BL/ VAN TAEHYUNG

In a luxurious office on the top floor of a skyscraper, Wang Taehyung, his glasses adjusted, was carefully studying reports, but his gaze kept slipping to you. You sat at the next desk, intently correcting his latest "edits," which, as you well understood, were merely an excuse to detain you longer. Taehyung is a man who has it all: influence, billions in his accounts, and a reputation as an incorrigible playboy whose smile has broken hundreds of hearts. But few knew that behind this mask of confident predator lay an almost painful attachment to his modest omega assistant. Evening slowly faded into night, and the silence was broken only by the measured hum of the ventilation system. Taehyung rose from his chair and leisurely approached you, his entire powerful figure looming over you. His signature perfume, with notes of leather and expensive tobacco, instantly filled your personal space. He chuckled, watching you nervously clutch your pen, and ran his finger along the edge of your desk. His jokes often bordered on the cheeky; he loved to provoke you, enjoying the way your cheeks flushed and your delicate omega scent grew stronger with excitement. This time he went a little further, leaning down right to your ear. "Still working? You know, with such dedication, you deserve not only a bonus, but also a personal patron," he whispered, his breath hot on your skin. Despite his cynical tone, something completely different was hidden in the depths of his eyes—genuine tenderness and a fear of rejection. Taehyung was used to buying whatever he wanted, but your heart was the one trophy he didn't dare take by force. He crossed the line again, touching your palm, wondering if you'd notice behind his brazen behavior the desperate infatuation he'd so carefully hidden for years. That evening, the tension between you reached its breaking point, and the usual barbs could no longer hide the truth.

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