summary: You're not only the office sl*t. You're his office sl*t.
tags: CEO!Seokjin x fem!office assistant reader, smut (18+) and some fluff at the end.
warnings: exhibitionism (a lot of these lately), fingering, nicknames, unprotected sex*(don't do this), office sex, bigdick!seokjin, generally perverted, explicit language, brief breast touchin'
a/n: here. To clarify, the whole office has signed a contract regarding the practices of their boss, and they're fully aware and consent to those practices...they're just roleplaying.
-
He inherited the place. Nobody can say shit about what he does in his office.
Everybody knows. Everybody has seen it first hand, and nobody can talk about it because it would get them fired.
You knew Seokjin was a sexual deviant since your first interview. He inappropriately asked you your bra size and smirked at the answer. After that, you were hired on the spot.
You would be his office toy. Literally.
From then on, you were the CEOs bitch. Of course it meant free breakfast and occasionally accompanying him to casual brunch, but it also meant almost constant sex.
It was almost unfair. You had all the qualifications of a proper assistant. You had taken the business management classes in college, passed with flying colors, and, arguably, you were overqualified for the position…but you took the job solely because you had a hunch that the guy who was interviewing you had a massive cock.
He offered to fuck you every single day of the work week.
You couldn't help but stare, longing for it whenever it wasn't inside of you. Your throat gets so bored sometimes when he's on a business call, so you'll sneak in under his desk and mouth at him until he releases it for you to suck.
There are always more intense circumstances, too. This morning, you are on his lap while he's doing some random paperwork when he decides to slide his cool fingers into your panties and tease you.
Just then, he gets a call from the secretary.
Annoyed, he rolls his eyes as his middle finger presses the answer button. "Yes," he huffs. "Send him right over. He did sign the consent form, correct?"
"Yes sir, and he read it carefully. He's okay with it, no worries," she replies.
Jin drags his hand to your thigh and grabs a handful of it. "Mmm," he hums. "Okay. Send him up."
The client appeared moments later with his suit and his briefcase. His most notable feature at the time was the shock on his face when he first realized Seokjin was swirling his fingers on your wet cunt as he greeted him.
"Welcome. I take it you have the data I need," he says, casually.
"Yes, uhm,, sir…" His face is completely red and he struggles to keep his eyes up at his own boss.
Jin raises an eyebrow as if he has no idea what's wrong. "What's wrong? Do you not have all the data?"
Meanwhile his hands spread you further. You lean back on your boss' chest, breathing heavy as you take his slender feelings deeper within you. "Hh~ aahhh," you breathe.
The client removes a paper from the front pocket of his suitcase with a shaking hand and hands it over to Jin. "Here you are."
"Ah!" He smiles. "Great."
He pumps them in and out of you languidly, causing you to nearly buck up toward his palm. Your shirt is torn open in the middle from when he was playing with your tits, both of them misplaced and visible to his guest.
"Fuck~! Fuck, Jin…" you beg.
He shuts his eyes and smirks before continuing the interaction. "Yeah...continue...what about Friday's meeting?"
"It's all being taken care of. I have an excellent team of people handling the project and it's well underway," the client's look of confusion transforms to one of arousal and intrigue. He swallows.
Right then, Seokjin brings his other hand to release his cock and starts casually grinding it against your barely clothed pussy. You stretch the cloth separating you and cling it over his tip, moaning softly.
"Do we have all the stats on that, then?" He asks, not paying the slightest bit of attention to your state.
"Yes, sir," the client says, finally.
Jin glances down at the man's slacks and the bulge straining them. "You can take care of that in one of our rooms," he speaks in a lower voice.
The man nods, compliantly.
"Thank you. We're done here."
You're burning up and he knows it, but it's only a matter of time before he starts guiding your hips down on him quicker, congratulating you on your performance in quite the unconventional way. "Fucking slut. You see how you got him hard like that? You enjoyed it every bit as much as I did."
"You can't help yourself, can you? All you do is whine for my dick every time I step into this office. All you want is to show them how much of an office whore you are. I love using you." Jin groans in your ear, forcing your back against his chest.
You kiss his skin, feeling your pussy stretch so good for his fat cock. He's incredibly big, so it's always so satisfying to feel it fill you out properly.
With broken thrusts, he snaps into your dripping cunt, making a mess out of his suit. His hands hold your tits while his lips suck adoring hickies on your neck. "That's my good toy…" he thrums.
You quiver, anticipating your third and most intense orgasm of the day. Jin positions you on his desk and begins pistoning his dick into you. God, you love being owned like this.
"Cum around it." He demands, his thighs flush against your own. "Cream on it."
Who are you to disobey his orders? Your orgasm rips through you rather violently as Jin squirts his thick cum inside of you. You flutter around him, gasping quietly at the feeling of being used and ruined by him.
You hum in satisfaction, enjoying the feeling of having him inside you as he scratches your back.
Seokjin is a careful lover. Afterwards, he is sure to clean you up with kindness, bring you a new change of clothes, and something good to eat.
He needs new clothes, himself, so it really isn't a problem. What he hasn't mentioned is how lovely your conversation has been to him, lately…about how it might be– no, it absolutely is more than just sex between you.
So…he will muster up the courage to ask you out today. For now, though, he's taking care of you the only way he can.
𝔰𝔶𝔫𝔬𝔭𝔰𝔦𝔰: In which Seokjin is the Devil from The Devil Wears Prada, Taehyung is your work Jesus and Jimin is your handsome successful brother.
𝔭𝔞𝔦𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰: seokjin x reader (taehyung x reader if you squint real hard)
𝔤𝔢𝔫𝔯𝔢: slice of life; ceo!seokjin (diva!seokjin)
𝔴𝔠: 3.6k
𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰: heavy use of alcohol as a coping mechanism, a plethora of sarcasm (please don’t be offended) and a sprinkle of softness (is that a warning?).
𝔞/𝔫: this sat in my unwritten folder since 2017 no lie. I wrote the premise and a singular paragraph at that time, then just gave up. I opened it a few days ago, got inspired again and this word vomit came out (heavily influenced by a midnight Zoom call with my friends). Ngl this was so much fun to write, and I hope you all enjoy it as much as I did. This will probably be in three parts.
𝔡𝔦𝔰𝔠𝔩𝔞𝔦𝔪𝔢𝔯: I did not know that DailyHive is an actual online news source when writing. This work is purely fictional and has absolutely nothing to do with the real DailyHive.
part two
Your friends have a saying: After 29, nobody shares their age until they’ve accomplished something.
In the past, you didn’t understand it. What’s so bad about saying you’re 30 or you’re 32? That’s still a young age! Sure, you’re not exactly in your prime anymore but you’re not old, right?
So, you continue in your own wondrous world of naïveté until that fateful day at your class reunion. You had simply been walking around, minding your own business when you had been stopped by an old colleague.
“Hey, Y/N, right?” she waves you down.
You smile kindly, not even bothering to try and remember her name (you sucked at names, what could you say).
“Hey…you!” you chuckle lightly, “How have you been doing?”
An everyday question leading to catastrophic effects.
“Oh you know,” she says and rolls her eyes as if you truly did know, “I’ve just been out and about. Did I tell you though? I got married last year!” She holds out her hand in which a giant diamond adorns her finger.
“Wow!” you gasp, feigning interest. It’s not that you aren’t happy for her, but you are reminded of just how single you are currently. When was the last time you felt another human’s touch? Does kissing come back as easily as riding a bicycle?
“Hey!” she says suddenly, “I’m actually meeting with a couple of friends from our class. You should come join! I’m sure they’d be happy to see you again!”
You want to wave her off, but against your better judgment, you find yourself following in her footsteps and listening to her speak about wedding venues and honeymoon destinations.
“Oh my god!” another female voice filters in.
The “couple of friends” this old classmate had mentioned is in fact a fairly impressive size of twenty. This is also the third time the wedding announcement has been made.
“Last year?” the female continues, “Weren’t you young?”
Yes, you want to respond. Yes she was young. A full 365 days younger than she is now.
Your classmate, Sooyoung (or Kiko as she insists going by now) titters in front of you. “I mean, you can sort of say I’m a late bloomer. I got married when I was 31.”
Her words unintentionally cut into you. Here you are at 29 without a beau in sight. You take a fast swig of your beer and end up hitting the empty glass with a clink to your teeth. Nobody notices.
“Enough about me, however, how about you?”
“I started my own business actually. It’s been doing really well and it’s been a crazy mind. Imagine me, my own boss at only 33!”
You nervously join them when they suddenly laugh together.
“Hi, can I get another pint please? Actually add a tequila shot to that,” you whisper the last part to the waitress you had just stopped.
And that was how the rest of the night went. People asking one another what they had accomplished. Any moment in time after 30 would not be mentioned until somebody travelled to Uganda to build houses at 31 or another gave birth at the same age. Below 30, anything would be attributed to luck or in your case…
“What are you doing currently?” somebody asks you, “The little baby of our class.”
Swallowing your third tequila shot of the night, you wonder for the umpteenth time how you had become a part of this giant sharing circle. You wonder if it’s a blessing or a curse that you had graduated a little early and thus was younger than most of your peers.
“Well,” you start, “I’m currently working at DailyHive.”
“Ohh!” a man gushes. You recognize him as the once-upon-a-time science partner you used to cheat notes off of. “I use DailyHive nearly as much as Instagram these days. You guys cover everything from news to sports to fashion.”
You shrug. “Yeah. It’s, uh… it’s a pretty big company!”
“What are you doing there?”
Kiko-ex-Sooyoung hits the man teasingly on the shoulder. “Y/N is probably the Director of Marketing or something. Remember how she used to spend all class doodling in her notebook?”
“Or sleeping!” someone quips.
You don’t join in when they all laugh.
“I’m…an intern,” you say with as much pride as you can in a group of established professionals ranging from dermatologists to that one guy who had flown around the world as a TedTalk guest speaker.
A hushed silence befalls everyone.
“That’s…cool!” the same man encourages you, “Interns are totally rad! Everyone wants an intern spot these days.”
His girlfriend pats your arm, almost empathetically. “Yeah. I know a bunch of people who first start off as interns and then they shoot up the ladder quick enough. As long as you’re no longer an intern at 30, you’re golden!”
Once again, the entire group laughs as if she has said the most hilarious of jokes.
She composes herself and says to you, “Because after that, you should have accomplished something.”
Her words still ring in your ears as you sit at your desk this morning.
Yeah…something. All you need to do is accomplish something in the next three months before you are officially, 29 + 1.
Your fingers tap against your thighs silently while you observe the current debate that is occurring in the conference room. You barely have time to sweep the falling hair back behind your ear as your fingers ferociously fly across the keyboard to keep in track with the meeting.
Fei is arguing that the implement of a new search word system would boost users while Daniel says that it is a waste of resources. Instead, everything should be put into updating the entire system as a whole. You have long since lost track of their words as neither pertain to what you do as an intern.
“Enough,” the CEO of DailyHive holds up a hand. His one word causes the entire room to hush over – truly, the words of a god.
And that might as well be what he is. With his hair swept back and a lone tendril curling perfectly above his brow, Kim Seokjin is legitimately a walking god. Off his broad shoulders hang an expensive white linen suit bought with his pocket change and your yearly salary. A pair of sunglasses hangs in the V of the collared shirt dipping low enough to blur the lines between being fashionably professional and just downright sexy.
The snap of his fingers brings you back to the present.
He dramatically rolls his eyes and accepts that you are an incompetent minute-taker.
“I have to remember that the world just doesn’t move as fast as I do.”
- Quote: Rolling Stones 2019 Kim Seokjin.
Now if only he’d remember he had once said that.
He points at each of them with one finger, then swipes to the left. “Both of you, solve this outside. I don’t want to hear your voices any longer. You two from the marketing team, Ungroomed Stache and Acne Chin, create me a report if we are to implement Ms. Song’s idea. The two of you from…” he takes a pause here clearly having forgotten who his employees are, “The two of you do the same thing but for Mr. Hwang.”
The pair from accounting open their mouth to protest that they are in charge of only numbers, but they are ignored.
“All of you out now. Except you,” he points his finger directly at you, “Stay.”
Nobody utters a single word until they have all left and you are left alone with him. Standing before him with your hands folded nicely in front of you, you blink and wait.
He stares right back at you, picks up his coffee mug and drops it. The clatter of ceramic smashing against the ground causes a pause in the loud buzz outside the room. You know everybody’s focus has been shifted into the room.
“Do you want to kill me?” he drawls.
You take a long inhale. “No,” you say.
“No?” he repeats the word, “Well I think you do. Did you check this coffee before you brought it to me? I tasted cinnamon in it. You know how I’m allergic to cinnamon. Get me a new cup. And this mess, get somebody to clean it. I don’t want the smell of coffee in this room when I have my next meeting here in twenty. I’m taking a smoke a break.”
He stands up and brushes past you without saying anything else.
Nobody can be allergic to cinnamon. Besides if he had actually tasted cinnamon and was that sensitive, he would be dead. And good riddance to that.
Of course, you say none of this and wordlessly begin to pick up the broken ceramic pieces of the dead mug. The bustling outside the meeting room has returned back to its normal state of chaos. Seeing the ugly stain of coffee on the once pristine carpet causes you to swear beneath your breath.
“Who the fuck is allergic to cinnamon?” a new voice says, sliding up beside you.
The second god in DailyHive; the much nicer and evidently preferred Kim; Taehyung takes the mug pieces from you and drops it into the garbage bin.
Blessed with not only intelligence but devilishly model-like features, he is your desk buddy in the small space allotted for interns and your sole friend in the company.
“Tae,” you sigh with exasperation upon seeing your lifesaver, “What am I going to do about this stain? He’s going to return in fifteen and there’s no way I can get a coffee stain out of this expensive-ass carpet.”
Taehyung taps a long finger to his lips, leaves the room briefly, and returns with a roll of Bounty sheets and a can of Febreze. He promptly blots as much of the coffee off from the carpet then proceeds to pull the meeting table.
“C’mon, Y/N, don’t just stand there. Help me! Time is of the essence!”
You laugh and join him in moving the table so that one of the legs cover the stain 80% of the way. Once he is satisfied, he takes the Febreze and sprays until the whole room smells like “Hawaiian Aloha”.
“You’re welcome.” He gives an extravagant bow, the motion popping open the top button of his shirt to expose a surprisingly chiseled chest.
Fei returns back into the room holding a phone to her ear and a clipboard in her left hand. “What the hell? It smells like a Bath & Body Works in here. Intern, aren’t you supposed to be filing or something? Stop standing around and be useful.” She grips Taehyung’s arm and drags him out of the room. “Button up. This is a professional workplace.”
You give him a tiny wave as Taehyung is steered away by his girlfriend and back to the cubicles.
Taehyung may be your saviour at work, but outside, it cannot be denied that your brother is the true Fountain of Life.
A week has passed since the coffee incident (you suspect a cleaning personnel had found the stain and cleaned up after your improv as aforementioned stain can no longer be found), but Jimin still brings it up.
“I still can’t believe that he said he was allergic to cinnamon. I’ve never heard of such bullshit before,” your brother says over the phone. You can practically hear his eyeroll from across the world.
As a renowned ophthalmologist, you have not seen Jimin for close to a year as he has been initiating his new clinic, a flying eye hospital.
“You should hear his Starbucks order. I always feel like I’m ready to launch my next EP whenever I’m at the counter,” you say.
Jimin laughs. There is the muffled sounds of voices as his never-ending flow of patients have arrived for the day.
“I shouldn’t keep you,” you say upon hearing that, “You’re probably really busy.”
“No,” he says, “I’ve got a few minutes if you’ve got a few. I miss talking to my baby sister.”
“I’m not a baby anymore, Jiminie,” you say using the nickname he hated.
“Oh that’s right. Your birthday’s in a little under three months, right? My baby sister is turning the big three-oh.”
“God, don’t remind me.”
“Want me to come visit you?”
You contemplate the idea once, having not seen Jimin in quite a while.
“Only if you have time. But I feel like Mom and Dad would probably want to see you more. Speaking of which, um… How are Mom and Dad?”
“They’re good. I hear Dad is finally going to retire this year. He’s giving his practice to Kibum, you remember him? Mom will probably start pestering us about what to do for his retirement party.”
There is a pause.
“You know, it wouldn’t hurt to say hi to them once in a while.”
You sigh. “And say what? Hey, it’s me. The child that ran away from home at 18? Yeah, I’m not a doctor like everybody else in the family but a 29 year old intern at a popular app company. Whassuuup?”
“Y/N, that’s not what I – ”
“It’s okay, Jimin. I’ve come to accept that not everybody is cut out to be a doctor. I just wish Mom and Dad could realize that.”
Jimin sighs on your behalf. There is the sound of a crying child coming through the earphone. “Well, your contract expires a few weeks after your birthday, right? Who knows, you might be the next Mark Zuckerberg.”
He has never explicitly inquired about your life plan and you know this is as much as he is willing to push without asking, “What’s next after this intern hiccup?” At least he had the decency to compare you to a controversial Internet entrepreneur.
The child is crying much louder now.
“Again with my birthday. But I’ll let you know,” is the only reply you can come up with at the moment. “Okay, brother, go forth and heal the blind. I bless thee in the name of the Holy Spirit, Son and Ghost.”
There is true laughter that rings from Jimin as he ends the call. “It’s Father, Son and Holy Ghost you dweeb. I love you sis.”
“You too.” You hang up first before he can add anything else.
With that, you enter into the 7am Starbucks queue and prepare yourself in running the first single of your long overdue EP.
Seokjin leans back in his chair, watching you from inside his office. Today he has chosen a black turtleneck and a brazen maroon-nearly purple suit jacket to complete the outfit. For once, there is an empty mug of coffee beside him and his morning headache has been appeased.
He knew he had given you an impossible task.
“Compile all the troubleshooting errors we have received since the launch of DailyHive. Organize it in a manner that allows me to identify the most prominent problem. Run it through whomever you please before giving it to me. I don’t need to waste my time correcting your mistakes.”
There is an amused smile that bubbles beneath his otherwise stoic features. He cannot deny that there is, might he dare say, a cute quality about you as you manually scan through the received concerns on your laptop dating back to the initial beta tests – the ones that were lost in a data crash and only backed up with unintelligible scribblings of previous interns.
The moment you had been introduced as the new intern, you had caught his eye. You are exquisitely mundane, and perhaps the reason you had even caught him the first time was due to solely to the fact that you were older than most interns – himself even. Nevertheless, you continue to present him small surprises in your tenacity and capability to tackle challenges.
“Mr. Kim.”
His intercom comes alive with the voice of his secretary.
Seokjin’s eyes do not leave you as he answers.
“Mr. Hwang is on line two. Would you like me to defer him to a later time if you are currently busy?”
Seokjin cannot help but sigh. Hwang Junho, his co-founder, while a genius in international business is also a notorious chatterbox and gossip. There is seldom a reason for Junho to call him except to relay the cover titles of E!Magazine.
“Did he mention a reason for calling?” Seokjin inquires.
His secretary seems to be reading from a note. “He says it’s to do with the company. Something he read from Cosmopolitan this morning.”
So not E! but another sister celebrity gossip blog. He checks his watch and duly notes that he certainly has no meetings scheduled until later in the afternoon where your report would be needed to run a preliminary analysis.
“Sir?”
“Yes, put him through. But tell him I’ve got only five minutes, so he’s better give me the Cliffnotes version,” Seokjin sighs again.
Before he can be connected, Seokjin quickly says, “What’s the name of that intern again?”
“Who?” his secretary asks, “We’ve hired four since the beginning of the year.”
“The one who keeps wanting to poison me.”
“I’m sorry, Sir?” she sounds concerned.
“The one who keeps forgetting that I despise cinnamon.”
There is no response.
“The older one. Spilled coffee a while ago but still has enough coordination to pull together a decent report.”
“Ah,” she says.
He waits patiently as she searches through the database, eventually giving him your name. He gives a slight pause and then says, “Good. Now patch me with Junho.”
There is a momentary buzz as the call becomes connected in which Seokjin turns over the syllables of your name wordlessly.
“Mr. Kim. The man of the hour. How are you, my brother?” Junho’s baritone fills the office in a manner of seconds.
Despite the little annoying quirks, Seokjin cannot help but smile when hearing the voice of his best friend.
“You’ve got three minutes, Junho.”
Junho grumbles. “That’s not my fault. You were the one still on the line with your secretary. Is it still Yerin? ‘Cuz I won’t blame you if that’s the case. Did I catch you doing some naughty phone sex during office hours?”
“Two.”
“Holy hell. Fine. It’s always business with you. That’s why the tabloids are always writing you as an uptight asshole.”
This shifts Seokjin’s attention to the phone. His name is seldomly mentioned except for the features in business columns. He prefers to stay out of the limelight.
“What?”
“Put your name on Google.”
Seokjin does as he is told.
There are millions of results, but the first few pages share the same headline. He clicks on the first one with a grimace.
“Kim Seokjin. Mr. Worldwide Handsome as noted by his fans, has recently sparked Internet outrage.”
A quick skim of the otherwise trashy article brought to the surface a summary: his last dating scandal had ended badly and the repercussions of blowing off a famous celebrity’s daughter had finally caught up with him. The Internet was calling him arrogant, narrow-minded, and even greedy.
“The young Chief Executive Officer of booming social media app DailyHive has been accused of using his relationship with actress XYZ to further his own business. Once he gained recognition from aforementioned relationship, he has cold-heartedly cast her away to pursue his next.”
“You’re calling me for this bullshit?” Seokjin scoffs.
Junho tuts his tongue loudly. “This is not bullshit. It’s affecting the image of your company. Do you think people want to download and support an app that is run by somebody who is being called cruel and dishonest? You’ve got to address this soon before it gets out of control. You’re lucky I have alerts set for these type of things. I caught it for you just in the nick of time.”
Seokjin inhales deeply.
“You’re also lucky that I’ve got the perfect solution in mind.”
“That is?”
“The Silver Gala,” Junho references the prestigious event.
The Silver Gala is hosted annually and attended by the largest celebrities as well as other wealthy investors and guests. Those in the social circle shared between Seokjin and Junho often yearned for tickets to attend events such as this, as they serve as excellent networking opportunities. Besides the above, such events are circled by reporters and writers of gossip columns to get the exclusive scoop on any eyebrow-raising rumours.
“The solution lies in such an event,” Junho continues, “You know how many people will be there. All you’ve got to do is show up with your average girl-next-door type and it’ll show how you’re actually really humble and down to earth. Kim Seokjin is perfectly capable of dating like any regular human being. He doesn’t use “love” or whatever to further his business. Love is the connection between two souls; two individuals who – ”
“Beep. Your time has run out Junho. I’ve got another meeting scheduled right this moment,” Seokjin interrupts.
“Dude, seriously. Think about it. You could bring Yerin. Everbody loves a good CEO and his secretary affair. And if that’s too juicy for you, I can introduce you to some girls. Or maybe we could go back to our university days and hit a bar, y’know?” Junho tries his best to persuade.
“Fuck!” you swear beneath your breath right as you walk into Kim Seokjin’s office. His door had been open and, in your excitement to show your completed report, you had dropped all the loose papers on the ground. Four hours of organization gone, just like that. You hope that at least Seokjin hasn’t heard or noticed you as he had been engrossed in his phone call.
Seokjin had in fact noticed you. He can’t help himself but follow the curvature of your bare shoulder as your bangs escape the hold of your scrunchie and sweep across your skin.
“Don’t worry, Junho, I’ve just thought about it,” he says with a smile.
✉ summary : in which, a single mother tries desperately to find friends for her son (that are his own age), and in the midst of her search, finds five exceptional babysitters, a soulmate, and perhaps something more?
✉ pairings : ceo!seokjin x single mom!reader
✉ a/n : hello! welcome to my new smau :) please don’t be afraid to comment or anything!! i love hearing your thoughts! thank you!! 🖤
"Its no problem princess" he smiled gently and watched her take a sip. "I'm glad you like it" he smiled but glanced down at the bottle to memorise the brand. Now that the truth was out, Seokjin could spoil her without having to worry about his cover. Kissing her neck he smiled and held her close, just to enjoy her presence.
Seokjin nodded and listened to her. He genuinely and wholeheartedly wanted their marriage to work out. Granted that at the start Seokjin was pretending to like her. But after hours after hours of talking to her and getting to know her he couldn't help but fall in love with her small quirks. "I promise we'll spend a lot of time together regularly. We can go out for lunch, or I can take shorter days." He offered. "Whats happened to those people is awful but I promise you that it'll never happen to us. We'll enjoy life with our ten kids" he joked. "I love you too darling. And if you want I can write it down?" He teased.
Smiling down at her Seokjin chuckled as he knew she could see right through him. "Hmm you're an angel" he smiled. His smile widened as she left gentle kisses on his lips. Chasing her lips he kissed her back gently as many times as she had. However his face contorted into pleasure as a low moan escaped his lips. Licking his lips Seokjins hands found their way to her hips. "Fuck" he whispered as she began to stroke him. "You're dangerous baby" he joked. Hissing softly as she finally went down on him, Seokjins grip tightened on her waist. "I can never get used to how tight your pussy is, princess" he smiled and peppered kisses along her jawline.
Moaning as she shifted, he only nodded. Laying eyes on her innocent expression he couldn't help but twitch inside her. She was too dangerous for his health. Glancing down at her hand, Seokjin smirked. "Aww darling" he cooed and placed his palm over the bulge but gently pressed down on it.
"Fuck" he whispered trying not to thrust up into her to make her a crying mess on his cock. "You looked so pretty today baby." He smiled and cupped her breasts. His fingers pinched the sensitive buds and he cooed, "so pretty." Leaning down he gently sucked on her nipple to bring her pleasure.
•━»•»🌸«•«━━━━━━━━•••
I smiled at Seokjin, feeling at ease with his promises. I felt confident now that we could go forward with our relationship. I took deep breaths, trying to relax and calm the growing excitement; with him filling me up, I couldn’t help but pulse around him. “Ohh–” I gasped when he pressed down at the swell of his cock in my lower belly. “You’re stirring me up inside,” I whispered. “I can already feel everything…” Every vein and every ridge of his cock; my cheeks grew warm and I couldn’t help but shift again, releasing a little mewl from the friction. My fingernails digging into his shoulders, I leaned back to give him more access as he played with my breasts. “Mmm… I’m glad… I want you to find me pretty… and love every part of me, Jinnie…” Overwhelmed by pleasure, I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him hungrily. My breasts pressed against his chest and my belly against his firm stomach, heightening the sensation of him inside me. I moaned against his lips, and pressed even closer against him.
↳ part one of the: (not) the love of my life series
pairing. ceo!seokjin x hotelier!reader (female)
genre. arranged marriage au // humour with a dash of fluff and sprinkle of angst (mayhaps future smut?)
word count. 4,8k
summary. after losing ownership of your hotel to the satan-spawned ceo-to-be, kim seokjin, you are forced by the powers that be (your parents) into marrying him. you agree under the assurance that you won’t be out of job, but with the title of manager instead of owner. as it turns out, he has other plans and approaches you with a proposal that’s hard to refuse.
note. a cliché, overused trope? check. a series with (maybe) no plot and is just about jin as a billionaire ceo? check. this was initially supposed to be a sequel, but i couldn’t follow it up with the same ambience and mood, so i decided to leave the drabble [as a standalone] and write a spin-off instead. this has been in my drafts for the longest time, so i’m excited to share to you a series that literally nobody asked for.
warning-but-not-really. not all corporate ceos are as chilled out as jin will be portrayed here. may give you high expectations of literally some of the worst people on this planet lmao also purely self-indulgent! read at your own risk tbh
the proposal | the first date | the ceo’s keeper | the engagement
The premise was simple.
Get married so you can keep running your hotel business or refuse and lose everything to the man your parents have personally hand-picked to become the owner.
Scratch that.
The man your parents sold your hotel to, thus making him the newly appointed owner.
Choosing the latter and having your freedom would mean giving up your hard-earned company to the lousy billionaire’s first-born son, who happened to own half the hotels in metropolitan Seoul.
The Kims.
Notorious for their enormous amount of wealth, their class, and having three strapping young men for sons who knew nothing else, but privilege handed to them in a silver platter.
Despite growing up in a well-off family, you’ve always taught yourself that independence and hard work was the key to success. You distanced yourself as much as you could from your parents’ money, stuck it out for four years in college, and graduated with a degree. Running the hotel full time while attempting to finish your master’s in business administration part-time had been the theme for the past year. Until your parents dropped the bomb on you.
Words like, do you really think you had full ownership of that run-down hotel of yours and we had to sell, or we’ll go under had been thrown around. As if keeping the secret of having a huge amount of debt would make you feel better about seeing your hotel assimilated into Kim Hotels. Not only would you lose ownership, but you knew that you were bound to get fired, if not demoted. It usually came with the change of proprietor.
Conveniently enough, the Kims had other plans. Their current CEO, Seokjin’s father, agreed to let you keep working as the hotel manager instead of the owner, which is honestly miles better to you than being jobless. But it came with a hefty price: you were to marry their oldest son, Kim Seokjin. They drove a hard bargain, and you found yourself agreeing. You loved the hotel more than anything you’ve ever owned; having to pour your heart and soul into making it worth being proud of. And you were. That’s why hearing your parents say that it was in debt felt gut wrenching.
Initially, you tried to get a hold of him, hoping you could convince him to re-think the situation. You thought perhaps the media had been wrong about him, and all the talks of him being a calculating corporate shark was a lie. Maybe he would let you work as the manager without having to marry him. But the COO of Kim Hotels refused to meet with you, despite hearing from your parents that he’d been “more than willing” to be married to you.
You scoffed at their baseless statement. Seokjin had a reputation for taking women to bed one night before leaving them to dust by the next morning. As if selling his soul to the devil in order to be worth billions of dollars wasn’t enough; of course, he was sleeping around as well. You weren’t one to judge anybody’s lifestyle choices, but you were sure that someone in that calibre wouldn’t agree to be wed to a person they hardly knew just because. There was something in your gut that told you there was more to the agreement than a simple arranged marriage.
Or maybe the feeling in your gut was due to the bad pasta you had.
“Good evening, Ms. Hwang.”
You’re greeted by Mr. Park, the doorman as soon as you enter the lobby, cradling a piping hot tea you hoped would alleviate the stomach cramps you were having. His smile gave away his old age, wrinkles dotting the corner of his eyes and the lines in his cheeks. You returned the gesture.
“How was your dinner?”
“Ugh, don’t remind me,” you laughed softly, shrugging away your coat without spilling your drink. “I’m never eating out ever again. Please tell me Yoongi is in.”
He nodded, gesturing to the entrance not too far from the lobby. You bid him good night and head to the restaurant in the hotel, which was sparse with customers. Friday nights were usually teeming with life and excitement, but unfortunately business had been relatively slow all week. The worry pooled deep in your stomach – as if you needed any more ratification that your hotel needed to be bought, or you’ll close down.
“Yoongi! I need your cure-all soup,” you called out as soon as you sat on the barstool, propping your tote on the table. Jungkook waved at you from the far end of the bar, concocting a drink for the eager gentleman waiting in front of him. Yoongi popped his head out from the kitchen’s double doors to scowl at you but was met with your beaming smile.
He returned several minutes later with your request and you quietly thank him.
“Bad date?” he asked, wiping his palms over his well-worn apron. Jungkook had inched closer by this time, mindlessly wiping the area beside you.
You nodded. “And terrible food. I should’ve just asked him to take me here to Grigio instead.”
Yoongi raised his brows, but a grin was threatening to burst from his lips. “Why didn’t you?”
“He insisted on going to that posh new restaurant that just opened last week. Said it took months to book and he couldn’t just cancel on a whim,” you rolled your eyes, carefully blowing cold air into your steaming soup.
“This is why I told you to stop looking around,” Yoongi leaned into the counter, studying your expression.
“It’s cuffing season,” you joked. “Blame social norms for my behaviour.”
He gave you an impassive stare, before sighing. “You’re literally cuffed already.” He said, followed by a quiet, “I still can’t believe you’re getting married soon.”
You waved your right hand nonchalantly before lifting the spoon to your lips. You moaned as soon as the flavour filled your senses.
“Did you know you’re the best chef ever?”
“It’s just chicken noodle soup,” he said drily.
“Exactly! The simplest meal yet you manage to bring out so many spices at once.” He rolled his eyes at your attempt to boost his ego. Either way it was true; for you, nothing beat Yoongi’s cooking, no matter how simple he thought the meal was.
You forgo the tea and asked Jungkook for a bottle of white wine. “Nothing fancy — Les Capriades is fine. I heard they came in last month, and I have yet to try them.”
He nodded at your instructions before disappearing off to the back to find your drink.
“Stop avoiding the topic, Y/N,” Yoongi rested his chin in the palm of his hand.
“I’m not avoiding anything,” you stated confidently, yet you couldn’t meet his gaze. “The devil incarnate himself refuses to see me. I guess I’ll have to meet him at the altar.”
“Three weeks from now,” Yoongi said, almost exasperated.
“Until then, I’ll enjoy my freedom.”
“What freedom?” Yoongi scoffed, rounding the table to slide into the seat next to you. Jungkook returned with your promised bottle and your eyes beamed with excitement before quietly thanking him. “You didn’t even date around before any of this marriage circus happened.”
You agreed with the “circus” part and ignored the indirect jab. Besides not having a say in any of the planning for your wedding, your supposed fiancé refused to introduce himself when you tried to reach out multiple times.
Okay, perhaps it wasn’t multiple times. You called his office when your parents broke the news to you a week ago, but his assistant said he was busy with a meeting and that you should call back. You didn’t, and that was the end of it. You’ve been putting off trying again, but it’s been a week and he hasn’t contacted you back either.
Maybe it was mutual disdain; if one of you was testing the other to break, you didn’t want the first to be you. It already felt undignified to be marrying someone for the sake of keeping a semblance of ownership to your hotel, so you weren’t about to grovel and demand to be spoken to when it seemed like he wasn’t willing to spare you a second of his time.
Yoongi chatted for a bit before he had to go back to work, so you were left to pull out your laptop from your tote. For the next few hours you immersed yourself into finances, staring at the excel spreadsheet displayed on the screen far longer than was medically allowed. Surely, you’ll go blind before you see your hotel overcome the negative deficit you were in.
“See you tomorrow, Ms. Hwang,” Jungkook thrummed his fingers on the table as he passed by. You looked up in time to see him mime something unintelligible. Your brows raised in confusion.
“Your glasses,” he laughed quietly, fingers hovering close to your cheek. You mumbled a quiet oh, before pushing the rim higher until it settled snugly against your nose bridge.
“Thanks.” You sighed, tipping your head to one side. After feeling the satisfying pop! you turned back to Jungkook with a grin. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
You slumped back to your work as soon as Jungkook was out of sight. Glancing at the clock on the corner of your laptop, it blinked 00:37, which automatically caused you to yawn. Yoongi should be out soon, so you willed yourself to stand up and prop the close sign by the entrance.
From where you stood, you could see the lobby clearly, as well as the spinning doors of the hotel entrance. A few patrons trickled in, no doubt coming in from their busy day, and filed sluggishly to the elevators where it would take them up their floors.
That was the most fulfilling part of being a hotelier to you. The satisfaction of giving people a comfortable stay, whether they were mere tourists or locals wanting a getaway from their normal life. It certainly isn’t as posh and sleek as the Kim Hotel with their towering glass buildings and boring black, white, and grey colour palettes. But what you had was something you were proud to consider your home, with the vibrant earth tones of the walls and furniture, as well as the rich velvet tapestry draped along the ornate windows. High ceiling chandeliers peppered the lobby, casting an ambience of warmth and security without lacking luxury.
“‘Night, Y/N.” Yoongi clasped your shoulder, startling you out of your mini daydream. “Stop using my restaurant as your office, will you?”
You mustered a small grin. “Bye, Yoongles. Drive safe.”
Yoongi turned to you as his face contorted violently. “I hate that nickname.”
“Love you too!” You called out as he exited through the revolving door before placing your hand down with a sigh. Back to work. You were about to turn and go back to your forgotten laptop when the door welcomed in another guest.
With bated breath you watched the man stalk towards you, eyeing you dangerously as if you were his prey. His midnight black suit made him look slim but highlighted his broad shoulders all the same. You were arrested at the spot, unable to look away and felt as if you’ve been robbed of oxygen. The more he stepped closer, the more unclear your thoughts became.
It’s not as if you hadn’t seen the man. He often appeared on several business magazines — gossip tabloids more so. Yet there was something different about seeing him in person, in front of you, in your hotel.
No. His hotel.
“Ms. Hwang. I was hoping to find you here.”
You blinked up at him, not trusting your voice to form words under such immense pressure. His usually slicked back ebony hair is more mussed; a day’s worth of stress was evident in his restless feature.
When you didn’t reply, he took it upon himself to study you from head to toe, and your body went rigid. Your long, honey-coloured hair had been tied up in a lazy bun and glasses framed your face. You didn’t bother changing out of your mini black dress from your date earlier, whose thin straps clung onto your shoulders for dear life.
You squirmed uncomfortably, finding a small ounce of strength to wrap your hands protectively around yourself. “What are you doing here, Mr. Kim?”
“Please,” he rolled his eyes, supple lips bending upwards for a grin. “Call me Seokjin. Mr. Kim is my father.”
And with that, he welcomed himself in the threshold of your restaurant.
Technically, it’s his restaurant now, too.
You let your anger simmer for a bit before turning to follow him.
“You didn’t answer my question,” you declared. It was hard to keep your annoyance down when he had showed up unannounced after ignoring your existence for a whole week.
He slid next to the seat you had claimed yours, and you almost tripped in your heels as you followed, immediately snapping your laptop shut. There was no new information he could have garnered from looking at the finances of the hotel, as he’s probably aware of them. But the thought of him snooping around made you feel queasy.
“I wanted to see what had my father so enamoured that he’d actually buy this…” he trailed off, waving his hand dismissively, “…hotel?”
You hated the underlying judgement in his tone of voice. You had also heard rumours that he’s unabashedly forward and hard to deal with, on top of all the other rumours that plagued him. So far, all the boxes in the checklist were proving to be true.
“It’s quaint. Not at all what I expected.” His gaze studied you momentarily, and you can tell he wanted to say more but he smartly held himself back. Good. You don’t know what you would do if he strung one criticism after another.
“Well, you’ve seen it. You can kindly screw off now.”
Seokjin seemed taken aback for a second, but his surprise didn’t linger. He leaned back on the stool and swiveled forward before pointing at the shelves lined with alcohol.
“I’ll have a whiskey, neat.”
In an attempt to ignore his ridiculous demand, you powered up your laptop once more. No way in hell would you let him step all over you, not even when he owned the hotel where you now stood. “You have very capable legs and arms. I’m sure you can whip one up yourself.”
Was this man joking? Granted, you know your way behind the bar since you had the privilege to work as a bartender for a few years during your college tenure. But that doesn’t mean he’s welcomed here to treat you as if you were a subservient of his. Which, semantics aside, you were, though that’s beside the point. But if he made an effort to come down here and order you around like a scullery maid in an attempt to intimidate you or put you in your place, then he was barking up the wrong tree.
“I was told you have terrific hospitality. I guess they were mistaken.”
Not for the likes of you, I don’t. You rolled your eyes, not bothering with an actual reply.
Seokjin maneuvered off his suit jacket and unbuttoned his cufflinks before he rolled his sleeves up meticulously. He then rounded the bar and began grabbing materials with familiarity, not stopping to ask where anything was located. You watched in awe from the corner of your eyes, attempting to be discreet.
“Want one?” he gave you a slanted gaze.
You wrinkled your nose in disagreement and raised your wine glass.
“A refill, then?”
Pressing your lips firmly together, you gave him a defiant headshake.
The mild shock of seeing him traipsing behind the bar had rendered you absolutely mute. The fact that he knew where everything was piqued your interest. Was it an outcome of years of experience as a habitual drinker? Or did he often just randomly raid bars, hence his extensive knowledge of their layout? You didn’t want to know, but at the same time you did.
It took him a while to find a coaster before settling back to the spot beside you. Typing away at your laptop, you refused to give him even an ounce of attention despite his attention solely being yours. The silence that ensued was more uncomfortable than anything you’ve experienced.
Suddenly, you were all too aware of your crooked posture and your body snapped, straightening your shoulders rigidly. It felt stupid, but necessary for the sake of your sanity to keep your façade. Although it crumbled ever so slightly when Seokjin laughed beside you.
“I didn’t mean to make you feel tense,” his voice was languid and inviting.
You steeled yourself, refusing to be lulled into a trance by his intoxicating presence. “What did you really come here for, Kim Seokjin?”
“She speaks!” he exclaimed, clearly amused. You turned to give him an impassive stare. “Do I need a reason to visit my fiancée?”
His statement caught you by surprise, your poor heart bearing the brunt of suddenly having to pump more oxygen than usual. It brought warmth to your cheeks and you allowed yourself to fall into the fantasy of marrying the most eligible bachelor in all of Seoul. The fantasy, however, was short-lived as his wink broke the spell you were under.
“Don’t worry, this will be strictly business,” his back straightened up on cue. You tried and subsequently failed not to watch the way his deft fingers moved to loosen up his necktie. He then slightly deflated with a sigh, before grabbing his drink and taking a sip.
For courage, perhaps? It brought a small amount of accomplishment to know that you might have The Kim Seokjin nervous before you.
“It’s about the wedding, which you know is coming up soon.”
This was it. The topic you’ve been narrowly avoiding for the past week suddenly poured on you all at once like a bucket of ice-cold water. It wasn’t the most refreshing way of waking you up to reality, but it got the job done.
“I hope you aren’t getting cold feet now, Kim,” he grins at your attempt at humour.
“I apologize for not getting back to you sooner, by the way. My secretary said you tried to get a hold of me.” You remembered the woman’s monotone voice on the other end of the phone call. Part of the reason why you were reluctant to call back was due to nervousness from hearing her apathetic voice.
You shrugged in response, finding him less of an asshole than you had previously. Was your expectation of decency so low that you found anything remotely human he did to be an act of chivalry on his part?
Yes. Yes, it was.
“I tried calling because I wanted to know if I would be able to talk you out of this deal.”
Seokjin was visibly surprised by your candor.
“Oh yeah, and how would that have played out?”
You shifted uncomfortably in your seat. Surely, it was too late to take anything back, so you tossed all caution out of the window. He might as well hear your piece.
“The ceremony preferably cancelled. The Hwang Hotel back to its rightful owner, as if the whole thing hadn’t occurred in the first place.”
Seokjin regarded you with amusement in his eyes. The warm lights of the Grigio soften his rugged features, making it seem like he was glowing. You came to understand how he had the whole country enamoured by him. He was distressingly handsome.
You gagged at where your thoughts ended up and leaned back a little, terrified of feeling too intimate with the man who had claimed your hard-earned success for himself. The hotel means more to you in ways you know Seokjin will never be able to relate. A man who, with a little twirl of his fingers, would be making more money than you could ever hope to imagine. They say no hard work goes unpaid, but for him it was probably akin to: No hard work, but I get paid either way. How comfortable must it be to sit atop that domineering tower of his, overlooking the city he practically owns?
“And what do I get out of that possible scenario?” he began after a brief pause.
You refused to wilt under his imposing gaze. With a confident voice, you said, “The satisfaction of doing a noble deed.”
He barked out a laugh, tilting his head back in obvious enjoyment. You didn’t share the sentiment as you sighed before removing your prescription glasses. Perhaps hoping for the impossible was futile, after all.
“Look, I don’t care about this little passion project of yours,” Seokjin waved his hands around condescendingly, and you felt a familiar pang of anger surging from your chest. “And you’re lucky my father swooped in to purchase this hotel before you went bankrupt.”
“Thank you for the constant reminder,” you deadpanned, but he ignored you and continued. The gall of the man to show up and ridicule you made you irate. I take that back, he’s still an asshole in every aspect imaginable.
“To be frank, I think we’re both in a pinch here. You want your hotel back, and I’m willing to grant you that tiny little wish.”
You perked up; interest piqued. But you felt an ultimatum coming, so you squashed all hope arising from his statement. There was always a catch.
“My parents have been grooming me to become CEO ever since I learned how to walk. For me, acquiring the position is a no-brainer.”
“But?” you offered, and his grin widened.
“But lately my father refuses to hand me the reins. He’s been wanting to retire, but every year he keeps sticking it out. Then I unceremoniously learned my engagement with you. All of a sudden, his mood shifted, and his plans for retirement began piling up.”
Your brows creased in confusion, unable to see how you fit into all of this.
“My reputation precedes me, so I’m sure you’re aware of what I’m insinuating here.”
Something clicks in your mind, and you willed yourself to hold back a scoff.
“Enlighten me, Kim,” you propped your chin against your palm. If you were going to agree to this, you might as well have a little fun for yourself.
“My parents aren’t amused by my…” Seokjin trailed off.
“Decision to debauch half the women’s population of Seoul?” you offered, unable to hold yourself back. You grinned triumphantly; he had set himself up for that moral beating.
“I was going to say my inability to settle down, but sure, we’ll go with that,” Seokjin was unfazed, much to your disappointment. “He hadn’t explicitly said it but seeing the way everything is being handled so quickly, I can tell it’s what he wants. For me to get married; then maybe he’ll consider giving me the position.”
“And you didn’t oppose?” you asked incredulously. It seemed at the moment you were the one who is prepped to lose the most. What if it wasn’t you who the Kims chose for their son? Were you supposed to just accept defeat and give up your hotel?
“Oh, trust me, I vehemently opposed,” you nodded at his statement. At least you agreed on something. That was a start. “But that’s partly the reason why I’m here.”
“What more can we possibly do? We’re basically left with no option,” you grumbled, turning back to your laptop. For you, there was no way around this. Both your families have decided for you, so you have to either fall in line or risk losing your business.
“What if I tell you we can go back to our normal lives a few months from now? We won’t be married to each other. You’ll have your hotel back, and I’ll still be the CEO.”
You inadvertently leaned towards him, eager to know where the conversation was going.
“We just have to convince my parents and yours, as well as the board of directors of Kim Hotels and the public alike how we’re hopelessly in love with each other.”
Your mouth formed into a visible scowl, forehead creasing in confusion. You searched for hints of frivolity, waiting for him to say just kidding! at any moment. But his stoic face told you that he was being serious.
“And we’re doing this because…?” your patience had worn thin, expression marred by weariness and fatigue. You had a lot to get back to; you didn’t have time for silly games.
“It will make the divorce more believable.”
You paused, the gears in your brain turning. The agreement your parents told you about hadn’t involved a divorce; so, you were curious as to where Seokjin was going with his idea.
He was offering you an out; a way to get out of his family’s mess unscathed. You’ll have your only prized possession, and he can go back to sleeping with as many people as he wanted while retaining his coveted position. The proposition was too good to be true.
“What’s the catch?” your lips pursed, and you found yourself considering his ludicrous proposal.
“No catch,” he holds his two hands up in surrender, the corner of his mouth forming a smirk. You eyed him with suspicion.
“Just that you give effort into this whole thing. Make my father and the board believe enough to think I’ve ‘cleaned up my act’,” he paused to roll his eyes, “so that they’ll hand me the position without question. I promise you full ownership of the Hwang Hotel, without debt, as soon as we separate.”
While your parents’ original plan had been to marry you off entirely (which you did not want at all) Seokjin was sensible enough to figure out that you had no desires of tying the knot to someone you barely knew. He probably shared the sentiment, hence his proposal.
“This doesn’t make sense though,” you said pointedly. “Wouldn’t they find out about your motives when we divorce? And our parents technically arranged this, so they’ll be mad — I’m sure yours will be more than mine.”
You’re all in for finding a loophole in this whole arrangement, but you’re not sure you’ll agree if it will give you more problems in the long run.
He shrugged, unconcerned. “They can question it all they want. But like I said, if we make it believable enough, we can always reason that we ‘fell out of love’.”
In an attempt to alleviate a developing headache, your hands slowly massaged your temples. The information was a lot to hand, but no matter how many scenarios you played in your head, they all seemed to have the finale you wanted. Regardless of what happened within the upcoming months, you were going to get your hotel back.
“If you’re really that worried, let’s just say I cheated,” Seokjin’s words snapped you out of your muddled thoughts.
Your eyebrows creased in confusion. “Wouldn’t that be worse for you?”
“The public already thinks I’m a man-whore,” he said wryly. “The board is not going to kick me out of office for something tedious like a divorce once I’m CEO. And I’m sure I can reason it out with my parents when the time comes.”
You laced your fingers together, hoping to wring the concerns away. There was no use in overthinking the situation; it certainly beats staying miserably married to someone you barely know.
You let out a shaky breath, before mustering the confidence to say, “Fine.”
“Great, I knew you’d be reasonable.” He flicked his wrist to look at his watch, gaze composed despite the tiredness in his eyes. “I’ll have my secretary e-mail you a written agreement.”
“Great,” you mimicked his deadpan tone. Gone was the casual Seokjin who paced around behind the bar with much familiarity. This was the COO of Kim Hotels Seokjin; precise and straight to the point.
Better get used to that.
“Thanks for the drink, future wife,” he slid off the barstool with poise, the distance between you and him closing ever so slightly. He smelled like pine and cedar, with a hint of citrus; it was enough for you to suddenly sober up, unaware you were inebriated, to begin with.
“No need. You forced your way in, anyway.” You said dismissively, pretending to switch tabs on your screen. Where was that random website you were looking at earlier?
With a quiet laugh, he turned to leave. You listened to his rhythmic steps and perked up when he paused.
“See you tomorrow, fiancée,” he said without turning.
“Tomorrow?” you tried not to give away the surprise in your voice.
“We have to start going on dates to convince them that we’re serious about this, right? Pick you up at eight, sharp.”
With a wave of his right hand, he stalked off towards the exit, leaving you alone in the restaurant.
Suddenly, the premise didn’t appear so simple. You reached for your glass of wine and finished the rest of your courage drink in one gulp.
NEXT ;
thanks for reading! feedback is always appreciated ;u;
warnings: oral (f. receiving), fingering, slight humiliation, slight degradation, jin has a praise kink, orgasm denial, reader kinda steps on jins cock, oh yeah sub!jin
word count: 1.4k
tags: @sombreboy
Kim Seokjin.
The name alone was enough to make everyone tremble in their shoes. He had everything. Money, Fame, Power. The Kim’s were one of the most successful families in Seoul, the oldest Son already having a whole Empire beneath him with twenty-seven years of age.
In his company, his words were law and for his employees he was god. He was a powerful man, though even a man like him would have a weakness. His weakness was you.
His petite personal assistant. You were about a head shorter than him, could easily hide behind his massive shoulders. People treated you like you were made out of porcelain, only a pretty doll to be looked at but never touched. If only they knew what happened behind closed doors.
“Sir?” It was something that only left your lips in public, holding the phone against your ear. Seokjin’s deep voice was sounding through the mobile, “Come in my office, y/n, please. I need you.”
There was no need to respond, he knew you would come. You couldn’t resist his pleading. He could hear the soft ‘click’ once you hang up on him, the soft clacking of your heels against the marble floors until you reached his office door with a knock. “Come in.”
His lips curl up in a small smile when you entered, eyes instantly falling down to the end of your pencil skirt. “Y/n,” Your name left his lips in a breathy whisper, silently begging you closer.
Your chuckle sounded through the room, stepping closer almost painfully slow. “What did you think about this time, Jinnie?” Your voice had sultry undertone to it, grazing your nail along his jawline as soon as you were close enough. He groans at your touch, leaning back in his chair as he watched you, seating yourself on his desk.
The tip of your shoe barely grazes his crotch and he releases another shaky breath at the contact. It was amusing — seeing the great Kim Seokjin so weak at the simplest touches. “Did you think about me, hm?” Your words are mocking, watching his eyes flutter shut as his fingers wrap around your ankle — loose enough for you to pull away; he wasn’t in control.
His hips start grinding against the sole of your shoe, the thin heel just barely poking at his crotch. “You’re pathetic, Jinnie. What would your employees say if they saw you grinding against your assistant’s shoe, hm?”
Seokjin’s only response is a whine, his grip on your ankle tightens only the slightest and you pull back immediately. His eyes snap open as he realizes his mistake, “I—I’m sorry, y/n, please—”
“Quiet.” He shuts up instantly, clutching the arms of his chair tightly. And although he’s so, so desperate for any kind of friction, he knows better than to touch himself. “I bet they would laugh at you. The strong Kim Seokjin,” another chuckle leaves your lips, pulling his chair closer. “completely at my mercy.”
Your fingers gingerly pull your skirt up, bunching the fabric around your waist and his breath hitches when he sees your glistening cunt. You weren’t wearing any panties. His cock twitches at the sight, licking his lips as the faint scent of your arousal hits his nose.
“Put your mouth to good use, Seokjin.”
He instantly drops from his chair to his knees, hands spreading your thighs further apart. He trails soft kisses from your inner thighs to your core, plump lips wrapping around your clit, the tip of his tongue teasing against the little nub. His slender fingers brushing through your wet folds, coating the digits in your arousal before slipping them inside your dripping hole.
He’s rewarded with nothing more than a soft moan, your cunt squeezing his fingers, clit throbbing against his tongue. Seokjin knew just what to do to make you tremble under his touch, to make you cry his name if you allowed yourself to. He curls his fingers inside of you, sucking your clit into his mouth and grazing his teeth over the bundle of nerves expertly. “Jinnie..”
His tongue laps at your cunt greedily, fingertips brushing against that one spot that would make you cum. He was breathing through his nose, free hand curling around your waist to pull you closer to his mouth. His soft grunts are sending vibrations through your core, fingers fucking into you faster and faster, desperate to have you cumming for him.
He relishes in the way your cunt squeezes around his fingers, legs trembling at his sides and he knows you’re close. Your soft moans turn just a tad louder, though not enough to be heard through the closed door — waves of pleasure washing over you as your orgasm rips through your body.
Seokjin works you through it, pulling his fingers out and watching your juices dripping down his hand. “Clean it.” He doesn’t hesitate to do so, tongue brushing over his skin, a low groan sounding in the back of his throat. He fucking loved tasting you.
“You did so well, Jinnie. Such a good boy.”
His lips curl up in a smile at your praise, nose brushing against your thigh. “Thank you..” He can feel your fingers raking through his locks, soft sighs leaving his lips. “Do you want to fuck me, Jinnie?”
“Yes, please. Please—” He’s begging already, looking up at you with pleading eyes. “Get back on your chair.”
Seokjin listened almost instantly, getting back on his feet and sitting down on his chair. His eyes are glued on your body as you slipped down from his desk. Hands working on his belt before pulling his pants and boxers down until they were pooling at his ankles. Your lips press against his, slipping on his lap, fingers wrapping around his length and guiding it to your entrance.
Your hands rest on his shoulders, sinking down on his length with a soft sigh. You’re seated on his lap, cock fit snugly inside of your tight cunt and he fucking loves it. His fingers curl around the curve of your waist, cock throbbing in need but he knows he can’t move.
“Mh, I love your cock, Jinnie. It’s so big..” You leaned in to press your lips against his neck, leaving bright red marks on his skin. “Fuck me, Jin. C’mon, make me scream for you.” He can’t hold back the groan at your words, grip finally tightening around your waist. He moves you slowly at first, until he has you bouncing up and down on his cock.
And it’s true. You love his cock so much — it’s not as thick as others you had before, but it’s long, more than the average length and with a pretty curve that hits just the right places to make you cum. But he was close too, cock throbbing inside of you. Your soft whines against his ears only make him harder, his moans turning almost pathetically high pitched. You know he’s close, clenching around his cock purposely. You cup his face in your hands, thumbs stroking his cheeks affectionately. “Make me cum first, Jinnie.”
In his office room, your words are law.
He licks the pads of his fingers, reaching down to pinch your clit between his fingers, cock pounding inside of your tight cunt. He was trying so hard for you, knowing you were most likely sensitive from your earlier orgasm.
His movements made you shiver, trembling in his grip. “Fuck—” Your hips twitched at his touch. “Fuck, Jinnie— I’m gonna cum—” Your voice gets cut off with a small moan, clinging onto his shoulders, legs trembling at his sides when you finally cum with a broken cry of his name. It’s enough to make him cum, but he holds back, knowing he didn’t get any permission to do so.
Your cunt’s squeezing him tightly, and his head rolls back with a pained grunt. “You’re such a good boy, Jinnie. I love you so much.” You leaned in to pepper his face in kisses, though he can see the smirk crawling on your lips. “Y/n—”
You shush him quietly, getting off his lap with a smirk. “Not today, Jinnie. And don’t you dare jerk off once I’m gone.” Jin whines at your words, but he knows better than to protest, watching as you pull your skirt back down and leave his office with a smile.
