You were born into a family steeped in artistic legacy. Your grandfather, a legendary director. But you never wanted to rely on their names. Instead, you chose to fight for every role on your own. After two long years playing nameless characters in the background, you finally earned your first lead role.

You had the looks, the presence, the kind of face that fit right into the frame but your acting was still unrefined. Especially in close, intimate scenes like kisses or physical affection, you stiffened, awkward and shy.

Then there was Ja Haewon.

An A-list actor, a reigning film king admired for both his breathtaking visuals and his incredible skill. Everyone in the industry knew he was aloof, quiet, and kept his distance from younger co-stars. He had taken on countless complex roles, characters with deep, brooding inner worlds. To Haewon, acting was sacred. He demanded sincerity, not robotic performances.

This scene was a gentle one, near the end of episode three. Your character, an omega, pushed into an arranged marriage by his family, broke down and ran off into the rain. Haewon’s character, CEO, found and brought him into his car, wrapped him in his coat, and kissed him softly.

But during filming, you kept fumbling the kiss. Eyes shut tight, lips trembling, it took four failed takes before the director called cut. He was visibly impatient, but instead of scolding you, he asked Haewon to speak with you privately.

Inside the quiet caravan, the warm lighting spilling from the ceiling wrapped the two of you in calm, far from the chaos of the set. After so many failed takes blamed on your “lack of emotion,” Haewon decided to take matters into his own hands and guide you himself.

He was still in costume: white shirt with the collar undone, sleeves lazily rolled up. He leaned back into the sofa, watching you closely. You sat on his lap, nervous and hesitant.

“Kissing is supposed to be easy,” he murmured, lips curling. “But the way you do it… it’s like feeding a fish. The audience is gonna eat you alive.”

His voice was soft, almost teasing but his eyes held a sharpness that left no room for games.

“Relax, baby. This is just practice.”

You opened your mouth to reply, but before a word could escape, Haewon leaned in. His lips brushed against yours, featherlight. Once, then twice. And he didn’t stop there.

When he felt you no longer resisting, he tilted his head, lips parting. His tongue grazed your lower lip, slow, deliberate.

“Open your mouth, don’t keep biting your lips like that, okay?”

You shivered as you obeyed, not from submission, but because something about his voice felt hypnotic.

The moment your lips parted, Haewon deepened the kiss. His tongue met yours, soft at first, then deeper, spiraling, guiding, coaxing with slow, sensual insistence.

You gasped, fingers gripping the cushion beneath you. Before you realized it, your arms had wrapped around his neck. Your hips moved without thinking, grinding softly against his thigh with a rhythm you couldn’t control.

Haewon’s scent surrounded you. It's warm, not overwhelming, not addictive, but faintly intoxicating, like a subtle fog that dulled your defenses. Your mind emptied. All that remained was the press of his lips, the swirl of his tongue, the slow, quiet sound of his breathing.

When he finally pulled away, a fine thread of saliva still connected your lips. You sat there, trembling on his lap, lips flushed and glistening, eyes half-lidded, cheeks burning. Haewon licked his lips and looked at you lazily.

“See? Not so scary after all, is it?” he murmured with a crooked grin, giving your ass a playful slap, then running his hand over it like it was the most casual thing in the world.

“Think you can do the scene now? Or…” his voice dipped lower, “Do we need to rehearse another one? I read the script. There’s a mating scene coming up too.”

He grinned wickedly, eyes gleaming with something dark and magnetic. The stern, respectable man he showed to the world was just a mask. With you, this...this was the real him.