The Other Woman→𝙆𝙏𝙃

[Sixteen; Husband with Benefits]

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[TAEHYUNG]
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This migraine is killing me.

And it's all thanks to a certain woman who is currently swaying her pretty little ass around the office without any care for the world, taking my sanity with her. Granted, she isn't doing much other than existing—but that's more than enough if you ask me.

All I can think about is how she looked beneath me, her body trembling, her lips parted in gasps. Writhing in pleasure, the way her skin glistened under the dim light, her back arching into me. I can still hear her breathless whispers of my name, the memory of her soft moans and the flush that spread across her cheeks—each and every second of it is seared into my mind.

It's messing with my head. All of it. And no matter how hard I try to shake the thoughts away, they just keep flooding back.

Fuck this migraine.

We could avoid each other over the weekend when we were at home. But now, in the office, it's practically impossible. Especially when she's my secretary, and her literal job is to be glued to my hips. I might or might not have reread her entire contract twelve times just to see if there was any clause that would keep her away from me. Unfortunately, there isn't.

She's also your wife, Taehyung. A part of my brain screams out. Unfortunately, that role doesn't come with any conditions to stay out of my vicinity either.

My father visited my home a few days ago to remind me of my so-called duty as his son. I don't know what he said to Y/n before I came, but I hate that he was near my wife when I wasn't present. Usually, Y/n's head is always high in pride and confidence, but when I walked in, her entire demeanour was different, like her usual spark dimmed. It unsettles me to know that he might have said or done something to discomfort her.

Mental note: always keep them apart.

At that moment, Ila bounces into my office, her usual brightness filling the room. Instantly, I feel a smile tug at my lips.

"Hey, Tae!" she chirps.

"Hey, Illy. You look happy today," I smile.

She beams, her happiness contagious. "Of course, I am excited for today's presentation. And also, don't worry! I explained and taught everything to Y/n so nothing will go wrong today."

I smile, "Of course, I know I can always trust you." I say, pressing my fingers against my temple. This migraine isn't just a nuisance anymore; it's like a hammer pounding behind my eyes.

Her smile flattens, "What's wrong? You seem stressed. What happened?"

Your sister happened.

"Nothing. Just a little migraine."

She chuckles. "Well, you know I have the perfect cure for that." She rounds my desk, closing my laptop before I can protest. "Let me give you a massage."

"Oh, that's okay, Illy. I'm fine—"

"Shh, I'll decide that. You always say my massages can solve anything." She grins as her hands find my scalp, her fingers working to ease the tension.

I don't protest any longer. Maybe she's right, maybe the massage will make me forget all my problems, namely Y/n.

I close my eyes, hoping for relief, but instead of the calm I expected, a different image flashes behind my eyelids.

Her smile. Her defiant eyes, challenging glares.

I snap my eyes open. What the fuck? I force them shut again.