Bangtan Christmas 2023 drabble 1 - read the rest here.
Paediatrician Dr Jung Hoseok is beloved by all his patients and everyone he works with. Unfortunately, his cheerful demeanour is only a front, underneath it all, he's a humbug.
Pairing: Hoseok x f! reader
Genre: Paediatrician Hoseok, social worker reader, fluff, smut
Rating: 18+
Word count: 6k
Warnings: Sex, swearing, medical emergencies
Hoseok looks up from the computer screen at the sound of his name. His eyes take a moment to adjust, the screen’s the brightest light in the otherwise darkened paediatric ward.
The nurse, Jihyo, holds out a mug of coffee, just how he likes it.
Hoseok accepts gratefully, stares at the words on the side of the mug.
Big patience for little patients.
He blinks, indifferent, and goes back to prescribing.
His phone rings, muted because it’s 3am but he can hear it loud and clear.
He lifts it to his ear. ‘Dr Jung,’ he says by way of greeting.
‘You’re needed in the ER,’ comes the crisp tone of the ER charge nurse.
Hoseok sighs, doesn’t bother to ask why. ‘I’ll be there in 5.’
He hangs up, signs the chart and gulps the rest of his coffee, scorching his tongue and the roof of his mouth but preferring the burn to the desolate pang of his empty stomach.
The dry sandwich he’d bolted at 6pm the day before is nothing but a distant memory, churning its partially digested way through his intestines.
He takes a shortcut to the ER, cutting through the works alley between buildings.
Ironic that he has to pass the unofficial smoker’s alley to get fresh air.
Kim Namjoon, his friend and the resident cardiothoracics surgeon, nods and waves a vape pen at him in greeting.
Hoseok lifts a hand back, pushes the back entrance door open that someone’s propped open with a brick, hospital security be damned, re-enters the hospital next to the mortuary.
He glances askance at the double doors. It always makes him feel a little twitchy passing the morgue in the early hours of the morning.
He reminds himself he’s a grown adult as he picks up the pace, allows himself a little sigh of relief as he turns the corner and sees the bright lights of radiology.
He’s greeted by a cacophony of noises as he enters the ER, monitors beeping, people barking out instructions, distant sirens as ambulances pull up to the drop off.
He narrows his eyes against the fluorescent white strip lighting, looking around for the charge nurse’s familiar navy tunic.
He spots her by the resus bay, grimaces a bit at the carnage from a trauma that hasn’t been cleaned up.
‘Called for a paediatric consult?’
The charge nurse nods, brisk, waves an arm in the vague direction of the paediatric area.
‘15 year old, intoxicated.’
With that she’s off, and Hoseok trudges away.
The atmosphere in the paediatric area is less jarring, not so much because of the cheerful murals on the walls, but because it’s quieter, less hectic.
Hoseok assesses a teenager in a glittery jumpsuit who smells so strongly of alcohol and hairspray he reminds him of his own high school leaving prom.
He does an assessment, makes the mistake of asking the teen if he wants a drink on his way out of the exam room.
The teen chortles gleefully.
‘Yeah, gin and tonic, hold the tonic!’
Hoseok rolls his eyes as he exits.
He’s looking for a free computer to write up his notes when there’s movement in the periphery of his vision.
‘Need a computer?’ you ask.
Hoseok blinks to wake himself up. You’re way too pretty considering the early hour. Judging by your attire, more casual than smart, your carelessly styled hair, he makes an educated guess.
‘Are you with social services?’
‘Y/N, duty social worker,’ you confirm, nodding towards the exam room he’s just exited. ‘Jaebeom’s one of ours.’
‘Yeah?’ Hoseok asks. ‘I’m Hoseok, paediatrics. I’m admitting him until he sobers up.’
You nod. ‘His foster carer can pick him up in the morning, she’s got another child that she needs to drop off at school.’
You look around, yawning delicately behind your hand. ‘Is there a place to get coffee around here at this time?’
There’s an on-call room waiting for him, a bed, but Hoseok doesn’t hesitate.
‘If you have five minutes for me to write up my notes, I can take you to the lounge?’
You give him a look he doesn’t bother to interpret, it’s now 4am and if you say no he can always go to bed.
‘Yeah,’ you say. ‘Thanks.’
Hoseok types up his notes with you sitting in one of the empty chairs in the otherwise deserted paediatric department.
When he logs off he’s amused to find you engrossed in sorting shapes to slot into a sphere.
‘I can give you a few more minutes if you want,’ he says, dry.
You laugh. ‘I’ll be quicker once I’ve had caffeine.’
You follow him down the corridor towards the main hospital to the lounge.
Hoseok swipes his ID badge, pushes the door open.
You take in the ancient mismatched couches, the big screen TV, the tiny kitchenette with the top-of-the-line coffee machine, the chipped mugs drying next to the sink.
‘So this is how doctors roll, huh?’ you say.
Hoseok laughs. ‘Yeah baby, stick with me and I’ll show you a good time.’
He waggles his eyebrows, and you burst out laughing.
Hoseok’s struck by your smile and the way your eyes light up. He clears his throat, tells himself to stop staring at you like a creep.
‘Latte?’ he offers, picking up the nicest mug he can see.
‘Yeah, thanks,’ you say.
You’re fishing in your bag, emerging with a half-opened package of cookies.
He exchanges your coffee for a cookie, gestures to one of the couches.
He’s not expecting you to sit next to him, there’s plenty of space, but after a moment, you choose the seat beside him.
You sip your coffees in silence.
‘Been busy?’ you ask.
‘Yeah, a little,’ Hoseok replies.
Up close like this, he can see the tiny piercings in your ear, the gleam of gold through the fall of your hair.
Again, he pulls himself together with effort.
‘Have you been busy?’ he asks.
You stretch a little. ‘Yeah. We’re short-staffed, like always. Also something about the cold weather makes people be shits to each other.’
Hoseok’s not surprised. Winter’s always hard, fuck Christmas spirit and all that jazz.
‘I hear you,’ he says.
You sip your coffee, offer him another cookie which he accepts.
Your phone rings in your bag, you glance at him as you fish your phone out.
‘Duty calls,’ you say ruefully. ‘Thanks for the coffee.’
Hoseok’s about to bid you goodbye when you lean towards him, close, thumb brushing a corner of his mouth so quickly he barely registers it before you’re pulling your hand away.
‘Crumbs,’ you say. There’s the tiniest twinkle in your eye.
Hoseok’s voice comes out raspy as he says, ‘Thanks.’
‘See you around, doc.’
You’re not waiting for an answer, shouldering your bag, tossing him one last look on your way out.
Hoseok leans back against the couch, willing his heartrate to decelerate.
Outside, the darkest part of the night’s just about over.
***
Hoseok’s working hard to keep his bright smile on today.
He’s had a parent ask him if he has kids and then tell him he couldn’t possibly understand how precious their child is, as he doesn’t have children of his own.
He got an email from a conference he’s applied to saying due to the huge number of applicants, his abstract wasn’t selected for presentation.
His intern, Hyunjin, seems to be on a mission to aggravate him as much as possible.
‘We need a derm consult,’ Hyunjin tells him at the end of presenting the patient he’s just seen.
Hoseok closes his eyes briefly, desperately summoning what remains of his rapidly dwindling stores of patience.
‘Why do we need a derm consult, Dr Park?’ he tries not to bark.
‘This patient has verrucas.’
Hoseok blinks, takes a breath.
‘This patient needs nebulised albuterol and oxygen and an admission to paediatrics. The verrucas can wait until he gets better and the mom can stop by a pharmacy for some over-the-counter verruca treatment.’
Hyunjin stares at him.
‘He’s satting in the low nineties,’ Hoseok points out, words coming out brisk, staccato. ‘I can hear him wheezing from here.’
The ER nurse behind Hyunjin’s already tutting and prepping the neb.
‘Was there anything else, Hyunjin?’ Hoseok asks, getting up, staring at the rapidly expanding list of patients waiting for a paediatric consult.
His phone rings, and he pulls it out of his pocket with a sigh.
‘Dr Jung,’ he says.
‘Is that Hoseok?’
The voice is vaguely familiar, but he can’t place it.
‘Depends who’s asking,’ he snaps.
‘It’s Y/N, the social worker. You got me coffee last week at 4am?’
Hoseok has a flash of a memory, of your hand on his face.
‘Shit, sorry,’ he says, running a hand through his hair, already sticking straight up in all directions, courtesy of the shitty haircut he got in the barbershop on his way in.
‘Rough day, huh?’ you say, the sympathy in your voice making warmth bloom in his chest.
‘Yeah.’
‘I was wondering if you wanted to go to dinner after work today,’ you ask, no preamble, so direct Hoseok takes a moment to process.
‘I’d love to,’ he says. ‘I don’t get off until 8, though.’
‘I finish at 8 too,’ you say. ‘That works for me.’
You exchange numbers, and you promise to text him details.
‘Hope your day gets better, Dr Jung,’ you say, the teasing note in your voice making him smile, genuinely, for the first time, today.
‘It already is,’ he says.
He’s still smiling when he hangs up.
‘Hoseok,’ comes a voice from behind him.
Hoseok raises a brow inquiringly at Hyunjin, who, inexplicably, is still standing there.
‘About the verrucas,’ begins Hyunjin.
‘Nope,’ Hoseok says, pleasantly, still smiling.
He brushes past Hyunjin and picks up the next consult.
***
It’s ten to eight and thank fuck for that, because Hoseok’s had enough of today.
He’s getting changed out of the scrubs he was forced to change into after he was projectile vomited on by a chubby 10 month old, grateful he has spare clothes in his locker, when the door to the changing rooms opens.
Hoseok pauses, shirtless, hands on the tie of his scrubs bottoms.
Hyunjin blinks at him.
‘Nice abs, boss,’ he says.
Hoseok eyes both the fluffy white tee he was about to change into and the scrubs top he’s just discarded, questioning why he ever thought going into medicine was a good idea.
He grits his teeth.
‘Yes, Hyunjin?’
‘There’s a blue light call - breathless five year old, ETA 3 minutes.’
‘Jisoo is on tonight, let her know,’ Hoseok replies. ‘Also, close the door, damnit.’
Hyunjin looks surprised at the three medical students who have clustered behind him, all of whom are staring at Hoseok wide-eyed.
‘Jisoo’s going to be twenty minutes late, something about a train breakdown?’
Hyunjin’s got the wisdom to stay out of Hoseok’s reach.
Hoseok’s hand lands on his soft t-shirt, longingly.
With a sigh, he bypasses it and reaches for his scrubs top, pulling it over his head.
‘I’ll be right there,’ he says.
***
By the time Hoseok’s assessed the breathless patient and handed over to an apologetic Jisoo, the time on the clock on the wall says 9pm.
Hoseok pulls his phone out, dials your number.
You answer on the first ring.
Without waiting for him to say anything, you say, ‘The food’s still hot, I took the liberty of ordering for you. Are you on your way?’
Hoseok breathes out, a sigh of relief so profound he feels lightheaded.
‘Marry me,’ he says. ‘I’ll be there in ten.’
He gets dressed in record time, emerges out of the carnage of the ER like a phoenix rising from the ashes.
You’re the first person he sees when he gets to the restaurant, and you’re the best thing he’s seen all day.
He greets you with a hug and a cheek kiss that you weren’t expecting, judging by the shy smile on your pretty face.
‘I —’ you start, then you stop, adorably flustered.
‘You’re beautiful,’ Hoseok says. ‘I’ve been looking forward to this all day.’
‘I was just going to say I ordered tempura that’s on its way,’ you say.
‘I’m sorry I’m so late,’ Hoseok says. He’s got his hand on yours on the table without any memory of how it got there, but he likes the feel of it.
‘Make it up to me,’ you say, easy.
‘I’m going to do my best,’ he promises.
***
At least four people have seen Hoseok’s bare chest today, but you’re the only person he cares about impressing, at least right at this moment.
Because holy fuck, you’re beautiful, pressed tight to him on your poky couch, mouth on his, lips and teeth clashing as he kisses you over and over.
You’re making noises that are driving him slightly crazy, making him feel hot and desperate, and he has to stop himself from looking at your tits in that black bra or he’s going to embarrass himself.
Shit.
Your hand’s slid down, brushing over his dick, and he’s so hard already he has to will himself not to nut right now.
He tugs experimentally at the strap of your bra, and when you don’t protest he tugs it down, cups the weight of your left breast.
God, you feel so good. Soft, warm, exposed nipple begging to be kissed.
He runs his thumb over your areola, a slow pass.
The low moan you let out gives him the confidence to scrape the tip of his nail over the peak of your breast.
‘God, take it off, Hoseok,’ you tell him, and Hoseok’s sure as hell not going to make you ask twice.
He slides a hand around your bare back, unhooks your bra, can’t stop himself from looking.
His dick, already trying to stand at attention in its denim prison, twitches at the sight of your bared breasts.
Hoseok’s trying to remember what colour briefs he has on, if it’ll be obvious when he takes his jeans off that he’s leaking precum just from looking at your tits.
Then you cup the length of him over his jeans, and he finds he doesn’t give a fuck.
Your skirt’s ridden up, your thighs part under his hand encouragingly.
You’re so soft Hoseok can’t suppress a groan.
He hooks a couple fingers under the gusset of your panties, tugs, and your hand lands on his.
Hoseok looks up, hand stilling.
Hoseok’s been told that he has a gorgeous smile, but just at this moment, you’re the one who’s blinding him.
‘You can touch,’ you say, voice husky, teeth in your bottom lip.
‘Yeah?’ Hoseok asks, his own voice raspy, dropped low.
‘Yeah.’
‘Can I taste?’
You help him tug your panties down, over the curve of your ass that he can’t resist squeezing.
He tugs the flimsy cotton down your thighs, helps you slide a leg out.
He realises, belatedly, that you never answered his question, but you don’t seem to mind as he bends down, flicks his tongue against your pretty cunt.
Damn, you sound even prettier when he’s eating you out.
Hoseok licks into your folds, nudges your clit.
He doesn’t have any hangups about giving head, especially not in a girl like you who seems to enjoy everything he’s doing.
‘Shit, Hoseok,’ you moan, breathless, eyes squeezed shut.
He pushes a finger into you, curls it, and you cry out so loudly his cock hardens even more.
He tugs at the button fly of his jeans, loosening them for a little relief.
‘Please tell me you have a condom,’ you plead, voice thick, so sexy Hoseok can’t believe you’re under him like this.
‘Yeah,’ he says. ‘Why don’t you come and I’ll fuck you?’
‘Fuck me now,’ you tell him.
Hoseok seals his lips around your clit, flicks his tongue, slips another finger into you, scissoring, pressing, slow, making every movement count.
‘Hoseok!’
He doesn’t reply, because he can tell by the way your thighs are shaking that you’re close.
He just needs another minute.
He doesn’t know if you’ve realised that your fingers are in his hair, pulling, but he’s taking it as a positive.
He keeps doing what he’s doing with his tongue, because you seem to like it.
Your cunt tightens around his fingers, you call his name again, buck your hips into his face, and Hoseok doesn’t even need you to tell him you’re coming because he can feel you pulsing, can hear it in your voice, can feel the way everything tightens as you reach your peak.
It’s the hottest thing he’s seen in a while.
Fuck.
Hoseok draws himself out of jeans, takes himself in hand, pumps once.
You haven’t forgotten him.
‘Get inside, Hoseok,’ you say, and as he fishes the condom out of his jeans you flip it out of his grasp and rip it with your teeth.
Hoseok closes his eyes as you squeeze the tip and roll it onto his dick, concentrating on not coming in your grasp.
You push him back onto the couch, get on top of him, and Hoseok could weep at the view.
Your hair’s a mess, your lips bitten and flushed, and goddamn, your tits need to be in a museum.
He doesn’t realise he’s said that last bit out loud until you burst out laughing.
‘Shut up, Hoseok,’ you tell him, but you’re still riding him so there’s that.
Hoseok grabs your hips, helps you move even though you’re doing a pretty damn good job already.
‘You like this, Hoseok?’ you ask.
Hoseok flexes his cock inside you. ‘Yeah,’ he says.
‘I like it too.’
‘Yeah?’
You lean forward, tits bouncing in front of his face, and Hoseok thinks that if he died right now, smothered in between your breasts, he wouldn’t mind one bit.
‘Go on, baby, take what you want,’ you say.
Hoseok bucks his hips hard, up into the wet warmth of your cunt, tugs your head down to kiss you deep, open-mouthed, and comes with a groan, deep in his chest.
Bliss.
***
Hoseok wakes in a bed he doesn’t remember getting into, a bedroom that he finds soothing, with its neutral colours and soft sunlight filtering in the crack between the curtains.
There’s an arm flung across his chest, the soft curve of a breast against his chest.
You’re turned away, boneless, in a deep sleep.
His incorrigible cock stirs as he takes in the line of your back, down to the tempting curve of your ass.
He spots the clock on the wall, groans when he realises he should really be up now if he wants to get to work on time.
You’re still dead asleep even after he’s fully dressed, splayed out in the sheets, gloriously naked.
Hoseok pulls the duvet over your bare shoulder, resists the urge to kiss your upturned cheek, and makes sure the door’s locked behind him as he leaves.
***
Hoseok tightens his scarf around his neck as he waits for you at the entrance to the Christmas market you’ve managed to convince him to accompany you to.
The fact is, he hates the cold, he thinks all Christmas markets are gimmicky and overpriced, and after a run of incredibly busy shifts, he’d much rather be in bed with you right now than here.
Hoseok sidesteps neatly as he’s approached by a jovial couple dressed as Father Christmas and Mrs Klaus.
He’s about to pull his phone out to check on you when you hurry up to him, tuck your arm in his.
‘Hobi! You weren’t waiting long, were you?’
Hoseok looks at your bright smile and can’t bring himself to say anything other than ‘no, not long.’
Your lips are cold, but the kiss you plant on his cheek, next to his mouth, goes a long way towards improving his mood.
He doesn’t even give the three elves handing out tiny candy canes a dirty look.
‘Crepes?’ you suggest, seemingly oblivious to the fact that the longest queue is in front of the crepe stand.
‘Sure,’ Hoseok agrees.
You get in line and immediately turn to him, sliding your arms around his waist, under his coat.
‘How’ve you been?’ you ask.
Hoseok and you have met up a couple times over the last three weeks, enough that he’s left a spare shirt and some toiletries at your place.
You’re sweet, and fun, and he hopes you like him as much as he’s starting to like you.
‘I’m better now,’ he says, just so he can admire the glow of your smile.
‘You’re cheesy,’ you say, but the brightness in your eyes tells him you don’t mind.
‘Nah,’ Hoseok replies. ‘You dragged us to this Christmas market, I know you’ve got your eye on one of those tacky reindeer tree ornaments, you don’t get to call me cheesy.’
‘I like the blue one,’ you say, conceding so easily Hoseok has to smile.
‘Wait here, I’ll go and get it,’ he says.
‘What crepe do you want?’ you ask, as he pulls away.
‘Surprise me,’ he tells you.
Hoseok walks over to the ornament stall you’ve been eyeing for the past five minutes, picks out the blue ornament, hesitates over the collection of tiny gold Christmas bauble earrings.
He makes a decision, pays, shoves his purchases into his coat pocket and walks back to you.
You hold a crepe out to him, and he accepts with a ‘thanks’, taking the warm paper-wrapped bundle out of your hand and taking a bite.
The warm melted chocolate floods his taste buds, and he tries not to moan at the gooey sweetness of it.
‘Good, right?’ you ask. ‘Worth the wait.’
You’re not waiting for an answer, skipping ahead, heading for the chestnuts and hot chocolate like you’re a walking Christmas cliche.
Hoseok follows behind you. He finds he doesn’t really mind.
***
You stick your key in the lock, unlock the door to your apartment, don’t bother with the lights before you turn around and slide your hands up Hoseok’s chest, fingers tucked under the lapels of his coat.
Hoseok doesn’t have a lot to say, not when you’re looking up at him, lips pouted for a kiss.
He slips a hand around the back of your neck, cupping your head, and tilts his head down to yours.
‘Mmmm,’ you murmur. ‘You taste like chocolate.’
Hoseok leans down again, kisses you deep, tongue sliding into your mouth.
‘It’s cold,’ he says. ‘Warm me up.’
He’s only half-serious, having you pressed against him like this is doing a hell of a job of warming him up.
The wicked gleam in your eye gets him the rest of the way.
‘Come on. Want to take a bath?’ you ask.
Hoseok makes out with you in front of the mirror in your bathroom whilst the tub fills, is a short second away from guiding his cock between your legs when you pull away, bend over in front of him to test the temperature.
‘Get in,’ you say, and Hoseok’s always been good at following instructions.
He slides into the warm heat of the bath, groans at the feel of it, reaches out to steady you as you climb in on top of him, right into his lap, impatient like he feels.
You look so good bare and wet like this, the steam making tendrils of your hair curl against your neck, the tops of your breasts visible above the water line. Hoseok hadn’t thought he could get any harder but he does.
‘Sit on me,’ he says, and there’s a slosh of water, wet skin against wet skin, and then the slippery warmth of your cunt, taking him in.
The tips of your breasts jiggle in front of him as you move, and between the tightness of your walls around him and the prettiness of your moans, Hoseok’s in heaven.
He slips a hand around your hips, helping you ride him, and curls his hand around your breast, lifting it out of the water so he can suck.
You cry his name as he flicks his tongue over your nipple, and Hoseok squeezes the flesh of your hip, tight, under the water.
Your rhythm’s erratic but it’s making the pleasure build, short, tight circles of your hips against his.
‘Hoseok,’ you moan.
‘Yeah?’ he mumbles, lips around the peak of your breast.
He flexes his cock inside you, hums in satisfaction at the way your face goes slack, eyes half closed.
Shit, you look so pretty in the throes of pleasure.
Hoseok slides a hand up, fingers curling around your neck, thumb pressed into the hollow between your collarbones.
Your voice is hoarse now, raspy like his, as he urges, ‘Go on, take it.’
He presses down, you gasp, and lose your rhythm entirely as you come around his cock, walls spasming around him.
Hoseok takes over, fucking you through it, hardening until he comes with a low grunt.
Wet, slick, warm.
You’re tired, he can tell, the way you’re slumping against his chest.
‘Come on,’ he says. ‘I’ll wash us off.’
He coaxes you into your shower with him, soaps over the marks he’s made on your skin, wraps you into a towel.
By the time you’re both in bed, you’re more asleep than awake.
‘Work tomorrow?’ you ask.
‘I’m working,’ Hoseok tells you. ‘Want me to set an alarm for you?’
He doesn’t get an answer, you’re asleep on his chest already.
He should get up, switch some lights off, but a moment later, he’s asleep too.
***
Hoseok never thought he’d see the day he would want Hyunjin to be around, but he’s getting slammed, and the way things are looking, he needs all hands on deck.
He’s jogging down the corridor to his second emergency call for the day despite it being only 10am. It’s busy even for the holidays.
‘House fire,’ barks Mira, the ER charge nurse as Hoseok snaps on gloves. ‘Three children, five minutes out.’
‘How bad?’ asks Hoseok, prepping an IV access kit.
‘PICU are aware, they’re sending backup when they can but they’ve got their own internal collapse, they’re dealing with an arrest on the neurosurgical ward,’ Mira replies.
The doors slide open, and Hoseok can already tell from the looks on the paramedics’ faces that it’s not looking good.
Fucking hell, where’s Hyunjin, what a day to be in resus training instead of on the floor.
The second patient’s wheeled in as the first is still being parked, and Hoseok’s surprised to see you accompanying them, covered in soot, but he doesn’t have time to process now.
All he can do is deal with what’s in front of him, so that’s what he does.
***
It’s well into the afternoon by the time all three patients are stabilised and wheeled up to the PICU.
Hoseok’s washing his hands mechanically in one of the resus sinks, buying his brain some time to come down from the adrenaline of the last few hours, when he hears his name called.
‘Hey,’ you say, holding out a cup to him.
Hoseok takes a big gulp of the steaming hot coffee. There’s sugar in it, he doesn’t usually have sugar in his coffee, but today it goes down smooth, giving him a much-needed glucose boost.
He drinks most of it before he can muster a ‘Thanks.’
You don’t seem to be in a hurry.
You’ve cleaned most of the soot off your face, but your top is ruined.
Belatedly, Hoseok notices a plaster on your arm, remembers that you came in with the ambulance crew and the three kids.
‘Are you ok?’ he asks.
‘I’m fine,’ you say. ‘I was just outside the house when the gas oven imploded. I saw the kids in the window and got them out.’
Hoseok blinks. He hadn’t been expecting that.
‘You ran into a burning house?’
You frown a bit. ‘It wasn’t burning then, there was just smoke everywhere.’
You cough, and he notices that your voice is a little hoarse.
‘Besides, I was right there and I saw the kids, I couldn’t leave them.’
‘Shit,’ Hoseok says. He pulls you into a hug. ‘I didn’t know.’
‘Do you think they’re going to be ok?’ you ask, resting your head on his chest.
‘I hope so,’ Hoseok says.
He pulls away. ‘Did they check your carbon monoxide levels?’
You laugh, and the tension in his chest eases a little. ‘Yes, doc, I’ve been cleared for discharge.’
You grab his hand, squeeze. ‘I’m probably doing better than you right now.’
‘This is why I hate Christmas,’ Hoseok blurts out.
You’re looking at him, but you don’t say anything, and he can’t stop anyway.
‘Everyone goes on about Christmas and goodwill and people helping each other and yet the same shit happens as the rest of the year. It means nothing, just a commercial holiday that big companies use to make money out of dumb people.’
‘It’s bullshit,’ Hoseok says.
‘My parents feel the same as you,’ you say. You give him a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes. ‘They never celebrated the holidays.’
‘They had the right idea,’ Hoseok agrees.
‘When do you get off today?’ you ask. ‘I can make us dinner, if you want.’
‘I don’t think I’ll be good company,’ Hoseok says, honestly.
‘You’re welcome, even if you’re the biggest grinch in the world,’ you say, with a sweetness that makes warmth bloom in his chest.
‘I’m not a grinch,’ he says, half-heartedly.
‘A humbug, then,’ you say.
You reach out and touch his cheek.
‘Come over, later, if you want.’
***
Hoseok finds himself outside your apartment after his shift, wondering if you really wanted him to come over.
You don’t keep him waiting long, soon enough you’re opening the door, handing him a glass of wine, putting food in front of him.
Hoseok hasn’t even so much as showered, he came straight from work.
You notice him looking at the half-decorated Christmas tree you’ve got in your lounge, the open box of ornaments next to it.
‘I like Christmas,’ you say. ‘I thought I’d cheer myself up by putting up a tree.’
You seem to be worried about his reaction, so Hoseok grasps your hand.
‘Just because I’m a grinch doesn’t mean you have to be,’ he says.
You smile. ‘My parents never had a tree and I always wanted one.’
The food and the wine are going a long way towards making Hoseok feel normal again after his day.
‘Are you going to see them for Christmas?’ he asks.
There’s a brief shadow across your face, so quick he isn’t sure if he saw it.
‘They’re doing relief work in South Sudan,’ you say. ‘They’re doctors too.’
You ask, ‘Are you away for Christmas?’
‘Yeah, my parents and sister are upstate. I’ll drive up to them.’
‘Are they grinches like you are?’ you ask, teasing.
Hoseok laughs. ‘I’m the only grinch in the family. My mother goes all out, and my sister loves Christmas too.’
‘Sounds amazing,’ you say, a hint of wistfulness in your tone.
Your top’s slipped down over your shoulder, and between the way your skin gleams and the way your lips are stained from the wine, you’re so pretty Hoseok’s distracted.
He reaches out, tugging you into his arms.
‘Can I take a shower?’ he asks.
‘Sure,’ you say. The mischievous twinkle is back in your eyes now. ‘Want company?’
‘Always,’ Hoseok says.
***
For once, you’re up before him the next morning.
He must have been more tired than he realised.
You’re fastening your bra in a feat of dexterity he’s always admired.
‘Shame I missed the show,’ he says, his voice raspy in the darkness of your bedroom.
‘Happens every morning,’ you say. ‘You’ve got an invite every time.’
Hoseok laughs, rolls over, sheet around his waist.
‘What time is it?’ he asks, propping his arm behind his head, looking out the crack in the window as the snow falling outside.
‘It’s 6am on Christmas eve,’ you tell him.
‘Shit, I gotta pack for tonight,’ he says.
You pull a sweater on over a tee, sit on the edge of the bed to put socks on.
‘I probably won’t see you until after the holidays, huh?’
‘I’m back in a couple days,’ Hoseok says, hand on the small of your back where your sweater’s ridden up.
‘Yeah. Merry Christmas, Hobi. Eat all the turkey for me.’
‘I don’t even like turkey,’ he says, honestly.
You laugh, amused, and cup his cheek. ‘See you after Christmas, grinch. There’s coffee in the kitchen.’
Your goodbye kiss makes him want to pull you back into bed with him.
***
Hoseok pulls up outside his parents’ house, rubs the back of his neck, trying to get the crick out.
He can see the living room and kitchen lights are on, and he already knows that when he opens the front door and steps in he’ll be greeted with familiar smells.
Cinnamon. Fresh bread. The chicken dish his eomma always makes the night before Christmas.
He realises with a start that he never thought to ask you what you’d be doing for Christmas.
He’d spent an hour finishing decorating your tree after you left your apartment, so that you’d have a fully-decked out tree when you came back from work today, and had only belatedly realised that perhaps you’d have had fun decorating the tree together.
He’d put the earrings he got you under the tree, hung the gloriously tacky blue ornament he’d picked up for you at the Christmas market.
He’d packed the red lace panties you’d tossed merrily in his face when you’d stripped for him the night before, in the shower.
Shit, maybe that was a creep thing to do.
Too late now.
The front door opens, and his sister stands in the doorway.
‘Come on, what’s taking you so long,’ she asks.
‘Coming,’ Hoseok says.
He grabs his bag out the trunk and goes inside.
***
Hoseok wonders if he’s even in the right place.
You’d once told him, offhand, that you often volunteer at the shelter close to your apartment on Christmas day, and when he’d gone to your apartment and you weren’t in, he’d driven here.
It’s a women’s shelter, and he’s trying to make himself look as harmless as possible as he waits to be let in.
A woman dressed in a light-up jumper opens the door, eyes him suspiciously.
Hoseok has a sudden feeling that he’s made a terrible mistake.
It’s too late now.
‘I’m Hoseok, I’m a friend of Y/N’s. Is she here?’ he asks
To his relief, the woman’s face transforms into a smile, eyes crinkling at the corners.
‘You’re the doctor friend she keeps telling us about! Come in, she’s here.’
The woman grasps him by the arm, pulls him in out of the snow.
‘She’s helping in the kitchen, you can help too, if you want.’
‘Sure,’ Hoseok says. Her grip on his arm is strong, there’s no way he’s going to say no.
He’s led to an industrial looking kitchen, dated but clean, greeted by the sounds of chatter and Christmas classics.
There’s mess everywhere, like Santa exploded, but all that falls away when he sees you.
You look up, spot him, and the smile on your face makes him smile too. He probably looks like an idiot, here grinning at you, but he can’t find it in himself to care.
You get up, and then somehow you’re in his arms, the reindeer headband you have on poking him in the jaw but he’s still not bothered.
There’s heckling, teasing, whooping, but all he sees and hears is you.
‘What are you doing here?’ you ask, holding him so tightly he can barely breathe.
He likes it.
‘I forgot to wish you Merry Christmas,’ he says.
‘Merry Christmas, humbug.’
Hoseok wants to argue that he’s not a humbug, not really, but you’re kissing him, so he shuts up and kisses you back instead.
A/N: last night was a rollercoaster of emotions and i still can't believe love on tour is over, but it will always have a special place in my heart. one thing is for sure, im sill here and i will continue writing for this amazing human until he returns onto the stage where he belongs.
WORD COUNT: 2.6k
SUMMARY: You made a promise in the beginning of Love On Tour and now it's catching up with you and though your heart wants you to keep your word, you know it's not that easy, because it's about your boss, the person who matters the most to you.
MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!
You should have learned by now that Harry Styles never forgets.
He remembers every birthday, anniversary, every story anyone tells him, he remembers fans he has interacted with and he is extremely good with names. It’s definitely one thing you admire about him.
But know this tiny detail about him did not teach you to watch what you say around him, because he will recite your words even years later.
It’s been an on and off tango between the two of you for a long time. As his assistant, you’ve been dancing on the line of being professional and jumping into his bed whenever he does as so much as looking at you with those stupid, gorgeous eyes. He is your job, you keep telling that to yourself, but deep down you know he is more than just that.
He is… everything.
It would be easier if he only saw you as his assistant, but that’s not the case. Just how you caught those certain feelings, Harry has shown interest towards you, on several occasions, flirting with you bluntly, asking you out every possible chance.
And each time, when you turned down, a voice in your head screamed at you, but your rationality has been stronger so far and it hasn’t let you take that leap that would change everything forever.
Now, back to his immaculate memory.
You’d been working for him for over a year when the first European leg of Love On Tour was about to start, the residency shows were set to be announced and along with the South American, Australian and Asian dates and another full European leg was in the planning phase. Tour was looking endless and everyone on the team was joking that there won’t be a final show of Love On Tour.
Following another meeting in Harry’s LA home you were hanging out by his pool, something that happened quite often, because he liked to share what he had with the people around him. The sun was setting and you both had several glasses of wine, so the business talk has been long forgotten when you ordered food for the two of you.
You were in the shallow, lounge area of the pool where you could sit in the water and you were enjoying a hamburger while he was swimming around, watching you. You caught him looking right in the middle of a huge bite.
“What?” you asked, narrowing your eyes at him as he swam closer with a grin on his face.
“You look amazing.”
You snorted out loud, mouth full and probably smelling like onions.
“I’m sure I do,” you sarcastically said. “Is this what turns you on? Chewing and onion smell?”
“No. It’s you.”
You stopped and gave him a suspicious look. He moved over and sat beside you.
“You turn me on, Y/N,” he added, when you didn’t say anything, just leisurely staring back at you, as if he hadn’t just overstepped a major boundary between boss and employee.
“Harry, stop,” you mumbled, putting the remainder of your burger to the plate at the edge of the pool.
“What? You started it with guessing what turns me on.”
“It was just a joke!”
“Okay, and I told you the truth.”
“You definitely shouldn’t be saying shit like that to me.”
“Too late, already did, so I think we could take it even further,” he shrugged and you couldn’t hold back a laugh.
“Oh, you are something else, Harry Styles, you know that?”
“That didn’t sound like a no to me,” he grinned, moving just a tad bit closer, but still respecting your private space. “I really want to kiss you, Y/N,” he bluntly added and you knew it was the wine talking from him, sober Harry wouldn’t have said those words out loud, but it didn’t fail to make you feel dizzy and weak.
“That’s not gonna happen now,” you shook your head.
“Okay, if not now, then when?”
“You are so annoying,” you laughed again. “You know what? You can kiss me when Love On Tour officially ends,” you joked.
It was a genuine joke. Anyone would have known you didn’t mean it, but it was Harry you said it to and the moment the words left your mouth they burned into his memories forever.
“Alright then,” he simply said, splashed you and then swam away.
That was the beginning of 2022. You slept off the wine and though you never forgot you said it, you didn’t keep track of the promise you initially made.
Harry did, however.
Not one day went by without him thinking about those words and it was the only reason he was looking forward for the very last show of Love On Tour.
He’s been acting weird, probably since about Vienna. With two weeks until the end of tour and his break, your workload hasn’t gotten less so you couldn’t really care about his weirdness, but when you’re out for dinner in Barcelona with the band and some other crew members and two rounds of drinks have been consumed already, you finally acknowledge the change.
“Hey, you alright?” You poke your elbow into his side, stealing a fry from his plate. Shrugging, he pushes the plate closer to you.
“Just thinking.”
“About what?” you ask, snacking on his leftover fries.
“The end of tour.”
Freezing you instantly remember to that one conversation in his pool. You peek at him and find him already looking at you with a gaze that burns right into your heart. Clearing your throat you turn back to the fries and pretend like you don’t remember the promise you made.
“Just two more weeks and you’re free.”
“That’s not how I see it.”
“Mmm,” you hum, but don’t dare to look at him. You can feel his eyes on the side of your face, but luckily, before he could bring up anything specific Mitch call out his name from across the table and you’re relieved. For now.
It’s almost midnight when you all head back to the hotel and you and Harry somehow end up at the back of the group. The elevator is too full for the two of you to get in as well, so you wait for another round. While you’re still ignoring to look at him, he is very much only looking at you, it feels like.
The elevator returns and you get inside, but Harry pushes the button for the top floor.
“Hey, that’s—“
“I want to show you something,” he hold up a hand.
The top of the hotel has a rooftop bar with an amazing view of the city, the perfect grid of the streets, it’s breathtaking.
“I knew you would like it,” he smiles, leaning against the railing next to you, with his back towards the view, as if he was way more interested in seeing you than the city.
“Because you know me so well,” you chuckle softly.
“I do,” he answers quietly. “We have only four more shows.”
“Mhm,” you nod, eyes glued to the view in front of you.
“The final show of Love On Tour is in ten days.”
“I’m glad you keep track of the shows so well, I feel like I’m not even needed anymore,” you joke with a chuckle, but when you finally look at him you know why he is bringing all of these up.
“Do you remember what you promised would happen when the last show finally comes?”
“Harry…”
“You do,” he simply says. “I know you as someone who keeps her word.”
“It’s… Harry, that was never a promise, I was just joking!”
“None of it is a joke to me, Y/N.”
You roll your eyes, but hate the effect his words have on you. Like your whole inside is on fire, begging to just give in finally, to end this years long game and act on the feelings you’ve been pushing down so hard all this time.
Sighing you cross your arms over your chest. You want to make fun out of it again and say that it was all just about a kiss, but you know, you both know that it would never stop at one kiss, that it’s bigger than that and it would consume you fully if you let your walls down.
“This seems like a big mistake,” you tell him honestly. “What if it goes wrong and… I lose my job… and you.”
Your voice breaks at the end and you can’t look him in the eyes. You’ve spent endless nights thinking about what would happen if you gave in and it all went downhill. Your job might be the last thing on the list of worries, what really scares you is to imagine a version of your life without him because.
It would break you.
“Being scared of the wrong outcome will keep you away from the best things in your life, Y/N.”
“Did you just call yourself the best thing in my life?” you try to joke, but he just gives you a look.
“Don’t think about the what ifs, if you get there, you’ll figure it out. You always do. We always do.”
“This is not that simple,” you shake your head. “You know it’s not that simple.”
“But it is,” he chuckles, but you keep shaking your head. “Figuring out my feelings has never been this simple.”
There’s a heartbeat of silence when not even you know whether you’re about to give in or not and for a split second it actually feels like you’re breaking, but something pulls you back last minute.
“No. And we should be heading back, you have a show tomorrow. You need to get some rest.”
You step away from the railing and start walking back, but when you notice that he’s not coming you turn around and see him staring at the city this time. Opening your mouth you’re about to call out for him, but then change your mind and let him be, walking back to your room.
When you see him again in the morning he doesn’t bring it up again and you’re convinced he won’t bring your promise up again.
The last show has everyone all over the place, you’ve been running around since about six in the morning, picking up people, making sure the hotel check-ins go smoothly and everything is exactly how it should be. The day feels like a whole week, but the excitement and bittersweet sadness that’s been wrapped around everyone is what keeps you up on your feet still.
But the real weight of the last show hits the moment it finally starts.
This is the time when you have nothing to do so you watch Harry perform every night, meaning that this is the 169th time you’re seeing him take the stage and perform just as perfectly as he did at the first, the fiftieth and one hundredth show. He always gives his absolute most. Not just at his shows, but in his life as well. That’s one of the million reasons you fell for him.
Medicine has everyone dying, all 100 thousand people out there and then Harry starts giving his speech that’s extra long this time, talking about how grateful he is for everything, for his fans, his friends and family and it’s one big emotional mess and you can’t help but cry a bit as well, watching from the side.
“The last two years of my life, the last two years of this tour has been the greatest experience I could ever ask for…”
“I see it, the love, in how it’s affected all the people around me, continue to affect people. It does not end with this tour.”
“I love you, thank you so much.”
Screaming rolls over the crowd as an answer and you expect him to go on with starting As It Was, but then he starts talking again.
“There is one more thing I want to say tonight. I have learned and experienced so much in the past years. I will be forever thankful for the memories we’ve made.”
There. He said we, he switched up his narrative. That’s how you know he is not talking to the crowd. He is talking to you.
“If this is it, if it never goes beyond this, I would live a happy life. With you forever in my heart. But if we ever take it further, if we ever take the risk and reach for the stars and we might fall… just know that I will always be here for you. You can never lose me. No matter what. I love you.”
You suck on your breath, covering your mouth with your hand as you stare at him stand in the middle of the stage, staring out ahead of him, the crowd screaming for him, oblivious to the one sided conversation that just happened between you and him.
As It Was starts and the show carries on towards the end, but you’re still frozen in that moment and when the show ends and you watch Harry drop to his knees on the stage, you know things will never be the same.
Backstage is like a tornado once the show is over, the band walks off the stage and Harry is following right behind with Lloyd by his side, but when he sees you standing still in the middle of the madness, he drops out of the conversation right away and stops a few feet away from you, letting you decide where to go now.
“You promise?” you breathe out, your throat closing up. “You promise I will never lose you?”
“I thought that was clear by now, Y/N,” he replies, his chest still rapidly rising and falling. “But if you need me to actually say it, I will. You will never lose me, no matter what. It will always be you and me and I know you’re scared, but I’m—“
He doesn’t get to finish, because you’re already throwing yourself into his arms and kissing him.
It doesn’t matter that the whole crew bursts out into screaming and whistling, that you’re giving a second show with the way you get lost in each other, because in your little bubble it’s just you and Harry and everything that’s been building between the two of you.
Every joke, every teasing comment, all the stolen looks and suppressed feeling that was never acted on is now free, they all burst out of your chest and into the electricity that’s snaking around you as you keep taking more and more of him, hungry to make up for the past years.
The clapping dies down when you finally pull back, forehead resting against his, his hands holding you so tight as if he was afraid you might run away any moment.
“You kept your promise. I knew you were trusty, Y/N Y/L/N,” he chuckles, pecking your lips softly again as you laugh at his words, finally opening your eyes to look at him.
“Actually I feel like I kissed you. I promised you could kiss me, so technically—“
“Shut up, you’re already getting on my nerves,” he laughs, kissing you over and over again, so your promise is actually fulfilled. “Can’t wait for you to do that every day for the rest of my life.”
“I thought that was part of my job too, have I not been doing that?” you tease, lips moving against his as you speak.
“You have, but you can take it to a whole new level now,” he laughs, pulling you against him before letting you go and popping the bubble, though his hand never lets go of yours, not while everyone congratulates him, not when the final show celebrations start and not when he pulls you into his hotel room to end this journey of Love On Tour with you by his side, but also start a new chapter.
Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!
Summary: Sometimes distance isn’t a space between two people, but cracks and crevices that build up over time. It’s what you learned after being married to Namjoon all these years. But all it takes is a trip back home and the acknowledgement of what your relationship has become, and the realization that it might be the final puncture that would make everything else break.
A/N: No excuse, just Instagram Namjoon and being husband material. But shoutout to my philosophy professor whose lectures on love and relationships have stuck with me (even if I never actually read Max Scheler’s work), and credits to our brilliant, loveable Namjoon whose words are too beautiful not to write about. This was supposed to be part of a ‘Coming Home: Short Story Collection’ inspired by the guys going home for the holidays but… the holidays passed, my hands slipped, and this happened. I still hope you enjoy it, though!
Seeing the new greeting message from jin made me think of the tlods couple 🥹 imagine it's mother's day but he had to go on a bussiness trip so he ordered a hundred rose flower bouquet for OC but it's missing one rose. Oc thought the store made a little mistake and when seokjin called her later in the night he's holding a single rose and told her that he'd deliver the missing rose to her when he gets home from the trip 🥰
tags/warnings: kissing; suggestive
A/N: This was too cute to pass up. Missing Jin hours everyday! I hope you enjoy this one. 🥰 Pls also check #Extras:TLODS for the previous drabbles!
The Light of Dead Stars Masterlist
“Delivery for Mrs. Kim.”
You’d chuckle if it wasn’t rude, but only because the small-statured woman standing at your doorstep has her entire face covered by the huge bouquet of roses so it looks like they can actually talk. She’s almost cradling them, and you’re too stunned at the velvety red color that she has to ask if you’re Mrs. Kim in the absence of a response.
“Oh yes, that’s me,” you finally say, taking the flowers from her and inhaling their sweet, luscious smell.
“That’s our best variety. And one of our most expensive, too,” the woman smiles. “Your husband really wants you to feel special.”
“He does that all the time,” you smile back, signing the paper she hands out to you then bidding her goodbye.
You walk towards the kitchen and place the bouquet on the counter, admiring just how stunning it looks. The flowers look so classic and elegant, and the giddiness at the thought of your husband making sure you get something from him this Mother’s Day even if he’s miles away makes your cheeks hurt from smiling.
“Eomma, flowews!” Sena squeals from her high chair, as you’d just finished feeding her lunch.
Her smile is as sweet as her father’s, with her plump cheeks and bright eyes. It makes you miss him more when he’s on a business trip that takes weeks.
“Yes, Princess. They’re pretty, aren’t they?”
She nods and surprisingly patiently watches as you take the card with a note in front that says to the loveliest, most gorgeous wife and mother in the whole world who’s so lucky to have married me.
You laugh at the words, imagining Jin saying them theatrically like he would.
You open it and smile even more.
A rose for every hour of the day that I love you, the card says. Twenty-four hours isn’t actually enough but know that I love you hard during each one. Thank you for agreeing to do this crazy journey of parenthood with me, as if marrying me wasn’t a headache enough. You’ve given me the best gift there is. Sena is as bright, and loving, and charming (this is mostly because of me though) because of you. Happy Mother’s Day. I love you so much and I can’t wait to see you.
True to form, you laugh and smile as you read his almost-love letter. You know he tends to mask his emotions with humor and you honestly wouldn’t have it any other way. You do agree that marrying him is a headache sometimes, but you also can’t imagine your life turning out any differently. You love him just as much, more than you can actually really say.
“Will you help me put these in vases, Sena?” You turn to the little one.
“Yes!” She chirps.
You decide to get 2 vases before pulling her from her chair and sitting her on the counter, with her excitedly observing the flowers that you’re unwrapping. You let her smell them then give her one to put on the vase that you’ve filled with water. Sena hugs it though, not wanting to let it go.
“Eomma, it’s pwetty like me!” She says.
“Yes it is, Princess,” you laugh, knowing exactly where she got that from.
Her father would always say it about himself; you know he’s come to tell Sena that she’s as pretty as many things, too - flowers, for one. And especially the moon.
“Now, could you help eomma put these inside the vases and count them for me?” You ask, wanting her to practice her numbers whenever she can.
She nods ecstatically and places the one she’s holding inside the glass container. You give her a piece right after doing so, counting with her as she goes.
“23!” She squeals, smiling brightly as she refuses to put away the supposed last stem. “I did it, eomma!”
“You did, my sweet little girl,” you say, booping her nose before giving her a kiss. “Now, appa said there should be 24 in here so there’s one missing. Let me just call the shop and make sure, okay?”
You’re about to search up the store’s number when your phone rings, the photo of Sena pulling Jin’s hair while he winces in pain appearing on the screen.
You greet your husband with a smile and it widens once you see it matches yours. He loves his job but being apart is always the hardest; you know he looks forward to these calls just as much as you do.
“Did you like my surprise? I’m quite the romantic, aren’t I?” He smirks.
“I did, and you are. Quite cocky, too,” you chuckle. “But thank you, love. They’re really beautiful; Sena thinks they’re as pretty as her.”
“She’s obviously prettier but I’m glad she’s learning how to be confident,” he laughs. “How does it look? And can I see her?”
You turn the camera to show him the flowers inside the vases, saying you want to put one in the kitchen and one in your bedroom. Sena says hi to him but is too preoccupied with her rose to have a conversation.
“They do look nice,” he hums in satisfaction.
“Yes. They’re also incomplete,” you inform him. “I’m guessing they should be 2 dozens because of your very on-brand note but they’re just 23. Perhaps the store forgot it?”
“Actually… no,” he hums. “I have the last one here.”
And just as he says, he shows you the 24th stem of rose, velvet red and luscious like the ones in front of you.
“So, uh, why is it with you?” You ask.
“I thought I deserved one, too, since I’m part of the reason why you’re a mother,” he shrugs, causing you to laugh exasperatedly because sometimes, you really don’t know why you married this man.
“I’m kidding, babe,” he laughs now, enjoying your slightly annoyed face. “I mean, that’s true but I just wanted another bit of surprise.”
“The surprise being that I expected 24 but only got 23 because you’re such a pain in the ass?”
“Not in front of our child!” He gasps dramatically. “But no, not really. I want you to look forward to something when I arrive in a few days.”
“Kim Seokjin, you give me a headache everyday but I love you and I always look forward to seeing you. That’s all I need - for you to come home safely and then make it up to me for being away.”
At your words, he blushes. He can’t deny that much as he hates having to leave his family regularly because of his job, he does enjoy the welcome home sex you both have every time.
“And I will, I promise,” he smiles softly now. “I just felt like being dramatic, that’s all.”
“Oh, I’m not surprised,” you playfully shake your head. “But thank you again. You know I love being a mother and a big reason is you. You make it so fun and so fulfilling. Sena’s just as lucky to have you as her father.”
You don’t miss the longing in his eyes. You know it’s times like now when he feels bad because he thinks he’s away too much, leaving you to take care of Sena on your own. You always understood what’s required of him, and you never complained; being with your daughter is an adventure on its own, and you want nothing more than for your husband to know that despite all the challenges of parenthood and of his job, you don’t want anything else other than the life you both have now. He makes up for everything all the time; sometimes more.
“Well, I’ve got a meeting to prepare for,” he says guiltily. “I’ll call you again, okay? And don’t worry, the last rose will be even prettier than those because I’ll hand deliver it to you.”
You get another laugh in before giving the phone to Sena who now wants to tell him about your morning at the park, and much as you know that Jin absolutely needs to prepare for his meeting tonight, there’s no doubt that he’d give all his attention to his daughter when she asks for it.
It’s another half hour before you and your daughter finally put down the phone, and the scent of the flowers overtaking your home reminds you that no matter the distance, Jin will always be around to remind you how love is supposed to feel like.
You mentally count the days until your husband gets home, wanting nothing more than to feel the warmth of his hug and his expert hands massaging the sore parts of your body. You love product evaluations, but you spend too much time on your feet; your brain goes overdrive that headaches are immediate and constant.
Two more nights and you’ll get to see him again, you sigh to yourself. You decide to give your team another break, knowing that this is mentally draining for them as well. You remove your coat and head towards your office, wanting to sneak in a power nap before getting back to work.
Your eyes widen once you get to your desk and see a red rose laying on top of it. It’s bigger, more luscious, deeper in color and somehow more majestic than the ones you received 3 days ago. You inhale its scent and smile dreamily, knowing that Jin really made sure to give you something breathtakingly beautiful like this.
“You like it?”
Your husband’s voice causes you to curse in surprise, even more when you turn around to see him leaning by the wall.
“Oh god, Jin. You scared me,” you scowl, prompting him to laugh.
“Thought I’d surprise you,” he shrugs, closing the door then flicking the switch that shuts your blinds for privacy.
He stands in the middle of the room, donned in a black 3-piece suit with his hands in his pockets, looking stunning as always.
“Well, I was surprised. I thought you won’t be back until the weekend,” you say.
“One meeting was canceled so I just moved up the other one so I could get home right away,” he explains, walking towards you now.
You mindlessly step back until you’re leaning on the edge of your table, ultimately getting caged by him. He smells so good, and he might’ve just come from a flight but your husband looks fresh and gorgeous, unlike you who probably reeks of onion and spices.
“I spent Mother’s Day away from you and I wanted to make it up to you as soon as possible,” he continues, his eyes turning lustful as he inches closer to you.
“Well you could, back home,” you chuckle, swallowing hard as you see him eye your lips.
“I could also do it now,” he counters, smirking before he crashes his mouth onto yours, his soft lips and skillful tongue rendering you speechless and pliant.
You submit immediately, moaning against his lips until you catch yourself and pull back. He doesn’t relent though, as he takes the chance to move down your neck, staying there so he could plant open-mouthed kisses all over it.
“Jin,” you moan, missing the way he feels, especially with his hand sneaking around your waist to pull you closer. “I know you run this company but, uh, we shouldn’t be doing this.”
“My father won’t fire me,” he hums against your skin.
“He could,” you answer back, drawing in a breath once he hits that sensitive spot of yours. “Or he could fire me. Or both of us. You’ll never know.”
Jin doesn’t want to argue. He also knows you’re right. You’ve both never been bold at the office, not wanting to take advantage of either of your positions to do something clearly unprofessional, so he pulls back, only to lean his forehead against yours, his nose tenderly caressing yours.
“I just missed you. But yes, I should stop. And do everything I want to do to you back home.”
“That would be preferable,” you laugh, softly kissing his lips before you fix his wrinkled suit.
“The rose is beautiful, Jin. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. It’s a different variety and it stood out to me when I dropped by the store earlier.”
“I’m sure Sena would love this, too.”
He smiles at the thought of your daughter. He’s missed her terribly, too. He called last night and she read him one of her books. She couldn’t read everything so she made up her own fairytale and it was the most adorable thing. It seemed like a normal occurrence to you, though. It may seem sad, but he thinks it’s special that you let him experience the joy of being a parent on his own without forcing it, without making him feel like he’s lacking or missing out on too many things. Sena adores you, but she adores him just as much. You’re a superwoman in so many ways and he really lucked out in marrying you.
“So, I have this conference in LA in 3 weeks. I was thinking maybe you and Sena can join me? We can extend the trip to spend a few days in Disneyland,” he says. “She’s probably big enough for a long-haul flight, yeah?”
“She is,” you smile, liking the sound of joining him for a business trip with your daughter. “I think she’d love that.”
“Okay, good,” he smiles. “I had Yoongi buy a Minnie Mouse headband when we were in Japan so we could surprise her.”
“Are you serious? I’m sure he cussed you out when you asked him to.”
“Well, he actually had a free day and decided to go there himself,” Jin hums.
“Well of course. Dara loves Disneyland,” you laugh, feeling giddy at how Yoongi had softened because of your best friend.
“Ah, I should’ve known,” Jin laughs. “It’s what gave me the idea so I had him buy some stuff. Now I can’t wait to tell Sena.”
“She’ll be so excited, love. And thank you, again,” you say, glancing at the rose before pulling him for a kiss. “I hope you know I’m a good mother because you’re an amazing partner. I can’t do this without you.”
“Yah, stop being so sweet to me or else I’m gonna want another baby!”
You stare at him in shock but his pouty face tells you he seems serious.
“That’s a conversation for another day, yeah?” You manage to say, not having considered having another child this soon.
But later on when you both get home and he peppers Sena with kisses, and when he surprises her with the news, and when he falls asleep with her lying on top of his chest after he’d just sang her her favorite lullaby, you start to think that maybe having another little one wouldn’t be so bad.
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