When he’s your boss. (Changmin smut)

(Based on this submitted picture:

I hope I did okay. D: Slkdfaljdfadljf I’m sorry it’s kind of awkward. Gonna go hide in a hole forever now.

Warning: Smut.)

When your boss called you into his office, you were expecting the worst. You were expecting to be fired or yelled at or something. You’d never met the boss in-person, as he was a busy man. He was always flying places, having meetings, doing important things.

Shim Changmin. The boss.

You and him definitely had…interactions. He was constantly calling you to chew you out over the phone. He always did it in the same sarcastic, emotionless, biting tone of voice. You had always made some minor mistake that he wanted to blow out of proportion, some slip-up that cost him time and money to fix, and he had no qualms with letting you know exactly why and how you were an idiot.

It brought you to tears sometimes. Not during the calls, as you would never dream of sounding weak in front of him, but after you hung up was a different story. You were working the hardest you’d ever worked. You wanted so badly to succeed at this job. You’d heard that it would be challenging, and you’d heard from your co-workers about the boss’s attitude. You’d just never expected it to be quite this bad. He was notorious for chasing workers out, and now you knew why.

Lately, you had even been speaking with some of your co-workers about your own intentions to quit.

Oh god, what if he found out? What if he’s going to fire me? What if he’s going to yell at me? What if he’s going to KILL me?

You actually felt like you were walking to your death, and now, you’ve finally arrived at the door to his office. You’re expecting some sort of fire-breathing demon-boss.

Instead, when you knock lightly on the door and he tells you to enter, you’re greeted with something entirely unexpected.

A young, tall, slender-but-well-built man perched on the desk, his blazer hanging across the back of the chair behind him, loosening his tie.

You’re taking it all in: the way his long fingers are slowly tugging on the tie; the soft, smooth skin on his neck; the way he’s almost glowing from the backlight from the windows; his almost-but-not-quite-see-through white shirt; his perfect profile; his endearingly large ears…

He looks ethereal. Too beautiful, too tranquil to exist. For a brief moment, you entertain the notion that he’s actually some sort of angel. It’s a sweet, sentimental side of him showing in his body language, his every move, his expression, his smile. Completely the opposite of what you’d heard about him.

This can’t be your boss.

"Uh," you stammer unintelligently. "A-am I in the right…place? I was called in for a meeting with the boss, and maybe I took a wrong turn in the office, but—"

His attention shifts to you, and you can actually feel yourself melting. There’s a calm, peaceful hint of a smile on his face, and you can’t stop staring.

Look away, look away, look away, you coach yourself, but can’t take your own advice. Damn it.

He chuckles. “No, you’re in the right place, Miss. You’re just the person I wanted to see.”

He nods to the chair in front of him, but you’re too petrified to take a seat. This…this is him? This is the man who has repeatedly called you over the past few weeks to demean you, degrade you, let you know that you’re the lowest form of life on the planet? Was he some sort of demon in disguise as an angel?

"You’re the boss?" you manage to ask incredulously before you can stop yourself.

Does he have to look so good in a suit?

His expression shifts immediately, the tranquil, tired, melancholy smile on his face stretching into a smirk. He flicks his eyes up and down your body. “Yeah. I’m him.”

"S-sorry sir, I mean no offense, I just…"

"I hear you’re thinking of quitting," he interrupts, and you swallow nervously. So he has heard.

"Well, you seem to be dissatisfied with my performance, and I…"

"You…?" he prods.

"I…dislike the way I’m treated here," you manage to choke out, shocked at your own boldness.

"Mhm," he affirms, his expression not at all the same as it had been when you’d walked into the office. It was hardened, defensive, judgmental. His voice was hard, too. This seemed more like the boss you knew. "You are dissatisfied with the way I treat you?"

You can’t meet his gaze anymore. You look down at your feet, studying your black heels intently. “Your style of running the company seems to be working out for you, sir, but I don’t believe it’s fair for either of us to be constantly disappointed in me, or for me to be verbally abused.”

You hear him shifting and you glance up immediately, your heart beating so fast that you’re fairly certain it’s going to pop out of your chest. He’s standing up, still gazing at you intently. His tie is undone now, the ends dangling from his neck. He makes his way over to you slowly, like a panther on the prowl.

You find yourself craning your neck to look up at him. He’s so tall, and he smells enticing. Like cologne and new books and coffee.

Get it together, you mentally kick yourself. No being sexually attracted to the evil boss. No matter how hot he is.

"I’ve watched you," he says softly. The hardness in his face melts away again, revealing that tranquil, impossible-to-read, sad expression. Like he’s maskless, showing you his pain and weakness and exhaustion. "I know I’ve never talked to you in-person, but I see you at your desk, and running around the office in your cute little way to get everything in on time. I see how you work. You’re the best I have, and I appreciate each and every little thing you do."

You felt like you had been punched in the stomach. “Excuse me?”

Was this actually the right boss? Was this a dream? Had someone swapped your boss out for an alien?

"I’ve observed you carefully," he murmurs again, and you notice that he’s been moving closer and closer. You start backing up, but he keeps coming, and soon you feel your back pressing against the door. "And I like you."

"Is that so," you manage to squeak out.

"Mm," he makes a noise of affirmation, slowly placing his hands on either side of your head, his palms against the door. "I don’t know why, but…I feel like…I can relax around you. I know I’m a bit harsh over the phone, but…I call you when I’m stressed because I like hearing your voice. It always calms me."

His gaze is intense, and you’re positively radiating heat from your face. You know that you’re so red that it probably looks like you’re about to catch fire. You can’t help but pay attention to the beautiful shape of his lips, the curve of his neck, the long, pretty eyelashes.

"S-Sir, is this appropriate…?"

"I don’t really care," he mutters, his voice barely audible. He leans down to press a soft, sweet kiss your cheek. "Do you?"

You vehemently shake your head. What’s gotten into you?

"Besides," he continues, with a slight laugh in his voice. "It’s not like the boss can catch us."

You can’t help yourself anymore. You just can’t. He was so sweet, so defenseless, so in need of care.

You grab the loose ends of his tie and pull him into a kiss, smashing your lips against his. He seems surprised at first, but then makes a pleased sound and takes control, running his tongue across your lower lip. You wrap your arms around his neck, obediently opening your mouth, and you moan as you feel him bite your lower lip and then push his tongue against yours.

He tastes sweet. Like strawberries or peaches.

His hands are on your thighs now, and slowly inching up towards your hips as he pushes your skirt up. He presses his crotch against yours, rolling his hips. You groan into his mouth as you feel him hardening in his slacks. His breath catches as you rub against him.

You run your hands down his shoulders, and then down his chest. He breaks the kiss and pulls back, grabbing your hands and leading you to the desk. It’s neatly organized, minimalistic, and tidy, and he pushes everything over to one side of it.

"Have a seat," he orders you calmly. You sit down, glancing up at him, awaiting his instructions. He grins at you, swooping in for a kiss. "Good girl," he mutters against your lips. He pushes you back until you’re lying along the desk, and you feel him pushing the skirt up further. He runs a finger down your panties, through your tights, and you bite your finger to keep from moaning. This was embarrassing. How were you so turned on already?

"So wet already," you hear him comment. "I’m flattered."

"Please," you whimper pathetically. You wish you could give him an intelligent answer, but right now, you just needed to feel him against you.

"Be patient, babe," he replies, and you feel him ripping your tights at the crotch. He carefully pushes your panties aside and runs his finger against your folds again, this time with no separation. You arch your back as you feel him push the finger slowly inside you.

"Oh god," you pant.

"Do you want me?"

"Yes," you groan as he pushes his finger deeper inside of you.

Of course he likes teasing. He’s just the sort of guy who would. “Say my name,” he insists.

"Ch-Changmin, please," you breathe, your hands gripping the sides of the desk. You feel him slip his finger out of you, and you’re just about to complain when he climbs up on the desk, straddling you, his hands on either side of your head. He leans in to kiss you desperately, passionately. He moves down to pepper your jawline with kisses, then your neck. He starts nipping gently, and you moan as he gets to the sensitive spot by your neck. You feel him grin against your skin, and he bites harder, sucking hard enough to leave a mark. You arch your back, moaning loudly.

Thank god everyone’s gone home for the day. You always were the one to stay the latest.

Your hands reach up to fumble with Changmin’s belt, undoing it and then unbuttoning and unzipping his pants. You cup his erection through his briefs and you hear him groan. He bucks his hips involuntarily into your hand, then growls in frustration at the loss of control.

"Naughty girl," he whispers into your ear, and you shiver against him. "Nobody else has ever made me do that."

You’re so insanely turned on by this man, and by those words. You can’t help it. You slide your hands into his briefs, freeing his cock and taking it into your hand. You slowly begin to pump it, and you feel Changmin’s breath catch, all his muscles tighten.

"You’re— you’re the first one to make me lose composure like this," he pants into your ear, and you press a kiss to his neck, just below his ear. He moans as you run your finger across the sensitive head, then watches in fascination as you bring your hand up to your mouth and slowly lick the precum off the tip of your finger.

He growls again, grabbing your wrist, wrenching your hand away from your lips, and pressing his lips against yours. It’s a heated kiss, your teeth clashing, his tongue reaching deep into your mouth, sloppy, wet, but so hot.

You feel him rubbing his cock against your entrance, and you whimper. He pulls back, licking down your neck, nipping at your collarbone, leaving tiny marks to inform the world that you’re his.

"Inside me," you moan, threading your hands through his hair. "Now."

"Oh, what’s this? Giving me orders, are you?" he asks in a low voice, sounding amused. "I want to hear you beg."

"Please," you manage to say breathily.

"My name," he demands, his fingers rubbing your clit. "Say my name."

"Please, Min, please,” you choke. “I need your cock.”

"Good girl," he growls, and you feel him push inside you. You let out a cry, your vision going dark with pleasure. He’s so large, he’s all the way inside now, filling you so perfectly. Thank the lord for birth control. You wiggle your hips, trying to get him to move. You feel him peppering your neck with soft, concerned kisses. “Are you okay?”

"Y-Yes," you pant, pulling on his hair gently. "Please."

At your go-ahead, he pulls out and then pushes back inside of you. You both groan, and he continues the pace, thrusting in and out of you, rubbing your clit with his finger.

"I-I can’t," you whine, arching your back into him. "I’m going to c-come."

"Already?" he grunts into your neck. "That’s good, baby. Go ahead. Come for me."

At his words, at his command, you feel your body release itself. You shudder as your orgasm hits you, the pleasure coiling in your stomach overtaking your entire body. You feel his name falling from  your lips over and over, and you’re slightly embarrassed by how many times you say it.

Until his orgasm hits a few seconds later and he moans your name. It’s like music to your ears, and you can’t help but be deeply satisfied.

He collapses on top of you as soon as you both ride out your orgasms, his weight pressing into you comfortably. He’s panting. He sounds satisfied.

You can feel the mortification setting in, your face turning bright red.

I just fucked my boss. My boss who hates me. Oh my god. What if that was a mistake? What if he hates me even more now? What if he fires me? Goddamnit I think I’m in love with him.

"Please don’t quit," you hear his voice, small and unsure, against your neck. "I’ll treat you better. I don’t want you to leave. Please."

All your misgivings suddenly melt away, and you hug him, kissing the top of his head. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

"I’m going to be needing a personal assistant," he tells you matter-of-factly. "Would you be interested?"

"Does that mean we’ll get to do this more often?"

He chuckles, bemused. “Yes. In fact, I can even take this personal assistant out for a nice dinner date.”

"I’ll do it," you laugh, running your fingers through his hair. He nuzzles his face into your neck affectionately.

"Excellent."


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