#sax settlements and speakeasies

[onlymingyus]

Bed of Roses (sax, settlements, and speakeasies collab)

pairing; lee seokmin (dk/dokyeom) x afab reader

genre; smut (minor dni), fluff, romance, angst

warnings; unprotected sex, marking, scratching, use of a rose as foreplay (rubbed against pussy), mentions the readers hair being pinned up and longer, cigarettes/smoking, alcohol, fighting, use of 1920's slang (probably poorly)

w/c; 6.7k and some change 

sax, settlements, and speakeasies masterlist

a/n; this was a fun fic to write, i tried to do as much research as i could but as with any period fic there will be inconsienctancies and lack of knowledge. thank you to @hyucks-rose for hosting this collab! thank you to @junkissed-replies and @wonwussy for reading and proofreading! please be sure to read all the fics in the collab as some will overlap -- mine will overlap some with @lipglossjun especially as she is writing for jihoon

Seokmin’s fingers run along the microphone, a smile crossing his lips that makes your stomach tighten even before he looks in your direction. A rose in his left hand, his signature prop every performance. Seokmin’s voice feels like silk against your skin as it reaches your ears.  

He grins into his song, his voice melting every person’s heart as he makes eye contact with a choice few before settling on you. You press your lips together, crossing your legs from one direction to the other and drawing his eyes down to them before he looks away. He knew better than to linger too long with all the eyes on him, especially Lee Jihoon’s, his boss and your brother. 

Your teeth catch your lip as he sings, making the women next to you swoon as if they get to go home with him at the end of the night. He had that effect on people. He could look at them, sing or talk to them, and make them feel like they were the only person in the entire world. When in reality you were the only person he wanted in his world and in his bed every night. 

Moving around the bar, Jihoon pauses to lean on the end, watching Seokmin with careful eyes. He was proud of the man, not only as an employee but as a friend. He had watched him grow into his voice over the past few years and over the past few months it had seemed his confidence had gotten even stronger. 

Jihoon’s eyes fell on you sitting at a front table, your finger running around the rim of a Jack Rose, a recent favorite of yours. You spent most of your nights here, though he urged you to find something better to do with your time. There were much better places for a woman who looked as nice as you to be, but you insisted on coming to The Diamond Glass night after night. 

“God, he’s a real cake-eater.” You narrow your eyes slightly to the conversation to your right, two girls swooning over Seokmin as he makes his way down the steps finishing his set. The rose dangling from his fingers. Each night he would hand off that rose to a lucky lady and most nights, just like tonight it ended up between your fingers. “Miss Lee.”

You laugh, feeling your cheeks burning at his attention and everyone else’s in the room. The girls at your side scoff, “He only gives it to her because she’s the owner’s kid sister. Sucking up to his boss, pretty smart of him. He’s using his head, can’t fault him for being smart.” 

Seokmin sighed softly, his back turned to the women. He had heard their conversation as well but he was a smart man who knew which battles to choose…even if they included you. Walking back up the stairs, Seokmin takes a bow then gestures to his band taking extra care to give more attention to the piano player, Junhui. The man grins, his fingers running across the ivory like he was born on that stool and to be in front of an audience. 

“Thank you ladies and gents. Refill your drinks and give another round of applause for Mr. Lee Jihoon for making any of this possible.” The patrons gasp in awe, many of them turning towards where Seokmin gestures at the bar to look at Jihoon. The man clearly not wanting the attention, simply lifts a hand and presses his lips together. His eyes scan over the crowd for you but in the excitement he had lost track of you, the only thing left on your table is a half finished Jack Rose and a long stem red rose. 

You smile against Seokmin’s lips, his fingers pressing against your sides to hold you against the wall of the dressing room. He couldn’t help but to return the smile having watched you as much as he could during his performance. You had fueled him and also frustrated him. “God, doll…you drive me crazy. You know that?” 

Nipping at his lips causes a small groan to slip from Seokmin’s lips. He knew that you were a minx and that you knew exactly what you were doing. “I don’t know nothin’, Seokmin. I’m just some girl who’s fallen head over heels for some singer.” 

Shaking his head, Seokmin’s smile pulls at the corner of his eyes. Your fingers clinging to his suit jacket feels like the only thing keeping him grounded to Earth. “Is that what you are?” Lifting his hand, Seokmin runs his thumb along your cheek, his index finger folded under your chin to lift your gaze to meet his own. 

“I think you are so much more than that. I’d give it all up for you, but you know that. Couldn’t stand hearing those girls running their traps off about something they don’t know anything about. Wanted to tell them you are my girl and to mind their business…” 

When you laugh, lowering your eyes, leaning your head to press your lips to Seokmin’s palm he feels like he is melting on the spot. You didn’t have to do anything special to get him wound up. “You know you can’t.” 

Yeah, Seokmin knew but that didn’t mean it made it any easier. It wasn’t like this was just some crush, this was the real thing. He wanted to tell the world, most of all he wanted to tell Jihoon so the two of you could just stop hiding but even the thought of it made his stomach twist up in knots. 

Jihoon sighed heavily, pushing through the crowd trying to make his way towards the back hall. He wanted to figure out where you had slipped off to but after Seokmin’s gracious words the patrons had flooded him with talk. It wasn’t that he wasn’t grateful for them but he had a feeling and he wanted to follow up on it. 

Jun watched Jihoon carefully, managing to step in front of him before he reached the corner that would lead to the dressing rooms and bathrooms. His voice boisterous and cheerful as he leaned to pat his boss on the arm with a huge grin on his face. “The place is packed tonight Jihoon. What are you doing back here? You had people falling on their faces for a look at you.” 

Furrowing his brows Jihoon looked up at the piano player who was speaking far too loud for such a confined space. Junhui was a bit odd but this was strange even for him. “I’m doing something. What are you doin’? Nothing? Shouldn’t you be going back up on the piano soon?” 

He was right, Jun had taken his break so he was expected to be back on stage and getting people on their feet dancing. “Ah, yeah. I’ll head back out there. You know me boss. I’m just taking my time. So many people were up during it, I’m giving their dogs a chance to rest. Don’t need ‘em barkin while Seokmin is trying to sing, if you know what I’m saying.” 

You and Seokmin had already caught on to what Jun was doing for you two. He was one of the few people who knew about your relationship and also one who would help you hide it from Jihoon. With one final kiss that lingers longer than it should, you slip out the door and towards the bathroom as Jihoon groans at Jun’s words. 

“I get it. Have you seen my sister?” Jun swallows hard at the direct question, his elbow leaning awkwardly against the wall to block Jihoon when you open the door, slipping out only to open the bathroom door causing your brother to raise a brow. 

“Nah…why? She ain’t out there?” Raising his brow again, Jihoon scoffs, reaching up to pull Jun’s arm from the wall so he can push past him. It was all a little too suspicious at this point. You were up to something and this knucklehead knew more than he was saying. 

“No, obviously not so buzz off.” His shoulder hitting Jun on the way past him Jihoon starts to push open the dressing room causing Seokmin to take a sharp breath in when you open the bathroom door letting out a small sigh. 

“Jihoon?” His attention moving to you, hand dropping from the door, your brother scoffs glancing around before considering seeing who was in the dressing room again when you speak up. “What are you doing, following me?” 

“Question is, Y/N, what’re you doin?” 

You gesture back to the bathroom as if it should answer his question. Jihoon’s eyes look over your outfit then up to your face to your lips seeing your lipstick slightly smeared. “Yeah, sure and I’m a chump. If I’ve told you once, I've told you a hundred times not to be fooling around with these guys.” 

Narrowing your eyes, you push past your brother in a similar fashion he had pushed past Jun, only for Jihoon to put his hand around your arm pulling you back gently. “Y/N…I say it cause I care about you. I want you taken care of when you find someone to settle down with. Especially depending on who you were locking lips with…you ain’t gonna find that here.” 

Seokmin could hear the conversation moving away from the dressing room. His heart in his throat, he knew that Jihoon wasn’t wrong. He couldn't give you the life that you were already living, much less something better. All he could give you was what he had and his heart, and that you already had. 

Jihoon had walked you back to your seat, his hand moving from your arm so you could sit down. Gesturing to Joshua then your glass he got a nod knowing your drink would be refilled quickly. “Ya mad at me?” 

Your fingers ran over the stem of the flower in front of you as you shook your head no. Your heart is telling you something much different. You wanted to be upset with your brother but you knew he was trying to look out for you. You just wished he could see the same potential in Seokmin that you did. If he only knew it was Seokmin you were seeing and not just one of the randoms he had coming in for a week only to leave a couple of days later after making a couple of bucks. 

“No, Hoon…I’m not mad. Just wanna drink alone for a bit.” That told Jihoon all he needed to know. Leaning down he places a kiss to the top of your head and mutters a short ‘alright’ before he is taking his spot back near the bar, his watchful eyes never leaving you. 

Seokmin was trying to put away the overhead conversation from the club. You were standing in front of him in his apartment, no interruptions, no need to worry about anyone sticking their noses where they didn’t belong. It was just you and him. 

You smile when Seokmin moves behind you, his nose brushing against your neck next to your ear. A soft sound of pleasure slipping from his lips when he takes in a breath of you. You smelled sweet, a bit like apples and cinnamon. It was such a nice break from all that scent of booze and smoke earlier in the night. 

Your fingers slide over Seokmin’s forearm when he pushes his fingers along your lower stomach to pull you back against him. You could feel he wanted you just as much as you wanted him. Leaning your head back on his shoulder, you tilt your head to the side and just like you had hoped, Seokmin’s lips brush over yours gently. 

“Everything about you is too good for me. You know that?” Seokmin was finding it hard not to let his mind wander even with you in his arms, even with your lips so sweetly pressing against his own. When your nails gently scratch over his skin, Seokmin sighs against your kiss, his brows furrowing deep in thought. 

Turning in his arms, you drape your own around Seokmin’s neck looking up at him with curious eyes. “Why do you get to say so?” He couldn’t help but to let out a short, quiet laugh at your words. You were so headstrong, your entire family was like that. He had seen it with Jihoon and clearly when you wanted something you were going to get it. 

“I’m just sayin’, doll. I can only give you my heart…my voice, you know what I make.” His fingers slide along the back of your dress, undoing the buttons of your garment slowly. Each brush of his fingers caused you to take in a breath to steady yourself though you wanted to argue with his words. 

“I can’t buy a nicer place than this…you see what I got. This is probably all I ever have.” Lifting his hands, Seokmin runs the back of his fingers along your throat before dropping them to your shoulders to push your dress down your arms as he speaks. “I can’t give you the life you are living, much less a better one. I can’t put ice and marbles around your neck, as much as I’d like to.” 

The weight of your dress causes it to pool around your feet leaving you in your undergarments in front of a fully clothed Seokmin. He had only bothered to take off his suit jacket and shoes once the two of you had gotten to his place, but even as you stood in front of him feeling so bare you never felt uncomfortable. 

“If you think I care about all that mess, maybe you don’t know me as well as I thought you did Lee Seokmin.” Your words cause the man in front of you to scoff into a smile, one that pulls at his eyes and draws his cheeks a bit higher on his face. Moving your hands back up you start to undo Seokmin’s belt only for him to put his hands over yours and for him to walk you backwards towards his bed. 

Feeling the mattress behind your knees, you sit. your eyes lift to meet his loving gaze as Seokmin reaches one of his hands up to brush over your cheek, thumb tracing your lips slowly. “I know you, just like you know me. I was just saying what’s on my mind.” 

You knew why it was on his mind, mentally cursing your brother and his big mouth while also trying to just enjoy the fact that you were alone with Seokmin. In this apartment you usually didn’t have to worry about your family, about who you were, nothing but Seokmin. 

Moving his hand from yours to his pants, Seokmin lets you finish what you had started, his Adam’s apple moving dramatically as he swallows hard watching you closely. “And I’m just sayin’...why don’t you just make love to me and stop fussing over a bunch of bunk?” 

How could Seokmin say no to that? A grin forms on his lips, his pants falling to the floor at his feet. Seokmin takes another breath lifting his own hands to his shirt to make quick work of it while his eyes follow you moving back on to his bed. 

You were like a dream, some painting that had become real and Seokmin had to shake his head to keep himself moving. “Jesus, you make it hard not to just lose my mind. Ya know that?” Seokmin watches you smile, that pretty grin that drives him mad. You had a pull on him like no other person had in his entire life. 

Dropping his underwear to the floor, Seokmin puts one knee on the bed, reaching a hand out to run it over your leg. His nails scratch lightly over your thigh-highs causing you to bite at your lip until he reaches the end of your chemise. 

His fingers scratch back down your leg to unsnap the top of your stockings from the garter keeping them attached to your chemise. Seokmin’s eyes never leave yours, a warm look of intensity trapped behind them as you feel his fingers run over your leg where your stocking once was. 

“Unwrapping you might be my favorite part of the day…” Your cheeks burn at Seokmin’s words, he was bold with you in this room once the two of you felt comfortable. You enjoyed this side of him, how he would lean to kiss your thigh while his hands worked your other stocking from your leg only for him to move his lips to your now bare leg. 

“I just think you like teasing me Seokmin.” He smiles against your skin, his fingers running back up to your hips where he runs over the silk of your chemise on the way up to your shoulders to pull down the straps almost desperately. “Oh, God…careful. Don’t rip it, baby.” 

You say those words but Seokmin wonders if you mean it. He didn’t know how much your undergarments cost but though he had just said he didn’t have money to spare, he’d figure out a way to buy you more if it meant he could tear them off of you the way he wanted to. “Mm I’m not.” His lips brush over the top of your breast, his hands working the silk down your body as you arch your back then lift your hips allowing him to remove it from you completely. 

When Seokmin drops the final piece of clothing onto the floor he lets his eyes wander over your naked form. From your legs to your face, back down to your breasts, and finally between your legs. “Prettiest dame in the entire city…” 

Your eyes narrow, lifting your leg you push your foot against Seokmin’s chest. A laugh rises in his throat, his hands move to run over your calf to your ankle and back down as he stands in front of you, his cock standing hard and at attention for you. He only breaks eye contact with you long enough to lean and take a single rose from out of a vase next to his bed causing you to lift your brow and bite at your lip. 

“You do this almost every time.” 

“And every time…you like it.” You couldn’t argue with Seokmin when you feel the soft petals brush over your skin when he lightly drags the flower against your inner thigh up to your knee. A quiet moan falls from your lips, your hips lifting towards Seokmin and the flower only for him to pull it away running the rose along your shin, a smirk on his lips. 

“And you thought I didn’t know you. You got some moxie sayin that…” There was amusement in Seokmin’s voice that seemed to trail out into something more sensual when he heard you moan once again. Your own fingers were pressed against your breasts, Seokmin couldn’t take his eyes off of them even as he teased you with the flower letting it brush over your folds only to be taken away. 

You wanted him, you wanted more than the rose. As much as you loved the rose and his teasing you wanted him even more. “Seokmin…please. I love you baby, make love to me like I said.” 

That was his favorite thing to hear you say, that you loved him. It meant more than anything in the world to Seokmin. No amount of money could match the feeling of those words. The rose falls to the bed beside your head and Seokmin lays between your thighs, his lips finally finding yours once again. “Tell me again, just one more time, doll.”

You try to speak but Seokmin’s hand runs along your outer thigh to your knee, his cock brushing against your needy pussy causing you to moan his name instead. “Babe, you sound like a dream come true. Say it again…” 

Moving his hands between your legs, Seokmin slides his fingers between your folds relishing in how wet you were for him. The desperate whimpers falling off your lips were like the best song he had ever heard. Wrapping his hand around his length, Seokmin presses his tip against you and breathes softly against your lips muttering out a soft ‘please’ waiting for you to speak. 

“I love you Seokmin. I love you so much.” As soon as words leave your lips Seokmin slowly pushes into you, taking your breath away. A groan escapes his lips, feeling you clench around him instantly as he works kisses from your lips to your ear where he mutters “I love you too, more than anything in this life” against it. 

He was yours and you were his. That was all that mattered to either of you. At that moment no one’s approval was needed. If he had asked you to run away with him and elope you would have without question. 

Seokmin’s mouth pressed to your jaw, his hand sliding along the other side of your neck up into your hair. His fingers tugging some of the pins loose, letting it fall into his grasp. Seokmin smiled against your skin, his cock buried so deeply inside of you when you let out a low moan of his name feeling overwhelmed. 

Between your soft walls clenching around him, and the drag of his nails against the back of your scalp as he tugged at your hair, Seokmin was overloading your senses. He knew how to make you fall apart for him, every little button to push, every piece of skin to kiss in order to make you his all over again. 

Your nails scratch across his shoulder and Seokmin groans into the crook of your neck. His warm lips pause in their search for more skin so that he can whisper your name. The feeling of his own climax building causing his brows to furrow when he lifts his head to meet your eyes full of love and need. 

Leaning back, Seokmin wraps his arm around your waist pulling you up into his lap. The way he is reaching you so deeply now causes a breathy whine to slip from your lips before Seokmin claims them with his own muttering against them. “You’re my heart and my life, ya know that, doll?” 

Smiling on his lips, your arms wrapping around his neck, you roll down over Seokmin as he thrusts up into you granting yourself a deep groan from his chest. You were seeing stars, your orgasm so close you felt like you were going to burst. “You’re mine, Lee Seokmin.” 

The words seem to push Seokmin over the edge, his brows knitting together as if your words were the most profound speech he had ever heard. His thumbs press against your hips, fingers splay out along your lower back when Seokmin holds you in place before rolling over to his back letting you sit over him. 

He could feel the rose under his back, many flowers had met their end like this. Their petals soon covered the sheet under your bodies but neither of you seemed to care. You were too lost in one another to worry about the bed of roses you had always seemed to create. 

Seokmin’s head falls back, his throat exposed to you while your hands slide along his chest up to his shoulders. Your knees planted on the bed next to his hips you use what strength you have along with his hands lifting you to push yourself over the edge. 

You gasp out Seokmin’s name when your thighs begin to shake, your walls clenched tightly around him as you cum. His head lifts to the sounds of your pretty moans, Seokmin’s eyes never leave you, his hands holding you secure even as his hips meet yours hard and fast. “Oh, baby…so damn pretty. Shit…shit.” 

The words become breathy groans, your eyes open to fall on him getting your turn to watch him fall apart for you. There weren’t many things in the world as beautiful to you as watching Seokmin experience bliss.

His hands hold your hips to the point it's almost painful but you know he would kiss each mark later. Seokmin’s eyes close tightly, a smile forms on his parted lips before his hips stutter hard against yours and you feel his warm release begin to fill you. The feeling is almost enough to send you back over the edge to follow him again causing you to clench and for Seokmin to groan your name. 

“You’re gonna kill me…” Falling onto his chest and into his arms, you relish in the feeling of his long fingers running along your back up to your neck only to continue that path for several minutes. Neither of you are in any rush to move from one another even as he softens completely inside of you, the mixture of his and your cum dripping from you onto his thighs. 

“I’ll just kiss you back to life.” Seokmin laughs against your hair, his breath warm causing a shiver to run through you. You finally whine when he moves your leg and then his sliding from you causing you to feel empty. 

If he could be inside you for the rest of his life he would. He wished that those fancy scientists could figure that one out. Stop wasting their time on other bullshit and figure out the important things like how he could never have to be separated from you and out of this bed. 

“Don’t whine, doll. Gotta get cleaned up and get some food in you. You’ll fall asleep and wake up be sore at me if I don’t. Can’t stand when you are anything but happy.” Seokmin leans back to look at your face, running his finger along the bridge of your nose, a smile crossing his face when you can’t help but to smile at the gesture and his words. 

“Mm, fine but I want a Jack Rose.” You roll from Seokmin letting him slip from the bed, your eyes following him before they fall to the petals now covering the bed. A smirk forming on your lips you gather a few of them rubbing them between your fingers glancing back up to your boyfriend to find him watching you. 

You were a minx and a handful but Seokmin couldn’t help but know that he wanted you for the rest of his life. Watching you play with those rose petals melted Seokmin and made him want to fuck you all over again. Shaking his head, Seokmin grins, lifting his hand to rub the back of his neck at your request as his cock ached slightly just at the sight of you. “One Jack Rose for the dame comin’ right up.” 

Seokmin could never sleep very late into the day. It didn’t matter how long his nights were, even if they were longer with you. He had to have a little daylight in his life. Sitting on his small balcony, the doors open to let in the breeze and so that he could watch you sleeping, Seokmin let the cigarette rest between his fingers as he let the smoke out of his lungs on a slow breath. 

It was a beautiful evening, the sun was even with the horizon but as much as Seokmin wanted to admire that he couldn’t help but sneak peeks of you in his bed. You had started to stir, your fingers reaching out for him like you had so many times when you woke up at his apartment. He watched a frown form on your lips and felt bad instantly, but instead of going to you he decided to watch you for a bit longer, bringing his cigarette back to his lips. 

You knew Seokmin couldn’t be far, your frown didn’t last long when you realized where you were. Arching your back you smile, the sheet sliding down your body to your stomach, a happy sigh escaping your lips as you look around for any sign of him instead landing on the vase of roses. 

Wrapping the sheet around your chest you reach up to take one from its place. Bringing it to your nose takes in the sweet scent that makes you think of Seokmin and how much you love him. Seokmin leans on his elbow watching you run the rose along your shoulder and down your arm much like he had many times before. 

Swallowing hard, he brings the cigarette to his lips one last time to take a draw from it before tossing it away letting the smoke slip from his lips. Your lips were caught between your teeth, your face so bright, cheeks full. You looked so happy. Seokmin’s heart was pounding so hard as he thought to himself that ‘this is what love songs look like.’

Glancing up hearing the floor squeak, you can’t help but to smile seeing Seokmin standing in the balcony doorway, the curtains blowing in the wind, his hand in his pocket. He was still shirtless, pants unbuttoned, his hair only tamed by his fingers. Dropping the rose, you extend your hand for him and he wastes no time taking it, leaning down to press his lips to yours tenderly. 

Both of you knew you wouldn’t have long. Not as long as either of you would prefer before he would have to go to the club, but that wouldn’t stop you from melting into his kiss. That wouldn’t stop Seokmin’s hands from sliding into your hair holding you to him desperately as if you would fly away from him like a bird.

Smiling on his lips, you finally do pull away shaking your head when you hear him sigh. “I love you so much.” You feel his lips pull up, a small kiss brushing against your cheek as Seokmin nods, his hand sliding along the sheet to pull it open. He wanted to touch your skin and you weren’t going to deny him. 

“I love you too. Never wanna leave this bed, doll. Wanna be your husband.” He had said things like that before but it had been in moments of weakness and passion. Both of you had laughed it off knowing you would probably only ever be this. 

“Ask me then.” 

Seokmin’s lips were on your neck, his hand holding your side, his thumb gliding along your soft skin just under your breast when you spoke causing him to freeze. He had to have heard you wrong. Almost afraid to look up, Seokmin kisses your neck again before finally lifting his eyes to yours nervously. “What’d ya say?”

Your fingers rake through his hair, a smile on your lips though you were clearly nervous. “I said to ask me. You wanna be my husband, you gotta ask.” You weren’t the only one he’d have to ask or deal with when it came to this but god if he didn’t want this. 

“I–Y/N? Ya serious?” Seokmin watches you nod, no signs of this being a joke on your face. “What about Jihoon? You know I gotta ask him too. You heard him yesterday, no one in that club…me included is good enough for you. I don’t much disagree with him, you know what I said yesterday. As much as I love you, doll…I can’t give you anymore than what I got.” 

Your fingers tighten in Seokmin’s hair making him sigh out a slow breath. His eyes locked with yours. “I didn’t ask for excuses of why you don’t wanna marry me, Lee Seokmin. So if that’s all you’re gonna give me–” 

Seokmin doesn’t let you finish your sentence, panic rips through him at the idea of you denying him because of his own fear. His lips press to yours, his brow furrowed tightly, you feel how his hand clings at your skin as he mutters against your lips. “God no, I’m sorry. Marry me? Will ya? I’ll figure it out. I’ll rebuild the damn world to make it better if I gotta…just want you to marry me.” 

Your small laugh followed by a gentle kiss to his lips allows Seokmin to calm down. His heart is still beating so hard you can feel it against your body. Lifting your leg, you run your thigh along his hip, a smile on your lips as you nod leaning your head back so you can look at him once again. “You ain’t gotta rebuild nothin’. I love the man I got, just give me that and you got me. ‘Course I’ll marry you.” 

You knew he was right, soon he would have to talk to Jihoon, you both would. He would be furious, not only at Seokmin but mostly with you. Family didn’t lie, at least your family but you had been keeping a lot from him for a very long time, but that could wait. 

Seokmin sighs happily, his head lowering to rest against your breasts. You smile to the feeling of his warm breath against your skin as you close your eyes allowing yourself to push away any thoughts of Jihoon for now. That was a problem for later, this was now and you had your future husband in your arms. 

“I’m just sayin’ I gotta figure out a ring. Something that will look good enough to be on your finger.” 

You can’t help but smile, Seokmin lifting your hand to his lips to press them to the back of your knuckles. His eyes pull slightly at the corners when he meets your gaze, finding you giving him ‘that look’. 

“Somethin’ we can worry about later, babe. I got plenty of rings for now, ‘sides…we still gotta talk to Hoon.” Seokmin sighs beginning to speak, his head nodding as the two of you stand in his dressing room when the door closes causing you both to jump. 

“Yeah, you should’a talked to Hoon a while ago, it seems.” Seokmin’s eyes close to the sound of Jihoon’s voice. There was no way to know how long he had been outside of the door but that didn’t seem to matter anymore. 

Letting go of your hand, Seokmin clears his throat slowly turning to face your brother. “Jihoon, I –” He is cut short by Jihoon’s knuckles meeting his jaw with a loud crack causing you to let out a gasp. 

Seokmin’s first instinct was to fight back, his arms lifting to push Jihoon back, his own fist pulled back ready to make contact with someone he considered not only his boss but his friend. Tears were already on your cheeks as you pushed between them watching Seokmin lower his fist on his own accord. 

“I’m not going to fight you, damn it Jihoon!” Lifting his hand, Seokmin rubs his jaw wincing at the pain that radiates into his neck, turning away from both of you to curse under his breath before speaking louder. “I love her, and I ain’t sorry ‘bout that. So, if that means you gotta throw your fists at me some more, so be it. I’ll take it, I know I went about this all wrong.” 

You weren’t sure who to even give your attention to but when Seokmin groaned in pain, his hand moving over his jaw you couldn’t help but to move to him sliding his hand out of the way so you could look at his face. The skin was already red and you could tell there was some swelling, your brother had always been strong and wasn’t afraid to use his fists when it was needed. Glancing over to him, you watched Jihoon stand stoic, his eyes never leaving you or Seokmin even as your fingers tenderly tried to soothe the man. 

“I should have told you. I know that, alright? You didn’t have to punch him.” Jihoon doesn’t speak, instead he continues to watch as your attention is drawn back to the man in front of you. He watches how you look at him, how Seokmin’s fingers hold your wrist so carefully for a man so much bigger than you. He can see how much you two care about each other but that still didn’t make this okay. 

“Yeah I did. You know I did, and you should’a. We talked about this, Y/N…you know how I feel.” You start to speak but Jihoon lifts his hand moving closer to you and Seokmin, his eyes narrowed. “I think I get the chance to talk a bit, don’t you? I got a lotta catchin’ up to do.” 

Your cheeks were burning, you were angry and embarrassed but you knew he was right. You had hid so much from him. You owed him the chance to speak. Nodding you simply lean against Seokmin, his hand in yours while he also pays close attention to Jihoon trying to to piss him off anymore than he already has. 

“This thing, I dunno how long it’s been goin’ on, but if I had’ta guess it’s been a while.” Scoffing, Jihoon reaches up to pinch the bridge of his nose, the memories of all the times in the past year he had caught you in different scenarios beginning to make complete sense. “All under my damn nose. Maybe I’m the chump, huh?” 

You knew that was rhetorical but you still shrug making Jihoon suck in a breath and reach out his hand to push his index finger into the middle of your forehead playfully. “Don’t push it. You really love this sap?” 

Jihoon watches a smile spread across your lips that even he can’t help but to feel a bit warmer because of. Your eyes lifting to meet Seokmin’s gaze, who presses his lips together trying to hide his own smile. “Yeah, I love him. I wanna marry him, Hoon. He’s mine…don’t want him with nobody else.” 

Wrinkling his nose, Jihoon didn’t know if he liked the sound of all of that. You were better than this, all of this, but of course you had fallen right into the lap of this world. “And you always get what you want, kid.” Sighing loudly, Jihoon looks at Seokmin before narrowing his eyes almost angrily, his hands lifting expectedly. 

Seokmin glanced at you a bit confused before Jihoon sighed, reaching to smack the man’s head as if to knock some sense into him. “You gonna at least ask? Or I could just knock your head off, your choice Seokmin.” 

You couldn’t help but be slightly amused, your brother using similar words that you had when you had brought up Seokmin asking you to marry you earlier in the day. A pained laugh leaves Seokmin’s mouth lifting his head, his mouth opening and closing to stretch his swollen jaw. Nodding he finally meets Jihoon’s eyes, “Yeah, I’mma ask. I really wanna marry your sister, can I please get your blessing to go ahead with that? ‘Cause I may not have much Jihoon but I still plan on making her a very happy woman.” 

Jihoon could see you were already happy, and to him that was already a pretty big step. He had half a mind to say no, to put you both in your place but watching the way you looked at him with your big puppy dog eyes even he had to melt, an annoyed sigh slipping out of his mouth. “You got my blessing. Don’t keep things from me ever again.” 

Moving from Seokmin you cause your brother to groan out another annoyed sound when you wrap your arms around him hugging him tightly. Only Seokmin sees the smile pull at the other man’s lips when he puts an arm around you holding you closely. “Yeah, yeah. Like I said, you always get what you want, kid.” 

Seokmin grins at the scene leaning his head back against the wall, a wave of relief falling over him when you finally move away from Jihoon and back to him, sitting on his leg. He shakes his head feeling a bit shy knowing your brother is still in the room as your lips brush against yours but he doesn’t pull from the kiss, instead he laughs against your lips hearing Jihoon groan once more then the sound of the door shutting. 

“Told you that you were mine, Lee Seokmin.” 

You smirk on his lips, Seokmin’s fingers pushing against your side as he holds you to him. “That you did, and you’re mine, doll.” 

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[junkissed]

cranberry concoctions

member | bartender!joshua x f!reader genre | smut, a little angst & a little fluff, 1920s prohibition au, speakeasy au word count | 4.6k synopsis | you came to the infamous diamond glass looking for a good cocktail. instead, you found love in a hot bartender who also makes the best cosmos you’ve ever had. warnings | reader has a vagina and breasts, alcohol consumption (drink responsibly kids), reader smokes cigarettes (only 2), big dick joshua, the sex is not historically accurate sorry, actually most of this isn't historically accurate oops, praise, some degredation, multiple orgasms, name calling/petnames (slut, whore, darling, sweetheart, baby, my lady), kinda size kink maybe (he has big hands i'm sorry i can't not mention it), creampie notes | lowercase intended. this is part of rose's sax, settlements, & speakeasies collab! masterlist will be linked here. this fic has taken so long but it's finally finished!! thank you all for your patience!!

you slip into one of the many empty seats at the bar, placing your beaded evening bag on the counter and pulling out a cigarette with a sigh.

“what can i get you, darling?”

you glance up to see a man in a crisp white button-down, casually swiping a rag along a glass mug.

“what kinda cocktails you got?” you reply, pushing the cigarette between your teeth.

“anything you can dream up, honey.”

you pause, taking the cigarette out of your mouth to think. “how about… cranberry juice, with vodka, and triple sec? and a little lime?”

he grins. “coming right up.”

he grabs bottles from the long shelves behind him, setting them back on the counter in front of you before pulling a cocktail glass from below the bar. 

you slip the cigarette back into your mouth, your eyes following his movements as you pull your lighter out of your bag. you flip the arm up and flick the wheel, creating a tall flame that ignites with a pop, and you bring it carefully up to the end of the stick.

he pushes his sleeves up, revealing a small tattoo of what looks like a diamond on the inside of his wrist. your gaze catches it for a moment before your eyes flick up to find his looking back at you. 

with his sleeves rolled up, you don’t miss the way his muscles bulge against the tight cotton of his dress shirt. he tosses the container effortlessly from one hand to the other. the tendons in his wrist flex as he flips the shaker back and forth, a gleam in his eye and a confident grin on his face as the bottle twirls between his fingers. you take a long drag and give him a smile.

“cool tricks you got there,” you say, sitting back in your seat.

“i spent a year abroad at school in london,” he beams, holding the mixer high in the air and tilting it slightly to let the pink liquid fall into your glass. “picked up a thing or two.”

he tops off the drink with a lime swirl, sliding it gently across the counter. you hold your cigarette between two fingers as you lift the glass to your lips, taking a small sip.

“mm,” you nod, smiling. “ ‘s good.”

the dark room is quiet save for the light chatter from other patrons and the sultry piano music coming from the opposite side of the room. it’s late in the evening—well, by now, more like morning—and the speakeasy is mostly empty. you’re the only one at the bar, and you’re also the only one here alone, noticing the few couples scattered around the room in booths, drinking and laughing together.

you sigh and take another drag off your cigarette.

“you waitin’ on someone, sweetheart?” the bartender asks with a sly smile, tossing the rag behind the bar. “boyfriend, perhaps? or a coworker? can get their drink ready for them, if you’d like.”

you scoff, resting your hand on the counter above an ashtray. “do you often get women comin’ in here by themselves, mister?” 

he leans back against the bar and crosses his arms, but the playful gleam in his eyes tells you he isn’t offended. “not as often as i get pretty ladies like yourself in here,” he flirts. “and the name’s joshua. joshua hong.”

you stick out your hand to shake his, telling him your name. “so, joshua, what do you do? other than serve fancy drinks to pretty ladies, of course,” you say, taking another sip of your cocktail. damn, that is good. your friend wasn’t lying when she said that the diamond glass had the best drinks around.

“nothin’ much,” he shrugs. “i like to sing, sometimes. but not anything special. just a hobby.” he hands you a napkin, to wipe up the drops of your drink that splashed out onto the counter when you bumped it. “what do you do when you’re not ordering fancy drinks from sexy gentlemen?”

“thanks,” you say, squinting at him as you take the napkin, the name of the speakeasy embossed on it in pretty gold lettering. “and who ever said you were a gentleman?”

he smiles. “let me take you out to dinner and i’ll show you.”

your eyes widen, though you try to hide your reaction. “is that so, mister joshua?”

“mhm. and you never answered the question.”

you huff and raise an eyebrow at him. “how ‘bout i tell you over dinner instead?”

you take another big sip of your drink and look down at your watch to check the time. “shit,” you curse under your breath.

you look up and meet joshua’s eyes, standing patiently behind the bar. “i’ve got work in the morning– er, in a coupl’a hours,” you offer in way of explanation. “gotta run.”

“i see,” he nods, his features falling into a faux-serious expression. “the mysterious work.”

“better hold me to that dinner if you wanna find out,” you reply with a laugh as you pull on your coat. 

he grins. “oh, i will, darling.”

you pull your bag off the counter and go to take out some bills, but a large hand falls on your wrist and you freeze.

“on the house,” he says with a grin, letting go of your hand and sliding your empty glass across the counter. “come find me if you ever want some company, and we can set up that dinner, hm?”

you nod at him, unable to hide the hint of a smile growing on your face. “i’ll do that.”

the next time you visit the diamond glass, the place is packed.

it’s earlier in the evening this time, so you aren’t too surprised, but you didn’t think there were this many people who’d break the law to come here in search of a little fun. but, then again, isn’t that why you’re here too? a little fun, a little drinking, and hopefully a little more flirting with joshua, if you can manage to find him again.

the bar’s crowded, and you can barely manage to find a place to slip in between all the occupied stools. you crane your neck to look around, searching to see who the bartender working tonight is. this time there’s not one but two men in stiff white uniforms, handing out bottles of beer and pouring wine for the patrons at the other end of the bar. you can’t see either of their faces, so you lean against the counter and pull out a cigarette while you wait.

you’re leaning down putting your lighter away when you hear a familiar voice call your name.

“didn’t think i’d see you back here so soon,” joshua says when you look up, meeting his eyes.

“came to collect on my free dinner, of course,” you reply with what you hope is a teasing smile.

he chuckles. “well, i hate to break your heart, darling, but i’m a little busy at the moment. how ‘bout i get you a drink instead?”

“fine by me.”

“same as before?” he asks, already reaching for a glass.

you pause to put your cigarette to your lips. “sure, why not. show me more of those gentleman bartender skills you like to show off.”

he starts pouring liquor into the shaker as he continues to talk. “i’m sure i’ve got other skills you’d like a lot better than my drink mixing, sweetheart. maybe i’ll show you after that dinner we keep talkin’ about.”

you suck in a sharp gasp of air, accidentally inhaling a mouthful of smoke and sending you into a coughing fit. you grab a napkin to cover your mouth with as you struggle to regain your composure, feeling your cheeks grow hotter by the second.

joshua just smiles, clearly amused by your reaction as he slides you your finished drink. “well, don’t lose your cool now, miss, i haven’t even done anything fancy yet. gotta give me a chance to wow you like a gentleman.”

you clear your throat, hoping your voice sounds at least a little levelheaded. “how very courteous of you, mister joshua. i–”

you’re definitely about to come up with the wittiest of comebacks, is what you tell yourself before you’re interrupted by a group of flapper girls, talking loudly as they walk up to the bar.

“and that’s when i told him, ‘if you don’t stop necking on with that sob sister from the newspaper’s, we’re through!’ he really thought i wouldn’t see through that baloney, screwing that reporter and then coming home to me as if he could have us both!”

the group bursts out laughing, and joshua looks over at them, then looks back at you. “mind if i go get these ladies seated, darling? then we can finish our conversation.”

you stutter out a “sure” and he gives you a wink as he walks away. even over the ruckus of the speakeasy, you can still hear him greet the girls, and it makes you irritated for reasons you can’t explain.

“well hi there, girls! how’s the partying goin’ for you all on this fine evening, and how can i make it better?”

the chorus of flirty, drawn out “hello”’s from the group makes your stomach churn, though you have no reason to care. it’s this man’s job to flirt with customers to make an extra buck and keep this joint running. to him, you’re probably just another broad with money to throw away on booze.

you turn around to see one of the drunker girls hanging on joshua’s arm, laughing at something he’s said like he’s the funniest man on the planet. the sight is enough to push you over the edge, and you down your drink in a huff, slipping a bill under the empty glass as you walk out of the speakeasy, pretending your feelings aren’t hurt.

you wake up the next morning feeling guilty about the night before. sure, you probably did overreact, but it had been a long day at work, getting badgered by your boss for no reason other than the fact that he didn’t like having women employees in his office.

and joshua seemed like a nice man, and even if he was just trying to earn some tips, at least he was friendly. 

so that night, you put on your finest dress and head back to the diamond glass, hoping for the chance to talk to him again.

but as you walk across the bar, you see that there’s only one bartender at the counter, and it’s not joshua. he looks vaguely familiar, so you figure he must’ve been the other bartender working with him the other night.

“hey,” you call out to him as you sit down, and he turns to face you, black hair falling into his eyes. 

“how can i help you, miss?”

“what’s your name?” you ask him straight away, and he furrows his brows.

“it’s vernon, miss, but i don’t see—”

“you work with a fella named joshua?”

vernon rests his hands on the counter, leaning towards you. “i do indeed, but he ain’t here right now. it’s his day off.”

you frown. well. that messes with your plans.

“you gotta pen?” you ask, grabbing a napkin from the stack.

he pulls a pen from his breast pocket and twists it open, handing it to you. you scribble something quickly on the napkin, then cap the pen and hand it back to him.

you fold up the napkin and give it to vernon. “when you see him again, can you give this to him for me? it’s real important, make sure he gets it.”

he looks confused, but he shoves the pen and napkin into his pocket. “i’ll make sure it does.”

you nod soberly and stand up from the stool.

“wait– d’you want anything to drink, miss?”

you shake your head, shouldering your purse. “no. that’s all i came for.”

and with that you walk back out the door, frustrated but at least a little more hopeful.

joshua, sorry for taking off last night. phone me and we can do that dinner if you’d still like. #: SE-0317

the wait for joshua’s phone call is unbearable, so instead of pacing by the telephone you try to busy yourself with something more productive: getting work done for your hard-boiled boss. 

but even the pressure of his deadlines is enough to take your mind off what you’ve done. in fact, you don’t even know for sure if he’s single. for all you know you could be trying to screw a married man (though you didn’t notice a ring on his finger, but who can ever know for sure these days?)

the worst part is, you don’t even know for sure if he’s going to phone you, or if he even got your message. vernon seemed like a trustworthy guy, but maybe he and his coworkers get people like this all the time. maybe they’re having to fight off hordes of drunk, horny women with a stick. you scoff, thinking back to the last time you were at the speakeasy. that was certainly the case the other night with the flappers.

in all honesty, joshua was probably just being friendly, trying to make a repeat customer out of you. which he was successful in, of course; he had you hook, line, and sinker, and you didn’t even care. of course his offer to wine and dine you wasn’t genuine: it was a line, one he’d probably used on dozens of people, and you had fallen for it.

you’re so far deep in your own thoughts, you almost miss the sound of the telephone ringing in the other room; until you realize there’s no one else that would be calling you at this hour in the evening.

in a panic you scramble out of your chair, sprinting to the kitchen to grab the call.

“hello?” you answer, a little breathless but still holding onto hope.

“hi, sweetheart. thought you weren’t gonna pick up.”

you breathe out a sigh of relief at the man on the other end. maybe he really was sincere about everything after all, though you still don’t truly believe it.

“are you finally gonna take me out like you keep saying, or are you just tryin’ to get me to buy more drinks?” you ask, hoping he doesn’t hear the shake of nerves in your voice.

“‘course i am, baby. i don’t just go around offering dinner to every woman i meet at work, y’know.”

your cheeks warm, and you hold the receiver closer to your ear with a smile. “flattery will get you nowhere, joshua hong, but i won’t deny it, i like to hear it.”

he laughs, and it’s a beautiful sound, one that you find yourself wishing you could hear in person.

“there’s a new restaurant on the main drag that i’ve heard’s real fancy,” he starts. “been meaning to try it, so i might as well take my pretty lady along with me, too, hm?”

you chuckle, leaning against the doorframe and twirling the phone cord between your fingers. "your pretty lady, huh?"

"wouldn't say it 'f it wasn't true. you've got me wrapped around your little finger, miss," he says, and you have to bite the back of your hand to stop yourself from letting out an embarrassing noise in response.

he clears his throat, interrupting the silence on the line. “anyway, if you'd like, the speakeasy’s closed tonight for the holiday… could bring you back behind the bar after our dinner, show you a thing or two. although i got plenty of other nice things i could show you besides the drinks.”

"sounds like you got a grand evenin' planned, joshua," you say finally, swallowing your excitement.

"only for you, doll," he says, and even over the shaky static of the call you can hear the grin in his voice. "can i pick you up at 6 o'clock? just had my car waxed too; only the best for my lady."

"six is nice," you reply, still smiling.

"i'll see you then, sweetheart," he says, and the line goes silent as he ends the call. 

exhaling a shaky breath, you put the receiver back on the hook and check the time on the clock across the room. better go fix your makeup before he gets here.

at 6 o'clock sharp joshua’s car rolls up in front of your apartment, freshly waxed and polished just like he'd said. 

the drive to the new restaurant isn't far, but it feels like it stretches on for hours as you and joshua talk about anything and everything.

as for dinner, it by far isn't the best meal you've ever had, but your date's company more than makes up for the mediocre food.

as promised, after the dinner joshua drives you over to the speakeasy, using his key to open the back entrance where customers aren't allowed and lets you inside. it's an odd feeling, being alone in the space that's normally bustling with activity.

you slide into a seat at the counter as joshua grins, walking to the opposite side to stand behind the bar.

"sorry, miss, we're closed today," he says with a playful grin. "you'll have to come back tomorrow."

you giggle, playing along. "oh, but please, sir, can't you spare just a little glass of wine for me?"

the restaurants aren't allowed to serve alcohol, but even without it you feel tipsy in joshua’s presence, high on the excitement of being with him with nobody else around.

he places his hands on the counter and leans forward, his gaze meeting yours. "hmm, i could… but i think i have something better i could give you instead."

"better than wine?" you ask, pretending to be shocked. although if you've been reading this right like you think you've been, you have a feeling you know what he might be offering.

"mhm," he says, and he lifts a finger to beckon you closer.

you grin and lean forward to meet him across the counter, his lips locking with yours, and the feeling is heavenly. almost instantly you feel his hands behind your head, pulling you closer as he deepens the kiss. you tell yourself to fight the urge to moan, but when his lips part just enough to let his tongue slide into your mouth, all your inhibitions go out the stained-glass speakeasy windows and you decide, screw it, whatever happens, happens; not when you're having the most fun you've had in a long time and not when his touch feels this good.

he breaks away for just a second and to your surprise, jumps onto the bar and slides across, and then his hands are back on your body and he's kissing you more fervently than before.

"say the word and i'll stop, sweetheart," he moans, he really moans, but the thought of stopping doesn't even cross your mind as you pull him closer and lift your leg to wrap it behind his thigh.

before you know it, your back is against the counter and joshua is hovering over you. his large hands gently knead your breasts over the fabric of your dress and his mouth is still tangled with yours as you begin to feel heat pooling in your stomach.

"god, you drive me crazy," he breathes when your hands find his body and start to slide lower. you look up at him, one hand hovering carefully over the uncomfortably large bulge in his pants.

"please, joshua?" you ask softly, squeezing lightly around him and drawing another whine out of his gorgeous lips.

the second you hear his throaty "yes", your fingers are scrambling to undo his belt buckle and shoving his slacks down to his knees. his fingers are equally rushed, sliding over your back and quickly undoing the buttons holding up the fabric that hides your beautiful skin from his sight.

your breath hitches as he carefully slips the dress off your shoulders, watching as his eyes wander over you. he meets your eyes, fingers toying with the hem of your panties, and you nod, giving him permission.

“you’re even prettier than i imagined,” he whispers. his hands trail down your chest, mapping out every inch of your naked body.

his words barely even register, because you’re too busy staring at his hard cock. you figured he would be beautiful, but nothing you could’ve dreamed up in your wildest dreams would have even come close to what’s in front of you now. 

you reach out and take his cock in your hand, holding him delicately and observing the way his eyes flutter shut. he lets out a soft sigh at your touch, and his hands settle at your waist for a moment before he reaches to grab your hand. 

it doesn’t escape you how tiny your hand looks in comparison to his; while your fingers could barely reach all the way around his cock, his hand easily covers the space. the sight is almost hypnotizing. you carefully let go, bringing your hand up to the counter to brace yourself.

he leans down to capture your lips in another kiss, and you moan as you feel the head of his cock begin to brush through your soaking folds. he breaks away, and you look up into his dark eyes, waiting.

“been stuck on you since the first time i saw you, sweetheart,” he groans, and you feel the heat in your core grow hotter at his admission, knowing he’s been wanting this just as much as you have.

he curses under his breath, and finally he starts to fill you up. the stretch is perfect as he rocks his hips slowly back and forth, pushing into you a little more with each movement. his brows knit together in concentration, and his lips firmly press into a thin line as his gaze zeroes in on your pussy.

you look down where he’s watching, and you also can’t help but fixate on the sight of his girthy cock inside you. he’s not even nearly halfway inside you yet, but the feeling is already making you dizzy with pleasure. seeing him stretching you open, you feel the knot in your stomach begin to tighten almost instantly.

with his sleeves rolled up, you can clearly see the definition in his muscles, flexing as his hands slide across your half-clothed figure. his thick fingers hook around the straps of your bra, tugging them further down your chest to expose your breasts. he pushes his thumb into your mouth, and immediately you begin to suck on it.

he laughs, pulling his thumb out of your mouth and smearing your own spit across your nipple. “such a whore. should’ve known you would like that, my pretty slut.”

you let out a moan at his words, unintentionally clenching around him as he continues to push into you. you feel his grip on your thighs tighten, enough that you know it’ll leave bruises.

your first orgasm hits you out of nowhere when joshua bottoms out in you. the feeling of his cock sitting snugly inside of you, filling you up to the brim and then some, is enough to send you over the edge without warning. joshua curses, your cunt squeezing around his cock as you ride through your high.

“fuck, just like that, baby,” he grunts through gritted teeth, his other hand snaking down to rub at your clit. “cum all over my cock like my good girl.”

when you recover enough to breathe again, you look up to find joshua staring down at you, eyes blown wide with lust. his fingers are still on your clit, your only source of stimulation since he had stopped moving his hips once he was fully inside you.

he meets your eyes and begins to drag his cock out of you, just barely pressing an inch or two into you with slow, meticulous thrusts.

he gradually begins to build up speed, his cock perfectly hitting every sensitive part inside of you until you can’t think straight. you let your eyes close, mouth falling open in pleasure at his pace.

“god, you look so pretty when you cum,” joshua growls, and it feels like you stop breathing altogether as another orgasm slams into you, his words drawing your high out of you like a command.

this time he doesn’t give you a moment to recover, instead pulling nearly all the way out before pushing into you with so much force, you can feel him moving you back and forth across the counter with each thrust, the smooth oak grain growing sticky with sweat with each sharp snap of his hips.

already sensitive from two powerful orgasms, you cry out his name, dragging your nails along his biceps placed on either side of your face as he holds onto the counter. his thrusts get rougher, plunging into you over and over again and already beginning to build you up for another.

“sh-shua, please,” you gasp, reaching out to grab onto his shoulders for support.

the drag of his cock against your walls feels heavenly, quickly sending you hurtling into yet another orgasm that has your legs trembling around his waist. the waves of pleasure seem almost never-ending as his hips jerk into you sporadically, until finally he throws his head back and buries himself as deep as he can go inside of you, his pelvis flush against your cunt. his cock pulses inside you as his orgasm hits, feeling each spurt of cum fill you up, a satisfying feeling like you can’t even fathom.

breathing hard, you manage to drag your eyes away from where the two of you connect to glance up at his face, and the sight is one you’ll never forget: his thick eyebrows knitted tightly together and his nose scrunched up, his beautiful lips parted in a breathy, high-pitched whine.

the bar is quiet, but your ears are ringing and your head is spinning from everything that just happened. joshua stands over you, his cock still nestled in you as he breathes in and out shallowly, trying to catch his breath. you stay still, too exhausted to move until you feel his cum start to drip down your leg and you force yourself to sit up.

but his arms wrap around you, holding you tightly and you stop. you feel so secure, so grounded, despite your shaky legs dangling off the edge of the counter.

he sighs and begins pressing kisses along your neck, though this time they’re softer and gentler, instead of frantic and heated.

he kisses you once more on the cheek, then walks around to the other side of the bar to grab a towel.

“sorry about the mess,” you say shyly, reaching down to pick up your dress off of one of the barstools it had landed on. 

he comes back around, towel in hand, and kisses you again. “don’t be,” he grins, and he squats down so that he’s eye-level with your cunt, his cum still leaking out of you. you resist the urge to snap your legs closed as he gently wipes the damp towel over your skin, a little embarrassed despite him being inside you no more than a couple of minutes ago.

once he’s satisfied he lifts you up off the counter, setting you gently on the floor and helping you into your dress before putting his own clothes back on.

you slide onto a stool, watching him fondly as he walks back around to the other side of the bar and picks up another towel to wipe off the counter with.

“so,” he says finally, rolling up his sleeves with a cocky smile that makes your stomach do backflips. “what can i make you, darling?”

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[himbocoups]

˗ˋˏ Between Glitz and Glamour ˎˊ˗ | 18+ Only

synopsis: love collects like the number of pearls on a string – scintillant under the shining spotlight, two ends clasped together to make one. however, one unforeseen tug can scatter the pearls, making them roll, bounce, and clack against the illegally sticky floors of the speakeasy. but one can’t help but chase the jewels, especially the one carved in the shape of lee jihoon.

member: lee jihoon

genre: angst, drama, romance, 1920s period piece | smut

tags: cursing, drunk characters, emotional constipation, food/drinks, jealousy, opposites attract, smoking, s2l // sax, settlements, and speakeasies | blindfold play, fingering, lap dances, mirror sex, oral, overstim, pet names (baby, daddy, whore...), pnv, pussy slapping, squirting...

wc: 15k

beta reader reviews: "OKAY DADDY I'M NOT GOING TO FIGHT YOU" - @multi-kpop-fanfics // "GODDDD I can't do this" - @heartkyeom // "HAHAHHAHAA FUCK IM IN TROUBLE" - @playmetheclassics

a/n: hihi you may see some recognizable characters sprinkled throughout the fic (hint @onlymingyus's duo). and giving a hugehugehuge thank you to my beta readers. this is a big piece I've been writing for months so thank you so much <33 chapters are separated and named by seasons for easy navigation - nu ♡

himbocoups's masterlist

one - spring

Sleek oiled hair with expensive Brilliantine and the tiny stray strand that falls from the slick that brushes against his forehead, the man’s Adam’s apple bobs and lowers as the man swallows another sip of his Manhattan. An amber drop seeps from his lips, seesawing on the rim of the stemmed cocktail glass he holds steady against his lips before racing downwards against the outside of the glass. He sets his drink on the sticky Oak tabletop before the drop of liquid can collect on his finger, never once breaking eye contact with his spoil for the night.

Dark brown eyes quickly flick from the woman’s eyes to his pant leg that rests against her inner heel, brushing against the open skin like a curtain as she unconsciously shifts her balance to her tiny kitten heel. She traces a manicured finger over his exposed collarbone, letting her hand glide downwards until it rests on his chest. Dorothy, she reminds him of her name, like the one from the novel. But he hasn’t read a novel since grade school, let alone hold one in his hand. He deceivingly nods like he understands her reference. Truthfully, he can’t even hear her over the live band and tonight’s drunk rowdy crowd in his speakeasy.

The Diamond Glass – an ironic name given the speakeasy’s connotations. Hidden in plain sight in the heart of the city, the speakeasy isn’t as transparent as the name suggests. And Lee Jihoon – as cunning as his cat-like features – operates his mom and pop grocery store front during the day and his speakeasy during the night, strictly and smoothly running his businesses like the automated belts in Ford’s motor car factories. A mastermind with too much money to blow and a throttle of criminal cohorts he calls his family, the man can’t help but let loose once in a while, especially when it comes to taking someone new home every so often.

And Dorothy, beautiful feathered brooch-wearing Dorothy with big brown eyes and arched eyebrows, is someone who Jihoon is willing to take home…or even in the kitchen pantry if he kicks the cooks out. But a disapproving look from his younger sister from across the bar is enough to give him second thoughts about taking her old classmate from high school home or anywhere, really. He clears his throat, two rough coughs with his hand brought up to his mouth, and peers at the woman in front of him. She doesn’t seem phased by the little break in their interaction and moves in to leave him a tiny product-stained peck along his jawline.

This action alone is enough to have him immediately forget about his sister’s disapproving looks and pull the lady into him by her waist, a tiny oop emitting from her matte-colored lips.

“Darling,” The word rolls smoothly off the tip of his tongue, landing softly against her cheek.

Before he can make another move on Dorothy, he feels a soft tap against the outside of his heel. And before he can even make the decision to ignore the tap, he hears the ever-so-familiar sound of shattering glass against his beloved speakeasy floors from across the room. The figure of a darting bouncer toward the center of the crowd and the manager, Seungcheol, following closely behind is enough for Jihoon to excuse himself from the self-proclaimed novel character Dorothy to attend to a crowd transforming into the shape of a circle.

He sees her for the first time in his life with her dirtied flimsy party dress, and the skirt under her knees, as she reaches around blindly for something probably important to her. There are a few clutched in her right hand, opalescent pearls, probably fake; her other hand is limp, tucked against her waist as if she doesn’t want anybody to notice her injury. He thinks if he turns his head back to Dorothy, he would be able to become ignorant of the fact that there’s shattered glass near the back of her heels, the same glass that he brought in the other day.

An entire five cents gone, just like that. He is forced to think, adding a note to his mental managerial book.

Mingyu probably kicked the man out, he hears a patron say to another person who asked. The man tried absinthe for the first time. Now he’s absent before the pianist can perform his set. Poor lady…poor lonely lady with her fine pearls. Heard that was the only drink she was clutching onto the whole night before the man knocked her over. Never seen her around before.

“Hey.” Seungcheol taps his boss’s shoulder, the other hand pinching the bridge of his nose in an act of annoyance. “Take her to get patched up.”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” he scowls. “Manage your patrons better.”

Still, he shuffles over to his customer and lifts her up by the waist, heaving her onto the nearest bar counter, probably separating two people from their conversation. He doesn’t care if they complain, for all he cares, they already paid for their drinks.

“You didn’t have to set me on the counter,” she says while fiddling with the fabric of her dress, her eyes never looking down to meet his. “Just a scratch on my hand, that’s all.”

Someone passes him a bag of ice wrapped in a dishcloth. The bartender probably, she remembers. She remembered him complaining in passing about how it gets so rowdy in this speakeasy, yet they can never find the time to restock their simplest first aid supplies. Something about how the big boss is stingy, but he can’t complain because he’s getting paid well.

The palm which holds her injured hand is warm and a little rough around the tiny calluses, a stark contrast to the cold ice which hits her outer hand and the soft and regularly washed dishcloth which creates a nice barrier to stop the coldness from stinging.

“The fabric isn’t flimsy, you know. It just looks that way because of how I draped it.” The comment comes out of her mouth compulsively, as if she needed to somehow bring up the topic in case he was staying silent because he was silently judging her getup. She can’t read him well, not under the lights and not even when his eyes flick to every other woman except for her. “I can ice it myself.”

“Nonsense.” He is curt with his words. “This shouldn’t have happened to you. My workers should’ve been better at watching out for rowdy customers. Please accept my apology on their behalf. Write down your bank account number, and I’ll pay for your dry-cleaning and for a new string of pearls.”

She thinks that maybe he isn’t as stingy as Joshua says or alternatively, maybe he can say those things simply because he’s wealthy. Either way, Lee Jihoon is just as handsome as the crowd says. It would be such a loss if she didn’t use this chance to strike up a conversation with him. For all that matters, he would be onto the next gal the moment he’s finished taking care of her.  

“Take me on a date,” she squeaks, heart pounding like footsteps on the pavement. “The pearls are fake, an-and I can clean the dress myself.”

“I don’t do dates, princess.”

“Then a non-date? With me.” This time, there is a bit more confidence in her tone. But it isn’t enough to shake him.

“Look.” He sighs and drops the melting ice bag onto the counter near her thigh. “You look like you’ve never stepped into a speakeasy before. You probably came here on a dare with one of your girlfriends from grade school, talking about how you need to step out of your comfort zone a little more and is now all balled up. I’m a criminal – dames like you should never be stuck on my bunch.”

“Then I’m a criminal for coming here voluntarily. Aren’t I?”

two - summer

Standing ovation.

He didn’t even know that a standing ovation could happen at a community theatre performance, but here he is, standing on the risers after the final Summer show, waiting for the second lead to finish talking to an important-looking man in fine business attire.

In his arms is a beautiful assembly of white and purple, a small handwritten card from the heart tucked in the middle of it all. This is the first time he attended a musical, and this is the first time he willingly attended anything for anybody outside of his family. Now he’s worried his sweaty palms left damp marks against the brown paper packaging of the bouquet he shopped for with his sister last night.

A couple of children’s costumes push against his backside while they run down the risers, but he doesn’t care. His eyes are trained on her – a light brown wig done in a giant updo with a giant white feathered attachment stuck at the very top and rosy floral clips trailing down the sides. Her stage makeup sparkles under the hot stage lights, a scintillant glow across the apples of her cheeks. She quickly maneuvers her flowers to one arm so she can reach her free hand out to receive the man’s business card. She thanks him as he walks away, leaving her in the middle of the stage, giggly and filled with glee. With brilliant white teeth and lips stretched thin, she practically bounces in her spot until she pauses for a minute, turning around to look for something or someone so important that she would rather share her happiness with them.

Maybe there is a part of him that wants to call out for her, for her to notice him then, and for her to notice him when he was in the crowd. He wants to convince himself that it shouldn’t be him who she’s looking for. But it’s not like Lee Jihoon would ever admit his feelings, not even months after spending time now and then with the tailoress who crawled on the dirty and sticky speakeasy floor to pick up her fake pearls.

God, her and her pearls, he thinks. There was no way he could ever end up with someone like her, practically floating around with her head in the clouds, dreaming about the day she would become a star. Too trusting of others, too gullible, too into him – he wonders why he would even allow himself to be cajoled into attending a stupid production by someone as idiosyncratic as her.

The tight grip around the metal rail loosens when she makes eye contact with him, eyes widening like her smile. And as vague as it sounds, it makes him feel lighter. Better even.

Noticing her friends crowd around her, he mouths “hallway” to her and slips into the darkness. He thinks it’s in his best interest if he doesn’t check to see if her eyes stayed trained on him when he left his place on the risers.

It’s not long until someone grabs his wrist guiding him along the hallway, past the green room, past the rest of the cast. Left behind in her wake is a trail of African Orange Flowers, Amalfi Lemon and Orange, and the powdery floral scent of the powder she uses to refresh her clothes. Coty’s Cyphre, the one she bought back in ’17 – her only perfume that she uses for special events. The liquid in the whimsical rectangular glass bottle that sits on top of her dresser is starting to turn a light amber hue, but she insists on saving each drop. It’s most condensed on the hand pulling his wrist, the same hand that slips downwards, interlocking both hands in a magnetic pull.

Finally seeing her up close, her big doe eyes staring at him and the meticulously swept-on stage makeup, he forgets he has flowers for her in his hands. He snaps out of his trance when he hears the soft muted crinkling of the brown paper packaging being removed from his arms. She stands in front of him in her empty dressing room, holding the bouquet like a newborn, and lowering her head to smell the flowers – eyes closed to breathe in the sweet floral scent deeply with a sigh.

“I uhh.” He quickly brings his right fist up to his mouth and clears his throat. “I liked the performance. It was nice.” He can’t look her in the eye – doesn’t even know what to say especially now that her dress’s strap slipped off her shoulder, bringing her collarbone into view. She must think he’s the daftest person in the world, and he almost crumbles at the thought of her seeing him through his hubris.

“What about me?” She blinks. Dropping her flowers on the counter where the wood meets a long wall of mirrors, she tests the waters by slowly crossing his threshold. One buttermilk-colored gloved hand glazes his tweed vest, but of course, she can never elicit a reaction from him. “What did you think about me?” She asks him, palm now fully against his vest.

If it were physically possible, Jihoon stutters without muttering a word – caught red-handed by the woman in front of him. Truth be told, he wasn’t really paying attention to the musical. Falling asleep during the last half of the first act and waking up when the orchestra started the entr’acte, he knew he should’ve stayed home after an especially rowdy night at the Diamond Glass. And he would have if it weren’t for his sister, who quite literally dragged him out of bed and kicked him to the curb.

I really don’t get why she likes you even though you’ve been dragging her along for around two months. You don’t even seem that interested in her, she told her older brother. So either end the situationship or make it a relationship. But after the musical! So don’t you dare come back until tomorrow morning…Seokmin’s coming over. 

But what does he think about her? What does he think about the woman in the bouncy polka-dot dress whose entire being is too utterly obsessed with him, the one who only talks about her dreams while floating on her imaginary clouds, the one who buys cheap costume jewelry whenever she can hoping one day she would trade her precious pearl necklace for a new one? The one whose lips he has to cover while in bed because her vocal cords aren’t the only things that he’s plugging.

Simply put, he thinks her to be annoying. They have almost nothing in common. He cannot stand the fact that she’s so dizzyingly ditzy that she cannot go a day without dreaming or talking about the glitz and glamour of her potential stardom, living in a constant state of hypotheticals. She somehow latched onto his side like a cat’s claw in a woolen sweater or a parasite who is too cheerful and optimistic even on bad days. Yet, despite everything, he doesn’t mind having her by his side.

“Come on Hoonie,” she whines. “Tell me.”

God, how he hates that nickname. Usually, he would tell her off for using that nickname but she’s a couple of centimeters away from completely pressing herself against his frontside, and the only thing he can concentrate on is definitely not her performance.

But it doesn’t matter anyway. While a celebration happens on the main stage, in an empty dressing room, two people try to devour each other like it is the last time they would ever meet. A few fallen stray petals crumple under the sole of his shoe as he rubs himself between her closed legs. Groaning as he feels her squeeze him between her bare thighs, sliding with ease as her warm juices lubricate his naked organ, he covers her mouth from behind as he slowly pushes himself into her.

And everything feels warm, hot – clothed bodies pressed against each other, the row of bright lights above the wall of vanity mirrors, her breath as she moans into his large palm over her mouth, and her spongy inside that often invites him in secret. The habitually voluble woman is reduced to nothing under his touch and tries to refrain from audibly moaning, knowing that she would be punished if she were loud.

So she finds something exciting in whimpering into the open air, feeling him twitch inside of her with every mewl that enters his ear as he slowly fucks himself into her. The more high-pitched she gets, the more it arouses him to the point where he completely loses his nonchalant front. The hand which once covered her mouth is now tilting her chin upwards as his other hand grabs her by her waist. And he watches through the mirror how her eyes roll upward as he ruts himself into her, smirking at how she melts against his chest, aching and begging him for more.

That isn’t to say that maybe the thought of how good the reflection of the two of them together looks crossed his mind once or twice. But he pushes the thought aside like the rest of his feelings for her and instead pushes deeper into her, moaning when he feels her convulse around him.

“Ah fuck babe,” she gasps while her knees bend towards each other, palms pressed against the mirror as she recovers from her high.

“Watch your language,” he instinctively mumbles, pushing her forward so that her elbows rest on the vanity. He lifts the hem of her skirt above her ass, bunching the costume fabric in his hand and laying it on top of her back. Her use of his pet name completely slips his mind as he sighs while slipping back inside of her, feeling the tight cushiony cunt squeeze around his cock. Any tighter he might have to fuck her on the floor to stop losing feeling in his legs.

The louder the party is downstairs, the more confident she is in moaning out loud. And the sounds coming from her mouth fuels his lust. His cock feels hard as hell, and he is so close to finishing. A trail of profanities rains from his mouth, praising her, commanding her, and telling her how he feels at this moment. And she smiles that lazy smile reflected in the mirror as she hiccups while the tip of his organ threatens to penetrate more than just her walls.

“Be mine, yeah?” She manages to ask him while he pulls her head back, her fake pearl necklace coming into view.

“You’re asking? Fuck. Okay fu-Jesus. Bend over. M-more for me, baby. More.”

With one easy yank, the brown wig slides off her head and collects in his fist. He thinks nothing of it and drops it on the floor next to a pile of fallen audition flyers, continuing to ram into her from behind, never missing a beat. Jostled around with each hard thrust, each remaining bobby pin that once held her wig in place fall to the floor one after the other.

Plink. Puh-link. Plink. 

The answer to her original question is still left unanswered.

three - summer

“So, when is your girlfriend coming?”

Lee Jihoon looks up from the several small plates of food in front of him to see his younger sister cocking an eyebrow at him before she looks at the spread of food he prepares. Quick to notice the slight pout of her lips and the soft twitch of her eyebrows, he knows a light-hearted complaint is about to come out of her mouth.

“It’s a double date, but you’re only serving us canapés. What do you want me to do? Starve?” She places a hand on her hip in disbelief.

“I never said it was a double date,” he corrects her while swatting one of her hands away from the deviled eggs, never batting an eye. “I only said we are going to taste test new finger foods for the speakeasy.”

“And the girlfriend?” She sneaks a bruschetta from one of the plates when he looks away, dumping the pile of finely diced tomatoes tossed with balsamic vinegar and spices into her mouth before following it with the piece of soggy-crunchy bread she holds. “W- where is sphe?” She asks him with her mouth full, swiping the edge of her mouth with the side of her pointer finger.

“Finishing an audition so she’ll be a bit late,” his tone is as monotonous as ever. He doesn’t pay her any mind, not when he’s stressing over minuscule plates of finger food.

It is a particularly slow Thursday night. The grocery store’s customers start to dwindle as Seokmin helps the remaining customers checkout their items before he can close the shop to restock and sneak his boss’s girlfriend into the speakeasy. And the younger sister who stands in the kitchen behind the speakeasy’s bar can’t help but stare at her older brother who somehow manages to assemble different types of small plates for four people at once. But it’s the fact that no amount of magnesium can fix his almost permanently clenched jaw that she knows something is bothering him.

“Hmm…” She takes his used cutting board and a stack of dirtied plates away from his area to bring to the sink to rinse. “I don’t like it,” she tells him while dropping the stack in the sink, wincing at the crashing sound.

“The bruschetta you stole?” He asks over his shoulder. Albeit, the way his tone angles upwards at the end, a squeak that he tries to hide by clearing his throat, is a clear tell that the quality of the food, or at least something related to tonight, greatly concerns him.

“No. It’s actually really good.” She restacks the dishes in the sink, thinking that it would be better to wash them all at once after dinner. “I was talking about you. Something’s bothering you.”

“You’re bothering me.” He frowns in his spot, bending over to adjust the garnish on one of the plates. “Go bother Seokmin. He’s probably crying while he’s running the grocery store alone without you by his side.”

“He’s a big boy. He can handle it,” she muses, humming while wiping her hands on a dishtowel.

“I’m telling you to climb up your thumb.”

“And I’m telling you that you have girl problems.”

Before he can turn around to confront his sister about minding her own business, two familiar voices enter the speakeasy from the hidden hallway connecting the employee room of the grocery store to the speakeasy’s office. Head perking upwards like a sleeping cat when they hear the familiar clinking of keys on a chain when one unlocks the front door, Lee Jihoon’s entire attitude and disposition seem to shift into the positive. And the sister almost snickers at the sight.

---

Clearly less stressed than before, Lee Jihoon still walks around more reserved than usual. He left the small talk to the others and only chimed in when spoken to. But the one hand that found a home around her waist, on her shoulder, in her hand, said something otherwise. And maybe it’s not a lie when others say that being around your favorite person could make all your worries go away. The way that his tiny fangs come into view when she gushes about her audition, the unnoticeable squeeze he gives her hand when she talks about calling off sick for work in order to practice for the audition, and the blush on top of his already flushed face when she tells the other couple that she couldn’t have done it without him by her side…it did make his worries go away, at least for the time being.

Two hours later, the siblings are once again in the speakeasy’s kitchen, cleaning the used and empty dishes while the other two chat away near the stage where they plan for a duet in the future. There is an empty bottle of homemade red wine left to dry next to the dish rack. He sits by himself on the stool near the sink, holding a half-filled wine glass in one hand, promising to finish off the rest of the bottle by himself before his team comes in to open the speakeasy within the next hour.

“Hey, be honest. What’s eating yo-”

“She told me she loved me this morning.” He cuts off his sister’s question while staring at his sorry expression through the soft reflection against the burgundy-red liquid.

“Oh…OH?” She doubles back.

“I wasn’t able to reciprocate it,” he sighs. “It came out of nowhere.”

There isn’t anywhere to sit so she decides to squat next to him, taking the glass out of his hands so she can finish it for him. Of course, she would be worried about the man who never seemed to be able to keep a relationship or even enter one look so distraught over a quip in his relationship. Finding out it was about the question of love, she can’t help but pry more out of him, never experiencing this kind of talk with her older brother in the past. But when she sees his eyes squint at the hem of her everyday dress draped across the dirty kitchen placemats and him immediately getting up from his stool so she could sit, she knows that he would be fine.  

“What’s next? Do you think you’ll have to break up with her?” She tries to push his buttons.

“No.” He hears the familiar tuning note in the distance, echoing throughout the empty speakeasy. “Maybe I would be able to reciprocate it someday,” he mumbles while scratching the side of his head.

She chugs the rest of the wine, earning a disapproving look from her older brother, and rinses the glass in the sink.

“I think I’ll have my gentleman walk me home now…leave you to work.”

He takes her glass out of the sink and immediately washes it again, not trusting that she could truly clean it in her inebriated state.

“Make sure he gives you his jacket. It’s starting to get chilly outside.”

“How can it be chilly? It���s only the beginning of Summer.”

“Also, don’t walk. Take my breezer keys from my office drawer,” he tells her while she hugs him goodbye. “And tell him to drop her off, yeah? She must be tired.”

“From the audition?”

“Yeah…the audition.”

“Are you sure you don’t love her?” She squeezes his shoulder. “Don’t think too much about it, okay?”

“I-” He looks like he is about to say something but drops the notion. “Get home safe.”

It comes out like a sigh – a dilatory action to avoid her question. 

four - summer

There are only a few ways to command a room in a crowded speakeasy on an especially sweltering hot July Summer night. And only a few can truly get the room to become so quiet that everybody inside can hear conversations outside of the sturdy soundproof walls of the speakeasy.

She stands onstage next to one of the lead singers of the week. Seungkwan, the lead’s name, tries to pry open the newspaper to the right page but struggles to find any grip between the smooth-printed paper and his dry fingertips. The action causes the crowd to groan, but a singular and sharp shh sound emitted from the speakeasy’s owner’s mouth at the back of the crowd causes the entire crowd to acquiesce and grow silent again.

Seungkwan swipes the tip of his pointer finger across his tongue and rubs the wetness against his thumb. The younger man smiles when he finds his grip and immediately flips to the right page, right to the location of the musical advertisement. He shifts his body away from the eager dame, oscillating ball to heel, who is dressed like a patron of the Ritz just for this special occasion. Left pointer finger skimming through the cast members, he skips ahead and heads straight to the ensemble.

From the crowd beneath the stage, one could see the top of the singer’s head, eyebrows, and a pair of eyes right above the top of the newspaper. The man on the stage holds the newspaper to the crowd, showing them the content like a schoolteacher reading to their class.

“Ensemble!” he yells. “And the understudy for the lead!”

The ebullient cheers that follow the announcement fill the speakeasy – a newfound cause for celebration. A regular in this establishment is about to star in a mainstream musical and they are all about to get bragging rights. And the dame whose name is printed on thousands of newspapers stands on stage, quite clearly in shock. Lace-gloved hands covering her mouth and the recovered fake pearl necklace hanging from her neck, she can only allow tears of joy, of jubilation, to fill a reservoir in her eyes. Months of hard work, hours upon hours of practice, sore muscles, and a dream to work toward – there’s a realized catalyst to her belief that nothing that she had worked toward, worked for, and dreamed about had ever gone to waste.

And he, Lee Jihoon, continues to stand in his place at the back of the Diamond Glass, unmoving like the Statue of Liberty. He sees his Ritzy moll under the spotlight, shining, scintillating in all her newfound glory. Where he would usually be focusing on the crowds of men with fat pockets rushing to the bars, he can’t help but keep his eyes on his girlfriend.

His mouth moves on its own. Opening. Tongue touching the back of his front teeth. The last syllable forms a pout. Three words formed without any sound.

The thing is, she sees him. Even from the stage in the front of the room, the only person she can clearly see silently supports her from the back of the crowd. To her, he is, and always will be, her only glowing entity in the pitch dark. And she directs a fabulous smile at him. She knows.  

---

“F-fuck!” Her stomach jolts when she feels his thick fingers exiting her leaking cunt.

“Aww my baby is so vulgar, isn’t she? Wanting to fuck in public while everybody else is getting drunk and celebrating her?”

The owner of the Diamond Glass leans back into the beautiful moss green leather executive chair with the cherry wood elements that his workers gifted him on his past birthday. Spread across his matching cherry wood desk are the gams belonging to the woman the entire speakeasy is celebrating. And the new musical actress shudders at the feeling of her naked and throbbing core against the cold office air while she lies with her back against the desk, dress pulled up and bunched around her breasts. And he smirks in his seat, his left hand moving to his neck to loosen his necktie while his right hand reaches into his desk drawer to draw out a long wooden object. 

“Left or right hand, baby?” He asks her while palming himself in his seat, his zipper already down and his erection dripping with precum.

“L-Left,” she stutters while staring at the ceiling, heart beating fast.

“Left what?” He spreads his thighs a little more, relaxing into his seat while he slowly strokes himself to the fleshy sight in front of his face.

“Daddy,” she chokes, her back arching off the wooden surface, fake pearl necklace clacking against the desk, her wanting to feel anything and to be given anything by the man who sits behind his desk.

He moves the oblong object into his left hand and rubs the precum off his head with the pad of his right thumb. Like a painter branding their work of art, Jihoon marks her soft nub with his precum, smearing it on her as if he is marking his territory. And she moans from his touch, every inch of her body prickling with heat.

Thinking for a couple of seconds while stroking himself with his right hand, he finally decides, “We’re not leaving this room until we see your pretty pussy squirt on daddy. Hold still for me Sweetheart.”

With no time for her to react, he brings the object down on her opening, fast. The slapping sound of the wooden ruler against her fragile clit rings throughout the room – threatening to drown out the sounds of people partying on the other side of the guarded door. The euphonic sound of her squealing, the way her thighs close and immediately open like the whore she is, only edges him more.

He slaps her pussy again, bringing down the makeshift paddle quickly. Then again. And again.

She cries in response, tears leaking down the sides of her face as she calls out to him Daddy, daddy, yes! Daddy – s-shit. Please! More! Use me. Withering in her spot, she feels nothing but the euphoria and the stinging sensation that makes her sex clench, builds her high, and causes her eyes to roll to the back of her head. And he relishes in watching and hearing her positively react, feeling his high build in the palms of his hands.

However, like the businessman he is, he thinks what is in front of him is not enough. So he drags his heavy seat closer to his desk till his face is directly in front of her cunt when he is seated. And he knows that he didn’t take that much time to adjust his seat, but her fingers are already dipping into her sopping cunt without permission – a dainty middle finger slowly and repetitively entering her sex and pulling out while she sighs in relief.

Irritated by her actions, he uses his precious ruler to nudge her hand away from her cunt. He drops his ruler on his desk and immediately, by bringing his empty hand against her cunt and feeling her jolt under his fingers, pulls his hand back to slap her again.

“Whore.”

This single word leaves his mouth, laced with disgust. But it causes her to reach her high, her body jolting as she comes. He uses this moment to put his face against her cunt, burying his tongue in her folds, licking and prodding while his strong hands grab hold of her thighs to steady her while she shakes against the tabletop. He lets himself be buried in her cunt, pushing his nose against her nub and lapping her juices like it’s his only source of water. Teasing her with the tip of his tongue, he kitten licks her cunt until she shakes under his hands and sends a long and flat stripe up her folds.

Overstimulated by him eating her out while she orgasms, by him punishing her by sticking his tongue up her vagina, all she can do is slur her cries – so, so, so entirely intoxicated by him against her sex. And the frail cry turns into a scream when he pulls out his tongue and slaps her one last time – the sharp pain against her bodily exhaustion causes her to squirt, wave after wave, coating his unbuttoned button down and lubricating his open and exposed chest.   

Her high blinds her so much that the can only see the deep red marks his fingers left on the outside of her thighs and the splotchy purple along her inner thighs when she recovers in the morning.

And the poor part-time bouncer, the law student with the circular glasses, can only keep a stoic face as he stands on the other side of the door. Because he knows that if he even reacts, even hints to others why he is guarding the office door, he would suffer a fate a lot worse than being fired from his boss’s precious speakeasy.

five - fall

He arrives home at around two in the morning and finally gets to enter the comfort of his bed at around three. The girlfriend who was lying in bed awake, waiting for her boyfriend to come home, is now completely lost as to why her sweetheart would even start an argument with her saying that she should have gone to bed without him. For months now, all she wanted was communication from someone who loves knowing everything and every single detail about everybody around him, but she can never seem to scratch more than his surface-level answers. And everything she does at that moment, including being awake for him, seems to tick him off even more than it should. And she is frustrated, not knowing what to do or how to confront him.

“You’re upset,” she points out.

“I’m not upset,” he retaliates, his tone a lot harsher than how he meant it to sound.

“You didn’t call me ‘Babe.’ You didn’t greet me when you came home.” She sits up from her side in his bed, the bedsheets falling just below her neckline. She hugs the sheets tightly to her chest. “You’re clearly upset.”

Truth be told, Lee Jihoon is definitely upset. They are in the middle of their first mini-argument, but it is hard to even begin a full-fledged fight when one side is extremely talkative and open about their feelings while the other side is the polar opposite. And the polar opposite in this situation only wants to sleep in his king-sized bed, too tired to even talk to her. Because in his heart, he knows that he would accidentally take his frustrations built from an amalgamation of happenings out on her through his language, and he knows that the only way to avoid that outcome is to avoid her altogether.

Continuing to look at his ceiling, he stubbornly ignores the woman he holds so precious to his heart, thinking that it would be better that way.

“Lee Jihoon,” she says his full name. “Talk to me. Why won’t you talk to me?”

Muscles tense under his blanket when he hears his name, and he stiffens in his place in bed. He can feel her getting more upset with every second he spends ignoring her – but it’s not like she isn’t used to him ignoring her. That’s how their relationship started anyway.

He knows he could just tell her. He knows he doesn’t even need to look her in the eyes to talk to her, to tell her how much of a bad day he has had. Just a couple minutes explaining how he is upset because the police stopped his men from unloading the grocery stock truck when they mistook the contents of the truck for alcohol, how the police almost found out about the speakeasy, how Seokmin proposed to his sister without his permission, and how he punched Seokmin would have been enough to put the both of them at ease.

But he is as hardheaded as they come, and he doesn’t have an answer for her – he doesn’t know why he won’t share his feelings with her.

A scintillant flash glimmers at the corner of his eye, and his bedroom is much too dark for any regular object to be shining so brightly. So he turns his head toward the object only when it catches his eye another time.

Lo and behold are two brilliant diamonds sitting proudly on her earlobes. And for a man who has seen all of his girlfriend, he has never seen them before – no matter how small they are.

“What are those?” he asks her, sitting up to get a better look at the earrings. And he frowns when he sees something prominent missing from her neck. “Where’s your pearl necklace?”

“Tossed it,” she answers a little too nonchalantly for his liking – as if the necklace that she always wore around her neck as a reminder that she would make it big and replace it with a chain of real pearls someday meant absolutely nothing to her.

“What?” His mouth is agape. His stubborn demeanor attenuates while his curiosity slowly appears.

He thinks that she’s joking – playing a little prank on him. But when he sees her staring at her manicured fingertips, pushing back her cuticles with her thumb, he can only accept the fact that she may not be joking. And it stings him a little because of the number of times she firmly turned his offer to buy her a piece of jewelry – a pearl necklace – as a gift, taking umbrage at his thoughtful request.

“Oh, Hoonie. I know you’re about to lecture me about sticking to my dreams. But I got my first big paycheck from the musical, and I saw how glittery and beautiful the diamond earrings looked at Tiffany’s in the department store so I had to buy them.”

Suddenly, his skin under his latest sleepwear under his heavy duvet blanket feels unbearably hot. He feels agitated by her actions even though it doesn’t pertain to him at all. And even more so, he finds himself furrowing his eyebrows at the way she shifted from being upset with him not wanting to talk to her to suddenly forgetting about her anger just because of some real diamonds from the cheapest section. The thought of everything upsets his stomach and makes his jaw clench so hard that one accidental budge could grind his molars flat.

He knows that he can be a bit of an ass all the time and that before he took their relationship seriously he was still flirting with other women while she stupidly latched onto his arm in his speakeasy. He hates hearing his workers tease him about becoming the type of man who would finally settle down with a lovely dame. Nevertheless, her name used to only form from his lips, while they now form from the innermost portion of his heart. And still spends nights wondering how the hell someone like him can manage to fall in love with someone like her – especially the “live in the moment” type of person.  

“Aww,” she whines while shaking his right arm. “I know you’re doing your dumb calculations in your head. It’s fine. I still have leftover money from when I worked two jobs.” She pauses and continues in a sultry voice, holding his right hand in one hand while she tiptoes her fingers along his bicep, “And, I also had enough money left over from this shopping spree to make another purchase.”

She moves before he can ignore her out of spite, letting her bedsheets fall to the mattress as she stands on her knees. Under the yellow light emitting from the art deco nickel-plated lamp from Jihoon’s bedside is a silhouette, a shadow of her figure, cast against the wall. Milk yellow satin bows that sit on top of her shoulders keep her chemise from falling. And the lingerie itself, a square neckline lined with thin hand-embroidered lace, cinches at the waist and drops downwards in a pillowy-soft see-through fabric. The same thin hand-embroidered lace forms garters around her thighs, holding up knee-high socks with tiny bows sewn in the front.

“You don’t want this?” She teases him by letting go of his hand to trace a finger along her neckline.

“Fuck, baby,” he breathes, holding out his right hand for her to take again. “Of course I want you. Let me take care of you tonight.”

“No, Love.” She crawls over to him, moving her right thigh over his legs until she straddles his hips. Griding down on him, she places her hands around his neck. “Let me.”

Not able to keep his cool-headed persona, his head tips backward so a soft moan can naturally escape his lips. On his lap is the weight of her entire body – random atoms bundled so tightly, creating cells, creating organs, creating and completing the love of his life. He misses her pearls, the stupid piece of cheap jewelry that tarnishes with every scratch against hard surfaces – like his skin when her nails dig into them, leaving bright and stinging red trenches masked by the fire he feels at his core.

The love of his life on top of him, feeling and teasing herself, calling herself names that may never leave the bedroom…he almost wants to bend her over the bathroom sink to wash her mouth, scrub it raw, and peck the pouty lips and then the eyelids where her lashes tickle his bottom lip. Reveling in his private lap dance as much as a man can at half-past three in the morning, he can only stare at her with so much love that the feeling alone sucks and strips away the color in the life around him. And when his mouth is stuffed with her soaked undergarment and she reaches for his pants, he knows he is done for.

Bedsheet roughly thrown to the side, and the weight of its fall knocks over today’s unread paper placed towards the edge of the nightstand. The paper falls to the floor along with the bedsheet and opens to the entertainment page. Leading Lady FIRED, the headline reads. A summary of the contents is as follows: leading lady was fired because she was caught auditioning for another role while she was supposed to be at practice for her current musical, her no-name understudy will take over her role for the rest of the season, and critics hypothesize either the birth of a new shining star or the failure of an entire production caused by a chain of events.

six - fall

A giant star follows the signature that finishes with a flourish, etched with the black expensive ink from the solid gold Sheaffer “Propel – Repel – Expel” Pencil from the Giftie Set that is supposed to come out at the end of October for this upcoming holiday season. The owner of the receipt that is now etched with the signature of someone famous thanks the musical actress again – still trying to fathom how such a famous actress shops at the same local grocery store as she does – before leaving through the front door.

Chic coffee-colored suede fabric of the light long coat in Philippe et Gaston’s winter collection – not yet released and imported straight from Paris – flows and flaps against the current that rushes in when the patron with the signature leaves the grocery store. Once again, the coat peacefully settles right above her calves when the wind breaks its trail. The actress tucks her pen back in its leather case where the second pair of the Giftie Set is missing – in fact, the matching retractable fountain pen rests in the lapel of the grocery store owner’s coat at all times. She drops the case in her black clutch and snaps it close. Old cut, 0.40-carat yellow and platinum diamonds – two of them in oval drops – collect and accentuate the front of her open collar, gifted by her loving boyfriend. They sparkle against the afternoon sunlight that shines through the shop’s open windows, glimmering and glistening like the love they are meant to represent.

The understudy-turned-leading lady adjusts how her white cloche hat sits on top of her head before turning to look at Seungcheol who leans against the wall behind the cashier counter, furiously whispering into the telephone. It seems as if he doesn’t want to be disturbed, or even be acknowledged. He quickly hangs up the phone and rushes through the backdoor, straight to his boss’s office.

The second owner of the store, the sister, recommends the newspaper with the musical reviews to a customer. There’s a sly smile on her face, the hidden excitement of knowing that the actress whose glowing musical reviews in the newspaper is only a few feet away. Still, she maintains her polite and professional front.

Softly humming to herself while walking around the store, the actress thinks about the items she wants to pick up for her new agent before she meets him for the first time at the radio station. She settles on a soft drink for him and water, no, tea for herself before going to the counter where her fake sister-in-law waits.

“You waiting for Hoon?” the younger one asks while grabbing a brown paper bag from under the counter.

“Yeah,” she sighs while unclasping her bag so she can reach in to grab her coin pouch. “I was supposed to remind him about the radio show today, but he left the house in a rush. I rang him a few times, but I couldn’t even reach him.” She shakes her head while unzipping her coin pouch with her gloved hands.

The cashier tsks and pushes the outstretched hand with the coins away, “Just take the bag. You know my brother will come for my head if he finds out you visited and paid for something. How can I wear a veil during my wedding if I don’t have a head?”

“And you know it hurts my dignity knowing that I can afford at least two drinks,” she pushes back. “Plus, Seokmin would love you even without that pretty head of yours.”

“Take the bag, and bunk off. Dingus,” she mutters, her cadence eerily mirroring that of her brother’s.

“Don’t call her a Dingus.” Jihoon’s voice appears out of nowhere. He finishes tying his apron around his back before shoving his sister to the side. “Only I can call her Dingus.”

“Nobody can call me a Dingus,” the girlfriend remarks and proceeds to drop her coins in the tip jar before taking her bag of drinks from the counter. “Flag me a cab, yeah? I came to remind you about today’s show.”

Immediately acquiescing to her request, he nods his head and quickly scrambles to meet her on the other side. He grabs the paper bag from her arms, afraid that it may be too heavy for her, and guides her to the front of the store. From there, he brings his thumb and pointer finger together and puts them between his lips, whistling loudly to flag a cab.

“Today at three,” he smiles at her. “I didn’t forget.”

A cab pulls to the curb before he can strike up a conversation with her, and he has no choice but to help her in the cab and hand the paper bag back to its owner. And it hurts him a little more when the cab driver drives off before he can kiss her on the cheek. But watching her head pop out of the window while the cab drives away and that big smile of hers coupled with a waving hand, he can’t help but feel like the luckiest man on this Earth.

---

“You closed the shop early and demanded us to come in not for training but because of your girlfriend?” Chan, the part-time bouncer slowly asks as if he is trying to understand his boss’s thought process. “Hoonie wants us to help him get a radio shout-out from his kitten? Meow?”

Mingyu immediately tosses the student over his shoulder and heads over to the speakeasy before Jihoon can physically lunge at his worker. Seungcheol, who may be the only employee who can physically restrain the man without getting fired, lets go of Jihoon when Mingyu and Chan are finally gone.

“Anybody who stays for the entire duration gets a bonus,” Jihoon growls while straightening his collar.

The rest of the group nods and mumble among themselves as their boss adjusts the radio they have all crowded around to the correct frequency. Instantaneously, a familiar laugh fills the tense atmosphere and eases everybody it reaches.

Wow. I can’t believe both of you knew what you wanted to be and where you wanted to go since you were kids, the radio host recounts. Your parents must be so proud.

They are. A masculine voice – the seasoned musical lead. They have a collection of posters from all of the musicals I’ve been in…signed by the cast and everything. They’re so special to me.

That’s so sweet of them to do so, the host responds. Speaking of special people, and I’m pretty sure everybody tuning in wants to know, does our leading lady currently have someone special?

Jihoon’s ears perk up when he hears the question and immediately glow bright red when he notices several pairs of eyes trained on him. He shoots a glare at his crowd before awkwardly adjusting in his seat while he waits for his beloved to respond.

Oh, me? She giggles. I’m happily single.

And the answer shocks everybody – the grocery store becomes so quiet that you can only hear the hums emitting from the refrigerators.

So you’re saying if you’re single and your handsome co is also single, the host presses, then that means there’s a chance that the two of you could possibly become a couple by the end of your season?

Laughter – hearty guffaws from the radio and small awkward hiccups on the other end of the radio.

I mean, the host recounts, word on the street is that there are quite a few kiss scenes in this musical. Not to mention the chemistry the two of you share on stage and off stage. No wonder it’s so popular!

The door to Jihoon’s office slams shut, echoing throughout the establishment. It is only then that the employees of the Diamond Glass finally notice that their boss has angrily left the scene.

seven - fall

Holding her jaw open with one hand, Jihoon bends over and watches his spit fall onto her awaiting tongue, how the liquid bubbles and collapses against the papillae of the muscular organ. Once he shuts her mouth, his hand moves back to her throat where he can clearly feel the way her Adam’s apple bobs against the palm of his hand when she swallows his spit.

Every time he squeezes her esophagus, her velvet walls clench and flutter around his cock while she prays and begs him to take off her blindfold.

But he doesn’t respond. Even when he hears her beg, her: Daddy, Daddy, please. Please take off my blindfold so I can be a proper slut, so you can ruin my pussy. Use me, please. He doesn’t budge. Not today.

Tonight, Lee Jihoon is not taking any requests: he only has one goal on mind.

He has her body memorized – the familiar feeling of hitting the exact spongy part to cause her to orgasm, how much pressure the rough pads of his fingertips must exert on her clit. He rolls his hips for her to take him in deeper until his throbbing tip reaches an end, and he extracts himself and thrusts inwards without pause. The hand around her neck loosens and travels downwards towards her breasts, cupping, squeezing, and pinching the nipples until they turn into sore and hard little nubs. He massages them and watches how they fill the gaps between his fingers with every rough squeeze.

She’s as loud as ever. Back arching, she begs her boyfriend to make her feel good instead of playing with her. She’s already tired of being used despite her excessive begging.

As much as he knows exactly how to make her come undone, he knows exactly the steps he has to take to make himself feel good in her. And he grabs both thighs, pushing them back and spreading them wide to give himself a better angle. Roughly, he rocks his hips into her tight little pussy with so much force that it sends her sliding a few inches backward, the bed creaking.

“Oh- FUCK!” she gasps.

Thrusting aggressively, he bites his bottom lip while he stares at the headboard ahead of him. His fingers dig deep into her thighs and she struggles to moan as her entire body jostles up and down in repeated motions. Everything comes out in segments.

He fucks her roughly and without any ounce of kindness. And when her pussy could clamp around his cock just a few moments ago, it fails to hold on the more she becomes his personal fucktoy instead of his girlfriend. She’s confused and horny, her pussy feeling sore yet amazing while being ripped apart by his thick and veiny cock; he’s close to his release.

The thing is, she’s not even close to coming when his hips jerk and buck in place before he finishes in her. He silently pulls out, rolls off his condom, ties it, and tosses it in the trash can while leaving her in bed. He doesn’t even give her a second glance when he tells her he is headed for the roof.

“What the fuck,” she mutters under her breath while she plants her feet against the mattress. She rips the blindfold off her face and decides that if he’s not going to help her finish, she would do it herself.

If he doesn’t need her, then she sure as hell doesn’t need him.

---

She watches him from the door to the roof as he inhales and lets the pillowy smoke flow out of his mouth. It’s interesting to her how the length of a couple of days can turn two people, as close as they are, into complete strangers. And she is lost as to how such a loving man, no matter how cold he may seem to those who aren’t acquainted with him, could ever act as if his love for her somehow became conditional. 

People say that love can keep people even in the coldest and darkest places warm. Maybe she does believe it to be true, but now, staring at the man she loves the most from a few feet away, the warmth feels more like a memory than a presence. Midnight air nips at her skin, raising goosebumps and causing her arm hairs to stand straight, while he looks blissful or at least contented to be alone with his pack of cigarettes. She doesn’t even know that he had a pack on him. 

People also say that love can make you become either really brave or really dumb, but that’s like comparing apples to oranges. Even she is confused about whether or not confronting him at the top of his brownstone tonight is the bravest or dumbest thing she can do. But her actions happen before she can really register what is it that she wants from him. 

“Is this about me not kissing you before I got into the cab the other day?” Okay, at least it comes off as a passive joke to hide her anger. “It’s because we were in public.”

“Since when have you ever cared about kissing in public?” he gruffs, making it a point to turn his body away from hers. 

His irritable attitude towards her makes her tick. And she scoffs, “Stop bullshitting me, Jihoon. If you miss a kiss, then you can make up for it later on. And I did.” She marches towards the side he is facing and leans against the half-wall balcony. “Remember how we promised to always be open about what’s bothering us? Like the night where I bought the diamond earrings and you were pissed about the engagement?”

“Oh, so it’s my fault.” He rolls his eyes. His temper isn’t the best either. 

“When the fuck did I say it’s your fault?”

“Watch your mouth,” he mutters. 

“Watch my mouth?” she criticizes his hypocrisy. “You won’t even open your mouth to tell me about what’s bothering you. What am I? Some sort of scapegoat for your anger?”

“My anger?” he asks, pointing at himself with the hand that holds his cigarette between his knuckles. His question is rhetorical as well as the answer, but his ego refuses to accept the fact that she isn’t wrong. 

“Yes, your anger,” her voice suddenly calmed. “Please work with me here. Can’t you see I’m trying to solve whatever this is between us? Is it because of Jeonghan’s comment? About how he heard about the unscripted kiss during one of our scenes?”

“So it was real,” he scoffs, turning his head to look at the view ahead of him. He wishes that the soft breeze which tickles and ruffles the tops of the several rows of trees below him can also whisk him away from this conversation. 

“Acting, Jihoon. It was just us acting.” She can’t believe the productive conversation she imagined having with his is taking a turn for the worst. 

“Why don’t you just date him instead because, apparently, I’m not your boyfriend anymore.” His retort is unfairly childish, but it implies some of his underlying concerns are slowly making their way to his surface. His mouth tastes dry and the warm and fuzzy high he felt before she disturbed his peace is already gone. He taps the ashes away against the brick edge before bringing the bud to his lips again. 

“Is this what was bothering you the whole time? The scripted radio show?” She sighs and brings her hand up to her temple to pinch and rub away the pain. Instead, she only feels a swelling sensation form and collects in the inner corners of her eyes. “It was the first time I met this new agent. And I had to listen to him because of his experience in the industry. He said that revealing our relationship might ruin my career, especially taking into consideration how hard I’ve worked for it. So I couldn’t discuss the boyfriend thing with you ahead of time because it was sprung on me the minute I sat down with him.” 

To her side is a man who had grown accustomed to having a cup of tea every morning instead of his usual cup of coffee after learning that his girlfriend doesn’t drink coffee. A man who regularly keeps his kitchen shelves stocked with various teas around the world as his way of saying how much he loves her, he could help but appease his curiosity as to what some measly leaves could offer to a person. The difference in caffeine made him feel a bit woozy at first, a remarkable We should call you Woozi with an I from the way you keep slipping in and out of consciousness from the one called Vernon. But now, he finds pleasure in walking around with a white mug, the tea bag’s string expertly looped twice around the top of the mug’s handle, tucked between his knuckles and mug.  

She knows how much of an asshole he can be, how hard it is for him to physically say “I love you” when others are around, and how he finds it challenging to even begin to open up and talk about his problems. But it may be her greatest downfall, believing that she could completely change a man whose flaws drew her in like a moth towards an open flame.

“I hate it when you smoke,” her voice quivers. She feels small next to the well-built man beside her, but she doesn’t know whether or not she should continue to try to reason with a brick wall. “It’s bad for my lungs.”

The thing is, Lee Jihoon is a good listener. Probably trained by his sister after taking care of her by himself for so many years, his listening skills make up for his lack of good communication skills. And he snuffs his half-burned cigarette against the brick edge, tossing it to the floor of the roof and rendering it destroyed with the heel of his shoe.

When he wraps her in his arms as a way of saying Sorry, I was in the wrong, she notices how cold he must be feeling. His cold skin immediately burns hot the moment it comes into contact with hers.

“I’m sorry. Don’t cry.” His apology is muffled against her strands of hair. “I really do love you.”

“Do you think we’ll be fine?” She asks him. It’s more of a need for confirmation – the reason for confirmation is murky.

“I don’t know.” His heart feels like it’s beating harder than usual, and he’s pretty sure she can also feel it. “I’ll try.”

Jealousy is a vile disease that can overtake and completely alter a person. And she realizes that the man who usually instills jealousy in those around him is also capable of being infected.

eight - winter

Tonight’s drink of choice is his usual Manhattan poured into a whiskey glass and garnished with a fresh slice of lemon instead of his usual olive, cherry, or lemon peel twist. However, it sits untouched on a handmade coaster on the desk in its owner’s office while the owner is nowhere to be found. Condensation on the outside surface of the glass pools at the bottom of the circular glass, held together in a ring thanks to cohesion forces. The cubed block of ice that sat in the middle of the sink now floats to the top in a sort of watery layer just above the alcohol. Pitch-black is what describes the office – nobody would even know Lee Jihoon considered drinking alcohol tonight, let alone visited his office.

Joshua thinks his boss is probably in his office calculating the cost of each ounce of alcohol against the recipe for every drink, knowing how stingy he can be. He also notices the lack of a cheerful presence that makes his boss’s ears flush bright red. But he doesn’t say anything about it, after all, bartenders are always here for the gossip but never participate in spreading gossip.

Jihoon sits in the dark of his grocery store near the entrance where the porch light shines brightly through the glass windows. His shoulder blades, especially the upper area towards the middle of his neck and shoulders, are screaming in pain. And the empty crate he uses as a stool is anything but comfortable.

It’s not a particularly big grocery store. It’s more like a rectangular hole-in-the-wall about the size of the speakeasy's kitchen. There are open crates of neatly stacked fruits and vegetables in front of the counters for customers to choose themselves while all of the other goods are behind the counters. Where walls of groceries line the four walls and the walking space is only large enough to have five different customers comfortably shop at once, Jihoon feels that the tiny front for his speakeasy becomes his sort of personal sanctuary. His sister is barely at home now that she’s in the process of moving most of her stuff to Seokmin’s place, and the tiny changes he made around the house to accommodate his girlfriend remind him too much of her. His office is much too cold and stress-inducing to be in alone during Winter. And the speakeasy is noisy and rowdy where his presence only instills fear in others or causes him to be whisked away in some conversation he doesn’t want to take part in.

So sitting in the only place he can seem to find comfort may be the only way he can truly accept the fact that in the ninth month of getting to know the woman with the big dreams and fake pearls, she is slowly becoming a stranger to him as he is to her.

A single kiss, a peck on the cheek is what she would leave him with before parting every time he dropped her off at the backdoor of the matinee. Now she has a private chauffeur who picks her and her agent up to bring them to wherever her schedule needs her to appear. And it tore out a piece of his heart when she told him that it was for the best especially when she started developing a strong hatred towards speakeasies. In fact, most of their more recent fights were about his job and how she can’t be around people who are associated with something so illegal and vile.

For two people who spent the majority of the year together, each recent meeting feels like an awkward exchange between two people whose lives are moving ahead with barely any space for the other to exist. Where one is preparing for the end of her musical run and the new musical production she’s been cast in, the other one is busy switching seasonal grocery stock and preparing his speakeasy for a VIP. She’s been on more fake dates in a week with her co-star in an industry-fueled scheme to generate more revenue before the musical run ends than she has in a month with her real boyfriend. Even the thrill of sneaking around with each other seemed to have worn off.

One is a woman who came from nothing and now has everything she ever wanted and wants more. The other is a man who came from something and is content with what he has.

Perhaps the thing he most wants is to understand her just a little more. He doesn’t understand the new words and phrases she integrated into her daily jargon and wonders about what or how she thinks of him now that she is on the way to having everything she ever wanted. It’s not like he wants more, no. He’s truly content with what he has. But he can’t help but wonder if love is just the beautiful landscape she spends some time driving through on her road to the glitz and glamour of stardom. If he is simply a backdrop, then why did she even want to pursue him in the first place? Why did he allow himself to fall in love? Why was she so adamant about picking up all of her phony loose pearls when she doesn’t care about buying real ones anymore?

Jihoon knows that life is as fragile as the soft waxy pear he holds in his hand – how a fruit could be so delicate to the touch, but farmers still swatch on a layer of protective wax to keep it from getting bruised and dehydrated with hopes that the fruit would journey safely into somebody’s grocery bag. One single and firm squeeze of the fruit in his palm could turn it into mush and have the juice drip down his fist in globs. Driving a single stomp through the barrel of neatly stacked pears would not save them from becoming absolutely demolished. Protective wax does nothing. Trying to protect himself from getting hurt like that thin coat of fruit wax does absolutely nothing as long as he is in love. And love may just as well be something as fragile as life.

Hand reaching for nothing and hitting the inside of an empty crate, Jihoon quickly retracts his hand while feeling a bit embarrassed for not noticing that he’s done stocking the pears. Having nothing to do causes a wave of loneliness, no, nostalgia to wash over him like the moonlight over the tumbling ocean waves. The fact that she brings up the fact that he owns a speakeasy every time they argue is frequent enough that the thought always lingers at the back of his mind. He can’t comprehend how she somehow started hating speakeasies almost overnight and hates the fact that he is the owner of one. She tells him that it would be better if he left the speakeasy to Seungcheol to manage the grocery store full-time. Looking at everything around him from the walls of products to the shiny wooden floors to the long flowerbeds placed against the walls of windows, he doesn’t know if he could ever give up the speakeasy to work at a place he loves so dearly. Maybe one day in the future when the Prohibition gets lifted, he would turn the speakeasy into something else.

Right now, he is not willing to give up something that he loves. The Diamond Glass is his home, and his employees are his family members. Giving up something as precious as his speakeasy is not something that he would even consider putting on his bargaining table even if it means losing the love of his life. Unwillingness to give up on something he loves for someone whom he loves results in him thinking about the version of his love in the darkness of the grocery store. The version of her with the flimsy dress, the version of her as a fling, the version of her he was afraid to love, the version of her as his love, the version of her he is growing apart from – he thinks about them all. Imagining an alternate universe where she is as unchanging as he is, a version where they can wake up in bed together only to laze around till four in the afternoon – it might be a selfish concept, he thinks. Previously uninhabited space in his brain, now filled with her to the brim, he’s not strong enough for it to spill over until it empties.

A flood of light washes into the grocery store at an angle when the employee door behind the counter opens. Choi Seungcheol stands at its opening with an unsmiling look on his face. Jihoon looks back at the older man, pausing before he sighs and wipes his hands on his pants.

“They’re in your office,” Seungcheol tells his boss.

“Who the hell let them in here?” Jihoon sighs while standing up, stretching his back before heading towards where his employee stands. It doesn’t take many contexts to fully understand what Seungcheol meant when he used the pronoun. Even more so, Jihoon immediately deduced the topic of the incoming conversation and the approximate amount of time the less-than-amicable conversation would take.

“I dunno,” the older man shrugs. “It’s not like we can turn them away. We do need business with them.”

nine - winter

Bursting through the office door and swinging the door open with so much force that the door ricochets off the wooden doorstop and wobbles while being supported by its hinges, she stomps with a fury unmatched by no other. In her wake are a scorching fire and the apologetic part-time bouncer who tried his best to stop her without ever laying a hand on her.

“I-I’m sorry. I tried,” the bouncer with the circular glasses tries to explain himself to his boss. “I-I told her that today’s not a good day, and that you’re-”

“I’m going to make you develop a complex,” the boss seethes through his teeth without moving his mouth to attempt a straight and dignified-looking expression in her presence. Capping his solid gold Sheaffer pen from the old gift set, dropping the expensive item on his stack of papers, and leaning back in his office chair with an annoyed expression on his face is more than enough to send bouncer out the door, scrambling and slamming the door shut behind him.

Jihoon doesn’t respond to his girlfriend, though he makes sure to look at her, studying her smudged stage makeup and the new expensive decoration that hangs from her neck. Silence between the couple becomes a waiting game, a game that anticipates the drop of a guillotine strong enough to cut the tension developed. Pulling the lever, she slices through and continues the journey she embarked on since her last show.

“Lee Jihoon,” his name cracks like a lightning strike – powerful yet lonely – emitted from her atmosphere. “How could you?”

Outside the guarded office door, the VIP speakeasy crowd roars in laughter and cheers. Glasses clink and specially ordered wooden chairs scrape against the sticky floors while speakeasy singers entertain their audience for the night. If Lee Jihoon is the owner and boss of this establishment, then the middle-aged woman who sits at the circular mini table right in front of the stage is the king.

This middle-aged woman with a kind face whose deep smile lines appear when she smiles at others in her acknowledgment is the sole supplier of the Diamond Glass’s alcohol. One misstep, one thought of collusion against her, one simple miscalculation on proposals can erase the Diamond Glass from existence including its workers, leaving the local police with a cold case unsolved for years because they would have nothing, to begin with. Hoping to never upset the king before the Prohibition ends, Lee Jihoon will do anything to maintain his healthy and trustworthy relationship with her and her cohort.

Right now, with her in his office, there is so much more than just simply trying to be business partners with the speakeasy’s current private clients. Because of this, agitation is what makes his leg shake. Fear is what causes him to snap at his girlfriend. Ultimately, this sparks a negative chain reaction foreseeable by anybody since the beginning of Autumn.

Get out are the only two words he can manage to snap at her. His right pointer finger pointed at his office door and his right arm trembles in its extension. Himself, the man sitting in his office chair, feels nothing but anger and fear from seeing his girlfriend in a place in which she should not be seen – a place she upbraided and proclaimed to be untenable in its legality.

“How could you?” she asks again in an accusing tone, her hands forming into tight balls of fists so that her knuckles visibly pale. “You liar. You promised you would be there for my last show. Why weren’t you there? You have so many employees working for you, and you’re not even out there. You’re just sitting in your office doing something you can do another time. Everybody’s partners were there for them at the afterparty yet I rushed here.”

Jihoon sits up from his seat, folding his hands on his desk. He takes a good look at the musical actress in front of him – prim and proper looking, her hair styled in neat curls, and the elegant and flowy black Lanvin Robe de Style which he finds to indicate she took time to change out of her costume into something non-inconspicuous. Paris’s House of Creed’s Angélique Encens set to be released in the early 1930s floats around her like a thin veil of mist. The sensual powdery-floral cut by the salty ambergris beautifully blended with vanilla and tuberose was said to be a pre-release gift from the founder of the perfume house. He thinks about the time when she accidentally dropped the perfume bottle she bought back in ’17 on her wooden floors. She thought nothing of the accident – no indication of dejection while picking up the broken pieces of glass and causally mentioned the perfume incident in an interview. The next day, a fresh bottle and a bouquet of roses were gifted to her from the perfumery. He’s not sure if the new bottle ever made it out of her closet. He’s not the type to compare himself to others – no, his confidence and self-assurance are too high for that – but he can’t help but wonder whether or not he can say her name the way he used to.

When you love someone, a name isn’t formed from the mouth but from the heart. The image of her in his head, once formed and sculpted from his skinny love, still exists in his hippocampus. Happiness when he sees her, the rush of dopamine when he feels her fall asleep again him after a long day, never originated from the limbic cortex. Fully believing it, even now at this moment despite the circumstances, he believes it was passed to him by her. Where her name is formed from his heart, she is his entire heart. And it hurts him to even consider the fact that she he holds close to his heart may just as well walk away with a piece of him that would never be returned.

It is the last time he says her name from his heart. He tells her to leave, that it’s not safe. He doesn’t want his bodyguards to ever lay a hand on her. It’s for the best, he tells her. We’ll talk about it tomorrow. He’s afraid of the fact that literal gangsters in the building would scare her, and he’s not about to compromise her integrity. For her sake, he feels that keeping the fact to himself, letting her walk over him if she has to, may keep her safe.

“But there’s no tomorrow,” she almost wails, stomping her feet even. She’s frustrated that she had to attend the party celebrating the end of the season alone, frustrated over his stolid attitude over everything. She just wishes he could’ve been there with her experiencing one of the most important moments of her life.

Shooting out of his chair, sending it backward from the force with which he pulls himself up, he slams his hands on his desk. “Leave,” he yells at her.

“Choose,” she lays down her ultimatum for him. “Me or the speakeasy.”

“Diamond Glass,” he chooses without hesitation. Albeit, the expression he notices form on her face causes him to feel restive in his response. “Me or your fake boyfriend?”

“Fake boyfriend?” She feels her skin prick with coldness. “Do you have to bring him up every time we get into an argument?”

“What?” The tone of his voice is anything but amicable. “So you’re only here to argue with me for a little bit before you storm off to your little boy toy. What happened to compromise? What happened to me being the most important person in your life?”

“Compromise?” She seethes. “I literally told you that my new agent sprung it upon me when I met him.”

“The easiest phrase you can say as an actress is ‘no comment.’ Or are you so far up your ass and your glitz and glamour that all you can do is be hotsy-totsy with all the men around you? Do you even think about me? Or do I only appear in your mind when you need me?”

“So what about me living the life I always wanted? So what if I have to fake date rich men while keeping this persona they built for me? Men, any men, regular men, rich men, they can all get in and out of relationships and marriages whenever they please and they wouldn’t be shamed for it. They can marry whenever and whoever they please and not be looked down upon. This includes you, Jihoon,” her voice dips when she says his name. There is a crack in her voice that Jihoon absolutely hates hearing because it means anything but her happiness. “All they want women to do is marry and have kids. But I get to escape that expectation because of my job. The leading lady was fired because she auditioned for another job. So what if the world found out that the understudy had a boyfriend? I would be a joke. I would be forced out of the industry, blacklisted for not taking my job seriously.”

“Why do you care so much about what other people think?” He almost wants to shout at her, to hurl his chair against the wall. “Given my connections, you would never be forced out of the industry.”

“You don’t get it do you?” Her knees buckle. “I never wanted to rely on you.”

“Then what did you want me for?” He can’t contain himself anymore. He shouts at her in frustration. “A good fuck? A summer fling? Someone to fix because your life was so boring before me?”

“I just wanted you by my side,” she shouts back.

“And I was always by your side.” He’s so frustrated that tears well up in the inner corners of his eyes. “I was always by your side even when I wasn’t in love with you. I was by your side this whole time even if you never felt it. I was by your side even when I didn’t understand. When I didn’t understand why you loved me. When I didn’t understand the words that came out of your mouth. When I didn’t understand why you don’t even look at me the way you used to.”

“And what was the way I used to-” She cuts herself off, stopping so she can point her head to the ceiling so that he doesn’t have to look at her sob. “Fuck.” The realization slaps her in the face.

“Shit,” Jihoon has no choice but to cuss. His face stabs with pain, and his arms feel numb. But heaping globs of tears stream down his face, and he breaks down on his spot – choked sobs and trembling shoulders, unable to look her in the eye. He also realizes the same thing – she doesn’t love him anymore.

Lee Jihoon doesn’t remember how he ended up in the middle of the VIP party’s crowd, drunk off of giggle water. Tonight, he can’t even bring himself to flirt with the woman who he plants himself behind, bringing her ass to his dick while she grinds on him on the dance floor. Everything feels so foreign to him – letting go, straying from his usual Manhattan, people prying him off of someone new, crying, being single, sobbing, crashing on someone’s couch, blacking out. He doesn’t know who he is or where he is. The only thing he remembers is seeing a piece of his heart leave when she left him in his office and the realization that they are no more.

Not even a sense of familiarity can rush over his inebriated self when he feels a heavy blanket cover his shivering body. Seungcheol, no; his sister, no; Seokmin…the king? He can’t quite differentiate whose couch it is that he is laying on or who it is who is consoling him.

“We can never go back to who we were before love,” the unidentified voice reassures him. “After love, we are just as different. But it takes time to create a better us than who we were when we were in love. After all, time and feelings change. You have loved yourself before, Jihoon. And you will love yourself again.”  

“Feel broken,” he manages to slur through his tears. He hasn’t stopped crying since being dragged out of the speakeasy “Gone.”

“But it doesn’t mean you can’t find yourself in the future.”

epilogue - spring '39

Lee Jihoon carries a toddler in his arm, someone whose eyes curl the same way he does when he smiles. He hands him an apple, a gorgeous waxy Red Delicious that is arguably too big for the toddler’s hands.

“Hold tight,” Jihoon tells the child. “Or it would fall and roll away. Then we can’t sell the apple.”

But the fruit immediately falls from the toddler’s hands, bouncing and rolling towards the other side of the newly renovated grocery store.

After all these years, the mom-and-pop grocery store manned by the Diamond Glass’s workers and families still stands proudly while facing the busy street before it. And the Diamond Glass, converted into a bar, has since made a name for itself after the Prohibition. The establishment with its criminal origins, instead of deterring people away, only attracts and appeals to the public.

The bell above the front door clanks when a new customer steps inside. And the quick burst of air caused by the act of opening the door drowns out what the new customer says to their driver.

In the meantime, Jihoon sighs and looks at the child in his arms – the kid whose lips quiver from making a mistake. He decides to let him go and squats to tell him that his mom would send him into exile if he ever made him cry. “Even worse,” he whispers to the child, “Seokmin would cry if he ever saw you cry. And you know how much your dad cries. But go get Uncle Seungcheol for me. We need more people in the front.”

A few minutes after the boss feels a gentle tap on his right shoulder. But he chooses to ignore them and instead calls for Seungcheol to help with the customer. He feels the tap again, this time with a little more pressure. So he turns his head from his stack of apples on the ground, looking up at the customer standing behind him.

She holds the dusty and bruised apple in her outstretched hand. And he notices the freshly coated swatch of lacquer that decorates her nails. His eyes trace up her gams to her tweed Chanel skirt and the matching blazer which sculpts her shoulders. In contrast to her expensive designer wear is the scuffed and faded pearl necklace which sits proudly around her neck – a contrasting centerpiece to her outfit. And he can tell that they’re fake, just like the ones that scattered and clacked against his once illegally sticky speakeasy floors.

Seungcheol’s head pops from the doorframe to the employee door behind the grocery store counter. “Who is it?” he asks his boss.

Jihoon looks at her in her eyes, the same pair of twinkling eyes he could never forget, and answers his question, “An old friend.”

Copyright © 2023 Himbocoups. All rights reserved.

[onlyseokmins]

Hiya, do you happen to know what happened to @hyucks-rose and their sax, settlements and speakeasies collab?

Hiya anon, I decided to message Rose since I didn't wanna speak on her behalf and this is what she said!

i no longer felt like writing [for fandom], esp. after being plagiarized repeatedly and treated like a machine. i also felt guilt for writing fanfic similar to what was been written about me before. the collab decided you could still post if you wanted to post it, and a few have, but it was no longer a requirement.

If you're looking for the fics of the collab, to my knowledge, I've read what Mars and June have posted that I've linked down below <3

[onlymingyus]

dokyeom masterlist

key

🍑Smut/Mature/Suggestive 🍓Fluff 🍍Angst 🍒 Poly/Multiple 🍊 MLM/Male Reader 🍋 Toxic 🍌 Comedy 💀 Horror/Thriller 

Dokyeom Thots • Dokyeom Fluff

Morning  🍓

Darling  🍑

Use Me 🍑

Sand Castles 🍓

Beautiful 🍑 🍍🍓

Use Me 2 🍑

Bed of Roses (sax, settlements, and speakeasies collab) 🍑 🍍🍓

To You (ft Joshua) 🍒🍑🍓🍍🍊

7PM (’bout you series) 🍑🍒🍓🍌

Good For You (peachybun-bun) 🍑

Buried Secrets 🍓🍍💀

Tension 🍑

17 🍓🍍

dokyeom + cockwarming🍑

dokyeom + thigh riding🍑

dokyeom & jeonghan + praise 🍑🍒

poly dokyeom & jun 🍑🍒🍊

Falling For U: Seokmin 🍑🍓🍍

Are You Scared of the Dark? (ft. Mingyu) Patreon Exclusive 🍑🍒🍓💀🍌🍊

[onlymingyus]

Sax, Settlements, and Speakeasies Taglist; @yoongihan @emilyhadenbaker @duhnova @xufilmz @joshibambi @1004luvangel @onlyseokmins @darl-ings @ryanrossfucker @shiningstar-byulxx @jun2u @gyusdoll @yzekim @just-here-to-read-01 @baldi-2 @burningupp-replies @tinkerbell460 @rebeccasficrecs @moshiyuron @renjunphile @minnie-mouser22 @kyeomsworld @myun9ho @sonicbananawithbowtie @alibraryfulloffanfics @hansolaria @notmels @brrrlamborgini @tyongff-ff @lenireads @monamonay @prodsh00ky

Bed of Roses (sax, settlements, and speakeasies collab)

pairing; lee seokmin (dk/dokyeom) x afab reader

genre; smut (minor dni), fluff, romance, angst

warnings; unprotected sex, marking, scratching, use of a rose as foreplay (rubbed against pussy), mentions the readers hair being pinned up and longer, cigarettes/smoking, alcohol, fighting, use of 1920's slang (probably poorly)

w/c; 6.7k and some change 

sax, settlements, and speakeasies masterlist

a/n; this was a fun fic to write, i tried to do as much research as i could but as with any period fic there will be inconsienctancies and lack of knowledge. thank you to @hyucks-rose for hosting this collab! thank you to @junkissed-replies and @wonwussy for reading and proofreading! please be sure to read all the fics in the collab as some will overlap -- mine will overlap some with @lipglossjun especially as she is writing for jihoon

Seokmin’s fingers run along the microphone, a smile crossing his lips that makes your stomach tighten even before he looks in your direction. A rose in his left hand, his signature prop every performance. Seokmin’s voice feels like silk against your skin as it reaches your ears.  

He grins into his song, his voice melting every person’s heart as he makes eye contact with a choice few before settling on you. You press your lips together, crossing your legs from one direction to the other and drawing his eyes down to them before he looks away. He knew better than to linger too long with all the eyes on him, especially Lee Jihoon’s, his boss and your brother. 

Your teeth catch your lip as he sings, making the women next to you swoon as if they get to go home with him at the end of the night. He had that effect on people. He could look at them, sing or talk to them, and make them feel like they were the only person in the entire world. When in reality you were the only person he wanted in his world and in his bed every night. 

Moving around the bar, Jihoon pauses to lean on the end, watching Seokmin with careful eyes. He was proud of the man, not only as an employee but as a friend. He had watched him grow into his voice over the past few years and over the past few months it had seemed his confidence had gotten even stronger. 

Jihoon’s eyes fell on you sitting at a front table, your finger running around the rim of a Jack Rose, a recent favorite of yours. You spent most of your nights here, though he urged you to find something better to do with your time. There were much better places for a woman who looked as nice as you to be, but you insisted on coming to The Diamond Glass night after night. 

“God, he’s a real cake-eater.” You narrow your eyes slightly to the conversation to your right, two girls swooning over Seokmin as he makes his way down the steps finishing his set. The rose dangling from his fingers. Each night he would hand off that rose to a lucky lady and most nights, just like tonight it ended up between your fingers. “Miss Lee.”

You laugh, feeling your cheeks burning at his attention and everyone else’s in the room. The girls at your side scoff, “He only gives it to her because she’s the owner’s kid sister. Sucking up to his boss, pretty smart of him. He’s using his head, can’t fault him for being smart.” 

Seokmin sighed softly, his back turned to the women. He had heard their conversation as well but he was a smart man who knew which battles to choose…even if they included you. Walking back up the stairs, Seokmin takes a bow then gestures to his band taking extra care to give more attention to the piano player, Junhui. The man grins, his fingers running across the ivory like he was born on that stool and to be in front of an audience. 

“Thank you ladies and gents. Refill your drinks and give another round of applause for Mr. Lee Jihoon for making any of this possible.” The patrons gasp in awe, many of them turning towards where Seokmin gestures at the bar to look at Jihoon. The man clearly not wanting the attention, simply lifts a hand and presses his lips together. His eyes scan over the crowd for you but in the excitement he had lost track of you, the only thing left on your table is a half finished Jack Rose and a long stem red rose. 

You smile against Seokmin’s lips, his fingers pressing against your sides to hold you against the wall of the dressing room. He couldn’t help but to return the smile having watched you as much as he could during his performance. You had fueled him and also frustrated him. “God, doll…you drive me crazy. You know that?” 

Nipping at his lips causes a small groan to slip from Seokmin’s lips. He knew that you were a minx and that you knew exactly what you were doing. “I don’t know nothin’, Seokmin. I’m just some girl who’s fallen head over heels for some singer.” 

Shaking his head, Seokmin’s smile pulls at the corner of his eyes. Your fingers clinging to his suit jacket feels like the only thing keeping him grounded to Earth. “Is that what you are?” Lifting his hand, Seokmin runs his thumb along your cheek, his index finger folded under your chin to lift your gaze to meet his own. 

“I think you are so much more than that. I’d give it all up for you, but you know that. Couldn’t stand hearing those girls running their traps off about something they don’t know anything about. Wanted to tell them you are my girl and to mind their business…” 

When you laugh, lowering your eyes, leaning your head to press your lips to Seokmin’s palm he feels like he is melting on the spot. You didn’t have to do anything special to get him wound up. “You know you can’t.” 

Yeah, Seokmin knew but that didn’t mean it made it any easier. It wasn’t like this was just some crush, this was the real thing. He wanted to tell the world, most of all he wanted to tell Jihoon so the two of you could just stop hiding but even the thought of it made his stomach twist up in knots. 

Jihoon sighed heavily, pushing through the crowd trying to make his way towards the back hall. He wanted to figure out where you had slipped off to but after Seokmin’s gracious words the patrons had flooded him with talk. It wasn’t that he wasn’t grateful for them but he had a feeling and he wanted to follow up on it. 

Jun watched Jihoon carefully, managing to step in front of him before he reached the corner that would lead to the dressing rooms and bathrooms. His voice boisterous and cheerful as he leaned to pat his boss on the arm with a huge grin on his face. “The place is packed tonight Jihoon. What are you doing back here? You had people falling on their faces for a look at you.” 

Furrowing his brows Jihoon looked up at the piano player who was speaking far too loud for such a confined space. Junhui was a bit odd but this was strange even for him. “I’m doing something. What are you doin’? Nothing? Shouldn’t you be going back up on the piano soon?” 

He was right, Jun had taken his break so he was expected to be back on stage and getting people on their feet dancing. “Ah, yeah. I’ll head back out there. You know me boss. I’m just taking my time. So many people were up during it, I’m giving their dogs a chance to rest. Don’t need ‘em barkin while Seokmin is trying to sing, if you know what I’m saying.” 

You and Seokmin had already caught on to what Jun was doing for you two. He was one of the few people who knew about your relationship and also one who would help you hide it from Jihoon. With one final kiss that lingers longer than it should, you slip out the door and towards the bathroom as Jihoon groans at Jun’s words. 

“I get it. Have you seen my sister?” Jun swallows hard at the direct question, his elbow leaning awkwardly against the wall to block Jihoon when you open the door, slipping out only to open the bathroom door causing your brother to raise a brow. 

“Nah…why? She ain’t out there?” Raising his brow again, Jihoon scoffs, reaching up to pull Jun’s arm from the wall so he can push past him. It was all a little too suspicious at this point. You were up to something and this knucklehead knew more than he was saying. 

“No, obviously not so buzz off.” His shoulder hitting Jun on the way past him Jihoon starts to push open the dressing room causing Seokmin to take a sharp breath in when you open the bathroom door letting out a small sigh. 

“Jihoon?” His attention moving to you, hand dropping from the door, your brother scoffs glancing around before considering seeing who was in the dressing room again when you speak up. “What are you doing, following me?” 

“Question is, Y/N, what’re you doin?” 

You gesture back to the bathroom as if it should answer his question. Jihoon’s eyes look over your outfit then up to your face to your lips seeing your lipstick slightly smeared. “Yeah, sure and I’m a chump. If I’ve told you once, I've told you a hundred times not to be fooling around with these guys.” 

Narrowing your eyes, you push past your brother in a similar fashion he had pushed past Jun, only for Jihoon to put his hand around your arm pulling you back gently. “Y/N…I say it cause I care about you. I want you taken care of when you find someone to settle down with. Especially depending on who you were locking lips with…you ain’t gonna find that here.” 

Seokmin could hear the conversation moving away from the dressing room. His heart in his throat, he knew that Jihoon wasn’t wrong. He couldn't give you the life that you were already living, much less something better. All he could give you was what he had and his heart, and that you already had. 

Jihoon had walked you back to your seat, his hand moving from your arm so you could sit down. Gesturing to Joshua then your glass he got a nod knowing your drink would be refilled quickly. “Ya mad at me?” 

Your fingers ran over the stem of the flower in front of you as you shook your head no. Your heart is telling you something much different. You wanted to be upset with your brother but you knew he was trying to look out for you. You just wished he could see the same potential in Seokmin that you did. If he only knew it was Seokmin you were seeing and not just one of the randoms he had coming in for a week only to leave a couple of days later after making a couple of bucks. 

“No, Hoon…I’m not mad. Just wanna drink alone for a bit.” That told Jihoon all he needed to know. Leaning down he places a kiss to the top of your head and mutters a short ‘alright’ before he is taking his spot back near the bar, his watchful eyes never leaving you. 

Seokmin was trying to put away the overhead conversation from the club. You were standing in front of him in his apartment, no interruptions, no need to worry about anyone sticking their noses where they didn’t belong. It was just you and him. 

You smile when Seokmin moves behind you, his nose brushing against your neck next to your ear. A soft sound of pleasure slipping from his lips when he takes in a breath of you. You smelled sweet, a bit like apples and cinnamon. It was such a nice break from all that scent of booze and smoke earlier in the night. 

Your fingers slide over Seokmin’s forearm when he pushes his fingers along your lower stomach to pull you back against him. You could feel he wanted you just as much as you wanted him. Leaning your head back on his shoulder, you tilt your head to the side and just like you had hoped, Seokmin’s lips brush over yours gently. 

“Everything about you is too good for me. You know that?” Seokmin was finding it hard not to let his mind wander even with you in his arms, even with your lips so sweetly pressing against his own. When your nails gently scratch over his skin, Seokmin sighs against your kiss, his brows furrowing deep in thought. 

Turning in his arms, you drape your own around Seokmin’s neck looking up at him with curious eyes. “Why do you get to say so?” He couldn’t help but to let out a short, quiet laugh at your words. You were so headstrong, your entire family was like that. He had seen it with Jihoon and clearly when you wanted something you were going to get it. 

“I’m just sayin’, doll. I can only give you my heart…my voice, you know what I make.” His fingers slide along the back of your dress, undoing the buttons of your garment slowly. Each brush of his fingers caused you to take in a breath to steady yourself though you wanted to argue with his words. 

“I can’t buy a nicer place than this…you see what I got. This is probably all I ever have.” Lifting his hands, Seokmin runs the back of his fingers along your throat before dropping them to your shoulders to push your dress down your arms as he speaks. “I can’t give you the life you are living, much less a better one. I can’t put ice and marbles around your neck, as much as I’d like to.” 

The weight of your dress causes it to pool around your feet leaving you in your undergarments in front of a fully clothed Seokmin. He had only bothered to take off his suit jacket and shoes once the two of you had gotten to his place, but even as you stood in front of him feeling so bare you never felt uncomfortable. 

“If you think I care about all that mess, maybe you don’t know me as well as I thought you did Lee Seokmin.” Your words cause the man in front of you to scoff into a smile, one that pulls at his eyes and draws his cheeks a bit higher on his face. Moving your hands back up you start to undo Seokmin’s belt only for him to put his hands over yours and for him to walk you backwards towards his bed. 

Feeling the mattress behind your knees, you sit. your eyes lift to meet his loving gaze as Seokmin reaches one of his hands up to brush over your cheek, thumb tracing your lips slowly. “I know you, just like you know me. I was just saying what’s on my mind.” 

You knew why it was on his mind, mentally cursing your brother and his big mouth while also trying to just enjoy the fact that you were alone with Seokmin. In this apartment you usually didn’t have to worry about your family, about who you were, nothing but Seokmin. 

Moving his hand from yours to his pants, Seokmin lets you finish what you had started, his Adam’s apple moving dramatically as he swallows hard watching you closely. “And I’m just sayin’...why don’t you just make love to me and stop fussing over a bunch of bunk?” 

How could Seokmin say no to that? A grin forms on his lips, his pants falling to the floor at his feet. Seokmin takes another breath lifting his own hands to his shirt to make quick work of it while his eyes follow you moving back on to his bed. 

You were like a dream, some painting that had become real and Seokmin had to shake his head to keep himself moving. “Jesus, you make it hard not to just lose my mind. Ya know that?” Seokmin watches you smile, that pretty grin that drives him mad. You had a pull on him like no other person had in his entire life. 

Dropping his underwear to the floor, Seokmin puts one knee on the bed, reaching a hand out to run it over your leg. His nails scratch lightly over your thigh-highs causing you to bite at your lip until he reaches the end of your chemise. 

His fingers scratch back down your leg to unsnap the top of your stockings from the garter keeping them attached to your chemise. Seokmin’s eyes never leave yours, a warm look of intensity trapped behind them as you feel his fingers run over your leg where your stocking once was. 

“Unwrapping you might be my favorite part of the day…” Your cheeks burn at Seokmin’s words, he was bold with you in this room once the two of you felt comfortable. You enjoyed this side of him, how he would lean to kiss your thigh while his hands worked your other stocking from your leg only for him to move his lips to your now bare leg. 

“I just think you like teasing me Seokmin.” He smiles against your skin, his fingers running back up to your hips where he runs over the silk of your chemise on the way up to your shoulders to pull down the straps almost desperately. “Oh, God…careful. Don’t rip it, baby.” 

You say those words but Seokmin wonders if you mean it. He didn’t know how much your undergarments cost but though he had just said he didn’t have money to spare, he’d figure out a way to buy you more if it meant he could tear them off of you the way he wanted to. “Mm I’m not.” His lips brush over the top of your breast, his hands working the silk down your body as you arch your back then lift your hips allowing him to remove it from you completely. 

When Seokmin drops the final piece of clothing onto the floor he lets his eyes wander over your naked form. From your legs to your face, back down to your breasts, and finally between your legs. “Prettiest dame in the entire city…” 

Your eyes narrow, lifting your leg you push your foot against Seokmin’s chest. A laugh rises in his throat, his hands move to run over your calf to your ankle and back down as he stands in front of you, his cock standing hard and at attention for you. He only breaks eye contact with you long enough to lean and take a single rose from out of a vase next to his bed causing you to lift your brow and bite at your lip. 

“You do this almost every time.” 

“And every time…you like it.” You couldn’t argue with Seokmin when you feel the soft petals brush over your skin when he lightly drags the flower against your inner thigh up to your knee. A quiet moan falls from your lips, your hips lifting towards Seokmin and the flower only for him to pull it away running the rose along your shin, a smirk on his lips. 

“And you thought I didn’t know you. You got some moxie sayin that…” There was amusement in Seokmin’s voice that seemed to trail out into something more sensual when he heard you moan once again. Your own fingers were pressed against your breasts, Seokmin couldn’t take his eyes off of them even as he teased you with the flower letting it brush over your folds only to be taken away. 

You wanted him, you wanted more than the rose. As much as you loved the rose and his teasing you wanted him even more. “Seokmin…please. I love you baby, make love to me like I said.” 

That was his favorite thing to hear you say, that you loved him. It meant more than anything in the world to Seokmin. No amount of money could match the feeling of those words. The rose falls to the bed beside your head and Seokmin lays between your thighs, his lips finally finding yours once again. “Tell me again, just one more time, doll.”

You try to speak but Seokmin’s hand runs along your outer thigh to your knee, his cock brushing against your needy pussy causing you to moan his name instead. “Babe, you sound like a dream come true. Say it again…” 

Moving his hands between your legs, Seokmin slides his fingers between your folds relishing in how wet you were for him. The desperate whimpers falling off your lips were like the best song he had ever heard. Wrapping his hand around his length, Seokmin presses his tip against you and breathes softly against your lips muttering out a soft ‘please’ waiting for you to speak. 

“I love you Seokmin. I love you so much.” As soon as words leave your lips Seokmin slowly pushes into you, taking your breath away. A groan escapes his lips, feeling you clench around him instantly as he works kisses from your lips to your ear where he mutters “I love you too, more than anything in this life” against it. 

He was yours and you were his. That was all that mattered to either of you. At that moment no one’s approval was needed. If he had asked you to run away with him and elope you would have without question. 

Seokmin’s mouth pressed to your jaw, his hand sliding along the other side of your neck up into your hair. His fingers tugging some of the pins loose, letting it fall into his grasp. Seokmin smiled against your skin, his cock buried so deeply inside of you when you let out a low moan of his name feeling overwhelmed. 

Between your soft walls clenching around him, and the drag of his nails against the back of your scalp as he tugged at your hair, Seokmin was overloading your senses. He knew how to make you fall apart for him, every little button to push, every piece of skin to kiss in order to make you his all over again. 

Your nails scratch across his shoulder and Seokmin groans into the crook of your neck. His warm lips pause in their search for more skin so that he can whisper your name. The feeling of his own climax building causing his brows to furrow when he lifts his head to meet your eyes full of love and need. 

Leaning back, Seokmin wraps his arm around your waist pulling you up into his lap. The way he is reaching you so deeply now causes a breathy whine to slip from your lips before Seokmin claims them with his own muttering against them. “You’re my heart and my life, ya know that, doll?” 

Smiling on his lips, your arms wrapping around his neck, you roll down over Seokmin as he thrusts up into you granting yourself a deep groan from his chest. You were seeing stars, your orgasm so close you felt like you were going to burst. “You’re mine, Lee Seokmin.” 

The words seem to push Seokmin over the edge, his brows knitting together as if your words were the most profound speech he had ever heard. His thumbs press against your hips, fingers splay out along your lower back when Seokmin holds you in place before rolling over to his back letting you sit over him. 

He could feel the rose under his back, many flowers had met their end like this. Their petals soon covered the sheet under your bodies but neither of you seemed to care. You were too lost in one another to worry about the bed of roses you had always seemed to create. 

Seokmin’s head falls back, his throat exposed to you while your hands slide along his chest up to his shoulders. Your knees planted on the bed next to his hips you use what strength you have along with his hands lifting you to push yourself over the edge. 

You gasp out Seokmin’s name when your thighs begin to shake, your walls clenched tightly around him as you cum. His head lifts to the sounds of your pretty moans, Seokmin’s eyes never leave you, his hands holding you secure even as his hips meet yours hard and fast. “Oh, baby…so damn pretty. Shit…shit.” 

The words become breathy groans, your eyes open to fall on him getting your turn to watch him fall apart for you. There weren’t many things in the world as beautiful to you as watching Seokmin experience bliss.

His hands hold your hips to the point it's almost painful but you know he would kiss each mark later. Seokmin’s eyes close tightly, a smile forms on his parted lips before his hips stutter hard against yours and you feel his warm release begin to fill you. The feeling is almost enough to send you back over the edge to follow him again causing you to clench and for Seokmin to groan your name. 

“You’re gonna kill me…” Falling onto his chest and into his arms, you relish in the feeling of his long fingers running along your back up to your neck only to continue that path for several minutes. Neither of you are in any rush to move from one another even as he softens completely inside of you, the mixture of his and your cum dripping from you onto his thighs. 

“I’ll just kiss you back to life.” Seokmin laughs against your hair, his breath warm causing a shiver to run through you. You finally whine when he moves your leg and then his sliding from you causing you to feel empty. 

If he could be inside you for the rest of his life he would. He wished that those fancy scientists could figure that one out. Stop wasting their time on other bullshit and figure out the important things like how he could never have to be separated from you and out of this bed. 

“Don’t whine, doll. Gotta get cleaned up and get some food in you. You’ll fall asleep and wake up be sore at me if I don’t. Can’t stand when you are anything but happy.” Seokmin leans back to look at your face, running his finger along the bridge of your nose, a smile crossing his face when you can’t help but to smile at the gesture and his words. 

“Mm, fine but I want a Jack Rose.” You roll from Seokmin letting him slip from the bed, your eyes following him before they fall to the petals now covering the bed. A smirk forming on your lips you gather a few of them rubbing them between your fingers glancing back up to your boyfriend to find him watching you. 

You were a minx and a handful but Seokmin couldn’t help but know that he wanted you for the rest of his life. Watching you play with those rose petals melted Seokmin and made him want to fuck you all over again. Shaking his head, Seokmin grins, lifting his hand to rub the back of his neck at your request as his cock ached slightly just at the sight of you. “One Jack Rose for the dame comin’ right up.” 

Seokmin could never sleep very late into the day. It didn’t matter how long his nights were, even if they were longer with you. He had to have a little daylight in his life. Sitting on his small balcony, the doors open to let in the breeze and so that he could watch you sleeping, Seokmin let the cigarette rest between his fingers as he let the smoke out of his lungs on a slow breath. 

It was a beautiful evening, the sun was even with the horizon but as much as Seokmin wanted to admire that he couldn’t help but sneak peeks of you in his bed. You had started to stir, your fingers reaching out for him like you had so many times when you woke up at his apartment. He watched a frown form on your lips and felt bad instantly, but instead of going to you he decided to watch you for a bit longer, bringing his cigarette back to his lips. 

You knew Seokmin couldn’t be far, your frown didn’t last long when you realized where you were. Arching your back you smile, the sheet sliding down your body to your stomach, a happy sigh escaping your lips as you look around for any sign of him instead landing on the vase of roses. 

Wrapping the sheet around your chest you reach up to take one from its place. Bringing it to your nose takes in the sweet scent that makes you think of Seokmin and how much you love him. Seokmin leans on his elbow watching you run the rose along your shoulder and down your arm much like he had many times before. 

Swallowing hard, he brings the cigarette to his lips one last time to take a draw from it before tossing it away letting the smoke slip from his lips. Your lips were caught between your teeth, your face so bright, cheeks full. You looked so happy. Seokmin’s heart was pounding so hard as he thought to himself that ‘this is what love songs look like.’

Glancing up hearing the floor squeak, you can’t help but to smile seeing Seokmin standing in the balcony doorway, the curtains blowing in the wind, his hand in his pocket. He was still shirtless, pants unbuttoned, his hair only tamed by his fingers. Dropping the rose, you extend your hand for him and he wastes no time taking it, leaning down to press his lips to yours tenderly. 

Both of you knew you wouldn’t have long. Not as long as either of you would prefer before he would have to go to the club, but that wouldn’t stop you from melting into his kiss. That wouldn’t stop Seokmin’s hands from sliding into your hair holding you to him desperately as if you would fly away from him like a bird.

Smiling on his lips, you finally do pull away shaking your head when you hear him sigh. “I love you so much.” You feel his lips pull up, a small kiss brushing against your cheek as Seokmin nods, his hand sliding along the sheet to pull it open. He wanted to touch your skin and you weren’t going to deny him. 

“I love you too. Never wanna leave this bed, doll. Wanna be your husband.” He had said things like that before but it had been in moments of weakness and passion. Both of you had laughed it off knowing you would probably only ever be this. 

“Ask me then.” 

Seokmin’s lips were on your neck, his hand holding your side, his thumb gliding along your soft skin just under your breast when you spoke causing him to freeze. He had to have heard you wrong. Almost afraid to look up, Seokmin kisses your neck again before finally lifting his eyes to yours nervously. “What’d ya say?”

Your fingers rake through his hair, a smile on your lips though you were clearly nervous. “I said to ask me. You wanna be my husband, you gotta ask.” You weren’t the only one he’d have to ask or deal with when it came to this but god if he didn’t want this. 

“I–Y/N? Ya serious?” Seokmin watches you nod, no signs of this being a joke on your face. “What about Jihoon? You know I gotta ask him too. You heard him yesterday, no one in that club…me included is good enough for you. I don’t much disagree with him, you know what I said yesterday. As much as I love you, doll…I can’t give you anymore than what I got.” 

Your fingers tighten in Seokmin’s hair making him sigh out a slow breath. His eyes locked with yours. “I didn’t ask for excuses of why you don’t wanna marry me, Lee Seokmin. So if that’s all you’re gonna give me–” 

Seokmin doesn’t let you finish your sentence, panic rips through him at the idea of you denying him because of his own fear. His lips press to yours, his brow furrowed tightly, you feel how his hand clings at your skin as he mutters against your lips. “God no, I’m sorry. Marry me? Will ya? I’ll figure it out. I’ll rebuild the damn world to make it better if I gotta…just want you to marry me.” 

Your small laugh followed by a gentle kiss to his lips allows Seokmin to calm down. His heart is still beating so hard you can feel it against your body. Lifting your leg, you run your thigh along his hip, a smile on your lips as you nod leaning your head back so you can look at him once again. “You ain’t gotta rebuild nothin’. I love the man I got, just give me that and you got me. ‘Course I’ll marry you.” 

You knew he was right, soon he would have to talk to Jihoon, you both would. He would be furious, not only at Seokmin but mostly with you. Family didn’t lie, at least your family but you had been keeping a lot from him for a very long time, but that could wait. 

Seokmin sighs happily, his head lowering to rest against your breasts. You smile to the feeling of his warm breath against your skin as you close your eyes allowing yourself to push away any thoughts of Jihoon for now. That was a problem for later, this was now and you had your future husband in your arms. 

“I’m just sayin’ I gotta figure out a ring. Something that will look good enough to be on your finger.” 

You can’t help but smile, Seokmin lifting your hand to his lips to press them to the back of your knuckles. His eyes pull slightly at the corners when he meets your gaze, finding you giving him ‘that look’. 

“Somethin’ we can worry about later, babe. I got plenty of rings for now, ‘sides…we still gotta talk to Hoon.” Seokmin sighs beginning to speak, his head nodding as the two of you stand in his dressing room when the door closes causing you both to jump. 

“Yeah, you should’a talked to Hoon a while ago, it seems.” Seokmin’s eyes close to the sound of Jihoon’s voice. There was no way to know how long he had been outside of the door but that didn’t seem to matter anymore. 

Letting go of your hand, Seokmin clears his throat slowly turning to face your brother. “Jihoon, I –” He is cut short by Jihoon’s knuckles meeting his jaw with a loud crack causing you to let out a gasp. 

Seokmin’s first instinct was to fight back, his arms lifting to push Jihoon back, his own fist pulled back ready to make contact with someone he considered not only his boss but his friend. Tears were already on your cheeks as you pushed between them watching Seokmin lower his fist on his own accord. 

“I’m not going to fight you, damn it Jihoon!” Lifting his hand, Seokmin rubs his jaw wincing at the pain that radiates into his neck, turning away from both of you to curse under his breath before speaking louder. “I love her, and I ain’t sorry ‘bout that. So, if that means you gotta throw your fists at me some more, so be it. I’ll take it, I know I went about this all wrong.” 

You weren’t sure who to even give your attention to but when Seokmin groaned in pain, his hand moving over his jaw you couldn’t help but to move to him sliding his hand out of the way so you could look at his face. The skin was already red and you could tell there was some swelling, your brother had always been strong and wasn’t afraid to use his fists when it was needed. Glancing over to him, you watched Jihoon stand stoic, his eyes never leaving you or Seokmin even as your fingers tenderly tried to soothe the man. 

“I should have told you. I know that, alright? You didn’t have to punch him.” Jihoon doesn’t speak, instead he continues to watch as your attention is drawn back to the man in front of you. He watches how you look at him, how Seokmin’s fingers hold your wrist so carefully for a man so much bigger than you. He can see how much you two care about each other but that still didn’t make this okay. 

“Yeah I did. You know I did, and you should’a. We talked about this, Y/N…you know how I feel.” You start to speak but Jihoon lifts his hand moving closer to you and Seokmin, his eyes narrowed. “I think I get the chance to talk a bit, don’t you? I got a lotta catchin’ up to do.” 

Your cheeks were burning, you were angry and embarrassed but you knew he was right. You had hid so much from him. You owed him the chance to speak. Nodding you simply lean against Seokmin, his hand in yours while he also pays close attention to Jihoon trying to to piss him off anymore than he already has. 

“This thing, I dunno how long it’s been goin’ on, but if I had’ta guess it’s been a while.” Scoffing, Jihoon reaches up to pinch the bridge of his nose, the memories of all the times in the past year he had caught you in different scenarios beginning to make complete sense. “All under my damn nose. Maybe I’m the chump, huh?” 

You knew that was rhetorical but you still shrug making Jihoon suck in a breath and reach out his hand to push his index finger into the middle of your forehead playfully. “Don’t push it. You really love this sap?” 

Jihoon watches a smile spread across your lips that even he can’t help but to feel a bit warmer because of. Your eyes lifting to meet Seokmin’s gaze, who presses his lips together trying to hide his own smile. “Yeah, I love him. I wanna marry him, Hoon. He’s mine…don’t want him with nobody else.” 

Wrinkling his nose, Jihoon didn’t know if he liked the sound of all of that. You were better than this, all of this, but of course you had fallen right into the lap of this world. “And you always get what you want, kid.” Sighing loudly, Jihoon looks at Seokmin before narrowing his eyes almost angrily, his hands lifting expectedly. 

Seokmin glanced at you a bit confused before Jihoon sighed, reaching to smack the man’s head as if to knock some sense into him. “You gonna at least ask? Or I could just knock your head off, your choice Seokmin.” 

You couldn’t help but be slightly amused, your brother using similar words that you had when you had brought up Seokmin asking you to marry you earlier in the day. A pained laugh leaves Seokmin’s mouth lifting his head, his mouth opening and closing to stretch his swollen jaw. Nodding he finally meets Jihoon’s eyes, “Yeah, I’mma ask. I really wanna marry your sister, can I please get your blessing to go ahead with that? ‘Cause I may not have much Jihoon but I still plan on making her a very happy woman.” 

Jihoon could see you were already happy, and to him that was already a pretty big step. He had half a mind to say no, to put you both in your place but watching the way you looked at him with your big puppy dog eyes even he had to melt, an annoyed sigh slipping out of his mouth. “You got my blessing. Don’t keep things from me ever again.” 

Moving from Seokmin you cause your brother to groan out another annoyed sound when you wrap your arms around him hugging him tightly. Only Seokmin sees the smile pull at the other man’s lips when he puts an arm around you holding you closely. “Yeah, yeah. Like I said, you always get what you want, kid.” 

Seokmin grins at the scene leaning his head back against the wall, a wave of relief falling over him when you finally move away from Jihoon and back to him, sitting on his leg. He shakes his head feeling a bit shy knowing your brother is still in the room as your lips brush against yours but he doesn’t pull from the kiss, instead he laughs against your lips hearing Jihoon groan once more then the sound of the door shutting. 

“Told you that you were mine, Lee Seokmin.” 

You smirk on his lips, Seokmin’s fingers pushing against your side as he holds you to him. “That you did, and you’re mine, doll.” 

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