Piece Of Peace
Pairing: CEO!Jung Hoseok x Pottery_Instructor!Reader Genre: Therapy (Pottery making), Overwhelm/Burnout Themes, Slice of life, Romance, Smut, Fluff, Strangers-to-Lovers, Slow-Burn Rating: 18+ | Minors DNI Warnings: Overwhelm/Burnout Themes, Explicit sexual content [messy make-outs, lots of kissing, clay play, shower sex, oral M receiving, unprotected sex (refrain IRL)], Body worship, emotional intimacy, emotional love making Word Count: ~11.2k A/n: IDK why I came up with this title. Maybe you will get it by the end of story but I am still confuse about my choice. So let me know what you guys think of it? [MASTERLIST]
The penthouse office of Jung International towered over Seoul like crown. Floor-to-ceiling windows framed the glittering Han River and the endless sea of neon lights that never slept.
Inside, the only sound was the low hum of the air-conditioning and the occasional sharp click of a mouse.
Hoseok sat slumped in his massive black leather executive chair, tie loosened just enough to breathe, but still perfectly in place. His usually sharp, energetic eyes were dull with exhaustion. The clock on his sleek walnut desk glowed 09:47 PM in soft white digits.
Another 15-hour day.
He had lost count somewhere between the emergency board meeting and the last overseas conference call.
He rubbed his temples, feeling the steady throb of a tension headache building behind his eyes. His shoulders felt like they were carved from stone, tight and unyielding. For the first time in years, the golden, untouchable CEO of Jung International felt truly, deeply overwhelmed.
“Fuck…” he muttered under his breath, the rare curse slipping out in the empty office.
He loosened his tie a little more, then opened his laptop again. Instead of another spreadsheet or email, he typed into the search bar: “stress relief activities for busy executives” and “how to relax when you have no time.”
The results loaded quickly.
He scrolled past the usual suggestions with a tired sigh.
Yoga… tried already.
Meditation… he’d tried, but his mind wouldn’t shut up.
Running… he already did that at 5 AM, and it barely helped anymore.
Then one line caught his attention:
“Pottery – Working with clay is proven to reduce cortisol levels and bring mindfulness through tactile focus. The hands-on, sensory experience helps disconnect from digital overload and reconnect with the present moment.”
Hoseok stared at the sentence for a long moment, fingers hovering over the trackpad.
Pottery?
It sounded almost ridiculous for a man who closed multi-million dollar deals before breakfast. But something about the idea of getting his hands dirty, of creating something with no spreadsheets or quarterly reports attached… it appealed to him in a strange way.
He leaned forward, elbows on the desk, and read a few more lines from the article aloud to himself, voice low and thoughtful.
“Pottery forces complete presence of individual's mind. The feel of wet clay, the spin of the wheel, the unpredictability of the material… it’s therapeutic.”
He paused, then whispered, “Maybe that’s exactly what I need.”
Deciding quickly... as he always did, Hoseok picked up his phone. His personal assistant, Minji, answered on the second ring despite the late hour.
“Mr. Jung?” Her voice was alert, professional. “Is everything alright?”
“Minji, I need you to book something for me right now. A private pottery session. Tonight if possible.”
There was a short pause on the other end. “Pottery, sir?”
“Yes. Private. No other students. Just me and the instructor. Find the best discreet studio in the city—somewhere quiet, preferably in Hongdae or near Itaewon. Pay whatever they ask for exclusivity. And make sure it’s completely off the record. No press, no leaks, nothing.”
Minji didn’t question him further.
She had learned long ago that when Hoseok made up his mind, he moved fast. “Understood. I’ll call around immediately and get back to you within fifteen minutes. Should I arrange the car as well?”
“Yes. Tell the driver to be ready downstairs in thirty minutes max.”
“Consider it done, sir.”
Around 10 minutes later, Minji called back.
“Mr. Jung, I found a place. It’s called Moonlit Clay Studio in a quiet alley off Hongdae. The owner herself answered the phone. She was hesitant at first about a last-minute private booking this late at night—said all her staff had already gone home.”
Hoseok was about to decline but Minji continued.
“But when I mentioned the compensation and how important privacy is, she agreed to stay and instruct you personally. The studio is small and exclusive, perfect for discretion. No other clients, no photos allowed, nothing. She assured me everything will be completely private.”
Hoseok stood up, already grabbing his suit jacket. “Good. Send the address to my driver. I’m leaving now.”
“Safe drive, sir. And… try to enjoy it?”
A small, tired chuckle escaped him. “I’ll try.”
One hour later, the sleek black Mercedes pulled up silently outside a narrow, unassuming building in a tucked-away alley of Hongdae.
The neon signs of the main street were far enough away that the area felt almost peaceful. A small wooden sign with elegant handwriting read: “Moonlit Clay Studio ~ Handcrafted Moments”.
Only one warm light glowed softly through the frosted glass door.
Hoseok stepped out of the car, still dressed in his tailored charcoal three-piece suit. The jacket was buttoned, his navy tie perfectly knotted, cufflinks glinting under the streetlamp.
He ran a hand through his neatly styled hair and took a deep, steadying breath. This better actually help, he thought. I can’t keep going like this.
He pushed the door open.
A soft bell chimed above his head.
The studio smelled instantly of damp earth, fresh clay, and a faint hint of lavender. Wooden shelves lined the walls, displaying beautiful finished pieces—vases, bowls, abstract sculptures, all glowing under warm pendant lights.
In the center of the room stood a large wooden worktable with two pottery wheels.
And there you were... the owner.
You stood behind the main wheel, wearing a simple beige apron tied neatly over a white t-shirt and comfortable jeans. Your hands were lightly dusted with dry clay, and a small smear already decorated your left cheek.
You had stayed behind alone after sending your two part-time instructors home at 9 PM, planning to work on your own pieces. The late-night call from an insistent assistant had changed those plans.
You looked up as the door opened, your eyes widening slightly when you recognized the tall, strikingly handsome man who had just walked in.
Jung Hoseok... Looking every bit the powerful CEO even at this late hour.
You quickly composed yourself and offered a warm, professional yet welcoming smile as you stepped around the table.
“Good evening,” you said softly, your voice gentle but carrying a hint of warmth in the quiet studio. “You must be Mr. Jung. Welcome to Moonlit Clay Studio. I’m Y/N, the owner here. I’ll be instructing you personally tonight since it’s so late and my staff has already left.”
Hoseok closed the door behind him and gave you a small, polite nod, his famous charming smile appearing despite his exhaustion.
His eyes scanned you briefly... calm, capable, and unexpectedly pretty with that little clay smudge on your cheek. “Good evening, Ms. Y/N. Thank you for agreeing to this on such short notice. I know it was very late and inconvenient. My assistant mentioned you hesitated at first.”
You let out a soft, honest laugh as you wiped your hands on your apron.
“Honestly, yes, I did hesitate for a second. We usually close at 9, and everyone else had gone home. But when she explained how important complete privacy was and… well, the compensation was quite generous, I couldn’t say no. It’s not every day we get a request like this. Please, come in and make yourself comfortable.”
Hoseok’s shoulders relaxed just a fraction at your candid tone.
He liked that you didn’t pretend it was nothing.
“I appreciate the honesty,” he said, voice low and smooth. “And I really do value the discretion. My life is… loud enough during the day. I needed somewhere quiet where I can just… switch off.”
You nodded understandingly and gestured toward the hook on the wall.
“I completely understand. That’s why many people come here... to slow down. You can hang your jacket there if you’d like. We’re definitely going to get messy with the clay tonight, so feel free to get comfortable.”
Hoseok nodded and began unbuttoning his suit jacket, sliding it off his broad shoulders with graceful efficiency. He hung it neatly on the hook.
As he did, you tried not to let your gaze linger too long on the way his crisp white shirt fit across his chest and arms.
“Would you like something to drink before we start?” you asked, moving to the side counter. “Water, herbal tea, or coffee? I have a chamomile-lavender blend that’s really good for winding down after a long day.”
Hoseok took a step closer, his presence filling the cozy studio. “Water would be perfect for now, thank you. Maybe the tea afterward if this actually works.”
You poured him a glass from the RO and handed it over. Your fingers brushed lightly against his as he took it.
“Here you go,” you said with a small smile. “And don’t worry... no pressure tonight. Pottery isn’t about being perfect. It’s about letting go. Have you ever tried it before?”
Hoseok took a sip, then set the glass down, his sharp eyes meeting yours with genuine curiosity mixed with exhaustion.
“Never,” he admitted with a self-deprecating chuckle. “I’m a complete beginner. Probably hopeless at first. But I read that working with clay can help shut the brain off for a while, and right now… that sounds like heaven.”
You smiled warmly, already feeling a little more at ease with his honest vulnerability. “Then you’re in the right place, Mr. Jung. Or… would you prefer I call you Hoseok?”
He gave a small nod, the corner of his mouth lifting. “Hoseok is fine. Makes it feel less like a business meeting.”
“Alright, Hoseok,” you said, gesturing to the stool beside the pottery wheel. “Have a seat. Let’s start with the basics — kneading the clay so it’s ready for the wheel. I’ll guide you through every step. If you have any questions or if something feels uncomfortable, just tell me.”
Hoseok sat down, looking up at you with a tired but intrigued expression. “Perfect. Teach me, Y/N. I’m all yours tonight.”
Your cheeks warmed slightly at the way he said it, but you kept your professional smile and picked up a lump of clay.
“Perfect. Let’s start…”
The studio felt smaller now that Hoseok had removed his jacket.
He stood near the pottery wheel in his crisp white shirt. His fingers moved with deliberate grace as he loosened the navy tie completely, pulling the silk free in one smooth motion and setting it aside on the hook beside his jacket.
Next came the sleeves... he rolled them up to his forearms with practiced efficiency, revealing the corded muscles and prominent veins that stood out under the warm golden studio lights.
His shoulders looked broad and strong even through the thin material, the subtle shift of fabric hinting at the toned physique beneath. You swallowed hard, your mouth suddenly dry.
Focus. He’s just a client. A very attractive client. Nothing more.
But as Hoseok sat down on the stool and leaned forward slightly, the way his shirt stretched taut across his chest and the subtle flex of his forearms when he placed his hands tentatively on the edge of the wheel… you didn’t realize your lips had parted slightly.
You snapped out of it, quickly wiping the corner of your mouth and clearing your throat a little too loudly.
“Okay, let’s begin,” you said, forcing your voice to sound steady and professional. “First, we need to knead the clay to remove any air bubbles. It’s important so the piece doesn’t explode in the furnacing later.”
Hoseok glanced up at you, his sharp eyes catching the faint flush creeping across your cheeks.
A small smirk tugged at the corner of his lips internally. Interesting.
He tilted his head slightly, voice low and smooth. “Kneading? Sounds technical. Show me how it’s done, Y/N. I don’t want to ruin your clay on the first try.”
You picked up a lump of cool, damp clay and demonstrated on the table beside him, kneading it firmly with the heels of your hands in a steady rhythm.
“Like this... push, fold, and rotate. It’s almost like kneading dough, but with more pressure. Here, you try.” You placed a fresh lump in front of him.
When he reached for it, your fingers brushed against his briefly warm skin against warm skin. The contact sent a small spark up your arm, but you ignored it.
Hoseok pressed his palms into the clay, copying your motion, but his movements were a little too hesitant at first.
“Am I doing this right?” he asked, looking up at you with a hint of genuine uncertainty mixed with that effortless charm. “It feels… squishier than I expected. And messier.”
You smiled softly, stepping a little closer. “You’re doing fine for a first attempt. Put more weight into it — use your body, not just your arms. Here, let me show you the pressure.”
You leaned in, placing your hand gently over his on the clay, guiding the firm push and fold. Your fingers overlapped his, feeling the strength in his hands and the warmth radiating from his skin.
“Feel that? Steady and rhythmic. Don’t fight the clay... work with it.”
Hoseok’s cologne, mixed with the earthy scent of the damp clay. It was intoxicating up close.
Your heart stuttered.
“Like this?” he murmured, his voice dropping lower as he followed your guidance. His breath brushed near your cheek.
You nodded, trying to keep your focus. “Yes… exactly. Now, once it’s wedged, we center it on the wheel. That’s the tricky part for beginners.”
You moved the prepared clay to the wheel and sat on the stool opposite him for demonstration, but when he tried it himself, the lump wobbled wildly as the wheel spun.
Hoseok let out a low, frustrated chuckle. “It’s fighting me. See? Hopeless, just like I said.”
You stood up and moved behind him without thinking, leaning in close so you could reach around. Your chest brushed lightly against his side as you placed your hand over his again on the clay, the other gently steadying the wheel speed with the pedal.
“Feel the spin,” you murmured near his ear, your voice softer than intended. “Breathe with it. Don’t force it, guide it. Let your hands listen to the clay.”
Hoseok’s skin was warm against yours.
The muscles in his forearms tensed and relaxed under your touch as the wheel hummed. For a moment, the only sounds were the gentle whir of the wheel and your combined breathing.
He turned his head just slightly, his voice low and teasing. “You make it sound almost… intimate. Is this how you teach all your private students?”
Your breath caught.
The tension in the air thickened instantly.
You pulled back a fraction, cheeks burning hotter. “Only the ones who need extra guidance on their first atempt. And you’re… doing better than most beginners.”
Hoseok’s lips curved into a small, knowing smile as he kept his hands on the clay. “Good to know I’m special then.”
You swallowed again, quickly moving to adjust his grip once more, your fingers lingering a second longer than necessary on the back of his hand.
“Try centering it now. Keep the pressure even… yes, like that.”
He managed to center it, not perfectly, but close enough for a first try. The cylinder that slowly rose under your combined guidance was slightly wobbly, uneven at the top, but undeniably a small victory.
As the wheel slowed to a stop, Hoseok sat back, flexing his clay-covered fingers. He looked noticeably lighter, the exhaustion in his eyes softened by a spark of satisfaction.
“Not bad for someone who’s never touched clay before,” he said, glancing at you with a warm, appreciative look. “I feel… quieter already. My mind actually stopped racing for a few minutes there.”
You smiled, genuinely pleased, though your pulse was still racing for entirely different reasons. “That’s the magic of it. The clay doesn’t care about schedules or deals, it just demands your full attention.”
Hoseok washed his hands at the small sink in the corner, the water running over his strong forearms. He dried them slowly, then turned back to you.
“I’ll book another session,” he said, his tone decisive but laced with something warmer. “Same time next week. Still private. Just us.”
You nodded, trying not to let your smile grow too wide or too obvious. “I’ll be here. The studio is yours whenever you need it.”
As he took his jacket back from the hook, leaving the sleeves rolled up and the tie loose around his neck, you caught yourself staring at his retreating back, the way those rolled sleeves still revealed the strong lines of his forearms.
Get it together, Y/N. He’s a client. Just a client.
But as the door closed softly behind him and the bell chimed, you touched the corner of your mouth again, remembering that near-drool moment, and let out a shaky breath.
The tension had already begun, quiet, electric, and impossible to ignore on the very first night.
The second lesson turned into the third, then the fourth...
More than three months had passed since that first late-night session. What began as a single desperate booking had quietly become a ritual.
Every Friday and Saturday at 10 PM, the studio belonged only to Jung Hoseok and you. The rest of the world faded the moment the door closed and the soft bell chimed.
Each time Hoseok arrived, he followed the same ritual that never failed to make your pulse stutter... jacket off, hung neatly on the hook, tie loosened with one smooth tug until it hung carelessly around his neck, sleeves rolled up to his forearms, revealing those strong veins and the subtle flex of muscle as he moved.
Each time you tried desperately not to stare, but you failed every single time.
You’d catch yourself literally drooling... lips parted, eyes tracing the graceful line of his neck, the sharp collarbones that peeked out when the top buttons of his shirt came undone, the way his biceps shifted under the thin fabric when he pressed his hands into the clay.
And every single time, Hoseok noticed.
He never called you out directly, but that small, knowing smirk would tug at the corner of his lips internally, growing wider with each passing lesson.
Tonight, Hoseok sat at the wheel, his shirt sleeves already rolled high, a fresh lump of clay spinning between his capable hands. The studio was warm, lit only by the soft pendant lights and the faint glow from the street outside.
The air smelled of wet earth and the faint smell of his cologne.
You stood close behind him, guiding his movements as the cylinder slowly took shape.
“Relax your shoulders,” you murmured, your voice softer than usual. “You’re still carrying the whole company on them.”
Hoseok let out a low chuckle, the sound rich and tired. “You noticed that the very first night, didn’t you? My mind was so loud back then… I could barely hear myself think. That’s why I searched for pottery in the middle of the night. I needed something that would shut it all up.”
You smiled gently, your hand resting longer than necessary over his on the clay, feeling the warmth of his skin and the steady rhythm of the wheel.
“I remember,” you said quietly.
“You looked so exhausted when you walked in. Like the weight of Seoul was sitting on your chest. But look at you now… your pieces are getting better, and your eyes are lighter. Has it really helped that much?”
He nodded, eyes fixed on the spinning clay but his attention clearly divided. “More than I expected. The first few weeks, my mind still raced even while I was here. But somewhere around the second month… it started to quiet down. It’s therapeutic in a way nothing else has been.”
You moved around to face him better, leaning in as you adjusted the pressure of his fingers.
“It is therapeutic,” you agreed, voice intimate in the quiet studio.
“That’s exactly why I opened Moonlit Clay Studio three years ago. I used to work in a very loud corporate job, marketing for a big firm. Long hours, constant pressure, endless meetings. My mind was never quiet either. I was burnt out and one day I took a random pottery class just to try something new, and… it saved me.”
Hoseok looked up at you then, his gaze warm and searching, the wheel slowing to a stop.
You continued... “The feel of the clay, the way it forces you to be present — it reminded me I was more than my job, more than the stress. So I saved up, quit, and opened this place. I wanted to give others that same quiet space.”
“You’re different from everyone in my world, Y/N,” he said softly, no teasing in his tone this time, just honest emotion.
“In my business, people want something from me — deals, connections, money. But you… you understand how overwhelmed I was that first night without me having to explain it in numbers or reports. You just… see it. And you give me this space without expecting anything back.”
Your cheeks warmed under his sincere words.
You bit your lip lightly, trying to hide how much they affected you.
“I do understand,” you replied, your hand still resting on his.
“Because I’ve been there. The exhaustion that sits in your bones. The way your mind won’t stop even when your body is screaming for rest. But here… here we can just be. No titles. No schedules. Just clay and conversation.”
The touch lingered.
Your fingers traced a small adjustment on his grip, but neither of you pulled away. The air between you thickened, heavy with unspoken tension and something warmer, deeper.
Hoseok’s voice dropped lower, a teasing lilt creeping back in as he tilted his head. “So tell me, studio owner… do you give all your private students these deep, soul-soothing talks? Or am I getting special treatment because I pay well?”
You laughed softly, the sound light but a little breathless.
“Special treatment? Maybe. Because you are the only private student I ever had. Or maybe it’s because you actually listen when I talk. Most people come here, make small talk about the weather, and leave. You ask real questions.”
He smirked, eyes sparkling with mischief as he deliberately brushed the back of your hand with his thumb.
“Real questions deserve real answers,” he said, voice husky. “Like… what do you do when you’re not saving overwhelmed CEOs from their own minds? Is there something else you love as much as clay?”
You felt the heat rise in your face but answered honestly, enjoying the way he made you feel seen.
“I paint sometimes. Read a lot. And I love late-night walks when the city finally quiets down. It reminds me why I chose this quiet life. What about you, Hoseok? When you’re not being the perfect CEO… what does the real Jung Hoseok enjoy?”
He leaned forward slightly, the space between you shrinking. “Honestly? I’m still figuring that out. But these nights with you… they’re becoming my favorite part of the week. The clay helps. Talking to you helps more.”
Your breath hitched at the admission.
The flirting was no longer subtle.
Before you could respond, a small streak of wet clay flicked from his fingers onto your lower lip as he adjusted his grip.
“You have clay on your lips,” Hoseok said, his voice dropping into that low, intimate tone that always made your stomach flutter.
He wiped his hands with cloth and reached up slowly, his thumb gently wiping the clay away from the corner of your mouth. The touch lingered far longer than necessary, his thumb brushing softly across your lip once, twice.
Your heart hammered. “Th-thank you…”
He didn’t pull his hand away immediately. His eyes darkened with something warmer than mischief as he smiled, slow and knowing.
“Anytime,” he murmured, the word heavy with promise. “In fact… I think I might start looking for excuses to get clay on you more often.”
You let out a shaky laugh, the tension crackling between you like electricity.
“Hoseok…” you whispered, half-warning, half-invitation.
He leaned in just a fraction closer, his breath warm against your skin, eyes locked on yours. “Yes, Y/N?”
The space between you vanished.
Hoseok’s free hand came up to cradle the side of your face, his thumb still resting lightly on your lower lip. For one heartbeat, everything stilled... the wheel silent, the studio holding its breath.
Then he closed the distance.
The kiss was soft at first, almost tentative, his lips brushing yours with a gentleness that surprised you both. Clay-dusted fingers cupped your cheek as he tilted his head, deepening the kiss slowly, savoring the moment that had been building for months.
His mouth was warm, tasting faintly of the herbal tea you’d shared earlier mixed with something uniquely him.
You sighed softly into the kiss, your hand instinctively rising to rest against his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath the thin shirt.
The tension that had simmered for weeks finally ignited — tender yet charged with all the unspoken longing, the late-night conversations, the lingering touches.
Hoseok pulled back just enough to rest his forehead against yours, breathing a little heavier, his voice a low whisper against your lips.
“I’ve wanted to do that for longer than I should admit,” he confessed, a small, breathless smile curving his mouth. “Every time you leaned in to guide me… every time you looked at me like I was more than just the CEO.”
Your fingers tightened slightly in his shirt, heart racing. “Then don’t stop now.”
He chuckled softly, the sound vibrating through you, before capturing your lips again, this time with a little more hunger, a little more certainty, the kiss turning deeper, slower, more intimate in the quiet glow of the studio.
When you finally parted, both of you slightly flushed and smiling, Hoseok brushed a stray smear of clay from your cheek with his thumb, eyes shining with a mix of affection and teasing warmth.
“Careful, Y/N,” he murmured, voice husky. “If we keep this up, I might never want to leave this studio.”
You laughed breathlessly, the air still thick with electricity and the promise of more. “Maybe that’s the point.”
The forgotten wheel caught your attention again.
The clay that had been forming into a neat cylinder had completely lost its shape during the distraction. It now sat collapsed and lopsided on the wheel a weird, squished blob that looked like a melted mushroom, leaning dramatically to one side with uneven ridges and collapsed walls.
You both noticed it at the same moment.
Hoseok’s eyes widened slightly before a low, genuine laugh escaped him. “Oh no… look what we did to it. That was supposed to be a vase. Now it looks like… I don’t even know. Modern art gone wrong?”
You couldn’t help it, a bright giggle bubbled up from your chest as you stared at the ridiculous, deformed lump. “It’s… unique. Maybe we can call it ‘Distraction No. 1.’ Or ‘The Kiss That Killed the Cylinder.’”
Hoseok joined in, his laughter warm and full, shoulders shaking as he leaned back on the stool. “It’s hideous. But honestly? Worth it.”
The shared giggles lightened the air, turning the charged moment into something even sweeter, playful, intimate, and undeniably closer.
The wheel remained forgotten once more, the weirdly shaped pottery sitting there as silent proof of how far the evening and your feelings had shifted.
Two months later, you and Hoseok were unofficially dating.
The connection that began with that heated kiss in the studio had quietly deepened into something real. Though you hadn’t made it official to the outside world yet, the two of you had been seeing each other in secret... sharing soft kisses, late-night talks, and many more nights filled with laughter and intimacy.
It was a quiet Thursday night, well past 11 PM.
The studio was supposed to be closed, but you had stayed late to finish a personal piece. The wheel hummed softly under your hands, clay spinning steadily as you worked alone in the warm glow of the pendant lights.
Your apron was already speckled with dried and wet clay.
The soft chime of the bell made you look up.
Hoseok stepped inside, not in his usual tailored suit but in casual clothes... a simple black hoodie and dark jeans. His hair was slightly tousled, dark circles under his eyes more pronounced than usual, shoulders heavy with exhaustion.
You began to slow the wheel, but Hoseok said quickly, voice low and gentle, “Wait... don’t stop. Keep going. Please.”
You nodded, letting the wheel continue at a slower pace, your hands staying lightly on the clay.
“Hoseok?” you asked, warmth and surprise in your tone. “You didn’t tell me you were coming tonight. It’s not your session day.”
He closed the door, giving you a tired smile. “You mentioned this morning you’d stay late. I just wanted to see you. Hope it's okay.”
You searched his eyes, heart melting at the raw exhaustion mixed with longing. “Of course it’s okay. You look really exhausted… rough day?”
He sighed heavily and walked behind you. “The roughest. My mind wouldn’t stop. I needed you.”
Without another word, Hoseok wrapped his arms around your waist from behind in a tight hug, burying his face in your neck. He pressed soft, lingering kisses there, nuzzling gently while your hands remained on the slowly spinning wheel.
“Hoseok…” you whispered breathily as his lips brushed below your ear. “You’re so tired.”
“So tired,” he murmured against your skin, tightening his hold. “But you make everything quiet. I missed this. Missed you.”
You leaned back into him, hands still guiding the clay. “I missed you too.”
After a few minutes of his warm kisses and nuzzles, you said softly, “Do you want to join me? We can shape it together.”
“Yeah… let me help.”
He extended his arms, placing his hands over yours on the wet clay. His fingers intertwined with yours, chest pressed firmly to your back. The wheel spun under your joined touch.
At first it was gentle, but playfulness quickly sparked.
Hoseok’s fingers deliberately slid through the slick clay, pressing a little too hard so a soft splatter flicked onto your forearm.
“Oops,” he teased, voice husky near your ear. “Didn’t mean to get you messy.”
You laughed, retaliating by guiding his hand to smear a streak of mud across the back of his own wrist. “Liar. You’re doing it on purpose.”
He chuckled and flicked his fingers suddenly, sending a thick streak of wet clay across your cheek.
Before you could respond, the cool mud landed with a soft smack.
You gasped, laughing in surprise. “Hey!”
Without hesitation, you retaliated, using your hand to smear a big swipe of mud across his jaw and down his neck.
Hoseok’s eyes lit up with playful fire despite his tiredness. “Oh, it’s on now.”
What started as gentle guidance exploded into pure chaotic fun.
Hoseok suddenly scooped a large handful of slippery clay from the wheel and flicked it at you like a playful weapon. It landed on your shoulder and chest with a wet splat, sliding down your apron in thick gray streaks.
You squealed and grabbed an even bigger clump, chasing him around the work table as he dodged with a bright laugh.
“Get back here!” you yelled, giggling wildly as you hurled the clay at his back. It exploded across his hoodie in a messy burst, leaving dripping trails down his spine.
Hoseok spun around, eyes sparkling with mischief, and retaliated by scooping two handfuls.
“You asked for it!” He lunged, smearing one handful straight down your arm and the other across your collarbone, the cool, slick mud sliding under the edge of your apron and making you shiver.
You both darted around the table like kids, clay flying in every direction.
A glob hit the wall with a slap.
Another landed on a shelf, knocking over a small dried bowl.
You slipped on a puddle of spilled clay on the floor, nearly falling, but Hoseok caught your wrist and pulled you upright only to immediately smear more mud across your forehead and nose with his thumb, laughing triumphantly.
“Look at you... you’re a disaster!” he teased, breathing hard.
“You’re worse!” you shot back, laughing so hard your stomach hurt.
You reached up into his hair, ruffling it until messy gray streaks stuck up in every direction. He growled playfully and grabbed your waist, spinning you around while his hands left perfect muddy handprints all over your hips and lower back.
Clay was everywhere... on the floor, the table, the walls, your clothes, his hoodie, your faces, your necks.
The once-neat studio looked like a battlefield of wet earth.
Your apron was utterly ruined, heavy with clinging mud. His black hoodie clung to his chest where the clay had soaked through, outlining every line of muscle.
You tried to escape again, but he caught you properly this time, arms wrapping tightly around your waist from behind and pulling your back flush against his chest. Both of you were breathing hard, laughing between gasps, bodies pressed together.
Your hands, thick with mud, slid up his arms, leaving long, slippery streaks. His hands gripped your hips firmly, pressing perfect clay handprints into your jeans and the sides of your apron.
The laughter slowly faded as the chaos settled, leaving only the sound of your heavy breathing and racing hearts.
You were still in his arms, back to his chest, but you turned your head to the side so you could look up at him over your shoulder. Your faces were now very close, clay-streaked cheeks almost touching.
Hoseok’s gaze darkened with clear want, his eyes dropping to your lips before returning to yours, thumbs stroking your hips through the slick mud.
“You know… this really does help with stress,” he said, voice low and rough. “But there’s another reason I keep coming back.”
Your heart pounded. “What’s that?”
His breath brushed warm against your ear and cheek.
“You.”
The playful chaos had shifted into something far more intense, intimate, and heated, the glorious mess only amplifying the electricity crackling between you.
You slowly turned around inside his embrace until you were facing him, your clay-covered chest pressing against his.
Hoseok’s eyes darkened instantly, his gaze dropping to your lips.
Before either of you could speak, he cupped your muddy face with both hands and crashed his mouth onto yours in a deep, hungry kiss.
The kiss was instantly messy and wet.
Clay smeared between your lips as you kissed, the slick mud making every movement slippery and sensual. Hoseok kissed you like he had been starving for you for months... deep, open-mouthed kisses that left wet sounds echoing softly in the studio.
His tongue slid against yours, tasting the faint earthiness of clay mixed with the sweetness of you. You moaned into his mouth, your mud-covered fingers threading into his already messy hair, pulling him closer.
“Mmm… Hoseok,” you gasped between kisses, lips barely parting. “You’re so… addictive.”
He groaned, kissing you harder, his tongue exploring your mouth with slow, sensual strokes. “God, you taste good even covered in this mess,” he murmured against your lips before diving back in, sucking gently on your lower lip, then biting it playfully.
Your hands roamed greedily over his shoulders and chest, leaving fresh gray handprints all over his hoodie. His hands slid down your back, gripping your waist and pulling you impossibly closer, smearing more mud across your apron and the curve of your ass.
The kiss grew more frantic, wetter, more desperate.
You could feel the cool clay squelching between your bodies as you pressed against each other. Hoseok tilted his head, deepening the angle, his tongue stroking yours in long, languid movements that made your knees weak.
“You have no idea how much I want this every damn time I see you,” he panted against your mouth, stealing another messy kiss. “Every lesson… every time you touch my hands… I want to pull you close and kiss you senseless.”
You smiled breathlessly into the kiss, nipping at his bottom lip. “Then stop talking and keep kissing me.”
He chuckled lowly, the sound vibrating into your mouth, before obeying. He pinned you gently but firmly backward against the edge of the large wooden work table, his body crowding yours.
With one smooth motion, he lifted you just enough to sit you on the table’s edge. Hoseok stood between your spread legs, hands gripping your thighs and leaving bold muddy handprints on your jeans.
He kissed you deeply again, tongues tangling wetly, saliva and clay mixing in a sensual slide. You wrapped your legs loosely around his hips, pulling him closer as your fingers tugged at the hem of his hoodie.
Half the clothes were already coming off in the frenzy.
You pushed his hoodie up, your muddy hands sliding over his toned stomach and chest, leaving perfect gray streaks across his bare skin. He broke the kiss just long enough to yank the hoodie off completely, tossing it somewhere on the floor, before diving back to your mouth.
Your own apron was pushed up and half untied, hanging loosely around your waist. Hoseok’s hands slipped under your t-shirt and skirt, palms gliding over your thighs and waist, spreading cool clay everywhere he touched.
“Fuck, you feel so good,” he groaned between kisses, his mouth trailing to your jaw, then your neck, sucking and licking the clay-streaked skin before returning to your lips. “So soft… so messy… I can’t get enough.”
You moaned loudly, arching into him as you kissed him back with equal hunger. Your hands explored his bare chest, fingers tracing every muscle and leaving muddy trails.
“Hoseok… you’re driving me crazy,” you whispered with giggle against his mouth. “Kiss me harder.”
He did exactly that... a long, wet, sensual kiss that left both of you breathless and covered in even more clay. Tongues danced, lips slid, soft moans and gasps filled the air.
Muddy handprints decorated your neck, his shoulders, your thighs, his chest, everywhere your hands had wandered during the heated makeout.
After what felt like an eternity of deep, messy kissing, Hoseok finally pulled back just enough to rest his forehead against yours. Both of you were panting, lips swollen and glistening with a mix of saliva and clay, faces and bodies streaked with gray-brown mud.
“Fuck…” he breathed, a breathless laugh escaping him as he looked at the absolute mess you’d both become. “We are such a mess right now… but I want more of you tonight. So much more.”
You smiled, still catching your breath, your fingers tracing lazy muddy patterns on his bare chest.
“I want more too,” you whispered. “There’s a small bathroom in the back with a shower. It's small but we can continue there… get cleaned up… or not.”
Hoseok’s eyes darkened again with fresh desire.
He leaned in and gave you one last slow, deep kiss, tongues sliding sensually before he pulled away with a smirk. “Lead the way, baby. I’m not done with you yet.”
“Then take me,” you whispered against his lips. “All of me.”
He smiled into the kiss, then pulled back just enough to look into your eyes. His hands moved to the hem of your t-shirt, fingers sliding underneath despite the mud.
“Can I?” he asked gently, voice full of affection.
You nodded, lifting your arms.
Hoseok peeled the muddy t-shirt off you slowly, revealing your bra. He tossed the t-shirt aside and immediately leaned in to press a soft kiss to your collarbone, right over a streak of clay.
“You’re beautiful even like this,” he murmured, hands gliding down your sides, leaving fresh handprints.
You reached for his jeans next, your fingers working the button and zipper with playful care. “Your turn,” you teased lightly, looking up at him with sparkling eyes. “These jeans are ruined anyway.”
Hoseok chuckled, helping you push the denim down his hips.
You slid them off completely, leaving him in just his black boxers. The clay had soaked through in places, making the fabric cling to him.
He returned the favor, his hands sliding under your skirt, palms warm and muddy against your thighs. “May I?” he asked again, ever gentle even in the middle of the chaos.
“Yes,” you breathed.
He unzipped and tugged your skirt down, letting it pool on the table.
Now you sat there in only your bra and panties, body decorated with his handprints and random clay smears. He stood between your legs in just his boxers, both of you half-naked, messy, and smiling at each other like it was the most natural thing in the world.
“Look at us,” you said with a soft giggle, tracing a heart shape in the clay on his chest with your finger. “We look like we survived a pottery war.”
Hoseok laughed warmly, catching your hand and bringing it to his lips for a kiss, even though it was covered in mud. “Best war I’ve ever been in. Because I get to have you at the end.”
He leaned in and kissed you again... slower this time, full of emotion. Then, without breaking the kiss, he slid his hands under your thighs and lifted you effortlessly.
You wrapped your legs around his torso, arms around his neck, as he carried you toward the small bathroom at the back of the studio.
The bathroom was tiny, just enough space for a shower stall, a sink, and a mirror. The moment you stepped inside, the air felt even more intimate, the clay scent mixing with the warm steam that would soon fill the room.
Hoseok set you down gently on the cool tile floor but kept you close, his hands never leaving your body. He turned on the shower, warm water cascading down immediately.
“Come here,” he whispered, pulling you under the spray with him.
The water hit you both, turning the dry clay into slippery mud that ran down your bodies. You tilted your head up and kissed him again under the falling water... a deep, wet, emotional kiss.
Tongues moved slowly, sensually, tasting each other as water washed over your faces.
While kissing, your hands reached behind you and unclasped your bra, letting it fall to the shower floor with a wet slap. Hoseok’s hands immediately cupped your breasts tenderly, thumbs brushing over your nipples as he groaned softly into your mouth.
“So perfect,” he whispered against your lips. “Every part of you.”
You slid your hands down his torso and hooked your fingers into the waistband of his boxers. “Can I take these off?” you asked softly, eyes searching his with a mix of desire and tenderness.
Hoseok’s breath hitched.
He nodded, resting his forehead gently against yours, water cascading between your faces. “Only if I can take yours off too,” he whispered, voice low and full of affection. “I want to feel all of you… without any barriers.”
You both smiled softly, the moment intimate and sweet despite the mess. Your fingers slowly tugged his boxers down his hips, letting them slide to the shower floor with a wet slap.
At the same time, Hoseok’s hands slipped into the sides of your panties, peeling them down your thighs with deliberate care. His palms brushed over your skin as he did, leaving faint clay trails that the water quickly washed away.
Now completely bare, bodies pressed flush together under the warm spray, the last bits of clay still streaking your skin in soft gray trails.
Hoseok didn’t pull away.
Instead, his hands moved upward, cupping your breasts tenderly. His thumbs circled your nipples slowly, rubbing them with gentle pressure as he watched your face.
“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, voice thick with emotion. “Even covered in all this clay… you take my breath away.”
You gasped softly at his touch, arching into his hands.
One of your hands slid down between your bodies, wrapping around his length. You stroked him slowly, lovingly, thumb brushing over the tip as the water made everything slick.
“Hoseok…” you whispered, eyes half-lidded. “You feel so good. I love feeling how hard you are for me.”
He groaned quietly, forehead still pressed to yours.
His free hand trailed lower, fingers teasingly brushing over your folds, parting them gently without rushing. He circled your clit with feather-light touches, then slid a finger along your entrance, teasing but not entering yet.
“And I love feeling how wet you are for me,” he breathed against your lips. “Not just from the shower… from us. From this.”
You moaned softly, your strokes on him becoming a little firmer, slower, matching the rhythm of his teasing fingers. “Keep touching me like that,” you pleaded in a whisper, kissing the corner of his mouth. “I want your hands everywhere tonight.”
Hoseok smiled tenderly, rubbing your breasts with one hand while his fingers continued their gentle exploration between your legs. “I will, baby. Every inch of you. I’ve waited so long to touch you like this… to show you how much you mean to me.”
He leaned in and captured your lips in a slow, deep kiss, tongues sliding sensually as the warm water poured over your bare, clay-streaked bodies.
You dropped to your knees on the wet tile, looking up at him with soft, loving eyes. The water streamed down your face as you took him into your mouth gently, lovingly.
Hoseok gasped, one hand gently threading into your wet hair, the other bracing against the tile wall.
“Y/N… baby…” he moaned softly, voice thick with emotion. “You don’t have to— mhmm… that feels so good. You look so beautiful like this.”
You hummed around him, taking your time, moving with slow, sensual care. Your hands rested on his thighs, thumbs stroking gently as you worked him with your mouth.
After a moment, you pulled back just enough to whisper, “I want to. I want to make you feel loved, Hoseok. Let me take care of you tonight.”
Hoseok’s eyes softened, filled with something deep and tender.
His fingers tightened slightly in your hair, not pushing, just holding you with affection. “God… you’re too good to me,” he breathed, voice shaky with pleasure and emotion.
“No one has ever made me feel this wanted… this cared for. You have no idea what you do to my heart, Y/N.”
You smiled softly before taking him back into your mouth, sucking gently while your tongue swirled around him. You pulled back again for a second, lips brushing against his tip as you looked up at him.
“I do it because I adore you. Every tired smile you give me, every late-night talk… I’ve been falling for you for months. This is me showing you how much.”
Hoseok let out a soft, emotional groan, his thumb tenderly stroking your cheek even as water poured over both of you. “I’m falling too… so hard. You make me feel safe. You make me feel seen. Keep going, baby… just like that. You’re perfect.”
You hummed again in response, continuing with slow, loving movements, your hands gently caressing his thighs and hips.
Hoseok’s breathing grew heavier, his voice dropping to a whisper full of warmth. “You’re not just pleasuring me… you’re loving me. And I feel it. Every single touch.”
Hoseok’s eyes softened even more, filled with deep tenderness.
He gently pulled you back up after a few minutes, kissing you passionately under the water.
“My turn to take care of you,” he murmured, voice warm and full of affection.
He gently pinned you so your back was against the cool tile wall.
The contrast of the cold surface and his warm, wet body made you shiver deliciously. Hoseok lifted one of your legs, wrapping it securely around his waist, and slowly, gently entered you, inch by inch, never rushing.
Both of you moaned at the same time, foreheads pressed together, eyes locked in an intimate gaze.
“Oh god… Hoseok,” you breathed, arms wrapping tightly around his neck. “You feel so good… so right inside me. Like you belong there.”
He moved slowly at first, deep, intimate thrusts that made your breath hitch with every roll of his hips. One hand cradled the back of your head protectively, the other gripping your hip with gentle strength, thumb stroking your skin.
“I’ve wanted this for so long,” he whispered against your lips between soft kisses. “Not just your body… you. Your heart. The way you see the real me when the whole world only sees the CEO.”
You smiled through the pleasure, tears of emotion mixing with the shower water on your cheeks as you kissed him deeply.
“I see you, Hoseok,” you whispered back, voice trembling with feeling. “The tired man who walked in exhausted that first night… the sweet, playful one who covers me in clay and still makes me laugh. I’m falling for you. Hard.”
He groaned softly, his hips moving with a little more purpose while still staying full of care and love. “Then I won't complain, baby. Because I have already fallen for you.”
He teased lightly, nipping at your bottom lip. “Though I have to admit… I didn’t expect to confess while buried inside you in a tiny shower. Very romantic of me, right?”
You let out a breathy laugh that turned into a moan as he hit a particularly deep spot.
“Very romantic,” you teased back, nails gently digging into his shoulders. “Covered in clay and water… my dream confession.”
Hoseok chuckled warmly, the sound vibrating through his chest into yours.
“Hey, at least it’s memorable. No boring dinner dates for us.” He kissed you again, slower and deeper this time. “But seriously… I like you so much. More than like. I want to date you properly. Not just secret pottery nights and hidden moments.”
You moaned softly as he thrust deeper, your walls clenching around him. “We already are… aren’t we?” you whispered playfully against his mouth.
He smiled, eyes sparkling with affection even through the pleasure. “No, not like this. I mean officially. Without hiding from the world. I want mornings with you, lazy breakfasts, quiet evenings where I can hold you without worrying about anyone seeing. I want everything with you, Y/N.”
Your heart swelled even more than the pleasure building in your body. You cupped his face, kissing him tenderly. “Yes… yes, If you are okay with that then I want that too,” you gasped, voice breaking into a soft moan. “I want to be yours, Hoseok. Just yours. No more hiding.”
He groaned, pressing his forehead to yours again. “Good. Because I’m already yours.”
He teased gently, slowing his thrusts for a moment just to drag it out. “Though I should warn you… dating a clumsy pottery student like me might involve a lot more mess.”
You laughed breathlessly, legs tightening around his waist. “I love the mess. Especially when it’s with you.”
Hoseok’s movements grew a little faster, deeper, but never rough, always grounded in emotion and connection.
Every thrust was slow and meaningful.
Every kiss was full of whispered words and soft, loving moans.
“I’m so glad I walked into this studio that night,” he whispered against your neck, lips brushing your wet skin. “You saved me from burning out… and you stole my heart without even trying. Sneaky girl.”
You smiled through the building pleasure, cupping his face and pulling him into another deep, emotional kiss.
“And you made me believe in love again,” you replied softly, voice full of warmth. “Right here, in all this beautiful, ridiculous mess. Who knew pottery could lead to this?”
He chuckled softly, then moaned as your bodies moved together perfectly. “Best stress relief ever. Way better than any article suggested.”
You both chased release together... eyes locked, breathing shared, hearts wide open. When the climax finally washed over you, it was intense yet incredibly tender, waves of pleasure mixed with overwhelming love and affection.
You clung to each other under the shower, trembling, kissing through every pulse of pleasure, soft whispers of each other’s names filling the small space.
Afterwards, Hoseok held you close, forehead resting against yours, water still cascading gently over your bodies.
“I meant every word,” he whispered, voice raw and sincere. “I want to date you, properly, Y/n. Not only when we’re together in this studio, we’ve been doing that for the last two months already, but it's not officially. I want it like without hiding from the world. For real. Will you be mine?”
You smiled, heart completely full, and kissed him softly, lingeringly.
“Yes, Hoseok. I’m already yours.”
He grinned brightly, pressing one last gentle kiss to your lips before reaching for the soap with a playful glint in his eyes.
“Then let’s get a little cleaner… so we can get messy again later.”
After the long, emotional, and incredibly intimate shower, both of you finally stepped out, bodies clean but minds still floating in that soft, glowing haze.
You wrapped a towel around yourself and padded to the small storage closet at the back of the studio where you kept spare clothes for late-night work sessions.
“I always keep extra pairs here,” you told Hoseok with a shy smile as you pulled out a simple oversized t-shirt and soft cotton shorts. “Never thought I’d need them because of… this kind of mess.”
Hoseok stood there with just a towel around his waist, hair still damp and messy, watching you with fond amusement. “Smart girl. Meanwhile, I have nothing but my very ruined hoodie and jeans.”
You laughed and tossed him the studio’s spare white bathrobe. “Here. Wear this for now. You look surprisingly good in anything… even a bathrobe that says ‘Moonlit Clay Studio’ on the pocket.”
He caught it and slipped it on, tying the belt loosely.
The robe was a little short on his tall frame, exposing his calves. He looked down at himself and burst out laughing. “I went from powerful CEO to spa-day uncle in under ten minutes. This is your fault.”
“My fault?” you teased, pulling your t-shirt over your head. “You’re the one who started the clay war, Mr. Jung.”
“Guilty,” he admitted, stepping closer to pull you into a quick, sweet kiss. “And I’d do it again.”
Once you were both somewhat decent, you walked back into the main studio area hand-in-hand.
The moment you stepped inside, both of you froze.
The studio looked like a crime scene.
Clay was smeared across the work table, splattered on the walls, pooled on the floor in sticky puddles, and even decorated the shelves. Your poor pottery wheel sat sadly with a completely collapsed, unrecognizable blob still on it.
Handprints... some innocent, some very suggestive were everywhere.
You and Hoseok stared at the disaster in silence for three full seconds.
Then you turned to look at each other at the same time.
“Bad decisions,” you said slowly.
“Terrible decisions,” Hoseok agreed, nodding solemnly.
A second passed.
“…Zero regrets,” you both said at the exact same time, then immediately started laughing.
Hoseok shook his head, still chuckling. “We are never living this down.”
He suddenly bent down, scooped you up bridal-style without warning, making you squeak in surprise.
“Hoseok!” you laughed, arms automatically wrapping around his neck. “What are you doing?”
“You should rest,” he said firmly, carrying you toward the small couch in the corner of the studio. “You’ve been up all night because of me. I’ll clean this mess.”
He gently laid you down on the couch, tucking a cushion under your head.
You immediately tried to sit up. “No way. I’m helping you. This is my studio, and half this mess is my fault too—”
He shut you up with a soft, lingering kiss, his hand cupping your cheek. When he pulled back, he tucked a stray strand of damp hair behind your ear and smiled tenderly.
“No. You rest. It won’t take much time. Doctor’s orders.”
“You’re not a doctor,” you protested with a pout.
“CEO privileges. I can be whatever I want right now,” he teased, booping your nose. “Especially when my girlfriend looks this cute when she’s tired.”
You opened your mouth to argue again, but he was already walking away, grabbing cleaning supplies with dramatic flair.
It was already 4:17 AM.
By 5:30 AM, you had given up on resting and joined him anyway. The two of you worked side by side, wiping walls, mopping floors, and scrubbing handprints while constantly teasing each other.
“You missed a spot,” you pointed out, giggling as you flicked a tiny bit of dried clay at his bathrobe.
Hoseok narrowed his eyes playfully. “Keep that up and I’ll put you back on that couch by force.”
Around 6.30 AM, Hoseok finally pulled out his phone with a sigh. “I have an important client meeting at 9. I need to look like a respectable CEO again.”
He dialed quickly. “Minji? Yeah, it’s me. I need you to bring me a fresh suit, shirt, and tie to the studio... Yes, the pottery studio... And shoes. Don’t ask questions... Just come fast.”
Forty minutes later, Minji arrived carrying a garment bag and a small duffel.
The moment she stepped inside and saw the half-cleaned chaos, plus you and Hoseok, still in a bathrobe wiping the last of the clay off the table, her eyes widened comically.
“OMG… what the hell happened here?!” she exclaimed, mouth falling open.
You straightened up quickly, offering an awkward smile and a little wave with your cleaning cloth. “Hi… you must be Minji, right? I’ve heard a lot about you.”
Before Minji could respond, Hoseok walked over casually, still wearing the slightly ridiculous bathrobe, and placed a hand on your lower back.
“Minji,” he said smoothly, without any warning, “this is Y/N. My girlfriend.”
Minji blinked once. Twice.
Hoseok continued with a mischievous grin, gesturing at the mess around them. “Now you can probably understand what the hell happened here.”
Minji made a choking sound, her face turning bright red as realization hit her. “Sir... I... oh my god—”
You swatted Hoseok’s shoulder, mortified.
“Hoseok! Don’t say it like that!” You turned to Minji immediately, bowing your head slightly. “I’m so sorry. He has no filter sometimes. Please ignore him.”
Minji waved her hands rapidly, still coughing a little.
“No, no, no need to apologize! Really! I’m… I’m actually really happy for you both.” She looked at Hoseok with genuine warmth.
“Especially you, sir. You’ve looked so much happier and relaxed these past few weeks. I kept wondering what changed. I thought it was really just the pottery classes… but now I know it wasn’t just pottery.”
Hoseok laughed softly, pulling you closer to his side. “Caught red-handed. Or should I say… clay-handed.”
You groaned, hiding your face against his arm in embarrassment. “You’re enjoying this way too much.”
Minji smiled brightly, clearly trying to hold back her own laughter. “Anyway, the client meeting is at 9 sharp. You should probably get changed soon, sir. I brought everything you asked for.”
She handed over the garment bag, then gave you a small, kind nod. “It was nice meeting you, Y/N. Officially.”
“Nice meeting you too, Minji,” you replied, still a little flushed.
As Minji turned to leave, she paused at the door and looked back with a playful glint in her eyes. “Try not to destroy the studio again like a crime scene.”
Hoseok grinned. “No promises.”
Once the door closed behind her, you turned and swatted his chest again.
“You’re impossible!” you laughed.
Hoseok caught your hand and brought it to his lips, kissing your knuckles with a soft, mischievous smile. “But I’m your impossible now.”
Weeks had passed since that chaotic, clay-covered night that changed everything.
You and Hoseok were now officially dating, still keeping things relatively private, but no longer hiding from the people closest to you.
Today was a special day.
For the first time, Hoseok had invited you to visit him at Jung International headquarters.
You stood outside the towering glass building in the heart of Seoul’s business district, feeling a little nervous. The skyscraper looked impossibly grand and intimidating. You hesitated at the entrance, clutching your purse nervously.
They’re probably not going to let me in just like that, you thought. It’s a huge company. I’ll need Hoseok or Minji to come down and confirm.
Taking a deep breath, you walked toward the security gate.
To your surprise, both guards immediately straightened up and bowed respectfully the moment they saw you.
“Good afternoon, Miss Y/N,” one of them said with a warm smile. “Mr. Jung informed us you would be visiting today. Please, go right in. Have a pleasant day.”
You blinked, stunned. “Oh… thank you?”
They opened the gate without asking for ID or making a single call. You walked through feeling completely dazed.
When you reached the elegant marble reception desk on the ground floor, the receptionist, a polished young woman in a neat uniform — looked up and her face instantly lit up with excitement.
“Miss Y/N! You’re here!” she exclaimed happily, almost bouncing in her seat. “Mr. Jung told us to expect you. His office is on the 42nd floor. Private elevator on the right, it’s already programmed to take you straight up. No need to stop anywhere else.”
You stared at her, mouth slightly open. “You… you know who I am?”
“Of course!” she said with a bright grin. “We were all told to welcome you warmly. Mr. Jung was very specific. Would you like me to escort you up?”
“N-no, it’s okay,” you managed, still in shock. “Thank you so much.”
You stepped into the private elevator, heart fluttering the entire ride up.
When the doors opened on the 42nd floor, you stepped into a sleek, modern office wing that felt more like a luxury lounge than a workplace.
At the end of the corridor stood Hoseok’s office.
The door was slightly ajar.
You pushed it open gently and stepped inside.
Hoseok was standing by the floor-to-ceiling mirror windows, hands in his pockets, looking out at the stunning city skyline.
He was wearing a perfectly tailored charcoal suit, but the moment he heard you enter, he turned around with the brightest, softest smile you had ever seen.
“There you are,” he said warmly, crossing the room in a few strides and pulling you into his arms. “My favorite visitor.”
You melted into his hug, breathing in his familiar scent. “Hoseok… Everyone here knows me. The security guards bowed and let me in without any question. The receptionist greeted me like I was a VIP. How…?”
Hoseok chuckled, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear and pressing a kiss to the top of your head.
“Because you are a VIP, baby. I told them my girlfriend was coming today and that they should treat you like royalty. I wanted you to feel welcome from the second you arrived.”
He pulled back slightly, eyes sparkling with mischief. “Did it make you nervous?”
“A little!” you admitted, laughing.
“I was ready to stand at the gate and wait for Minji to come rescue me!” you laughed, still a little flustered. “I thought they’d ask for ID or call someone. Instead, they bowed and smiled like I was the boss’s wife or something.”
Hoseok’s eyes sparkled with amusement and affection. “Well… you kind of are. At least in my heart.”
You swatted his chest playfully. “Stop being so smooth. My heart can’t handle it.”
He chuckled but you continued, “What if I wasn’t dressed nicely enough?”
He looked you up and down with an exaggerated appreciative gaze. “Baby, you could show up in clay-covered overalls and they’d still roll out the red carpet. Though… I wouldn’t mind seeing you in those overalls again. Brings back memories.”
You swatted his chest playfully. “Behave. This is your serious CEO office, not the studio.”
“Exactly,” he grinned, tugging you closer. “Which means I get to kiss my girlfriend in my serious CEO office.”
He leaned in and gave you a sweet, lingering kiss that made your toes curl.
When you finally pulled away, your eyes wandered around the elegant space... minimalist furniture, awards on the shelves, and that breathtaking view.
Then something in the corner of his large oak desk caught your attention.
Your breath hitched.
There, displayed proudly on a small wooden stand, was the shapeless vase from that unforgettable night, the collapsed, ridiculous blob that had formed when you two shared your first kiss months ago.
It had been beautifully glazed in soft matte white with delicate gold accents, turning the “ruined” piece into a charming, abstract little sculpture.
Tears instantly welled up in your eyes.
“Hoseok…” you whispered, walking closer. “You kept it? You actually had it fired and glazed?”
Hoseok came up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder.
“Of course I kept it,” he said softly, voice full of warmth. “That night was the beginning of everything for me. When we kissed, when I realized I couldn’t stop thinking about you… that silly piece became “peace” for me, my favorite thing in this entire office.”
You turned in his arms, tears slipping down your cheeks. “I told you it was worthless! I said, ‘What will you even do with this shapeless disaster?’ And you still took it home that night.”
Hoseok smiled tenderly, gently wiping your tears with his thumbs.
“And I told you it wasn’t a disaster. It was perfect. Because it was made the night I started falling in love with you.” He kissed your forehead.
“Every time I feel stressed or overwhelmed, I look at it and remember you laughing, your smile, your voice. It reminds me of you. And it brings me a different kind of peace.”
You let out a watery laugh and hugged him tightly. “You’re going to make me cry all over your expensive suit.”
“Good,” he teased, rocking you gently. “Then I’ll have an excuse to take it off and change into something more comfortable… like that ridiculous bathrobe from the studio.”
You pulled back, giggling. “Oh no. Not the bathrobe again. You looked ridiculous in that thing.”
Hoseok gasped dramatically, placing a hand over his heart. “Excuse me? I looked incredibly sexy in that bathrobe. Minji also approved.”
“Minji was just being polite because you’re her boss!” you laughed, poking his chest. “I still have the photo I secretly took that morning. Blackmail material for life.”
His eyes widened in mock horror. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“Try me, Mr. CEO,” you teased, raising an eyebrow.
Hoseok suddenly scooped you up in his arms, making you squeal as he carried you toward the couch in the corner of his office.
“Put me down!” you protested through laughter.
“Nope. Girlfriend privileges revoked for threatening blackmail,” he declared, sitting down with you on his lap. He nuzzled into your neck, placing playful kisses there. “Now you have to stay here and keep me company while I pretend to work.”
You wrapped your arms around his neck, smiling softly. “Fine. But only if you promise to take me out for dinner after your meetings. Somewhere normal, not too fancy.”
“Deal,” he murmured, kissing the corner of your mouth. “Though I reserve the right to get you a little messy with dessert.”
You laughed and rested your forehead against his. “I love you, you know that?”
Hoseok’s expression softened into something incredibly tender. “I love you too. More than anything.”
In the quiet luxury of his office, with the city sparkling below and your precious, shapeless memory sitting proudly on his desk, everything felt perfectly, beautifully right.
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