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hear-me-growl · 4 years ago

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Ambrosia | Ksj | Chapter VI (final)

ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴏɴ Aᴏ3 || Dɪᴏɴʏsᴜs ·ᴘᴜʙ· ᴍᴀsᴛᴇʀᴘᴏsᴛ || ↻ʙᴀᴄᴋ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴀsᴛᴇʀʟɪsᴛ

> ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: smut, humor, fluff, angst | s2l > ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: millionaire!Seokjin x bartender!, nyotaimori model!Reader > ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: mature [+18]; strong language and explicit sex > ᴡᴏʀᴅᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 5.9k

sᴇʀɪᴇs ɪɴᴅᴇx || ⟵ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴠ

💙 ᴀ/ɴ: can’t believe this beast is finally done (though I might post a bonus epilogue, we’ll see 😉). Thank you so, so much for reading and leaving likes. Not gonna lie, it’s been a hard one to write, but also extremely fun. As my first story in English (and also my first BTS fic), it holds a special place in my heart. Also I may or may not be a sucker for this Jin. Now that it’s over, don’t be shy to let me know your thoughts. It’s important for creators that you give feedback, even if just a few words or a keyboard smash. You can make someone (not only me) very happy.

Ambrosia brought a lot of people to my blog and I’m super thankful for you all and very excited to write many more stories you’ll enjoy too. Once again, thank you for all the love and support.

Psst! Keep an eye out for the next update on the Dionysus ·pub· series. Did someone say Hobi?

“Thanks, you fuckers! We love you!”

The growl in the frontman’s voice raised screams and whistles that rumbled through Dionysus. Sweaty, ethereal and devilishly handsome, Taehyung bowed for the crowd chanting his band’s name. Everytime their signature purple bunny posters covered the beaten bricks of the pub, a mass of people flooded the establishment. V’s Moon Rabbits caused a frenzy wherever they played, waking the masses with their sound like a rockslide. The rock, jazzy melodies paired with the singer’s looks skyrocketed their popularity in underground Seoul.

However, no matter how many concerts and jam sessions were scheduled, they always came back to Dionysus —the pub that gave them a chance when nobody did.

After the performance, they usually hung out at the bar until they found a fan desperate for a chance to share the night with their idols. Doe eyes and sultry smiles in every corner, the boys never went home alone.

Tonight you didn’t work behind the bar, though. You just sat on a barstool, keeping your best friend entertained on her shift, ready to jump to her rescue if she felt overwhelmed. Not that she needed it, she handled the crowd with a big smile on her face. Beer in hand, you chatted animatedly with the blonde singer and Namjoon, the drummer, since the others had already found someone to drag to the bathrooms for an intimate rendezvous.

“You broke your drumstick. Again. You owe me 30.000.”

“I distinctly remember you mentioning both of them, so I’m not paying a single won.”

“C’mon, man. Don’t be a pussy,” Taehyung nudged his bandmate’s side as he took a sip of his beer. “Next time don’t make it so easy for her to win.”

“Yeah, pay up, Joon,” you chimed, a taunting tone lingering on your lips.

“Sorry, love. The rules were clear.”

The tall man leaned back on the bar and gave his signature jaw-dropping smile, flanked by two cute dimples. Who would’ve thought underneath all that there was the lady-killer of the century? You bent forward towards him, sniffing before wrinkling your nose.

“Does it smell like chicken over here?”

A snort came from your other side, Taehyung trying to conceal his laughter and you snickered along. Namjoon’s tattooed hands ran over his chin as he watched the both of you in amusement too before speaking.

“Tell you what it doesn’t smell like: money in your pocket. Now, if you excuse me,” he said, eyes fixed on a juicy target. His self-satisfied smirk turned sultry as his gaze darkened, “there’s a pretty doll over there not sucking my cock and I’d like to change that.”

In a flash, the drummer finished the rest of his drink, attention solely on the woman at the other side of the bar. Still perched on the counter, he looked at you with a raised brow. “Unless you want to join her?”

“Go get your dick wet already,” you nudged with a groan, fully aware that he wasn’t entirely joking.

Like a panther, he stalked towards his newfound prey, mixing with the crowd. Taehyung and you chatted for a little while. He differed from his charismatic persona on stage. V’s goal was to attract people with mysterious looks and alluring smiles, but Taehyung was much more reserved, rude even, except around his close ones. At some point, you noticed the cute girl behind him. You recognised her immediately and smiled warmly, inviting her to talk to the singer.

“Hi, Tae,” she greeted quietly.

Hearing his name, he turned around to face his number one fan. Her face brightened up with the attention.

“Hey, baby girl. Just arrived?”

“Err— yeah, I’m sorry I missed the show.”

“You’ve been to all of them for the past two years, I think you can skip one, ” he sneered. After that an awkward silence settled between the two. When he started to turn back to you, ending the conversation, she was quick to keep his attention.

“Do you… umm… wanna dance with me?”

“Not now, I’m talking.”

“Oh, of course! I’m sorry I interrupted,” she apologized, looking at you with doe eyes.

“No worries, sweetie,” you intervened as you shot a murderous glare to the man, the second-hand embarrassment urging you to help the poor girl out. “Stay and chat with us. What do you drink?”

Her eyes jumped from you to Taehyung nervously, a flash of pain through them when he lazily checked his phone, clearly indiferent. She swallowed a sigh, shrinking in defeat.

“Thanks for the offer, but I think I’m going to… my friend should be here somewhere,” she grimaced at her own excuse, but bit her lips and cocked her head before speaking again. “See you later, Tae?”

“I don’t know my plans yet, baby girl.”

“Right,” she whispered, looking at his side like he’d shot just her. After a beat, she cleared her throat, eyes on the floor. “Bye, then.”

She walked away, hand on her face to hide from the overflowing crowd and ponytail shaking. The singer took a sip from his beer, still on the phone. He didn’t even bother to look her in the eye to reject her.

“One: that was actually painful to experience, and two: you are a major asshole. That poor girl follows you like a puppy with heart eyes and you know it. Do you have to be so rude?”

“Hey, she knows what she’s getting into,” he answered with a shrug.

That naive fool. What a terrible mistake she made falling for Taehyung. To him there was no point in lying, so he proudly waved the “I’ll never be your boyfriend ” flag before anything happened and then jumped to the next roll in the hay without sparing a glance. Never settling, never making false promises. He was upfront about his intentions, so it never bothered you before, despite how tactless he was. Tonight, however, you felt pity at the heartbroken look in her eyes. Love brought more pain than happiness, she’d learn sooner or later.

Suddenly, something bumped into the barstool and you stumbled forward. Taehyung catched you before you could hit your head on the counter. With a snarl on display, you turned and yelled at the culprit, who zigzagged towards the exit, probably to smoke or take a piss. You scoffed. He probably didn’t even hear you, given his unsteady walk. Just as the door opened, a tall, neatly dressed figure entered the bar, stepping aside just in time to dodge the tripping drunk.

It took a second for you to register the tingle travelling across your skin like wildfire brought by the newcomer. You had felt it before, that twisted warm fuzzy feeling, a disease that spread and ruined people. All too familiar and foreign at the same time, like rewatching an old movie with new eyes.

‘You felt something that night and you feel it still’.

The words echoed in your memory, taking you a couple of weeks back. That night after the event was your last conversation with him and you thought you’d finally rid yourself of unnecessary trouble. Quite the opposite. You found yourself craving for something, no matter how much instant ramen you ate or how long you stayed at work to keep yourself busy. His silence was directly proportional to your uneasiness, but you refused to connect the dots.

Until tonight.

Faster than light, your head snapped back at the singer to avoid being seen. Reason overlapped panic as you assessed the damage. That mind-reading snake was right, you felt something beyond physical for him. At least now, fully aware of the issue, you could fix it. Keeping a cool head, you devised a plan of action. It was imperative to eliminate those thoughts before they infected your brain any further, to show both him and yourself that your interest was merely a passing malaise, like a cold or an indigestion. You just needed to find the right medicine for it.

“You okay there? You look like you either had an epiphany or smoked the worst weed in Seoul.”

Taehyung’s voice was low in your ear and you realised the lack of distance between the two. Feeling him chuckle, you looked up at him. You’d forgotten he was even there, hands still low on your waist. In a feeble attempt to regain some control over yourself, you grabbed the shirt over his taut stomach and swallowed hard. Half-lidded, he tongued the corner of his mouth revealing a smug smile. No wonder people lost their shit about him. He looked bewitching and fun, but most importantly, uncomplicated. The perfect remedy for your stupid, stupid heart.

“Kiss me,” you blurted, eyes locked on the mark at the edge of his lower lip.

“What?”

A quick glance back at the door and you frowned before closing the distance to press your mouth roughly on his. For a second, he seemed confused, but then responded eagerly to the kiss. When you pulled back, panting and determined, he tongued the corner of his mouth in amusement.

“Not complaining, but where did all that ‘I don’t make out with my buddies’ philosophy go?”

“As far as buddies go, you’re the shittiest one I have. Not much of a loss there,” you joked, shifting your weight impatiently. Now of all times, Tae had to grow friendship ethics. Although you should’ve praised his character development, right now was a rather inconvenient moment to be a gentleman. What you needed was a distraction in the form of an unapologetic fuckboy. Fast.

Luck on your side, Taehyung just grinned cheekily, happy to indulge your sudden neediness, and tipped his head towards the crowd. He let you guide him through Dionysus, to a dark spot where you’d fuse with the stench of sweat and bad ideas.

“Gimme a minute, ok? Don’t move!” Shortie greeted with a warm smile, waving above intoxicated laughs and the strings of an old song’s bass.

Seokjin nodded and leaned on the counter, avoiding the alcohol spilt all over it. Dionysus was especially crowded that night, which only made scanning the multitude in hopes to find you harder.

After your last conversation, he gave you some space, a chance to miss him. On paper, it was a good strategy. What he didn’t expect was his plan backfiring. After a couple of weeks of self-restraint, his will power ran out. He missed you. Instead of working on his next project as he should’ve, his car brought him across Seoul to you —his personal bittersweet pill. He couldn't help but smile, even when the air reeked of sweat and the sticky floor threatened to peel off the red of his soles. What wouldn’t one of those sensationalists that defamed him give to publicly gut him for his new-found addiction. Those ever-changing eyes that begged him to keep trying despite your constant rejection made quitting you impossible. Only if you would see it too.

“Now, I’m all yours. Sorry to make you wait,” said the petite bartender, already pouring his usual drink. “I’m happy to see you, it’s been a while.”

“Work has been busy lately. No help tonight?”

“If you mean it in a ‘ is my hot-ass crush here? ’ kind of way, she is,” your friend said, catching his intentions easily. Not that he put any effort in masking them, constantly looking around the place for you. “I don’t know where she went, though. She was sitting over there just a moment a— what the...?”

Seokjin followed her gaze, fixed intently somewhere behind him. Your body pressed against someone’s, fingers buried in blonde hair. Unable to look away, he watched a mouth clash against yours before traveling down your neck.

“Oh, Jin, I’m sorry. This dumbhead, I don’t know what’s gotten into her. Taehyung? Really? He’s like her little brother.”

I’m pretty sure “little brothers” don’t stick their tongues down your throat . Shortie kept talking in the background, probably making excuses for you. To his surprise, the first thing he felt wasn’t anger or jealousy, but something close to satisfaction. An odd sense of pride filled his chest every time the blonde touched you where he had before, when he kissed over the skin he had marked as his already.

The man turned the two of you around, giving Seokjin a perfect view of your backside. Long fingers travelled down your spine, cupping your delicious ass with a rough squeeze. The same ass he remembered perking back for more despite the leftover sting his palm left behind. He couldn’t shake the vibrant shade of red he created that night, nor the soft whines you sang for him. Pretty eyes clouded with lust as you came on top of him, now etched in his memory forever —along with the iciness you left behind on his sheets the morning after.

With a fist full of his leather jacket, you laughed. Seokjin could tell it didn’t quite reach your eyes. In fact, it seemed like the attention on the man in front of you was only half-hearted.

Yes, he noticed the pink tint on your cheeks, the hips grinding on a thigh clad in ripped jeans and shortened breaths. But he was also aware of your eyes bouncing around the pub distractedly as your companion nipped your jaw. A smirk tugged on Seokjin’s lips. He’d seen withdrawal before, when his mother quit smoking. Gum could not replace a cigarette and a toyboy could not replace him.

Meanwhile, you kept trying to redirect your wandering thoughts to Taehyung, who locked lips once again, sucking on your lower one. Closing your eyes, you attempted to concentrate solely on his tongue on your mouth. The air was humid, too many bodies in one room. It stuck to your skin the same way it did at the club with Seokjin, but somehow thicker. Tae smelled rich and exotic, nothing like the subtle sweetness of his surely expensive cologne. You remember because it lingered on your skin the morning after, along with the marks he imprinted all over your body. You weren’t as excited for Taehyung to leave his.

Catching your train of thought, you emptied your mind and only allowed pleasure to invade it. You left out a sigh at the hot pressure running through your veins as his thigh flexed against your core just right. It was all you needed at that moment, a nice body against yours to fight the infection of Kim Seokjin. Large hands roamed your body, brushing your breasts on their way up to your hair and tangled there to deepen the kiss. Just when you had achieved the perfect balance between numbing everything around you and enjoying the feeling, the blonde whispered hotly in your ear. His low grumble shook you out of your blissed state, crumbling any prospect of eluding reality.

All of the sudden you found the spicy kisses bland. A light frown etched between your eyebrows when you studied his profile. It dawned on you that it was Taehyung who just told you to come all over his jeans. Taehyung. The same guy who sent you stupid memes while taking a shit because “he was bored”. Fuck, you even came close to orgasming in front of him. Because of him. You winced at the thought. What a genius idea, 15-minutes-ago you. Way to go.

About to detangle from his hold to apologise for the impromptu makeout session —a damn good one, true, but probably scarring for life— he beat you to it. Hands still around you, he arched an eyebrow over your shoulder.

“Hey, man. Want something?” he rasped out.

“The lady and I need to talk.”

Great . Just fucking peachy. You took a steady breath before turning around, putting a bit of space between you and your friend. The first thing you noticed was Seokjin’s piercing gaze, squinting slightly from how intently he looked at you.

“Do we now?” you questioned acidly, wearing your best unfazed visage.

Seokjin looked damn fine tonight. Hands casually in his pockets and the gleam of his silver watch just showing. In that position his shoulders squared further. The urge to bite along the curves leading up to his neck rose out of nowhere. You really needed a cold shower.

He smirked at your response, as if he knew your deepest, dirtiest secrets.

“Yes, we do,” a command more than anything else. Still, you recognised the glint of playfulness in the black coffee of his eyes. The one you foolishly claimed for yourself, even though he probably used it on other girls. “Leave the puppy behind and let’s go outside. It’s too loud in here.”

“Who the hell is this jerk again?” Tae enquired dryly, offended by the nickname. He placed a hand on your hip, squeezing slightly to regain your attention.

You jumped slightly at the contact. Seokjin’s eyes snapped up, acknowledging his presence behind you, still too close. The sharp edge of his jaw rolled in annoyance, almost imperceptibly, but he was quick to smooth it with light-hearted indifference.

“The only reason she’s making out with you, kid.”

Amidst the deafening ambiance, you heard a pin drop. There was a beat of silence, tension so high it took you both a moment to register. Then, Taehyung stepped forward, moving you aside. He was not a fighter, despite what one may think with that foul mouth and attitude of his, but he had no problem in punching a douchebag.

“The fuck did you say?”

“Tae,” you stopped, catching his arm. Seokjin remained unaffected, holding the younger’s glare with neutral expression. “Please, don’t. Just go, I’ll deal with the asshole.”

Brows still furrowed, he studied you for a moment with scepticism. “You sure?”

“Yeah, look I—” You pulled him closer, so you could talk to him more privately. No need for Seokjin to hear anything that could be used against you later. “I’m sorry. About all of this, I mean. I shouldn’t have kissed you tonight when there’s other, um, stuff on my mind. I needed something to help me unwind and you were here so... ”

“Five more minutes and you might’ve ‘unwound’ all the way.”

Your face burned immediately, aware of his lingering taste and the stickiness between your thighs. Pure joy bloomed on his lips at your reaction.

“Back to the whole friend thing?”

“Sure,” he shrugged, “but you owe me a beer for the semi.”

With that, he nodded at Seokjin in some sort of solemn bro code and the older reciprocated. Men’s short grudge-holding span was always fascinating to witness. He waved both of you goodbye, as if the awkward situation had never happened. Trust Taehyung not to really give a fuck. He was the best at it.

You eyed Seokjin up and down and snaked through the crowd towards the back exit without a word. He followed closely the trail you opened, people too distracted to care if their drinks spilled when you shoulder them. Not sure if you felt angry, relieved, mortified, confused, scared shitless or all of the above, you avoided looking back to check if Seokjin was still there. How did a fun night out with your friends end up like this? You were at home and ready to order a nutritionist’s worst nightmare. You coming to Dio, right? The boys perform tonight. Pretty pleeeease?🥺 That cursed text was to blame. Whoever invented best friends should be sued.

The difference in temperature made you shiver when you stepped out of the pub. A single bulb illuminated the alley, rain puddles and broken glass reflecting its dim light. The night was calm. Not a single siren wailed, like they usually did. Only the constant boom of the bass drum could be heard now, noise muffled underwater, as the door closed behind Seokjin. Your own pulse followed the rhythm, feeling the vibrations deep in your chest.

“Why are you here?” you finally asked. “Just to ruin my night or did you make a sport of being a jerk?”

“Doing you a favour. It didn’t look like you were having a good time,” he answered, amused. You could almost see the ‘I know when you are’ itching to follow.

“That’s not for you to decide. Go home.”

“Not without you.”

His wolfish smirk stretched as he threw a wink. A bit late to try to lift the mood, in your opinion. He seemed to forget that the world didn’t revolve around his stupid, handsome face. It happened at the nyotaimori event, and it happened tonight. Even if you would’ve ended up alone anyway, he had no right to come all the way to Dionysus to mess with your head and ruin your plans —said plans being to drink the embarrassment of almost fucking Taehyung away. Still, he shouldn’t have interfered. You shouldn’t have tried to relax your emotional cramp with Tae either, but it was his mistakes you wanted to focus on, not yours.

“I missed that frown of yours, sushi girl.”

Unaware that you’d been scowling, your arms crossed in self-defense.

“Listen, you can’t just barge in on my life every time you’re bored,” you chided. “Get a hobby, plant a tree or whatever. Didn’t you like fishing? Go do that. Just don’t bother me.”

His features softened slightly. “You remember.”

How could you forget the half an hour rant at the burger joint? Truth be told, you did disconnect half-way, but you recall his somewhat boyish excitement as he gave you a whole monograph on baits. Also the fish puns, those you recall with painful accuracy.

“Just because you are full of yourself enough to have your ears clogged doesn't mean that mine are.”

He shook his head and laughed at your comment. When he stood in front of you to brush a stray strand out of your face, you froze for a second. The tenderness of the gesture was suffocating, his gaze on yours too. No matter how hard you tried to keep distance, Seokjin always found a way to close it. You wanted to run.

His eyes fell on your lips for a moment, intense and wanting. Suddenly that sliver of fondness evaporated from them as something else caught his attention. A hand slid down to your neck and his thumb wiped there repeatedly as if he wanted to clean the spot. Once again, his jaw tensed and his stare grew jet black. Swallowing hard, you felt your cheeks reddening both at his touch and the admonishing tut he gave. He was glaring at what you assumed was a hickey left there by Taehyung. Irrefutable proof of your useless attempt to escape the itch that was Seokjin. Because he was exactly that —a maddening, unreachable itch that one cannot assuage.

“Don’t you think it’s cruel to toy with that Kurt Cobain wannabe?” The tone remained teasing, but his hard, steel stare gave away his mood. He’d never felt jealousy before, and it tasted dry and sour. “He might get the idea that you’re interested.”

You held his gaze, puffing with cockiness to disguise any sign of guilt. “I wouldn’t worry about him, he gets what casual means. Ask him for pointers on that.”

“You think I don’t?” he chuckled airly, brow raising. “I’ve had plenty of that, believe me. But this? Us ? Nothing casual about it, sweet cheeks. I told you already: I like you. I can’t stop thinking about you.”

Perfect teeth on display, he smiled at you. Selfish bastard, airing those words so carelessly. He gave the impression of a teacher explaining the slowest student how to do simple math, not a man admitting his feelings. Yet, the confession sounded brutally sweet in the quiet back alley. Perhaps the beer still buzzing was to blame or the opiate smell of his cologne coating your senses, but you wondered if it would be that bad to believe him. Then reality poured on you like tar. Even if he did feel like he said, it wasn’t worth the risk. He’d grow tired eventually and leave, like everyone else. He’d ask why couldn’t you be sweet and shy like his exes. He’d tell you that he would never introduce someone like you to his parents. He’d text saying that he would come home late after work, night after night. He’d call you a slut because ‘don’t lie to me, I saw you flirting’ with someone’s panties in his back pocket still. Every time you were naive enough to catch feelings, you’d paid for your stupidity tenfold and ended up hurt and broken. You wouldn’t go through it all again.

“There’s no us ,” you reminded both him and you.

“We should change that, then,” he offered with a shrug. “I want us.”

The fucker knew how to play the strings of your heart, a master puppeteer with the cruelest intentions. Every word was a shiver of excitement that pooled in your uneasy stomach. It felt a lot like love and it was terrifying. Love always faded into ugly crying, ice-cream and vodka. Cornered against your own crumbling walls, you transformed your mixed feelings into bitterness.

“I don’t know what kind of spoiled-prince fantasy you live in, but in the real world people don’t always get what they want. Shocking, I know. Get a whisky to swallow that crazy fact and leave me alone.”

You shoved him away and walked back towards the door, desperate for Seokjin-less air. The pressure in your lungs was suffocating.

“Don’t run away, let’s talk about this.”

“There’s nothing left to say, rich boy. I told you I don’t play couples anymore.” Seokjin snorted, surely about to make a quick retort, but you cut him. “Find someone else for your little rom-com attempt. Now, if you’ll excuse me I’m going back in to find a man who can fuck me and not catch feelings after the first kiss like a Disney princess.”

“I’m not sure if your goal is to hurt me or make me lose interest, sweet cheeks, but it’s not working,” he stated, low grit in his tone. “Push me away all you want, I’m not letting my perfect woman slip through my fingers. Not when I know you feel the same way I do.”

You should’ve left and forgotten about him, but you took the bait.

“Oh, please, enlighten me. How’s that exactly?”

“Restless. Every fucking second of the day. Wondering if I’d laugh at the joke I just told or if I’d enjoy the new restaurant you’re at. Tired and grumpy, because you want me lying next to you so bad that you can’t sleep at night. Frustrated, because the moment we kissed, I ruined everyone else for you.”

You snorted, amused both at the accuracy of his words and how much they irritated you. Hopefully he’d assume you were mocking him. It had to be some sort of superpower, there was no other way he could read you so effortlessly. With every layer of sarcasm he peeled you felt more naked, more vulnerable to his sharp sweet nothings. Falling for him felt inevitable and you were afraid of crash-landing.

“Maybe you didn’t see me making out with a guy literally 5 minutes ago.”

“Oh, I did, sweet cheeks,” he said slowly, taking a step towards you. His lips curled upwards and you swallowed hard at the sight. He was hypnotic, expensive clothes fitting like a second skin. What an awful moment for your legs to become butter. “I saw his sloppy tongue on your mouth and you not smiling at him like you do with me. I saw how you kissed him just to take me out of your head.”

Your retreat ended quickly when your back bumped into the door you had been so determined to walk through. Emergency exit now blocked, the only strategy left was to hold your ground. And you would’ve, but the beating of your heart drowned any coherent thought. He stopped when the tips of his shoes kissed yours. Lifting your chin up, you tried to swallow the sand in your throat to no avail. Seokjin propped his hands on each side of your head, the slow tempo of his movements almost theatrical. Spikes of anticipation raised all over your skin. As he caged you, his eyes leveled with yours. You saw a glimmer of triumph in them, lips stretched in a self-satisfied grin. Maybe you could bite it off, kiss him hard enough to erase it.

“Careful, your ego is showing.”

“Your bluff too,” he countered.

The poorly lit alley stayed silent for hours in the little bubble your words created. Stray raindrops that slid from the rooftops hit the ground uncomfortably loud. Perhaps it was just your percepcion. Seokjin held your glare with blazing determination. It was useless, you couldn’t convince him to leave. Around him you felt made out of glass, he saw through every lie and every rejection. You were love-sick and you both knew. There was no miracle remedy, no snake oil to cure this heart infection —it spread too deep already. The further away you tried to stay out of love, the deeper you got in it. The poetic irony might just as well slap an ‘I was here’ sticker on your forehead.

With a heavy sigh you accepted defeat.

“What do you want from me, Jin?”

Your whisper came out as a plea. Arms went limp on your sides, exhausted. ‘ Please, be gentle ,’ you wanted to say. Even if the words never came out, Seokjin understood. Your features stiffened as you braced yourself for the blow, ready to take the hit. You looked too fragile, too beaten. He hated it. Seokjin felt the need to hold you and make all the promises he intended to keep. He’d be there to lull you to sleep if you cried, to share your smiles, to lift you when you fell, to say ‘sorry’ every time he’d fuck up and ‘it’s ok’ when you did. A four-letter word burned his throat like alcohol, but he wouldn’t voice it —he didn’t want to scare you away.

“Right now? I want to kiss you. I want to take you home and take my time eating you out to get whatever doubt you might have about me, about us, out of your system. I want to make you come while you scream my name and forget that stupid idiot and any other idiot before him. I want to fuck you slow to make you understand how much you want me and then hard to show you how much I need you.” He inched even closer, trapping your eyes with his so you could read his heart in them. “I want to find you beside me in the morning and make a routine out of it. I want you to laugh at my naked butt in an apron while I make breakfast and fuck you again and again in the kitchen until you to beg me to never let go.”

He paused, lifting a hand to cup your cheek. His eyes fleeted down as his lips ghosted yours, tickling the skin with his breath, and then back up for his next words.

“I want everything with you.”

You were desperate to close the distance in a kiss, drown in his words. Techno beat pounded in your chest so loud that you thought something might explode. Everything . You wanted that too.

“Jin, I…” as you talked, your lips graced his. He looked at you intently, pupils completely blown and a choked gasp escaped him at the brief contact. The hand on your face tensed, showing you his neediness. It only spurred yours. “I’ve tried this before and it never turns out well.”

“Not with me, sweet cheeks.”

“I’m scared. What if—?”

“Don’t be,” he cut with a smile and a wink. “You’re stuck with me. I promise.”

Tired of fighting a lost battle, you gave in. Your body moved on its own and you closed the barely-existing space between you, sealing your mouth and his with a kiss. There was urgency in his response, as his tongue immediately asked for permission. He kissed you with a starved need that you were quickly to match. His kisses were ardent, numbing you from anything outside Seokjin. Every doubt and heartbreak died where he started. Eager to taste you, he bit your lips until they puffed. Although neither of you couldn’t get enough of it, there was something gentle in your passion. His arms encased you and brought you close enough to fuse with him. Muscle memory laced your fingers to his dark hair, disheveling its perfect shape into whatever you wanted, and your hips grounded his. You molded together in a frenzy of desire. It was satisfying to see every limb and kiss back in place, exactly where they were meant to be. Like one of those compilation videos, it was addicting. The only thing missing was his bare skin on yours to make the moment perfect.

As you got lost in him, his words filled your head, triggering a moan that Seokjin drank with devotion. Perhaps it was foolish, but you let yourself believe him. No flowers, no romantic music in the background, just sincerity in his eyes as he said them. He didn’t paint a movie-like romance where every day would be perfect. He didn’t swear a life of never-ending happiness or vowed to never hurt you. No, he made one promise: that he’d be there. The effortless conviction in that one promise told you that he’d stay and try, that he’d fight for you. He was stubborn and persistent enough for you to trust him. Besides, he always kept his promises before.

Now that you allowed what you felt for him to flow freely, you couldn’t cointan it. He flipped your world upside down. You wanted to tell him what an irritating, fun, conceited, irresistible prick he was, that sometimes you would choke him and others you would kiss him until your lips drew blood, that with him you felt the barest you’ve ever been, but also the safest. Words weren’t enough to express all that, so you kissed him fervently and urged him closer, your heartbeat reverberating in his chest, to show him instead. He grunted, immersed in you and those words you didn’t speak. No need for it, he heard them in the way you moaned and pressed against his hardened cock, seeking desperately some kind of friction. Your hands roamed his shoulders, crinkling the material of his shirt. He felt so yearned for that he forgot to breathe. When his lungs couldn’t take it anymore, Seokjin broke the kiss, missing it the moment cold air hit his wet lips. You whined at the loss, but allowed yourself a moment to recover. Panting heavily, you both stared at each other. At that moment, he looked perfect. Dishevelled and void of that cold mask he wore most of the time, it was the final shot you could take —you were recklessly and catastrophically in love, with no hope of recovery. All that fight you put up, just to lose anyway. What a poor soldier you’d make. With a breathy laugh you rested your forehead on his chin, which brought a bright smile. Still trying to get some air, he kissed your hairline tenderly as he brushed back flyaway strands. Your fingers mimicked the intimate gesture, drawing circles on the nape of his long neck.

“By the way, I don’t beg,” you quipped suddenly, lifting your head so he could see the arch on your brow and a half bitten smirk. The moment was getting too soppy already.

“You look like you enjoy new experiences.”

A wink and a kiss and then you were in his arms again, hidden in your newfound shelter as it started to drizzle in the back alley of Dionysus.

ᴛᴀɢʟɪsᴛ: @aretha170

ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʀᴇᴘᴏsᴛ, ᴇᴅɪᴛ ᴏʀ ᴛʀᴀɴsʟᴀᴛᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ © hear-me-growl, October 2020

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hear-me-growl · 4 years ago

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Ambrosia | Ksj | Chapter V

ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴏɴ Aᴏ3 || Dɪᴏɴʏsᴜs ·ᴘᴜʙ· ᴍᴀsᴛᴇʀᴘᴏsᴛ || ↻ʙᴀᴄᴋ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴀsᴛᴇʀʟɪsᴛ

> ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: smut, humor, fluff | s2l > ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: millionaire!Seokjin x bartender!, nyotaimori model!Reader > ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: mature [+18]; strong language and explicit sex > ᴡᴏʀᴅᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 6.9k

sᴇʀɪᴇs ɪɴᴅᴇx || ⟵ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ɪᴠ | ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴠɪ ⟶

💙 ᴀ/ɴ: holy shit, this one’s is a big boy. This chapter has been a nightmare. I’ve been stuck on it for weeks. I had it planned and all, but for some reason it didn’t feel right. The tone was getting way too angsty, so I rewrote the whole thing multiple times. 😩 Hopefully you guys like the end result!

Next chapter will be the final one, I think? Depends on how carried away I get 😅 Is anyone else excited for these two idiots? Let me know!

“My head is killing me.”

“Lightweight.”

A streak of sunlight filtering through the curtains reminded you both that life went on outside your smelly apartment. You opened the window to let in some fresh air, which makes your friend shriek and hide under the blanket. Last night’s scraps —half eaten chips and pulp-less lemon wedges— came to life under the light. The leftover still life accentuated the taste of alcohol on your mouth and you walked to the kitchen in need of something to wash it off.

Best friend bonding nights ended up inevitably in hungover mornings. That is, using the term “morning” loosely. It was a routine you both had perfected. First you sneaked shots at work and went to your apartment after closing. Then you did even more shots, talking and laughing over whatever sappy movie you were pretending to watch. Last but not least, you both fell asleep on the couch Tetris-style.

At the sound of you waking up, your cat-shaped demon strutted proudly towards you. She tangled between your legs, making you trip to avoid stepping on her and hitting something in the process. With a curse, you rubbed your sore knee while trying to remember where you set her food last time. She was a genius glutton, so you had to change the hiding spot constantly. Otherwise she would get to it, no matter how high or locked it was. Impatient, the feline followed you around. Shortie joined her high pitched meows, complaining about the noise. As you exited the bathroom with her precious pebbles, the feline purred happily. You kept the light on for your best friend, who hurried inside to purge any leftover mistakes from her stomach.

The flush went on while you poured some juice for her. Wiping her chin, she joined you in the kitchen with a grimace.

“I’m too small to drink that much. Never again.”

“You always say that and never keep your word.”

“Don’t expect it to be any different this time,” she downed the glass desperate to wash off the taste.

“At least you’re consistent,” you quipped.

Sitting on the counter, you pushed a plate towards her before chomping on your breakfast. While you hummed a song you couldn’t remember, Shortie eyed the butter as it melted on golden bread for a minute. An annoyed groan brought you back from your thoughts.

“Ughhh… I’m pretty sure I’m gonna puke last night all over again.”

“Are you dissing my breakfast-making skills?” You turned to her, quirking a brow. Her eyes widened, and she shook her arms, making a fuss.

“No, no! It looks amazing, really, but my stomach is—”

“Chill,” you interrupted her with a satisfied grin. “I’m just messing with you.”

“I hate you,” she glared while you picked up her plate. No way you’d let it go to waste. “Glad to see you’re enjoying the new toaster.”

The incredulous look you gave her, as if she hit her head somewhere, made Shortie giggle. She could tell you appreciated her gift. Bribe. There was a blurry line between those terms.

“Not enjoying, loving. Bitch, have you seen it? It’s yellow and says ‘I loaf you’. I loaf you. This is the peak of my existence,” you raved between mouthfuls.

“Well, at least you got something out of dating a millionaire...”

“Don’t start with your Seokjin crusade,” you warned with a groan. What nice way to ruin breakfast.

“What? I didn’t say anything yet?”

Feigned innocence always looked good on her, all doe-eyed and pouty, brows sloping at the end. She took advantage of it whenever she could, but hungover you wasn’t having it.

“I mean it,” you hopped off the counter, rounding her to wash the dishes. “It’s too early for that shit.”

“It's past 12.”

“Exactly,” you grunted.

Just a few seconds passed, silence only disrupted by your scrubbing. Your friend nibbled her lip as she did when she mulled over something.

“Well, it’s not like those old ones you are used to, but I’m happy you like the thing,” she chirped, standing next to the toaster. “You should listen to me more often. I mean, look at it! Beautiful, elegant, funny and it definitely knows how to toast your bread.”

Her hand slid across the shiny surface distractedly, but still scanned your reactions from the corner of her eye.

“Very subtle.”

Ever since she met Seokjin at the bar, he seemed fixed on the idea of you dating him. She managed to shift the conversation towards him one way or another. A skill as impressive as it was irritating.

“He came by the other day. Again. I forgot to tell you.”

“Thanks for the report, soldier, but you don’t need to notify me every time he shows up. I don’t care.”

“The best sex you’ve ever had crosses Seoul, sits alone and orders a single drink just for a chance of seeing you. It’s my moral obligation to let you know.”

“He might like the place,” you shrugged.

Shortie closed the faucet to get your full attention. No need to take a look at her to know exactly the frown she wore —the one that made you feel like a child being scolded. In a weak attempt to avoid it, you left the kitchen. She followed you closely, not giving you a chance to escape.

“He likes you.”

“I’m flattered.” Unfazed, you slumped on the couch.

“We talked for a bit, you know? Poor guy wanted to know why are you avoiding him,” she continued as she sat beside you.

“Poor guy? Not your finest word choice,” you snickered, triggering an exasperated eye roll.

“I don’t get you. You say you don’t give a damn, but you hide under the counter whenever he shows up. You won’t respond to his texts, but you read them all. You say he’s just another random hookup, but then admit it felt different —good different.”

“When did I say that?”

“Last night,” she chuckled implishly, reaching for an empty bottle on the floor and shaking it teasingly. “You always spill your guts with tequila.”

She kept her gaze fixed on you. Shifting a bit, you scratched your neck to relieve the uncomfortable itch of the conversation. Why did she have to press you on the matter? If he was so damn perfect, she should marry him. You’d even hold her up for the kiss to spare him the back pains.

“Your point is?”

“Stop being so stubborn and give him a chance. Not just for him, for you too. I know you don’t need it, but you deserve someone who takes good care of you. He’s into you and you’re into him, so what’s the problem?”

“I’m not—”

“Nope, can’t fool me,” she grinned. “I see the way you look at your phone. Sorry to break it out to you, but he’s got you hooked.”

“Ok, now I know you’re still drunk. He’s the opposite of my type.”

“Your type is crap. Plus we both know that’s not the reason why you push him away.” She took a breath after rolling your eyes and occupied yourself with a loose thread on the blanket. “It’s been three years since your ex, I think you should give Jin a try.”

“Hey! We agreed not to talk about The Maggot.”

A well-deserved nickname for that wormy bastard. Just a few months with him, you’d reached the lowest point in your life. He feasted on the lack of self-love you’d accumulated through the years and wrecked all the progress you’d made since leaving home. He seemed to grow bigger the more wounded and hurt you were, so he made sure you felt like shit. Thus: The Maggot.

“Desperate times call for desperate measures,” she stuck her tongue out when your face puckered. “Give him a chance, not everyone is like that jerk.”

“Since your weird obsession with Seokjin is clogging those cute ears, I’ll say it again: I don’t want a relationship. It always ends up being a mess, I end up a mess and I’m tired of it. I’d rather have fun, no strings attached,” you shrugged.

“Look, babe,” the sudden tenderness in her voice formed a knot that you forced down your throat. “I know better than anyone that you’ve been hurt before. I get it, it’s scary. There’s nothing wrong with hookups, if that is what makes you happy. Just don’t let all the assholes before Jin scare you out of love. It doesn’t suit you, you’ve always been the fierce one.”

The both of you stayed like that for a while. Shortie rubbed circles on your back, waiting patiently for you to sort things out on your own. She wanted to hug you, but you knew she wouldn't push you anymore and you appreciated her understanding. With a heavy sigh, you turned to her.

“Let’s just take another nap, I have work tonight.”

“Ok,” she complied with a bright smile that made you forget the mess in your head before pointing to the couch. “But, please, not on this spine-wrecker.”

Late. Again.

The red bulb shined mockingly, brighter as seconds passed. The erratic drum of your fingers on the wheel only unnerved you further, but they had a mind of their own. Tonight’s event was big and you’ve spent extra time pampering yourself to look your best. No one wants sushi on hairy legs. However, your cat decided that it was as good a day as any to battle the living room lamp, which hit the glass coffee table when defeated. To top your exasperation, she had the audacity to look upset at your scolding. Insolent punk.

You arrived at the location, a tall mirror reflecting Seoul back at you and checked the address once more. Top floor, naturally. What was with businesspeople and heights? Must be nice constantly looking at the world from above. You checked yourself in the lift’s mirror, to put any hair that got wild with the rush back in place. Tapping your foot, you glared at the numbers passing by on the screen. For a spaceship-like elevator, it was pretty damn slow. Just your luck, Tanaka was in the kitchen tonight. Whenever you worked with him, you found a new level of stress you didn’t know you could reach. Being the best sushi chef at the catering, he could make anyone lose their job just by saying the word. To add to your luck, he hated your guts. You became his least favourite model since that one time you might have showed up a bit tipsy. However you absolutely did not fall asleep as he claimed, just rested your sight —two minutes maximum. Guests didn’t even notice. Next thing you knew, he was yelling something about his art being disrespected by a westerner, berserk mode on. So he definitely wouldn’t take well you being late. You sighed heavily, hoping that at least the froth coming from his mouth didn’t spray in your direction.

Ding

Shit. Tanaka had to be furious, he never texted. Hell, he barely even talked to you. Reluctantly, you unlocked your phone, mentally prepared for a scolding. You breathed once you saw the screen —Kim freaking Seokjin and his timing. Numbers increased in slow motion as you considered answering. You really should ignore him, but there were fifteen floors left. Enough time for you to try to get through his thick skull that you wouldn’t go out with him again.

Doors opened suddenly and you jumped a bit. Moment of truth. Anyone else would’ve been scared of the pair of sharp eyes that greeted you —disintegrating every single cell in your body— but you were no coward. After an uncomfortable apology, you took off your clothes and laid on the table so he could begin his artistry.

You found out that Tanaka was even scarier when he gave the silent treatment. As you felt him and his kitchen helpers place food and decorations on your skin, you simply stared at the ceiling. Soon enough your head filled with a bit of everything: shopping list, your dad’s iconic moustache, the lightbulb that needed changing… Eventually, your mind gravitated to Seokjin. It was a common occurrence these days, much to your distaste. Not only did he show up at the bar or texted randomly, he had to pop into your head too. He just made way through your mind, pushing aside everything else. As if you didn’t have anything better to think about. Even his abstract self could be an arrogant jerk.

Was it cruel to let him believe that you were out with someone else? Perhaps, but that was your last resort to keep him at bay. Most likely looking for round two, he’d been persistent —obnoxiously persistent. To be honest, you couldn’t blame him. On a scale of one to ten, your night together made the scale its bitch. After almost a month, you still found yourself spacing out thinking about it. A little guilty pleasure that you’d never admit out loud.

Of course you could always give in. You’d call, ask about his day and go somewhere nice just to end up in his bed again. You could’ve stayed that morning with him instead of running away. But you knew those deals already. Love always came with fine print. Jealous outbursts even when they were the cheater or nasty comments about the things you were proud of. Maybe they enjoyed making you feel small and worthless just so they could look better next to you, like The Maggot. Or perhaps they just wanted to fuck the dumb, foreign girl because “she’s a freak in bed”. The list went on. No one knew better —you’d been through all of them. Dangerous men, all wrapped with charming personalities and big smiles to distract from the trail of broken hearts behind them. Given how your face lit up whenever your screen did, Seokjin was one to be especially careful around. His unread texts meant trouble.

Blocking his number would’ve been the smartest solution. Quick, like ripping off a bandaid. Still, there was a part of you that wanted to wait and see if he’d grow tired of chasing after you and go find an easier target. Not if, when. So far, he’d lasted longer than you expected.

A heavy sigh was your queue to sneak a glance at the chef, currently wrinkling his nose at work in front of him. He checked his watch before turning to his ever-tense kitchen helpers.

“Guests are arriving soon, so this will have to do. I can’t do miracles. We’re 15 minutes short on presentation time thanks to someone’s incompetence and we don’t have nearly enough greenery to cover all the imperfections.” The not-so-subtle side eye at you didn’t go unnoticed. “I’m not proud of tonight’s piece, team. We’ll have to compensate for it with an impeccable service.”

Hearing disappointment in their superior’s voice instantly glued eyes to the floor. You winced, knowing it was your fault.

“Well? Don’t just stand there, idiots! Move, move!” He ordered, making them all jump and scatter like scared mice.

With that, he turned around and zeroed in on you. Upper lip raised, the chef got closer until he was towering you. His imposing demeanor had you squaring up as much as you could without the food on you falling. Tanaka’s favourite activity was intimidating others. Enough dealing with bullies taught you that is best not to show them fear.

“I know I’m asking a monkey to do magic, but try not to ruin my night further or I’ll personally make sure that you never work again,” he spat before walking away.

Silent treatment was definitely better. That man’s tongue was sharp as his knives. You released a breath you didn’t know you were holding and let your muscles relax. It was going to be a long night.

“Everything looks spectacular, Mr. Choi. Wouldn’t expect less from a man like you.”

An hour in and no incidents so far. Tanaka had relaxed a bit. Not around you, of course. Whenever he came to check, you could feel his eyes slicing you up like hamachi. However, the other cooks and the service left the kitchen far less horrified.

Two men chatted by the table you laid on. Head filled with nothing you kept your eyes on the intricate ceiling with a blank expression. Usually you didn’t pay much attention to the conversations around you —too much business talk. However they sometimes served as distraction for the ache of laying still for hours.

Tonight’s host, Mr. Choi, an older man with a neat haircut and small hands, turned his head to you. “I chose the model specifically for you. I thought you’d feel more at home with a bit of western flavor to your food, Mr. Harper.”

“Everything is perfect, I’m grateful for your hospitality.” He took a piece of sashimi, his gaze lingering on you. “Is this a Korean tradition?”

“Japanese. I find nyotaimori an exquisite showcase of artistry, although it is an unusual practice. Forbidden in some countries, even.” The older man got closer to the other, as they inspected you.

“I envy you, Mr. Choi. Your eye for beauty is as sharp as the one for business.”

“It is, indeed,” he chuckled. “My old friend Mr. Kim told me you and I would get along. His son has a gift for reading people and he speaks highly of your company. I think you’ve met him already?”

“Yes, I have. I’ll admit I was discouraged when Mr. Kim sent his son to talk business instead of doing it himself. Five minutes with the boy, and I realised my mistake. He’s a bit younger than me, but he has experience and confidence way above his age.”

“Just like his father, that old devil. Look, there he is. Perfect timing, as always,” he turned with a beaming smile and gestured for someone to join the conversation. “Come here, son! We were talking about you just now.”

With an odd feeling in your gut, you bit the inside of your cheek. Not him. There’s a Kim every two Koreans, please, not him. From the corner of your eye, you catched a glimpse of the man approaching before averting your gaze.

The universe hated you.

“Only good things, I hope,” Seokjin bowed and the other two chuckled. “Good evening, gentlemen.”

“Mr. Harper here was telling how happy he is to do business with you.”

“The feeling is mutual.”

“I thought you wouldn’t come, son. I know you’re not a fan of these parties.”

“I couldn’t miss yours, Mr. Choi. Anyone in business knows: if you want to make the right connections, here’s the place.”

“Ah, always working. I’ll warn you, Mr. Harper, Seokjin here is a professional even after leaving the office. Since you two are close in age, I’m trusting you to make him loosen up a little,” he patted Seokjin’s broad back. “Come on, son. Get something to eat.”

There was a pause and the background noise quieted for a moment. Eyes fixed anywhere but him, you didn’t see his reaction once he realised you there. Would he wear the smirk he gave you when he saw you the first time in this exact position? Or would he arch his brow slightly like he did when something picked his interest but didn’t want it to show? Surprised at your own knowledge of Seokjin’s expressions, you didn’t realise him approaching until his voice rang much closer than before.

“With pleasure.”

His silhouette blocked the ceiling light, that shined like a halo around him. The eclipse-like effect would cover his reaction even if you dared to look. You felt your cheeks heat up and your toes curled nervously. He made no further comment, but you did notice his slow movements as he chose something with chopsticks. Despite your breath quickening, you didn’t take your eyes off the ceiling.

The conversation with his peers flowed casually, all business deals and market values, though you couldn’t focus on it anymore. Not with his efforts to draw your attention back to him. Standing near your table, Seokjin picked up something from your body every now and then. Whenever you felt his presence closer, something stirred deep inside you. A mixture of arousal and mortification. What if he told them about your night together? They’d probably lose their appetite, knowing their sushi platter made a mess on someone’s sheets. If you still had a job by the end of the night, you’d lose it. Though you doubted he’d even admit he’d fucked you, it would ruin his image in front of his partners. How many men like him admitted all the secretaries and maids and other nobodies they got frisky with? In his world, big names didn’t look good next to small ones. At the same time, the memory of his mouth on your skin and the dark ink of his lovebites on your neck the day after messed with your ability to think straight.

Eventually, he excused himself and greeted someone else, brushing your ankle when he walked past. You tensed immediately. Looking in his direction for the first time, you caught the faint outline of a smirk as sauntered away. The greater the distance he put between you, the easier it was to relax. Shortly after, you realised he wouldn’t allow it.

Time passed lazily, minutes turning into decades built up the stress of the night. First the incident with the chef, to whom you’d surely have to suck up to later in hopes he forgave your lack of punctuality. And then Seokjin and his cruel way of keeping you on edge. Without a phone screen or the bar counter as barrier, ignoring him proved to be tougher than you’d thought. All throughout the night you heard his voice, sometimes closer than others but never enough for you to figure out exactly where it came from. He wanted to make sure you didn’t forget about him, that he could approach and tease you whenever he pleased. At some point you grew tired of the tension.

Body perfectly still, you scanned the room until your eyes met. He kept talking to the expensive suit in front of him, but his gaze was undeniably locked on you. Mischief and playfulness poured out of his dark orbs and a little bit of something else. Maybe annoyance, maybe lust. It was usually hard to decipher his expressions, but even harder when he masked them for the other attendees. He seemed a different man, giving plastic smiles for his plastic friends —the tiny creases around his eyes nowhere to be seen. You missed them.

The little exchanges and glances grew bolder since that moment. For anyone else in the room, Seokjin behaved as the heir of one of the biggest companies in Korea should. For you, however, he’d lick his lips while devouring your body from afar or wink at you whenever he caught you staring back. To your surprise, no one seemed to take notice.

No matter how hard you tried, avoiding his gaze proved to be pointless. Like a magnet, your eyes were drawn to his before you could register it. It only spurred him to be more daring and it kept you on edge, afraid of him doing something that could cost you a paycheck.

At the end of the night, the clink of glasses and the frivolous chatter thinned and tangled with the slur of goodbyes and the buzz of waiters cleaning up. Only a small group was left. They smoked big cigars and discussed politics, faces red with alcohol, while you discreetly stretched your neck and counted the minutes. Just when you thought the night was almost over, your body tensed once more when you heard a familiar voice.

“I don’t think ‘mouthwatering’ does you justice, sweet cheeks.”

His words ringed too loud for your liking and your eyes bounced around the room. The smokers were too immersed in their secret competition for the biggest, rarest cigar and the workers seemed too eager to go home to pay attention. Seokjin sensed your apprehension and placed a hand next to your head, resting his weight on it so he would look straight down at you. You took a sharp breath when his thumb caressed your temple and you jerked away on instinct, the contact scolding your skin. His eyes briefly shot up to check if anyone had noticed the sudden movement, but landed immediately back on you.

“I like your dress, by the way,” he added. “It matches your imaginary date.”

An ugly scowl settled on your face, but he chose to ignore it. Tilting his head, he trailed down your form as you warned him with a huff. When his gaze met yours again, it narrowed dangerously. Even if his face was serene, his eyes weren’t. All the colors around you stirred in his black pools, a mysterious kaleidoscope you had never seen on them before. Your tongue itched from the unspoken expletives as you glared up at him. Without a sound, you gracefully mouthed a “fuck off.”

“Don’t look at me like that, the sushi is going to turn sour,” he grinned. “Can’t resist getting naked for me, hm? Next time I’d appreciate a warning if you are gonna show up like this. Do you know how difficult it is to do business with you teasing me?”

Your brows shot up at his words. Only if you could tell him to get his egocentric ass out of his mouth.

“It’s cruel to take advantage of my weaknesses, sweet cheeks,” he tutted. “Not fair play.”

“I am working,” you reminded quietly through a clenched jaw, voice low and gritty with irritation.

“It hasn’t stopped you from ogling me like you want me to fuck you senseless in front of everyone.”

Once again, his carefree tone felt dangerous. Although the remaining guests' cackles overpowered his words, for you they still boomed too loud. So much, that your traitorous body rumbled at his suggestion despite the fear of being discovered.

He caught the subtle way your teeth trapped your bottom lip before it tightened in a line. Not even your frown could hide your pupils expanding and he smiled wolfishly. You’d tried so hard to keep him at a distance, to act cold around him. The weeks after he woke to the lingering bittersweetness of your perfume he’d been wondering why. Right there and then, he got his answer.

“You’re gonna get me fired. Leave.”

“Then tell me why are you avoiding me,” he asked, although he didn't need to.

“Get a pen, there’s a whole list of reasons,” your quiet retort made him chuckle darkly.

“Will you read them to me after work? If you’re good, you’ll get a spank for each one,” he winked. If anyone looked in your direction, you would be in trouble. He was too close and the flowers on you laid off their designated spots.

“Just lea— ”

The rasp of a throat clearing tore the air and your body became stone. Seokjin straightened his back calmly, not even bothered by the interruption, but your head whipped to the noise at lightning speed. You felt the petals on you fall on the table, followed by a piece of sushi.

“I’m awfully sorry, Mr. Kim. But the nyotaimori exhibition is over. If you wish to eat something else, our buffet is still open.”

Tanaka snapped his fingers and two waiters picked your table and brought you into the kitchen. You didn’t miss the throbbing vein on his forehead when he bowed for the millionaire.

The pleasant bell of the elevator mimicked the end of a boxing match after a knock out. Utterly defeated, your feet dragged on the beautiful carpet that led you out of the building.

Your head was pounding with the echoes of the chef’s harsh scolding. A few of your coworkers chatted by the entrance, but quieted down when they spotted you. No need to be a genius to know the nasty things they whispered as you walked past them. They’ve witnessed the scene just moments ago. Tanaka yelled and yelled while you just stood there, drenched in all his anger. Pathetic excuse of a model. That’s what he called you. From his point of view, you broke your obligations and tried to get a millionaire’s attention. Someone who, as he kindly reminded, would never mix with the likes of you for more than a fun night. His hurtful comments didn’t end there, but that part stuck with you the most.

Cold hit your face as you exited the building, freezing any lingering thought and you breathed out to fill your lungs with that same peace. Once outside, where the usually frency of Seoul slept, you could store the night in the drawer of moments that you’d rather forget.

“Hello, sweet cheeks.”

Any prospect of serenity on the quiet night air crashed with just three words. Him, always him. Whenever you allowed yourself to relax, he always appeared. Like a fly on a hot summer evening, sticking to your skin and buzzing until it drew you crazy. You walked past the spot where he leaned against the wall with a huff.

“How about I take you on an actual date tonight? I sneaked a bottle of wine.”

Nothing. Maybe it was childish to ignore him, but you didn’t have the energy to deal with him, not tonight, so you kept walking.

“Should I take that as a yes?”

The more he talked, the faster your irritation started to boil. Without sparing him a glance, you kept your pace. Seokjin jogged a bit to keep up and frowned himself as he noticed your scowl deepening.

“Baby, it’s hard to maintain a conversation if you don’t help me out a bit.”

The burning tick of your brow marked the countdown before the explosion, you knew that. It bothered you how his long legs could easily match your quick pace. You fished the car keys out of your pocket, taking a turn to cross the street.

“You are angry with me,” he stated.

A scoff escaped your throat, as you smiled dryly.

“To be angry I’d have to give two shits about you, which I don’t.”

“Ouch,” he grimaced at your clipped tone and let you put some distance between the two, considering your words. Aware that he walked on thin ice, he caught up once again with a smirk. At least he got you talking.

“You sure about that? You seem pretty angry to me.”

Exasperated, you stopped abruptly, fire burning in your eyes. It took him by surprise how serious your expression became. Maybe he’d overstepped in his attempts to lift up your mood, maybe he’d really fucked up.

“What the hell are you doing here, Seokjin?”

“Just wanted to check if everything is fine with your boss,” he was cautious, approaching you as if he wanted to pet a lion.

“No, it’s not fucking fine,” you snapped with an accusatory finger to his chest. “I almost got fired.”

“I’m sorry, sweet cheeks, I shouldn’t have messed around while you were working. I didn’t consider the consequences.”

“Of course you didn’t. Losing your job is not something that ever scares you, hm? The little prince has his life sorted out already. Must be nice.”

Voice loaded with sourness, you held his gaze. Apart from his lips tightening in a thin line, Seokjin kept his usual unreadable self. He didn’t even have the decency to look intimidated by your anger. Blood pulsed in your temples like migraine. God, he was so infuriating.

“By the way, don’t you ever call anyone to clean up my shit again. I don’t need it. I can deal with my own problems.”

When Tanaka had been done yelling and calling you names, he contacted the higher ups. Neither of you expected the woman on the other side of the line brushing the chef’s complaints off so easily —the guest had cleared up the situation already. She hung up with a grin in her voice after praising your ability to “befriend” such a powerful man, and you were left dumbfounded. Since that job covered most of your bills, it was a relief to keep it. That aside, you were fuming. One phone call, that’s all it took for him to make the problem disappear. Was life really so easy for him? Was he so dense to think his last name would solve anything? He surely didn’t give a shit about putting you in that situation in the first place, or your coworkers thinking of you as a slut. Above everything else, it pissed you off that he thought you needed to be saved, like it was his charity act of the month.

“My behaviour tonight was unacceptable and you shouldn’t be the one to pay for it. Now I see I overstepped, so I apologise for that too,” he said after a pause. His eyes softened and you noticed his shoulders drooping slightly. “It’s just— You do things to me, sweet cheeks, you don’t even realise. I can’t think straight around you. Not that that’s an excuse, but it’s the truth. I really am sorry, I didn’t want to cause you trouble.”

“Oh, thanks! That fixes everything. Glad that you got that out of your chest, wouldn’t want to make you feel guilty about it,” you sneered.

Seokjin followed like a watchdog as you resumed your walk, taking big steps in a futile attempt to leave the man behind. Not only him, but the inconvenient flutter in your stomach too. Mulling over his words, you chewed the inside of your cheek. You do things to me, sweet cheeks. So casual about it, he could’ve been chatting about the weather with a neighbour.

“Let me take you home, at least, to make sure you are safe,” he offered, taking your wrist to stop you.

“No,” you jerked away, his touch blistering your skin. “Don’t take me home, don’t call me, don’t text me.”

“I can’t help it. I like you, sweet cheeks. A lot. One night is not enough, I want more than that.”

You felt it, the skip in your heartbeat. Deep within you, it faltered. Scared, wounded, hopeful. Occasional sex was your usual go-to for a good reason. That’s why you only got involved with the “not-the-boyfriend-type” kind of men, to avoid those kinds of messy, unnecessary feelings. You didn’t need anyone to take away your individuality or change your life —you liked freedom. However, your issues with love ran deeper than that.

Admittedly, you were scared of letting anyone in. You’d been hurt and mocked many times, leashed and scolded enough to be reduced to a shell devoid of any worth. But you learned, hit after hit, and grew protective thorns everytime it happened. Yet, the sly bastard had managed to sneak behind your defenses. Maybe it wasn’t too late to get a hold of yourself.

“Well, it is for me. I’m sorry, but I don’t do the whole boyfriend thing anymore.”

“Tell me you don't like me back.” “Have I not been clear enough? I think I’ve showed you many times that I’m not interested.”

“You kissed me,” he countered, stopping you in your tracks. “The morning you left.”

You faced him after a deep breath, exhausted from his insistence. “That’s playing dirty. You were supposed to be sleeping.”

“Why did you? If you wanted a one time thing, you would’ve just left. But you kissed me goodbye,” he pressed. “Not to be nice or polite or because you thought you had to —I wouldn’t have noticed anyway. And yet, you decided to kiss me. Why?”

“Goddamn, rich boy. It was just a kiss, don’t read too much into it.”

“Fine,” he said, his tone stern with a hint of a snarl. “If you won’t, I’ll say it for you. You felt something that night and you feel it still, I can tell.”

“Let me get one thing straight: just because we fucked doesn’t mean you know me. Stop trying to decide what I do or do not feel. You can’t just magically appear in people's lives and expect to be the center of their existence. It’s so goddamn irritating, you are everywhere. If I’m at Dionysus, I get tense whenever that fucking door opens in case it’s you. Everytime I look at my phone there’s a stupid text, or worse, there’s nothing it messes my head up. Even my best friend won’t shut up about you! It’s like a horror movie, I swear. Just leave me alone, I don’t want whatever this shit is. It’s driving me insane.”

“This,” you gestured between the two after a heavy sigh, “was a one time thing, fun, nice sex. End of story.”

“Just nice?” Devilish smile already blooming, he stalked closer. “After all the screaming I was expecting good, at least. I’ll work harder next time, I’m aiming for A+.”

The moment he was close enough for you to have to crane your neck up, your burning gaze mixed with his. His cologne hit your senses and you remembered how it stuck to your tongue when you kissed his body, sweat and lust making the scent borderline intoxicating. It fuelled your resolve to turn him down before his voice trapped you under his spell —saccharine and enticing, like a siren.

“There’s no next time, so go try to get someone else fired,” you tried to cover the lack of steadiness in your words with a dismissive gesture.

“Oh, there will be, don’t you worry,” he chuckled before holding your glare with firm determination. “That pretty mouth might say one thing, but your body tells me otherwise. I know you can’t resist me, just like I can’t resist you. At some point you’re going to admit it and let me kiss you and fuck you how you want me to.”

He didn’t lean forward to level your eyes, didn’t let his hand wander on your body —he didn’t need to. Standing there, centimetres away from you, Seokjin knew he had a bigger effect on you than you anticipated. However, your pride took over. The right to decide your feelings wasn’t his and you were determined to show him.

“I wouldn’t bet on it if I were you.”

“Why not? I love winning.”

His cheshire grin set something ablaze in your gut. Unsure if it was irritation or something else, you took a step back. He looked stunning, his sharp suit accentuating those wide shoulders and dark locks neatly brushed back. But what really took you breath away was the glint in his eyes. Dangerous and playful at the same time, in complete dissonance with his impassive pose.

“Good night, Mr. Kim.”

This time, only his eyes followed as the streets of Seoul swallowed the sweet enigma that was you.

ᴛᴀɢʟɪsᴛ: @aretha170

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