Gyeoul

Hiding under his desk while a few of his workers barge into his office isn't exactly ideal. You both wanted to keep this relationship a secret; often not seeing each other for weeks at a time, but you couldn't handle it anymore.

Now he's trying to hide the red lipstick stains all over his face and neck, as you try to keep quiet under his desk, his button up shirt messily draped over your shoulders and your face smeared with your own red lipstick.

His workers finally leave his office and he leans back in his chair, relieved. He looks down at you as he manspreads, his arms resting on the chair's armrests, a smirk plastered on his face as he gestures for you to sit on his lap once more. "C'mere, pretty girl."