousal, complete with his own release. You can’t help it when you dip further to take his head into your mouth, the groan coming from above you near automatic. 

“Oh, you’re evil.”

You grin as you wrap your mouth in a harsher suck, feeling him harden slowly, still quicker than you’d thought. Giving him a few more generous sucks, you run your tongue over his slit before moving back. 

He’s breathing heavily, leaning close as you pull his waistband up. “You know, they say you should lay down afterwards if you want to be successful. I think we might have to go again later on a real bed to do the trick.”

“You can stay horny, I’m getting dressed for some real food.” 

“I think we kinda need to be horny to do what we’re trying to do,” he lowtones, moving his face back and forth to meet your drifting eyes. 

You sigh once again, “Why can’t just getting off birth control be enough?”

“Are you not having fun?”

“I’m literally buttoning your pants for you, it was fun until now.”

Mingyu raises his hands in both surrender and pointed regard, the clay now dried and cracking over his hands and forearms. “I digress.”

 It annoys you that he’s right, so you lean in to give him a kiss as a distraction. It works. 

“It’s alright,” he smiles into your kiss. “This is the one thing I won’t mind breaking my back for.”

The giggle escapes you before you can help it, and you feel him kiss at your cheeks, placing one last one on the tip of your nose.

“Now, if my lovely wife will let me wash my hands…?”

“Go,” you chuckle.

“We should name our baby Salad Bowl in this honour.” He’s way at the handwash station by now, water running as he scrubs off all the dried up clay.

“So sad our baby will have to grow up without a father.”

 “I love you,” he yells. 

“I’ll be sure to tell our child.” 

“You’re insufferable,” he says, suddenly behind you as you pull on your blouse. Wet hands grasp your waist and you squeal at the feeling. 

“Mingyu!” 

“I love you,” he drags, spinning you around to face him. 

“I thought I was insufferable.”

Your husband groans, simply pulling you into him with his own two hands to kiss you. 

“I think we’re late for our reservation.”

“You’d better hurry then.” You eye his clay speckled shirt.

“Don’t miss me.” He turns around to find his cleaner shirt, all while you drift over to see the incomplete project still on his table.

A mug still clay-brown and half done, but one that looks suspiciously similar to your favourite one you broke last week. 

You shook your head, laughing at her mindset and began typing an answer when the 'ding' of the elevator told you you had reached the ground floor. Without looking up, too focused on sending your response, you were walking through the open doors when you suddenly ran against something hard... or... someone. You gasped, almost letting your phone drop, as a hand wrapped around your waist, holding you tightly to not make you fall. Looking up, you came to sight with truly one of the last people you'd ever want to see,

"Kim Mingyu?" You wondered out loud. The man quickly let go of you after making sure you'd be standing steady on both of your feet,

"O-Oh, sorry, my bad," he bowed in apology, "Hello, Yoon (Y/N)."

"What are you doing here?" You were still too perplexed to understand the current situation, the coincidence.

He chuckled, fixing his tie and stepping out of the way for the doors to close, "My sister lives here. I'm just here to pick something up. And you?" 'He can make his voice sound as sweet as he wants. It's not gonna change my mind about him.' You thought to yourself.

"I live here," stating simply and adjusting the strap of your bag on your shoulder.

Mingyu nodded in understanding, "And... now you're off to work?" The awkward try in having small talk was killing you.

"Yeah."

"Well then... we might see each other there," he waved you off, pressing the button to let the elevator come down again, "It was nice to see you again." Instead of an answer, you only nodded, about to make your way to the big front doors of your apartment complex, when his voice stopped you, "Oh, Yoon (Y/N)!" You turned around, expecting him to continue, "I hope we can work well together." Just as the last word left his lips, the doors closed, leaving you to stand alone.

After quickly shaking off any positive opinion about the man, that he dropped into your brain, you crossed the floor of the lobby with big steps, the Doorman already ready to let you leave the building with a welcoming smile on his lips, that you reciprocated as you exited. You walked over to the parking space where you had left your car and drove off without wasting another thought on one of the new CEOs of your... your father's... the company you were working for.

"Good Morning, Ms. Yoon," you immediately got greeted as soon as you had reached the floor of the company's office. Jisoo had always and would forever be one of your favourite co-workers - always on time, great ideas every time you'd ask him, the same opinions as you, and just one of the kindest personalities you had ever come across.

"Ms. Yoon?" You jokingly asked him, raising the pitch of your voice. The man sent you a sheepish smile as the two of you continued your way through the office to reach your room,

"I thought I'd be extra polite today since someone got a promotion. But what-," he wiggled his eyebrows, leaving you unimpressed.

"Don't," raising a hand, you stopped him, "Don't even start on that, I'm so done-" before you could continue, someone carrying a big carton, not seeing much, stopped you as he shouted to be careful.

"W-" Your gaze followed the man in a blue bodysuit, just as another followed him, carrying even more on a trolly, "What is going on?"

You continued your walk to your own office, Jisoo close on your feet.

"What the hell is happening?!" Your eyes found men in the same outfits, coming out of your own room, "Excuse me?" You stopped one, "What do you think you're doing?"

"My job?" He answered unfazed, continuing doing what he was told to do.

You were still just as confused as you were before answering the question, therefore stopping another worker, "Sorry, where are you taking all of this?"

Thankfully, got caught a kinder man, "Upstairs."

"Why?"

He shrugged, "I don't know. I get told what to do, and I do it. I don't ask questions."

And finally, you come to sight with your office... an almost empty office. You turned around, looking at Jisoo wide-eyed, "Wh- Where are my things? What is upstairs?!"

He lowered his voice, hoping to soothe you, "That's what I was trying to ask you before. What are you doing here? Your office is upstairs."

"Since when?!" You could feel your heart beating probably around 120 bpm.

"Since today..." Jisoo squinted his eyes, "Didn't your father tell you about this. Or more so, Mr. Jeon?"

"Tell me what?"

"We have another office?" You wondered, looking into the new space, that Jeon Wonwoo had apparently bought in addition to the merges of his, Kim Mingyu's, and your father's company.

"Two other offices," the man corrected you, "The app developers, then the designers, and here the advertisers and like... important people, I guess," he explained, making a staking motion with his hand to let you know where everyone was placed now.

"But why?" You were still confused, but he only shrugged,

"I don't know, you tell me. I thought someone would have talked to you."

"No..." you looked around, your foot grazing over the flooring, "I left a little earlier yesterday," not wanting to go into detail as to why and he seemed to understand, therefore answered by just nodding.

"Maybe you can talk to Jeon Wonwoo to get your office back downstairs?" He proposed a possibility you were not 100% fine with,

"To be honest, he's the last person I want to talk to right now..." you continued walking through the unknown rooms, gazing into rooms every now and then. The floorplan was slightly different from the other, one floor beneath you - a lot more open. You tried searching for the placement of your name on one of the doors, which didn't take all too long as some workers had just left the last boxes in it.

Entering it carefully for no other reason than pure confusion, you couldn't believe your eyes.

"This is it?!" Jisoo spoke up loudly, his voice echoing through the room as it didn't have anything to dampen sound yet - like curtains or pillows. The space was HUGE, much bigger than your old office. It had a seating area, a wall covered by ceiling-high bookshelves, and a desk that would most likely be too big for you and make you look tiny.

"I guess so..." you answered him, unsure of just how real the situation was, "Are you sure this is mine?" You asked him and were about to turn around, but a different voice answered, making both of your heads turn to the door,

"Yes, it is." Jeon Wonwoo stood in the frame of the door.

"Why?" You immediately wondered, unbothered by his appearance, other than your friend, who seemed to have gotten slightly nervous or more respectful with the new CEO in the room.

Wonwoo chuckled and walked in, "Why not?"

"I don't know, I'm asking you," crossing your arms in front of your chest after placing your bag on the new desk.

"Do you want the storage room to be your office?" He asked you with the same attitude.

"No."

"Well then." And left without saying another word.

You watched his silhouette through the floor to ceiling windows that created the wall of your office, focusing on every step he made just until he disappeared in a different room, similar to yours, right across from you.

"Is that- is that his?"

"Yeah," Jisoo nodded, finally being able to breathe normally again.

You groaned loudly, gaining his attention, "What?" To which you rolled your eyes,

"I told myself I'd stay as far away from him as possible."

"Why?" He giggled until he saw the seriousness on your face and got worried all of a sudden, "Why?"

"Let's just say... I'm not his biggest fan," you answered as you glared through the windows at the man sitting behind his big boy desk, who had already been staring at you the entire time.

-----------------------

"What are you doing?"

You rolled your eyes at the sound of the deep chuckle you were able to avoid for a good three hours, keeping yourself busy by rearranging your room. You were moving around the furniture, trying to get everything to look the way you wanted it to.

"What do you think it looks like?" You turned around, sending the man a sarcastic smile.

Jeon Wonwoo put his hands in his pockets and bit his lower lip, "Looks like you're getting used to your new space. I'm happy. But why change the layout." He wandered around, taking more specific glances and the bookshelf and what you had filled it with.

"I don't necessarily want to have to see you whenever I'm looking at my computer," you answered, followed by a groan as you tried to move the desk... with no luck.

"Boyfriend?" He held up a picture from the shelf, showing you in your graduation gown, next to your best friend in the same outfit.

"None of your business," you didn't even look at him, keeping your focus on the task.

"Fair."

Next thing you know, the only man in the room was suddenly standing in front of you, one hand on the top of the desk, the other in his pocket,

"Why don't you want to see me?"

You tried pushing it harder, "You're distracting," you huffed out.

"Am I that handsome?" Wonwoo cockily raised his head as well as smiled, amused at the situation as he looked at you struggling.

"Annoying." You finally looked up at him with pleading eyes. He scrunched his eyebrows and tilted his head,

"Why did we start on the wrong foot again?" He questioned the already not so pleasant relationship that had formed between the two of you, not even having properly talked to you and yet you seemed so passive towards him.

You sighed, "Listen," fixing your blouse, "I work for you. I don't have to like you," before he could continue, she shut him up by continuing, grabbing him by the shoulders and turning him towards the door, "If you could leave now?" And he did... with one of those annoying as hell laughs and a short, "Good luck with the desk."

Confused, you turned around and took a look, wondering as to why it really was that hard to move it, when your eyes suddenly fell to the floor and the desk's legs. With one closer look, you saw it: they were fixed into the flooring with screws... screw that.

-----------------------

Even while you had been trying to furnish your new office, co-workers and employees were coming in and out, dropping off random files and binders that were foreign to you. Now, sitting at your desk, you finally got a chance to look at them. Opening and rummaging through them, you found all kinds of information about the businesses of your new bosses. Sadly, and as much as you tried to understand everything that was written in those files, you couldn't. It was mostly tech talk about websites and HTML stuff as well as programming, which had never been something you put a focus on, due to the fact that your father's company used to focus on advertising and managing.

All you could do was put everything from the binders into your company's shared network, copying everything, word for word, every now and then using Google to at least try and get some understanding of what you were writing down, but with no luck mostly. And as much as you were trying to focus on the screen in front of you, your eyes couldn't help but to drift off to the left whenever you felt another pair already looking at you - the short distance between your offices was going to get to you at some point, and it would probably happen sooner than later.

Your phone's ringtone let you take a break from your work.

"Hello?" You answered it, after having a look at who was calling you.

"Aaaand, how is it so far?" Binna's voice rang through your right ear.

You sighed, "So far, I've got... a new office, new furniture, and a new boss watching my every move," standing up from your chair, you walked over to the big windows that gave you a perfect view of the city's skyline as well as the river to the right.

"He's watching you?" She sounded confused, and you shook your head even though she wouldn't be able to see it,

"His office is right across from mine, and I feel like I'm getting spied on."

"He gave you a new office?!" Her squealing voice made you distance your phone from your ear, "AND he put it across from his?! Wow, Wonwoo..." she let out a chuckle, "That's kinda hot."

"You find everything he does kinda hot," you judged her. Judged her HARD, "And Wonwoo? Since when are you addressing him by his first name?"

"What?" She laughed, "You want me to call him Sir Jeon? That only makes him more attractive."

"Binna-" you groaned but got interrupted by someone clearing their voice behind you. Turning around, you immediately ended the phone call,

"I gotta go, I'll call you later."

He looked at you, a smirk plastered on his lips, "Who thinks I'm hot?" You decided to ignore his question and made your way back to the chair, trying to put your focus back on work.

"How are you doing so far?" Wonwoo looked at the folders on your desk, as well as the ones you had thrown onto the floor out of frustration of not even understanding half of them.

"Great," you sarcastically answered him, "I have to type reports and information about things I don't even understand. Fantastic."

"I thought you went to university and didn't you say you've been working for this company ever since you were 17?" He got a hold of one of the binders, breezing through it before looking up at you.

You continued typing on the keyboard, "I studied Communications and Management, and I'm working for an advertising company," and another folder found its way onto the floor, "not this shit."

"You're working for this shit now, though, so be careful what you say," he picked it up, putting it back on the table next to your arm.

The typing stopped as you looked up at him, staring daggers into his eyes, "And how the hell am I supposed to work for something I don't know anything about?"

The CEO sent you a bright smile, "You're smart. You'll figure something out," and left the room again, leaving you behind with a heavy sigh falling from your lips.

-----------------------

After a lunch break that you didn't use, but rather spent it working on the rest of the files, and a few hours later, close to the end of your workday, Jisoo found you spacing out into thin air, slumping in your chair, "Are you okay?" He carefully asked, entering and stopping in front of your desk.

"It's only the first day, and I already hate it," you answered him, slow with your words as your eyes focused on nothing specifically.

"Tell Jisoo. What's wrong?" He sat down in one of the seats and put his elbows on the table, resting his head in his hands. With a groan, you let yourself fall over the armrest of your chair, just hanging,

"I can't concentrate. I can't work. This is not what I signed up for," you shot back up, looking straight at Jisoo whose eyes were already fixed on you, "I never planned on working for an IT company. THIS," pointing to the amount of binder all around you and grabbing pieces of paper exaggerated the situation, "Is not what I studied to do. I don't know what any of this means!"

You stood up, hands in your hair, "Did you know that Assignment operators are operators that combine variable assignments with arithmetic operators and that arithmetic operators are what makes a character in a video game take damage, and you need to subtract it from his total life score", pacing around the room, you didn't stop ranting,

"Or did you know that C++ offers a high abstraction level for both fine object-oriented programming and generic programming, that provides direct control over hardware and graphical processes, which is why it mostly gets used for programming games? No? Me neither."

As shocked as the man looked at you, he couldn't help but let his playful personality show, "You did pick up a lot though, over the past few hours." To which you only sent him a glare, hoping to shut him up, and it quickly did, thankfully.

Before you were able to continue with your rant, a voice held you back from it, "Good evening, Ms. Yoon." Looking ahead of you, you found Kim Mingyu just passing by your office, sending you a bow and a wave, which you reciprocated, trying to smile, which probably looked way too forced but you couldn't care less at that point. He also waved to Jisoo, who seemed more shocked at the interaction,

"Such a gentleman," a hand came up to his chest, holding still there, making you scuff,

"As if," and roll your eyes.

"Hey," he warned you, "You shouldn't be mad at him. He's not the reason for your misery." You looked at him with scrunched eyebrows, unsure of your full understanding of his statement when your thoughts got interrupted by a knock on your glass door,

"Excuse me, Miss Yoon," Lee Yejun, an employee from your father's company, stood there, holding more binders that looked unpleasantly much like those on your floor. You looked at her, nodding to let her in,

"Yes?"

"Mister Jeon asked me to bring these to you," she put them down on your table before taking a few steps back again.

Your eyes widened in shock, "Why?"

"He said you would need them... for more reports?" The end of her sentence sounded more like a question, but you just nodded and waved her off, with the other hand holding your forehead,

"Alright, yes, thank you." And she left with a smile.

"Wow..." you heard Jisoo let out a heavy breath, "That... That is..."

"A lot?"

"Yeah," his eyes drifted to your silhouette, only being lit up by the not too bright lamp on the ceiling, and the city lights, shining in through the windows behind you. But your eyes were only focused on one thing. One person specifically. That bastard of a CEO who was sharing laughs with his co-CEO in his own office, not noticing the warning glances you were sending him.

"You know," you softly spoke, "I can make his life just as miserable."

"(Y/N), no," the man warned you, noticing the fire burning in your eyes as you watched the other two men joking around.

----------------------

The following day started very similarly to the one before: You reassured yourself that everything was going to be fine, and you promised yourself to take it easy... that lasted for about an hour into your workday until new people kept showing up with questions about things that had nothing to do with your position as COO. You decided that it had been the final straw and took action. Not even letting the current employee finish their sentence, you shot up from your seat behind your desk, and with quick steps across the floor, you reached the office of the CEO.

"Are you doing this on purpose?" You asked him, raising your voice slightly.

"What?" He wondered, oblivious to your question.

"Oh, please," you rolled your eyes, "Is this fun for you? Is this your form of entertainment?"

He stood up to look and motioned for you to take a seat, "Would you like to elaborate, Miss Yoon?"

"Don't play dumb with me. You can't do that shit here-"

He quickly stopped you with a raised hand, "I don't think you should talk to your boss like that." And raised his eyebrows in a mocking manner. You let out a heavy breath and shook your head as he continued, "Now. If you'd like to tell me about your concerns, formally, I'll see what I can do."

"What you can do is stop terrorising me by sending over employees that show up with stupid questions or those fucking folders-"

"Watch your mouth," he sent you a warning look one more time, shutting you up.

"Just stop with that," you huffed out, hands on your hips. Jeon Wonwoo leaned back in his chair, eyes focused on your face,

"You're COO. You have a big responsibility in this company," he tried explaining, but you were having none of it.

"This," you pointed to your office, "Is not the job of a COO. I'm not the service desk for every employee or some kind of secretary to do all the typing. That's not what I'm here for. Especially not for stuff that I didn't specialise in."

"Being a COO is a lot of work-"

"But not this!"

"But it's what I expect from my COO!" He shot up from his seat, hands on his desk, "In MY company, this is YOUR job."

You closed your eyes, breathing in deeply, trying to contain yourself, which was harder than you expected, so instead of letting more words fall from your lips, you turned around and exited his office with quick steps.

"Miss Yoon!" He shouted, but you didn't react, "(Y/N)!" This made you stop in your tracks. You turned back to look at him, standing in front of his desk as he motioned for you to come closer with one finger. With a sigh, you walked back but didn't even let him start his sentence,

"If you say my name ever again or do this," copying his hand motion, "I'll make sure you don't have fingers anymore."

He squinted his eyes at you and whispered, "Feisty," making you want to walk back out again, but his grip on your lower arm made you stop. You quickly slapped it off, and he raised his hands in defence before pointing to a small stack of paper on his desk, "You haven't signed the new contract yet."

Instead of looking at the desk, both of your pairs of eyes were locked onto each other. Right there, he knew what you were thinking, and you knew what he was thinking. This wasn't going to end any time soon, and you were ready to get what was supposed to be yours, no matter the cost. Even if it meant having to tolerate his behaviour, so you could work yourself up from your current position.

Therefore, with two quick steps, you were able to reach for a pen off the desk and signed the last two pages that you already knew would need your signature. And with that, it was decided.

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