Ffleurer | 01

éffleurer | 01

There were always whispers in your office about what secrets Seokjin hid behind his clean image. Now, you knew at least one of them.

Pairing: Seokjin x Female Reader

Genre: CFO!Jin AU; Smut

Word Count: 4,900+

Warnings: Profanity, mentions of sex, mature themes

Notes: Sections entirely in italics denote a flashback

If you enjoy my writing, please consider buying me a ko-fi

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At your illustrious accounting firm, Seokjin was only known to be an all-around good guy, the type to spend his weekends attending charity events where he handed over huge checks or buying backpacks filled with supplies for school drives. Last year, he had even headed a project to help local businesses fix their struggling budget books, saving countless small shop owners throughout the district.

And with luck on your side, after being hired into this proverbial den of wolves, you found yourself blessed with a boss whose kindness and good looks were only overshadowed by the trust the CEO seemed to have in him and the results he brought in for the company. Results you now had the pleasure of helping him bring in. And if anyone was more than pleased with making Seokjin happy, it was you.

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rockabye

With the sting of your divorce renewed by the winter chill in the air, you certainly weren’t looking for anything like love this Christmas. But even flowers can blossom from deep within the snow.

Pairing: Taehyung x Female Reader

Genre: Fluff, Angst, Flower Shop AU

Word Count: 8,900+

Warnings: Profanity; Alcohol; Physical assault; Physical and verbal abuse; References to drugs

A/N: The “Jaeseong” character is an original character and should not be associated with any real person of similar name. Also, this story is a rework of a story I previously wrote entitled Honeysuckle.

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⤑ made-up love song i.

Your first encounter with Kim Seokjin doesn’t go so well, nor your second, or your third… and maybe that’s because it shouldn’t work on paper. You’re an elementary school teacher living with your best friend, and have never left the country despite hitting the third decade of your life not so long ago. He’s the dad of one of your students, nearly a decade older than you and divorced. Oh yes, and just another minor detail – he’s a multimillionaire.

Your lives are lightyears apart, yet somehow, your paths having now crossed, things just seem to fall into place…

pairing; kim seokjin x reader  genre/warnings; strangers to lovers, romance, eventual smut, eventual angst, single dad! seokjin, ceo! seokjin, elementary school teacher! oc, age gap (oc is 30, seokjin is 37), seokjin is a dilf, not really much to warn in this first chapter, there’s some flirting, oc doesn’t want to admit she finds seokjin dishy, she’s possibly in denial that there’s a spark there, jimin and soobin appear 🥰 words; 11,028 

↪︎ chapter index

chapters; i • ii • iii • iv • v • vi • vii • viii  • ix • x • epilogue  (+ drabbles)

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Induratize (m) | 01

Pairing: Prince!Jimin x Princess!Reader

Genre: Royalty AU.

Warnings: Angst, Smut (future), Fluff.

Words: 7k

Summary: Prince Jimin had grown up despising people from your empire and vice versa. When your father weds you to the crowned Prince of Haelyra, your kingdom’s sworn enemies, as a form of alliance to fight a greater evil, you struggle to make sense of your new life as the future Queen to be and deal with a husband who cannot stand you.

A/N: this is the cliche cold prince and sweet princess (mostly) trope bc @jimin-calicocat and I are sucker for those. also this is dedicated to her as well uwu. Ty for hyping me up. This is just the start as it will be hopefully a short series but no smut in the first chap this time lads. Gotta build up to the sexy times :))) don’t forget to drop by and let me know how you liked this fhjbfjwerefhjrebf bye. Moodboard cred. to @yminie

This was it. The day had finally come. Not that you were awaiting it too eagerly. You had contemplated running away, really. But where could you go? On one side of your kingdom lay the Auzopan Empire whose threat of invasion was already becoming imminent. The other lay the Haelyra Dynasty, your kingdom Munia Empire’s sworn enemies for generations. Rivals that have been slaughtering your kingdom’s peoples for centuries and vice versa. It was a never ending battle of making sure the other did not get the last kill. It was horrific and preposterous but it had been this way for as long as you could remember. And you were to marry the crowned prince from that same kingdom, Park Jimin, in less than an hour. Tales of the brutishness of his empire had been the ones you’d grown up hearing from the maids in your castle. The same tales mothers told their crying children at night to quieten their shrieks. Tales your father told his own kingdom in favour of inciting appreciation from his people for his generosity as a king, as a protector of your nation. But where did that get him? Indebted to the same King he had claimed would tear your nation apart if it hadn’t been for your family ruling the land, making sure the beasts were at bay and to make sure his people where never intimidated.

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Launderette

Seokjin asks you to accompany him to an event that his ex and her new fiance are attending. What starts as a casual date ends up becoming more than you bargained for.

Pairing: Seokjin x F!reader

Rating: 18+

Genre: Non-idol AU, smut, angst

Word count: 10.4k

Warnings: Sexually explicit scenes, explicit language

The early Saturday morning sunshine bathes the street in a flattering pale gold glow, and by the time you’ve reached your uncle’s dry-cleaning shop to open up, you’ve shaken the last of the sleep from your eyes and are ready to go.

Your uncle, Che, has owned this shop for twenty years, inheriting it from your grandfather. It’s part of a small street of shops you’ve known all your life, from Oscar’s convenience store to Maribel the hairdressers, stretching all the way to the shiny new community centre that opened last year.

You unlock the door and scan through the collections list for today. You’re about to start a load of items when the door opens.

A tall, well-dressed man steps in.

You smile at him. ‘Good morning, how can I help you?’ you ask.

He nods politely at you. ‘I picked up a suit yesterday, but it’s still stained,’ he says, holding up the garment bag he’s carrying.

‘Oh, I’m sorry,’ you say, apologetically. ‘May I?’

You unzip his garment bag, revealing a beautiful light grey suit with an ink stain on the lapel.

Your uncle walks into the store as you’re examining the stain. ‘Mr Kim,’ he says, greeting the customer like he’s an old friend. ‘Can I help you?’

Mr Kim tells him what he’s just told you.

‘I’ll take care of this myself,’ Che promises him.

You spend the day taking care of older orders, pressing suits and delicates, double checking the clothes on the collections list.

It’s near the close of business when Mr Kim comes back. You’re on your own, your uncle’s left to pick your cousin up from baseball practice.

He smiles at you as you hand him his now perfect suit.

‘You don’t have anywhere in here where I could get changed, do you?’ he asks, looking a little embarrassed to be asking.

You laugh. ‘Sure. Go in the back and I promise not to look.’

He comes out as you’re finishing off tidying up.

‘Looking good,’ you tell him, amused, as he comes out.

You’re not flattering him, the grey suit emphasizes his broad shoulders, and tapers down beautifully to his trim waist. The trouser length is perfect.

You hold out your arms for the clothes he was wearing when he came in. ‘I can hold on to those here for you, if you want?’

He smiles at you gratefully. ‘Thank you. It’s just, I’m going out to a pre-wedding dinner with some friends, and it’s close to here, so it’s easier than going all the way home.’

‘No problem, where are you going?’ you ask, walking him out of the shop. You pause to lock up, and he waits beside you.

‘Just a little Peruvian place down the road from here,’ he says.

‘Pachamama?’ you guess. You check the door’s locked, pull the shutter down and lock it, and turn to look up at him in the late afternoon sun.

‘Yeah, you know it?’ he asks.

You smile at him. ‘I love it. The food’s amazing, my roommate Dia is one of the chefs.’

‘Do you want to come with?’ he asks, suddenly. He hesitates. ‘I mean, if you’re free tonight.’

You look up at him curiously.

‘It’s a pre-wedding dinner for my friend Namjoon, he’s getting married next week.’ He looks at you, and he almost seems shy, different from the confident persona he has in his beautiful suit.

‘My ex is going to be there, with her new fiancée.’ He smiles suddenly, self-deprecatingly, and it lights up his face. ‘It’s probably silly, but I guess I could use the company. I haven’t seen them together yet, I’ve been worrying about it all week.’

Something about his honesty touches you. Plus you love the food.

‘Sure,’ you say. ‘I need to get dressed though.’

He smiles, and he looks relieved, like a weight’s fallen off his shoulders.

‘I’m Y/N,’ you say.

‘Seokjin,’ he tells you, manners impeccable. ‘Lovely to meet you.’

‘Seokjin,’ you say, testing out the syllables. ‘Do you want to drop by mine whilst I get ready? You’re probably a little early anyway.’

‘I’d like that,’ he tells you.

You take Seokjin to the tiny apartment you share with Dia. She’s on her way out when you get back.

‘I’m out all night,’ she says, waggling her brows outrageously at you and Seokjin, before you’ve even introduced him.

You burst out laughing. ‘Seokjin and I are going to Pachamama tonight.’

‘Seokjin. Great to meet you, I’m Dia. I’ll make sure you’re looked after tonight,’ Dia promises him. ‘Gotta go. I’m running late.’

She hurries out the door, and you smile affectionately. ‘We’ve known each other our whole lives,’ you tell Seokjin.

He’s looking around your tiny living room, barely big enough for two armchairs and a coffee table. The colourful throws over your armchairs liven up the place, as do the plants you painstakingly look after. There’s a breeze coming from your living room window, and a view of the next building. You love your little place.

You pour him a glass of wine from the bottle Dia’s left uncorked. ‘Get comfy, I’ll be twenty minutes.’

You touch up your makeup and slip on a black dress and heels. Your hair is behaving itself today, so you leave it to its own devices.

When you come out of your bedroom, Seokjin is perched by your open window.

‘Hot?’ you ask, sympathetically. ‘It’s boiling up here in the summer.’

He gets up. ‘Just checking out the view. But you are.’

‘But I am?’ you ask, a little confused.

‘Hot,’ Seokjin tells you.

You laugh, flattered despite yourself. ‘You are too,’ you tell him.

He offers you his arm. ‘Shall we go?’

On the walk to the restaurant, he tells you a little about his friends who are getting married. Namjoon works for a publishing company, as does his fiancée, Nara. They went to university together.

The other guests are members of the wedding party, friends of Nara’s and Namjoon’s. His ex, Hana, is good friends with Nara, and one of the bridesmaids.

As you walk into the restaurant, you’re greeted by Miguel, Dia’s boyfriend.

‘Y/N,’ he says, warmly. ‘Dia said you were coming, and bringing a date.’

‘It’s not a date,’ you say, laughing. ‘I’m accompanying a friend to a pre-wedding dinner. Seokjin, meet Miguel.’

‘The rest of your party’s already here,’ Miguel tells you and Seokjin.

As Miguel walks you to your table, you aren’t sure what to expect.

You definitely aren’t expecting the crowd of beautiful people you see. But maybe that was remiss of you, because Seokjin is beautiful, so why wouldn’t his friends be?

A tall man comes up to embrace Seokjin warmly. He turns to you, and you try not to stare at the pretty dimples that appear in his cheeks as he smiles down at you.

‘I’m Namjoon,’ he says. ‘This is my fiancé, Nara.’

You greet them politely. Nara is gorgeous, tall like Namjoon, with a mane of dark hair and legs that go on for days.

The next people to greet you are blond man with an outrageously flirtatious grin who introduces himself as Jimin, and a quiet man with a deep voice called Yoongi.

You’re trying your best to remember everyone’s names.

Beside you, Jin stiffens a little, and you look up to see a very beautiful woman. She’s around your height, and like Namjoon, when she smiles, dimples pop in her cheeks.

‘Jin,’ she says. She embraces him, and you don’t miss the way Jin automatically leans down so she can reach. It’s a learned movement, almost automatic, and you wonder how long they were together.

The handsome man behind her smiles at you. ‘I’m Minho, Hana’s fiancé,’ he tells you.

There are more introductions, more names you try hard to remember, but it’s all a bit of a blur by now.

You settle in with a beer next to Jin. ‘You ok?’ you ask, touching his arm.

He looks at you, and there’s something like gratitude in his eyes. ‘Yeah,’ he says.

He gestures to the menu. ‘What do you like?’

‘Tell you what, why don’t I ask what your friends like and I’ll get Dia to sort us out?’ you ask.

Your idea goes down a treat, and you slip out to the kitchen to see Dia, leaving Jin catching up with his friends.

Dia smiles knowingly at you. ‘Seokjin, huh? He’s hot.’ She calls out an order, and you hope the heat from the warming counter is enough to account for your warm cheeks so she doesn’t tease you.

‘He said I was hot,’ you say.

‘You are hot. That whole table is hot. Tell me why I decided to spend my days in a kitchen instead of being wined and dined?’ Dia rolls her eyes exaggeratedly.

‘Because anyone can be wined and dined but it takes talent to do what you do?’ you ask.

Dia waves you away from the pass. ‘Get out of my kitchen and back to gorgeous Jin. I love you, Y/N. I’m going to make you a meal that’ll make Jin fall in love with you.’

She winks at you. ‘Then I’ll cater your wedding.’

You’re still laughing to yourself as you head back to the dining room.

Jin’s in the middle of a playful argument with one of his handsome friends, when Nara turns to you.

‘How do you know Jin?’ she asks.

‘Oh, I work at a dry cleaners. Jin drops his suits off to us,’ you say.

Nara smiles. ‘That tracks. Jin’s so particular about his clothes.’

‘I just want to do justice to this gorgeous face,’ Jin says, straight-faced.

‘You are pretty,’ you agree.

The food arrives, and to your pleasure, everyone seems to enjoy it, Namjoon, in particular.

Yoongi leans over. ‘Thanks for ordering for us, Y/N, the food is great.’

‘It’s a pleasure,’ you say easily. ‘My friend Dia’s great, isn’t she?’

‘She definitely is,’ Jimin says.

Dinner goes smoothly, Jin’s friends are charming, funny and try to include you in everything. You think Jin’s having a good time as well, he don’t know him that well but to you he looks more relaxed as the evening goes on.

Everyone’s going dancing after dinner, but you’ve got to be in early to open up the dry cleaners tomorrow, so you say your goodbyes.

You turn to Jin. ‘Thanks for having me,’ you say. ‘I had a nice time.’

Jin looks down at you. ‘I’ll walk you home.’

‘It’s only down the block, Jin,’ you protest.

Jin insists. He’s a nice guy, the more you get to know him the more you realise that his politeness seems to be ingrained in him. He’s unfailingly considerate, making sure you had enough on your plate, that your drink was topped up throughout dinner.

You wonder what he thinks of you.

You stop by the steps leading up to your building. ‘I guess I’ll see you around,’ you say, a little hesitantly.

‘Thank you,’ Jin says. ‘I was more stressed about it than I realised.’

You nod. ‘It was a pleasure.’

You’re about to turn away when he says, ‘there’s another dinner tomorrow night. It’s at a great sushi place downtown.’

‘Yeah?’ you ask.

‘Yeah. I don’t know if you like sushi, but I’d love it if you could join me.’ Jin looks at you, waiting.

‘I love sushi,’ you say, and a warm smile blooms on his face.

‘I’ll pick you up at seven,’ he says. ‘We should probably exchange numbers.’

If someone asked, you don’t think you’d be able to explain why your heart feels so light as you skip up the stairs to your tiny top floor apartment.

***

Jin’s running late to pick you up, so you tell him you’ll meet him at the restaurant.

You’re waiting outside, wondering if you should go in, when two of Jin’s friends from last night approach you.

You recognise Yoongi, but you don’t remember the name of the other man. He’s tall, with a tattoo sleeve and an emo vibe you could get behind.

Yoongi greets you with what seems like genuine pleasure in his voice. ‘Y/N. Let’s go in.’

You head into the restaurant with Yoongi and the tattooed man, wondering if you’re dressed up enough. It’s an upscale Japanese fusion restaurant, with a sushi bar and a calming water feature at the entrance.

When you get to the table, Namjoon and Nara are already there, talking quietly to Hana and Minho.

Yoongi’s thrilled when he discovers you watch basketball, and is giving you a play-by-play of the game you missed earlier in the week when the tattooed man leans closer, and says, in an amused voice, ‘don’t mind hyung, he’s been talking about the game all week.’

‘At least Y/N’s polite enough to pretend to listen, Jungkook,’ Yoongi says, rolling his eyes.

You laugh at his expression. ‘I was listening, actually. If you’re in town we should go and catch a game together sometime.’

Yoongi insists on exchanging numbers with you. You’re saving his number on your phone when Jin rushes up to you, a little breathless.

He’s flushed and glowy, and he looks gorgeous as ever. ‘I’m so sorry,’ he says. He focuses in on you. ‘I’m sorry I couldn’t come and pick you up,’ he tells you.

‘It’s ok, Jin, Yoongi’s been talking her ear off,’ Jungkook says, smiling at you mischievously.

Jin looks apologetic as he slides in next to you. ‘It’s fine, Jin,’ you tell him, patting his arm.

In between your entrée and dessert, you excuse yourself to get some fresh air, and stand for a moment admiring the water feature at the entrance.

‘Pretty, isn’t it?’ Jin asks. He smiles charmingly at you. ‘I really am sorry I was so late.’

‘Are you sure you don’t just like making a dramatic entrance?’ you ask, teasingly.

He laughs, self-deprecatingly. ‘Yes, but today wasn’t about that.’ He rubs the back of his neck. ‘I actually got sweaty hurrying here. There was so much traffic the taxi couldn’t get close.’

‘You’re cute when you’re sweaty,’ you tell him, watching the koi carp weave their way through the artificial stream.

‘And you look beautiful,’ Jin tells you.

You smile up at him. ‘I wasn’t sure you’d like my style. You seem like a classic kind of guy.’

‘It’s true, you do look too cool for me. You’d probably match better with Jungkook or Yoongi, clothes wise,’ Jin says, seriously. ‘Maybe you can style me.’

‘I think you’re perfect how you are,’ you say. ‘Lawyer chic is trending now.’

Jin laughs. ‘I actually am a lawyer.’

You chuckle. ‘Nothing wrong with that, Jin.’

He holds out his arm to you. ‘Come on. I ordered you dessert.’

Jin and you have similar tastes in food. He’s pleased when you rave over the matcha ice-cream he’s ordered you.

‘Let’s toast to Nara and Namjoon,’ Jungkook says, lifting his glass.

You lift your glass obligingly, and catch the way Hana’s looking at Jin as you toast.

He’s oblivious, smiling and joking with Yoongi. You glance at Minho, and realise he’s looking back at you. There’s a sardonic curl to his lips as he tips his glass to you.

The plum sake Namjoon has ordered is so delicious you drink way too much of it before you realise how strong it is.

You’re sipping water, trying to ward off the effects of the alcohol, when you feel Jin’s eyes on you. He nudges you, gently, leaning close so no one else can hear.

‘You ok?’ he asks, quietly.

‘I may have drunk too much,’ you whisper to him, worried.

He looks at you, at your wide eyes, your warm cheeks, and a corner of his mouth curls up.

‘I’ll take care of you,’ he says.

Jin orders you more water and a black coffee, and lets you lean into him as everyone else chats.

Yoongi, on the other side of you, passes you his water. He smiles at you kindly when you take a big gulp.

‘Don’t worry,’ he says.

You can feel your whole face heating up. ‘Do I look like a tomato, Yoongi?’ you ask.

Yoongi’s deep chuckle makes you smile. Jin turns to you. ‘I’d say more of a strawberry,’ he tells you. He hugs you to him, and you’re so self-conscious you miss the way his friends exchange glances at the way usually conservative Jin is holding you in front of them.

Jin hails a taxi after dinner. He nudges you. ‘Hey, quiet girl.’

There’s affection in his voice.

‘I’m too drunk to talk,’ you announce to him.

Jin laughs. ‘You’re cute.’

‘I hope I didn’t embarrass you in front of your friends,’ you say, widening your eyes.

Jin laughs again. ‘Please. Yoongi’s already texted me asking when we’re going to see you again.’

‘He’s cute too,’ you say.

‘Cuter than me?’ Jin asks in mock-outrage.

‘Maybe,’ you say. You peer at his face in the darkness of the taxi, and he winks at you.

‘Definitely,’ you say, nodding to yourself.

You fend off his hands as he tries to tickle you.

‘Take it back,’ Jin says, threateningly.

You double down. ‘Yoongi’s the finest man I’ve ever seen,’ you say firmly.

‘He’s the best,’ Jin concedes.

The taxi pulls up outside your building, and Jin gets out to help you out.

You stop outside your door. ‘I can take it from here,’ you say, smiling up at Jin.

He looks beautiful in the light from the streetlamps, his skin gleaming like burnished gold.

He looks at you for a moment, and there’s a flicker of something in his eyes that you can’t quite read.

‘Thanks for another great night,’ you say.

‘Thank you for making it great,’ he tells you. He shuffles his feet a little.

‘The wedding’s on Friday. I’d really like it if you’d be my date. Namjoon and Nara would love to have you.’

‘Is Yoongi going?’ you ask. You smile mischievously at him.

Jin rolls his eyes. ‘Brat.’

You touch his arm. ‘I’d love to go with you,’ you say, and you mean it.

‘It’s a date,’ Jin says.

You unlock your door, and he calls out after you.

‘Make sure you drink water!’

‘Yes dad,’ you say.

He laughs, and it’s the last thing you hear before your door closes.

***

Dia is excited to hear that Jin and his friends loved her food, and even more excited to hear that you’re meeting Jin again.

‘He’s way better looking than Leon,’ she tells you.

You’re sipping water and tucking into the huge breakfast she made you.

Leon is your ex-boyfriend, a guy you met at a club. You knew from the start that he was a great dancer, from your second date that he was great in bed. It took you another two months of dating him to realise he was also incredibly hot headed, impulsive and prone to starting fights.

You don’t mind a bit of drama, but after the third bar fight you pulled him out of, there was a moment when he turned on you - and that second of uncertainty wasn’t something you wanted to relive.

‘Jin’s gorgeous,’ you agree. ‘All his friends are.’

‘I told Miguel I’d use up a free pass on that tattooed guy,’ Dia says, pretending to fan herself. She gets up to refill your coffee mug.

You giggle. ‘How many free passes do you have?’ You know she’d never actually follow through, her and Miguel have been dating since high school.

Dia ignores you. ‘So where’s the wedding?’ she asks.

‘The Albion,’ you tell her.

‘So fancy,’ Dia says. ‘Want me to do your hair?’ She twirls a finger into your ponytail.

‘Sure, baby,’ you say. ‘Thanks for breakfast.’

‘Anytime,’ Dia says. ‘Up for a swim later?’

‘I’ll see you there,’ you promise.

***

You wave goodbye to Che and head down the street towards the community centre to meet Dia.

The community centre is newly built, and in your opinion, great for the neighbourhood. It’s got a pool, tennis courts, an indoor basketball court, a huge hall and baseball field. Your cousin plays little league here.

You swim a few laps with Dia and are walking home with a cherry snow-cone from the cart outside the community centre when you see a familiar frame.

‘Jin?’ you call.

He turns when he hears his name, and a smile spreads over his face. ‘What are you doing in the neighbourhood?’ you ask.

He holds up a garment bag. ‘I came to pick up my dry cleaning,’ he says.

Dia smiles at Seokjin. ‘What are you doing for dinner? I was going to try out a new recipe.’

Jin smiles at her. ‘I couldn’t impose.’

‘There’ll be plenty,’ you assure him. ‘Besides, you know what an amazing cook Dia is.’

‘You are great,’ Jin agrees.

Dia insists on you and Jin taking a walk before dinner so you don’t ‘get in the way’, as she puts it.

You take Jin to the park.

‘I’ve been thinking about you,’ he tells you. ‘I really am grateful that you’re accompanying me to all these wedding events.’

‘I’m having fun,’ you tell him. ‘How are you holding up?’

Jin looks out at the grass in front of him, at the setting sun. His profile is beautiful cast in pinks and oranges.

‘They look happy,’ he says, finally.

‘How long were you together?’ you ask, gently.

‘Five years. I wanted to marry her,’ Jin says. ‘She met Minho at work. She broke up with me.’ He glances at you, and there’s pain in his eyes.

‘That’s tough,’ you commiserate.

‘My family still ask me about her,’ Jin says.

You roll your eyes. ‘I dated a man for 2 months and my mom still asks about him.’

Jin grins at you. ‘That’s harsh.’

‘Tell me about it,’ you agree. You nudge him. ‘Come on. We can drown our sorrows in beer and gorgeous food.’

You walk back to your apartment, and true to form, Dia’s made an incredible meal.

You walk Jin out after dinner.

He leans against your door, and with the top two buttons of his shirt undone, his throat exposed, his hair carelessly pushed back over his forehead, he looks delectable.

You make a concerted effort not to stare.

‘So, see you Friday?’ you ask.

‘I can’t wait,’ he tells you. He leans close, and for a second you think he’s about to kiss you, but he turns away.

You watch him go, trying to calm the fluttering in your stomach.

Dia smiles affectionately at you as you come back up.

‘He’s pretty hung up over his ex,’ she says.

‘Yeah,’ you agree.

‘But he also can’t stop staring at you,’ she points out.

‘Mans got needs,’ you say, pulling her into a hug.

Dia ruffles your hair. ‘I’m just saying, I can’t get a read on him. Proceed with caution, my love.’

‘I’ll guard my heart,’ you tell her.

Dia smirks. ‘You do that. But also climb that man like a tree. Fuck he’s gorgeous.’

You burst out laughing. ‘Thanks for the advice, baby. Now go. I’ll clean up.’

***

Jin rings the doorbell, and you hurry down the steps to greet him.

He’s stunning. He’s wearing a tuxedo, perfectly tailored to fit him, as are all his suits, and his hair’s styled back. You try not to stare at his beautiful lips.

‘Whoa, are you real?’ you joke.

You expect him to laugh, but he’s quiet. Then you realise he’s staring at you.

You shift, a little self-conscious. ‘Do I look ok?’

He blinks. ‘God, I’m sorry you had to ask that,’ he tells you, and warmth blooms in your chest. ‘You look very beautiful. You look perfect.’

He holds out his arm to you. ‘I’m looking forward to having you on my arm tonight.’

You pull up outside the hotel at the same time as Yoongi, Jungkook and Jimin. Yoongi smiles at you warmly when he sees you, and Jungkook immediately pulls Jin aside to complain about how long Jimin took to get ready.

The banquet hall is stunning, decorated with a gold and silver theme. You’re taking a sip of your champagne when Hana and Minho approach you.

‘You look lovely,’ Hana tells you, politely.

‘You do too,’ you say, automatically, but it’s true. Hana’s wearing a beautiful red dress that skims over her figure. She looks expensive, flawless. Minho is equally well-dressed, but in your opinion Jin’s way better looking.

‘This colour scheme is gorgeous,’ Hana comments. She looks up at Minho. ‘We should do something similar for our wedding.’

‘When are you getting married?’ you ask.

‘Next summer,’ Hana replies.

You don’t know if Jin knows, but you know you need to change the subject quickly as he’s making his way over to you.

‘If you like Peruvian food, there’s a new restaurant that’s just opened up downtown that my friend Dia recommends,’ you blurt out.

Minho and Hana look at you strangely.

Jin reaches you then, and you smile at him. ‘We were just talking about Peruvian food,’ you tell him.

Hana turns to Jin. ‘Lovely to see you, Jin.’

Jin smiles at her, and he does that automatic tilt down so she can hug him. This time, it makes your heart squeeze a little.

You get an inkling then that you might be in trouble here.

You can’t develop feelings for a man who’s still pining over his ex.

You excuse yourself and go over to the balcony to get some air.

You’re looking out at the city view when you hear two older women mention Jin’s name.

‘I was surprised that Kim Seokjin and Lee Hana broke off their engagement,’ an older woman wearing black says.

‘It would have been fantastic for their families,’ the woman next to her agrees.

‘She seems happy with Chan Minho, though,’ the first woman says. ‘I wonder if Kim Seokjin’s moved on as well?’

‘He’s here with a girl. She’s not from a family we know, I doubt it’s anything serious.’

You’re a little thrown by this, by your feature in a conversation by people you don’t know. You gulp down the rest of your champagne, and feel a hand on your arm.

You look up and it’s Yoongi.

‘There’s a lot of gossip at these weddings,’ he says, not looking at you. He’s not loud, but his voice carries just the same in the clear night. You follow his line of vision, and realise he’s looking at the two women who were gossiping.

‘They’re about to start, let’s go to our table,’ he says. He holds out his arm, and you slip your fingers into the crook of it.

‘If you’re not from this world, consider yourself lucky,’ he tells you. He looks at you then. ‘People love talking about other people. It's meaningless.’

You smile gratefully at him. ‘I know that, Yoongi.’

He nods. ‘Has Seokjin told you how beautiful you look?’

You tug at your earring, and his fingers come up to straighten it.

‘I’m sure he has,’ Yoongi says. ‘Just in case you need to hear it again, you look stunning.’

He smiles at you. ‘Come on. The food is meant to be excellent.’

The food is excellent, the service impeccable. Namjoon and Nara are well-loved, judging by the speeches and the reactions of the guests. Jin's speech is characteristically sweet and funny. You sigh as you lean back in your seat. You love weddings.

You look around for Jin as the lights go down and the music starts to play.

You spot him, standing beside Hana. He leans down to her, and she takes his arm, smiling up at him.

He doesn’t see you, because he isn’t looking around. He’s only got eyes for Hana, and even you can appreciate how lovely they look, together.

The song that’s playing is slow, romantic. You recognise the singer, it’s one of your favourite songs at a wedding. Jin and Hana dance like they’ve been doing it for years, and you guess they have.

You look around for Minho, and realise he’s looking straight at you. He looks like he’s heading your way, and that makes you a little nervous, so you tap Jimin on the shoulder.

‘Want to dance?’ you ask Jimin. He looks a little surprised but agrees readily enough.

It turns out Jimin is an amazing dancer. There’s not much of a height difference between you, especially in your heels, and it makes it easy to follow his lead.

‘You’re so good!’ you tell Jimin, exhilarated.

He just smiles at you. ‘I love dancing,’ he tells you. ‘You’re a good partner.’

‘There’s a club near Pachamama that does live music on a Thursday, we should go sometime. You’d love it,’ you tell him.

You feel a tap on your shoulder. ‘Mind if I cut in?’ Jin asks.

Jimin lets go of you, telling you he’ll text you when he’s free to go dancing.

If Jimin’s an amazing dancer, so is Seokjin, though not necessarily for the same reasons. Jin is goofy, entertaining, secure enough in his good looks that he doesn’t mind looking silly to make you laugh.

You’re giggling at him when you see his expression change. You follow his line of vision and realise he’s looking at Hana and Minho, dancing together.

‘You ok?’ you ask, gently. ‘We can go if you want.’

‘Yeah,’ he tells you. ‘Let’s get out of here.’

He’s a little quiet in the taxi to your apartment.

‘Hey, you want to come up? We can watch a movie. Dia made this amazing lime granita today,’ you suggest. You can’t bear seeing him so deflated. You know what it’s like to not be over an ex.

Jin looks at you, and you smile. ‘I also have tequila,’ you coax.

The oversized sweats you toss Jin to change into are straining a little around the shoulders, but he looks good.

You put on a rom-com and fix margaritas for you and Jin.

‘To drinking our sorrows away,’ you say, holding up your glass. Jin clinks glasses with you, looking at you curiously.

‘What are your sorrows?’ he asks.

‘I work at a dry cleaners owned by my uncle. I’ll probably never be able to afford to buy my own place in this city. I’m single, and my last boyfriend was more interested in starting fights than spending romantic evenings with me.’ You smile at Jin, to let him know you aren’t entirely serious.

He touches your arm. ‘You’re beautiful, and kind and interesting. You live with your best friend who from what I can see, adores you, and I don’t blame her, because everyone who meets you seems to like you.’ He pauses. ‘And your last boyfriend? He sounds like an idiot.’

You’re touched. You take a sip of your margarita whilst you gather your thoughts. ‘He was an idiot,’ you say, finally. Your eyes meet Jin’s. ‘He tried to fight someone over a spilt beer.’

Jin looks thoughtful. ‘If I were going to fight someone it’d have to be something worth my time.’

You snort. ‘You tried to arm wrestle Jungkook for the last piece of sashimi the other night.’

‘I won, didn’t it?’ Jin retorts, looking proud.

‘Trust me, no one was expecting that outcome,’ you mutter.

‘I paid him to lose. So I’d look good in front of you,’ Jin says.

You stare at him for a minute before you realise he’s joking.

‘What do you know, anyway,’ Jin grumbles. ‘You were tipsy over half a glass of sake.’

You laugh. ‘It was strong!’

‘Thank God we’re already at yours, I don’t have to worry about you being sick in the taxi,’ Jin says.

You burst out laughing. Jin smiles, patting your hand, and you settle in to watch the movie.

You wake up the next morning in a pile of blankets and cushions. Your eyes land on the line of empty salt-rimmed glasses and then you realise there’s a more pressing issue.

Jin’s head is in your lap. He stirs, blinking up at you, and then he smiles. ‘I can’t think of a better way to wake up,’ he tells you, and there’s another dangerous tug at your heart.

‘That’s the tequila talking,’ you say, and it’s probably that you’re a little tired and a lot hungover, but you sound sadder than you’d intended.

Jin’s gaze sharpens on you, and you avoid his eyes.

‘I’ve got to get to work,’ you tell him. You smile, but your heart’s not in it.

‘Feel free to stay as long as you like,’ you say, getting up.

Jin’s back in his wedding suit by the time you’re ready to leave.

‘You ok?’ he asks. He’s still looking at you carefully.

‘Nothing caffeine won’t fix,’ you say. You give him your brightest smile, and are relieved when he seems to buy it.

He walks you to the dry cleaners, waiting as you open up.

‘I had a great time,’ you tell him. You have no idea where you go from here now that the wedding’s over and he no longer needs you as a buffer between him and his ex-fiancee.

Jin smiles. ‘Me too,’ he says. ‘You’re great company.’ It comes out a little flat.

You guess that’s that.

‘See ya, Jin,’ you say. You turn around and step into the shop.

By the time you count to a hundred and look up from the collection book, he’s walking off down your street. You watch him get smaller and smaller until he turns a corner, and then you can’t see him at all.

***

You look up as the door opens.

‘Hi, can I help -‘ The words die on your lips when you recognise Jin.

He’s still in his wedding suit, only now he’s holding two coffees and a brown paper bag.

‘I got you breakfast,’ he says. He waves the paper bag. ‘A cinammon roll.’

You accept the coffee and the roll. There’s a spark of something in your chest that you’re trying not to get too hyped up about.

‘Thanks, Jin.’

He looks at you. ‘I’d still like to see you, you know. If you wanted to.’

Your smile could light up the sky.

‘Yeah?’ you ask.

Jin nods. ‘Yeah. Want to grab dinner on Tuesday?’

‘I have a better idea,’ you say.

***

Your cousin’s doing great at his little league practice game, but that’s not the entire reason why you’re enjoying watching him.

Jin, it turns out, is passionate about baseball.

He cheers, he obnoxiously protests calls he doesn’t agree with and he’s spent most of the game on his feet.

Gorgeous, sexy, well-dressed Jin is apparently a little league dad in disguise.

You choke back laughter as Jin jumps up and down.

‘You didn’t say you felt so strongly about baseball,’ you say, torn between hilarity and affection.

‘If you weren’t so busy gushing over Min Yoongi and basketball, I’d have told you,’ Jin says.

‘Gushing,’ you say, thoughtfully.

Jin shoots you a look. ‘Gushing,’ he says, firmly.

You sit back and admire his ass as he waves it in your face for the rest of the game.

You stop by to congratulate your cousin, Felix after the game. Che seems pleased to see you and Jin. He invites you both over for dinner but you decline.

Jin and you have plans. You take him to a tiny Italian restaurant on your block, where he raves about the clam linguine like it’s the second coming. After dinner you walk through the park and get ice cream.

By the time you get back to your apartment, it feels like the best first date you’ve ever had.

Jin lingers on your doorstep, seemingly reluctant to go.

You look up at him, half shaded in the fading daylight, and reach out, pulling him a little closer to you.

He tilts his head down, and your lips meet.

His kiss is sweet, chaste almost, but there’s nothing innocent about the way he looks at you when he pulls away.

‘You’ve got no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,’ he says, voice lower than you’ve ever heard it.

You look up at him, wide eyed, and almost as though he can’t help himself, he leans forward to kiss you again.

Your second kiss is better than the first, and your breathing is slightly erratic when you break apart.

‘Jin,’ you say, pressing a hand to his hard chest.

He puts his hand over yours, briefly. He presses a kiss on your forehead.

‘Call you later?’ he asks.

‘Yeah,’ you say.

***

You get a text from Jin once you’re in bed.

Jin: So my friend Taehyung’s just got engaged, and he’s throwing an engagement party next weekend in a fancy hotel in a vineyard. I’d love for you to be my date if you’re free.

Y/N: I’d like that.

Jin: It’s a date.

***

Jin picks you up early on Saturday morning, in his own car.

He puts your overnight bag in the back and waits as you buckle yourself in.

‘So I booked a hotel room for us to share. I hope that’s ok,’ he says.

You look at him. ‘I don’t know, do you snore?’ you ask.

Jin shakes his head. ‘I just don’t want you to feel like there’s any expectation on you, just because we’re sharing a room.’

‘We have slept together,’ you point out.

Jin gives you a mischievous smile. ‘That’s true. Maybe we can do it with less clothes this time.’

You nod. ‘Wouldn’t want to overheat,’ you say, solemnly.

***

This time, Yoongi and Jimin greet you like old friends, and you realise you have missed them.

Jin has your things brought up to your room whilst Yoongi and you organise a wine-tasting session for all four of you.

You’re on your way up when you see Hana and Minho. They’re walking together, but their interaction seems a little off. They’re not touching at all, and barely looking at each other.

After the wine-tasting, you and Jin are pleasantly tipsy.

Taehyung and his fiance, Jia, are as lovely as all of Jin’s other friends. They’ve organised dinner outdoors.

Jin seems a little distracted during dinner, and you’re about to ask if he’s ok when Hana taps his shoulder.

‘Can I speak to you after dinner?’ she asks.

Jin looks at you, and you hope your smile hides your uncertainty.

‘Of course,’ Jin says.

Yoongi asks if you want to take a walk after dinner, but you beg off, saying you’re tired.

You plan to stay up until Jin gets back to your hotel room, but eventually you fall asleep.

You’re woken by Jin’s lips on your neck.

He feels good, so good.

You turn towards him. His hands are warm, pulling you to him. You can barely see him in the darkness of your hotel room, but you’d know his silhouette anywhere.

His hard chest presses against yours, and the weight of him on you has your legs falling apart for him.

‘God, you’re so sweet,’ he tells you. ‘You taste so good.’

He kisses down your neck, tongue dragging across your skin.

‘Hana,’ he murmurs.

You freeze. You’re grateful for the darkness, because you wouldn’t want anyone to see the expression on your face.

How devastated you are.

You’d known Jin wasn’t over Hana, and you’d let your foolish heart trick you into believing otherwise.

Jin clicks on the bedside lamp, and your humiliation is complete.

You swipe away the traitorous tears that have sprung into your eyes.

The fact that he looks as dismayed as you feel brings you little comfort.

‘Y/N,’ he says.

You sit up. ‘I need some air,’ you say. You can barely get the words out.

‘No, it’s late,’ Jin says. ‘I’ll go.’

He grabs his coat and is out the door.

You leave anyway.

***

Jin’s got a headache. He massages his fingers over his temples, glancing at the clock. He doesn’t have any other client appointments today. He decides to head home.

He takes the subway home, and as always, he feels a pang as he passes what he always thinks of as your stop.

When he reaches his apartment he puts the TV on. The movie you watched together is playing. He turns the TV off and thinks of you.

It’s been a month since he saw you last, and he’s spent a disproportionate amount of time thinking about you considering you only met up a few times.

He remembers the circumstances in which you parted ways, and part of him still feels sick about it.

He’d left the hotel room to give you some space after his unfortunate slip, and when he got back you were gone.

He has no idea how you got home, but he knows you did because he went to your apartment.

You’d come out the door the next morning to open up the shop. If you’d turned your head, you would have seen him gaping at you like a deranged stalker.

But you hadn’t. You’d walked down your front steps, heading down the street in the early morning. He’d wanted to follow you, to get you a coffee, to apologise, but he hadn’t done any of those things.

He shouldn’t have brought you into this. It wasn’t fair on you to be a crutch to help him heal after his breakup with Hana.

He hadn’t been able to stop himself, though. You’d just been so generous with your time and your love. The time he’d gone to your cousin’s little league game, he’d seen how everyone in your community greeted you, how you’d had a kind word or a joke to exchange with everyone you met.

You were so warm, and you made him feel good about everything.

And fuck if you weren’t so pretty you made his trousers feel a little tighter every time you looked up at him.

Jin sighs. He gets in the shower, makes himself dinner and thinks about you until he falls asleep.

***

‘Your two o’clock’s here, Mr Kim,’ Jin’s assistant, Yeri announces.

‘I wasn’t aware I had a two o’clock,’ Jin says, frowning.

‘She says she knows you personally. Ms L/N?’ Yeri asks, snapping her gum.

Jin raises his eyebrows. He has no idea who to expect, but he’s definitely not expecting you to walk into his office.

Jin stares at you for a moment before remembering his manners. ‘Y/N,’ he says, coming out from behind his desk. He stops short a couple feet away, thinking you might not want the hug he was about to give you.

You look up at him. ‘I need your help,’ you say.

‘You have it,’ Jin says. His first thought is that you’re pregnant and he’s the father. Then he remembers what happened the one time you came anywhere close to having sex, and he cringes internally. He’d be unbelievably lucky to ever get a shot like that again.

He realise you’ve been looking at him through his entire embarrassing internal monologue, and he flushes.

‘Please, sit, tell me how I can help,’ he urges you, gesturing to the chair set up in front of his desk. He sits in the chair next to it.

‘You said you were a lawyer,’ you say. ‘I thought you might be able to help, or that you might know someone who could. They’re trying to tear down the community centre to develop more housing. I want to stop them.’

Jin was not expecting this. But damn, this is right up his street.

‘I do real estate law,’ he tells you. ‘I can help.’

You look so relieved he reaches out to put his hand on yours.

Jin pulls up his tablet and makes notes as you talk. Once he thinks he’s got all the information he needs to proceed, you hesitate.

Jin nods encouragingly at you. ‘Anything else you think might be useful to know?’ he asks.

You shake your head. ‘Your fee.’ You look worried. ‘The community’s done a collection – I’ve got enough money for your retainer fee but you’ll need to keep me up to date –‘

Jin interjects smoothly. ‘A proportion of my work is pro bono. A case like this fits the bill perfectly.’

You raise an eyebrow at him, skeptically.

Jin looks back at you, impassive. He knows his poker face is good.

Finally, you nod. ‘Thank you.’

‘I’ll get some preliminary work done, and I’ll organise a time for us to meet next week,’ Jin tells you.

You get up, and Jin says, ‘Wait.’

‘I’m sorry,’ he says. ‘About what happened at the hotel.’

You look at him, eyes searching his. ‘It’s ok, Jin,’ you say, finally. ‘You were going through a rough time.’

‘It’s not ok. I don’t even know why I said it,’ Jin says.

‘Freudian slip,’ you murmur. You flick your eyes up at him, and there’s a spark in them that he didn’t think he’d see directed at him again.

Jin laughs, despite himself. ‘What I mean is, it was disrespectful, and it didn’t reflect how much value I place on the help you gave me.’

‘Because you did help me, so much,’ Jin says, wanting you to know how much he means it.

You smile up at him. ‘I’m glad. I’ll see you next week, Jin.’

‘Wait,’ Jin says, as you step towards the door. You stop, and now he can definitely see a spark of amusement in your eyes. ‘I’m meeting Yoongi and Jimin for dinner. Would you like to join us? They’d love to see you.’

You tilt your head at him.

‘Seafood,’ Jin says, coaxingly.

You laugh, and his heart leaps in his chest.

‘Is that all you got, Mr Kim?’ you ask, a teasing note in your voice.

‘Lobster,’ says Jin. He walks beside you as you step out of his office.

‘Swordfish,’ he says, as you walk down the corridor to the lifts.

‘Tuna!’ he calls, as you get in the empty lift.

‘I’ll pick you up at 7,’ he says, quickly. He has just enough time to see the smile on your face before the lift doors close between you.

***

Yoongi is doing an uncanny impression of drunk Jimin, and he has you in hysterics.

Jin passes you a drink when he’s sure you’ve calmed down enough to drink it safely.

Jimin pouts at all of you. ‘I was NOT drunk.’

Yoongi bursts into song again, and Jin joins in. He’s got a surprisingly good tenor, and his rhythm isn’t bad either.

‘Was I drunk, Y/N?’ Jimin asks.

‘I’m sorry Jimin, you were trashed,’ you confirm.

Yoongi looks at you, straight-faced. ‘You also got drunk on a thimbleful of sake, if I recall correctly.’

You’re outraged by his lack of loyalty.

Jimin laughs, delighted. ‘You’re never going to be able to wash your clothes now,’ he tells Yoongi, gleefully.

You stare at them, confused.

‘Because you work at a launderette,’ Jimin points out.

‘It’s a dry cleaners. She works at a dry cleaners,’ Jin says to Jimin, clapping a hand to his forehead dramatically.

Now Jimin’s confused. ‘It’s synonymous!’ he protests.

‘No, a dry cleaners isn’t the same as a launderette,’ you say. ‘Why does Yoongi need to go to a launderette anyway?’

‘My washing machine’s broken,’ Yoongi says. He seems genuinely upset about it.

‘I mean, you can use my machine if you live close,’ you offer.

Jin puts an arm out and pulls you to him. ‘God, why are you being nice to him. He was just teasing you!’

Your lips are so close to his throat you can smell his cologne, fresh and piney.

‘I like him,’ you say. ‘I have a thing for mean, grumpy men.’

Yoongi chuckles. ‘It’s the irresistible Min charm,’ he says, deadpan.

‘It’s the irresistible Yoongi charm,’ Jimin echoes. ‘Capable of dropping all panties within a twenty-mile radius.’

‘Sounds dangerous,’ you say, finishing the last of your drink.

Jin walks you home after dinner, as always.

‘Thank you for coming out with us,’ he says to you. ‘I’ve missed your company.’

‘I had a great time,’ you say, and you mean it.

He looks at you a moment longer, then nods, turning away.

You watch him go for a bit.

‘Go inside. It’s dark,’ he calls out. He looks back at you.

‘Yes dad,’ you call back.

He laughs, waving a hand at you. He gives you another smile over his shoulder before he goes.

***

When you get upstairs, Dia and Miguel are making out on the kitchen counter.

‘I’m sure this contravenes all food hygiene regulations,’ you say dryly.

Dia turns to you, waving a hand. It takes you less than two seconds to notice the new sparkly diamond on her engagement finger.

You clap a hand to your mouth and scream.

Dia grabs you in a hug and you squeeze her. ‘Congratulations, my love!’ you say, kissing her on her forehead.

You turn to Miguel. ‘Congratulations, Miguel. Remember even after you’re married I can still kick your ass.’

Miguel laughs. ‘I’ll look after her with my life, I promise you,’ he tells you, rather sweetly.

Dia pours out champagne for all three of you from the half-empty bottle.

‘To my two favourite people,’ you say, lifting your glass in a toast.

‘To my two favourites,’ Dia echoes. She smiles at you, affectionately.

After you finish your champagne, Dia leaves with Miguel to go to his place, smirking suggestively at you before she leaves. You have no doubt Miguel is going to be a happy man in the morning.

You flop on your bed, already planning how you’re going to get everyone together for the bridal shower.

***

Jin’s talking about zoning laws and procedural errors, and you’re just watching the way his lips move. He’s wearing a navy suit today, shirtsleeves held together with silver cufflinks. He’s got a waistcoat on.

You’d never realised you had a thing for men in three-piece suits.

You make brief eye contact to pretend like you’re listening, and go back to admiring him.

The thing you’ve always liked most about Jin is the way he carries himself. He’s confident, just shy of arrogant, and he pulls it off with aplomb. He behaves like privilege is his birthright, and as someone who’s always lived alongside privilege but not always with it, you’re fascinated.

Jin makes eye contact with you again, and it takes you a second to realise he’s stopped talking.

You nod. ‘I agree.’

‘You’re not listening. I can tell when someone’s not listening and they’re just having sexual fantasies about me,’ Jin says.

He raises an eyebrow at you. ‘It happens a lot.’

You lean forward slightly. ‘Actually, I can also tell when people are fantasizing about me,’ you tell him.

Jin’s poker face is good, but his lips press together just a fraction as you lean even closer.

‘I can also tell when someone’s checking out my ass,’ you tell him.

Jin doesn’t break eye contact as he says, ‘You do have a great ass.’

He licks his lower lip.

‘Trust me, Jinnie, if you ever get to touch this ass, you’ll be saying my name and no one else’s,’ you tell him.

Jin smirks. ‘Actually, given my track record, I’d prefer if we didn’t say any names in bed. You can call me daddy.’

You snort. ‘No chance.’

Jin shrugs. ‘I’ve told you what I like. Maybe one day you’ll indulge me.’

‘Not saying names doesn’t negate the thoughts behind them,’ you point out.

Jin pauses then, and his voice is serious when he speaks. ‘I never meant to hurt you, Y/N.’

You break eye contact because he’s threatening to make you feel things again, and you’re not sure your heart can take a second strike.

‘Anyway, the other thing I wanted to ask, was if you knew any good places where I can throw an engagement party for Dia and Miguel,’ you say, straightening your skirt.

‘Yes, actually,’ Jin says. ‘I was thinking of you the other day. There’s a new place that’s just opened up down the street from me. It has great cocktails, and a rooftop bar.’

‘Where do you live?’ you ask, curious. You’ve never been to Jin’s apartment.

‘Tell you what, I’ll take you out for drinks after this. You can check out the bar, and my apartment,’ Jin suggests.

‘I’m not calling you daddy,’ you say.

‘Are you pouting at me?’ he asks.

You’ve never picked up dom vibes from Jin before, but he’s suddenly got an edge to him that you’re intrigued by.

‘I’m not pouting,’ you say. You look up at him.

His hand comes up, fingers curling under your chin. His thumb traces along your lower lip.

‘Your pretty mouth,’ he muses.

You shiver.

‘One of the regrets of my life is what happened in that hotel room,’ Jin tells you. His eyes are intent on yours. ‘And I’ll spend all of my time making it up to you, if you’ll let me.’

You don’t know what to say to that, but Jin doesn’t wait for an answer.

He leans forward to kiss you, once, and you sigh as he pulls away.

‘I’ll see you later, for drinks,’ he tells you.

You make it back to the dry cleaners, but you have no recollection of how you did it. All you can think about is Jin’s lips on yours.

***

Jin’s right. The rooftop bar is perfect for an engagement party, and the cocktails are damn good.

He smiles at you over his ridiculously pink drink.

‘What do you think?’ he asks.

‘It’s perfect,’ you reply. ‘Thanks for the recommendation.’

Jin grins. ‘It reminded me of you when I came here. The music’s great, the vibe is relaxed, and the view is stunning.’

‘You did good, Jin,’ you concede.

Three cocktails in and you’re struggling to take your eyes off Jin. He’s not faring much better, leaning close, staring at you.

‘Want to see my apartment?’ he asks.

‘What’s my name?’ you ask, only half-joking.

‘You’re Y/N. You’ve got the prettiest eyes I’ve ever seen and your ass is second to none,’ Jin says.

You reach out and tug at his loosened tie.

He tilts his head down, lips hovering over yours.

‘Let’s go,’ you tell him.

Jin’s apartment is gorgeous, modern and spacious. You want to look at the photos on the wall, but that’s going to have to wait, because Jin’s taking his suit jacket off, and damn, his shoulders are distracting.

He crowds you against the wall, so close you can feel the heat radiating off him.

He tilts his head down, and kisses you. The touch of his lips sends a throb through your veins. He tastes sweet, but there’s nothing sweet about the way his hands are roaming over your body.

‘I’ve wanted to touch you like this for so long,’ he tells you. One hand slides around the back of your neck, tangling in your hair as he takes his fill of you.

You run your hands over his shoulders, and they’re gorgeously firm. He grips your ass, pulling you tight against him.

You’re unbuttoning his shirt to run your hands over his skin, and he’s unzipping your skirt. You wriggle a little, and it falls past your hips into a silken puddle on Jin’s floor.

Jin pulls back to stare at your panties.

‘Sweet,’ he murmurs. He takes your hand. ‘My bedroom’s here.’

You walk across his living room, and hesitate at the doorway.

Jin looks down at you. ‘We don’t have to go in there,’ he tells you. ‘You don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for. But I promise you that when you do, it’ll be just you and me in there. There’s no one else, Y/N.’

Your eyes meet his, and you take a step into the room.

Jin walks you backwards onto his bed. When the backs of your thighs hit the mattress, he keeps going, until you’re lying across his bed.

Jin lays down next to you, his shirt half unbuttoned. You tug at his shirt.

‘Off,’ you say.

Jin sits up and starts unbuttoning. When he looks back at you, his eyes widen a little.

You’ve slipped your silky blouse off, and all that’s left is rose coloured lingerie that makes your skin pop.

‘You’re beautiful,’ he breathes.

‘Right back at you,’ you say. Jin’s face has always been beautiful, but there’s a manliness to the shape of his body that has you feeling a little weak.

His broad shoulders taper into a taut waist, and there’s obvious strength in his arms as he supports himself above you.

‘Can I touch you?’ he asks.

‘God, yes,’ you reply. Jin doesn’t need further encouragement, laying kisses on your breasts as his hand slips over your panties.

You tug your panties off your hips because you think he’s the kind of man who’d drive you half-insane with teasing, and you don’t want to wait.

‘Eager,’ Jin says, but he doesn’t sound mad about it.

His full lips close over a nipple as he strokes you, fingers sliding in between your folds.

You tighten around him, and he sucks in a breath. ‘You’re killing me,’ he tells you.

You’re so wet, so ready you feel like you’ll implode if he doesn’t get inside you.

‘Jin,’ you say, voice strained.

‘Baby,’ he says. You aren’t sure if he’s not using your name on purpose.

He winks at you, mischievously.

You’re about to tell him off when he climbs on top of you, and what feels like a very hard cock pushes at your entrance.

‘Ready?’ he asks, and now he’s the one who sounds strained.

You gasp as he pushes his way in. ‘Ngh,’ you moan.

Jin wants to make you laugh again but god, you feel so good. ‘So good,’ he tells you.

He thrusts into you, one hand coming up to curl around your neck, pressing a little.

‘You look so good on my cock,’ he tells you.

You’re beyond words, legs locked around his hips. You reach down to stroke your clit, and Jin groans. He lowers his head to suck at your tits, and then you’re cumming, orgasm flaring through you, making your toes curl and your back arch.

Jin calls your name as he cums, says it again and again like he can’t stop. Finally he collapses next to you, pressing his lips to your heated face. He whispers things to you, and you don’t quite hear all of it, but you think it’s all good.

***

You’re at work when Dia calls you. She sounds breathless.

‘You need to call Jin and get your ass over here,’ she says. ‘Bulldozers have just arrived outside the community centre.’

You call Jin as you lock up the shop. He answers within a few rings.

‘Y/N,’ he says. ‘Are you ok?’

‘There’s bulldozers outside the community centre, Jin,’ you tell him.

Jin swears. ‘I’ll be right there,’ he tells you.

You stop by each store on the street on the way to the community centre, telling everyone what’s happening. By the time you get there, you’re walking within a large crowd, and there's more people already there with Dia.

You join hands with Dia and form a wall of people in front of the community centre. You can see the men in the bulldozer cabs on their phones, calling whoever’s hired them to do the job.

The foreman steps forward. ‘We don’t want to cause any trouble here, but we’ve been hired to tear this place down.’

You’re about to speak when a taxi screeches to a halt on the street in front of you.

Jin steps out, and you hear Dia suck in a breath beside you.

You don’t blame her. He looks like a literal, heaven-sent angel.

Everyone’s looking at him, and Jin takes it in his stride. He walks straight up to the foreman.

‘I’ve called your boss about the highly illegal stunt he’s tried to make you pull. The zoning overlay’s been permanently redacted. I suggest you leave, and take a contract from another developer. One that isn’t trying to hang you out to dry.’

The foreman signals to his team, and murmuring runs through the crowd as the bulldozers pull away.

The clapping starts, tentatively at first, then it’s a full blown round of applause with cheering. It's making you feel all warm inside. People are shaking Jin’s hand, thanking you and Dia, you think that maybe you’ve helped to achieve something worthwhile here today.

‘Free pass?’ Dia asks, twinkling at you as she tilts her head towards Jin, currently being embraced enthusiastically by Guiseppe, the owner of the Italian place you took him to on your date.

You laugh. ‘You know I love you, Dia, but I’m about to rail that man ten ways to Sunday tonight, and I don’t want to share.’

‘Fair,’ Dia says. ‘You can tell him I think it’s really fucking sexy what he just did.’

Back at your apartment, you show Jin just how fucking sexy you think he is.

Afterward, Jin lays flat on his back, sheet carelessly draped low over his hips.

‘Fuck,’ he utters. ‘You got anything else you want me to get done for you?’

‘I’ll let you know,’ you say, still a little breathless from your orgasm.

Jin props himself up and leans in close to kiss you deeply. ‘You do that,’ he says, smiling at you.

***

You love weddings, you always have. Dia and Miguel decided to have their wedding at the community centre, and your whole community pitched in with decorations and food.

You smile fondly at Dia, and she blows you a kiss as she slow dances with Miguel.

Beside you, Jin holds your hand in his. He brings your intertwined hands up and presses a kiss to your knuckles.

‘You ok, baby?’ he asks.

You look over at him and nod a yes.

You think you’re going to be all right.

©hamsterclaw 2022

---

the art of war | jhs

PAIRING royal Hoseok x reader

GENRE royal au. arranged marriage au. enemies to lovers. friends to enemies to lovers.

RATING 18+. EXPLICIT.

WC 5.1K

SUMMARY The bells are tolling and you've just been married to a man you despise on Christmas Day. On your wedding night, locked alone in a room with him, tensions are rising. And so is the past.

WARNINGS enemies to lovers and banter during and before sex. use of she/her pronouns to refer to reader. multiple orgasms. fingering. praise kink. handjob. unprotected sex. creampie.

AN HAPPY BIRTHDAY @xjoonchildx!!!!!!! while this was supposed to be a drabble, the muse (dearest Hobi) has been singing especially so recently and I couldn't help myself... ANYWAYS. I am wishing you the warmest, most joy-filled birthday and year ahead of you, you deserve the entire world. Sending so much love.

And a special thank you to @dntaewithluv who read this and somehow convinced me adding 1k extra of foreplay would be a good idea.

THE ART OF WAR

The wedding bells have long since stopped their tolling, but you swear that your ears are still ringing. From the choir of twenty, from the glockenspiel that rung out above your heads as you ran from the church, from the far-too-raucous reception.

Far-too-raucous because you couldn’t comprehend how anyone could be celebrating you marrying a man you couldn’t stand in a sham of an arranged marriage. Well, your mother wouldn’t call it a sham. She would call it one of her best business moves. You, on the other hand, had a very different sentiment about it all.

You watch as Hoseok, your now husband—! the word sounds so foreign on your tongue—shuts the door behind him and throws you a small smile. It’s not the first one you’ve received from him tonight, though the others read more like the others are looking, grin and bear it, while this one seems more an accident. More, I’m so tired of this bullshit. I know you are too. But a moment after the soft expression fills his face, he’s quickly rearranging his features to something stoic, cold.

Still. Though the kind gesture shocks you and runs like ice through your veins, you don’t return the smile.

Instead, you turn towards the vanity that sits in the corner of the room.

Before you in the mirror, you hardly recognize the scene: you, in a white poof of a wedding dress, every inch the daughter of a duchess. And Hoseok, behind you, Hoseok, in his wedding regalia, the sword still tucked into his belt, Hoseok, loosening his collar. You watch as his long fingers reach and bend, his touch gentle but commanding.

But there is a small part of you that does recognize this, that remembers this, from some long forgotten daydream. A daydream of you and Hoseok, together.

You and Hoseok hadn’t always been bitter. There was a time when you were children, teens even, when you would have called him your friend. Your best friend.

There was a time when you two would crawl under the bed when your parents came calling that it was time to go, desperate to spend “Five more minutes!” together. There was a time when he used to climb the oak tree in your backyard after scaling the stone wall, and slip in through your window. A time when you would lay, side by side, staring up at the yellow paper stars that you never bothered to take down from the ceiling as you grew older. You’d tell him it was too high to reach. But when the taller boy offered to take them down for you, you’d shake your head and say you’d do it yourself, secretly happy to have avoided the funeral of your favorite decorations.

Those stars still hung above your bed in your parents manor, though these days their gaze felt more like a bad memory than anything twinkling and good. Maybe it was time to take them down after all.

As you and Hoseok had grown out of childhood, things changed. There was never a specific point that you could locate as the beginning of the end. And there were good years too, years teetering on the brink of tension and unspoken words. Years where you had grown so close that the others thought of you as destined. You would ride into the forest together in the middle of the night, stealing horses from the stable, only to go skinny dipping in the moonlight. You would write letters to one another, letters you still kept tucked beneath your bed, too afraid of what you would lose if you threw them out.

But as you neared your eighteenth birthday, Hoseok had grown more withdrawn. He would disappear for long hours into his room. And soon withdrawn became coldness as you found him shutting doors quickly behind him with a hard look in his eyes, like he had something to hide.

And the truth was, you did have something to hide. You’d taken up an interest in the art of war, particularly hand-to-hand combat. As a young woman in this day and age, it was forbidden for someone like you, especially someone of noble birth, to participate in such a craft.

When you had finally mustered up the courage to tell him that you were no longer meeting up for midnight rides because you were training instead, he had said something that had your blood running cold.

“War will never be for women.”

“War ought to be for no one,” you had spat back quickly. “So who’s to say it can’t be for me!”

The conversation had devolved into harsh words and harsher sentiments. That was the last time you both had spoken for years.

Until one morning your mother had waltzed into your room with what she had called “thrilling news.”

Thrilling news that had landed you in a white dress with Hoseok at the end of the aisle, his gaze locked on you as the bells tolled and you walked towards your fate.

At first it’s just a glance. Hoseok looking over his shoulder at you as you tinker with the bow on an unopened wedding gift, left on your vanity. It’s just one glance.

But one glance turns into a second. His gaze skating over you as you begin to undo the intricate updo that you had insisted on earlier but now regret.

“You missed one.”

“I didn’t.”

But before you can really argue with him, before you can really absorb what he’s said as an insult about your personal ability to undo your own hair, he’s gliding across the room and plucking a pin out of the back of your head.

You hold your breath in shock. His fingers linger.

Your eyes catch in the mirror and hold for a second that stretches into eons. And then you come back to yourself. You don’t thank him. You simply snatch it out of his hands with a little huff and go back to what you’re doing.

But to your dismay, he doesn’t move.

“Is that the best excuse you could come up with to get me to touch you?”

You stand up so fast your chair falls down behind you as you whirl around to face him face to face.

But you didn’t expect him to be this close, you didn’t expect him to be chest-to-chest with you. Didn’t expect his lips to be inches away from yours—

“How dare you—”

“Is it that hard to pay attention when all you’re thinking about is kissing me?”

You’re furious, flames roving through your chest like a slow burning wildfire, and he’s so close and his breath is mingling with yours, the smug bastard, his eyes ablaze with the same fire you feel—

And before you know what’s happening, your lips are crashing together. Later on, when you can’t tell up from down, you won’t be sure whether it was you or him that began it all. But in that moment, you’re pretty sure it was you.

He doesn’t hesitate before wrapping his hands swiftly around your waist, tugging you with a little huff of air to his front where you can feel something hard and very large pressing into you.

It happens all at once.

Like two stars colliding, you are hurtling towards one another at the speed of light, missing one another in your pointedness but scathing one another in your proximity.

But you keep circling back. Slower, more curious, each time.

His lips slow against yours, his breath intertwining with your breath, his heartbeat beating at the same pace as yours. He whispers your name against your lips, and for a moment, you taste sweetness. That is, until he bites down on your lower lip.

You gasp, but the inhale is not all pain.

A spark rushes through you, smothering your skin in goosebumps.

“Fuck, Hoseok,” you curse, and he grins against your lips.

You tighten your grip on him and dig your fingernails into the back of his neck, trailing them below the nape of his collar, leaving red streaks in their tracks.

But instead of gasping, just as you had, he sucks in a shaky breath and whispers against your lips, “How did you know I like it a little painful?”

A cold chuckle leaves your lips.

“A good guess.”

He kisses you again, quick, furious, all teeth and tongue and it’s then that you feel him, him grinding against you.

That’s when the reality of the situation hits you.

This is not two mere strangers — or, you have to remind yourself, two mere friends. Both of those ships had sailed a long while ago. You are something else now, something entirely foreign. And something tangled up in one another, flames stoking higher with each breath, each tangled limb and—

Somehow you’re both flustered and furious in the same moment. You pull back from him, and he looks surprised, though he quickly masks the look that darts across his face.

“What—“

“I ought to get ready for bed.”

He watches as you turn from him and make your way to the mirror in the corner, tugging at the many bows and clasps that keep you tied up in this ridiculous excuse of a dress.

“For bed.” He grins.

You glare at him in the floor length mirror, but the implication of his words warms you from within.

You have duties to perform tonight, there’s no doubt about it. And you’re not particularly adverse to the idea either, not when he looks as radiant as he does tonight, not when he kisses the way he kisses. But it’s the principal of it all, all the years of resentment hanging between you like spidersilk.

Your fingers fumble as you try to reach around back and unbutton the intricate dress and you can feel him watching you, can hear the way he chuckles smugly as you struggle.

After several minutes of trying without any luck, finally, you give up with a huff.

There’s no way you’re getting out of this on your own. You grit your teeth with the way you’re about to debase yourself, shame trickling through you like molten iron.

“Can you—” you close your eyes and take a deep breath. “Can you please help me?”

They were supposed to send someone to help you out of this godforsaken dress, but— your face reddens as you realize that there was someone knocking on your door while you were tangled in your husband’s arms. And that you had been far too distracted to realize what the sound was. It pains you to ask for his help.

“Pleading looks so good on you.”

“I’m not pleading,” you scoff. “You try getting yourself out of a cage of a dress.”

He chuckles darkly but approaches you from behind, his gaze challenging yours in the mirror.

“Alright. If you’re going to beg.”

“I’m not begging!”

“If you insist.”

His fingers are cold when they skate across your neck and your gaze shoots up to meet his in the mirror. He stands tall behind you, his hair dark and falling into his face, his eyes even darker, even as they catch the reflection of the hearth in them.

“It does look good on you,” he says, and you’re not sure if he means the dress or the begging. Maybe both. But as you fight the urge to roll your eyes, you watch the way his gaze narrows on the skin of the nape of your neck, as it trails down your back. And as he begins to unbutton your dress, one by one, he takes his sweet time, like he’s unwrapping some kind of precious gift. Your brow furrows in confusion.

He’s not supposed to enjoy this.

You’re not supposed to enjoy this.

And yet you do, the way his fingers grace across your skin, the way your skin warms beneath his touch. You enjoy it. You find your eyes fluttering closed, and lose yourself so entirely that soon he’s saying,

“I’m done.”

He’s still holding your dress up, in some attempt to preserve a semblance of your modesty. Though you’re not sure there’s much of it left after your earlier tryst.

A tryst you have no explanation for.

You finally nod and he lets go of the fabric. The thick winter dress falls in a heap around you, revealing the thin but warm slip they’ve dressed you in beneath. It’s the equivalent of being naked before him. He begins to look away but you’re quick to say:

“Are you so afraid to look at your own wife?”

A sly smile flickers at the corner of his mouth and his gaze darts back to rove over your body. But where they linger are your eyes.

“Are you so eager for my attention you have to ask for it?”

You finally turn towards him and stare at him for a long moment.

This is when it begins. This is when it's supposed to begin, when it's supposed to happen: your wifely duties.

Awkwardly, you reach for him.

“What are you doing?”

“I have a duty.” You say, your chest warming, your hand tracing up his torso. But as your words fall on his ears, his gaze immediately hardens. Before you can reach his chest, where you want to trace over his heart, his hand snatches your wrist.

“No.”

“No?”

“I’m not going to force you to do anything,” Hoseok says sternly, his brow pressing. He gently places your hand at your side and retreats to the other side of the room. “Absolutely not.”

The care with which he says it surprises you—and yet not at all. From beneath the hard exterior, you see the young Hoseok you once knew, once loved, poking through.

“But we should—”

“We should do nothing tonight.”

“But, but they’ll come—in the morning, to check.”

Hoseok’s eyes light with recognition.

“And you care that—? Ahh.”

You frown. “What?”

“I see.” He steps towards you, his shirt fluttering open with each step forward. You can’t help it when your gaze flickers downwards.

“You can just say it,” he says.

“Say what?”

“That you want me.”

“I don’t want you,” you scoff. “I only—”

He raises an eyebrow.

“I only want you in the way a wife wants her husband on their wedding night.”

“Is that so?” Hoseok asks. “And in what way is that?”

You immediately warm at the question. It feels like he has you pinned against the wall, even when he’s half the room away. As he steps closer to you, you find yourself holding your breath.

“Kiss me,” he orders. “If you’re too afraid to put it to words.”

And so you do, and just as before, it is furious.

Lips press, teeth nip, lobes bitten, and you know you will look a mess in the morning. He kisses down your neck, biting and sucking gently at the tender skin there and you cry, “You’ll leave a mark!”

“Then they’ll know you’re my wife.”

The thought brings heat to your abdomen, as the idea of wandering out the next morning looking absolutely ravaged plays in your mind. But was this how tonight was supposed to go? You had no qualms about giving yourself to your husband, but now, now, you were giving yourself willingly, eagerly, even. Your mother had instructed you on how these kinds of marital duties were to be performed, but this, lips locked and hands roving greedily over one another’s bodies: this is no duty.

This is passion.

Even if anger still simmers in your stomach.

He is kissing you, so deeply you think he might consume you whole, kissing you like you are the only person in the world. And right now it feels like it. The world outside quiets as you kiss him back, letting the noise of society, along with all the expectations and obligations fade away until there is nothing but Hoseok. The shape of his hands pressed against your back. The warmth of his thigh between your legs. The movement of his lips, inflamed and… needy?

Hoseok, Hoseok, Hoseok.

His hand glides up your back and tangles with your loosened hair as he presses you to his chest.

He walks you backward, his leg slipping between the heavy, warm fabric of your slip—too warm despite the winter chill—somehow managing to not trip you. The mattress of the bed hits your knees and you find yourself sitting, looking up at the man who is now your husband, towering above you. And right in your face:

“Is someone a little desperate?” You chide, running a finger along the bulge in his pants. “It doesn’t suit you.” Though that’s half a lie, because as you look up at him, your mouth waters, struck by the absolute depravity that he looks down at you with.

“I know what might suit you,” Hoseok cuts back, unerred by your half insult as his hands rove over your body. “My desperation, stuffed in your mouth, shutting you up.”

Your eyes widen at the prospect.

“Try me.”

He grins and bends down to kiss you again, interrupting your hands reaching for his pants. You are eager to unwrap him, but he is eager to take his time with you.

Things begin to devolve in the best way possible. Hoseok loses his shirt, then his pants. “I want to see you,” he murmurs as he kisses you, and soon you have lost your slip too, limbs tangling in the sheets, and soon his cock is in your hand, and you squeeze ever so gently, just to watch his eyes flutter closed.

“Let me—” he begins as his hands trail down your body.

“You don’t know—”

He scoffs. “I think I know you well enough to know exactly how to make you come undone,” Hoseok says, and something switches within you. It’s the first time he’s mentioned anything of your past, of knowing you before your wedding night, of all of the tension strung up around you.

“Don’t presume to know me,” you say. “You don’t. Not any more.”

“Is that a challenge I hear?” Hoseok asks, his brow raised.

You look up at him through your lashes, but before you can roll your eyes, he grips your chin gently, forcing you to look at him.

“Are you challenging me?”

“Maybe I am.”

It becomes some kind of competition, the both of you rushing to make the other one drown in their own pleasure before the other.

And it’s true: it’s hard to stay in control like this, with his fingers dragging through your folds, circling around your clit, his mouth pressed up against your ear, whispering sweet nothings, chiding you, urging you onward. But you cling to any semblance of control you have left, wrapping your hand around his length, running gentle, teasing touches along the soft skin of his cock.

That’s when he says it.

“You’re so good for me.”

And you come a little bit more undone beneath him. Your touch falters, your breath hitches.

“Oh, does she like being praised?”

You grit your teeth to keep from nodding.

“No—”

“I love the way you touch me,” he whispers against your ear, his fingers slowing against you, building into a gradual, unerring rhythm. “It’s like you know exactly what I need, what I want.” He nips at your earlobe. “So good.” He slips a finger within you and you gasp. “So good, just for me.”

On the final emphasis, he thrusts a second finger into you and begins pumping in and out of you. The final emphasis has you clenching around him.

His.

Even as you try to push the idea of him away, his body is wrapped around yours. His body is everywhere, atop, beneath, beside you. And you don’t want the distance, you don’t want any space between you at all.

As he draws one orgasm from you, then a second, you cling to him, hands tangling in his hair, pushing it out of his eyes, and threading around his limbs and his back, pulling him closer. And after you’ve come a second time, the two of you lay there, staring silently at the ceiling—starless, blatantly starless—as you catch your breath. The only sounds in the room are the crackling fire and the sound of your in-synch panting.

“I don’t think you could make me come again,” you challenge, and that’s enough for him.

He rolls on top of you with a cheeky grin and nips at your ear.

“As you wish,” he murmurs, and it’s not the fight you want, it’s not the fire you were asking for, but it’s good enough, because he’s sliding his hand down your torso again. As you buck your hips up to meet the touch of his hand, his cock aligns with your center, pushes in just enough.

The both of you freeze.

Eyes lock.

“We don’t have to—”

“No, please—”

The desperation in your voice surprises you, and you swallow hard as he looks down at you.

“‘Please?’” he repeats back to you, a genuine question in his voice. “You want this?”

You nod quickly.

“Then tell me.”

You repeat your previous sentiment with a sly smile. “I bet you can’t make me come on your cock.”

“I can,” he says, capturing your lips in a kiss. “And you know that. Tell me what it is you want.”

“Fuck me, Hoseok.”

He takes his time, teasing your opening with the head of his cock, sliding it through your come and the arousal already spilling again from you as your core aches with need.

“Please, Hoseok,” you beg.

“You’re so pretty when you beg for me,” he smiles. “So messy when you’re needy.”

He lowers his weight atop you as he glides his cock to your opening and pushes in an inch. You gasp, and before your eyes flutter shut at the wide stretch, you can see the pleasure that washes across his face. It’s divine. The mixture of concentration and pure desire that dances in his eyes, the way his gaze bores into yours before he bends down and presses his lips to the concha of your ear.

As he pushes into you all the way, you think you hear:

“Forgive me,” whispered in your ear.

“No,” you whisper back.

But he’s already moving, his face pressed in concentration, that look you know too well. So serious, so firm, you think, How am I going to live with this every day? Not because you don’t want to, but because in that moment you’re filled with so much need for him that you’re not sure what it will be like to want him when your marital duties have been filled and completed and you’re stuck in a house with a man who despises you as much as you despise him.

Though, when you think about it, this hardly feels like spite.

Not with his cock moving like this, not with his hips thrusting like that, rolling so smoothly into you.

It’s so surprising, how goddamn good it feels and all you feel is anger bubbling to the surface. “Fuck you,” you groan, your fingers tightening around whatever parts of him you can reach, nails digging into his skin.

“Darling, you already are,” he spits back through gritted teeth. “And so many would just kill to be in your place.”

When he flips you over, pulls your hips towards you, and begins rolling into you again, it’s entirely different. Something about the angle, your face pushed into the soft material of the mattress, your ass jiggling with each slap of his balls against your clit, it has you tumbling forwards towards delight so quickly you can’t breathe—

“This isn’t right,” you gasp and he stills, looking down at you in concern.

“What’s wrong?”

“How good it feels.”

You can hear the grin spread across his face as he begins again, his hips rolling slowly into you.

“Darling, this is exactly how it’s supposed to feel.”

“How—?”

He repositions you then, so he can look in your face, pulling you on top of his lap, before slippiing into you again.

“You’re supposed to feel good,” he says, as he begins pumping up into you. “And whoever told you you shouldn’t was lying.”

His tongue pokes out between his lips as you begin to move too, chasing your own pleasure now. He nods encouragingly as you drag your hips up his cock. Your breath hitches as he reaches up and slides his thumb across your lower lip before slipping it into your mouth.

“Tomorrow, this will be my cock on your tongue,” he whispers, and you swallow around his digit as he presses down on your tongue, your eyes wide as you bounce on his cock. “Fuck, you look so good,” Hoseok curses.

He removes his hand to kiss you, growling against your lips. His fingers dig into your ass as you fuck him. Once, he brings his hand up and slaps your ass and the sound that leaves your lips is ravished.

“Ah,” he coos. “I think I know exactly what it is you like.”

You ride him, bouncing up and down on his thick cock until you wrap your hands around his shoulders and press your chests together.

“That’s it. Fuck yourself on my cock,” he says.

He’s so close. There’s something even more intimate about this, as your breath mingles and comes in pants, both of you relishing in the pleasure of the other’s body.

“Shit, shit, shit,” you curse as he hits a particularly soft spot within you, and you cling to him even tighter.

Your pace slows, and rather than hurtling towards desire, the both of you are relishing in it.

Slowly, Hoseok lowers you to your back, leaning over you.

Hoseok is determined to—what, you’re not sure at this point, but determined he is, knowing by the set of his jaw and the way his eyes won’t leave yours. Perhaps he is simply determined to draw as much pleasure as possible from your body, because with a quick movement he tilts your pelvis upwards, and the new angle, oh. You can now feel the ridge of the head of his cock pushing into you, and as it does, it catches on a bundle of nerves within you that makes you cry out. The second thing this does is that the base of his cock now presses against your clit every time he slams into you.

There is pleasure everywhere, like swimming in some deep well of warmth.

“You’re close,” he murmurs, rolling his hips into you. “Come for me, will you?”

And it’s a request, not a command.

“Come for me,” he hums against your lips. “I want to feel you around me.”

His voice is like a deep melody and as it resonates through you, you find yourself hurtling towards the edge of your own pleasure, warmth radiating from your abdomen, and the most delicious tension strung between your limbs.

“Please,” he whispers, and that’s enough for you to break into pieces, your orgasm crashing like the far waves of the kingdom through your entire body.

He’s not far behind you, and through your pleasure you can feel his cock twitch within you. He hisses, and holds himself back from you, his eyes fluttering shut. And suddenly you realize, you want his pleasure. You want his pleasure, not for the sake of winning some competition, but simply for him.

But without thinking, you reach up for him, wrap your arms around his back, and press him to your chest. He comes with you, body trembling, words spilling from his mouth that have no meaning, no rhyme or reason. But you catch it again.

“Forgive me—”

And you realize that the anger within you has been entirely replaced with the lingering numbness of absolute pleasure.

You’re sure it will return in good time, yout think.

So instead, you let your nails drag softly up the back of his neck before tangling in his hair, pressing his face into your neck. He peppers the skin there with the softest of kisses, his body still intertwined with yours.

And you lay there for what feels like eons, his weight pressing down reassuringly, the chill of the window finally seeping into your consciousness.

And suddenly, he is standing, slipping from you, his warmth removed.

“You’re leaving,” you say, your voice flat, monotone. Not stay, not, please. A simple statement of fact.

Hoseok freezes. He turns on his heel to face you.

“There is a winter storm raging right outside that window. And while you might be sweaty and hot and all worked up right now,” You flush at the implication, “I promise you that the cold will creep in. I was merely about to warm the fire.”

“Ah,” you say, turning on your side, away from him.

But a touch and a gentle tug brings you rolling back towards him. He looks upset, and before you can stop yourself, you’re reaching out to press at the frown lines that decorate his brow.

“You’re angry.”

“I’m not angry that you’d think the absolute worst of me,” he says slowly. “I’m only concerned that you’d think, and think so readily, that I’d be this quick to abandon you.”

He rolls into bed, pulling you on top of him.

“I’m hardly finished with you, how could I go?”

He kisses you then, and it’s not like the other kisses. The others were fire, burning towards something larger. This, however, is different. He kisses you to kiss you, for the pleasure of it all, for the feeling of your body warming against his skin, for the knowledge that you, you want to kiss him.

And what you found, at the end of it all, is that the anger in you is a dying anger. One like a star, burnt out and blackened, striving for the life that it one was, but ultimately hurtling towards a darkened coolness. And in the place of this old, stupid, anger, is rising something new. Attraction. Respect, even.

It frightens you.

©wwilloww Do not repost, translate, or use my stories without my permission.

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