𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 ➙ When you inherits an estate, you expects creaking floors and dust — not a ghost who swears you’re his wife. The house breathes with memories that aren’t yours, and every night, a soft voice whispers your name. Jun isn’t frightening; he’s heartbreakingly gentle, waiting for a love you've forgotten.
𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐬 ➙ Angst, Ghost x Human, Dark Romance, Mention of Past Lives, Slow burn (I think??), Tragic Romance, Love beyond Death, “You forgot me but I never did” type of shit, Porn w/ Plot (and yes, YOU CAN SKIP the sex scene if not comfortable with the smut warnings)
𝐖𝐂 ➙ 12.8k
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 ➙ MDNI, explicit sexual content, explicit language, oral sex (both f. and m. receiving), fingering (f. receiving), unprotected sex, rough sex, neck grab, restraining hands, sensory description, necromancy, wax play, temperature play, soft dominance, implied somnophilia, body worship (jun be obsessed hahaha), dirty talk, ghost sex, dom! jun, sub! reader, crying from pleasure and pain, dacryphilia, loud moans (for both of them), possessiveness, creampie, clit stimulation
🎧 ➙ No sense by Justin Bieber ⋮ Fetish by Selena Gomez ⋮ Young and Beautiful by Lana Del Rey
𝐀/𝐍 ➙ ahh I adore this story so much!! I really hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. I’m usually known for my angst works, so I guess this is my moment to shine hahaha. please don’t hesitate to click out or skip the explicit parts if they make you uncomfortable — this one gets a little intense with the kinktober themes 😭 anyways, reblogs (w/ or w/o tags) are always appreciated. love you lots!!
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The house was older than your name.
It stood past the last turn of the countryside road, half-swallowed by the forest, where even the birds refused to sing. The lawyer had given you the address over a call that sounded static, voice clipped, rushed — like he didn’t want to linger on the topic too long.
“An inheritance, Miss L/N,” he’d said. “A private estate. Been untouched for years. You’re the last living relative.” “Relative of who?” you’d asked. “Of the previous owner, Miss Wen.. if I remember correctly. Distant, very distant. She had no direct heirs. You might want to- ah -look through the documents yourself.”
The call ended before you could ask more.
Now, standing at the foot of the property, suitcase in hand, you realised how words could never have prepared you for this.
It was enormous, but not in the modern sense. The house was alive in its decay — a mansion of forgotten gold and black wood, wrapped in ivy that crawled like veins up the cracked stone. The windows glowed faintly amber, reflecting the dying sun. Even the wind that brushed against your skin felt heavy with something unsaid.
“Okay,” you muttered to yourself, pushing the rusted gates open. “Creepy, but not.. haunted. Hopefully.”
Your footsteps echoed across the gravel path leading up to the grand doors. Each step felt like trespassing on someone’s memory. When you finally pushed the door open, it didn’t screech or fight you like an old hinge should — it sighed, like the house itself was breathing you in.
The first thing that hit you was the smell — grass and rain, faint but fresh, like someone had opened a window minutes ago. The foyer stretched out before you, the chandelier above still glittering under years of dust. Paintings lined the walls. Not landscapes, not still lifes — just portraits. Of the same man.
You paused in front of one. He was handsome in a way that felt wrong for being immortalised in oil paint — sharp jaw, dark, tousled hair that falls around his neck in soft layers, eyes are gentle yet piercing. Scattered across his skin are small, striking moles — near his lips, another on his cheek, and gracing his forehead — as if even the universe couldn’t resist marking beauty where it found it.
Someone had painted him with devotion. You leaned closer. “Whoever you were,” you whispered, “you were definitely the favourite.”
The next few hours passed in quiet exploration. Every room was preserved — sheets draped over furniture, candles that looked half-burned but untouched by time, books still open mid-page on desks. It was eerie, yes, but also intimate. Like someone had just stepped out of the room and would return any minute.
By dusk, exhaustion caught up with you. You found the master bedroom on the second floor — and stopped cold. It was clean. No dust. The bed was made perfectly, the sheets turned down as though waiting. There was even a small vase by the window, a single white rose standing tall in it. You frowned.
“Someone’s been here,” you murmured. Then, louder, calling out just in case, “Hello? Is anyone-?” Silence. Except the faint hum of wind through the old vents. You hesitated, then sighed. “Guess I’ll just lock the door.”
The bed was too soft. Too inviting. You sat down anyway. The pillow smelled faintly of cedar and musk, a scent that didn’t belong to you. Still, the fatigue was pulling you under, and you let your eyes close for just a moment.
—
A breath brushed your neck. So real, so warm, it made every hair on your body stand on end. “You came back.” You bolted upright, eyes scanning the room. “Who’s there?” Nothing. Only the curtains swaying even though the windows were closed.
Your heart hammered as you reached for your phone flashlight. Its glow hit the mirror across the room — and froze you in place. In the reflection, someone stood behind you. A man, tall and pale, dressed in white collared shirt, neckline framing a single pearl necklace that adds a delicate contrast to his look.
Over it, he wears a black tweed jacket interwoven with silver threads, catching light in subtle glints. His expression wasn’t threatening. If anything, he looked relieved. He smiled softly. “You shouldn’t be afraid. I’ve waited long enough.”
You turned around. Empty. Your throat felt dry. “I’m-” You laughed weakly to yourself, trying to shake it off. “definitely calling the real estate agent tomorrow.”
You climbed back into bed, pulling the blanket tightly around your shoulders. But your body refused to relax. When your breathing finally steadied, you noticed something that made your pulse skip again. Your dress.
It had slipped halfway off your shoulder, your collarbone bare. And on your skin, faint as breath, was the outline of a handprint. You stared at it until your eyes blurred, until the scent of roses filled the air, until sleep pulled you back into the dark.
And somewhere, between waking and dreaming, you heard him whisper again — closer this time, almost tender “I’m glad you’re back, Wen Y/N.”
Morning came gently — too gently for an abandoned place. The light that poured through the curtains was soft and gold, catching the dust in the air like glitter. You sat up slowly, your body still wrapped in that hazy, half-remembered dream. There was no handprint now. No scent of smoke or roses. Just quiet.
“Okay,” you whispered, rubbing your eyes. “Maybe I just freaked myself out.” You checked your phone. Now we’re talking. I can definitely live here, there's a signal. It showed the time, 7:43 a.m. You must’ve slept like a rock.
After washing up with the little water that still ran in the bathroom sink, you wandered downstairs. The house looked different in daylight — less ominous, more tragically beautiful. Every surface was layered with dust except for a few areas: the stairs’ rail, the main hallway, the parlour table. Like someone had constantly wiped them.
You knelt beside one of the portraits in the living room and dusted it gently with your sleeve. The man’s painted gaze met yours again, unblinking and patient. His eyes were dark brown, almost gold under the varnish.
There were at least eight portraits in the entire house, all of him. Each painted a little differently: one in uniform, another in casual robes, another holding a book. You moved to the last one by the fireplace — this time, he wasn’t alone.
A woman stood beside him. The artist hadn’t captured her face clearly, but she wore a white dress and veil, hand resting delicately on the man’s arm. A wedding portrait. You tilted your head, curiosity pricking at you. “So.. you were married,” you murmured, brushing the edge of the frame. “And I’m guessing your wife didn’t inherit the place. Lucky me.”
You took a step back, hands on your hips. The house was huge, but not unmanageable. You could make it feel like home again. So you started cleaning.
At first, it was just idle — opening windows, letting air in, humming faintly under your breath. But then something strange happened. The longer you worked, the more you noticed subtle traces of order that weren’t yours: beds already made, a vase refilled with white roses, curtains tied back differently. Someone — or something — had been maintaining this house all along.
You shook your head, deciding to distract yourself before your imagination spiraled like last night. Grabbing your phone, you opened your messages to message your best friend.
Y/N: guess who inherited a horror movie set 😭
Hao 😈: LMAOOO don’t tell me it’s that creepy old mansion your mom mentioned??
Y/N: yeah. the one with zero neighbors and 800 ghosts per square meter
Hao 😈: pls send pics 😭😭
Y/N: hold up
You snapped a few photos: the cracked chandelier, the grand staircase, one of the portraits — you didn’t even realise until later that it was the wedding one.
Y/N: okay ngl it’s pretty. like victorian pretty. you should come here.
Hao 😈: looks like somewhere a hot ghost would haunt.
Y/N: stop! 😭😭
Hao 😈: no bc imagine waking up w/ a ghost husband like “good morning my bride” 💀
Y/N: STOP IT HAO I SWEAR I’LL MOVE OUT
Hao 😈: u say that but u also said ur into tragic romance when bored soooo 👀
You laughed out loud, the sound echoing across the empty hall.
Y/N: fine. if a ghost husband appears i’ll let u know so u can write my obituary.
Hao 😈: deal
You pocketed your phone, still smiling. The house felt a little less lonely now. By afternoon, sunlight filtered through the stained-glass windows, scattering coloured light on the floor. You carried an armful of old books back to the library and froze when you saw one already open on the table — one you knew you hadn’t touched.
Its pages were lined with elegant handwriting. You could barely read the faded ink, but you caught one phrase clearly underlined: “Bound beyond death, by name and vow.” A chill ran down your arms. You shut the book gently, heart thudding. “Okay.. enough cleaning for today.”
Outside, the wind had stopped entirely. The forest was silent. The only sound left in the house was your breathing — and somewhere, faintly, a low hum. Like someone singing through the walls.
The house was quiet that night. Too quiet.
You settled at the desk with your laptop, your only source of light a small lamp you’d brought from your old apartment. The rest of the room lay in shadows, the wallpaper peeling faintly in the corners as if the air itself had been holding its breath for years.
You cracked your knuckles, muttering, “Okay. Chapter sixty-three. Let’s do this.” The blinking cursor greeted you like an old friend.
Your book — To Breathe Again — had been a year in the making, and your editor had been hounding you for pages. The irony of working on a novel about necromancy wasn’t lost on you. You even laughed about it when you messaged Minghao earlier those years.
Y/N: if i start writing ghost love stories don’t pick me up, i’m doing the right thing
Hao 😈: u kinky mf
Y/N: shut up 😒
Hao 😈: ok but if u get possessed can u at least ask the ghost to edit my thesis
You shook your head, smiling to yourself before getting back to work. Hours passed unnoticed, the rhythm of typing filling the silence like a heartbeat. Sometimes you swore you could hear faint footsteps pacing the hallway — the kind that made the wooden floor groan softly, like memory itself stretching awake. Every time you paused to listen, the sound stopped.
Around 2 a.m., you leaned back in your chair and sighed. “One more paragraph,” you told yourself. But the words on the screen blurred together, and your head eventually dipped forward. You must’ve dozed off right there at the desk.
When you woke, it was morning again. The sun slanted through the tall windows, warm on your face. You blinked against the light, you woke up in the bed “ahm.. did I sleep walk here last night?” you mumbled, stretching your arms.
But your body felt sore in a way that didn’t make sense — like you’d been tossing in bed for hours, muscles overworked and trembling faintly. Your nightgown clung to your skin, a little too loose at the collar and ends almost reaching your hips.
You frowned, rubbing your eyes. It hurts. That’s when you noticed your laptop. The document you’d been writing was still open — but your last sentence had changed. Instead of “She pressed her hand against the cold stone altar..” the words now read:
She pressed her hand against the warmth of his chest and whispered, “I’m home.”
Your heart stuttered. You didn’t remember typing that. And yet.. the phrasing sounded exactly like something you would write. You closed the laptop slowly, the faint scent of something — cedar, musk, and roses — lingering in the air, as if someone had been beside you all night, breathing close enough to touch.
The smell of sizzling butter filled the kitchen, the sound of eggs hitting the pan soft and rhythmic. Sunlight pooled faintly through the old lace curtains, dust swirling in golden ribbons. You could almost pretend the house wasn’t haunted — that it was just another quiet morning.
Almost.
You rolled your shoulders, wincing. There was still a deep, dull ache running through your muscles, especially between your thighs. “Did I- sleep weird?” you muttered, rubbing the back of your neck. You brushed off the thought with a nervous laugh and reached for the salt.
It must’ve been another one of those dreams. The kind that felt too real, too heavy. You remembered flashes — pale fingers tracing your skin, a whisper against your ear. The dream man’s touch had been so vivid that your body still remembered the heat. You’d seen his face this time too, clear and unblurred, framed by soft candlelight.
And it wasn’t just any face.
Your gaze drifted across the kitchen, toward the hallway where the portraits hung — the ones you’d noticed. You froze, spatula hovering midair.
The reflection in the hallway mirror caught him perfectly — the same slanted eyes, the same mouth curved like a secret. You blinked, once, twice, stepping closer to make sure your eyes weren’t playing tricks.
It was him.
The man from your dreams.
Your stomach dropped, pulse quickening in your throat. He’d been here all along, hanging silently in those frames, watching you from the moment you arrived.
You forced a shaky laugh, brushing stray hair from your face. “Okay. Creepy coincidence. It’s just- just the power of suggestion, right?” you told yourself, trying to sound convinced. “You saw the portrait before bed, your brain mashed it into a dream. Simple.”
The portrait didn’t answer. Behind you, the stove hissed. And for the briefest moment — just before you turned off the heat — you thought you heard a low voice whisper near your ear, soft and familiar “Good morning, my bride.”
You froze mid-breath.. again, every hair on your neck standing up. The voice was right there. Close enough that you could feel the faintest whisper of air brush past your ear. Your body reacted before your brain did.
“WHAT THE!” You spun around with the frying spatula raised like a weapon, egg still clinging to the edge. “WHO’S THERE?! I SWEAR I’LL- I’LL FLIP YOU TO HELL!!”
“Please don’t,” came a calm, almost amused voice from somewhere behind you. It wasn’t echoing, wasn’t hollow — it sounded real. Too real. “You’ll stain the walls with yolk, and I quite like our kitchen.”
Your eyes darting around the empty room. No one. Nothing. Just the faint sound of your pan still sizzling. Your heart hammered against your ribs. “Who- who said that?” Silence. Then, softly: “Jun.”
You blinked. “Jun..? What? Huh- ha?!” A small pause, then a low hum that almost sounded like a chuckle. “So you can hear me. That’s good.”
Your grip tightened on the spatula. “Okay. Either I’m losing it, or I’m being haunted by a polite ghost who cares about kitchen hygiene.” “Haunted?” Jun sounded genuinely offended. “That’s a rather cruel word for a husband, don’t you think?”
You gawked at the air. “Excuse me- husband?!” “Yes.” His tone softened, almost fond. “You’ve been wearing my ring.” You glanced down — and nearly dropped the spatula. On your left hand, glinting faintly in the sunlight, was a thin silver band. You had no idea when it got there.
“Oh hell no,” you whispered, yanking it off. “This is not happening.” Jun’s laugh was gentle, teasing. “You always say that. I miss hearing from you.”
“What- no, no, no! Don’t gaslight me, Casper!” “That’s not my name.” “I don’t care!” you shouted at the air. “You-! Get out of my house! Out! Whatever supernatural lease you think you have here, it’s over!”
“I’m afraid it’s not,” he said lightly. “This house is also mine.. and to you.” You dragged a hand down your face, spatula still clutched tight. “Great. Fantastic. I move into a cursed house, and my new roommate is a ghost husband with boundary issues.”
There was a low, almost bashful chuckle. “You weren’t complaining last night.” You froze, eyes wide. “Excuse me?” But the voice didn’t answer this time — just a faint, amused hum that faded into the creak of the old walls.
You pointed the spatula at the ceiling. “Don’t you dare ghost-laugh at me, Jun!” Somewhere, you swore you heard the faintest echo of a grin in his voice, that made you drop your spatula “You’re cute when you’re angry, my bride.”
—
You sat at the kitchen counter, laptop open, breakfast cold. The spatula still lay on the floor where you’d dropped it mid-crisis. Your phone buzzed beside your plate. You snatched it up like a lifeline.
[Group chat: “Emergency Life Updates (aka Therapy)]
Y/N: besties i think my house is haunted
Hao 😈: LMAOOOO it’s been 3 days, that’s a record. what happened suddenly??
Y/N: some man’s voice called me his wife while i was making eggs
Min 😵💫: ..was he hot at least???
Y/N: I DON’T KNOW I DIDN’T EVEN SEE HIM
Min 😵💫: so u married a ghost sight unseen 💀 bold of u
Y/N: IM NOT MARRIED
Hao 😈: sure kinky mf who’s writing a novel exactly with that plot, i think u manifested it loll
Y/N: also i think he’s a victorian ghost level polite. kept saying “my bride” like bro calm down
Min 😵💫: LMFAO STOPPPP this is going in my notes. “haunted by horny regency ghost”
Y/N: NO 😭😭
Hao 😈: did u check the portraits u sent me? maybe he’s one of those men 👀
Y/N: that’s the thing. IT’S HIM.
Hao 😈: oh.
Min 😵💫: …babe.
Hao 😈: are u sure ur not just having like, a super vivid lucid dream? u do write romance for a living.
Y/N: im literally wide awake and my ghost just argued with me about kitchen cleanliness
Hao 😈: sounds husband material to me. when’s the wedding??
Min 😵💫: more like when was the wedding LMAOOO
You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “Why are my friends like this,” you muttered aloud. Why is Mingyu missing out of all times.. Seokmin and Minghao are no help. From somewhere down the hall, a familiar voice replied, low and teasing, “Are you in distress?”
You shrieked and nearly dropped your phone. “HAO HE’S HERE AGAIN.”
Hao 😈: ok listen before u start performing an exorcism, record it. i want receipts.
Y/N: u want me to RECORD THE DEMON?
Hao 😈: for science.
Y/N: i hate you.
You peeked over your shoulder, heart pounding. “Jun?” “I’m here,” came the smooth reply, closer now. “You don’t need to shout, my love.” You stiffened. “Don’t call me that!” “I can’t,” he said softly, like it was the saddest truth in the world. “You’re all I have left.”
The words hung in the air, so gentle it almost made you forget the absurdity of the moment. Almost. You typed one last message with shaky fingers.
Y/N: ok yeah maybe the ghost husband is kinda sad and not bad
Min 😵💫: so u admit he’s hot
Y/N: BLOCKED.
You set your phone down, exhaling deeply. “Okay.. Jun,” you muttered, scanning the empty room. “If we’re really doing this ghost tenant thing, why are you still here?” A quiet laugh brushed your ear like wind.
“Devotion. It ties me to the house.. to you.” You groaned. “Oh my god. He’s poetic too.”
It started the same way it had the last two nights. The soft creak of floorboards. The faint shift of weight on the mattress. The air cooling around you as if someone had opened a window. You didn’t move this time.
“Jun,” you whispered into the dark. “You’re here again, aren’t you?” Silence, then “I always am.” His voice came from beside you, smooth as velvet, threaded with something ancient. “You sleep so restlessly when I’m not.” “I sleep restlessly because there’s a ghost in my bed,” you muttered, sitting up halfway.
“Do you even.. sleep?” He chuckled, the sound low and fond. “No. Not anymore.” You exhaled through your nose, squinting into the faint light spilling through the curtains. “Okay, let’s try this again. Who are you, Jun?”
“I’ve told you,” he said gently. “I am your husband.” You rolled your eyes. “That’s not an answer. A name and a marital claim don’t explain why I wake up sore, by the way.” A pause. His voice softened, almost guilty. “I haven’t touched you without your consent.”
You arched a brow toward the darkness. “Really? Because my sore thighs say otherwise.” “I swear it.” His tone deepened, steady and earnest. “Your body aches from something else — the remnants of the bond. The house.. it remembers. And through it, so does your body.”
“The house remembers?” you repeated, half a scoff, half a laugh. “Jun, that’s not- that’s not even science. That’s..” “Magic,” he finished for you, quiet but unyielding.
You stared at the shadows for a long moment. “You expect me to believe that I’m some reincarnated bride living in a haunted love nest?” “I don’t expect you to believe,” he murmured. “Only to listen.”
Your throat tightened — something about the way he said it felt real. Too real. You tried to sound casual. “Then why are you here? Why can’t you just.. move on? Find peace, cross the afterlife, whatever ghosts are supposed to do.”
A silence. Then the faintest brush of a cold fingertip against your wrist — hesitant, reverent. “Because my peace was buried with you.” You froze. “You’ve got the wrong girl,” you whispered, voice trembling despite yourself.
“Perhaps,” Jun said softly. “But tell me, why do you wake up with my name on your lips?” You blinked, stunned. “I- I don’t.” “You do,” he said simply. There was no arrogance in it, only sorrow.
You fell quiet for a moment, staring at the darkness that felt far too alive. “You really didn’t do anything?” “No,” he said, and this time his voice was gentle enough to make you believe him. “Only kissed you when you were dreaming. You looked so lonely.”
Your heart squeezed. “That’s still technically not consent.” He laughed quietly, the sound curling through the air like smoke. “Then I’ll ask properly next time.”
You sighed, lying back down. “There’s not going to be a next time.” “I said that once too,” he murmured. You pulled the blanket over your face, trying to hide your smile. “You’re so dramatic for someone dead.”
“I was dramatic before I died,” he countered, teasing now. “You said you liked it.” You turned to where you thought he was, whispering, “You talk too much.” “And you listen too little.”
Somewhere between his chuckle and your quiet hum of annoyance, your eyes slipped closed. The bed dipped slightly, just enough for you to feel the outline of someone lying beside you. And though you told yourself you didn’t believe in ghosts, you still whispered, just before sleep took you,
“Goodnight, Jun.” A hand — cold but gentle — brushed your hair back. “Goodnight, Y/N.”
—
You pushed the front door open with your shoulder, grocery bags cutting into your fingers, sunlight spilling in behind you.
“Jun!” you called out, voice echoing across the empty living room. “I was literally talking to you outside for ten minutes simply about if you do eat or not, and then I realised-” You paused dramatically, setting the bags down on the counter. “You weren’t even there!”
There was a soft hum from somewhere near the hallway — warm, amused. “Why are you talking to yourself outside?” Jun said. You glared toward the voice. “Don’t turn this on me. The delivery guy looked at me like I’d lost my mind. I thought you’re with me. This past few weeks, you never leave me alone”
He chuckled quietly, the sound wrapping around you. “Would you rather I scare other people half to death? Also, I can’t help you outside anyway”
You huffed, unpacking the paper bags. “Still. You could’ve… I don’t know. Come with me? You never go out.” There was a pause — not defensive, just words. “I can’t,” he said simply. Your hands stilled on a carton of milk. “Can’t?”
“The house is my boundary,” he explained. “My anchor. I’m bound here — by the curse, by memory, by you. Step beyond the threshold and I start to fade.” You turned toward the sound, heart softening. “That’s awful.”
“It’s tolerable,” he murmured. “I was alone here for so long before you came.” Your chest tightened. “Jun..” He spoke again, light but wistful. “Besides, I like it here. You fill the rooms with noise and scent and warmth. It’s almost enough to feel alive again.”
You rolled your eyes — to hide the sudden pang of emotion. “You sound like a bad poem.” “I was a bad poet once,” he teased. “You threw my drafts into the fire.” You froze mid-unpacking. “What?” He laughed, low and delighted. “Ah — perhaps that was another life.”
You shook your head, smiling despite yourself. “You’re insufferable.” “I missed being called that,” he said softly.
The quiet after that settled gently, like a comfortable silence between old friends, or husband and wife..? You busied yourself with arranging the vegetables, pretending you didn’t notice the way the air thickened slightly around you — Jun standing close, unseen but undeniably there.
“Hey,” you said after a moment. “If you can’t go out.. what do you do all day when I’m gone?” “I watch,” he said simply. “Creepy.” “Protectively,” he amended, amused. “I walk through the halls. Listen to the wind. Sometimes I read over your shoulder when you’re writing.”
You shot a look toward the dark corner of the kitchen. “That’s definitely creepy.” “Then perhaps,” he said, voice warm with laughter, “I’ll keep doing it.” You couldn’t help it — you laughed too, shaking your head. “You’re impossible, Jun.”
“I was told I made an impossible husband,” he said, tone dipping into something soft, almost nostalgic. “But I like to think I’m improving.” You ignored the way your heart skipped. “Keep the flattery for someone you can actually touch.”
Another pause — this one quieter, heavier. Then: “I can touch you.. just to remind you,” he murmured.
You swallowed, suddenly unsure what to say. The light from the window dimmed as clouds rolled in outside, shadows crawling gently across the old wood floor. You pretended to focus on your groceries again, voice light but trembling slightly.
“Well,” you said, “if you’re going to touch me, at least help me unpack next time.” A faint rustle answered you — the bag of rice shifting slightly on its own, sliding closer to the cabinet.
You froze. Then laughed, a soft disbelieving sound. “Show-off.” From behind you hear his amused whisper, low and tender “Only for my wife.”
—
It was past midnight, the kind of hour where even the wind outside seemed half-asleep. The house was wrapped in silence, save for the soft rustle of paper as you turned another page of your book. The lamp beside your bed cast a warm circle of light that didn’t quite reach the corners of the room, where the dark always seemed to breathe.
You could feel him there. “Jun,” you said quietly, without looking up. “Are you here?” A pause — then that familiar voice, soft and close. “I’m always here.”
You smiled faintly, still reading. “That’s supposed to be comforting, right?” “I suppose that depends,” he murmured, “on whether you believe I’m haunting you or protecting you.”
You tilted your head toward the voice. “You keep saying you’re not haunting me, but it sure feels like it sometimes.” “Would a haunt make your tea every morning?” he teased gently.
“That was you?” You blinked. “I thought I was just.. sleepwalking.” “I can’t do much,” he said quietly, “but I can move little things when the night is kind to me.”
You shut the book slowly, the words blurring. “Why do you do it?” “Because you forget to take care of yourself when you write,” he said simply. “You get lost. I don’t want to see you vanish the way I did.”
Your breath caught. “The way you did?” He didn’t answer at first — only silence, deep and heavy, filled the room. Then, softly “I loved too fiercely. Enough to tether my soul here.” You looked toward the darkness, where you thought his voice had come from. “For her? Your wife?”
A faint laugh, like wind through old glass. “For you.” The room suddenly felt colder, your heart lurching against your ribs. “Jun, that’s-” “I know,” he interrupted gently. “It doesn’t make sense. Not to you. Not yet.”
You pulled the blanket tighter around you, eyes scanning the space though you knew you wouldn’t see him. “You sound like a tragic novel waiting to happen.” “Perhaps that’s why you were drawn here,” he said softly. “Writers always return to unfinished stories.”
You exhaled, half a sigh, half a shaky laugh. “You make everything sound like fate.” “Isn’t it?” His voice was closer now — you swore you felt the faintest brush of fingers along your hair, so gentle you might’ve imagined it.
“You should sleep,” he murmured. “The world outside can wait.” “Are you staying?” you asked, eyes drooping. “I never left.” You smiled faintly, a small surrender, before your eyelids fluttered closed.
Jun stayed — unseen but so achingly near, his presence hovering like a heartbeat in the dark. And when your breathing evened out, his whisper came, softer than a sigh “You once told me you’d find me again. I suppose you always keep your promises.”
The cafe was the kind that looked like a Pinterest board come to life — soft lighting, fern leaves drooping over every table, the faint hum of an espresso machine mixing with lo-fi music. You sat by the window with your laptop open, pretending to edit your manuscript while your three best friends interrogated you like you were on trial.
“So,” Hao started, sipping his iced latte dramatically, “how’s married life?” You choked on your drink. “What- excuse me?” Min snorted. “Don’t play dumb. You literally sent us a picture of another portrait and said, He’s kinda hot for a dead guy. Don’t tell me you’re not crushing on the house ghost.”
You pressed your fingers against your temple. “I was joking!” “Were you, though?” Gyu cut in, deadpan as ever. “You also texted last night that someone made you tea again. Either you have a kind spirit or a trespasser with excellent domestic skills.”
Seokmin gasped theatrically. “Or maybe both!” You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “He’s a ghost.” “Then why are you blushing?” Minghao leaned forward with a grin. “Look at her, Seok- she’s blushing!”
“I am not!” you hissed, but your cheeks burned hotter than the cappuccino in front of you. “He’s just..” You stopped, realising how ridiculous it would sound to admit that Jun talked to you every night. That he teased you, cared for you, comforted you in ways that humans can’t even do.
Mingyu leaned back, stirring his coffee lazily. “You’re acting like you’ve got a boyfriend who only comes out after dark.” You glared at him. “He’s not my boyfriend.” Seokmin propped his chin on his hands. “Not yet.”
Hao laughed so hard he nearly spilled his drink. “God, this is gonna be one of her novels, isn’t it? Lonely writer moves into a haunted house, ghost falls in love with her, she says it’s a curse, but he says it’s destiny-”
“Stop quoting my life!” you interrupted, waving your spoon like a weapon. “You guys are the worst.” “We’re the realists,” Min said, still smirking. “You just happen to be living inside your own plot twist.”
For a moment, they all laughed, that kind of carefree, echoing laugh that only happens in midday cafes. You joined in too, trying to drown out the strange warmth you felt under your ribs.
Your laughter stuttered, your eyes darting toward the window. The glass reflected only you and your friends — no one else. You sometimes think every time you’re outside, is he bored at home? Is he okay? That quiet presence. A part of you just wants to stay at home.
“See?” Min teased, nudging you. “She’s spacing out. Probably thinking about her ghost husband.” You forced a laugh, looking back at him, heart racing. “Yeah,” you said softly. “Something like that.”
The cafe hummed with lazy afternoon chatter. You sat across from Minghao, Seokmin, and Mingyu, who somehow turned what was supposed to be a casual catch-up into a full-blown roast session.
“You’re into ghosts now, huh? So that’s why you’re not dating anyone alive?” Hao said, chuckling. You jabbed a straw at him. “Minghao, I swear to God-” Gyu raised an eyebrow. “What’s his name again?” You hesitated. The word caught on your tongue. “Jun.”
All three of them stared for a beat before Min smirked. “Jun? You even named him?” “I didn’t name him!” you said quickly. “That’s what he-” You froze. “That’s what his real wife, maybe, called him.”
“Right.” Mingyu nodded, clearly unconvinced. “So this ghost talks to you, cooks for you, and sleeps beside you-” “He doesn’t sleep beside me!” you blurted, heat rising to your cheeks. “He just- he-” “Uh-huh.” Seokmin grinned. “You’re doomed, man. She’s in deep.”
You tried to laugh it off, but your pulse was unsteady. Because later, when you were back home and the house greeted you with that quiet stillness, the laughter from earlier still echoed faintly in your head — you called Jun, yet no one was responding.
You frowned. He always answered when you came home. Even just a faint, teasing whisper — You’re late, little human. But tonight, nothing. Just the quiet hum of air through the vents and the faint ticking of the antique clock in the foyer.
“Okay,” you muttered to yourself, forcing a laugh. “So we’re doing the ghost-silent-treatment thing now? Cute.” You busied yourself in the kitchen, slamming a cabinet or two a little louder than necessary. Still nothing. The quiet felt heavier now — not the peaceful kind, but the kind that watches you.
“Jun.” You called again, voice sharper. “If you’re mad at me for something, at least say it. Don’t just.. vanish.” The air stirred faintly behind you, like a breath on your neck. You turned, but the space was empty. A shiver ran down your arms.
“Come on. Don’t tell me you’re sulking because I went out with my friends.” You rolled your eyes, more to convince yourself than anything. “You’re not seriously mad, right?” Still nothing. You exhaled. “Fine. Silent treatment it is. You win. I’ll just talk to myself then.”
You started rambling, pacing the living room like a stand-up comic trying to fill dead air. “For the record, they’re friends. Normal, breathing, alive friends who buy me coffee and don’t haunt my house.”
The chandelier above flickered faintly. You stopped. “Did I strike a nerve there?” A faint hum of energy prickled across your skin — the sign that he was listening, even if he didn’t want to admit it.
You sighed, softer now. “You know, it’s kind of unfair. You disappear when I talk to other people, but then you act like I’m supposed to just stay here waiting for you to materialise out of thin air.” The silence stretched.
You pressed your lips together. “I’m not yours, Jun.”
That’s when you heard it — not a loud voice, but something that slid into your mind like a thought that wasn’t yours. “Aren’t you?” You froze. The temperature dropped suddenly, enough for your breath to fog in front of you.
“You wear my ring,” his voice murmured now, closer, though he still wasn’t visible. “You live in my house. You sleep in my bed. You call my name every night without realising it.”
You spun toward the sound. “You didn’t answer when I came home. You scared me.” “I know.” The reply was soft, low, guilty — but underneath it, something darker stirred. “You talked about me with them,” Jun continued, voice drifting between the walls, nearer and nearer. “You laughed. You blushed. Did you enjoy that?”
“Jun,” you warned, heart pounding, “how did you even-? Don’t do this.” He let out a breath of what almost sounded like a laugh. “You think I don’t feel it? Every time someone says your name, every time you smile at someone else, it burns.”
Your pulse quickened, a strange mix of fear and warmth tightening in your chest. “You’re not even alive, Jun. What are you implying?” “Maybe not,” he whispered. “But you still make me feel it.”
You swallowed hard, staring at the faint outline of his form starting to shimmer near the hallway mirror — not solid yet, just smoke and memory. “Then don’t disappear like that again,” you said quietly. “If you can feel something, then talk to me. Don’t just.. leave.”
For a heartbeat, nothing. Then the faintest smile crossed his half-formed face. “You missed me.” You scoffed. “You were sulking.” “I was angry,” he corrected. “Because for a moment, I thought maybe you preferred your men.” You looked at the mirror — at his faint, sorrowful expression behind your reflection.
“They're not my men.. they’re my friends. You’re impossible,” you whispered. “And you,” Jun said softly, “are the only thing I’ve wanted in centuries.”
The room stilled. The air grew warmer. You felt the ghost of fingers trace the outline of your wrist — not cold, but not quite warm either. Just real enough to make you tremble.
Jun's reflection leaned closer, his gaze locked on your lips. His hands moved from your wrist to either side of your head, trapping you gently between his ghostly palms. “Say you're mine,” he whispered, his voice low and urgent.
You didn’t answer. He held your hands and pulled you near the mirror, “Do you need to see me, for you to talk?” he said, a little annoyed, you’re not sure whether to you or to himself. You looked directly at the mirror, memorising his ethereal face.
His hands framed your face, thumbs gently brushing your cheeks as he stared into your eyes, making you look at his direction directly, nothing, you can see nothing. But you could feel his presence, his breath ghosting over your neck. “I'm not in the mirror, my wife” he murmured, voice coming from both directions. “I'm here.”
The ghostly hands slid from your cheeks to the back of your neck, fingers tangling in your hair. He leaned in closer, his translucent lips hovering just above yours. “Let me kiss you,” he whispered against your mouth. “Please.”
You smiled.. “only because you asked this time.” Jun's reflection smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. He loved when you teased him, even a little. It meant you weren't scared of him. “Only because I asked?” He repeated softly, his voice ghosting over your lips. “You admitted before that you did without my consent.”
His expression turned serious, one hand moving to gently grasp your chin, turning your face slightly as if preparing to kiss you but stopping himself. “I’m sorry. That was my mistake.” His thumb brushed over your bottom lip. “This time.. will be different.”
He stared at you intently, his hands steady and gentle. “I'll ask for permission every time. I'll wait for your agreement. And if you say no, I'll stop.” His voice was quiet, sincere. His eyes searched yours, looking for understanding.
You parted your lips slightly to answer. “Then go on.” That was all Jun needed. He surged forward, capturing your mouth softly at first. He tested your response — one hand cupped your cheek possessively while the other slid around your waist. You hummed softly, making him deeper. Now this is weird but also kinda hot.. I’m kissing the air.
Jun’s kiss grew more insistent, his tongue gently probing your mouth. He tasted sweet, like a phantom memory of honey and mint. His hands roamed from your waist downwards until they gripped onto your hips firmly pulling you closer towards him. You can feel him.
You gasped against his mouth as he pulled you closer, his cold hands gripping your hips tightly. Jun took advantage of your open mouth, deepening the kiss even further by pushing his tongue inside. He tangled it with yours, exploring your mouth thoroughly as if he was trying to memorise the taste of you. “Fucking hell, you taste like heaven.”
“For someone who’s dead, you curse so strongly.” You said laughing in between the kisses. In the mirror, you can see him smirking against your lips, his voice husky and amused. “Even ghosts can curse when they’re kissing someone they’ve been longing for.” His hands slid down to your thighs lifting them slightly as if trying to pull them around his waist.
You giggled, the sound muffled against his mouth. Jun groaned, the vibration sending shivers down your spine. He pulled harder, attempting to wrap your legs around his unseen waist. The mirror grew warmer, fogging up completely as their kiss grew more intense, more desperate.
“Jun.. my imaginations may be wild, yet I can’t do this to someone I can only see in the mirror”
Jun’s smirk faltered. For a second, his reflection looked as though it was flickering — as if even his smile could no longer hold shape. Then he stepped back, his eyes dark and distant. “You can’t see me because you’re not supposed to.”
Before you could ask what that meant, his hand — cold but firm — grasped your wrist. The mirror rippled like water as he pulled you through the hallway. You stumbled after him, feet barely touching the ground, until you reached a door you had never opened before. It was the last one at the end of the corridor at the third floor — carved oak, locked since the day you moved in.
“Jun, wait-” But the door creaked open on its own, revealing a dimly lit room heavy with the scent of old wood and faded perfume. Dust particles drifted lazily in the air, but beneath the decay, everything was preserved. A canopy bed stood at the center, its sheets neat, untouched. A wedding veil lay folded at the pillow’s edge.
“This room” you whispered. “I never-” “Because you weren’t meant to remember it.”
Jun’s voice was quieter now, stripped of playfulness, stripped of warmth. He stood by the window, you can’t even see his figure under the pale afternoon light. You could see the garden though — but you know his eyes were solid, endless, tired.
“You walk through this house like a stranger because you are one. But once, you weren’t.” Your chest tightened. “What are you saying?” He looked at you, a faint tremor in his hands. “You can’t see me because you can’t even remember who I am.”
The words felt like a knife — sharp, but dull in disbelief. “That’s impossible. I just moved here. I just-” Jun shook his head. “No. You came back.” He stepped closer. His voice softened, trembling with a kind of desperation you’d never heard from him before.
“You promised me you would, before you died.” Your breath caught. “Died?” “Before you died,” he said again, slower this time, as if tasting every syllable. “You said you would find me. You said, ‘Wait for me. Even if it takes lifetimes, I’ll come back.’”
You blinked rapidly, a faint ringing in your ears. Your mind refused to accept it — but your body remembered something. A pulse in your fingertips. A flash of a wedding ring. A man’s laughter. A voice saying My Jun.
He continued, eyes glimmering like glass. “I remembered everything. That’s my curse. I have lived every life remembering you — who you were, how you died, how you looked at me the day we said our vows. Every damn lifetime.”
The room felt like it was spinning. You staggered back a step and looked around the room, dizzy. That’s where you realise, this room is the real master bedroom, with another portrait.. where Jun and the same woman from downstairs. The difference is that you could see her face clearly now.
A face that is very familiar to you. A face that you see everyday. It’s your face. It’s you. “No.. Jun, that can’t be real. That’s-” “You’ve always said that,” he whispered. “Every life. Every time we meet, you never remember at first. But I always do. And every time, I find you.”
You shook your head, heart pounding painfully. “Then why am I here? Why this house?” “Because it’s where we lived,” Jun said simply. “Where I built a home for you. And where I died waiting when you didn’t come back.”
Your lips parted, but no sound came out. He looked around the room, his gaze softening with memory. “They called it devotion. I called it punishment. I’ve been bound here, in this house, between life and death, waiting for you. Every creak of the floorboards, every breeze through the window — it’s been you I’ve been calling.”
You sank onto the edge of the bed, the veil beside you brushing against your hands. “Then.. I died?” Jun nodded slowly. “You did. In this life, you lost control of your car the day before our wedding anniversary. You were coming here.” He knelt before you, his touch barely grazing your knee, but warm now, almost human.
“You survived,” he whispered. “But you lost your memory. You forgot me.” Tears burned your eyes before you even realised you were crying. “So that’s why I can’t see you. Because part of me still refuses to remember.”
Jun smiled sadly, brushing your tears away with fingers that faded halfway through the motion. “You can’t see me because you don’t believe in me anymore. And without your belief, I’m barely here.”
You tried reaching out to touch him, his hands guiding your hands to his face — his cheek, his hair, anything solid — but your hand passed through his face like mist.
Until it didn’t.
Warmth bloomed under your touch. Solid. Living. Real. You gasped softly, feeling your heartbeat stumble as Jun’s features sharpened in front of you — the faint curve of his smile, the mole beneath his eye, the soft slope of his nose. He was no longer just a shimmer in the mirror; he was right there.
He was beautiful. And familiar. He’s divine.
The air pulsed once and then everything tilted. The floor beneath your feet dissolved, colours shifting, walls melting into light. You blinked and suddenly, the world changed.
Sunlight streamed through the canopy of white sakura trees, their petals falling like snow. You stood under an arch woven with lilies and pearls, your hands trembling as Jun slid a ring onto your finger.
“Do you promise to haunt me even if I die first?” you teased, your voice catching from laughter and tears. Jun’s lips curved into that same half-smile you’d later dream about. “I’d rather haunt the world than live in it without you.”
You threw your head back, laughing softly, pressing your forehead to his. “That sounds like a curse.”He smiled against your lips. “Then I’ll gladly be cursed.”
—
You stood in front of the house you live in now — only brighter, newer. Boxes piled high on the porch, sunlight filtering through the vines climbing the walls. Jun appeared behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist. “Our forever home,” he said, kissing your temple.
“It’s old,” you murmured. “And it creaks.” “So do we, sometimes.” You laughed, swatting at him. “That’s not romantic.”
He leaned closer, whispering, “Then let me try again.” He kissed your shoulder gently. “Our love will creak too, old, stubborn, and impossible to let go.”
—
The sound of clinking porcelain. You sat at the wooden kitchen table, hair still messy from sleep, while Jun poured you tea with that same careful grace he did everything with.
He kissed the back of your hand. “You always forget breakfast when you write.” “And you always act like I’ll starve in two hours,” you said, rolling your eyes playfully.
“Because you will,” he replied, sliding the cup toward you. “My wife, the novelist who forgets she has a body.” You smiled, reaching out to tug him closer by the tie. “You talk too much hubby.”
He chuckled. “I love you” you smiled “I love you more”
—
The clock struck midnight, the house silent except for the faint hum of the record player. You were in your pajamas, barefoot on the hardwood floor. Jun appeared behind you, holding out his hand.
“Dance with me,” he said simply. “There’s no music.” “There’s us.”
You laughed, slipping your hand into his. He spun you once, your laughter echoing in the dim light. The two of you swayed lazily, the world shrinking to the warmth of his hands on your waist and the sound of your quiet breaths syncing together.
—
Thunder boomed outside, rain drumming against the windows. You were both huddled in front of the fireplace, wrapped in a single blanket. “Tell me something true,” you murmured, tracing his palm with your finger.
Jun’s gaze softened. “When I first saw you, I thought I had seen you before. Like in a dream that I’d already lived.” “And did you?” you asked.
His silence was long, his thumb brushing your cheek. “Maybe I’ll tell you in another life.” You frowned. “That’s unfair.” “Then stay with me in this one,” he whispered, voice low, almost pleading.
Both of you laughed, as the warmth between you two became one, cuddling at the stormy weather at the bed.
—
“Jun, stop reading over my shoulder!” you groaned, swatting him lightly with your pen. “I can’t help it,” he said, grinning. “Your characters sound like us.” “They do not.”
“They do. ‘The stubborn man who won’t take no for an answer,’” he quoted dramatically, pointing to the page. “That’s clearly me.” You threw a crumpled paper at him. “Then I’ll kill your character next.”
“Then I’ll haunt you,” he teased, eyes glimmering. You rolled your eyes. “Then I’ll marry you out of guilt.” “Perfect. My plan worked.”
—
Sunlight peeked through sheer curtains, painting soft stripes across the bed. Jun’s arm was draped lazily around your waist, his chest rising and falling behind you.
“Jun,” you murmured sleepily. “You’re heavy.” He chuckled, half-asleep. “You used to like it.” “I changed my mind.” He buried his face into your hair. “Too late. You married me.”
You sighed, smiling to yourself. “You’re impossible.” He kissed your shoulder. “So are you. That’s why it works.”
—
The dining room was dim except for candles you hastily lit on a lopsided cake. Jun entered the room and froze, eyes widening as you yelled, “Happy birthday!” “I told you not to-”
“You think I listen to you?” you said, grinning. “Make a wish before I eat it all.” He stared at you for a moment before blowing the candles out. “I already did.”
You blinked. “What’d you wish for?” He leaned in, his lips brushing your ear. “To live long enough to grow old with you.” You laughed, rolling your eyes. “That’s so cheesy.”
But he smiled softly. “Cheesy things are true things.”
—
The smell of oil paint filled the room. You sat by the window, sunlight catching in your hair while Jun worked on a portrait of you. “You’re taking forever,” you complained, swinging your legs.
He looked up from the canvas, smirking. “You move too much.” “I’m bored.” “Then talk to me.” You tilted your head. “What should I say?”
“Say something I can remember,” he said. You smiled. “I love you.” He paused, brush mid-air. “That’ll do.”
The memories collided with reality, your breath ragged as you stumbled back. The house, the mirror, the kitchen — everything shimmered and settled again into the dim golden light of dusk.
You were crying. Not from fear, but from the weight of recognition. “Jun,” you whispered, your hands trembling as they cupped his face. “I remember everything.”
Jun smiled through the tears shining in his eyes. His thumb brushed the corner of your lips like he’d done a thousand times before. “You came back to me.”
Your lips trembled. “And you waited.” He nodded once, a soft, broken laugh escaping him. “Every lifetime.”
His smile turned into a hungry kiss as he pressed you against the old bed where you shared countless moments together you’ve forgotten. His hands roamed over familiar curves remembered through centuries of waiting — for this exact moment where memory returned fully between two souls meant to be entwined forever.
His hands trailed down to your waist, pulling you flush against him as he kissed along your jawline. Suddenly, he pressed a cold finger to your neck, activating a necromantic chill that made you gasp and arch into him. “Do you remember my touch?” He whispered huskily
A wicked smile spread across his face as he remembered your kinks. He reached over to the bedside table and lit a candle, the flame flickering to life in the dim room. He started playing with temperatures, his breath, his touch being entirely cold, and the candle.. the wax. He dribbled hot wax onto your collarbone, watching as you gasped and your eyes fluttered closed. He knew exactly what you liked.
He kissed down your neck, his mouth alternately hot and cold like fire and ice. “Wife.. you taste so good.” His lips trailed open-mouthed kisses along your collarbone with wax on it as he slowly unbuttoned your shirt, revealing more skin for him to worship.
One hand continued the slow torture of dripping hot wax onto your skin while the other hand slipped under your bra, teasing your nipple with cold fingertips. “Cold or hot first?” He didn't wait for an answer, switching between hot wax poured onto your chest and his ice-cold hands caressing your skin.
This leaves you shivering and gasping beneath his touch. He unhooked your bra, throwing it somewhere as he continued his assault on your senses, his mouth claiming one hardening nipple while his fingers played with the other.
Junhui worshipped your body like he’d been starved for centuries — because he had been. His mouth trailed down to your stomach, kissing and licking each inch of skin he uncovered. He unbuttoned your pants slowly, almost reverently, pulling them down your legs along with your underwear.
He spread your legs gently, his cold hands contrasting with the heat of your core. He leaned down, blowing a cool breath over your clit before he spoke. “I remember everything about you. Every moan, every gasp, every shiver.”
“And I remember how you used to drive me crazy with that mouth of yours.” You spread your legs wider, teasing him deliberately. Jun groaned, pressing a freezing cold kiss directly onto your clit. “Stop teasing me with your knowledge of my body,”
His cold tongue replaced his lips, licking a slow path up your slit before sucking your clit into his mouth. He used his fingers to spread you open further, his ice-cold digits pushing inside you suddenly. You gasped and bucked against him. “Uhmm-hmm jun..” “You used to call me hubby.” He murmured.
“My hubby,” He growled against your sensitive folds, his fingers curling inside you while his tongue worked overtime on your clit. He remembered every spot that made you moan hubby. His other hand snaked up to pinch one of your nipples hard, making you arch into him.
“You used to grab my hair and fuck my face when I do this..” He demonstrated by sucking hard on your clit while pushing three cold fingers deep inside you, curling them exactly how you used to love. “Ugh! Fuck-”
You instantly wrapped your legs around his head, gripping his hair tightly and riding his face as you moaned his name like a prayer. Jun moaned loudly, his fingers freezing cold inside you as he remembered how much he loved being used by you.
“God, you always ride my face hard when I touch you like this.” He added another finger, spreading them wide inside you, hitting your favourite spot. He blew cold air onto your clit again, watching your body tightly coil with remembered pleasure.
“Stop reminiscing,” You pushed his head away sharply. He laughed softly, his mouth wet with your arousal. “No more remembering how you used to bounce on my face?” He teased, trying to pull your hips back down onto his mouth. You smacked his head lightly, “Asshole.”
He caught your hips sharply, pulling you back. He spread your legs wide, feasting on you like a starving man. His fingers still inside you, curving them perfectly as he ate you loudly, slurping and sucking your clit like it was his last meal.
Your body tightened like a bowstring as he remembered exactly how you liked it. Within minutes, you were crying out, your legs shaking as you came hard against his mouth. “Junhui- God! Aghh Oh my- fuck!”
He kept eating you through your orgasm, his cold fingers never stopping their relentless attack on that sweet spot inside you. He loved how you tasted, how you moaned his name like a dirty prayer. When your legs finally stopped shaking, he pulled away slowly, licking his lips.
He sat up, his face glistening with your juices. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, looking up at you with hooded eyes. “You taste even better than I remembered,” he said huskily. He spread his legs slightly, palming his hard, cold erection through his pants.
“My turn, hubby.”
You smirked and slowly removed his jacket and white collared shirt, revealing his perfectly sculpted abs. He lifted his hips so you could pull down his pants and boxers in one smooth motion. His massive, erect dick sprang free, slapping against his stomach with a wet smack.
His hands came up to grip your hair as you looked down at his length. He was already cold and hard, leaking pre-cum. “Take it in your mouth,” he ordered roughly, his Chinese accent thickening with desire. His hand tightened in your hair possessively. “Open Wen Y/N”
You spread your lips slowly, taking the tip of him into your hot mouth. He hissed sharply, his hips bucking slightly. “Damn it,” He muttered softly, watching your wet mouth stretch around him. “You used to deep throat like a pro.” He gripped your hair tighter, guiding you slightly.
His eyes rolled back as you suddenly took him deep into your throat without warning, your nose pressing against his balls. He let out a choked groan — “Fucking hell..” His hands tangled in your hair desperately as you started bobbing up and down rapidly, sucking hard “Shit.. shit- shit, you’re even better now!”
His cold dick throbbed in your mouth as you kept deepthroating him, your tongue pressing against the sensitive vein underneath. He could barely speak, his voice coming out strained “Fuck...fuck..fuck! Goddam- Ughh”
With a loud, muffled groan, he came down your throat, his hips jerking uncontrollably. You swallowed every drop before pulling off with a wet pop. He fell back onto the bed, panting heavily. “Still so noisy” You commented dryly, crawling up his body.
He wrapped his arms around you tightly, nuzzling into your neck and inhaling your scent. “Sure sure..” He murmured against your skin, his voice hoarse. “You’re the loud one. Always screaming my name.” He started kissing and sucking on your neck possessively. “My hubby.. still so good for me.”
He rolled you onto your back, covering your body with his. I can’t even see the ceiling. His cold hands gripped your wrists, pinning them above your head. His dark brown eyes bore into yours intensely. “Turns out, my wife gives even better head now. I wonder how else she’s improved.”
One hand slid under your thigh. “Spread for me, Y/N. Let me check if that tight hole still belongs to me only.” His voice was low and commanding.
He pushed your legs apart roughly, his cold dick already hardening again. I’m fucking a ghost. He’s so cold. He positioned himself at your entrance, rubbing the head against your sensitive spot. “You know what I love about this position?” He asked, his voice husky.
“What?” You barely said, “It lets me go deep,” He answered darkly, pushing your thighs back sharply and slamming inside you hard. He hit the bottom instantly, making you cry out loudly. “See?” He pulled back and thrust hard again, making you bounce on the bed. “Noisy.”
He started pounding into you relentlessly, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room along with your loud moans and cries. One hand remained on your wrist above your head holding it back while the other on your thighs “Fuck-” He groaned, “Too loud, my wife”
His thrusts became deeper and harder, hitting that spot inside you perfectly. Your loud moans turned into high-pitched screams as he fucked you brutally. “Shut up...shut up”
He slapped a hand over your mouth as you screamed during another deep thrust. “AHHH-” “Jesus,” He muttered against your neck, “You sound like a fucking porn star.” He bit down on your shoulder to muffle his own groan, still fucking you mercilessly.
Your world turned into a blur of cold hands gripping your body painfully, eyes glinting menacingly above you, and a ghostly cock pounding into you. You could feel every inch of him stretching you open, hitting depths you never knew existed. “Mmph..”
You felt possessed, fucked by a literal ghost who showed no mercy. His cold body slammed against yours relentlessly, making the headboard bang against the wall loudly. Your screams were echoing, spit dripping from the corners of your mouth.
Tears streamed down your face from the intense pleasure-pain as he hit your cervix with every thrust. Your nails scrambled against his back, leaving red marks on his pale skin. You felt like you were being claimed by a supernatural being, completely at his mercy. “Nghh!”
Your tears only seemed to fuel his hunger for you. He watched, mesmerised, as they spilled down your cheeks and dripped onto the pillow. “Adorable,” He groaned, his voice laced with dark desire. “My pretty wife crying while I fuck you stupid.”
Mid-thrust, an abrupt memory flashed through his mind — the candle he had lit earlier, still burning softly nearby. A wicked smirk crossed his ghostly face as an idea struck him. “Hold that thought..” He suddenly pulled out completely, leaving you empty and whimpering. “Don't move.”
He quickly reached the candle, dipping his cold fingers into the melted wax. The room fell silent except for your laboured breathing and soft sniffles. “I forgot you’re a ghost, and how you can’t feel pain.” He chuckled then looming over you with a sinister grin and wax-covered fingers. “Spread wider,” He ordered darkly. “Let's play a little game.”
Without warning, he pressed the warm wax against your sensitive entrance, pushing it inside you slowly. You gasped at the foreign feeling, your hole stretching to accommodate the wax. He added more, filling you up with the warm substance before snapping his fingers. “Cold now.” The wax instantly hardened inside you,
Leaving you with a feeling of extreme fullness and pressure. He pushed your legs back even further, until your knees were practically touching your ears. “Now, let's see how long this pretty little human can hold still while I fuck her with a frozen, wax-filled hole.”
He lined up his cock again, pushing the head against your entrance. He groaned as he slowly slid in, the hardened wax making you even tighter than before. “Goddamn,” He grunted, “You feel insane right now.”
With a sharp thrust, he buried himself balls-deep inside you. The sudden intrusion forced a loud, strangled moan from your throat. “Ahh..! F-fuck..!” You bucked your hips instinctively, only for the wax to shift inside you uncomfortably. “N-no...ahh- st-still..”
He wrapped a hand around your throat to hold you down as he started thrusting his hips slowly, each thrust causing the wax to grind against your prostate pleasurably. Your moans turned into broken whimpers as he fucked you with that unrelenting fullness. “Shh, my wife.. just take it”
He picked up the pace, his hips slapping against yours with wet smacks. The wax inside you began to melt slightly from the friction, creating a warm, sticky sensation that had you moaning uncontrollably. “Ahh..ahh...ahhh!”
Your loud, desperate moans sent him over the edge. He slammed into you one last time, hitting your prostate dead on as he came hard inside you. “FUCK!” He groaned loudly, his cock pulsing as he filled you with his hot cum. “HUBBY!” You screamed as you cream his cock as well inside.
He stayed buried inside you, his heavy breathing gradually slowing as he nuzzled against your neck. The melted wax and his release dripped out of you messily, coating your inner thighs. After a moment, he pulled out slowly, watching as more fluid followed. “Mmm”
You looked down at the mess between your legs, then back up at him with confused eyes. “How.. how are you cumming? You're a ghost” He smirked mischievously, “Ghost sex has its perks, wife. My spirit can still produce semen.”
“And trust me, it feels just as good as real cum would.” He chuckled softly, floating down to clean himself up with some tissues he got at the night stand. “Plus, being dead means I can fuck you for hours without getting tired.”
Your eyes widen, completely not understanding what happened just now, “can I get pregnant..? BY A GHOST?!”
He raised an eyebrow at you, then shook his head with a soft laugh. “No, Y/N. You can’t get pregnant from ghost sex.” He explained, “My spirit might produce semen, but it lacks the necessary components to impregnate anyone.”
“Oh ok,” you sighed, relieved. His smirk turned into a full-blown grin as he went back up to top you, hovering between your legs. “So basically, I can fill you up as much as I want, and there’s zero risk of an actual baby.” He leaned down to kiss your neck and the night was long.
The morning light slipped through the old lace curtains, pooling soft gold across the floorboards. The air was warmer than usual — almost gentle, like the house itself didn’t want to disturb you. You stirred under the sheets, your body still aching in ways you couldn’t explain, every muscle sore but tingling with something that felt like longing.
This bed feels more like me, than the other bed. I love to be back.
Jun sat beside the bed, his elbow resting on the headboard, chin on his hand, smiling softly. “You’re awake,” he murmured. His voice was as calm as ever, but there was something different in his gaze — something steady, quiet, almost resigned.
You groaned, trying to sit up. “Remind me to never let a ghost manhandle me again.” He laughed — that deep, melodic laugh that used to echo down the hallways when the house was still alive. “You weren’t complaining last night.”
“Yeah, well,” you muttered, cheeks warming as you tried to swing your legs off the bed, “that was before I realized ghosts apparently have stamina.”
Jun leaned forward, catching your wrist before you could stand. “Careful,” he said softly. “Don’t move too fast. You’re still sore.” You rolled your eyes. “I can handle it.”
“Of course you can,” he teased, standing and offering his hand anyway. “But let me handle you for once.” You took his hand without thinking — it felt solid now, warm even. The thought almost made your chest ache. “Since when did you get so smug?”
He smiled faintly, leading you toward the kitchen. “Since I got my wife back.” You froze mid-step, and for a moment, your breath caught. He said it so casually, like it was the most ordinary truth in the world. But something in his tone — that faint tremor beneath the calm — made your heart twist.
“Jun..” He only smiled again, brushing a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “Breakfast first. Heavy hearts need coffee.”
He made pancakes. You didn’t even think ghosts could cook, but the smell of butter and sugar filled the air, and when you asked how he did it, Jun just shrugged. “You said you missed the scent of home,” he said, flipping one perfectly golden. “So I borrowed it from your memory.” You laughed. “That’s creepy and romantic. I can’t decide which.” “Can’t it be both?”
The rest of the day passed in a strange sort of domestic bliss. You both cleaned the bedroom — or at least, you did, and Jun hovered around you, pretending to help but mostly teasing you. He brushed wax off your cheek, steadying you every time you leaned too close.
“Do you ever miss it?” you asked suddenly, when you caught him watching the sunlight through the window. He turned to you, smiling faintly. “Miss what?” “Being alive.” For a heartbeat, his smile faltered. Then he said quietly, “Not anymore. Everything I ever wanted.. is standing right here.”
You stared at him — the soft glow in his eyes, the way his voice trembled like he was holding back something heavy. You didn’t press. Instead, you reached out and brushed his hand — and this time, it felt entirely real.
Jun blinked, then smiled again, softer this time. “See? You’re getting stronger.” You frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?” He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he leaned forward, pressing a light kiss to your forehead — his lips almost warm now. “It means you’ll be okay,” he whispered. “Even when I’m not here to make pancakes for you.”
You looked up sharply. “What are you talking about-” “Nothing,” he interrupted, smiling again — that same too-gentle, too-final smile. “Just saying.. ghosts like me don’t get forever. So promise me, if I ever fade away” He brushed your cheek with his thumb. “…don’t stop living.”
You didn’t know why, but the air grew heavier around you. The sunlight dimmed. You forced a laugh. “You’re being dramatic again.”
Jun chuckled softly, though his eyes were glistening in the light. “Maybe. But if being dramatic lets me stay in your memory, then I’ll take it.”
You stared at him for a long time, the ache in your chest tightening, and for a fleeting moment, you swore you could see through him — just a shimmer, like heat rising from pavement. But you blinked, and he was solid again. Smiling. Alive in his own way.
And so, you smiled back. “You’ll have to work harder than that to get rid of me.” He leaned in and kissed your lips. “I know,” he whispered. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”
—
The night came gentle, like the world itself didn’t want to wake you. You sat on the veranda with Jun, a single candle flickering between you — its flame bending and swaying with the wind. The garden was quiet, the air thick with that faint sweetness of rose and memory.
Jun leaned back in his chair, watching you instead of the stars. You didn’t notice at first how still he’d become. “I used to dream of this,” he said softly. “Of what?” “Peace.” He smiled faintly, eyes never leaving your face. “I thought I’d forgotten what it felt like.”
You chuckled, sipping your tea. “You sound like someone who’s about to give a farewell speech.” “Maybe I am.” You frowned. “Jun.”
He turned toward you, eyes reflecting the candlelight, gold and endless and unbearably sad. “You remember everything now, don’t you?” You blinked. “What do you mean?” “Us,” he whispered. “Before this life. Before this house. Before the accident.”
The words hit you like a chill. The images — faint, half-remembered — started to surface. The rain. Screeching tires. The ring glinting against the pavement. Jun’s voice calling your name, desperate, echoing. And then.. nothing.
Your throat tightened. “I- I saw flashes. I thought they were dreams.” He reached out, brushing your cheek with the back of his hand. His touch was lighter than before — fading. “They were memories. The last ones we shared before everything ended.”
You shook your head, tears already welling. “Ended? No.. we found each other again, didn’t we? You said you waited for me-” “I did,” Jun said, smiling. “Every life I remembered, I searched for you. Sometimes I found you. Sometimes I didn’t. But this time..” He paused, his voice breaking. “This time, you came back to me.”
“Then why- why does it sound like you’re saying goodbye?” you asked, your voice trembling. “Because I am.” You froze. “No.”
He moved closer, cupping your face, thumbs tracing slow circles over your tears. His hands were almost see-through now — light bleeding through his fingers. “My curse was to remember every life,” he said softly. “To live them all until I learned to let go.”
“Jun, stop-”
“But yours,” he whispered, “was to forget. To live free of the pain. To start again.”
—
The moment the words left his lips, something in your chest cracked open — a white flash of pain, too bright to bear. And then..
White walls. The soft hum of machines. A dull ache at the back of your head. You blinked your eyes open and found yourself lying on a hospital bed. Your throat was dry, your body heavy. The faint rhythm of a heart monitor keeps time with your shallow breathing.
“Mingyu- she’s awake!” You turned your head weakly. Three faces came into focus — Mingyu, Seokmin, and Minghao — all hovering near your bed, eyes wide with relief. Mingyu reached out, holding your hand tightly as if grounding you.
“Hey,” he said softly, voice trembling. “You scared us.” You looked at them, confused. “What.. happened?” Seokmin’s smile faltered. “You got into an accident. You’ve been out for a few days.”
You nodded slowly, your mind foggy. But as you looked at their faces — familiar yet oddly distant — you felt something off. Something hollow. “Was anyone else with me?” you asked after a moment.
They froze. Minghao looked down at the floor, his jaw tight. “No,” he said finally. “You were alone when they found you.” You frowned, trying to recall anything — a road, a sound, a name. But your head throbbed the harder you tried. There was nothing. Just blank space.
Days passed, and you went home, that doesn’t even feel like home. You walked through your apartment, touching the furniture, tracing the edges of picture frames that held no faces. You caught your reflection in the mirror and felt the strangest ache, like someone else should’ve been there beside you. Someone who wasn’t.
Late one night, unable to sleep, you sat on your bed and whispered into the dark — not knowing why, or to whom. “Maybe it’s not about moving on,” you murmured, clutching your chest where that invisible ache lived, “but trying to remember the memories I’ve already lost.”
A tear slipped down your cheek before you even realised you were crying. You didn’t know what you were grieving — only that your heart was mourning something you couldn’t recall.
—
You sobbed, shaking your head violently. “Then why- why bring me back here? Why make me remember?” “Because you deserved to know you were loved,” Jun said, voice trembling. “Even after death. Even after forgetting. You were my heart in every lifetime, and I needed you to know that before I go.”
The candle flame flickered. His form wavered, the edges of him breaking apart like smoke. “No,” you cried, clutching his shirt — your hands passing through him. “Please, stay. I’ll remember you this time. I swear, Jun, I won’t forget”
He smiled faintly, leaning forward until his forehead touched yours. “You will. You have to. That’s how you live.” He said. You sobbed. “Then what now? What happens to us? To you” “You live,” he said gently. “You finish your book. You keep the house. You keep going.”
“As for me.. I’ll keep waiting. Like I always do.” You shook your head violently. “No. No, you can’t. You deserve to move on.” “How can I?” Jun whispered. “My heaven was you. This is my fate.. I finally have the reason to cross the afterlife for this life, Y/N.” You felt the warmth of his breath one last time as he whispered,
“Find me again, in another life, my bride” The candle went out.
Silence filled the house — that heavy, sacred kind of silence only grief can make.
You sat there long after, whispering his name into the darkness, your tears falling onto the wooden floor. When the morning light finally touched the veranda, there was no trace of him — just the faint scent of cedar and rose and the ghost of a handprint on your cheek.
And for a moment, as you looked toward the mirror inside the house, you swore you saw him smiling.
Then he was gone.
And on the bed beside you, the veil stirred gently — as if brushed by unseen hands. unheard voice.
𝐀/𝐍 ➙ and that’s a wrap!! thank you so much for reading — I hope you liked it!! we’ve still got a few more left on our 2025 kinktober prompt list, next up is jeonghan, then wonwoo. see you all soon! stay safe, healthy, and a little unhinged, loves mwaa
Summary: What is the best thing in the world? The three colored cat!
“Baba, that’s a cat.”
Anya’s tiny arms were looped tightly around Jun’s neck as he carried her from daycare toward the car. Her finger — small, chubby, and still sticky from afternoon snacks — pointed at a kitten crouched beside the rear tire, its tail flicking lazily under the warm after-school light.
“Mm, yes, that’s a cat,” Jun replied, amusement softening his voice. He slowed his steps so she could get a better look, pressing a gentle kiss to her temple. Anya leaned forward, squinting with the seriousness only four-year-olds could muster.
“Ugly color!” she declared with complete confidence.
Jun sniffed back a laugh, his shoulders shaking.
“Nooo,” he drawled dramatically, pretending to be offended. “It’s a three-colored cat. There’s no such thing as an ugly-color cat.”
Anya tilted her head — her usual thinking pose — lips pursed, eyes narrowed. Then she released a long, exaggerated sigh. “Alright. What color cat?”
“Three-colored cat,” Jun repeated, smiling as he shifted her higher on his hip.
“Oh!” Anya perked up instantly, kicking her legs in excitement. “It has orange! And black! And lots of white! Cute!”
Her joy burst out of her like sunlight — warm, bright, and impossible to contain. She wriggled in his arms as if ready to launch straight toward the kitten, and Jun tightened his hold with a soft grin, laughter slipping out before he could stop it.
“Can we bring it home, please?” she pleaded. “I’ll take care of it. Promise.” Her eyes grew round and glossy — the exact weapon she used whenever she wanted something. A tiny pout trembled at the corners of her mouth, just enough to make Jun’s heart clench in the helpless way only fathers understood.
“We need Mama’s permission for that,” he said gently, brushing a stray curl from her cheek. His tone carried that soft responsibility — the kind meant to cushion disappointment without crushing hope.
Anya froze. Her pout deepened. “But Baba…”
“That’s the rule,” he reminded her, tapping the tip of her nose. “Big decisions need Mama’s yes.”
She slumped against his shoulder with dramatic defeat, letting out a sigh far too heavy for a four-year-old.
“Mama always says no…”
Jun smiled — quiet, helpless — because she wasn’t entirely wrong. “Well,” he murmured, lowering his head to kiss her hair, “maybe she’ll say yes this time.”
Anya peeked up, hope flickering back into her eyes like a small spark relighting. “If I say ‘please’?”
“If you say please,” Jun whispered, “and… maybe if the kitty likes you back.”
As if summoned, the tricolor kitten let out a soft meow and turned its head toward them, its eyes curious and unafraid.
Anya’s mouth fell open in wonder. “Baba,” she whispered urgently, tugging at his shirt, “I think it likes me.”
She hesitated — a tiny, worried crease forming between her brows. “But what if Mama still says no?”
Jun shifted her closer, lowering his voice to something tender and steady. “I’ll find a way, baby,” he promised. “Anything for you.”
*
“No…”
You stared at the bathroom light switch like it personally betrayed you. One click. Nothing. Another click. Still darkness.
You let out a long, dramatic sigh and facepalmed. Of course. Of course he did. There was only one man in this house capable of creating chaos with the confidence of a movie villain, your husband, Jun.
First, the jar incident. Every lid tightened to the strength level of “Olympic gold medalist.” You’d nearly dislocated your shoulder trying to open the salt. And of course you had to call him over for help. Which was extra annoying because you two had just argued about the tricolor kitten Anya begged to adopt.
Second, the water spontaneously giving up on life while you were washing dishes. You’d been mid-scrubbing a plate when the faucet sputtered.
Cue you yelling, “Jun, the sink is having a breakdown.”
He “fixed” it and, very conveniently, took over dish duty with suspicious cheerfulness.
And now? The bathroom light. Sabotaged. You flicked the switch again — aggressively this time — just to make sure he heard.
Right on cue, Jun appeared in the doorway of the master bedroom like he’d been waiting backstage for his entrance.
“What’s wrong, babe?” he asked, voice all soft innocence.
You leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, giving him your best “I am onto you” stare.
“Why? What happened?” he said, mirroring your posture — leaning back on the wall, arms crossed, smile growing way too fast for someone who was supposedly concerned.
“Stop it,” you said flatly. “You know I don’t like cats anymore.”
Jun lifted his eyebrows as if you just accused him of murder.
“We’re done talking about the cat, babe,” he declared, hand on his chest like a man reciting wedding vows. “You said it was final. No cats. And I respect that.”
He said it so sweetly you almost believed him. Almost. Except for the tiny smug curl at the corner of his mouth.
You exhaled sharply and ran your fingers through your hair. “Then explain this,” you gestured wildly. “The jars. The water. And now—”
You flicked the switch again like you were summoning a ghost. “The light won’t even turn on.”
Jun walked toward you, humming thoughtfully, inspecting the light with all the seriousness of a man checking a potato.
“I’ll fix it, babe,” he said, patting your shoulder. “No need to get all worked up.”
You narrowed your eyes. “Oh, I am worked up. I’m fully worked. I’m premium worked.”
Jun bit back a laugh — badly. “Why would I sabotage the house?” he asked, as if the answer wasn’t four years old, chubby-cheeked, and currently plotting with crayons in the living room.
You crossed your arms tighter. “Because you and your daughter want a cat.”
Jun pressed his lips together. “Allegedly,” he corrected.
You threw your hands up. “Oh my God.”
He leaned closer, smiling like you just declared war. “Babe,” he whispered dramatically, “this is all a coincidence.” You stared at him. Another flick. Dark.
He stared back. “…Coincidence?” you repeated.
Jun nodded, eyes sparkling. “A very adorable coincidence.”
Jun tightened the last screw on the light fixture, stepped back with a flourish, and flicked the switch. The bathroom lit up instantly. He turned to you with both hands raised like he’d just completed a magic trick.
“Done. You may do your thing here, your majesty.”
You stared at him. Long. Hard. The kind of stare that usually came right before you chose patience over prison time.
Then you sighed. A deep, soul-drained sigh. “I don’t want to act childish,” you said slowly, “but you’re definitely doing one, Wen Junhui.”
Jun clutched his chest dramatically. “I didn’t do anything, babe…”
“Yes,” you muttered, brushing past him, “and I’m the Queen of England.”
You stepped into the shower, letting the water drown out your irritation. But the whole time, you could practically feel Jun smirking from outside — smug, confident, absolutely certain he’d win.
And annoyingly, he would.
By the time you stepped out, skin warm and hair damp, Jun was sprawled on the bed like he owned every inch of it. One arm behind his head, shirt riding up just enough to show the faint lines of his stomach — he always looked like this right after mischief, relaxed and very, very pleased with himself.
You grabbed your towel tighter. “Jun,” you called.
He hummed, eyes on you instantly.
You exhaled, defeated but strangely lighter. “Bring that cat,” you said. A pause. “Tomorrow.”
*
Anya had been talking nonstop since the moment Jun buckled her into her car seat.
The kitten — tiny, fluffy, and extremely confused — sat in the small carrier Jun had oh-so-mysteriously “already prepared,” right beside her. Every few seconds, a tiny paw poked through the bars, batting at the air.
“Mama, it likes fruit names,” Anya declared with the confidence of a CEO presenting a business proposal.
Jun tried — truly tried — to keep his eyes on the road, but his smile kept growing each time Anya babbled another name.
“Kiwi,” she repeated, leaning forward to stick her face against the carrier. “Do you like Kiwi? Blink if yes.”
The kitten blinked. Anya gasped dramatically. “Baba! It said yes!”
Jun laughed under his breath, shaking his head. “That’s not how blinking works, baby.”
“Yes it is,” she insisted, crossing her arms with a tiny huff. “Cats blink when they like you.”
You turned a little in your seat, raising a brow. “She’s not wrong,” you muttered, more to yourself than anyone else.
Jun shot you a look — that soft, ridiculously fond look — the one that appeared any time you defended his daughter’s logic.
Anya wasn’t done. “Or Banana!” she chirped, tapping the cage lightly. “Banana is yellow. This cat has orange. Orange is ALMOST yellow. So Banana!”
The kitten meowed once, confused but cooperative.
Jun let out another quiet laugh, the kind that rumbled warmly through the car. “She’s really committed,” he said, glancing at you with a grin. “Kiwi or Banana, huh?”
You rolled your eyes, but the corners of your lips betrayed you, curving up despite yourself.
“But… isn’t Kiwi Banana gonna be scared to go to the doctor?”
Anya’s voice was small but grave, the kind of seriousness only a four-year-old could summon over a tiny creature sitting in a pet carrier.
They were on the way to the vet, and the kitten — newly christened Kiwi Banana, thanks to Anya’s triumphant declaration of “Three colors, two names, one kitten!” — let out a soft mewl from inside the cage.
Jun glanced at her through the rearview mirror. “You think so, baby?”
“Yes,” she said immediately, clutching her stuffed bunny tighter. “Doctor means needles. And needles means… ouchie.”
She made a little face, scrunching her nose in sympathy toward the kitten.
You turned slightly in your seat. “Anya, the vet is a nice doctor. They help animals feel better so they can grow strong and healthy.”
Anya didn’t look convinced.
“But Baba, what if Kiwi Banana thinks we’re betraying it? We just met! What if it runs away from home and never forgives us and becomes—”
She paused dramatically.
“—a wild forest cat?”
Jun’s laugh slipped out before he could catch it. “A wild forest cat?” he echoed.
“Yes!” she said, pointing one finger into the air like she was explaining a legal clause. “Because if you feel betrayed… you go to forest.”
You pressed your lips together, holding back a laugh.
“Is that how it works?”
“Yes,” she said again, with absolute finality.
Jun shook his head with a smile. “Baby, Kiwi Banana won’t get scared. You know why?”
Anya leaned forward a little. “Why?”
“Because you’re going with it,” Jun said gently. “And Kiwi Banana already likes you.”
The kitten meowed right on cue, as if agreeing.
Anya gasped softly, eyes going wide.
“Baba… it said yes again.”
Jun shot you a look — proud, soft, slightly smug — and your heart dipped, warm, despite your earlier resistance.
You turned back to Anya. “And you can hold its paw while the doctor checks it, okay? That’ll make it feel safe.”
“Mama,” Anya said suddenly, her tone shifting into that quiet, suspicious softness children use right before exposing adult secrets.
“You seem to know a lot about cats.”
“I thought you don’t like cats,” she added, squinting at you like a tiny investigator.
You cleared your throat. “I don’t dislike cats,” you said carefully. “I just… don’t prefer them.”
Anya tilted her head. “But you said vet is nice doctor. And you held Kiwi Banana like he’s a fragile egg. And you said he needs warm towel and quiet place and also you wiped his eye—”
“Okay, okay, detective,” you cut in, holding up a hand. “I know basic things.”
Jun turned his head for a second, the movement small, almost hesitant—like he’d just said something he wasn’t sure he was supposed to.
“Mama used to have… ten cats,” he said quietly.
The words hung there, softer than before, slipping into the air the way old memories tend to resurface—uninvited, but gentle.
You didn’t respond right away.
Your gaze had drifted somewhere past the kitten, past the parking lot, past the afternoon light—somewhere Jun couldn’t follow. Not yet.
Anya, oblivious, perked up. “Ten? Mama, really?”
But Jun wasn’t looking at her anymore. He was looking at you. The way your fingers tightened slightly on the strap of your bag. The way your breath paused—just a moment.
The way your eyes stayed distant, even though your face tried to arrange itself into something casual. He’d heard the story before—briefly, vaguely. Ten cats. A busy little house. You, smiling in every memory.
You finally blinked, shaking yourself back. “That was… a long time ago,” you murmured, giving a small smile that didn’t sit the way your real smiles usually do.
Jun watched you for another second—really watched—before turning back to Anya.
“Yeah,” he said, gentle. “A long time ago.”
The tone settled over the three of you like a soft breeze—warm, but carrying something else in it. Something unspoken. But for now, he didn’t press.
For now, he just understood.
*
“We’re doing it together…”
“Don’t leave me!”
“Please…”
“Don’t—!”
You shot up with a broken gasp, air clawing its way into your lungs. Your chest heaved, fingers trembling against the sheets as the last echo of the nightmare clung to you like something alive.
Jun stirred immediately. He blinked awake, already reaching for you before he was fully conscious.
“Love?” His voice was soft, rough from sleep. “What’s wrong?”
You couldn’t answer—your breaths came short and sharp, sweat cooling along your temples. He pushed himself upright beside you, worry settling into his features the moment he saw your expression.
“Hey… hey.” Jun cupped the back of your head gently, guiding your forehead to his shoulder. “It’s okay. You’re okay. It’s just a dream.”
Your fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, as if needing proof that he was real—that he was here.
Jun wrapped an arm around you, firm and grounding, the kind of embrace that held you without trapping you.
“I’ve got you,” he whispered against your hair. “I’m right here.”
The room was dark and still, the only sound was your uneven breathing—slowly, slowly softening as his thumb traced steady circles on your arm, coaxing you back into the present.
“Is it the fire again?” Jun asked quietly, once your breathing began to steady.
You hesitated—then gave a small nod.
Jun didn’t press. He simply reached over to the nightstand, fingers closing around the glass of water he always left there for you before bed. Just in case.
“Here,” he murmured.
You took it with slightly trembling hands and brought it to your lips, sipping slowly. The cool water helped—grounding you, pulling you away from the lingering heat of the flames in your dream. Jun watched you with gentle eyes, his hand resting lightly against your back, steady and present.
When you lowered the glass, he brushed a strand of hair from your face.
“You’re safe, love.”
The dream always came the same way— a fire swallowing your childhood home, flames crawling up the walls faster than your legs could run. And your cats— all ten of them— were trapped inside.
In the dream, you always tried. You always screamed for them. You always reached for the door even when the heat blistered your skin. And just like every time, you always failed.
Only one of them had survived in real life. It had escaped the fire by a miracle— bolting out through the back window just in time. You found it the next day, shaking so hard its small body rattled against your arms.
Life after losing the house was no kinder. You moved from place to place, your one surviving cat clutched to your chest, its terrified eyes mirroring your own. The only difference was that you’d become good at pretending you weren’t scared.
“We’re doing this together,” you used to whisper to it at night.
But even together wasn’t enough. It left you, too— not by choice, but by life’s cruelty. And the wound it carved into you never really healed.
You remembered crying over the tiny grave, hands shaking as you pressed the soil down. “I should’ve given you a home.”
That guilt settled in your bones. And from then on, you weren’t the same. You distanced yourself from cats— from the memories, from the attachment, from the possibility of losing something you loved that deeply again. Any cat was too close to the past. Too close to the fire. Too close to the pain you never let yourself revisit.
You ended up on the living room couch that night, legs curled beneath a blanket, the shadows quiet around you. Sleep wouldn’t come—not after the nightmare, not with your heart still unsteady.
Jun was already fast asleep in the bedroom, worn out from the day. And you— you didn’t want to show him this side of you again. Not tonight.
A tiny meow broke the silence.
You blinked, surprised. Kiwi Banana—somehow—was already padding across the floor, wobbling a little as it hurried toward you. You hadn’t even noticed Anya’s door was open a crack.
Before you could react, the kitten hopped onto the couch and plopped onto your lap, immediately purring. Its tiny paws kneaded at the blanket as it made itself comfortable, then finally rested its head on your thigh with a soft sigh.
A small smile tugged at your lips. The ache in your chest loosened. “You’re just like her,” you whispered. Your old tricolor cat. “Same color… same personality.”
Kiwi Banana answered with a muted little meow— whether in agreement or mild complaint, you couldn’t tell. You let out a tiny chuckle anyway. The fear you’d been carrying—of loving a cat again, of remembering—faded just a little.
“Tell me she’s okay…” you murmured, hand brushing gently over its tiny back. Kiwi Banana cracked one eye open, stared at you, meowed once— and then, in true cat fashion, turned around to present its butt to you before settling down again.
You snorted softly. “Rude,” you whispered, still smiling.
You leaned slowly against the couch’s armrest, your hand resting lightly on the kitten’s side. Kiwi Banana’s breathing grew slow, steady—warm against your leg.
And before you realized it, lulled by the soft purring and the quiet comfort, your eyes drifted shut. Sleep came easier this time.
*
You woke to the soft sound of someone whispering nearby—light, excited, and terribly close to your ear.
“Mama… Mamaaa, look…”
Your eyelids fluttered open, slow and heavy. Morning sunlight was already spilling through the curtains, warm and gold against your skin. The blanket had slipped halfway off, and curled right on top of your stomach was Kiwi Banana, purring like an engine.
Then you saw Anya. She was kneeling beside the couch in her pajama shorts, hair sticking in every direction, eyes wide with pure wonder.
“Mama, you’re soooo cute…” she whispered dramatically, as if she’d stumbled upon a rare forest creature. “Sleeping with Kiwi Banana… like best friends…”
You groaned softly, rubbing your face. Kiwi Banana stretched, tiny paws pressing into your shirt before settling again. “Anya… why are you awake this early?”
Though judging from the light, it wasn’t that early—just earlier than your usual waking time.
She puffed her cheeks. “I woke up and kitty wasn’t in my room! So I followed it. And then—” she pointed at you with all the intensity of a detective revealing a culprit— “I found this.”
You glanced down at the kitten sprawled on you like a warm, furry badge.
“Mama likes Kiwi Banana now?” Anya asked, hope sparkling in her eyes.
The kitten yawned—as if answering for you.
You exhaled, resigned. “…Maybe a little.”
Anya clapped both hands over her mouth to keep from screaming. It didn’t work. “BABA!!” she shrieked towards the hallway, “MAMA LOVES KIWI BANANA!!”
From the bedroom came Jun’s sleepy, confused voice, “What—already? It’s morning…”
You covered your face again. Too late. L The whole house already knew.
Kiwi Banana didn’t stay that tiny for long. Months passed, and somehow the kitten who once fit perfectly on your stomach grew into a round, spoiled ball of fur—with a belly that jiggled when it trotted and a face that had perfected the art of guilt-tripping you into extra treats.
Jun swore it wasn’t his fault. You swore it wasn’t yours. Anya didn’t swear anything—she openly blamed both of you.
“Mama, you love Kiwi Banana too much,” she complained one afternoon as the cat waddled proudly across the living room like a royal parade float.
You scooped the chunky creature into your arms anyway. “And what’s wrong with that?”
Kiwi Banana purred, melting into your embrace with the confidence of a cat who knew it was adored.
The fear you once held—the ache of old memories, the guilt, the trauma—had softened over time, replaced by something gentler. Something healing.
Jun wrapped an arm around your shoulders from behind, resting his chin lightly on your head as he watched the cat kneading your shirt with chubby paws.
“Told you,” he murmured with a smile, “you were always a cat person.”
You shot him a look. He kissed your cheek anyway. Kiwi Banana flopped dramatically in your arms, exposing its belly in complete trust.
And for the first time in a long, long while, loving a cat didn’t hurt. It felt like coming home. The home you built now—warm, noisy, messy, full of laughter. Full of Jun, full of Anya.
And full of one very fat, very loved Kiwi Banana.
End.
Footnote:
Grief lingers, but love does, too.
Two years ago, the fire took my home… and all the little lives I loved within it. The guilt clung to me like smoke, staining everything I touched. But my tricolor Simi — my brave girl — survived long enough to show me that even in ruin, love doesn’t burn out so easily.
Fly high, my baby.
I carry you in every quiet morning, every soft memory, every warm place my heart still knows how to hold.
⚬ pairing: mob boss! junhui x detective! femreader
⚬ word count: 3.3k
⚬ warnings: mentions of guns, violence, murder, stalking, alcohol, manipulative tendencies, slightly toxic relationship
⚬ genres: angst, smut, jihyo (mother) makes an appearance
⚬ credits: to @strangergraphics for the dividers <3
⚬ playlist:
- do i wanna know by the arctic monkeys
author's note: part of my valentine's day event, lmk if you'd want to be tagged :)
There's a slight ache in your forearm by the time you put the revolver down. It is a sunny late morning out at the shooting range on the day of your birthday. And while your colleagues will huff and grunt about this being your idea of a birthday treat to them, you can see just how much fun they're also having on this rare day off away from gruesome case files and life-threatening chases.
You grab a kale smoothie from the cooler and head over to Jihyo, one of your closest friends at your team who also happens to be the last one to arrive.
"What took you so long?" you ask, handing her a baseball cap.
"Grabbing the present that your secret admirer sent to the office," she hums, opening the backdoor of her car for you to take a loot at the ridiculously sized bouquet of red roses that has a card stuck there somewhere in between. "Don't worry, I had it personally screened, there are no hidden cameras or wires or anything of that nature. Just plain old roses and a sappy little note that has a tear-smudge on the ink."
"What the fuck…"
"Seriously, how are you one of the best detectives on our team and you're getting stalked?" Jihyo scoffs, "if I were in your place, this guy…whoever he is, would be gone and erased from everywhere by now."
You roll your eyes, lugging the giant bouquet in between your arms with the intention to transfer it to your own car.
"I am not getting stalked, I'm pretty sure it's just my ex trying to win me over."
"Well that's even more of a reason to pew-pew him down." Jihyo jokes (or at least you hope that's what she's doing when she gestures shooting the flowers with her finger guns.)
"I'm not hunting down my ex," you laugh, "he's just being desperate and pathetic. Let him grieve."
"Why did you guys breakup again?"
"Oh he was embarrassing," you sigh, placing the flowers in your trunk and leaning against it without shutting it full, "he was obsessed with the idea of us adopting kittens and insisted on addressing us as mommy and daddy. And then, when I'd say no because I was just so busy at work trying to catch a fucking mob-boss who is wrecking havoc over here, he'd curl up in a throw blanket and his grandma's knit-cardigan and weep for hours into a bowl of ice-cream."
Jihyo blinks blankly at you, her eyes wide with this haze of half-surprise and half-amusement. And then, she bursts out laughing. "Where did you find him? On tumblr?"
You humor her further, "Worse. Wattpad. He'd read and write Robin fanfics."
"Like the bird?"
"No, like Robin from Batman."
"Yikes."
"I know," you huff out, "we also used to split rent 70-30 with me being the one paying the 70%…I don't even know why I dated him for all these years."
"Okay not to play the devil's advocate but you were young," Jihyo slides her fingers in the back-pockets of her denims and leans her weight over onto her left hip like she does whenever she wants to get her point through, "And I'm glad you got right onto the Wen Junhui case immediately after your breakup to distract you, unlike me."
You grimace, "yeah, I still remember how you got back with Nayeon four and a half hours after breaking up with her."
"Well if only there was a notorious mob-boss for me to catch, I wouldn't have willingly put myself back into my wife's leash."
"Except that you would have," you counter.
"Who am I kidding? Yeah I would have."
She leans down with you, and gives you that sheepish grin that you've come to associate with the mentions of Nayeon and you both burst out laughing. As trained detectives, discipline and resistance races in your veins with blood. But how strange it is that it is love that has Jihyo on her knees apologizing to her girlfriend and has you going all soft on your pestering, inconvenient ex-boyfriend.
As you both begin to head towards the golf-course instead of the shooting range when Jihyo complains about not being in the mood to be surrounded by the loud shots and smell of smoke, your conversation gets more business-like.
"Any leads on Wen Junhui?"
Your mouth sours at the mention of his name and you are grateful for your sunglasses that hide your anxious eyes. "We almost got to him last week, caught in action and what not. But there was an unprecedented change in their plans at the last minute…almost like he sensed us following him."
Jihyo nudges the golf-ball with the toe of her shoe. "Which could mean two things—he's either a psychic, or we got a leak."
You feel your shoulders tighten at the mere prospect of that happening. Your team is highly confidential when it comes to his case with only a handful people having all access to the entire blueprint you are to follow while the others just obey commands. Having a mole on the team essentially means being nothing less of a suicide-squad trapped in a maze you yourselves concocted as you wait for the hidden bombs to go off.
"That is somewhat ridiculous," you say, swinging the golf-course, "but not entirely out of the realm of possibilities. Has that ever happened at the department?"
"The intelligence is usually able to detect spies within a week of such mishaps but considering Junhui has managed to slip right out of your clutches like three whole times now, I don't know anymore."
"I mean who would be ready to risk it all over a couple million bucks like that?" you reply, "ruining your career and putting your own security in jeopardy."
"Well sometimes people do it for something more than just the money," Jihyo counters, flicking the sweat off her brow, "the thrill, ego…love of the game."
You scoff, "Well if we do have a mole, they better have a worthy reason for this because I'm not losing my promotion for not being able to catch a guy who calls himself The Shadow's Edge."
You swing one last time and the ball arcs across the green to land somewhere near the edge of a sand-trap.
Throughout the ride back, your phone doesn't stop pinging from all the messages your ex sends you. Jihyo has a time of her life reading them out to you from the passenger seat while your colleagues laugh, half-drunk, half-dazed from overeating the sugary honey-vanilla cake your coworker Mingyu had prepared for you.
"Oh he sent a teary-eyed cat sticker you guys!" She laughs, clutching her stomach and flashing your phone screen to the audience at the back.
"Seriously bro that's like his twenty-sixth text in the last one hour." Mingyu remarks, leaning forward to check out the profile picture of tree cartoon cats on top of each other—something that has been amusing him ever since he saw it.
Another ping as you roll your eyes.
"Show-stopper guys it's the six minutes long voice note!" Jihyo gleefully announces, garnering everyone's attention.
Her thumb hovers above the screen to press play but before she can, you snatch it away from her. The air within the car shifts from that of jest to confusion when you take an unfamiliar turn that leads to a different neighborhood than the one you had to drop your coworker Seungkwan in.
"Wha-"
"This is getting ridiculous," you announce, halting the car at a curb, "I'm going to confront him."
"He lives here?" Mingyu asks, ducking his head to catch a glimpse of the humble-looking exterior of the apartment building.
"Yeah in the area," you reply, unbuckling your seatbelt and then turn to Jihyo, "you take the car and drop everyone off, I'll call a cab for myself while returning."
"You sure you don't want me to come with you?" She asks.
You give her a saccharine smile, "yeah I can handle that loser. I'm pretty sure he's all cooped up in his gaming chair jacking off to my pictures or crying."
"Or both?" Seungkwan suggests and you slam the door to their face before turning around to gather the flowers from the trunk.
"Happy birthday!" You hear your friends call out before the car drives off the vicinity.
You are surprised to see Wonwoo lying idly in your ex-boyfriend's drawing room when you press the pass-code and enter his apartment.
"Didn't he fire you?" you ask, prompting him to cock his head to a side to catch a glimpse of you beyond the screen of his laptop.
"Well, after your minions pulled the little stunt at the dock last month, it seems like Jun did need my help after all."
"Need help with what? Inserting mics in the flowers he sends to my workplace thinking that you guys won't get caught?"
"Did we?"
"No," you answer, purposefully dropping your handbag over his head, "and its all because I warned you guys beforehand about the change in the screening and surveillance tech at the agency."
"And we adapted pretty quick, don't you think?" It's not Wonwoo's low uninterested voice that answers this time around, but the sharp playful one of your ex-boyfriend.
Still in that knit-cardigan, still donning the cat-printed pajamas as he cleans what looks like some part of a revolver.
His eyes do a generous sweep over your body—smirking at the swell of your chest, hungrily taking in the tanned taut skin of your abdomen visible through your crop-top before finally settling on the flowers in your hand.
"Seriously Jun?" you huff, "sending tampered flowers at the agency? What if Jihyo caught it?"
"Then she would have taken them in as evidence and spent another six months trying to trace where they came from no avail." He says, blowing a puff of air through whatever he has been polishing, "isn't that how that inefficient department of yours functions anyways?"
"Inefficient? Yes. But they're not stupid." You scold, placing the flowers over the coffee-table and pouring yourself a cup of water, "you jeopardized yourself and me with this stupid stunt."
You fish out the clean-wipes that you always keep in your denim to rub your DNA off of the glass that you just drank from.
"But how else could I have eavesdropped on you spreading lies about me to your coworkers?" Jun comes around behind you, looping his arms over your waist. His lips catch your earlobe with a gentle kiss before he pulls it between his teeth just enough for a shiver to run through your body. "70-30 rent split, huh?"
Wonwoo clears his throat from behind your intertwined bodies, "you know its no use for you to wipe your DNA off the glass if you're going to let him fuck you in the apartment…I guess you're aware that would leave more than just DNA behind."
You roll your eyes at his crassness, this is why you never liked Wonwoo to begin with and wanted him gone from Jun's team.
But when has Jun ever listened to you? Cause if he did, wouldn't you be in a normal relationship like literally everyone else?
But to your surprise, Jun's hold over you tightens as he slowly, menacingly fixes Wonwoo with a look that is enough for anyone to discern as a silent 'Shut up before I make you regret this.'
Wonwoo blinks twice before jolting up, silently closing his laptop and tucking it under his arm—understanding his cue to leave. But then he hitches and quickly grabs the bouquet that you have just put down. "I…uh, I guess you wouldn't want a mic-ed up object here while you guys…y'know? Unless you are into that and want me to—"
"Leave, Jeon." you command and with the flowers in one hand and his laptop in the other, he does.
You tremble at the warm, wet sensation when Jun licks at the skin of your neck. "So where were we…yeah, the 70-30 split?"
"I did cover your rent twice, asshole."
"Well it was because you always insisted on jumping my bones whenever you could and it made me lose out on all the shifts I could have taken." He says, spinning you around and pressing you against the wall before trapping you with his body. "If we really think about it, it's you who pushed me to this profession…because you just couldn't stop fucking me and I needed to earn somehow."
Your hands trail up over his cardigan until your fingers hook deep over his shoulders.
"This is exactly why I broke up with you." You mumble, "you're so manipulative…I guess I dodged a bullet."
"But you still choose to sleep with the gun."
And with that, his mouth crashes down on yours. Hot, open, hungry. He kisses you over and over again until your mouth limps open and when it does, he immediately seizes the opportunity to shove his tongue in and taste you real deep and real good.
"Fucking missed you," he grunts, peppering your jaw and neck with bites and kisses while you clutch onto his hair, trying to station your senses. "Delicious, aren't you?"
He pinches your nipples one moment before groping your ass the very next and your head swims with how he can be everywhere at all times all over your body. You fist at the fabric of his shirt, shoving his cardigan away while he unbuttons your denims like they have personally done him wrong. Once the fabric pools on the ground, you have barely any time to react before he's hoisting you up and throwing you on the couch.
You push yourself up on your elbows when he hovers above you, desperate to feel him again and he buries his hand in your head to support you as he makes out with you, even more ferociously than before. You moan a little in pain when he lands a particularly harsh bite on your mouth before sucking on it.
"Don't bite me you brute!" you scold, "it'll leave a bruise."
Now it would be a complete lie to say that Jun and you never indulge in wilder, hotter side of things. But such passion, you know, is only reserved for special occasions. In this case, your birthday.
Which reminds you, shouldn't you be the one in command today?
He is focused nibbling on a particularly sensitive spot right above your lacy bra when you push him until he's sprawled half up, legs spread on the couch. He helps you by taking his t-shirt off and you begin peppering little kisses, making sure to leave bruises of your own—those from your lipstick and your teeth—all over his chest.
And then, just when his grin begins to deepen at the thought that you might just trail your kisses down to where he'd love to see you, you surprise him by turning around to sit on his lap with your back facing him.
"Wanted to try something new," you announce seductively, kissing the tip of his nose as he stares at you wide eyed.
Two of your fingers slither down to take your panties off, slowly, sensually, while keeping your eyes locked at him with a silent challenge. He obeys your demand so fast that its funny as he tries balancing you on his lap while undoing his pajamas to get himself free.
You laugh regardless of the hollow feeling that continues to weigh down on your gut—he still hasn't wished you a happy birthday. In a card and through his theatrics, sure. But not in a way that would matter.
His teeth sink in the curve of your shoulder when he finally settles you down on his cock and despite his constant slew of 'Missed you's, you feel relieved that you had snatched your heart back from him ages ago.
One of your arm loops behind to clutch on his neck while the other holds onto his freakishly big palm as you begin to move in sync with him on his lap. Your eyes roll and your mouth hangs limp as he stretches you until the ache settles into a familiar pleasure. No matter how many times you fuck Junhui, you can never adjust to the feeling of him digging deep in your guts.
Slow, deliberate thrusts as his cock drags through your spent, slippery cunt make you shiver like you're left out cold and naked in a snow-storm. Exhausted whines begin leaving your lips when you realize how hard it for you to maintain a good form in this position. But, on point to your character, you do not even think about giving up or turning around to beg him to take charge. You plant your feet harder on the ground and relax your hips, trying to maintain some sanity.
He drops his head to your shoulder in a groan, sweat slicked chest sliding against your back.
"Always so fucking warm," he babbles, "always sucking me in…I thought you'd be tired of the same dick by now."
His fingers come down to stroke your nub while you ride him.
"How can I get tired of you when you play with my pussy like that?" You retort, nuzzling your nose under his jaw.
Your eyes flutter open, drinking the sight of his curls sticking to his temples, lips swollen red from all that brutal making out, chest heaving—and it involuntarily makes you clench hard.
"Fuck don't do that!" he warns at the impact, "you're gonna make me come."
"Well that's the point." you pant, doing your best to clench him harder this time around.
Your nails begin digging deep into his forearms, right by the scar he had gotten last year, and you grind harder when you taste the buildup of your release in every inch of your oversensitive body. Junhui can't help but obey your body's commands when you come. In tandem, his thrusts start to falter, getting sloppier, louder, wetter. He kisses you hard before dragging his lips over to your cheek, smudging your lipstick all over it as he goes.
You gasp when he joins you in the throes of your pleasure, pulling out and aggressively stroking his length until hot ropes of his semen land all over your lower abdomen and slick mound, coating your skin with himself.
You slink back into his body, spent and sweaty and so satisfied. You pat his cheek when he asks you if you're fine, not knowing if that question of his emerges out of a place of genuine concern or mockery as he watches you lie unguarded over himself knowing full well the edge you have been treading upon is that of knife owned by him.
"Don't you ever send a bugged device to me again Junhui," you whisper, when he begins to relax behind you, "you have no idea how easily I can bring you down and walk away from this without a scratch."
You feel him go taut under you, but he tries to play it cool—like he always did—by folding his arms behind his head, his eyes sporting a playful glaze of confidence and a 'You sure about that?' look.
"If you wanted to, you would have done that by now baby." he says, "so tell me, why haven't you thrown me behind the bars yet?"
Your gaze flicks down to the mess in his lap, the pool of sticky slick, and back to his eyes. "Do you wanna know?"
"Do I wanna know?" he repeats annoyingly, before recapturing your lips and letting his fingers travel down back to your heat as your thighs part on their own like they always do.
Summary: As the saying goes, "History repeats itself". Eons after the Second Titan War, the world is left in a similar state of despair. Good prevails, but so does the imbalance and injustice. Now standing on opposite sides, the Gods and Demigods don't think that the damage done by The Aegean War can ever truly be repaired. When yet another prophecy pushes you to fight for your friends, you must decide for yourself: Are you worth fighting for too?
Pairing : Wen Junhui x Fem!Reader
AU : Percy Jackson and the Olympians AU
Word Count : 6,712 (part one)
Warnings : Panic attacks, survivor's guilt and post war depression. Percy Jackson AU aged up! Please every character is over 19 years old. Olympus gods being fucked up as usual. Reader is going through it. Sweetheart Junnie. Lots and lots of yearning. Fighting as a coping mechanism. Appearance of other svt members. ANGST in all caps. Some fluff maybe. Multiple moments of "just get together already" and "they've been through so much"
Author's Note : This fic has been written as part of the blockbusters collab hosted by the lovely izzy @jakedustry, rae @nerdycheol and luna @belovedgyu. Thank you for such an amazing opportunity guys<33
This was a really fun experience and I would like to thank all my cuties @mellowgyu, @choco-scoups, @chogiwaw, @cherrymayz, @livmarauder, @gentleisa, @luvrung, @hopecutie, @pomegranate-teardrop, @paradiseonthemoon, @onionhassayyo, @cxffecoupx for such a fun time! congratulations to all of you for completing your fics and im so excited for people to get to know you guys through your amazing works
That being said, this is not beta-read!! so forgive me if there are any mistakes, I was running on pure vibes lol
playlist for this fic is gemini <33
credits to @im4yeons for the pretty divider!
Under the moonlight —
Come, save me now
It was that time of the night when the sky was pitch black — save for the full moon and the stars shining so bright, a sight almost impossible in the city. Jun winced as he stepped over a leaf, making a crunching sound. The sound of the ocean could be heard faintly from where he was. He found this path accidentally, when he had wandered far into the forest away from the camp. It was late at night then, just like now — something he found solace in.
The path led to a rocky shore, violent waves crashing with the jagged edges. Jun slowly stepped in the sand, taking a deep breath of the salty air as the wind blew around him, pushing his hair back. His shoulders dropped as a slight smile made its way onto his face. He looked around, slowly trudging towards a stone to sit on. The tide was on the calmer side tonight — with lesser, calmer waves crashing on the rocks.
The moonlight reflected off the water, making the place seem almost ethereal. Leaning back, Jun closed his eyes, letting the sound of the ocean wash out whatever worries he had. He opened his eyes after a while and looked up at the sky above him. Full of stars and constellations that he grew up watching. He could see the constellation Draco, its dragon-like tail making it identifiable among the others. Constellation Lyra caught his eye next, marking its harp shape.
Going through the stars, he noted as many constellations as he could, recollecting the stories related to them. He smiled ruefully as he spotted Hercules. That was a story Jun thought about quite often these days. Immensely powerful yet exploited by the gods, being punished for something he didn't even have control over. Jun could think of a few people who came under that category.
A scene flashed quickly in his mind. Bodies everywhere. Explosions. The scent of smoke. Disappointed gods. Demigods kneeling on the floors of Olympus. He blinked it away, refocusing on the stars as he used the sound of the waves to ground him. He took a deep breath, sitting up straight and looking at the ocean.
It was dark and inviting — the unknown somehow calming him rather than scaring him away. He got down from the rock carefully, deciding to return to his cabin to finally sleep. If his calculations were correct, it was about an hour before the sunrise. Even though he hated mornings these days, he also knew that he would be most energised then due to his lineage.
Taking a step towards the path he came from, he stopped when he felt something hard under his shoes. It was a stone pierced through at one edge — a hag stone. Rare. Protective, if the stories were true. Jun observed it under the moonlight before pocketing it and resuming his journey towards the cabins.
Reaching cabin eleven, he quietly closed the door behind him, careful not to wake any of his siblings. Taking the stone out, he felt it once again before placing it by his bedside along with the other shells he had collected from the very same shore. He lowered himself on his bed, pulling the blanket up and slowly drifting off to sleep, hoping that tonight, he won't be plagued by nightmares.
The grass was soft as you walked on it, little bushes brushing past your knees as you passed them — covered with flowers of many different colours. The breeze was cool, especially for a summer month. Spotting a rivulet, you stepped closer and saw little fishes swimming in it. You bent down and touched the water, feeling the cold liquid coat your hand. The fishes circled around your wrist, lightly tapping it and then quickly backing away.
The wind whistled, swaying the trees along with it. You look around with a smile, glancing up at the late afternoon sky. There were very few clouds in sight. This seemed like a nice spot to take a nap. Dipping your feet in the water, you leaned back on your elbows, sighing contently. Your eyes closed shut as you drifted to sleep, the last sight being that of a cloud in the sky which seemed bigger than before.
You felt something wet drop on your skin as you woke up. In the time you had been asleep, the clouds grew bigger and darker, almost covering the entire sky now. Blinking the sleep out of your eyes, you felt something tug at your ankle. Glancing down, you see the water circling around your foot before you felt another pull. Then another. Trying to pull away, you watched with growing horror as the water reached up to your knees, continuing to pull you in.
Looking in front of you, you realised that what was once a rivulet was now growing in size by the second. And it was trying to drag you inside it. Glancing around helplessly, you realised the grass and the trees were gone. There was nothing left but sand. The water had now reached your thighs before you shouted for help. There was no sound other than that of the ocean. You were truly as alone as it looked like.
Your body was getting colder and colder as the water reached upto your chest. You began thrashing, trying to fight back as much as you could but to no avail. The water had reached upto your chin before you stopped moving, seemingly having accepted your fate. You closed your eyes as your ears got flooded and you were engulfed by the waves pulling you deep into the ocean. "You can never escape the sea," a voice echoed. And that was the last thing you heard before your world went dark.
You woke with a jolt, sitting up straight and taking in huge gulps of air. It was just a dream, you think trying to calm yourself down. The only sound to be heard was your heavy breathing and the sound of the clock.
Tick
Tock
Tick
Tock
You get down from your bed, feeling the cold wood beneath your feet ground you slightly. The air was cold, you observe with a shiver, as you go to close your window. You take in the scene in front of you. Large trees at the outskirts of the camp, beyond which it was sea.
Moonlight reflecting off the surface of the water, making it look alluring and inviting. Something inside you shifted at the sight, something primal, ancient almost, reminding you of how long you had gone without the sea. You shut the window tightly, going back to bed hoping you could sleep without any trouble.
You were plagued with dreams of the waves echoing around you.
The early morning sun grazed Jun's face as he looked over at the demigods sword-fighting. Just from the technique, very sharp and clean, it was evident that they were Ares' kids. He was seated on the stairs of the arena having come here almost an hour prior to watch the sunrise. Yawning as he rubbed his eyes, he glanced around and noticed that there were other demigods present as well.
He could spot Chris, clad in his fighting gear, leaning over to whisper something in Lexie's ear. Hearing footsteps, he glanced up to see Mike jogging down the stairs and waving at him. Jun smiled and watched him leave before turning towards the fight. It seemed like the previous match was done and they had found a new opponent to challenge.
Ready to zone out again, Jun froze when he caught a movement from the corner of his eyes. He turns sharply towards the source, hand already on his knife incase it was needed. Just a few leaves rustling. He relaxes, a bit sheepish now as he looked around to check if anyone else had noticed that.
He sees you on the opposite side of the arena, eyebrows furrowed as you tried to make sense of whatever you were reading. You seemed to have trouble, growing increasingly frustrated as the seconds passed. You had a higher degree of dyslexia when compared to an average demigod, something which you hated more than anything — Jun would know, as he was the one who read books out loud for you whenver you asked.
He observed you for a while. Your wavy hair seemed to catch the sunlight everytime you ran a hand through it, an age-old habit of yours. Jun sighed, turning his attention elsewhere. What was the point if you didn't even look at him these days?
He couldn't blame you though, everyone had changed after the war. Some more than the others. He just wishes you wouldn't go out of the way to avoid him everytime you caught sight of him. Honestly, it didn't even seem like the war was over. Everyone was always on edge, as if waiting for the next attack.
Hearing a ruckus, he snapped out of his thoughts as he looked towards for the source. Standing there at the centre was a guy, blonde haired, donning a full armour for the sword fight. Ahh, the infamous Soonyoung. Or maybe Hoshi, as he liked to be called. If Jun had seen you retreating inwards and away from everyone, he could say Hoshi did the same.
The only difference was, you seemed to be spending more time in your cabin and Hoshi seemed to spend more time in figting arenas and grounds. Any news Jun had heard of him recently was always followed by the fact that he had wonded someone with an unnecessarily nasty punch. Which seemed to be his exact intentions again as he lunged at his opponent with a wicked grin.
A loud slam echoed around the arena as the two moved their swords quickly with precise footwork. It was a surprise to see that the other demigod was keeping up with Hoshi for as long as he had. Hoshi was a beast when it came to fighting, his strength and strategies forged by relentless training and discipline.
The clanking of the swords continued for a while longer, both of them maneuvering smartly around each other and looking for any weak points to hit in the opponent. Seemingly having found one, Hoshi quickly manages to push his opponent on the ground and hover over him with his sword in hand above his neck. The demigod beneath him huffed, out of breath and frustrated as he surrendered begrudgingly. Hoshi nods his head, satisfied before he turns around and leaves the arena as quickly as he came in.
You shove your hands deeper into your pockets, shivering slightly as you make your way towards the Dining Pavilion. It was early December, with the first snow of the year having occured just a few days ago, painting the camp white. You follow the footsteps in the snow, left by the other demigods, already looking forward to the warmth of the Pavilion.
You sigh in relief, rubbing your hands when you finally get inside and feel the heat spread through your body. You glance around, setting your scarf down at your table which was as empty as ever. The Ares table was also surprisingly empty, but given that it was quite early in the evening, you figured they were just sparring for sometime before supper. Soonyoung did tell you that they had fixed training sessions and this was one of the slots.
Your eyes then instinctually go to the Apollo's table and you feel a slight pain in your chest — maybe grief — as you take in the number of demigods present. They were all talking, looking happier than ever, but you could see it in the way Connor's smile dropped whenever he turned to his left, only to realise that his twin brother was no longer there with him. Or in the way Mia thought nobody noticed how often she zoned out, almost seeming like she was fighting prophecies in her mind.
If only you had stopped them from fighting in the water
You drag your eyes away from them with a shaky sigh. Everytime you closed your eyes, you could see the day play out in your mind, moment by moment without any mercy. A war inside the ocean, a tsunami washing out everyone who dared to cross it. You let out a huff, trying to fight against the negative emotions taking over your body as you cross your arms.
Since you were earlier than the expected dinner time, you decide to take a seat as you watch the campfire suddenly getting lowly lit, probably Goddess Hestia's doing. You liked Hestia, Jun had told you that she helped him a lot on his quest before the war. She also seemed like one of the only Gods who did not actively look for ways to trouble the demigods, so that was a plus.
Your eyes go towards the Apollo table again as you see Chiron approaching it. He's probably discussing about the Capture the Flag event being held tomorrow. Your eyes involuntarily go to Jun, seeing him talk to Chiron. The first thing you notice about him is his smile, always the smile — gentle and shy.
Infact, you remember the first time you had met him back when you both were ten, you were constantly trying to get him to laugh at your jokes, and he always did, no matter how lame or stupid they were. The next thing you notice are the dark circles under his eyes.
Was he having problems with sleeping again?
He always stayed up whenever the prophecies got too loud. He was one of those, along with Mia, who had the power of seeing the future more vividly than the rest of their siblings. Hence he was also very sensitive to dreams and nightmares, often times choosing not to sleep to avoid them.
You got to know of that fact just a couple of years ago and had tried everything to get him to sleep well, hanging out in the infirmary when his cabin became suffocating for him at night. You had even tried singing to him, something you were terrible at and you still remember the fond look he had in his eyes as he tried not to laugh. That was the night when everything had felt immensely real, your sleepy mind and traitorous heart giving you hope that maybe, just maybe even he felt the same about you.
Well, that was over a year ago, just before the war and you doubt he even thinks about you now after you stopped talking to him and basically threw your friendship away. There was also the fact that most of his siblings died under your leadership in the war. You were sure he hated you, you wouldn't blame him if he did.
Just as you were about to look away from him, he catches your eyes and looks startled for a moment before his face settles into something deeper. The world seemed to still, the rush of the incoming campers almost reducing to a lull as your eyes focus on his completely.
He always had this effect on you and you hated how just one look from him was enough to melt you, especially now that you were sure he must hate you. His lips curl slightly at the edges as he seemed almost relieved, which you didn't know what for. You feel his gaze go all over your face, checking upon you, just like it did after the war ended and you had come back to the medical site.
You still remember the conversation that had gone down right after that, with you refusing to speak to anyone but him just to break the news of his siblings. His shocked face, almost ghostly white still haunts you to this day. You look away, your heart heavy as you repeat all the reasons in your head, for the umpteenth time, as to why you should stay away from him.
He deserves better people in his life than a murderer
All you've caused right from the beginning is pain to everyone around you
Why would he be any different?
You dig your fingers into your sleeves, staring hard at the fire as you wait for your breath to calm down. The fire seemed to grow bigger as more and more campers piled into the Pavilion. You will your legs to still as you unclench your palms and finally feel your breath return to normal.
You had struggled a lot with panic attacks at the start after the war, but now you were getting better at handling them without having to bother others. You had a technique of counting till ten and humming a lullaby right after, which calmed you down significantly these days. You decide to distract yourself by thinking about tomorrow's Capture the Flag and going over all the strategies you had learnt over the years.
You look up, startled from your thoughts as you see Soonyoung sit next to you on the table. You hadn't even seen him approach. Your eyes widen as you take in his state. He was sporting a huge bandaid on his chin and a cut near his eyebrow. "What happened to you?" you ask as you look for any other place where he might be hurt. You looked down at his hands in his lap as he clenched his fist. His knuckles were bruised as well.
"Oh these are nothing, just some fight that went messy," he replied casually, avoiding eye contact. You raise an eyebrow, "A sword fight went so messy that you bruised your knuckles?" you ask already sniffing out his lie. He hesitates before saying, "This wasn't a sword fight, I was engaged in physical combat and the mortals sure know how to throw a nasty punch."
"Gods Soonyoung, the mortals?! I thought you had just gotten into a brawl with one of your siblings. Why were you even messing around with the mortals?" you exclaim. "I was just curious as to how they fight and snuck into one of their events. Their techniques are different than ours and I sure have a lot to learn from them. Maybe I should go back soon and ask them to teach me their ways", he ponders.
"Hoshi, you cannot go to the mortal world. What if some monster comes after you? Do you really want to fight more, especially without anyone helping you?" you knew you had offended him when you saw the expression on his face. You wince slightly as he replies, "You know I can very well handle a few monsters on my own. Need I remind you who lead the war with you? As for the mortal world and the fighting, I know you're worried that I'm fighting too much these days but trust me, this is what Ares' kids do. We study wars and different combat techniques. I like learning them and I'm having fun".
Knowing there was no changing his mind, you let out a sigh as you say, "You're right, I'm sorry. I wasn't trying to reprimand you, just be careful." He gives you a side-hug as he replies cheekily, "It's fine, I know you're worried but I've managed to win a fight with you, I'm sure I can handle anyone at this point".
That gets a smile out of you as you ask, "Who patched you up though? Is someone else handling the infirmary now because that does not look like Jun's work". He clears his throat, avoiding your eyes again as he replies, "Just some mortals, I didn't go to the infirmary." You frown at him, about to question him more when Chiron rises from his seat and announces the commencement of dinner, "Everyone will gather together and go cabin by cabin to the campfire to offer a portion of their food to the gods."
You miss the sigh of relief Soonyoung lets out as you both rise up from your table and fill your plates with food as you wait for your turn. "Now the cabin three, Poseidon's cabin, can go burn their food in the fire." Chiron says, eyeing Soonyoung as you both step closer to the campfire. You let out a chuckle as you see Soonyoung huff. While not against the rules, it was still unusual for campers to sit at the tables of different cabins during meals.
Throwing a portion of your food into the fire, you suppress your laughter as you see Soonyoung throwing only a carrot into the fire. "Geez Soonie, leave some for yourself too. The gods don't need that much food." you tease as he replies, "To hell with the Gods." You pause as you look up at the sky which immediately rumbles with thunder making you both snicker. Zeus was so predictable. You both take a seat at your table, digging into the food as you discuss about the Capture the Flag. Soonyoung starts explaining the strategy that he thought of as you interrupt him, "Wait I'm with the Ares cabin this time?"
"Yes, unless you want to team up with the Apollo's cabin as usual then feel free to switch. I'm sure Jun would love to have you on his team again." he says looking up from his plate, already knowing what your reply would be. "You're a menace. Fine, I'll play on your team. Also, we both know Jun doesn't like Capture the Flag so I doubt he'd want to participate let alone have me on his team." you reply as you glance at Jun before looking away, not wanting to make eye contact with him again. Soonyoung hums looking straight at you as he replies , "That's true but I'm sure he would be enthusiastic to play if it meant that you would stop avoiding him."
"I'm not avoiding him, it's just…complicated", you say looking down at your plate as you pick at the vegetables. "I know", you hear Soonyoung say gently before he, thankfully, changes the topic to the post-dinner campfire.
You both discuss how to sneak away into your respective cabins after just a few songs and Soonyoung's happy that you're a bit more cheerful than before. He saw how shaken up you were when he had just joined you at the table earlier in the night, you were probably going through another panic episode. He hated how you didn't ask for help and wanted to manage everything on your own.
Soonyoung knew you just needed some time before you started talking to Jun again and unlike what you believed he was sure Jun didn't hate you. Quite the opposite actually. Anyone with eyes could see that Jun was smitten with you even after months of silence from your end. Soonyoung just hoped the two of you would figure it out eventually, he missed his friends together even though he was third-wheeling most of the time.
Now, onto the capture the flag game, he couldn't wait to implement the game plan he had learnt from the mortals. He grins excitedly as he goes into the full details of his strategy with you, knowing that you needed a distraction and that you'll have a lot of fun.
You take a deep breath, fiddling with your helmet as you wait for the game to start. Looking over to your right, you spot Soonyoung giving instructions to few of your teammates. Your team consisted of the Ares-Poseidon-Hermes-Hephaestus cabins and Hoshi had gone all out this time with the strategy. The plan was that both of you would be trying to capture the flag of the opposite team while the others either guarded your flag or laid out obstacles for the other team.
You would be running directly towards the other team's flag while Soonyoung would take a sneakier path that he was sure most of the campers didn't know about. You double-checked that it wasn't very dangerous because you were sure if given the chance, he would go into the labyrinth as well.
Your path was much simpler, you just had to run through your side of the forest, cross the river and then cross any of the obstacles laid out by the other team. You had your bracelet in your pocket, one that was gifted by Jun ages ago, which would transform into a sword when clicked.
Each of the participating cabins had contributed atleast one magical item for today's game. Jake from Hephaestus cabin had this idea of forging hot metal which would increase the temperature within seconds once activated, disabling the opponents from the fight.
To nobody's surprise, Soonyoung had liked this idea very much and encouraged the team to use them whenever they were stuck in a fight. Strapping a few of these balls inside your belt, you looked up when Soonyoung approached you.
"Are you sure you're ready to swim across the river? I know you have been staying away from the water for a while", he says with a frown, looking worried. Well, you had thought of this multiple times after Soonyoung had explained his strategy. Though slightly apprehensive, you knew you had to face your fear and get over with it. You had avoided your water powers for almost a year now and it was starting to take a toll on you, being that far away from the water.
"I'm sure Soonie", you reply with a smile, assuring him. He nods at you as he moves to the others, ordering everyone to get to their positions quickly. You hear Chiron blow the horn, signalling the start of the game as you exchange your signature fist-bump with Soonyoung before running off into the forest.
The woods were pitch-black, and you stand still for a few seconds waiting for your eyes to adjust to the darkness. Since you had grown up training in the woods, the path to the river was almost muscle memory. This part of the forest had the least number of monsters so you knew you had to minimise the time spent in this patch.
You run quickly, leaves crunching beneath you as the wind pushes your hair back. You reach the river in record time, taking a deep breath in as you try to keep your nerves at bay. You feel the memories of the war threatening to take over your mind before you block them and jump into the water.
The moment you touched the surface of the river, it felt like a thousand needles had penetrated into your skin. You felt the water seep through your clothes as you allowed yourself to be dragged into the river. You breathed out calmly and felt the bubbles rise up towards the surface.
You hoped the water could still recognise you. Soon enough, you could feel a bubble form around you, breathing becoming a lot easier. Your clothes started drying as the bubble took you to the surface of the river. With little to no difficulty, you manage to swim to the shore, feeling energised by being in the water.
Being away from the ocean for so long had definitely taken a toll on you. Your immunity and stamina had reduced significantly, something Soonyoung had pointed out, worried if you would be able to do this for the game. It was the doubt he had that spurred you into action, making sure that you would be the one to capture the flag before him. That was how it was with Soonyoung. If there was anyone who could push you to your limits so that you improve, it would be him.
Getting out of the river, you quickly double-check for all your weapons before you start running towards the hill which you were sure had the flag of the opponent team. You come across a huge chunk of leaves, a poorly laid trap by the Apollo team. You step aside swiftly, continuing your journey. At the foot of the hill, you hear the rustling of a few branches which makes you pause.
You take out your bracelet, which immediately morphs into a sword, as you brace yourself for an attack. You see Connor jump down the tree and step in front of you, followed by many others from the opponent team. You tap your foot, a bit unsure if you could take on so many demigods in a fight. It had been quite a long time since you had been in a sword fight and the clock was ticking. Taking a deep breath, you reach for the heat bomb fastened to your belt before dropping it.
You see their faces morph into panic and then confusion as they all gather around the ball, bending down to look at it. Had they not learnt anything during training? You count till three before watching the smoke start to rise from the bomb.
You slip away with a slight smirk as they start shrieking at the rapidly rising temperature. Though lasting only for a couple of minutes, the heat bomb did have rapid affects. Everyone would have to vacate the area within a minute if they didn't want to be severely burnt by the heat. Jake really outdid himself this time.
Keeping the time in mind, you run as fast as you can up the hill only stopping once you're sure you got a safe distance away from the bomb. You wait for a minute to catch your breathe before starting to run up the hill once again. You really wanted to get to the flag before Soonyoung. Reaching the top, you slow down to a tip-toe, not wanting to alert the demigods guarding the flag.
Peeking your head out of the woods, you look around trying to locate the flag. This was a barren patch of the hill, with little to no grass growing on it. Slowly taking a step forward, you keep your sword ready just incase it was needed. Seeing the flag at the edge of the hill, you smile triumphantly before you notice the person beside it.
Oh.
Even though he had his back turned towards you, you could still recognise him anywhere. You take slow steps towards the flag, hoping they would not notice. You'd rather not fight with Jun today. You stop in your step as Mia looks up from her seat beside the flag and notices you. Well, there goes your plan of not fighting.
She whispers something to Jun and you stay rooted at your spot as he turns towards you. Something which you didn't want to decipher crosses through his eyes as he takes out his sword and steps towards you.
"Look, I don't want to fight. Can you just give me the flag? I'll get out of your hair after that. I just really need to beat Soonyoung", you say as you look into his eyes. You could feel yourself getting pulled into them before you shake your head slightly and look away. It was always those damned eyes. Jun suppresses a smile, deciding to tease you slightly as he replies, "Tell me why you've been avoiding me for so long first and maybe then I'll give you the flag. Otherwise you'll just have to win it from me."
Your breath stutters as you take in his words, your gaze jumping around all over his face. He had grown his hair slightly and a few strands were falling into his eyes. You clenched your hand, fighting the urge to brush them back. This was not the time to be having these thoughts about Jun. You smile, deciding to go along with his teasing as you reply, "Game on then, Mia you're the referee for this match."
Mia raised her eyebrows as she nodded. She didn't want to witness a match between the two of you. There were already enough moments like these throughout the year, but if this was what it might take to get you both to finally talk to each other, then she would be all for it. She couldn't stand Jun moping around for another day.
You both unclasp your swords and stand in front of each other. Though Jun preferred Archery more than sword fighting, he was pretty good at using a sword as well. He had grown up observing Soonyoung and you training, and he had picked up on a few tricks himself.
Stepping forward, he waits for you to deliver the first blow. He had no plans of playing the offensive today. Quite frankly, the only reason he suggested this match was so that he could spend some time with you where you didn't act as if he never existed.
You take a swipe at his side, watching him block your sword and pushing it away slightly, making you frown. Why wasn't he attacking you today? You go at him with even more force but watch him do the same thing again. "Why are you not putting your full effort today Jun?" you ask, your frown deepening. "What do you mean, this is my best", he replied, casually stepping away from one of your attacks.
You scrunch your eyebrows, before deciding to play a move which would force him to attack you. "Look, you really aren't doing your best! You could've easily defeated me right here. Why are you going easy on me?!" you exclaim after seeing him twist his wrist and disarm you for a second, before kicking your sword back towards you. He just smiles slightly, deepening your frown. Gods, he was so annoying.
Remembering that you still had a match to win, you come to the conclusion that his strategy might just be to distract you from bringing their flag to your team. Deciding to finish the fight, you fling your leg around his, his sword rattling somewhere away as you point yours to his neck.
You both huff, taking deep breaths of air as Jun starts to smile. "You're still as competitve as ever, glad to see that hasn't changed", he says, looking up at you, making you roll your eyes as you pull your sword away from him.
You stretch your neck as you pick up the flag, looking at Mia who simply raises her hands in surrender. You stop near Jun, who was still laying on the ground as you say, "And you've gone soft, Junnie." Looking at the smile he gives you, you can't help but break out into a grin of your own before schooling your expression. Stepping away from him, you nod at both of them before breaking into a run down the hill. You still had a match to win.
The way back to your team wasn't very difficult. You just had to set off the heat bomb once, though this time they were faster in running away than before. The swim across the river was also easier than before, which was something that made you feel more energised than ever.
Reaching your team site, you see Soonyoung tapping his foot on the ground with his arms crossed. He breaks out into a smile as you run towards him while removing your helmet and say, "You didn't even stand a chance Soonie, I got there before you."
He takes the flag out of your hands with a chuckle as he ruffles your hair. "You are correct about that, the climb up the cliff was way too difficult", he says with a groan as he stretches. "I told you it was reckless and difficult but when do you ever listen to me", you scold him as you cross your arms. He just laughs at you fondly before you ask, "Did the other team even manage to capture our flag?"
"No, our defense was really strong. They spent most of the game in a sword fight and at last they gave up", Soonyoung replied with a shrug as he leads you to the rest of the team. The team breaks out into cheers as they see the flag in Hoshi's hands. This was the first Capture the Flag you had participated in after the war and you were glad you had managed to win for the team.
You see the opponent team approach as you all gather towards the fountain waiting for Chiron to announce your team as the winner. You spot Jun, only to find him already looking at you with a smile. You frown at him in return. Weird, didn't he hate you? You hear Soonyoung stifle a chuckle making you look at him with the same frown still present on your face.
"What's so funny?" you ask him. "Nothing, just the fact the you're so oblivious it's actually hurting me", he replies with a shrug, still grinning. Was he talking about Jun? Just as you're about to question him further, you see Chiron emerge, everyone hushing each other to listen to the winning announcement.
Chiron clears his throat, pushing his glasses up as he says, "The winner of this week's Capture the Flag competition is Team 1 which was led by Soonyoung. They especially had very good defense strategy. Give them a round of applause." You grin as you clap with the rest of the demigods, happy about how the day had turned out.
Everyone started dispersing when Connor suddenly shouts, "Oh, what is that?". You turn to look at where he was pointing and see the Oracle of Delphi slowly approaching the crowd. Shriveled-looking with long black hair clung to her skull, she wore a headband and a tie-dyed green dress. Her beaded necklaces moved with each step she took.
You take a step back, trying to blend into the crowd hoping that she wouldn't approach you regarding the prophecy. Remembering that the Oracle's presence always affected Mia and Jun more, your turn to look at them. You see Jun clutching his head, before his gaze suddenly snapped to you.
His worried look only scared you more as you took another step back, watching the crowd split to make way for her. She, slow as ever, continues to walk towards where you were just moments ago and stops in front of Soonyoung. You huff out a breath, relieved, immediately feeling guilty later for such a reaction.
A green mist pours out of her mouth, surrounding each one of the demigods as her hissing starts echoing inside your head.
You shall go east, along with the daughter of sea
A journey, embark on it or destruction you shall see
Venturing into the ever-changing maze
You shall realize the fate in the haze
Face the undefeated once again
Conquer it and power you shall regain
The Oracle of Delphi collapses onto the rock beside Soonyoung, her eyes turning black, probably never to move again for many centuries to come. You make your way through the crowd, reaching Soonyoung and placing a hand on his shoulder. You feel the eyes of rest of the campers on the two of you as Chiron ushers all the cabin heads to the Big House.
Turning back, you look at Jun standing with his lips pursed and arms crossed. He meets your eyes almost immediately and you could see the waves of worry in them even from such a distance. The quest mentioned a Daughter of the Sea. Unless Poseidon had a secret daughter you never knew of, it was you that was supposed to go on this quest with Soonyoung.
You look back at Hoshi worriedly and he reaches up to squeeze your hand on his shoulder slightly before letting go as you both walk towards The Big House together. Looking back, you see all of the other cabin heads following you, Jun included, with his head down and fist clenched deep into his pocket.
You face the door again, the voices of Mr.D and Chiron already audible. This was the first quest assigned to a demigod after the war, nobody daring to seek the Oracle till now. Taking a deep breath, you raise your hand to knock on the door before hearing a faint "Come in". You look at Soonyoung as he opens the door for the both of you to step in.
It wasn’t always that life gave one the chance to hit reset, but now that Jun had gotten it, he didn’t have long before time ran out - 10 days to valentine's day which meant 10 chances to make his amnesiac girlfriend remember him again. But it wasn’t going to be a cakewalk - after all, how could one be reminded of the past if they were only pretending to forget?
Pairing - Wen Junhui x afab! Reader
Word Count- 29k
Genre - Heavy angst, romance, hurt comfort, mild humor and as usual, yes, smut - This piece is lowkey inspired by the Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind!
Warnings - Car accident, mentions of blood, memory loss, hospital setting
A/n - Hello my loves! This is my bit for the Lonely Hearts Cafe Collab hosted by the wonderful @camandemstudios, my first ever collab! Please do also check out the stories by all the other writers - everyone has been working super hard on this! I hope you enjoy this piece and leave your thoughtsss :)
To be added to the reverse tropes taglist, please comment under this post :)
Smut warnings - This is only the first half (12k) of the story and there is no smut in it yet. Warnings will be added for the second half!
The End: 27th December 2024
"Careful!"
You quickly swerved to the side of the road, the car screeching to a stop as the honking truck zoomed past you.
Fuck. Gripping the steering wheel tight, you let out a sigh of relief, your wandering thoughts returning to the present. That was close.
The man beside you mumbled something under his breath as he unbuckled his seatbelt before alighting the car and opened your door, wordlessly asking you to get out.
You complied, allowing him to take over your role as the driver and quietly slid in the passenger seat.
Adjusting the mirror he glanced up and down the snow clad road before driving off into the darkness. Again, without saying a word.
That's how things had been between the two of you for a while now. Silent.
Some might say that after nearly 10 years of being together, the two of you didn't need words to communicate anymore, you just understood each other so well. But only you knew the reality - there was nothing left to say. Everything was at the edge of falling apart.
You glanced down at your hands, fingers fidgeting. Yes it was cold but it was the emptiness that bothered you.
Your boyfriend shot you a look before his hand hovered over the controls of the car.
"Are you feeling cold?"
See, he didn't understand. He never seemed to understand. And you were tired of explaining but a tiny voice in your head said to try just once more.
"My mum was asking why there's no ring yet?" Caressing the fingers of your left hand, you looked up, far off at the skies where the morning sun still hadn't made its way up.
“And what did you say?”
You turned to him, not hiding the incredulous expression donning your face, “What am I supposed to say Jun?” He looked straight ahead, eyes more focused on the road than required. “How does one answer a question like this?”
His Adam's apple bobbed with his gulp. “That....we’re not ready?”
“And looking at us, who will buy that?”
Jun kept quiet again, perhaps because he knew you were right.
The two of you had been together for the majority of your lives which meant your families, friends, colleagues all were a consistent witness of your relationship. Even over the last week, when you were spending Christmas with your family at the ski cabin, your sister wouldn’t stop talking about how you two were perfect for one another. She didn’t know that behind closed doors, in the privacy of your room, the two of you slept with your backs facing each other.
Jun sighed, noticing you were getting lost in your thoughts again. “Why do we have to justify ourselves to anyone anyways Y/n? This is our life-”
“You’re right, there’s no need to justify anything to anyone. But you can tell me why, right?” You half turned towards him, leaning against the car door. “You and I can talk about why we’re nearing our thirties and still haven’t made any decision about getting married?”
“Jesus, twenty five is not considered thirties Y/n." He rolled his eyes exasperated. "Besides, what does age have to do with marriage? Getting married should be something that we decide because we want to spend our lives with each other.”
You blinked at him. “Then do you not want to spend your life with-”
“I did not say that.” He glanced at you before quickly looking back at the road. “Of course, I do. Baby, you and I live together, we do everything together, we are as good as married-”
“So then a wedding would just be a formality right-”
“No, it would be a show!” You flinched a little as he raised his voice, annoyed. “It would be to show the world something, to prove to others that we are committed and will last through it all, as though signing a few documents is a guarantee of that.”
“Marriage isn’t just about that Jun. Do you have any idea how many things will become easier - buying a house, getting loans, so many logistics-”
He scoffed, shaking his head slowly. “That’s what marriage is to you? A practical, logical, legal binding?”
Biting your lower lip you let out a deep breath. “If you think it should mean much more or that it should be made purely on emotions then what’s stopping you? Or do you not love me anymore-”
“Why would you say that?” He groaned, like he was tired of this conversation. “I do love you, more than anything. Which is why I want you to be able to focus on yourself without taking the burden of a marriage. I want you to fulfill all the dreams you have for your career, for your professional growth-”
“Jun, I can do all of that while being married too-”
“Marriage changes people! It changes priorities, it changes expectations-”
“So that’s what you’re afraid of? Expectations? Because I expect you to be a bit more responsible? To get your act together-”
“It won’t stop at that will it?” He sighed. “This is all our life is going to be - First it’ll be about dividing household chores, who’ll do dishes, who’ll take out the trash. Next it’ll be about finding the perfect house and having children-”
“We’ve talked about this and you said you didn’t have a problem with having children Jun.” You snapped at him, triggered at his words. “I’m not getting any younger here-”
“And I’ve not grown up!” He slammed the wheel with his hand. “I do want to have kids someday but not now, not any time soon. I… I can barely look after myself, how am I going to look after a child? And if I’m incapable it will mean that you will have to carry the burden of it all - of raising the child, of me and of yourself and I don’t want that for you.”
You fell silent again, realising that the conversation was going just like it always did.
You would go on to insist that you were ready for whatever was to come and the time was right now, Jun would insist that he isn’t willing to let you take on so much and that marriage shouldn’t be about timing, it should be about wanting to be with each other. You would then claim he’s being too emotionally driven about this and he would claim that you were being too practical and the conversation would just be about the two of you justifying your point of views, reaching no conclusion.
This is what happened every single time. This was what was going to happen again now. And frankly, you were tired of it.
“When did we start wanting such different things?” You glanced at the road that disappeared into the darkness. The early morning light was not enough to illuminate the path ahead. “I thought…. we were perfect for each other, that we were meant to be. After nearly ten years, where did it all go wrong?”
You didn’t mean for it to sound hurtful, but Jun had always been the sensitive one.
“Just because we’re not in the same frame of mind right now, doesn’t mean all the years we shared mean nothing.”
“But what does it mean?” You smiled sadly. “We aren’t growing, we aren’t able to help each other grow, what was the point of it all? Ten years and…. we achieved nothing.”
It was like you were leaving arrow after arrow to pierce his heart - he knew you were the reasonable kind - always planning, always making lists, always marking milestones. Whatever you were saying now, had to be the result of a moment of frustration, not because you were questioning the love that you had for each other…. right?
You weren’t regretting this, were you?
He let out the breath he was holding. “Then maybe it would have been better if the last ten years didn’t happen at all.”
Please say I’m wrong Y/n. Please say prove me wrong, please say we’re worth it.
Although you were never really one to be driven by emotions, Jun always was. The one who never forgot anniversaries, the one who always tried to make every moment special, the one who always reminded you that you were not each other’s habits but each other’s love. Had things gone so far that the man who savoured every moment of being in love with you, thought it was better that you never met?
“Is that what you really think?” You whispered, ignoring the feeling of something pricking the back of your eyes.
Jun turned to you surprised. How could you even think that? Of course not-
“Careful!”
Headlights beamed from right across, but this time, Jun’s quick swerve was not enough.
As the car skidded wildly, with a sickening crunch it slammed into the side of the oncoming truck, the momentum sending it toppling over, rolling violently onto its roof with a screech of metal. As it came to a stop, the sun rose from above the clouds far away and steam rose from what was remaining of the crumpled vehicle. In the heavy stillness that followed, alongside the eerie whisper of the wind, streams of red mixed with the white of the snow.
Your boyfriend’s hand extending towards you was the last thing you saw before everything went black.
The Afterlife: 31st December 2024
Pain.
Unbearable pain.
That's what was searing through his body, over and over again. Everywhere, in every inch…. Just pain.
Perhaps because he hadn’t stopped running.
Jun had been running in the forest for what seemed like forever. Where to? He had no idea. Where from? He didn’t know that either.
All he knew was he was looking for something he had lost. Something clearly precious to him. Something he couldn’t live without.
Yet ignorantly, he kept running. Until....
Jun.
Your voice echoed around him like a soft whisper. Finally stopping by the lake, he looked around, frantically trying to find you.
It was then, across the frozen crystal clear waters he saw you - beautiful as ever, the only bright thing in the dark, daunting woods.
He wanted to go to you, he wanted to be with you but the slippery ice didn’t let him take a step forward.
Instead, you took a step back.
Then another one.
Then another.
Jun continued to call out your name, trying to stop you from receding into the shadows but in vain. Slowly you disappeared into the darkness, the black of the woods engulfing you as Jun fell to his knees, the ice cracking under him.
Shutting his eyes, he attempted to stop the pain but it only got worse. It was just pain, pain, pain.
When he opened them, white flickering lights were strangely swaying above him.
Blinking, Jun tried to see clearly but just then, the ice finally gave away, submerging him into the cold waters.
As the icy waters of the lake dragged him down, Jun felt his eyes slowly shut again and your name was the last thing he remembered.
The Awakening: 27th January 2025
The blur flickering light of the ceiling became clear as the rhythmic beeping of machines slowly pulled him from the depths of unconsciousness.
Head throbbing and body aching, an unsettling sense of disorientation washed over him, like he had been asleep for too long. Slowly raising himself on his elbows, Jun looked around, eyes finding the strange setting of a hospital room, the overwhelming smell of antiseptic finally hitting him.
Shutting his eyes again, he tried to recollect what happened, how he ended up here……
“Y/n…”
The argument.
The crash.
The sight of your eyes fluttering shut as blood trickled down your face.
“Fuck.” He mumbled, looking at all the tubes and wires attached to him, holding him back. Without an ounce of care, he tugged them off, triggering the loud alarms of the machines but before his feet even touched the cold tile of the floor, the doors flung open and a handful of people donning impeccably white coats spilled in, looking worried.
“Sir, please don’t-”
“Where’s Y/n?”
“You need to calm down, you’re not ok-”
He grabbed the collar of the man before him. “Don’t tell me to calm down. Where is Y/n?”
“We…” The doctor looked terrified. “Who is Y/n?”
Annoyed, Jun tugged on his shirt harder. “The car crash, there was a woman with me in the car, in the passenger seat, where is she?”
“What woman?” The man stuttered, looking at his team confused. “You were brought to our hospital alone.”
Shocked, Jun loosened his grip, allowing the doctor to quickly move back, putting himself at an arm’s distance.
Alone?
“That’s not possible….” He muttered. “She was with me, she should be here…”
“The accident happened in the countryside so you were taken to the nearest emergency care but your injuries were too severe so they shifted you here, to the city hospital.” The doctor looked at him slightly hesitating. “Maybe there was a woman with you, but she wasn’t brought here. Either her condition wasn’t serious enough or she didn’t….”
Eyes narrowing, Jun looked at the shivering man before him. “She didn’t, what?”
“S-she didn’t make it-”
“How dare you?” He spoke between gritted teeth, charging towards the doctor, only to be quickly held back by the nurses around him. “How dare you even suggest something like that-”
“Mr. Junhui, I was only stating the possibility-”
“What you’re saying is not possible-”
“Sir please, your heart rate is getting erratic-”
“I don’t care, I need to find her-”
“You can’t leave.”
“Stop me if you can.” Jun pulled himself free from the grip of those around him, leaving for the door, glaring at the crowd challengingly.
Only one of them dared to step forward - a woman, one not wearing a doctor’s coat, looking at him with sympathy rather than fear.
“Sir please….” She whispered softly, slowly approaching him, ignoring the worried looks of those around her. “I understand your worry and I’m so sorry for this but you need to calm down…. I have no other choice.”
Jun frowned as she neared, maintaining a strong, unavoidable eye contact, the contents of her hands completely missing his vision. Before he could understand what was happening, there was a prick in his arm, hands reaching out to him and the flickering light blurred again as his eyes shut.
28th January 2025
“Let me go.”
The events from about 24 hours ago had repeated again.
The fluttering lights, the machines, the wires, the tubes, the doctors - everything happened in the same sequence except there was one difference this time. When Jun tried to pull on the wires and swing his legs off the bed, he found all four of his limbs restrained.
“Please.” He whispered. “I need to find Y/n.”
“Sir, there really was no woman brought along with you.” The woman’s eyes reflected the same sympathy they had since the day he had been wheeled in. “We got your records from the emergency center you were taken to.”
Pulling out a bunch of papers from a file, she placed it on his lap. “There was a woman with you but she was discharged from there within a week.”
“A-a week?” Jun stuttered, looking around. “How long has it been since the accident?”
“Almost…” She looked at the papers thoughtfully. “Almost a month. You’ve been unconscious all this while, you sustained a traumatic injury to your-”
“What about Y/n?”
Stepping up and reading through the papers, the doctor from earlier spoke with his expertise. “She had a severe injury on her head too but she gained consciousness about a week after the accident and she…. just left.”
“Just left?” It felt as though something cold was just dumped on his head. “Just left me?”
“Mr. Jun, we’re not sure what exactly happened but….” The woman looked at him uncertainly. “The last few weeks that you were here, no woman has come to visit you. Y/n hasn’t been around.”
Jun let out a shaky breath, “She probably didn’t know I was here. She… she must be looking for me, she must be so worried. I should go to her-”
“You’re not well enough to leave.” The doctor spoke from behind the woman, worried even though Jun’s movements were restrained. “I wouldn’t suggest-”
“I don’t want your suggestion. I want you to open these-” He tugged on the belts. “-so I can go.”
Everyone exchanged looks, shifting in their places.
“Open them!”
“Again, I’m sorry Mr. Jun.” The woman approached him slowly, an injection clearly visible in her hand this time. “This is for your good.”
Once again, everything became blur before it all went dark.
31st January 2025
“She didn’t pick the call.” The woman without a coat, who’s name Jun learnt was Mira, walked up to him. “Again.”
Sighing, Jun looked outside the window. The streets were busy - cars were going up and down, people were walking about, some laughing, some stressed. But everything was moving, everyone was moving. Only his life had come to a standstill.
“Do you remember anyone else’s number?”
Jun shook his head. “Who even memorises numbers these days? Everything is stored on my phone-”
“-which broke in the accident.” She finished for him.
“I only remember my girlfriend’s number because she forced me to remember it in case of emergencies like these.” He chuckled softly, walking up to the wall with the pictures of the two of you stuck all over. He ran his fingers over the picture of you hugging him from behind, head resting on his shoulder. “She was always so well prepared, always a step ahead….. except now.”
When Jun woke up 3 days ago, Mira had been there to tell him you were nowhere to be found. She had looked for you at home, which had been abandoned for over a month, at the library where you often worked on your projects, at the stores where you preferred to shop, at the park where you jogged every morning. You were nowhere.
Your family was nowhere to be seen either - the house was locked and the neighbours claimed they had gone somewhere overseas. There was no trace of you at all - it was like you had vanished into thin air, like you were just a mirage, a dream.
“I wish I could help Jun.” Mira walked up to him, placing her hand on his shoulder, looking around his apartment. “I’m sorry the only thing I could assist you with is getting you back home. But I had someone clean up the place so it should be more habitable now.”
“Thank you Mira, for everything.” He muttered, slowly moving her arm away, tearing his eyes away from the photographs. “I’m sorry, I… I think I should….. shower, I smell like the hospital.”
She nodded as Jun disappeared into the washroom, wordlessly asking her to leave. Grabbing her bag, she shot him one last sad look as she hesitatingly made her way out.
Standing before the mirror, Jun sighed at his reflection - he had never seen himself look this lifeless. Wincing in pain, he removed his shirt slowly, pulling it over his head - almost healed gashes and wounds were littered all over his torso.
The memory of an injured you flashed behind his shut eyes.
“Where are you Y/n?” He whispered, trying not to let his voice shake. “Come back to me.”
Jun glanced at the small coffee shop across the road, one he had never seen before, the hanging sign board slowly swaying in the cold wind - Lonely Hearts Cafe.
So many things had changed over the last month. He, who was the biggest homebody known to mankind, could not bear to stay in his house for another minute. Not where every inch of it was filled with the essence of you, where everything was a reminder of you. A part of him was relieved that there were pictures and traces of you were everywhere - that meant you were real, not a figment of his imagination…. but that also made your absence hurt more.
He had spent the last few hours wandering the streets mindlessly, trying not to let everything outside the haven the two of you built together remind him of you too.
But there you were, in your favourite pizza shop on the corner of the street, munching on a slice. Just as he approached, shocked and frantic, you disappeared, like you were never there. And then he saw you again, at the hairdressers this time, getting just the ends trimmed, like always. And then you were by the butchers, petting that little dog you adored. And then by the lake, glancing at the frozen waters, vanishing as usual when he approached to stand by you. Even though you weren’t really around, his eyes found the memories of you everywhere - it was like he didn’t know a life without you.
There was no life without you.
The cafe he was currently staring at was perhaps the only place that Jun knew he wouldn’t see you. It looked new, like a business that had just freshly found itself in this vicinity but something about it was also whimsical and fairytale-like, as though it was someone’s old dream came true. Jun had never been a coffee kinda guy - Chinese tea was usually his go-to beverage so it didn’t make sense why he felt this strange urge to go in. Maybe because he knew he wouldn’t be haunted by your absence there.
At first, he took a step ahead, attempting to go towards it but he was unable to take another - he didn’t want to not see you. Even though it hurt, he’d rather see the memories of you everywhere than familiarise himself with a life without you.
So shaking his head, he turned away, heading back home, going back to everything that reminded him of you when…… something caught his eye.
At first, he thought his eyes were playing tricks on him again because there was no way….
Inching closer, ignoring the oncoming traffic and the screaming drivers, he crossed the road, standing right before the large glass windows of the shop. Slowly raising his hand, he wiped the condensation off the frosted glass, catching a clear sight of what was inside.
You.
There you were, walking about in a little checkered apron, placing cups of coffee on the table as you flashed your bright smile at those who were seated.
Squeezing his eyes shut, Jun turned around, fists tightened painfully. You’ll disappear again, just like all those times before, you’ll disappear again, he was just imagining this, projecting his innermost desire. You weren’t really here….right?
But the sound of your laughter told him he was wrong. Quickly turning back, he caught sight of you again, making your way to the counter, putting cash into a large glass jar on the wooden shelf.
As though in a trance, Jun walked over to the door and pushed it open, eyes not leaving you as you laughed and scribbled something down on a notepad before walking to the tables with a bounce in your strut he had never seen before.
Just as your name found itself on the tip of his tongue, you stopped your tracks and turned around, eyes finding him walking in, lips curling with a wide smile.
“Hi sir, welcome to Lonely Hearts Cafe.” Clutching the notepad to your chest, you beamed at him. “Do you want to take a seat or get a drink to go?”
“Y/n…” He whispered, barely able to hear himself, taking a small step ahead.
“Oh I almost forgot,” You softly smacked your head. “If you’re interested, we’re having a small valentines special event, for singles. Any two people who get the exact same drink will be paired to sit at the same table. It’s kind of a ‘if your tastes match, maybe you guys will too’ sort of concept?”
Given he was staring at you with a vacant expression, you blinked at him like you weren’t quite sure if he understood.
Jun didn’t understand. Why were you behaving like he was a stranger? Like you didn’t know him.
Maybe…. this wasn’t you.
“So…” Tucking your loose fringes behind your ear, you tried searching his face for an answer. “What would you like?”
Jun’s eyes flickered to the healing gash on your forehead, the night of the accident, flashing in his mind again.
It was you. There was no doubt it was you.
And so without a second thought, Jun took two big strides, pulling you towards him, wrapping his arms around you tightly, burying his face in the crook of your neck.
“Excuse me?! Sir-”
“Where have you been?” He muttered, not realising you were struggling to break free from his grip. “I’ve been looking for you-”
“Get off me!” Using all your strength, you pushed him off you, causing the man to take a few staggering steps back, shocked.
All heads in the cafe turned towards the two of you, a strange silence descending upon the room before hushed whispers broke out. Flashing a fake smile at everyone, you quickly grabbed Jun by his wrist, leading him out of the cafe, shutting the door behind you.
“What the hell was that?” You glared at him. “Sir, I don’t know who you think you are, but that was unacceptable.”
Jun blinked at you confused. “I thought….I thought-”
“I don’t care what you thought.” You crossed your arms looking stern, all the warmth from earlier having left your being. “If I ever see you in my cafe again, I swear to god I will call the cops.”
“You…” Jun looked at you incredulously. “You’ll call the cops on me?”
“Most definitely.”
It didn’t make sense. None of this made sense. Why would you call the cops on him? Were you mad at him about something?
Jun’s racked his mind, trying to think of the last conversation the two of you had. The night of the accident. He couldn’t remember all too well, but the image of you glancing at your empty ring finger flashed in his mind.
“Is this about….getting married?” You frowned as Jun ran his hands through his hair. “If it really means this much to you then, fine, let’s get married. I just wanted it to be-”
“Married?” You looked at him like you couldn’t believe what he was saying. “Why on Earth would I marry you? I don’t even know you-”
“Jun!”
At the sound of his name, Jun turned around, only to find himself being slammed into the familiar chest of a tall, lanky man. The fragrance of expensive perfume immediately told him who it was - His best friend Minghao. As Jun tried to break free from his friend’s untimely interruption, Minghao held him tight, whispering in his ear.
“Don’t say a word.”
“Mr. Xu.” You glanced at the intertwined figures of both men, eyebrows furrowed. “You know this man?”
“Y/n.” Breaking free, Minghao threw his arm around Jun, flashing a hard smile. “This is Jun, he’s a dear friend. Sorry if he said anything or got out of line - he was just discharged from the hospital after a big accident, he’s a bit disoriented.”
“Oh.” You looked at him up and down as though it all made sense and you were unable to decide whether to feel sympathetic or stand your ground. “Mr. Jun, I’m sorry you went through all that but whatever you did, that was not appropriate at all.”
“Y/n what-”
“Yes of course.” Minghao squeezed Jun’s shoulder, shutting him up. “He won’t be troubling you again.”
“If you really do need a cup of coffee, there are a lot more shops down the street that I’m sure will suit your taste.” You took a step back, reaching for the door again, expression unreadable. “Please don’t come back to me.”
With that you pushed the door open and disappeared into the cafe allowing Minghao to finally let go of his friend who turned to him, beyond confused.
“What…. What was that?” He pointed at you, waiting the tables again inside, like nothing happened. Like he didn’t exist.
“Jun…” Minghao let out a shaky breath, looking carefully at his friend. “Let’s go home, I’ll explain everything.”
“No.” Shaking his head frantically, he reached for the door again. “I’m not going anywhere without Y/n.”
Moving quickly, Minghao put himself in between, blocking the way.
“Please.” He held his hand out. “Y/n, she…. she won’t come with you.”
Jun looked at him incredulously. “Why not?”
“Because she doesn’t remember….” Minghao spoke slowly, watching his friend’s face carefully. “She doesn’t remember you.”
The throbbing pain was back.
Actually, it never left. The pain was always there, it was him who had suppressed it under everything else. But with the revelation of things, it became unhinged, freely coursing in his being, hurting everywhere.
Minghao poured Jun another cup of tea as the two men sat at the dining table, the latter still clutching a photo of you, trying to make sense of all that he was told.
“She….she doesn’t remember me at all?” He frowned, still confused. “Because of…. you?”
“Because she doesn’t want to.” Minghao corrected his friend, yet again. “Jun, it was her choice to do the procedure.”
The procedure.
Minghao had spoken all about it in great detail for the last half an hour. It all went over his head though, Jun didn’t register a single piece of the information thrown at him except one thing - the procedure was to remove memories.
Yes apparently that was a thing. A new initiative by Minghao’s company - a simple medical procedure in which one could choose to erase their memories of a certain period of time. A process straight out of the sci-fi books - one so ridiculous, Jun would have never believed it if it weren’t coming out of his best friend's mouth.
That his girlfriend had gotten all her memories of him wiped from her mind.
“It makes no sense.” Jun shook his head. “Why would she want to forget me? Why would she choose to…”
Minghao looked at his friend staring at your photo sadly. He had always known Jun to be someone full of life - he was ambitious, passionate and always bursting with energy. But now he looked like the whole world had come crashing around him.
“I’m sorry Jun.” Minghao could feel the guilt eating him on the inside. “All of it happened in my company, right under my nose but I had no idea Y/n had gotten it done till it was all over. Maybe if I had reached the clinic just a little earlier, I could have stopped them from injecting the serum-”
“No Hao, whether you could stop her or not, it won’t change the fact that Y/n wanted to….” Jun swallowed the bile rising in his throat. “She didn’t want to just leave me or walk away from this relationship, she wanted to erase its entire existence from her life. To pretend like it never happened. But why…”
“I wish I knew Jun.” Minghao shook his head softly. “All I know is that this choice mustn't have been easy for her - to forget you she had to have the last 10 years of her life removed. That’s how far she was willing to go to…”
Minghao's words rang in his ears.
10 years….
Maybe it would have been better if the last ten years didn’t happen at all.
The night of the accident…. that's what he had said.
Oh god, was that why you….
What had he done?
“Jun?” Minghao snapped his fingers before his friend's face. “Where are you lost-”
“This was a mistake.” Jun shook his head. “This was all a horrible misunderstanding. I didn’t mean…”
“Mean what?”
Jun couldn’t even recall why he had said that. It was like his brain was suppressing the stupidity from recurring.
“I need to talk to her. I need to fix this.”
“How exactly-”
“I’ll marry her, right this instant if that’s what it takes-”
“Jun no-”
“Hao, yes.” He turned to his friend, determined. “I can fix it. I can talk to her and sort this out. Just help me put her memories back again-”
“That’s not-”
“-and I’ll make her see how much I love her-”
“Jun, that's not possible.” Minghao raised his voice, interrupting his friend’s rant. “Dealing with memories isn’t child’s play. It's one thing to remove them, but to restore them? That’s impossible.”
It felt like everything around was shattering. “You mean she won't ever….”
Minghao shook his head, delivering the final blow. “She won't… ever.”
Jun stared at the photo in his hand.
Minghao, who had insisted on staying the night, had hit the shower, his tea sitting cold in its cup.
Cold draft was blowing in through the open kitchen window. The tips of his fingers were frozen but they were not colder than the thing wrapping around his heart, eating it away.
Minghao’s last words as he was lingering by the door rang in his ears.
“Y/n chose to forget you Jun, she chose to restart her life. Maybe it’s best that you do too.”
Restart his life? Pretend like you didn’t exist and move on? How on Earth was he supposed to do that?
He glanced at the room around him - at the pictures of you on the walls, at the vase you brought back from your trip to spain, at the coasters you always made sure to use, at the rug you specifically had made to match the couch, at every single thing in his life that was a testament of you. How was he supposed to forget all of it?
But the truth was, you had forgotten it all. You had walked out of his life, your home and everything the two of you had built together over the last 10 years. None of this around him meant anything to you anymore.
You had built a new world for yourself, one which Jun had reached, lost in his thoughts. The cafe, the coffee, the customers, the infectious smile on your face, the little bounce in strut, the way your hair fell over your shoulder as you’d turn - you had built something that had no trace of him but more importantly, you looked so happy. Jun couldn’t remember the last time he saw you smile this wide, or even laugh at something stupid. The winter was harsh on the city outside but everything around you seemed so warm.
Maybe Minghao was right. Maybe it was best that he forgot it all too.
1st February 2025
“Where do I put this?”
Jun turned to Mira who was holding up a bunch of books in her arms.
“They're all cookbooks, but I'm not sure whether to put it in the box with her law books or in the one with magazines.”
“We can just leave these out.” Taking them from here, Jun walked into the kitchen. “We don't have to put away everything.”
Sighing Mira followed him. “Jun, boss said everything. Everything that belongs to her, everything that reminds you of her.”
Jun stared at the books in his hands. Two hours ago, he was sprawled on the couch half asleep, your scarf wrapped around his hand, a frame with your photo in his arms. Much to his annoyance, the consistent ringing of the bell forced him to drag himself to the door and standing on the other side was Mira.
Jun didn't think he would ever have any reason to see her again but apparently, Mira wasn't just a random hospital staff who helped him - she was in fact Minghao's employee, a psychiatrist who worked in his Memory Wipe project and was asked by him to look after Jun till he came around, as a favour. That day when she left the apartment, she had immediately told Minghao about all that happened - that's how he found his friend declaring he was ready to marry you in front of the coffee shop. Mira though, had no idea about you or that you had your memories wiped - she only found out when Minghao, who left early in the morning for a meeting, sent her over to Jun’s house with a new phone and a contract. A contract to obliterate the last 10 years of his memories.
“You want me to erase her existence?” Jun furiously muttered into the phone. “How did you even think-”
“Will you be able to survive with her memories?” Even though he couldn't see his face, Jun knew Minghao was donning a sorry expression. “It'll kill slowly you, Jun. Not being able to be with her, not being able to forget her, not being able to move on. If I had to name something worse than hell, this is it.”
For long after the call ended, Jun stared at the contact papers on the coffee table, his mind disturbed. As much as he didn't want to distance himself from you, could he really live with the fact that you'll never be his again? It had been barely 2 days since he was awake and he was already at the verge of losing his mind. Maybe it was better he too forgot it all.
But it also pained him to think that if both of you forgot everything, then there was no one who truly knew the kind of pure and unwavering love the two of you shared over the last ten years. At least for the sake of those, he had to stay strong, he had to live with this. But could he really?
And it was thoughts like this that had him rooted to his chair for over an hour.
“You don't have to decide now.” Mira interrupted his cycle of thought, tired of watching his unmoving figure. “The procedure is simple. I already have the 10 year formula ready in your name. All you have to do is just come by the centre when you're ready - one injection and it'll be done.”
As much as Jun was grateful for the time, there was one thing Minghao wanted him to do immediately - clear the apartment of anything and everything that belonged to you. That's what the two of them were in the middle of right now as Mira glanced at the cookbooks in his hands.
“Jun, whether or not you want to get the Memory Wipe, you need to get rid of all these things. You won't ever move on otherwise-”
“They're cookbooks.” Jun rolled his eyes, placing them on the shelf of the kitchen. “Has it not occurred to you that I might use these myself?”
Mira stared at him like she didn't believe him but Jun ignored her. There was no way he was going to get rid of every last bit of you. What would be left of him then?
All your clothes were packed and stashed in the store room, all the pictures of the two of you were taken down, your books, your things, everything was sealed and locked away. Except a few that Jun refused to let go - the lavender cream you used every night, the harmonica you loved to play, the cookbooks you swore would make you a better chef than him. Jun didn't have the heart to walk away from all of it just yet.
Giving up, Mira began walking away. “I'm going to put her shoes away.”
“Wait.” Aligning the books hurriedly, Jun quickly ran over to the closet. “Maybe just leave those heels.”
Mira looked exasperated. “What use could you possibly have of women's footwear?”
Nothing. Jun just loved those black stilettos you wore to work - the sound of them against the wooden flooring was what told him you were home everyday.
“Jun, this whole thing isn't just about you getting over Y/n. If you plan to do the Memory Wipe, you especially need to do this” Mira stood up sighing. “Imagine losing 10 years of your life and coming home and finding a woman's things all over. You won't remember her, you won't know what happened, you won't have any answers, it'll drive you mad. Please, listen to me, you need to get rid of it all.”
Jun turned away, peeling his eyes from the closet as Mira put the last of your footwear in the boxes, looking at him sadly.
“How did Minghao even design this procedure?” Jun glanced at the contact papers fluttering on the table. “I knew he was indulging in some biomedical R&D, I had no idea it was this intense.”
Mira chuckled. “Biomedical R&D barely covers the scope of what he does. Let's just say the Xu enterprises dabble in a lot of things and the Memory Wipe is their latest project. Actually its just undergoing it's last clinical trial - it’s not even advertised or available for the public.”
“How did Y/n get to know about it then?” Jun frowned like it didn't make sense. “Minghao never talks business with me and I'm sure he's never mentioned it to her either. Then…”
“There were a bunch of lawyers involved in the legal aspects of the clinical trials.” Mira confessed, shrugging. “Maybe she heard from someone in the fraternity.”
“Funny.” Jun smiled sadly. “Y/n has never been one for office gossip. She just liked to get her work done and head straight back home. It was always about efficiency and not wasting time.”
Mira smiled. “That's an admirable work ethic.”
“Right? I wish I had that.” Jun glanced out of the window at the snow tumbling out of the sky. “Maybe she wouldn't have had to work so hard if I did.”
“What do you mean?”
Jun glanced at Mira who had joined him, before continuing to stare out.
“Y/n always believed in working hard. For her, a job was simply a means to make money. She didn't associate it with dreams or passion, it was just… survival? Me on the other hand, ever since I was a child, all I wanted to do was be an actor. I spent the last, god knows how many years, chasing that dream, picturing myself before the cameras, walking down red carpets. If I look back at my life, all I see are auditions and rejections and more rejections.”
“It's not wrong to want to live your dream.”
“No it's not but I don't know how right it is to live with your head in the clouds. Y/n always had her feet on the ground - that was the only reason we survived through it all.”
“So your story is the ‘opposites attract’ kind?”
“I guess.” Jun laughed softly. “We were polar opposites actually. She hates talking, I'm always chatting away. She's a mess, I'm neat. She hates doing household chores, I love doing them. Even in food, she loves sweet things, I like them spicy. Our preferences in anything, be it music or movies or where to go or what to wear, they were always so different but I guess….that's what made things fun. Sometimes she'd adjust for me, sometimes me for her, and though things weren't going our way, we were happy because we were making each other happy.”
“Wow.” Mira let out a breath. “I always thought being in love with someone entirely from me would be difficult to handle.”
“If I'm being honest, there were times it did get difficult.” Jun wiped the condensation off the window with his hand, catching sight of your cafe across the street. “Y/n lived life like it was a checklist. Graduating high school at 18, then law school at 23, first job at 24, marriage at 25, three kids by the time she's 30, retired by 55, starting an organic farm business at 57 and then dying whenever - she had her whole life planned. Me on the other hand, I… live in the moment, go where life takes me. Everything around us is so uncertain, think about the accident”
Jun’s voice shook as fragments of it flashed in his head.
“We could have died, life as we know could have ended, so what's the point in deciding everything so prematurely? I take life by the day, I enjoy every moment - one day I'm doing martial arts classes for kids, one day I'm teaching old women some Chinese dishes, one day I'm doing a modelling contract. End of the day, I still make money to feed myself and pay my bills, I just don't go to bed having the next 10 years of my life planned and somehow….. I think that's what drove us apart. That's why she…” Jun let out a deep breath. “That's why she decided to start afresh. Her practicality and my emotional disposition just… didn't find any middle ground.”
Mira softly placed her hand on Jun's shoulder, caressing it with her thumb. Clearing his throat, he took a step back, tearing his eyes away from the coffee house.
“We should probably continue with the packing.”
Mira nodded as she followed him, the two of them sorting things silently this time. Normally Jun wouldn't ever let go of a chance to talk about you, but now, given he had to speak about you in past tense, Jun couldn't bring himself to talk about you over and over again. Minghao was right, it was all just getting harder and harder.
And so, the next few hours were navigated in mostly silence and occasional questions. By the time the sun had begun to set, the two of them were done - all of your things had been neatly packed and put in the store room, the door locked, keys stashed in Mira's pocket for safe keeping. A couple of things had been piled by the door to be thrown out, Jun's take out dinner had arrived and Mira was lingering by the door, ready to leave. Yet the contract papers were sitting on the table, like an elephant in the room. Unable to hold herself back anymore, Mira sighed.
“Jun, I know Minghao left the choice to you but as a professional and as someone who cares about you, I think it's best you…. " She gulped. "sign the contract. I've seen some couples after the clinical trials, trust me, you don't want to live this weight-”
“Mira,” Jun’s voice left him between gritted teeth. “It's been barely 2 days since I got to know about what Y/n did. I haven't even decided if I am to be sad or angry or stay or move on.” He shut his eyes, running his hands through his hair. “The only reason I agreed to keep her things away or allowed someone else to even touch them was because one, I trust Minghao more than anything and two, if I really want to, I know I'm strong enough to break the door of that storeroom and get everything back. But what you're asking of me, is a permanent change. Please just…. Let me think things through at my pace.”
Mira blinked at him, her hand on the handle of the door, unmoving.
“Thank you for your help yet again Mira, but I think it's time you go.”
And before the apology even left her mouth as she stepped out, Jun shut the door behind her, leaning against it.
He just needed some time. That’s all.
Or at least that's what he thought but in just a few hours, he realised he didn't.
Yesterday was perhaps bearable because Minghao, although he didn't speak much, was there in the house. Today though, heating up his food all alone, sitting at the table by himself, walking around his house in the dimness of the night lights, staring at the empty walls and empty shelves - it was all too much. Jun couldn't bring himself to go another day like this, forget the rest of his life.
Taking a deep breath he sat on the couch, pulling the papers towards himself, then pen in his hand shaking.
He wasn't strong enough for this - he couldn't go on without you.
Finally making up his mind, he gripped the pen tight and signed the contract. There was no other way.
But the universe said otherwise.
If Jun had just turned around and gone to his room, things would've gone down very differently. Maybe if he decided to sleep instead of clearing the dishes and throwing the trash, he would've never thought about clearing all the boxes that Mira left by the door. Maybe then he wouldn't have come across that box.
At first glance when he opened it, it seemed like odd bits of trash - there were pieces of paper, little trinkets, bills and what not. He was just about to throw it when his eye caught the familiar logo on one of the bills - the Lovers Cavern. The first Michelin star restaurant that Jun had taken you to on a date. Frowning, he ran his fingers through the contents of the box, recognising them one by one. Carnival and movie tickets, the crinkled wrapper of the ice cream he loves, the magnets from your first road trip together, the dried corsage from your first dance together…. everything was a thoughtful piece of the time the two of you spent together.
You had been carefully saving them over the last 10 years.
Jun stared at it wordlessly, lost in thought. He had never taken you as one for sentimentality. Hell you didn't even like taking photos or recording videos of your time together, he was always the one who had to pull you in, forcing you to smile. He had always assumed those small moments meant nothing to you but this box told him a different story - you had been treasuring them all these years in your own way. This relationship wasn’t just part of a checklist, you had been emotionally invested in it since the beginning, since 10 years.
Jun could only imagine how much his words must have hurt you that day…. Clearly enough to make you take such a big step. You didn't walk away because you wanted to. You walked away because of him. His words made you…. it was his fault.
Walking over to the window, Jun glanced at your cafe, watching as you stepped out with a couple of bags in your hands, turning off the lights and locking the door. As you balanced your things in your hands, waving for a cab, Jun slowly realised….. Minghao was wrong.
His only options weren't to either live with your memories alone or forget you and move on. There was a third one. One that Jun was about to choose.
He was going to get you back. He had done it once and he could do it again.
Jun was going to make you fall in love with him all over again.
2nd February 2025
Rubbing the back of your sore neck, you sat down at the benches outside the cafe, enjoying the cold.
One might think you were stupid for sitting in the snow clad street in just a small dress and an apron but the heat of the coffee was getting unbearable. Sipping on your own coffee, you glanced at the hustle and bustle down the street. Everyone looked so busy, like they were navigating life with a purpose. This coffee shop had always been your purpose, the dream you had been living for almost a month now yet something felt unfulfilled. Something was missing. Before you could figure out what, a voice broke you out of your reverie.
“Is the same drink, same table offer still going on?”
Raising your head, you let your eyes find the man who interrupted the few minutes of your me-time.
“Mr. Wen Junhui.” You cleared your throat, letting the annoyance show on your face. “I believe I had asked you not to enter my shop?”
“You did.” Jun nodded, sitting down beside you, a few feet away. “And I did not enter your shop - technically I'm outside.”
You glared at him, eyes narrowed.
“Well since you're such an ardent follower of what I say, you shouldn't be sitting with me either because-”
“Because I need to have the same drink as you, right?” Jun cocked his head at you, raising his cup. “And I do.”
“There's no way.” You chuckled, taking a sip. “I can assure you, you don't.”
“Correct me if I'm wrong,” Jun took a sip, smiling to himself because he knew he was not wrong. No one knew you better than him. “But I think that's a caramel macchiato with hazelnut cream.”
Lips slightly parted in surprise, you stared at him.
“M-maybe.” You muttered, taking a sip yourself. “But I still don’t think it’s the exact same-”
“Yeah, it might not be exact.” Jun shrugged nonchalantly. “Not like I’m lactose intolerant or anything but I felt like taking it with oat milk today.”
The cup nearly slipped from your hand. You were lactose intolerant. You always took your coffee with oat milk.
Choosing not to tell him that, you simply continued to stare at the busy crowd. Jun let out an inward sigh of relief knowing he had earned the place to sit next to you.
“Y/n…” Clearing his throat, he corrected himself. Baby steps Jun. “Ms. Y/n I uh actually wanted to apologise about that day.”
You turned to him, eyebrows slightly furrowed.
“I had actually just gotten out of the hospital that day and I don’t think the anesthesia wore off completely so I was apparently just going around and…. proposing marriage to various women.”
You raised your eyebrows like you didn’t believe him.
“It’s true, I spent the whole day today saying sorry to every business owner on this street…. And drinking the same coffee order as them. I think I’m going to have a tough time in the bathroom tomorrow….”
Scoffing, you turned away from him and if Jun didn’t know you better, he wouldn’t have known you were hiding a tiny smile.
“Again I’m really Ms. Y/n, I wish that didn’t happen and that we could have a fresh start. I was really looking forward to having coffee here.”
Letting out a deep resigned breath, you stood up, chugging the last of your drink. Tossing the cup in the bin, you turned to him, clasping your hands before you politely, giving him a small smile.
“Mr. Wen Junhui, welcome to Lonely Hearts cafe. We’re a small business that opened just a month ago so we’ve got some really good deals on coffee and cake. We even have a Valentine’s day event - you get to share a table with the person who has the same drink as you. I hope we see you around.”
Returning your smile, Jun got up, giving a small shrug. “That Valentine’s day event is interesting - I would love to… be seen around.” He chuckled, holding his hand out. “It’s nice knowing you Ms. Y/n.”
Glancing at his outstretched hand, you slowly took it, wrapping your fingers around it. Somehow on the cold winter day, there was a strange warmth radiating between the two of you.
“It’s nice getting to know you too Mr. Jun.”
3rd February 2025
“You know, you don’t look like someone who enjoys coffee.”
Jun turned at the sound of your voice, finding you right beside the door he just walked in. You had a tray in your hands and an amused smile on your face.
“What makes you say that?”
“The face you made yesterday?” You laughed as you walked in, Jun following behind you. “I’ve never seen someone look so disgusted while drinking coffee.”
Jun suppressed a smile as he leaned against the counter. “Oh so you were watching me.”
Rolling your eyes, you walked towards the machines. “I happened to see.”
“The one yesterday was just too sweet.” He shuddered, recalling the taste. “My taste buds were dying.”
“Well obviously it was sweet, it’s caramel.” You pulled out a piece of cake, putting it on the counter as a waitress walked over, taking it. “Did you expect it to taste like Malatang?”
Oh Jun would love some Malatang right now.
“No, but something told me your coffee would taste much better than that one.”
You chuckled, pulling up a cup. “Is that going to be your order for today?’
“Nope.” Jun shook his head. “I’ll just have whatever you’re having.”
“What I’m having?” You frowned, confused.
“How else will I be able to share a table with you?”
Jun could tell you were holding back a smile. “And why would you want to do that?”
“I thought coffee with a side of conversation would be nice.”
“I’m working.”
“I’ll wait.”
“I only get off at 5.”
“I’ll wait.”
“And then I need to head straight home.”
“I just need 10 minutes.”
You raised your eyebrows like you were trying to figure out what his intentions were. Meanwhile, he looked at you determined, like he’ll wait for a lifetime, if that’s what it took. Sighing you pulled out a piece of cake and set it before him. Then changing your mind, you quickly swapped it for a couple of lemon biscuits and slid it to him.
“They’re on the house.”
And with that you tightened your apron and walked away, leaving Jun staring at his favourite biscuits on the counter.
“Do you need any help?”
You looked up from the table you were cleaning at Jun who was still here, his coat discarded, cheeks flushed red and eyes tired.
“I have staff Mr. Jun.”
“She left.” He shrugged, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Told me to inform you.”
“Huh.” You frowned. “She always stays till I close for the extra ten I hand her every day.”
Jun remained silent, looking away.
“You paid her.”
“I was just helping her go home fast.”
Sighing, you straightened yourself, crossing your arms. “Okay what is it, what do you want?”
“I told you, a conversation.”
“Well that’s what we’re having right?”
“Right…” Jun cleared his throat, unsure how to frame his sentences while you continued to look at him expectantly. When he didn’t say anything, you rolled your eyes and continued cleaning up.
“I was thinking…” You held out the tray, making him quickly free his hands to hold it as you began stacking plates and cutlery on it. “You’re a woman.”
“Are you doubting it?” Frowning, you walked over to the trash can, Jun right behind, struggling to balance everything.
“No! I mean I wasn’t thinking if you were a woman, more like I was thinking since you’re a woman and I’m a man….”
Jun trailed off completely lost about where he was going with this till you relieved him of the weight in his arms, placing the tray in the sink.
“Mr. Jun,” You untied your apron, tucking it on the rod of the drawer. “You only have 10 minutes.”
“Okay okay.” Jun recomposed himself, watching you pack up your things for the night. Looks like he just had to get straight to the point. “Yes I have 10 minutes right now, but my worry is, we only have 10 days.”
“What do you mean?”
“It's Valentine's in 10 days….” Jun muttered below his breath trying to gauge your reaction.
“Are you…” You narrowed your eyes at him unsure. “Is this your way of asking me out?”
“No god,” Jun groaned, running his hands through his hair. “I swear I planned it so much better in my head-”
“Don’t.”
And with that one word, you crushed everything. All the hope, the longing, the yearning.
“Look Mr. Jun, normally I wouldn't go into the details but I don't want you to think I'm blowing you off but about a month ago, I got a Memory Wipe. I lost the last ten years of my life and I’m still trying to come to terms with how much things have changed.... I’m just not ready for any kind of commitment.”
“But….” Jun blinked at you confused. “You smiled…”
“Sorry?”
“Yesterday and today…. I thought, you might also…”
“Mr. Jun.” You sighed, donning your jacket, zipping up. “You’re a good looking man, you’re sweet and I can tell you’d be a good conversation but I didn’t mean for it to be more than that. I just assumed it would be some harmless flirting.”
“I don’t want it to just be harmless flirting.” Jun shook his head. “I want something more. I like you and I want to-”
“Like me, why?” You looked at him confused, grabbing your bags. “We’ve barely spoken more than 5 sentences to each other.”
We’ve been in love for more than 10 years Y/n.
“I can’t explain it, it just…. feels right.”
“Well I can’t function based on your whims and feelings, can I?”
Jun stood frozen as you turned off the lights and opened the door, stepping out. Grabbing his jacket he followed you, watching you lost in thought as you locked the door before you turned to him.
“Look, you seem like a nice guy and I’m sure you’ll find someone. It just can’t be me, I’m not in the space for it.” Adjusting the bags in your hands, you shot him an apologetic look. “I’m sorry Mr. Jun.”
And with that you walked away, your figure moving further and getting smaller as cold winds returned to the city. For some stupid reason, Jun hadn’t anticipated this - he didn’t think about the possibility of you rejecting his advances. He just assumed the two of you would fall into the comfortable pattern of dating each other and everything would slowly return to normal. Your disappearing self was telling him otherwise….
No.
Jun couldn’t allow this to happen. He couldn’t lose this chance.
“Wait!” Pulling his jacket over his shivering body, he ran to you, half tripping on the way. “Wait, please.”
And you did, looking at his panting, coughing self standing in your way, trying to catch his breath. Searching your bags, you handed him a bottle of water but Jun ignored it, looking at you questioningly.
“If whatever happened to you a month ago, didn’t happen, would you agree to go out on a date with a guy like me?”
“I….” You looked around confused. “I don’t know.”
“Do you have any other reason not to give us… to give me a shot?” Crossing his fingers, Jun tucked his hands in his pocket. “Any other reason to say no?”
“Not really, no.”
Bingo.
“I’m sure the aftermath of the Memory Wipe hasn't been easy but life won’t stop just because you want things to pause.” Gulping he looked at you expectantly. “Look Y/n I too am in a space where things are difficult where I want to hit rewind, but I realised maybe it’s better to hit restart and I want to try that with you.”
“Jun I…”
“Here’s my suggestion, just hear me out.” He clasped his hands, ignoring the cold drafts. “Give me 10 days, just 10 days to change your mind about us. I know I can do it, I know I can make you see I’m worth it, that we’re worth it.”
“You’re really not going to take no for an answer are you?”
Jun shook his head, his face falling. “No I…. I don’t want to force you. I was just suggesting-”
“What if I’m not convinced in 10 days?” You sighed, looking at him unsure. “Will you leave the idea of ‘us’ behind and not pursue me anymore?"
“It won’t come to that-”
“If it does.”
“If it does,” Jun took a deep breath. “Then you’ll never see me again. I promise.”
And with that you went silent, like you were considering it. Jun prayed to all possible forces in the universe - please say yes, please say yes, please say yes.
“Okay.” You agreed, slowly nodding your head. “You have 10 days. If I’m not convinced, then on the 10th day, we’re done and we’re never seeing each other again, deal?”
Smiling on the inside, Jun ignored the little victory lap his head was doing. “Deal.”
“And you’re sure this will work?”
Phone against his ear, Jun nodded confidently.
“Positive.”
“What if you’re just setting yourself up for heartbreak again?”
“I’m not.” Jun rolled his eyes. “I know I can get her back. This time I’ll be better-”
“Haven’t you noticed?” Minghao voice was filled with caution. “She’s somehow not the same. The Y/n you knew was a hard core, cut throat lawyer. This Y/n is a barista who sells coffee and the idea of love.”
Jun hummed in thought. “Maybe. But deep down, she’s still my Y/n and I’m her Jun. I know her better than anyone else, I can do this-”
“And if you can’t?”
“Then I’ll live with it. But I can’t let her go without trying.”
“And what if it still doesn’t work?”
“I don’t want to consider that possibility.”
“Jun be realistic. How on Earth do you plan on convincing a woman who thinks you’re a complete stranger, is struggling with her amnesia, and more importantly doesn’t want any commitment, to date you?”
Jun sank into his couch, staring at the ceiling.
“I have no idea.” He confessed.
“Exactly, what if things get worse for you-”
“Can you just for once be a tad bit more positive?” Jun sighed. “Look at the bright side of things. Like for example, Y/n knew I didn’t like coffee-”
“-you make the most disgusting face known to mankind when you drink it, anyone would know-”
“-and she knew I like malatang-”
“-you’re Chinese Jun. I think that was a safe guess-”
“-and she knew lemon biscuits were my favourite dessert.”
This time Minghao went silent.
“Nothing snarky to say?”
When Minghao continued to keep quiet, Jun frowned, sitting up.
“Hao do you think she… remembered?”
“That’s not possible....”
"You don't sound as sure as last time." Jun noted.
Minghao let out a deep breath, like he was frustrated. “Theoretically, a memory restoration is not possible but hearing you I.... I can't tell for sure - we're also still not done with the clinical trials so I cannot exactly negate the possibility."
"So,,," Jun's eyes widened. "You're saying there is a chance she might remember everything?"
"A really really small chance.....” Minghao emphasised. "Or it could just be that since Y/n has known you for ten odd years, some her actions are just reflexive - ingrained in her subconscious after years of habit."
"But you're saying there's a small chance she might remember me again?"
Minghao sighed. Clearly, his friend wanted to just hear one thing.
"Yes. Perhaps if she's repeatedly exposed to you or to something of her past, she might remember certain things again-"
"Enough to make her want to come back to me?"
"I cannot promise that-"
"But I can try." Jun whispered, the cogwheels in his mind turning. "I have to try and Hao, I think I know exactly how."
"How-"
Cutting the call Jun tossed his phone aside and quickly grabbed the box he had stashed below the tea table, opening it. He ran his fingers again through all the memories you had saved, a small smile forming on his face.
Jun had 10 days to win you back - that meant he had 10 chances to remind you of all the good days the two of you shared. 10 memories he could recreate, ones that you yourself had stored in this very box. 10 ways he could prove 'us'..... was truly worth it.
And just like that, Wen Junhui knew exactly how to make you fall in love with him all over again.
You stared at the photo hanging on your wall, arms crossed, eyes slightly damp.
You look so happy,....he looks so happy.
Just like he did when you agreed to give him 10 days to woo you.
Sighing you tore your eyes away and stared at the ground, blinking the tears away.
“Just 10 days," You whispered, voice shaking. "….. and all of this will be over.”
A/n - This fic is tbh very long and overwhelming so I thought its best to have it out in parts? I hope you enjoyed this part and stay tuned for the next too! Thoughts in comments and reblogs are very much appreciated my loves <3
genre: baseball au, university au, slight one-sided e2l, angst, fluff,
rating: M (dealing with some heavier subjects, some not nice things said)
summary: you've accepted your place in the world of baseball; you know what you're good at. outside of the dugout and locker room, certain university classes are NOT what you're good at. asking for help feels weak, especially from the perpetually smiley cheerleader who you're sure is just as dumb as he is pretty.
warnings: there's unkind things said in this (mostly about perceived gender and gender roles; degrading to both mc and Jun), seungcheol is awful (joshua and jeonghan aren't great either), mentions of death affect our mc though the loss occurs before the story begins, jun wears crop tops (that's definitely a warning!), some cursing, a little kissing, alcohol intake. if i've missed anything, please let me know.
a/n: a huge thank you to @sailorsoons and @100vern for letting me be a part of aju league, especially when this is my first time writing for seventeen. i hope i've done justice to Jun and the story. the story got a little heavier than i expected, but hopefully i wrote it decently. there is some baseball in this, but true to form....my english major background shows up. also....thanks so much for reading, please read all of the stories as they are posted.
notes at the bottom as well. this is unbeta'd because honestly? i didn't want anyone to tell me it was shit (i don't think it is, but i also like to live in a world of delusions)
dividers from @saradika-graphics here
You hesitate coming down the hall from the coach and staff's offices to the locker room. You're nervous, which is silly. There's no reason for there to be any concern about what transpired Saturday night.
You're an adult, he's an adult. It was consensual. It wasn't great, but you're pretty sure he doesn't know that and he seemed to have a good time. You blame the alcohol you both imbibed to why it might not have been an earth-shattering bout of sex.
Which is okay.
You hope that maybe a second time with less alcohol involved, might prove better.
You're almost to the door to the locker room when you hear his voice.
"What are you on about?"
"You disappeared with her at the party. Did you fuck our equipment girl?" It's Joshua, you can tell by the accent.
You're definitely not going in now. But you don't leave either. Curiosity killed the—
"You think I kiss and tell?"
So he's a gentleman? You've always thought he might be. He certainly has always spoken to you more kindly than a lot of the other players. Not that the bar is high.
"That's 80 percent of what you talk about, Cheol." And that's Jeonghan.
"Guys—" It takes you a little longer to recognize his voice. Because you rarely hear it at a normal volume. The male cheerleader with the megaphone. His regular tone is far less aggressive. It's almost soft. "I don't think—"
"Of course I fucked her."
Well, miracles don't really happen all that much. Besides, you told your roommate, so this is practically the same thing—
"Why? I mean, were there curves under that big t-shirt and jeans she always wears?" Joshua. You knew he didn't like you. It was only the tone of his voice, but you knew.
"I know Wen wouldn't care either way, but I only fucked her to be sure she had a pussy!"
The laughter is boisterous, loud and piercing.
Oh.
You'd turn around and leave if you could, but you came here for a reason. An errand the coach sent you on even though he could do it himself if he had a mind to.
You wait for the laughter to subside before entering. The silence is almost louder than the hilarity was a second ago.
"Choi," you begin, eyes forward to the empty lockers. It's only the four of them. The showers are occupied with the rest of the players. Small favors. "Coach wants to see you and Hong. To discuss today's game."
You dare to look at them then. Captain, his comrades Joshua and Jeonghan, usually up to mischief. Joshua looks a bit abashed, Jeonghan is holding back laughter, but that's hardly surprising.
The cheerleader is on the other side of you, and you refuse to look at him. Why would you care about his opinion? He's not even a part of the team. Barely.
Seungcheol nods at your summons, smirk curling at his lips as Joshua passes by you toward the offices. Your one night stand pauses next to you, saying your name low and tantalizing. Or it would be if you hadn't overheard what you'd overheard.
"Good to see you."
You raise your eyes to his (he's stupid tall). You might want to yell or even cry, but you haven't spent most of your life around men who think they know more about baseball than you to not hide your feelings successfullly.
And your blank expression is your absolute best weapon.
He falters for a second before following Joshua down the hall and away from you. When you go to pick up a discarded helmet and bat (you think it's Vernon because it usually is), you mistakenly look over to Jun who is seated on the bench, eyes on you. When your eyes meet, he tentatively smiles at you.
Does he think you're amused by all this?
Your eyes narrow (so much for the blank expression) and you quickly leave the locker room with your head held high.
You remember the first game. It felt like years since you watched a game live without being on staff. You weren't working with the team yet, your advisor was still trying to convince the athetic director that it contributed to your study and help to offset your tuition (your mom was grateful for that even if she never said so directly).
You bring along Binna, who isn't enthusiastic. Your new roommate prefers the theatre department, and spends most of her time in the art studio (you have no idea why she paired with you), but she likes going out and trying things.
A baseball game is one of them.
"I'm going to be so annoying," she prempts as you sit. "I know nothing about how this works."
You laugh. "It's okay. I know too much, so you'll probably be annoyed at me for explaining too much."
The game hasn't begun yet, but you're bringing a plate of dumplings and sodas for you and Binna to split. You glance to see that the cheerleaders have made their way to the top of the dugout. The image barely makes an impact on you, two female cheerleaders and a male leader (complete with megaphone), starting with chants and cheers to get the crowd revved up for the game.
You can't imagine that it's easy to do that with college kids. Especially on a hot nearly summer day.
"I know that guy," Binna says the moment to plop back down beside her.
"Hmm?" You offer her the plate of dumplings and she grabs one.
"The cheerleader guy…he's a second year. He's…um, he's besties I think with the TA in my Drawing I class."
"The hot one?" You're quoting her because you were not enrolled in any art class, so had never seen an Art TA, let alone an attractive one.
"Shut up. Yes." She squints at the cheerleaders. "That's definitely him. Jin or Jun or something. He's modeled for us."
"Naked?"
"No." She hits your arm, laughing. "Not yet."
You shake your head, eating a dumpling and settling in to watch the game. You occasionally look away from the field to the cheerleaders, but despite doing more than chants and call-and-response (he does a backflip and you're impressed), you dismiss them as pretty and on-rhythm.
It took some finagling but after producing a letter of reference (and a phone call that you begged your high school's baseball coach to make), you found yourself as a freshman, working alongside the equipment manager for the university's baseball team (mascot!!).
Nang Duho showed you the ropes reluctantly. You sensed the lack of enthusiasm and general distrust (because you were a girl? because you were young? because you wanted to do this kind of work?), but it wasn't the first time you'd run into the attitude.
You'd survived high school after all.
Once Nang realized you were authentically interested, he warmed to you. You think he liked being called seonsaengnim, especially since the players more often than not called him 'ahjussi' or just Nang-nim. It didn't take long for him to give you the bulk of the maintenance, the bats, the gloves, the cleats. You preferred that over laundry, even though you couldn't avoid that, especially when his back acted up.
You remember how the players watched you on your first day. Similar distrust and skepticism. You pushed the rolling laundry cart while each player dropped in his uniform. They seemed to be waiting for you to blush or avert your eyes at the exposed skin. You didn't stare, but you didn't blush either. Granted that you could appreciate eye candy, you weren't that flustered with naked torsos or legs. After years of putting up with high school players, you were pretty much desensitized.
"Oh…I do my own."
It's a soft voice. Not quiet persay, but it makes you think of a stuffed animal, snuggly and huggable.
Strange thought about a voice.
"You do your own…" you trail off as you look at him, and his uniform. He's handsome, most of the guys seem to be, but like his voice, his good looks seem softer. Warm brown hair, wavy and striking eyes.
"Jun's our resident cheerleader," the player next to him says cheerfully, knocking shoulders with Jun (?). Jun smiles, bright like the sun, nearly matching the player next to him.
You look at the long pants and top, same colors as the baseball uniforms. "Does it need special treatment?"
The cheerleader shakes his head. "No, but—"
"Toss it in. It's fine."
He blinks at you, as if he thinks you'll change your mind.
"Thank you," and tosses it with the rest of the uniforms. He turns back to his nook, giving you a glance at a small tattoo along his right shoulder blade. You can't distinguish it (something with whirls and script - pretty) and you've already stared too long.
You continue.
When you stop the cart by a senior player, Park someone, he says something oh so clever about laundry and the fact that you're female. You blink at him before pushing the cart toward the other side of the locker room. There's some guffaws and snickers.
It's not new. You don't like it, but it's not new.
"It's only because Park can't do his own laundry and still has to go home on the weekends so his Eomma can do it for him."
You snap your head to the new voice. Handsome, deep-set brown eyes, messy black hair. He's smiling with unbelievably rosy lips.
"Seungcheol," he says to you.
You nod, unsure how to respond other than to give your name. The broad-chested player, shirtless, drops his uniform into the cart before winking at you.
He repeats your name. "Pretty."
It's a miracle that you get out of that locker room without flushing (but it happens the moment you're safe.)
If you didn't love baseball so much, you might have quit after that eavesdropping experience from hell. But not even Choi Seungcheol, current captain in your second year of university, can dull the beauty of watching a baseball streak past the fence, or Chan's incredible catch in left field against NCT's hardest hitter Mark Lee.
You love the game. Your mom told you that your father had often played the game on the radio, holding up the speaker right next to your mom's swollen womb. She'd found out she was pregnant when the Korean Series was in Game Seven, and your father was convinced it was a sign of future greatness.
Was there disappointment when you were born a girl? A little. But Korea had a fantastic women's softball team, so you weren't out of the running as of yet.
However.
When you were six and had been 'playing' tee ball for two years, you didn't need your father to break the news to you that it was a delusion to hope to play in high school, college, or professionally. You knew it by your coach's expression every time you swung and missed for the tenth time, every time you tried to steal a base (not allowed in tee ball), every time you threw your cap to the ground to 'discuss' the ref's call with the ref. You knew that even at age six, you should do better, that your motor skills should have better capabilities.
You knew.
Perhaps someone else would have chosen a new direction, a new sport, hobby or passion. Your mom took you to dance lessons, sat you with a piano teacher, started you early on cram school.
You tolerated these deviations a little. You weren't exactly a rebellious child. But you were stubborn. You indulged your mother but you always ended up back where you belonged.
Baseball.
By the time you were at university, you had cemented your career path into the realm of sports management. The advisor stuck with you brought up several other options, based on your exam scores, but you denied, politely, each one.
"Why did you take it?"
"I thought Poetry would be easy. I mean, they're short, not long novels, right?" You know it's a dumb excuse, but you really didn't think it'd be this impossible. Having a 200 level literature class required for your minor in communications is heresy in your opinion. But your academic advisor shows you no mercy.
Not that you expected it, but one can hope.
Binna (you're still surprised that she wants to keep rooming with you after first year) shakes her head at you.
"You can't drop it."
"I know. They lulled me into a false sense of security starting with Robert Frost and Yun Dongju at the beginning."
"Go to the tutoring cener, they probably can help you."
"Ugh," you groan and let your head thump onto your dorm desk. "I hate looking stupid."
"You don't look stupid. Your grades say you are stupid."
You throw a pencil at her as she laughs.
When you enter the Art building, you do so with caution. You pass fellow students, some probably your age and year, and yet there is nothing in common. Their style, the way they talk, how they carry a sketchpad and fancy pencil in hand…nothing like you with your one bag that carries your laptop and musculoskeletal text book (because taking classes for sports medicine was also a terrific idea on your part).
Binna had wanted to go get a bite together and study after her painting class, so here you were. In unfamiliar and terrifying territory.
Class should be over, but you don't see your gregarious roommate anywhere. You pop your head into the studio to see the back of her head, in front of someone you don't know. But the way you can tell how fast she's talking and general vibrating of her body, you can guess who it is.
Minghao, the gorgeous art TA.
"Binna?" You take one timid step into the room, the smells of paint and some kind of cleaner accosting your nose. You sneeze then furtively look around to see if anyone is offended by your unbelonging presence.
Your roommate hears your sneeze, not her name (figures) and turns before grinning.
"Hey!" She waves you over and you wonder why people feel the need to include you in conversations when you have nothing to contribute. She loops her arm once you're in striking distance. "Minghao, this is my roommate."
The TA nods at you, face not really welcoming, but not repulsed either.
"Wait, that reminds me. She's failing Poetry and I was wondering if you knew anyone who might wanna help her out?"
You might kill Binna.
"I'm not failing," you mutter.
"Close enough. Most of your friends are humanties and arts, right?" Binna is solely focused on Minghao and you can't fault her for making use of anything to keep talking to her crush. You just wish it wasn't you and your lack of academic prowess.
Minghao tilts his head to the side as though pondering Binna's uncalled-for request.
"Actually…" he trails off when someone comes from the other side of the room. You had only noticed the easels, the visual cacophony donning the walls of current and past students' artistic expressions. But there's a curtain that separates the main part of the classroom from what looks like an alcove, an office space perhaps for the professor.
But it's not the professor pushes aside the curtain and walks out.
It's the cheerleader, Jun.
You glance away, embarrassed to be a part of this conversation now with someone from your baseball world. Even if you and he rarely interact or speak. He always says thank you when you gather his uniform, but there's no reason for the assistant equipment manager to make conversation with the cheer team.
If you had to tell the truth, you were intimidated by Jun, Raon and Dohee (his counterparts). People that pretty tended to be unwelcoming to people like you, so you avoided as a precaution. Raon and Dohee never left their uniforms for you to launder and you never sought them out to offer.
And you've never forgotten that laughter.
"I was gonna say that Jun's solidly a Literature major. He likes poetry."
"It's a minor," Jun says, wrapping his arm around Minghao's shoulders casually.
"Not the way you take each and every class offered."
"They're fun." Jun smiles winsomely at his friend who huffs at him, but it's goodnatured, you can tell. There's an ease between them that tells of years of friendship, even if they're both only third years.
"Sure they are," Minghao answers easily. Jun winks at him, coy and flirtatious before turning to you.
"Hi there."
You wave, like an idiot.
"You two know each other?" Minghao asks.
"She's on staff. With the team."
Minghao nods and you wonder, as an artsy person, what he thinks of your sports bent. You also appreciate that Jun says nothing about you doing his laundry. You do much more (equipment manager includes all matter of bats, gloves, helmets etc), but it seems that's the only thing the players ever say about you (That's a bit unfair to several members of the team, but for generalization purposes, a laundress is basically what half or more of the team sees you as).
"I can help…if you want. I took that class and the prof likes me." Jun is smiling at you, practically the same smile he uses on his friend.
Why?
"Uh…I wouldn't want to put you out."
Binna pinches your side and heavens favored, you do not externally show the jolt it gives you.
"She'd be so grateful. As would I, who has to hear her tangents about how none of it makes sense more often than you'd expect."
You think about pinching her back, but she would not handle it gracefully and bring about all the attention to your 'abuse.'
"It's not problem." He slips his phone out of the back pocket of his jeans that hang on for dear life. You force your eyes from the sliver of skin showing between hem and waistband. "Give me your number, I'll text and we can set up a time. What poem are you working on now?"
You shrug because you do not remember, handling his phone so you don't get your fingerprints on it (you feel grubby next to these three: Binna in her wrap dress that should seem too formal for class but her painted shoes make it work, Minghao in black ripped jeans and a t-shirt, but with a bandana tied in a belt loop and long hair pulled-half back—he looks like a sixties beatnik artist, and Jun in those low hanging jeans and t-shirt that looks like it shrunk in the dryer). You type your number in, hoping no one notices that you delete a couple times, highly anxious so you can't remember your number. They're all chatting about something that you can't follow when you hand his phone back.
"Thanks," you manage to get out. Jun's smile widens and except for when he's leading the chants, you've never seen him like this. In the locker room, he's subdued, quiet, almost unnoticeable among the larger personalities (and egos) of the players.
It's a nice smile.
"It'll be fun."
"Yeah, Jun loves to share all his useless knowledge."
Jun laughs before clacking heads with Minghao who gives him an unimpressed look (but his eyes are amused).
You tug on Binna's arm, hoping you can make a quick getaway. Your roommate is staring with big ole heart eyes at her TA.
Subtlety is not Cho Binna.
"We'll, uh, see you guys," you mutter, again pulling, this time harder, on Binna's arm.
"Yeah, see ya. Thanks again Minghao, Jun," she effuses, finally coming with you.
You wait until you're way out of earshot:
"I hate you."
"You love me."
"You used my failures as a student to talk more with your crush."
"I did. And I would support you if you did the same." She is unbothered.
"I don't have any crushes."
"Yes, well, that's your issue. Not mine."
After your last crush, you took a firm hold on yourself and decided not to crush again. Certainly not anyone related to baseball.
"I don't even know Jun, he could be a jerk." He probably is.
"He is not a jerk. I've drawn him twice now, and he's really sweet."
You pull up short. "Naked?"
Binna's haughty expression is a facade, you know it, but it still makes you roll your eyes.
"Why would it matter? It's art, not porn."
"It's just weird. If you've seen my soon to be poetry tutor without clothes."
"Would rather see Minghao—" She cuts off laughing when you break away and jog several steps in front of her, effectively ending that line of conversation.
You tap your pencil against the open page of your poetry textbook (still expensive and weighty despite poetry being a 'short' medium), half-looking across the lawn for the baseball cheerleader/poetry tutor.
He'd texted you that very evening about a good time to meet. He was well aware of when baseball practice was, so you couldn't really use that as a fake excuse.
You don't have to like him and he doesn't have to like you for the tutoring to be successful. As long as you don't say anything about that conversation and he doesn't, well, then, it's old news. You just need to pass this class.
Your brain meanders off of your impending tutoring session and onto duties for tomorrow's practice. Mingyu, true to form, stumbled into the only muddy puddle on the field after the rain days ago. You've treated his uniform, but are doubtful that it'll come clean when you wash it.
"Hi!"
You jump (observational skills lacking today it seems) at the super close voice. You barely noticed the shadow he cast across the table you'd commandeered in the quad.
Jun is holding two takeaway cups.
"I got two drinks; a flat white and a pumpkin spice. I like both, so I figure one of those could be your type of coffee."
You're staring at him with your mouth partially open, like a buffoon. It's not entirely your fault. The pink of his tshirt is the brightest pink you've ever encountered outside of the Barbie doll aisle at the toy store. Possibly brighter.
"Do you drink coffee?" he asks, sitting down across from you with grace you envy. Especially with a bag slung over one shoulder and a cup in each hand. "I just assumed—"
"I do, um, thank you. I'll take the pumpkin spice if you're sure."
He sets (presumably the pumpkin spice one) in front of your text book.
"It's completely fine. I promise." His smile's brightness matches his shirt's and you wish you'd thought to bring sunglasses.
"Thanks again. For doing this. I feel like Binna kind of bullied you into it."
"She strikes me as someone who is very…proactive when she wants something," he says easily, sipping his coffee and letting out a satisfied sigh. "Caffeine, nectar of the gods."
"That's Binna. Very…forthright."
Jun's smile turns mischievous. "And she wants Hao."
It takes you a second to realize who he's talking about, Binna only every calls him by his full first name.
"Oh, um…" You don't exactly want to out her if she prefers not to have the rejection option. For all you know, Jun and Minghao might be more than just friends.
"It's not hard to see."
"Does—he know?"
"Yeah."
"Oh."
Jun chuckles. "He moves as fast as a glacier in personal matters. All he cares about is art, classes, his family, and his friends. In that order." He points to your textbook. "Ready then?"
"I guess." You open the textbook to the most recent poem that you have a quiz on tomorrow. "I appreciate you doing this. I imagine you have enough to do with cheering, the art class modeling, and your own classes."
"We're all busy, arent we?" he says, brushing off your 'thank you.' "You just have to make time. Besides, we're…kinda teammates."
You blink at him. "I suppose. I don't really do much for you or Raon and Dohee."
"You wash my uniform every time."
"That's not impressive." You look down at the poem, eyes going over the words again like it'll make sense.
"I've always admired you."
Your head snaps up from the anthology. You imagine the dumbest expression is on your face, but you can't help it. You never expected to hear that from anyone, let alone him.
"You do? I mean, did?"
"I do." He leans forward, not in a seductive way, but like he enjoys being closer to you. "A lot of people wouldn't want your job. It's not exactly glamorous."
You roll your eyes. "I don't think even glamorous jobs are all that glamorous."
He laughs, a light and breezy thing. It's unfamiliar to your ear. "You have to do their laundry. I know what they smell like after a game. All too well. It's beyond disgusting."
You can't help wrinkling your nose. "I always want to plug my nose with something. I'm kinda desensitized, but some days it's bad."
"But you still do it."
You rest your arms on the open book, half-covering Tennyson. "The uniforms, the bats, the balls, the gloves…all of it needs to be in the best condition."
"So they won't complain? Or blame a bad hit on you?"
You know who he's talking about. It makes you shift in your seat. Early in your time, one of the seniors, now gone, definitely blamed the care of his glove for a fumbled catch.
It hadn't been your fault, but you'd still taken the criticism because sometimes it's easier.
"It's not about them."
"It's not?"
"It's about the game."
He rests his chin in his hand, eyes direct. It's disconcerting how focused he can get. "You really love it?"
No one usually questions this. You're surrounded by baseball players and coaches and staff. Your long-suffering roommate doesn't get it, but has never asked. She assumes it's about the players.
It can be, but not in the way she's thinking.
You nod to his most likely rhetorical question.
"Why?" Okay, so not rhetorical.
"Why?"
"I mean…I get enjoying sports, but you don't really seem interested in our football team or even our state-winning volleyball team."
"I went to a match last year," you mumble. Freshman year had had you attempting to do social things. The campus was full of opportunities to meet people, try new things, and in general be someone new.
The attempt didn't last fall semester.
He's smiling at you, not patronizing or condescending. Like he enjoys whatever you're saying.
"I just like what I like."
He taps your textbook. "And you don't like this?"
You know you're pouting, but you can't help it. "I don't see what this…war poem has to do with me. Or anything I will ever encounter in my life."
"Well," he begins, finally leaning back, but stretching way up revealing more inches of his torso. It's not chilly yet, it's summer's last gasp, but you already anticipate the impending briskness with your baggy long-sleeve sweatshirt. "It is about a battle. But it's more than that." He returns to touching the poem in your textbook. "Look at the numbers. You're good with numbers, right?"
You nod, still skeptical, as you reread about whatever a light brigade is. He hands you a highlighter. It's neon pink.
"Doesn't seem to fit the vibe of the poem."
"I bet Tennyson loved pink," he says easily. "Mark each mention of numbers. What do you notice?"
"It's only 'six hundred'."
"Now look at the words around each mention."
You do so, lips twisted with mild distaste.
"'Left of the six hundred,'" he quotes. "They didn't all make it."
"So?"
"So….how often do you go into a situation, already knowing you're gonna lose?"
"That's stupid."
"Is it? Or is it brave?"
"Stupid."
"So don't play another team that's so much better than yours?"
You sit back and cross your arms. "Playing a better team usually makes you better. But this is war. People die..and…that's stupid."
He doesn't say anything immediately, head tilted to the side, like a cat judging you. "Okay." He points to another line. "Sabres…you know what those are?"
"I'm not stupid. Swords."
"I don't think you're stupid," he says quickly. "Soonyoung would have said it was a tiger."
You laugh, knowing that's exactly what the shortstop would think. "Are you close with the team? I know you have to use their locker room, but I never see you with them other than that."
His smile freezes before dropping. "I wouldn't say close. Some of them are friendlier than others."
"Soonyoung."
"Obviously." He grins, some of the light in his dark eyes returning. "Mingyu. Chan. They're nice."
You hear a lot in the silence. "Not any of the others?"
He meets your eyes. "Sabres…swords, as you correctly named them. Swords against gunners." He indicates line 29.
"Wait, what?" you look back at your textbook. "They didn't have guns?"
"No."
"That's…more stupid."
"That was their orders."
"Screw their orders. They should have ran…um, retreated." You follow toward the end of the poem.
"They do. See the repeated 'Cannon' lines?" He continues when you nod. "Notice the change in directions."
"They're leaving." You huff a sigh. "How'd-you know all this?"
"Well, I've taken this class before. But also…" he pauses, thinking. "I like them? I mean, it just takes time and thought to figure out what's going on. I like doing that. Like a puzzle, or scavenger game. I like trying to figure stuff out, especially when it's not obvious."
"Weird."
His smile is a flash, but it strikes you that it's not as happy as it should be. "I guess."
You want to say something, that 'weird' isn't a bad thing, that you appreciate that he is good at this because you are definitely better off than an hour ago with this poem before he sat down.
But you don't because he's moved on to talking about the last stanza. But you think about the dropped smile after he's left and you're still sitting at the table in the quad. You watched him walk away in those jeans and short hot pink t-shirt for longer than you'd care to admit.
And how his laugh didn't sound like any of the laughter you heard in the locker room that day.
"The words…" you groan. "The words are…not words."
"They absolutely are words. Just not the ones we use now." Jun is laughing at you. You can't blame him because you are being petulant to the extreme. "You know what, just listen, okay? I bet you understand more than you think."
And so he begins to read the fourteen lines by one John Keats. You try to focus, but you zone out a bit. Jun's voice is nice to listen to, not bracing or strident, or combative. It rolls like waves, gentle.
"What do you notice?"
"It rhymes."
He half-grins. "Yeah. What's the scheme?"
"Alternating lines. every four then it changes." You pause, looking over it. "Except the last six?"
"Exactly, which goes against the rhyme scheme for a sonnet."
"Okay, yeah, fourteen lines."
"Other than the title spelling it out, what do you think it's about?"
You stare at it for a lot of seconds. "Honestly? If it wasn't called 'To Sleep' I'd think it was about death. I mean…the whole final line—'casket'."
He nods. "You know Keats died at twenty-five years old?"
"I think I read that in the introduction."
"He also, through his letters, seemed to think he would die young. A lot of his family died of the same disease, tuberculosis. So…maybe it is about death and not sleep. What else makes you think that?"
"Embalmer."
"Good. What about poppy?"
"What about it? It's a flower."
"It's the flower that makes opium, which they used to treat sickness back then."
You stare at him. "That's…that's horrible."
"Yeah, it was the only way they knew how to mitigate the pain." He stares back. "Opium is a downer, meaning is slows things down, whereas something like cocaine is a upper, speeds things up. So opium and sleep and death…"
"All peaceful, but not."
He cocks his head to the side. "What do you mean?"
"Well, opium might make you slow down, but its deadly, right?"
"Certainly can be and is addictive which doesn't help."
"Sleep can be peaceful, but often not. People have nightmares, night terrors, tossing and turning, just can't rest."
"And death?"
"Its not peaceful. Even if someone goes 'peacefully.'" You even do the air quotation marks with your fingers. "It's not peaceful. It's still loss. And that rips a hole into those who are left."
You don't notice how he watches you while you close the textbook and recap your highlighter (he brought you your own this session, a beautiful serene blue) and start to pack up.
"You okay?" he asks after a moment.
"Yeah. I just…I remembered I need to take care of some stuff." You finally meet his eyes. "Thank you for your help. I think I'll be okay on the quiz next week."
"I think you'll be just fine."
You shouldn't have told Binna that you passed that quiz because now she's got your phone, texting Jun about it and that has somehow elicited an invitation to go out with he, Dohee, Raon, Minghao, and some guys named Seungkwan and Seokmin. All artsy students to your understanding.
"No fucking way."
"Come on. You never hang out with my friends."
"I don't hang out with anyone. Except you."
"Yeah, that's for your therapist to dive into."
"I don't have—"
"But you could," she says and goes to her closet. "Come on. I've been to one party with the baseball team." You wince even though she doesn't mean anything by it. But it was that night. even though that was this past spring, it still haunts you.
Probably because the last sex you had was disappointing and…unfulfilling.
"Wear this." She tosses something at you and you grab it because you don't want to argue, or maybe you want something different.
Who knows?
The bar that you ride to, in an Uber with Binna, is one you don't know, which is unsurprising as you're not a big drinker, even less when it costs you money, but still you've heard enough from classmates and the team to be familiar with names of the local watering holes.
But Cheers doesn't sound like a place anyone of your age would readily spend time socially.
"It's great. It's where most of the art students hang out. I've been hoping for an invite."
"I won't fit in."
"Enough alcohol, everyone belongs."
True words.
Binna easily gets a pass from the bouncer who doesn't seem to even care that you might not be of age (you are, but still). Inside are splashes of color, music you've never heard (but it's nice and not too overpowering), and people.
So many people, but despite that, it's not impossible to keep up with Binna who heads to the bar. She orders two shots of something. You try to decline, but she isn't dissuaded. You knock it back and ask the bartender for a lemonade as she gets something you've never heard of. When it comes out, you take a sniff since she offers you a sip and you think the alcoholic fumes singe your eyebrows.
Binna plans to party.
"I'll stick to the lemonade."
She rolls her eyes, but doesn't protest. She grabs your hand and drags you away from the bar. You see some familiar faces, or are they just familiar from the alcohol burning in your stomach and through your body, in the flashing lights? You don't know but you're happy to let Binna lead this race.
"Found you!"
Jun jumps up to hug Binna; a tight, real hug before he turns to you.
You have no idea how she found them. Maybe she does have Minghao radar because there he is, leaning against the wall, looking oh so artsy and broody. He's listening to a guy you don't know, jabber on about something, incredibly expressive. You see Raon and Dohee sitting on a couch with another unknown guy, all laughing.
It shouldn't be intimidating, but you are tempted to run home.
"Hi."
You look up at Jun, decked in long sleeve shirt, the neck of it defines the word 'plunging'. His hair, that you've never considered long, is half pulled up and he's wearing glasses.
"Hi," you remember to reply. He's grinning widely at you. You wonder if he's drunk to be so happy to see you.
"I knew you'd do well."
What? Oh the quiz. Binna's excuse for all this.
"I wouldn't have without your help."
He leans closer and you repeat your words. You're sure the flush on his face is from alcohol and the warm room, not your gratitude.
"You look nice," he says, glancing at the skirt and top Binna forced on you. It's by no means too revealing, but as you live in work out clothes, or your staff uniform, it's practically a costume.
"Binna," you explain.
He grins again and clinks plastic cups with you.
"You look good, too," you blurt out, unable to look away from all the collarbone you can see. Why is that more affecting than those cropped t-shirts you see him in so much? "You always do," you add in case he takes offense.
"I do? Thank you," he hugs you to his side. If he notices how you freeze at his touch, he doesn't show it. "Come, meet everyone."
You recover though he hasn't let go of you, moving his arm from your waist to over your shoulders. You remind yourself that you've seen him do this with Minghao.
You wave awkwardly at Raon and Dohee, who wave back far more gracefully and excitedly than you did.
"It's so fun to see you out!" Dohee says loudly to be heard above the din of people and music. You shrug in response, unsure of what to say.
"That's Seokmin, he's a theatre major," Jun says, mouth so close to your ear (presumably so that you can hear him) that his breath tickles. You shiver and he tightens his hold. "You won't be cold long," he says before introducing the other guy. "Seungkwan who is Mass Communications and basically never shuts up."
"Fuck you, Wen." Accompanied by a corresponding hand gesture, and a big smile.
Jun blows him a kiss. "If you ever want to meet people, just tag along with him."
"So never do that, got it."
He chuckles at your retort as you sip your lemonade. "Come on…" He leads you to sit at the small table in front of his co-cheerleaders and Seokmin. You're fairly content to stay there, listening to them chat about the university's theatre department (possibly more drama than the baseball team, so that's affirming). Jun doesn't leave your side, seated next to you, arm brushing yours every time he moves or gestures to add to the conversation.
At some point, he taps your empty cup. "I'll get you another. What is it?"
"Just lemonade," you say. "And you don't—"
"Just lemonade." He smiles. "Not a drinker?"
"Not if Binna is going hard." You point toward your roommate who has somehow convinced both Seungkwan and Minghao to go and dance with her on the dance floor. "Seems safer to not."
"Lemonade it is." He takes your cup and walks back toward the bar. You watch him go before turning back to see three sets of eyes on you.
"What? Why…why are we looking at me?" You stutter at the sudden attention.
"Jun was very excited you decided to come tonight," Raon says, smile all-knowing.
"Oh. I mean, I did do well on the quiz because of him."
"That's not it," Dohee interjects. "He likes you."
Seokmin starts to cough. "You just fucking outed him, Hee. Why would you do that?"
"It's so obvious," she laughs. "And it's cute. Like he's the sweetest guy to ever exist—"
"Hey!" But Seokmin's protest is ignored.
"And you're like the most normal person he's ever been into."
"Normal?"
"Yeah, like not high-maintenance, or drama-ful or anything like that." Dohee reaches over and squeezes your knee, casual and reassuring. "You are so much better to have around than Nang-nim. Chan loves you."
Jun plops down at that, holding out the lemonade. You take it and try not to look at him. His friends could be wrong after all.
"Chan loves who?" he asks, offer the other cups of alcohol he purchased.
"Our impressive assistant equipment manager," Raon singles you out.
"That's because you helped him with his batting stance, right? That's why he's hitting better."
You can't help but stare at him now. "How…how did you know that?"
His grin and eyes are too warm. "I was checking something with where we stand on top of the dugout. RaRa nearly tripped and fell off the last time, so I was making sure the maintenance request was actually carried out. Saw you two out there. You were instructing him, weren't you?"
RaRa is such a cute nickname is your first thought. Your second is that you had no idea anyone knew of your impromptu coaching session with Chan when he'd first joined the team. He was a first year, eager to impress, but while his fielding skills were terrific, he lacked at bat.
You noticed, you don't know why no one else seemed to. So one day, when you were searching for a missing glove (Mingyu or Vernon, you can't remember) after practice, you found Chan out in the batting cage, swinging and hitting, but the ball not going as far as you're sure he wanted. So you wandered over and made a suggestion about how he stood. He listened. And he hit better.
It wasn't rocket science.
"I'm not…players aren't supposed to be coached by anyone else. Please don't—" You can't lose your job. What would you do at university if you didn't work on the team?
Study only?
Jun regards you for several moments, eyes dark in the minimal light. You want to look away because he is almost too pretty to look at for long, but you don't; hoping he understands how important it is.
"Lips are sealed."
You let out the breath you were holding. "Thank you."
"Enough talk, we're here for a good time, right?" Raon speaks up, breaking the gaze that Jun has on you. Raon grabs Seokmin by the wrist. "Dancing, darling."
He rolls his eyes but follows her, grabbing Dohee's hand to drag her out as well. Dohee in turn, tries to grab for Jun, but he dodges her hands.
"Finishing this," he shouts as they disappear toward the crowd that writhes and gyrates. He turns to you once they're gone. "Wanna dance?" He sips his drink, eyes lasered on you.
"I…I'm not exactly coordinated. I was a pretty poor tee-ball player." You gulp more of your lemonade.
"Well, that has nothing to do with dancing," he says casually. "Dancing is about looking ridiculous and doing it confidently."
"Confidence is also not my best attribute."
"Bullshit," he retorts, setting down his mostly empty cup to lean closer. You swallow more lemonade. "You walk through that locker room with the carriage of a queen. You are more confident than the rest of us."
"A facade." Maybe that one shot was more tongue-loosening than you thought.
"Fake it till you make it, huh?" His eyes drop once before he stands and offers his hand. "One dance. In celebration of your successful quiz."
"A celebration of your tutoring skills."
He shrugs one shoulder. "I'll dance to that." He takes your hand even as you're standing, about to find a good excuse (restroom maybe?), and leads you away from the safety of the couch and table. You stumble to keep up with his long legs, your eyes dropping to how his pants fit and then you chastise yourself.
You've seen him in less than this even if you weren't meaning to. The locker room was a veritable menu of male bodies of various types and sizes. You've never thought about him like that. Ever.
It's definitely that one shot Binna made you drink.
Your nose wrinkles at the smell of so many people and perfumes, but Jun spins you so you're in a small circle with the people you know. Your eyes find Binna's, who is sporting some moves with Seungkwan, while Minghao watches her passively (or interestedly, it's really impossible to tell with him). Binna is drunk enough that she doesn't seem surprised at your presence in a dance circle (more almond-shaped really).
Seokmin is happily sandwiched between Raon and Dohee, though you'd argue his moves are more impressive than theirs. You didn't know men could move their hips like that.
Jun's hands fall to your shoulders, paused as though waiting. You don't shrug him off, so his hands slide down your arms to your fingers. He takes one and spins you back round to face him.
"I'm really not good at this," you tell him again.
He taps your forehead with his index finger. "Stop worrying and thinking so much. Close your eyes." The last sentence, his mouth is at your ear so you can hear him above the music. You nod and do just that because not looking at him seems like a much better idea than looking at him so close. He lifts your hands to drape them around his neck, his own falling to your hips.
It is easier to move to the thumping bass with your eyes closed. It's easier not to worry about how you might look if you can't see anyone watching.
He says your name, his mouth touching your ear again; you shiver. "You're better coordinated than you think."
You risk opening your eyes to look up at him. The glitter around his eyes and on his cheekbones catch the strobing lights and he looks otherworldly. You forget what he's just said and stare at him for much too long. His smile turns embarrassed and you quickly move in his arms to face the group.
Binna mouths something at you, and you don't really know what she says, but you know you'll hear about it later (you do and it's all about how Jun's hands were on your hips and waist, and how perfect you two looked together; but Binna is drunker than you've seen her so you chalk her observations up to alcohol). The song morphs into another and you move away from the group, miming that you need water. Jun is reluctantly to let of your hand and once you're away from them, from him, you let out a deep breath.
You are never telling Binna that being near Jun makes it hard to breathe.
Can't meet today
everything okay?
sick
You look at your messages for several seconds. Binna pokes you with her bottle of nail polish.
"What's up?"
"Jun's sick."
"Oh that sucks."
You text back: I'm so sorry. Do you need anything?
you're sweet. i'm good. hao fed me.
"Are Minghao and Jun roommates?"
"Yes. Since they were first years. I think the school thought putting two exchange students together would help with the transition to Korean Uni." Binna blows on a polished nail.
"Do you know where they live?"
"Why?" She raises her eyebrows. "Why do you think I'd know that?"
"Really?"
She laughs effortlessly. When you grow up, you hope to be as carefree as Binna seems to be.
"I thought I could bring him some soup. Or something."
Binna stares at you for a few seconds.
"What?"
"Do you like him?"
"What? No. He's…kind of a teammate."
"So you'd do this for anyone?"
"Well…anyone I've exchanged more than five words with."
"Valid." She still doesn't look away. "I do know where they live."
"Of course you do."
When you knock on the door, you have to set down one of the two bags you're carrying. You're actually bending down to pick it up when the door opens and there stands Minghao, bottom half of his face covered with a mask.
"Hi."
He raises an eyebrow. "You here for Jun?"
"Yeah, I figured you couldn't cook for him every meal, so I brought um…soup and other stuff."
You're pretty sure Minghao doesn't hate you, or even dislikes you. You probably don't even enter his mind unless you're right in front of him. But his resting face (mostly eyes and eyebrows due to the mask) is blank with a touch of annoyance. Binna thinks it's HOTTT, but you realize that you like when you can see what a person is thinking or feeling.
Someone who smiles.
"Come in," Minghao steps back and then grabs from a stack on the little table in the entryway. "Wear a mask. No idea what he's come down with, but better safe than sorry."
You take the mask and slip it on as you set your hoarde of 'get better' items on the kitchen counter. It's more a suite than a regular dorm room and you hope you get lucky as an upperclassroom to have an actual kitchenette and living area, tiny as they are.
"He's um…if he's asleep, I can just leave…"
One of the doors past the sagging couch opens and Jun is standing there, looking the most un-Jun-like you've ever seen him. There's a lack of pink, minus his nose being quite red. He's wearing baggy orange sweats that look like they belong to someone taller and wider than him, and a threadbare faded green tshirt.
He says your name, and it's hoarse though delighted.
"Go back to bed, you moron," Minghao monotones. "You'll hate yourself if you get her sick."
"Hey Jun," you begin, walking over with your two bags. "I grabbed some medicine for you, ginger chicken soup, and lots of cough drops. I didn't know what kind you liked, so I got a couple."
He's still leaning on the doorframe, less like a male lead in a romance, and more like someone who might collapse if they let go.
"You…" he starts coughing and you back away from the coffee table and sofa. He leans his head on his arm. He looks miserable.
"I'm guessing you won't make tomorrow's game."
He makes a face, but doesn't speak. He's probably wanting to avoid a coughing fit.
"Will Raon and Dohee be okay without you?"
He shrugs before texting on his phone. Yours pings a second later.
can you watch out for them? sometimes ppl are shit at away games.
"Of course." You watch him a few seconds longer, how his hair is matted to his forehead, damp from sweat and you feel for him.
It's not fun to be sick. Especially away from home. And he is really far from home.
"Feel better…and you know, message me if you need anything else."
He smiles the smallest smile. It's happy, as much as he can be feeling like he does. But it makes something tug in your chest to see it.
He mouths thank you before stumbling back into his bedroom, the door not closing all the way, so you see him flop on his bed, his feet covered in pink socks.
How odd that you've danced, club-danced with him, but seeing his pink socks feels more intimate.
When you turn around to leave, Minghao is watching you.
"Um, if you need anything for him, like if you get stuck here or whatever…uh, let me know? Or Binna?"
He nods slowly, eyes not moving away.
"Okay, see you," you hurriedly say and open the door to leave.
"See you," and he says your name, which you realize is probably the very first time he has. Why does that feel like you have received his approval?
You see out Raon and Dohee once you arrive at the away team locker rooms. Dohee laughs when she opens the door for you.
"You know you don't have to knock. You are one of us."
You know she means your gender, but the 'one of us' phrasing feels especially kind.
"That…I wouldn't want to assume."
She laughs again as you walk in to see Raon straightening her top.
"I just wanted to see if you guys were okay. Without Jun?"
"It's annoying. Neither one of us likes having to used the megaphone, but…" Raon shrugs. "Hao said he was pretty sick."
"I saw him yesterday, he looks like the least Jun-like I've ever seen him."
Dohee and Raon share a look before turning back to you.
"You saw him yesterday?"
"Uh, I went by. We were supposed to have a tutoring session, but he said he was sick."
"So you just went by?"
All of a sudden you feel like you're in a courtroom, on the witness stand. You half-expect to hear 'objection'.
"I brought some stuff…" You feel unequiped to continue. "He asked that I look out for you guys. So…that's all."
They look at each other then at you again and it's inevitable, like an anvil falling in a Looney Tunes episode. You should never have walked in here.
When Jun wakes much much later, there's a number of texts and notifications on his phone. He squints at it for a few seconds, assessing how he's feeling and if looking at a screen will induce any nausea (as it did yesterday).
Honestly, he feels pretty good. Not like, run a lap or two (like he's even want to do that), but not like 'fall across his bed like a fainting Regency woman' either.
He'll call it a win.
There's a knock on his door, but it opens before he can croak out a 'come in'. Hao peers in, still masked.
"Alive?"
"More so than yesterday."
"Did you get the video?"
After being friends with Hao since first year of uni, Jun believes he can read the enigmatic man decently well. It's harder with a mask covering half his face, but the sparkle, slight but there, in his eyes warns Jun that something good or terrible has happened (honestly, knowing Hao for over two years, as roommates, does so little to uncover what the man is thinking).
"Video?" Jun's voice is on par with a life-long smoker's at this point.
Hao plops on his bed, opens his phone and places it right in front of Jun's eyes.
It takes many seconds (his brain is foggy with remnants of illness and medications) for Jun to understand the scene playing out on his roommate's phone. He immediately clocks Dohee and Raon, standing on top the dugout, dressed in their away game uniforms; the motions and choreo so familiar to him. The person to the right of Dohee is Mingyu, who is on the injured list currently for a possible concussion (it didn't happen during the last game, but in the locker room after practice when Mingyu decided to try and film the most recent TikTok dance challenge and failed miserably due to a bench, discarded cleats and Chan doing the dance better; this all occurred before Jun contracted the plague), standing with his arms crossed, staring down the patrons in the seats.
While Mingyu is new to the cheer lineup, that is not the change that shocks Jun the most. No, it's the person in the middle, his normal spot when he's not dying. This person is wearing his uniform top, though the trousers are definitely not his.
"Is that—"
"I got a message from Dohee, you probably have one too, though you've been sleeping."
"I'm in recovery right now."
"Sure," Hao takes his phone back, presumably looking for the message while Jun stumbles to opne his phone and see his notifications.
"It's on the team's instagram page?" Jun says hoarsely. "They never put us on there, or rarely at least."
"Hey Hao, wake up Junnie and tell him his girlfriend might just take his place. She isn't quite the peppy sort, but she does the cheers really well," Hao reads then plays the video again, this time with sound.
Jun's rarely heard you speak loudly, or yell or shout. Sometimes you raise your voice in the locker room to be heard because it's chaos in there, but it's barely more than a normal speaking voice volume.
The megaphone amplifies, obviously, but you are doing really really well. Your movements are stilted, though he doubts you even got the chance to learn them prior to participating in this. But by the end of the video, which has been spliced to include most of the cheers, probably cutting down two hours of footage to a minute, you move much more naturally, showing a little of the rhythm he saw in you the night at the club.
And you're smiling.
At first, it's a forced smile. One he's seen many times. But, probably with the infectious silliness of being flanked by Dohee and Raon, your smile grows, both warmer and in size.
It must be the medication, but he thinks he likes you wearing his uniform top despite it not fitting you in the slightest.
"Why did…" Jun coughs, covering his mouth and rolling in the opposite direction from where Hao sits.
"Why did she fill in your spot? I dunno. Guess you'll have to talk to her." Hao starts out of the room before pausing at the door. "I ordered some chicken and ginger congee from the place in the city."
Jun pushes himself up. "You are the perfect man, Xu."
"Fuck off."
When you walk into the locker room before practice after the away game, the room turns silent. Which never happens, not since you were introduced back in the beginning.
"Um, here to check on any last minute equipment issues? Something we might have missed." You always do this. Come in before practice or a game, a secondary check that even in your and Nang's meticulous surveying the items needed for the players, something could be missed. Sometimes there is nothing. Sometimes a player sees a crack or dent or missing cleat. It's never hostile.
The atmosphere feels hostile today.
"You know we lost," Seungcheol begins, breaking the brittle quiet.
You nod. You might not have been going back and forth with bats and gloves, but you were still very aware of the score and its resolution.
"Why do you think that is?"
You want to answer. You're know that the Boyz were a stronger and younger team, primarily made of up underclassmen who had a lot to prove. Also, the team had been without Mingyu due to the incident with his head and the bench, and that loss would make the team struggle.
But you rightly assumed that the captain's question was rhetorical.
"Because you decided you didn't need to be doing the job you were brought on for. No, you're up in the stands, playing at cheerleader. What the fuck?"
You hear a couple grumbles, echoing his statement.
"Nang-nim was there—"
"Shut it, first year!"
You move instinctively between Seungcheol and Chan who had spoken up. It hasn't escaped your notice that the captain is hard on the baby of the team, who shows immense promise and works so hard. You also know that Chan has the making of being a leader in his own right, leading by example.
He is also, exceptionally more talented than Seungcheol is. You guess the captain probably knows this.
"I cleared my absence from game duties with both the coach and seonsaengnim. I don't see how my not being there contributes at all to the final score."
Seungcheol laughs; and unsurprisingly, Jeonghan and Joshua do as well. It's a mean, mean-spirited laugh; full of poisoned barbs.
"You don't think I couldn't tell the gloves hadn't been properly oiled? My cleats were weak? Were you so excited to be seen as a girl that you forgot your actual responsibilities for the team?" He scoffs. "You're like the worst kind of cleat chaser. In it for the nearness, but can't even offer something in return."
It feels like a punch to the gut. The very idea that anyone would compare you to a baseball groupie. You know that isn't true. You know that most of the team knows that isn't true. You know this, but it hurts anyway.
You are trying to come up with the right response, when you hear someone else come in the locker room.
"Wen, you're back!" Soonyoung would always misread the room and signals, but his happy reaction to Jun returning does distract you for a moment. You turn to see Jun, looking far more healthy than the last time you saw him, though still a bit peaked.
He doesn't go to his cubby but walks up to you, and something in his face tells you that he isn't unaware of the words just pronounced in this space.
"So…captain," Jun begins, standing next to you calmly. "You admit that you need her, but accuse her of being just a 'cleat chaser' when all she does is clean up after all of us, makes sure that you have what you need for every practice, every game. Doesn't make a lot of sense. Did you get hit on the head or something? Might need the team physician to check you out."
"This isn't your business, Wen. This is about the team."
"Oh, okay, so now she's a part of the team."
You can see Seungcheol's frustration at how Jun undoes his poorly constructed argument.
"She's staff and—"
"So not a cleat chaser. Man, you really have to get your story right."
The moment Seungcheol lurches forward, as though to hit Jun, or you, who knows at this point; Mingyu, Chan and even Soonyoung break in between, stopping Seungcheol's intention. He looks more surprised than angry at this point, though the narrowing of his eyes returns when he realizes that he's being blocked, by part of his own team.
Neither Jun nor you are physically intimidating, but Mingyu's height and build, Chan's wiry muscle, and Soonyoung's chaotic energy…all of it is enough to be threatening.
It doesn't hurt that the coaches enter right then to get the players on the diamond for practice. The entire team all trudges out; your little protective squad last to go. Chan squeezes your shoulder as he passes.
You fall to the nearest bench when all that remains is you and Jun.
"You okay?" he asks softly, moving to sit next to you. "I only caught the last bit, but—"
"I'm okay." You look at him, your heart slowly down as your body realizes it doesn't need to fight or flee. "Are you? You were really sick."
"I'm better." He clears his throat, betraying that he's not totally healed.
"You look better."
He says your name. "Are you really okay? That was…that was aggressive."
"I'm sort of numb, I guess," the words slip out before you can hold them back. " I've heard a version of that probably most of my life, though usually not so directly. That the only reason I do what I do is because of guys." You straighten your shoulders. "I appreciate the back up, but you have to spend more time with them in here. I don't want you to—"
He leans forward, his forehead knocking yours, but lingering there. "Stop worrying about me, I'm fine. I didn't grow up doing Wushu for nothing." He lifts his head.
Your expression shares your confusion.
"Martial arts." He flexes a bicep. "This isn't just from my nights at clubs or cheering."
It pulls a smile from you. "Noted."
He lets his arm fall before reaching to cover your hand. "He's an asshole."
"Yeah."
"He always has been, he just hides it better than others."
"I really have shit taste in men, huh."
You both freeze as you realize it's the first time you've acknowledged that you slept with Seungcheol to anyone other than Binna.
"No. If you had shit taste, you'd still be into him…you aren't still into him, are you?" Jun's been looking at your hands, his still holding yours. He looks up at the end of his question, eyes betraying the answer he wants to hear.
"No." You laugh, drawing your hand away, feeling horribly embarrassed by the entire turn of conversation. "I have my issues, but I'm not masochistic."
"Good." He straightens up and looks around the empty locker room. "Speaking of…that day that you walked in on him…talking about you."
You turn on the bench, shaking your head. "It's nothing. It's not surprising."
"I should have said something. I should have defended you. I'm so sorry I didn't."
You look back at him, surprised. "You didn't laugh."
"No, of course I didn't, but I didn't speak up—"
"You didn't laugh. I thought you did. Because I didn't know your laugh then. But I do now. And you didn't laugh. Thank you."
He shakes his head, looking at his lap. "Don't thank me. I should thanking you…and asking why you filled in for me at the game? One of them could have done the megaphone part."
You feel your face heat so fast you imagine you look like a cartoon character with smoke rising from your skin.
"It was Raon and Dohee. Their decisiion, they were adamant at having me fill in. I didn't want to, I did a terrible job and…we are all happy you're back."
"I'm not mad. I was just surprised. You seem like someone who permanently likes to stay in the background."
"I do. I will not be repeating that experience. So do not get sick again."
He laughs before coughing a bit, turning his face away from you. "Okay. But you weren't bad at all. You were pretty cute."
Can your face get hotter?
"I was not."
He makes a face at you, disbelieving. "I saw the video…videos, actually. I stand by my statement."
You stand up, hands fidgety because you don't know why he's saying things like this. "I should…go to practice. I am happy to see you, less pale and ill-looking."
He stands as well, tucking the cardigan around himself like he's cold. He looks soft and far less sparkling. More glowing like a single candle over fireworks.
"Me too. Happy to see you." He looks over at his cubby. "Can we meet later? I need to make up the tutoring session we missed."
"Jun, you don't have to—"
"Sure I do. It's still Romanticism, isn't it?"
You shrug. Like you have a clue.
"I'll text you."
"Okay," you whisper and hurry out the door.
It turns out to be easy to reschedule, because the Carats do not make the playoffs. The final loss, which has nothing to do with you because you are back in your regular position, doing the things you always do, clinches the 'out of the running' for the team. It's your second season with them, first time full season, and you forget how much time you have when you're not at the ball field every free minute.
Seungcheol, Joshua and Jeonghan, all seniors, are quiet and sulky when the locker room is on final clean up. You watch all the players trod out, taking their personal things with them, leaving the team properties behind.
Chan turns to grin at you and wave.
You'll place money that he'll be captain by his junior year.
Clean up is well, gross, as a season's worth of sweat and dirt and general man has built up, but it's a nice thing to have done, especially when everything is inventoried and put up for the off-season. The players will still hit the gym to keep up with their health regimens, but you're no longer needed.
Unfortunately, poetry class is not over, not yet.
"It's all death," you claim, your voice more shrill than you prefer to keep it. But you've just read the poem for this week—there is another but this one is effing long—and you are over it. "Every single freakin poem is about death."
"Most art is? I mean, literature is about sex or death…usually. That's a freebie, when you take the exam and maybe get stuck; write about sex or death."
"But this is…stupid. It's long and wordy and stupid."
He chuckles. "So you don't like American romanticism, so noted."
"'Thou go not, like the quarry-slave at night, / Scourged to his dungeon, but, sustained and soothed / By an unfaltering trust, approach thy grave, / Like one who wraps the drapery of his couch / About him, and lies down to pleasant dreams'," you read monotonously. "Like I said with the Keats poem, death is not peaceful, or calm or pleasant!"
You realize you are almost yelling and even though it's not the library, but the common area in the student union, you still attract attention. You hunch over and frown.
"Did you read the other poem?"
"No. This one took me forever to get through."
"Here, let's go through the other one." He stands up, leaning over to flip the pages in your textbook, apparently able to read upside down. You look up at him, some of your ire fading at his proximity. He's finally given into the approaching winter; wearing a long-sleeve shirt, another cardigan, and corduroy trousers. His hair is messy from the wind outside and he looks fully back to healthy, cheeks rosy from the same outside zephyr.
"Jun?"
He sits back down, nodding to the pages. "Read it."
You don't say anything, not entirely sure what you would have said anyway. Your eyes scan the poem, catching the rhyme first, then the repetition, then—
"Wait, what is 'the good night'?"
"Take a guess."
Well, it's been pretty much the same theme, so you apply death to 'the good night.'
"It was the poet to his father. When he was dying."
You mouth the words of the final line, also a repeated line, "'Rage, rage against the dying of the light.'"
"It's also called a villanelle, which is a really specific poem structure, and really hard to do and—" He cuts off and says your name. "What's wrong?"
You wipe your eyes, aware now that you're leaking tears. "Nothing."
He reaches out, hand over yours. "Tell me."
"I don't—"
He looks around, how public this all is, and scoops up your book and bag, along with his. He tugs on your scarf, still around your neck and you follow him outside.
It's blustery, leaves dancing in circles around the quad. His hair dances in sync with the leaves, and he leads you to a copse of trees where the wind is slightly blocked. He slides your book and pen in your bag before pulling out a small package of tissues.
You wipe your face, trying to not think about what you're thinking about, but it's impossible. You keep seeing the words of the poem.
Jun doesn't say anything. He leans against a tree, waiting and watching.
"My dad loved baseball," you say slowly. "Like…loved it. Knew every member of every team, coaches, and why teams did well and why they didn't. He knew everything."
"Is that where you get it?"
You nod.
"I figured he wanted his only kid to play, but I'm not good. I'm really not good. So I did the next best thing. I learned everything about it. Statistics, the players, the trades, the fact that if someone would just plant his foot a little to the left, he'd swing so much better." You sniff and look out across the quad, feeling the wind play with your hair. "He died. When I was ten."
"I'm sorry."
"Me too. He never properly got to be traumatized by teenaged me." You laugh, but it's hollow. "He refused an experimental drug. After chemo, he was tired and so sick. It wasn't guaranteed, nothing is in a hospital, but he could have tried. Even if it didn't work. Even if all the possible side-effects, like memory loss or no appetite happened." You force yourself to look at Jun. "I wanted him to fight more, but he didn't want to." You swallow the lump in your throat. "We…I wasn't enough for him to try and stay."
He doesn't ask, and you're glad because you would have said no, but he pulls you in for a hug, tight. He rests his chin on top of your head.
"I doubt that."
"What do you mean?"
"Maybe he didn't want you to see him worse?"
You look up at him, surprised to see his eyes sparkling with unshed tears.
"Maybe the drug could have made him worse, um, his body, or his mind."
"Like the memory loss, like not recognize us?"
"Yeah."
"Wouldn't that be worth the risk if you got to stay alive?"
You realize he's still holding you, but he's warm and his cardigan is really soft. You don't move.
"I can't speak for your dad. I've never been in that situation. But if…if it meant possibly losing memories of those I loved? I think I might have considered not taking the drug." He kisses your forehead and you freeze. "Maybe he wanted to keep those memories and that love for as long as he could."
Your eyes well up again, and he tightens his hold.
"I'll mess up your shirt."
"And I'll survive that," he replies, so you bury your face in his chest, tears flowing. He rubs your back as you do, seems unbothered that you're gripping him like you might collapse without him.
You miss your dad. You always miss him.
When you finally let go, Jun relaxes his hold on you, but doesn't let you detach completely.
"Wanna go get ramyeon? My treat."
Later that evening, after you're both so full of noodles and broth, and talked about baseball, cheering (he got into it because someone he liked in high school was one and they had an opening for a male cheerleader; he got the position but that someone never returned his feelings —'honestly, they were kinda a horrible person, so maybe you're not the only one with bad taste in romantic partners') and poetry, he walks you back to your dormitory.
"Thank you, Jun. With the class, and just…you know, being a really nice person."
He grins. "It's not hard to be nice to you."
"Oh please." You wrinkle your nose. "I was definitely not friendly to you in the beginning."
"You weren't?"
"I never understood why baseball needed cheerleaders, so no, I wasn't exactly amicable."
He's still laughing. "But you still offered to wash my uniform. And you still always nodded at me when you saw me. Besides, cheerleading isn't a needed thing. It's a joyous thing, to be encouraged, to join together as a group, to lift up and not bring down."
He stops where the sidewalk intersects with the path to your dorm. You look at him in the light of the streetlamps. He still is exceptionally pretty; bright smile and bright eyes, hair messy from the day.
You're wrung out from all the emotions, so you can't be held totally responsible when you raise up on your tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek. Maybe the forehead kiss gave you permission, or you've gone crazy.
But it feels like saying 'thank you' isn't quite enough.
When you land back on your feet, he's staring at you.
"Sorry if that—"
"Can I kiss you?"
Perhaps you shouldn't be surprised. Not after the way Dohee and Raon talked at the club that night, or how Binna has teased you about bringing him soup when he was sick.
But you still are.
"Yes."
He leans down, cupping your cheek in his hand. You're frozen, unsure all of a sudden how kisses work. He doesn't kiss you immediately, just sort of breathes you in, his nose brushing along yours before fitting his lips to your lips. It's incredibly soft and warm, like him. And you find yourself leaning into it, mouth opening for a taste. He returns taste for taste, teasing and igniting heat in you.
It doesn't go very far, only enough for you to miss him the moment he breaks the kiss.
"So…we'll have to revisit that," he says, his face even more rosy post-kiss.
"You mean, not on a day that I dump my entire childhood trauma on you?"
He catches your smile and leans in for another kiss, this one quick. "Next time, I'll share mine." He straightens up. "And in case it wasn't obvious, I like you."
Shouldn't really be surprising, but somehow hearing it is marveling to you.
"I like you too."
"Oh, that's good. Be weird otherwise."
You laugh, outright laugh after crying only hours earlier. "Just a little bit."
He nods toward your dorm. "You go in. You have a quiz and soon final exam to study for."
"I have a really good tutor."
His blush, even apparent in the bad street lighting, is so cute.
"Good night."
"Good night, Jun."
poems mentioned:
"Charge of the Light Brigade" by Alfred, Lord Tennyson
"To Sleep" by John Keats
"Thanatopsis" by William Cullen Bryant
"Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night" by Dylan Thomas
• you and seungkwan have beef cause no way in hell you’re coming for his title of biggest huihui.
• you’re one of the most important people in his life and he always lets you know that.
• jun pays SOOOOO much attention to you, sometimes you think he knows you better than you know yourself.
• he’s the cook of the relationship, always making you a bunch of dishes from his hometown.
• you’re his biggest supporter when it comes to his acting career.
• you definitely help pull him out of his comfort zone.
• dating him is like having a new unpredictable adventure every single day.
• he’s very good when it comes to taking care of you — always making sure you’re taking your medicine when you’re sick and not overworking yourself when life gets too hectic.
• you’re always constantly checking in on him and making sure he feels heard and seen.
• he would drop anything and everything for you (even if it’s glass.)
• jun is actually really slick when it comes to flirting, but with that being said, he also gets flustered easily whenever you reciprocate.
• sometimes he struggles with explaining things or getting his point across, but overtime you’ve become a master at decoding his words.
• he’s the first person to call whenever you want to do something stupid — he would never say no to you.
• he’s always on a mission to make you smile and laugh.
• he freaks you out with the way he sleeps, but there’s nothing buying him a sleeping mask won’t fix 😃
• would teach you inappropriate phrases in his first language, but wouldn’t tell you what it means.
• laughing at minghao when you go tell him the phrases and he stands there shocked cause wtf did you just call him ????
• late night walks are a common thing in your relationship.
• he’s always trying to convince you to get a cat.
• you being starstruck when he just randomly brings a kitten home out of nowhere.
• keeping the kitten anyways and referring to it as “your child.”
• he claims it’s practice to prepare yall for an actual kid.
• he’s always kissing your forehead.
• the type of boyfriend who would love for you to put lipstick on and pepper his face with kisses.
• shamelessly posts the selfies of him with your lipstick marks all over social media.
• you constantly get side-eyed by seungkwan cause he still holds a grudge against you for “stealing” jun from him.
• being bad at ball sports together.
• y’all are a hundred percent the type of couple to make a pillow and blanket fort in the living room.
• y’all grocery shop together always, but end up getting junk food instead of what yall originally came for.
• his energy always peaks whenever he sees you.
• jun never really complains about his worries, but you have a talent for coaxing it out of him.
summary; You think you know about the world around you, but one day you find out you don't know anything. When you start to fall about it's your boss Wen Junhui who picks up the pieces and keeps you safe.
content warnings; a lot of dark themes including: sexual assault, murder, guns, knives, beating, fighting, selling of guns, selling/using drugs, alcohol/eating, crying and dealing with trauma, mild dubcon. mob boss!junhui, second in command!minghao, security!mingyu, assistant!reader.
smut warnings; hard mean dom!junhui, sub!reader, dom!minhao. unprotected/protected sex, creampie, threesome, multiple sex scenes, rough sex, impact play, degrading, pet names, degrading names, dumbfication/objectfication to a degree, hand job, fingering, oral (m&f receiving & giving), crying/dacryphilia, innocence kink (no explicitly said), breast play, body worship. I am very certain I have left something out.
w/c; 35.9k and some change | read the 900 bonus on my patreon
a/n; this fic is for my @onlyhuis. thank you for not only editing this for me but supporting me every single word along the way. i hope you enjoy this one so so much my little huihui. with that said -- this fic is VERY dark and could be a lot for some of you to read. please be sure to read the warnings before reading so that you are prepared for what you are reading.
before continuing remember reblogs are incredibly important and please read how to support me here
“I literally don’t give a fuck. Get his ass out of my sight.”
Your brows raise as you look down at the tablet in your arms when the sound of your boss's voice rings through the bar. Someone had pissed him off and you were just happy it wasn’t you this time. Wen Junhui was an important man to a lot of people and for a lot of reasons, most of those reasons you chose to ignore and just do your job.
There were a lot of things in your job that you had to ignore in order to keep it. Things like money appearing in large quantities with little to no explanation and meeting someone only to never see them again after they opened their mouth just a little too much.
Glancing towards Jun’s office, you watch as one such man is being pulled out by Xu Minghao, Jun’s second in command. You meet the desperate man’s eyes only briefly before dropping yours, but it’s enough to give him hope as he pulls against Minghao’s arms, trying to move back towards the bar where you were standing.
“Hey! Hey, lady, pretty lady! I'm in here all the time. You ‘member me right?”
Scoffing, Minghao shakes his head, nodding towards security at the front door for help. You watch under lowered lashes as Kim Mingyu takes one of the man’s arms, helping Minghao drag him towards the exit as he continues to ask you for help.
“I had the fuckin’ money! This is bullshit!”
You let out a breath you hadn't realized you had been holding when Minghao walked back through the door, letting Mingyu shut it behind them. Wiping his hands off on the front of his shirt, the man lifts his eyebrows at you as you try to look busy with your previous task.
“You’ve been told not to look at trash when I’m taking it out. You don’t remember things very well to be so pretty, Y/N.”
Sighing, you finally meet Minghao’s eyes as he leans against the bar in front of you. You knew what you had been told; it was just that it was easier said than done to ignore something kicking and screaming as they were being dragged out of a building.
“I’m sorry. I should’ve gone to the back when I heard Mr. Wen ye–express his displeasure.”
You watch as a smirk pulls at one side of Minghao’s lips when you correct how you talk about your boss and his best friend. He had a soft spot for you and he knew you were doing your best.
“‘Least you know what you should've done.”
“Hao!”
Looking back towards Jun’s office when his name is called, Minghao purses his lips and pats the bar with his hand before giving you one more lingering look. You watch him until he disappears into your boss’s office and the door is left cracked so that only a low conversation can be heard.
You spent most of your days and nights at Moonlight Lounge. Since you had been introduced to Jun and taken on the unique position of his personal assistant, your life had changed dramatically. You were in charge of managing most of his personal accounts—but never his business accounts—and you were the one who kept his schedule to the minute.
“Y/N!”
Hearing your name being yelled by Jun wasn’t an unusual occurrence but he didn’t sound pleased, though that wasn’t a new fact either. You weren’t friends with your boss and you weren’t sure if you ever would be.
Holding the tablet closer to your chest, you glance towards Mingyu, who grimaces at how your name was said before turning away as you turn towards the office door. Everyone knew that one moment could make or break how your day was going to go at the lounge, and you had caused more of a disturbance by looking at the man as he had been dragged out.
Knocking on the door, you slip inside, feeling two sets of eyes on you as Minghao sits against a sidebar console on the right of Jun’s desk and Jun himself sits behind the large desk with a frown on his face. Lifting your eyes you try to skirt around Jun’s eyes but the man leans his head to catch your gaze before sighing and pushing his tongue into his cheek.
“Sit down. Jesus Christ…”
He was in a mood and there was nothing you could do to change it. Slipping into the leather chair, you clear your throat and rest your tablet on your lap, straightening your spine so that you feel taller and less small under Jun’s gaze. Lifting his hand, he pushes his glasses up his nose before reaching for the tumbler of whiskey in front of him, taking a sip and sitting it down hard.
“Tonight we have some important guests coming to the lounge. I want to make sure we have some of the girls prepared to serve them but I want you to steer clear of that section.”
Furrowing your brows, you give him a confused look when he doesn’t yell at you for what happened but instead goes to your task for the night. Glancing towards Minghao, you slide the pen from your tablet and stutter for a moment before opening the notepad to take notes.
“I–wh–oh…sure. Do I know who the guests are? So that I can tell them? And so that I can make sure there are adequate refreshments for their visit.”
Jun narrows his eyes at you before letting them move along your frame appraisingly as you switch into assistant mode and out of scared little kitten mode. You were stunning and when you wanted to be, you could be fierce. You had shown it on more than one occasion but Jun still had an urge to keep a close eye on you, like he did anything else that belonged to him.
“They are…” Smirking, Jun looks over to Minghao, lifting his hands in a question before sighing. “Competition and nothing more, darling. Don’t give them top shelf; we don’t serve that to those who don’t deserve it.”
Swallowing hard at the pet name, you make some limited notes as Jun watches you carefully. It wasn’t the first time he had called you darling or some other variation of a pet name, but it still made you nervous every single time. Rolling his eyes, Minghao crosses his arms and leans his head back as he watches Jun stare at you. He knew exactly what he was doing, even if you didn’t.
“I think that handles everything. Make sure they are happy, but not too happy. I want them to be jealous of what they can’t achieve. You get what I’m saying?”
Nodding, you bite at your bottom lip, making Jun tilt his head as he watches intently. You mutter to yourself, writing down a few of the waitress's names along with your suggestions for how the guests should be handled before looking up to meet Jun’s eyes and feeling your cheeks burn at how he is looking at you.
“Uh, yeah, I mean, yes, sir, Mr. Wen. I’ll take care of everything.”
Gesturing towards the door, Jun smirks as you pop up out of your seat quickly, ready to leave. He knew he was intense and he knew you were crumbling under him. He wanted you under him in more ways than one, but he had patience and an inkling of respect about him.
“Good girl. I’ll see you tonight then.”
Counting the bottles of alcohol as they are loaded onto the tray, you shake your head, reaching for one as one of the waitresses passes by you.
“I told you, Mr. Wen said, ‘no top shelf’.”
Stopping, the girl gives you a nervous look as she glances from you towards the VIP section that she had been tasked with by you. You could hear the loud laughter of the men over the music coming from the lounge, even from where you stood at the bar.
“I know, it’s just—they asked for it. They kinda scare me, Y/N. Can’t I just give them that bottle?”
Looking at the bottle of expensive vodka in your hand, you narrow your eyes at where you knew the men were before rolling your eyes at the girl’s words. It wasn’t her fault. Most of the clientele at the Moonlight Lounge could be rough around the edges but it seemed this particular group was even worse.
You could hear Jun’s voice echoing in your head as you put the bottle behind the bar and took the tray from the younger girl, making her whisper a small thank you in return. You knew you were going against what you had been told to do, the rules, and your better judgment… but it was better you than some helpless waitress.
Luckily, you had dressed for the night. Donning a tight black turtleneck sleeveless dress that ended at your thighs, your thigh high boots finished off your outfit, making you look classy enough to pass as management. Swallowing hard, you put on your best face as you approach the curved booth, seeing a group of three unfamiliar men. You could tell they at least felt important and had some money to their name from the amount on the table, the baggies of white powder, and gold on their fingers.
“Your drinks, gentlemen.”
Putting the tray down on the table, you can feel as the man to your right leans out to examine you from head to toe. There was no mistaking what he was looking at or how he was looking at you like a piece of meat as the other two laughed before reaching for the various bottles of booze in front of them.
“Hey, hey…nah, sweetheart. We ordered Beluga vodka, not this rubbing alcohol shit.”
Stepping back from the table, you try to stay out of reach of the man’s grasp, causing all three of the men to scoff at your reaction.
“Mm, I’m aware of your order... Mr. —?”
“You can just call me Sir, baby, and you can get your pretty little ass back to that bar and get me my fucking vodka if you are so goddamn aware of it.”
Pushing your tongue into your cheek, you can feel the frustration rising in you as you try to keep your composure. You didn’t want to insult the guests, but you also didn’t enjoy being talked to the way you were. Meeting the eye of the man who referred to himself as "Sir," you lift your brow and decide to stand your ground, shaking your head.
“I won’t be doing that. These are the drinks you are allowed to have by Mr. Wen and you will enjoy them or you won't, Sir. Have a good night.”
Turning on your heels, you feel good about how you ended the conversation. You can feel the pressure of the conflict lifting off you as you round the corner and enter the hallway, getting away from the constant bass of the music and the smell of the alcohol. You don’t see the pissed off look on the man’s face as you disrespect him and you don’t hear as he says he won’t let you get off that easy.
The rest of the night goes by like every other without incident. You find yourself yawning as you walk through the parking lot towards your car, your hand in your purse, when hands push you forward hard. The feeling of the breath being knocked out of your lungs is the first thing that you feel as your chest meets the side of your car, the next is lips against your cheek as you hear the sound of the man’s voice, Sir.
“Pretty little bitch... you have fun disrespecting me tonight?”
Pushing back against him, you find that you can’t move with how tightly his fingers dig into your arms as his body pushes into yours from behind. Tears well up in your eyes from anger and fear as you try to look around the dark parking lot for anyone, but you were almost always the last person to leave the bar every night.
“Please…stop.”
You feel the man’s lips pull up in a smirk as he pulls your arms behind you so he can hold them with one hand, freeing up one of his hands. With his free hand, he tugs at your dress, pulling it towards your hip, even as you stomp your feet back at his boots, making him laugh. That is when you hear the other two men, who had been with him inside, laugh.
“What’s your name? Nah, you know what? I don’t give a fuck. Just another little whore that works for Wen.” Hearing your boss’s name, you let out a loud scream, causing the man to push you against your car over your hood as his fingers trailed along your inner thigh upwards. “He likes to throw out the trash. We can show you where when we are done. Have you ever seen?”
The next sound you hear is a loud pop, followed by two others. You can only scream when the man collapses on top of you, something warm and wet soaking through the back of your dress as you struggle under him. The weight of his body is pulled from you and a hand is placed over your eyes as you start to flail your arms to fight.
“Y/N! Stop, it’s me. Shh…darling. Stop…I’ll move my hand, but keep your eyes closed for me?”
Jun’s voice and his arm moving around your waist to pull you back around against him like an anchor help calm you down. You hold his wrist tightly to your stomach, feeling his hand move from over your eyes as you keep them shut tightly out of fear of what you would see if you did open them. The smell of copper fills your nose.
You feel hands tug your dress back down around your thighs when Jun finally pries his arm from your grasp and then a warm coat placed around your shoulders. When he tries to step away, leaving you standing there with your eyes closed, you start to panic, prompting him to shush you, his fingers running over your cheek as he leans you against your car.
“I’m right here, baby. I’m not leaving you. Keep those eyes closed.”
Nodding, you hold tightly to the leather and fur jacket around your arms as you listen to the hushed voices of Jun, Minghao, and Mingyu. You hear the sounds of something heavy being dragged along the pavement and then the slamming of a trunk causes you to jump.
Jun watches you as Mingyu grunts, lifting the last of the trash off the ground and into one of the trunks. He had gotten lucky that you had screamed and that he had known you hadn’t listened to him earlier. He knew you had gone to their table but he never thought something this drastic would happen.
“Motherfuckers…”
Nodding along with Minghao’s words, Jun runs his fingers through his hair before letting out a long sigh. He knew there were people who would come looking for those who had done this to you and there were those who had seen you talking to them at the table tonight.
“What do you wanna do about Y/N?”
Pursing his lips, Jun watches as you visibly tremble a few feet away from them. You weren’t safe anymore and he couldn’t just let you go back to your apartment and hope for the best.
“I’ll handle it.”
Furrowing his brows, Minghao lifts his hands in confusion before moving towards Mingyu to close the last trunk as Jun moves back to you. You can feel his hands ghost over your arms before they finally rest on your biceps and he takes a breath, tilting his head and looking at your furrowed brow.
“You can open your eyes now, Y/N.”
Shaking your head, you find you're afraid to. What would you see? Would there be blood everywhere? Bodies? Whimpering, you open one eye only to see Jun in front of you before you open both eyes and glance around you.
Tears stream down your cheeks when you notice the dark spots on the pavement, because you know what they are. You know what is running down your back through your dress and it makes your stomach tighten. Lifting his hand, Jun runs his fingers over your cheek and shakes his head.
“You can’t go home. It’s not safe… you understand that, right?”
Shrugging, you try to speak but all you can do is let out a sob. Jun’s thumb continues to stroke your cheek as he watches you intently, almost studying you.
“I’m going to take you to my penthouse. You can stay with me for a while. I’ll keep you safe.”
It doesn’t dawn on you where you are or what that means until you are standing in Jun’s living room, looking out of the large window to the city below. You can feel the weight of everything around you, just like you can feel the dried blood on your back, causing your dress to stick to your skin.
Furrowing his brows, Jun watches you as he keeps his voice low with his cellphone resting between his shoulder and his ear. You had been quiet since he had put you in his car and told you that you couldn’t go back to your apartment. He had told you at least three times why you couldn’t, but maybe now it was sinking in for you.
“No, just grab some of her clothes and put them in a bag. I’ll buy new shit if I need to, but for now, I think she’d want her own things.”
Rolling his eyes at Minghao’s response, Jun leans against his sofa, glancing down at his nails at some dried blood caked under them, making him grimace.
“Hao, just do it, alright? I don’t wanna fuckin’ argue with you right now. Drop it off in the morning.”
Hanging up the phone, Jun lifts his eyes back to you as he sighs. He knew you were scared and confused, but that was the world that he was living in and it was the world that you started living in the moment you took your job. He couldn’t help but want to protect you from it still, just like he had shielded your eyes at the lounge.
“Y/N, I am having Minghao pick up some of your personal items so that perhaps it will feel a bit more comfortable here.”
Scoffing, you pull the borrowed jacket around you tighter, hearing your boss get closer to you. In truth, you were frightened of him just as much as you were thankful to him for saving you. You weren’t sure how his large penthouse could ever feel comfortable for you.
Pushing his tongue into his cheek out of annoyance at your reaction, Jun moves to stand behind you, looking at your reflection in the window. Lifting his hands to your arms, Jun feels your body stiffen under his touch before he sighs, leaning forward to speak next to your ear.
“I will never hurt you, darling. I took care of those who did, remember?”
Watching you nod, Jun feels your shoulders relax some so that he can slide his jacket down your arms, making you whine at the feeling of what was left. Your dress felt stiff and ruined, making you shift uncomfortably.
“I know, Mr. Wen. I-I..I’m grateful. Could I just... I want to go home. I want to go take a shower and go to bed.”
Jun frowns as he watches you struggle with your words. He knew there was blood on your skin and it made him furious. Leaning back to look over your frame, he shakes his head at your words and at his own assessment of your condition, noting the trail of blood running down the back of your thigh.
“I’ve explained it to you multiple times. You aren’t safe there, but here you are.” Meeting your eyes in the reflection of the window, Jun lifts his brows as you frown at him. “You can shower here and I’ll find you something to wear. You’ll sleep just fine here with me, where you are safe. Do I make myself clear?”
When you don’t answer right away, Jun rolls his eyes, turning you towards him so that he can look you in the eyes instead of just at your reflection. The look in his eyes is a mixture of intense and concerned, making you flustered and confused as you find yourself nodding in agreement.
“Good girl. Come on.”
Taking your hand into his, Jun takes the time to point out various rooms before leading you into a large bedroom.
“You are welcome to anything in the kitchen and nothing is off limits to you. I just ask that you follow my rules while you are here.” Sighing, Jun gestures towards the ensuite as he continues to speak to you, dropping your hand. “You can use my shower.”
Moving towards the dresser across from the end of the bed, he mutters under his breath to himself, too low for you to understand, as you watch him in disbelief.
“Uh…Mr. Wen?”
Humming out a response, Jun furrows his brows, taking out one of his black cotton shirts and turning back towards you. He could see the confusion in your eyes, but he wasn’t sure what there was to be confused about. He had explained everything.
“What? Also, let’s cut the formality, shall we? Just call me Jun. I’m going to get annoyed with the ‘Mr. Wen’ bullshit.”
The idea of calling your boss by his first name makes your head spin, but you find yourself even more taken aback as he kneels in front of you to unzip your boots. Glancing up at you, Jun lifts his hand as if to say ‘go on’ before helping you lift your leg, slipping your foot out of your shoe.
“I—um…okay. I could do that… But I was just going to say, isn't there a guest bathroom that I can use the shower in?”
Lifting his brow as if you had just slapped him, Jun meets your eyes, removing your other boot and tossing it over his shoulder. You watch him stand as he scoffs, shaking his head in disbelief at your obviously stupid question.
“Of course I do, kitten. Clearly, I have guest rooms, but I don’t want you to use those showers. I brought you to mine. It’s called keeping an eye on you. I’ve explained this.”
You could hear the annoyance in his breath at having to repeat himself. You were frustrated at having to hear him say it again and again, but it wasn’t making any sense. You were in some sort of twilight zone and you needed to wake up. Maybe that was all this was—a dream. You hadn’t been attacked. No one had been shot and your boss wasn’t lacing his fingers with yours, leading you into his bathroom.
Jun watches you as he leans into his large shower to turn on the water. You were standing with your eyes closed, almost as if you could make something appear or disappear in front of you, but as soon as the water turned on, you jumped, and he tightened his grip on your hand. You were right back to acting like that scared little kitten from his office earlier in the day. He could see your eyes darting around to avoid him and the moment his hand was away from yours, you were wandering away from him towards the counter, making him groan out of frustration.
“Do I need to do everything?”
Your eyes snap to Jun when he questions you and starts to move towards you once again. You can feel panic rise in your chest at the idea of what he might do even if you know he isn’t trying to hurt you. All you can think about in your head is the hand of the man from the lounge on your thigh tugging your dress up.
“No! I–I can! I can do it!”
Jun furrows his brows when you yell at him. He could see the fear in your eyes when you looked at him even though he had promised not to hurt you, but he couldn’t really fault you. Of course you would be scared of someone being that close after what happened. Taking a step back he puts up his hands to show you he’s not going to do something you don’t want.
“Okay, I’ll be right outside the room then. I’m not trying to upset you, Y/N. I told you I wouldn’t hurt you and I meant it. I’m… fuck—I’m trying to help you.”
You watch as Jun gives you one last look, a sad almost wounded look in his eyes as he watches your hands shake when you reach out to hold onto the counter in front of you for stability. You could tell he was struggling to leave you alone and the moment, but he was doing it for you.
Reaching the door Jun groans under this breath, lifting his hand to run it through his hair as he leans against the wall just outside of the bathroom. He remembered the desperation locked in your gaze and the confusion. As much as you wanted to play a tough act and go home, he could picture you wandering some dark, dingy apartment in your blood stained dress for hours. You needed someone to take care of you.
Closing your eyes for a moment once you are alone in the bathroom, you feel your legs tremble as the weight of the day seems to close in around you. The quartz of the counter under your fingertips feels like fragile glass and the silence feels like a roaring wave and you realize that this is what it would be like to be at home alone. You didn’t have a roommate, there was no family waiting for you. You would just be sitting on your bed completely alone stuck in a never ending silence as the world collapsed around you.
Tears stream down your face as you reach for the end of your dress trying to pull on it in an attempt to try to undress yourself but it’s all too much. Opening your eyes, you search the door for Jun letting out a soft sob of his name just wanting him to come back realizing you can’t do this without him. It didn’t make sense but he was a buoy keeping you from drifting off into the middle of the sea.
Hearing his name whispered between your sobs, Jun furrows his brows looking around the door frame to meet your eyes. The sight of you almost breaks his heart and makes him move to you taking your face into his hand as he rests his other against the counter. Sighing, Jun shakes his head studying your pretty face as you shake your head prompting him to help you.
“Y/N, you need to take your clothes off.”
You lean into Jun’s touch as his thumb strums against your cheekbone. He waits for you to nod before he steps away and leans against the counter, glancing down trying to give you back some privacy. He was going to stay where you needed him, but he was going to let you try to do this yourself.
Sniffing back your tears you move your eyes from Jun and towards the mirror in front of you as you once again try to work up the courage to pull up your dress. When your eyes meet yourself in the steamed up mirror, they fall to a smear of dried blood on the side of your neck right above the top of your turtleneck.
Jun furrows his brows, listening to the sounds of your breath quickening to the point of panic, his hands tighten at his side before he mutters, ‘fuck, and looks up to see you still dressed, rubbing your hand at the blood on your neck. Moving to you, he takes your hand, with one hand wrapping the other around your waist, to pull you back against him, shushing you.
“Leave it. That’s what the water is for, baby. I was going to just—well, stand here and make sure you were okay but if you can’t even undress yourself—”
Fingers slide from your waist to your thigh, carefully bunching your dress up your thigh, making you put your hand over Jun’s. Lifting his brows, he meets your eyes in the mirror, waiting for you to move your trembling hand giving him permission to continue. Jun takes a step back and slides your dress up your body. You feel shame and something else wash over you as Jun hums softly, helping you work the dress over your head before dropping it onto the counter.
Luckily and unluckily for Jun, his eyes were moving over your back and to the dried blood that had transferred onto your body through your dress. While he was enjoying the view of your body on display in front of him, the idea of it being tainted by some piece of trash’s blood was enough to keep him from getting aroused. He needed to get you clean.
This was not a situation you ever thought you would find yourself in—in your underwear, in your boss’s bathroom as he undressed you—but as Jun ran his hands along your arms soothingly, you found yourself somehow relaxing. Even under his intense gaze, there was a calm in the storm.
“These next, okay, Y/N?”
Swallowing hard, you nod and lift your hands, resting them over the cups of your bra as you feel the garment give way as Jun’s fingers undo the clasp. The straps fall down your shoulders and you lower your eyes, moving one hand and then the other before covering your breasts once again.
Shaking his head at how you try to keep your modesty, Jun takes a breath, pushing his fingers into top of your panties at your hips and pushing them down before letting gravity do the rest. What was the point of your need for modesty now? You were stunning and if it weren’t for the blood spoiling his view, Jun would have let you know then.
“Go ahead, darling... I’ll be right here.”
Leaning back against the counter, Jun lifts his brow at you as you shift sideways, trying to keep yourself covered, sliding into the glass shower and pulling the door closed behind you. The steam gave you some privacy, but it still allowed you to see where Jun was, which for some reason, made you feel at ease.
Glancing back down at his nails, Jun takes a deep breath, hearing the water hitting your body before it hits the shower floor. It was a welcomed sound and one that he hoped to enjoy for himself once you were safely tucked away in his bed.
Running his thumbnail under his index nail to clean out the blood he had seen earlier, Jun glances towards the shower, watching you lean your head back as the water rains down over you. He could see the dark red washing down the drain at your feet and he hoped that you would be able to get it all off without him.
“Y/N…Let the water hit your back for a bit.”
You furrow your brows at Jun’s voice, looking over your shoulder at him meeting his eyes through the glass. You knew that was where your dress had been sticking to you the most. Nodding, you step to your right, letting the water hit your back before you glance down at your feet.
Jun is quick to open the door when you let out a loud gasp, your hand reaching for the door as you see the blood going down the drain. Tears mix with the water running down your face as Jun pulls you against him, stepping under the shower with you.
Your eyes drop back down to the drain where your feet rest between Jun’s. You see blood mixing with water running over his feet and yours before you lean your head back against his shoulder, feeling his wet shirt against your neck.
“You’re getting your clothes wet, Jun.” Sniffing between sobs, you look back down seeing less blood going down the drain but it was still enough to make you tremble in his arms. “And the blood… it’s on your feet.”
Jun shakes his head, stepping away from you, keeping one hand on your arm as he uses the other to run it over your lower back, rubbing away the blood before glancing up at your face.
“You’re worried about my clothes getting wet?”
Smiling into his words, Jun sighs and furrows his brows carefully, swiping at some blood on your ass before moving to your thighs as he keeps talking, feeling you looking back at him as he focuses.
“The blood isn’t yours or mine, that’s what is important. And it’s going down the drain where it belongs.” Pursing his lips, Jun meets your eyes briefly before wanting to once again distract you, protect you from looking at any more blood going down the drain. “What did I tell you when I hired you?”
Shaking your head, you look at Jun, confused at why he would even be asking you something like that when you are so upset. Lifting your hand you swipe at tears and water on your face scoffing until he speaks again.
“Tell me, Y/N.”
His voice is stern but there is a layer of kindness to it that you were starting to get used to tonight. It was comforting and made you want to recall the conversation for him.
“You—uh, you said that I was too sweet for the job. You said it would break me.”
Nodding, Jun tilts his head, turning you to face him and glancing down the length of your body. At first, you feel incredibly exposed and self conscious, but after a moment, you realize he doesn’t even seem to be looking at your body but instead for blood. Finally, his eyes lift to meet yours and he licks water from his lips, taking a step back from you.
“Now I have to put you back together...”
Running a towel over his wet hair, Jun leans against the door frame, looking at you curled up on his bed. You seemed to be finally resting after he had left you to get dressed in the t-shirt he had pulled from his dresser so he could take his own shower. In truth, he had worried you might try to wander off in the penthouse or even out of it, but he was happy to see you on his bed. Your bare legs were pulled up slightly as the comforter rested at your knees.
Before, Jun had been more focused on making sure you were okay. He had been able to keep himself from letting his eyes look over your body in anything other than concern, but now as you lay in his bed in his clothes, it was harder to do that.
Swallowing hard, Jun glances down at his bare chest, running the towel in his hand over some drops of water that had fallen from his hair before tossing the towel into the hamper and moving into the bedroom. He was already dressed in sweatpants, but he didn’t feel the need to put on anything else, knowing he was just going to lay down on the bed near you. Jun was tired, but he had a feeling it would be a restless night.
Your eyes follow Jun as he moves around his bed, lifting his hand to run his fingers through the wet strands. You can’t help but let your eyes move over his torso and arms. While you were having one of the worst days in your life, the man in front of you was treating you with the most care you had ever experienced on that worst day, and he looked like he was chiseled from stone.
Pushing your head down so that your lips are under your arm, you shift slightly when Jun lays down beside you. Staying quiet, your brows furrow as he groans under his breath, feeling the weight of the day in his back. He hadn’t looked over at you yet, but you find yourself furrowing your brows in concern as his eyes close tightly and he arches his back to stretch it.
“Are you okay?”
Your voice is soft, and Jun’s brows relax the moment it reaches his ears. He had thought you were asleep. His bed was big enough that he wasn’t that close to you and he knew he wasn’t being so loud that he would have woken you up, unless you were an incredibly light sleeper—clearly you hadn’t been asleep as he thought. Glancing over to you as he rests back on the bed, Jun lets his eyes move over your face as you hide half of it behind your arm. You were too pretty to hide like that but it wasn’t the time to make you do anything different.
“‘Course. Your turn to worry about me now?”
You can’t help but smile at Jun’s words before rolling your eyes, knowing he’s teasing you. You can see the small smile pulling at his lips as he turns on his side to face you; his arm is almost long enough that his fingers are able to brush your arm, but he doesn’t.
“I was just asking. You sounded like you were in pain. I–” Moving your arm so you can speak more clearly, you watch as Jun’s brows furrow once again when your arm ends up against his fingers. “I’m just… I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. I’m sorry.”
He didn’t want your apology and he didn’t need it. Sighing, Jun adjusts his head on his arm, testing the waters as he rests the back of his index finger against your arm and runs his thumb along the side of it gently as he talks, feeling goosebumps spread under his touch.
“Shit happens when you live like we do, Y/N. I told you that. I knew who those pricks were and what they were capable of. I didn’t want them around you for a reason.”
Your eyes shift to where Jun’s fingers rest against your arm as you listen to him speak. You know that you can move or ask him to stop, but you find yourself not wanting either of those things. There is comfort in his touch. It’s the same comfort that you felt from the moment he put his hands over your eyes to shield you from what he had done to save you.
“I know. I shouldn’t have gone against that… It’s just—if it hadn’t been me, it would have been one of the others. I think I know that now. None of the girls were comfortable.”
Taking in a deep breath, Jun nods, drawing a small circle with his thumb near your wrist before wrapping his fingers around it, lightly letting your arm rest in his palm.
“If we want to point fingers, there are plenty to point in all directions. I shouldn’t have allowed them into the bar. I knew what they were… I know who they work for.”
Your fingers tremble as you lift your eyes to meet Jun’s. With how he is holding your wrist in his, you are able to drop your hand and rest it on the inside of his forearm, the tips of your fingers brushing over his skin. You watch him for a moment, watching the way his lips fall open to the sensation before Jun licks his lips and glances at yours as you speak.
“I don’t blame you. I—well honestly, before... when we were in your car, I probably wanted to.”
A smile pulls at Jun’s lips when you confess your thoughts to him. Your touch was so light, yet it made his skin feel like it was on fire. It was such an innocent thing and it had him trying so hard to keep himself in check.
“Yeah? What changed?”
Furrowing your brows, you analyze Jun’s smile. You had seen many of his smiles in the few months that you had been working for him but this one was different. If anyone had asked you to describe your boss before tonight, you would have called him stern, cold, indifferent, and even cruel. Watching Jun now, the way his brows furrow and then relax with worry as you stay quiet for longer than he would like, you know it would be different. The man you were getting to know now was guarded, caring, and warm.
“You did.”
The sound of voices pulls you from your sleep. Glancing around the unfamiliar room, you start panicking at first, reaching for where Jun had been, only to find the smooth satin sheet under your fingers. It’s only the sound of his voice and that of his laughter that brings your heart rate back down, making you realize he hadn’t left you; he was just in another room.
Furrowing your brows, you try to listen carefully to what Jun is saying and who else is talking when it dawns on you that the other voice belongs to Minghao. The next thing that hits you is the smell of food and the sound of your stomach growling. It had been far too long since you had eaten and you were starting to feel it.
Sitting up, you glance around for something to put on your lower half, only for a smile to pull at your lips when you notice a familiar bag next to the end of the bed. Jun had told you that Minghao was going to bring you things from your place and it had seemed that both had kept their promise. Sliding from the bed, you glance towards the door before pulling the bag up and onto the floor, opening it to see what had been packed for you.
Jun glances back down the hall for the umpteenth time, making Minghao roll his eyes with a smirk on his face. He had seen Jun watch you at the bar, but it was never this bad. Sure, Minghao understood the gravity of what had happened, but it wasn’t like there was danger lingering in the doorway to the bedroom at all times. You were simply sleeping in after a difficult day.
“She’s fine. Stop being such a fuckin—”
Pointing the kitchen knife in the direction of his best friend, Jun stops Minghao before he starts. He knew he would never actually hurt him; however, that didn’t make Jun any less threatening with a sharp object in his hands. Lifting his hands from his thighs, Minghao leans back on the kitchen bar stool, his eyes falling to the vegetables that Jun had been cutting up to go into the omelette he was making for you.
“Fine… so sensitive in the morning. You’ve never cooked for me.”
Scoffing, Jun adds the chives to his bowl as he meets Minghao’s eyes, whisking them in with the eggs.
"Well, I don’t like you so...”
You couldn’t help the smile that was pulling at your lips as you watched the two men bantering in the kitchen. You didn’t want to interrupt them, but after you had gotten dressed in some of the jeans and a long sleeved shirt, you followed their voices and the smell of the food. Now you were leaning against the tall cabinets, biting at your thumbnail, trying to stay quiet until Minghao noticed you and his brows raised in interest.
Jun wasn’t the only one that found you attractive; maybe he was just a bit more forward with it, but Minghao couldn’t help but let his eyes move over you in the simple outfit. Taking a breath, the man drops his eyes when Jun notices him staring over his shoulder, making him curious at what could be so interesting that Minghao’s face had lit up. One glance in your direction told him everything he needed to know.
“Hey, morning. I’m making you some food. Come here… Do uh—you like eggs? I don’t actually know.”
Still smiling, you feel your cheeks burn at their attention as Minghao peeks back up to watch you moving closer, your bare feet on the tile as you glance into the pan, watching the omelette cook.
“It smells so good. I do like eggs. I should be cooking for you, though.”
Scoffing, Jun turns his body so there is no way you could take the pan from him after hearing you laugh softly. His eyes follow you as you move around the island to take a seat next to Minghao, who presses his lips together before looking over at you. Jun furrows his brows at the man’s reaction. It was like he was attracted to you, but that was ridiculous, right?
“Morning, Minghao. Thank you for bringing me stuff from my house.”
Smirking softly, Minghao nods, his eyes moving along your face as his fingers slowly tap against his arm.
“No problem. I didn’t have a choice anyway, but it wasn’t the worst thing this asshole has ever made me do.”
Jun rolls his eyes as he tilts the pan towards a plate, letting the omelette slide out onto it. He knew that while Minghao was teasing him, he also wasn’t lying. There had been plenty that he had asked of him, and asking him to pack up a few things from your house was one of the easiest things he had ever done.
Sliding the plate across the island, Jun watches as you smile up at him, taking it with a small thank you before you pick up the fork and glance at both of the men with a laugh. Neither of them had food in front of them and Jun was already cleaning up where he had been cooking.
“Wait? You aren’t going to eat too?”
Leaning back in his chair, Minghao shakes his head. He extends his arm to rest it on the back of your chair out of habit as he looks towards Jun, who sighs softly, using his forearm to turn on the sink.
“We already did. You slept in, Y/N. Don’t worry about us; eat up. You want something to drink?”
Cutting into the omelette, you sigh, glancing towards Minghao as he asks you about a drink. Why are both of them taking care of you now? The look in his eyes was so similar to Jun’s when he took the time to dry you off after your shower before pulling his shirt down over your body.
“Um… yes?”
Nodding as he slides out of his chair, Minghao moves around Jun as if he belongs in the penthouse, opening the fridge to take out a pitcher of juice. You watch as the men exchange a few words in passing, with Jun passing a glass to Minghao before the glass is then slid over to you. Taking your first bite of food, you let out a breath through your nose in disbelief at how both of them are acting compared to how you remember watching Minghao drag a man out of Jun’s office the day before.
“What? You don’t like orange juice? Everyone likes orange juice, doll.”
After a couple of days of being in Jun’s penthouse, you were starting to go stir crazy. You were feeling more like yourself and it was getting harder and harder to act normal around Jun while sleeping next to him every night. While Jun had his office in his penthouse and all of the comforts of his home around him, you were a visitor with a bag and wandering eyes.
Jun had gone to great lengths to try to keep you entertained. He had given you access to his credit cards and a laptop, which you refused to use. You had access to his entire penthouse, including a pool, and yet you were sitting on the reading sofa in his office. Glancing up from his desk over his glasses as you sigh for what he could only assume was the twentieth time in the last hour, his resolve breaks.
“Y/N… are you struggling to breathe, darling?”
Looking up from your phone, you pout at Jun as he uses his index finger to pull his glasses down his nose, getting a better look at you from the distance from the desk to the sofa. You could feel your mouth go dry at how he was looking at you. There was a sense of danger in his gaze. You could tell he was annoyed with you, but so were you. Worst of all, you were bored, and you were starting to get homesick.
“Maybe. It’s stuffy in this penthouse. I want to go out.”
Scoffing, Jun pushes his glasses back up his nose, looking back at his computer screen. You have already tried this a few times today. He knew you wanted to leave, but you were forgetting how much danger you were in. The trauma was starting to be masked by impatience. Meanwhile, he was often reminded of just how real the danger was.
“I bet you do. Go for a swim, then you’ll be outside, darling.”
Leaning your head back, you groan like a petulant child being told no. Smirking to himself at your reaction, Jun clicks through the pictures of the burned cars from his personal garage located at the bar. You hear him sigh, his brow lifting as he rolls his neck. That aura of danger is very present as anger washes over him.
“Motherfucker…”
Furrowing your brows, you sit up as if you are going to move towards him when Jun looks at you, making you change your mind.
“I–what’s wrong?”
Jun simply shakes his head and lifts his hand, pushing his lips hard with his thumb as he tries to think about how to phrase what he wants to tell you. He didn’t want you to be as terrified as you were when he first brought you home and he didn’t want you to be watching over your shoulder every second for the rest of your life. He knew he would have to take care of this problem but that wasn’t something you needed every detail of. No, that was something he could metaphorically shield your eyes from.
“Just… There was some property damage at the bar. Nothing for you to worry about. Nothing that I can’t handle from here.”
You could see there was more on Jun’s mind, but something about that look in his eye made you not want to push the subject much more.
“Okay… “
Furrowing your brows, you sit back on the sofa, watching Jun run his fingers through his hair before he pulls most of it back out of the way. Tilting your head as the minutes pass, you let your eyes move over his face and down to his hands as he works.
Jun glances towards you every few minutes, a smirk pulling up at one side of his lips each time he finds you looking at him, only for you to look away when you get caught. That was becoming a frequent occurrence, and one that he was starting to enjoy. It wasn’t just here that it happened, but also as the two of you lay in bed at night or early in the morning. He would wake up to find your eyes on him before you would close your eyes, pretending to still be asleep.
You were bored; Jun knew that… He also knew you kept thinking about what was going on outside of the penthouse. You were thinking about the bar, your house, friends and family perhaps. You needed a distraction. He could do that. Maybe he had just been holding back too much.
Biting his bottom lip, Jun hears you take a deep breath before he looks over at you to watch you once again look away quickly. You were painfully obvious and so fucking adorable. Reaching over with his left hand, Jun turns off his monitor as he tilts his head, watching you try to look busy scrolling through your phone.
“Kitten?”
Your cheeks burn at the pet name, and your eyes meet Jun’s as you glance at him over your phone. He had called you that name before and many others, but this time the name felt different and it made your thighs press together out of instinct.
Seeing you shift at his voice, Jun runs his tongue along his teeth. He knew you were listening to him and he had an effect on you. That’s all he needed to know. Lifting his right hand, palm up, he bends his index finger back twice, summoning you to him.
Just watching Jun’s finger move, the look on his face is enough to make your skin feel like it’s on fire. You curse at yourself under your breath for the reaction you have before glancing away. You know you shouldn't be acting like you are over your boss, but a sigh falls from his lips along with your name and you are on your feet, moving towards his desk.
Sliding his chair back slightly, Jun follows you with his eyes the entire way until you are standing in front of him. Leaning his head back, he smirks at you, really looking at you for the first time since you stepped into his penthouse. He had been respectful so far, but now you could feel him undressing you with his eyes and you felt exposed and aroused.
Leaning your hand against the desk at your right, you take a deep breath, waiting for Jun to speak. You had a good idea where this was headed, but you weren’t going to make a complete idiot out of yourself by throwing yourself at him. It was bad enough that you were pressing your thighs together in your jeans as you shifted your legs almost uncomfortably as you stood there waiting.
Jun was enjoying making you wait. You looked like a dog waiting for a treat. He had your treat, watching you do the stay command like such a good girl until he said the word. Shifting his legs apart, Jun lets out a breath as he lets his eyes finally move back up to your eyes.
“I’ll ask this first. Do you want this? I won’t make you do anything, but I don’t plan on going easy on you, darling.”
Blinking a few times, you feel your mouth go dry at Jun’s words. You hadn’t been wrong and you had never been so aroused in your entire life. You knew what had happened to you at the bar—the feeling of the man’s hand on your skin—but now, as your eyes move over Jun’s hand, remembering it on your skin as he took care of you afterwards, you find yourself wanting him to cover up that bad feeling with something good. You just didn’t want to give in so easily. Licking your lips, you tilt your head as Jun does the same.
“This? This… what? I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about, Mr. Wen.”
Jun sucks his bottom lip between his teeth at your words, feeling his palm itch. You were being a brat and he knew it. You knew exactly what he meant—especially with your “Mr. Wen” bullshit. He could hear the purr in your voice and it was making his pants tight. Lifting his hand, Jun scratches his eyebrow, an unamused laugh slipping from between his lips as you shift to stand on one foot, your other allowing your toes to run along your ankle.
“Mmm, baby.” You can’t help the small smile that plays at your lips when you hear the frustration in Jun’s voice, his eyes moving over your legs and up your body as he speaks. “If you think you can tease me and get away with it, you are going to learn you are sorely mistaken. I’ll ask again, more clearly, and I won’t ask again. Do you want me to fuck you, or not?”
Jun watches as the confidence that you had been building to tease him quickly fades at his question. All that brain power that you had thinking up ways to get him riled up was now being used to picture getting your pussy filled by him. It was cute watching how quickly he could make you crumble. Such a smart girl goes dumb and just nods. Pointing at his lips, Jun signals for you to use your words. By clearing your throat, you try to sound louder than you actually are.
“I–I want you to.”
Nodding along with your words, Jun reaches out to slide his fingers along your hip, pulling you towards him and causing you to stumble, but he is quick to help you settle on his lap.
“Then that’s all you had to say. Isn’t that easier? Brats don’t get things they want, but good girls do. Remember that. I don’t like when my palm itches, kitten.”
Swallowing hard, you glance down to Jun’s hand as he runs it along your thigh. You can’t remember a time when you had fallen so hard in lust with another man. Resting your hand on his chest, you meet Jun’s eyes once again as he leans his head back to watch you closely, his thumb brushing your inner thigh going further up your leg.
“I… um—” Watching your legs spread as you struggle to think straight, Jun smirks, moving his hand to the button keeping your jeans clasped. “I don’t know what that means. What will you do to me if your palm itches?”
Jun grins, his brows lifting at your question. He wasn’t sure if you were still being bratty or seriously asking that question. Pushing his thumb against the clasp of your jeans, he uses his other fingers to work the metal button from its secure hold so that it gives way letting your jeans undo for him.
“Means I’d have to punish you, baby. Don’t make me do that. Understand?”
Lifting his free hand, Jun holds your chin so that you meet his eyes, his other hand sliding along your stomach under your shirt. You sucked in a breath, feeling his thumbnail circle your belly button, Jun’s lips pulled up in a smirk as his words seemed to dawn on your face and you nodded.
“Good girl. Stand up; let me get you out of these clothes. You don’t need them anymore.”
Letting out a shaky breath, you feel your hands tremble as you slide off Jun’s lap to stand between his legs. You didn’t want to be as easy as you were being with him or as quick as you were to listen to him, but his tone of voice had your mouth drooling and your panties sticking to your folds.
Jun tugs at your jeans, pulling them down your legs, letting his eyes move with them. He had seen almost every inch of your body already, but this was completely different. He was able to really drink you in this time. He could allow himself to actually look at you and you were the most stunning thing he had ever seen in his entire life.
Sucking in a breath, Jun’s eyes focus on the wet spot on the center front of your panties as you lift your legs for him, letting him remove your jeans all together. God, you were already so wet for him. He couldn’t wait to see just how wet you were.
Jun wanted to take his time with you but there would be plenty of time for that. He was impatient and his cock was straining against his pants as his hands tugged your panties down your legs. You listen to the groan that slips past his lips and your thighs push together in reaction. The sound was almost sinful as he saw how your folds were glistening in the light.
Glancing up at you, Jun pushes his hands up your stomach, letting you help him pull your shirt up and over your head. His eyes fall to your breasts, his mouth watering, brow lifting. He had wondered if you were wearing anything under your shirt earlier, but respect for you had stopped him from looking too close—now he knew his answer.
“Now you?”
Smirking at your question, Jun shakes his head, leaning back in his chair. He had no plans on getting as naked as you were. He enjoyed seeing you completely naked in front of him. You whine his name, and Jun gives you a faux pout of concern, lifting his hand to tug open the buttons of his shirt.
“You’ll take what I give you and thank me for it.”
Your breath gets caught in your throat as you try to process what Jun has said to you. No man has ever spoken to you like that and you enjoy it. You find yourself trying to fight the goosebumps that spread over your skin at the idea of him walking this fine line of meanness and caring. Your eyes follow his fingers to the end of his shirt as he tugs it loose from his pants, shifting in his chair. You had seen Jun’s body before, at least his torso and you had appreciated it, but this was different. You wanted to run your hands over every line and ridge of his muscles, but you find yourself standing as still as you can as he keeps his eyes on you, using one hand to undo his belt and pants slowly.
Lifting his hips, Jun pushes his pants and briefs down, letting them fall to his ankles as your mouth falls open in surprise. You had let your eyes wander to his sweatpants more than once. You had curiously looked at his bulge and wondered just how big he might be, but seeing his cock hard and resting back against his abdomen—your heart was racing.
Seeing the expression on your face, Jun couldn’t help feeling his ego expand. He knew he was big, perhaps bigger than some would expect and better than that, and he knew how to use what he had been given. Smirking, he leans his head back, reaching down to wrap his hand around his shaft, stroking himself from tip to base, knowing you were watching him closely.
“Kitten… Your mouth is watering. Tell me—do you want to sit on it or do you want to suck on it?”
Feeling your cheeks burning, you look from Jun’s hands to his eyes and back, stuttering over your words, not sure what to say. He was being so forward and that wasn’t something you were used to.
“Wha—I… I don’t—”
Laughing under his breath, Jun groans, pushing his thumb against his slit and arching his hips upwards towards the feeling as pre-cum drips down his thumb into his palm. Letting go of his cock, Jun lifts his hand and purses his lips once again, bending his finger back towards him to make you come to him. You watch the pre-cum slide over his skin towards his wrist, making your knees feel weak.
“It’s okay, darling. I know you don’t have any thoughts in your pretty head but getting fucked. Get on your knees and let me use that mouth to get my cock wet. Gotta make sure it’s wet enough to squeeze it into your little cunt, don’t we?”
Your head was spinning as Jun’s hand wrapped around your wrist and you lowered yourself to your knees in front of him. In the past, you had cussed out guys for much less and turned down tinder dates when they asked to see your pussy, referring to it as your ‘cunt’. Yet, here you were on your knees, wanting Jun to fuck yours.
Kicking one of his legs out of his pants, Jun moves his hand from your wrist to your face as you move between his legs, looking up at him for direction. It was both the most adorable thing and the sexiest thing he had seen in his life. You looked just like that puppy waiting for a treat. Your lips slightly parted, your head tilted back, and your hands on his knees. He felt like he could cum on the spot just looking at you, but he had better control than that, and he had plans for you.
Guiding you forward, Jun uses his other hand to hold his cock, angling it so that his tip rests against your lips. You open your mouth as Jun bites at his bottom lip, a groan caught in his throat when his tip glides along your warm, wet tongue. Nails scratch at your jaw, fingers sliding down while Jun lifts his hips, just slightly pushing his cock even further into your mouth until you close your eyes and tighten your hand on his thigh.
You hadn’t taken all of his cock in your mouth—not even close. You could almost feel him in your throat as Jun held your head still for a moment. Letting go of your head, he lets you move on your own as he leans his head back, groaning your name under his breath.
Jun knew he wasn’t going to be able to let you keep your mouth on him for long. He had plans for you and they didn’t involve him cumming prematurely down your throat, no matter how good you were with your mouth. That didn’t mean he couldn’t enjoy it for a few minutes. It didn’t mean he couldn’t relish in the feeling of you gagging around him as you forced yourself down further on his cock. You weren’t a quitter… Jun could appreciate that.
“Fuuuckk—”
The word is drawn out on a groan as Jun looks down at you on your knees, feeling you finally pull back for air. He meets your eyes and he knows you are going to go back for more, but his hand catches your throat loosely and you stop in your tracks. The action scares you at first. You gasp, your eyes widening, but Jun purses his lips and shakes his head at your panicked whimper as he runs his thumb along your pulse point.
“You think I’d ever fucking hurt you? Princess…no. I’d wear your ass out and then kiss it better, but I’d never actually hurt you in a way you wouldn’t like.”
Using a bit of pressure to urge you to stand, Jun lifts you by your throat as you stand on your own. Looking up at you, he grins as you shiver in his grasp, leaning towards him, finally relaxing as he slides his hand towards your collarbone.
“Red, if you want me to stop; if anything hurts or scares you too much. Yellow, if you need to slow down or if you need a break. Green, if you are okay. If I ask you for your color, you don’t hesitate to tell me. Understand?”
Nodding, you lick your lips as Jun’s free hand slides over your hip before he guides you towards his desk.
“Good girl. Up you go.”
You give him a confused look until Jun stands, kicking his foot free of his pants as both his hands move to your waist, lifting you on to his desk. Stepping between your legs, Jun smirks down at you as you lean back slightly, trying to avoid pushing any of his paperwork or supplies out of your way.
“So timid and sweet after sucking my cock like a slut... what are you so worried about? Some pens and paper?”
Your cheeks burn when Jun degrades you. Leaning one hand against the desk, Jun reaches behind you to swipe most of the files and office supplies onto the floor with a loud clang. You can’t help but jump to the sound as he grins against your ear.
“Now you can lean back without worrying what you might hit. If the computer falls off, I’ll just buy another one. I have a feeling this will make breaking anything in my office worth it.”
Jun laughs when you whine his name and shake your head, trying to argue with him. Leaning back just enough to hover his face in front of yours, Jun watches your mouth fall open when he slides his fingers through your wet folds. His brows furrow at the feeling of your soft folds against his fingers and just how wet you were for him. It was one thing to see it, but it was another to feel it.
“Fuck, baby… You’re dripping on my fingers. You want my cock that bad?”
You can only moan and push your hips towards Jun’s fingers when you feel him push two against your entrance. You want to answer him and defend your dignity, but instead you only prove him right when you sob his name on another moan, feeling his fingers start to stretch you out.
Resting his forehead against yours, Jun smirks at hearing the sweet sounds slipping from between your lips. They were the sounds of his dreams and his daydreams. He could recall many days and nights spent with you in his head and him wondering how you would sound with his fingers stuffed in your pussy, and now he knew. You sounded angelic.
“That’s right… you got my cock all wet, kitten, but now I have to stretch out this tight little hole. Gotta make sure I don’t hurt you.”
Tears collect in your eyes as your nails scratch at the wood under you, feeling a third finger sliding into you. The stretch is intense but welcomed, just like the dirty words being whispered against your lips. Gasping for a breath, you roll your hips down over Jun’s fingers, tilting your head up to brush your lips against Jun’s, testing the waters. A bit of fear ripples through your body like waves in a pool when he doesn’t kiss you back at first. Instead, Jun groans—a sound similar to a growl in his throat—and his fingers push into you hard and deep before he bites at your lips, claiming your kiss for his own.
Jun had wanted to kiss you, but he had been worried. He had been afraid to scare you off with intimacy or perhaps to get too attached. All that faded away when your lips met his and he knew that he was fucked. You were his in every sense of the word as his lips pressed to yours, his tongue sliding into your mouth, and your walls began to tighten around his fingers like a vice.
You reach up to cling to Jun’s jacket, scratching at the soft linen, wishing you could get to the skin as he smirks against your lips, feeling you cum around his fingers. Squeezing your quivering thighs around his body, you try to beg for mercy. Jun laughs into a whispered groan of “again” against your lips, feeling you clamp down on his fingers, another orgasm ripping through your body.
As your body relaxes, Jun carefully slides his fingers out of you, lifting his hand towards his mouth to suck his fingers clean. Your heart races not only from the intensity of your orgasms, but also from the sight of Jun licking your cum from his fingers as he groans in appreciation.
“Delicious… I knew you would be, kitten. Been wanting to do this since the day I hired you.”
Jun grins around his index finger as you press your lips together, obviously embarrassed by his words and how forward he is being with you. He was enjoying every drop of you on his fingers. He wanted to bury his face between your legs and pull an orgasm out of you before he fucked you, but the painful throb of his cock was telling him otherwise.
“Color?”
Swallowing hard, you nod as you take a breath. You knew Jun wanted a verbal answer, you just needed to find the words and your voice after two orgasms. Your mouth felt like cotton and he looked impatient. Licking your dry lips, you let out your breath slowly and finally manage to speak quietly, but it’s enough for Jun.
“Green, I’m okay.”
To Jun, you were more than okay. He could see the look in your eye and he knew you wanted his cock. He had felt how your pussy was sucking his fingers back in, and he had a feeling you’d do the same with his cock. Nodding, Jun lifts his brows, using his hand to angle the head of his cock against your folds so that he pushes against your clit. Hearing you whine, still sensitive, he smirks and tilts his head, knowing he needs to ask more questions, though he wants to just bury himself in you.
“Tell me, darling. When was the last time you had something inside you?”
Your breath quickens as you answer Jun’s question. You were almost afraid to answer him, afraid he wouldn’t like the answer or, worse, that he would like it too much. You were a busy woman and it was his fault.
“A while… probably, I don’t know, six months, maybe closer to seven.”
Jun nods, enjoying the idea of no one has been close to you for the past few months. If he had his way now, no one would be except him. Licking his lips, Jun meets your eyes, leaning his head to the side as you try to look past him, feeling under pressure under his gaze.
“Are you on birth control? Hm?”
He could tell you were surprised by the question. That wasn’t something guys usually ask you. Typically, they would just put on a condom or wait for you to tell them, but Jun was different. When you look taken aback, Jun grins and rolls his eyes, lifting his hand to brush it over your warm cheek as he uses his other to tease your clit again with his cock. You can’t help the moan that escapes your mouth as you lift your hips, almost instinctively searching for Jun’s cock at the feeling, but Jun just tsks, pushing your hips back down.
“Not so fast, baby. Answer the question. Yes or no? I want to fill you up… but I won’t tonight if you aren’t on —”
“I am! Please, just, oh my god. Stop teasing me?”
Hearing you beg was something special and Jun knew he could get used to the sound of it. He could feel how he was leaking against your folds just from the sound of it and now he wasn’t going to make you wait. Jun watches your face as he pushes into you, the way your mouth falls open as he stretches you slowly.
You knew he had taken time to make you cum on his fingers twice and yet you were clinging to Jun as he slowly eased his cock into you, making sure you could handle him. It wasn’t painful, but by the time he rested his hand against the swell of your ass, scratching his nails against your skin to the feeling of you clenching around him, you felt the fullest you had ever felt.
“Please. Please… Oh, fuck…”
Begging again... Jun groans, feeling his head spin and his stomach tighten at the sound of your voice. He wasn’t sure he was going to be able to control himself, but with how you were begging, he wasn’t sure you wanted him to and he had said he wasn’t going to go easy on you. Sliding his hand back to your throat, Jun feels you swallow hard under his palm as his hips meet yours hard, thrusting into you so deeply that tears instantly fall from the corners of your eyes.
You had been with several men over the years, but none of them had ever made you feel like you were simultaneously floating and drowning at the same time. It was hard to catch your breath between the panic of having Jun’s hand on your throat and the pleasure of Jun’s cock hitting you perfectly with every single thrust.
When Jun’s hand tightens around your throat, your hand moves quickly to grab his forearm out of fear of what he is going to do to you. Jun smirks at your reaction before his expression softens. He could tell you were scared, but he needed to show you there was nothing to be scared of.
Watching you carefully, Jun watches your lips fall open in pleasure as your walls tighten around him, your orgasm taking you back over the edge before he squeezes your neck just tight enough that you can’t catch your breath. You feel yourself let go; your brain goes fuzzy, but as soon as you relax around Jun, his hand loosens around your neck and his lips press to your cheek.
“Breathe. A big, deep breath for me, beautiful. There you go. Tell me how fucking good that felt?”
You find it hard to think straight, much less speak, as Jun lifts your knee to his hip, burying his cock so deep that you feel like he is in your stomach. Groaning against your neck, Jun turns his head to press his lips against your soft skin before latching on to it, sucking a deep mark so that you will remember where he was as his climax rolls through him.
With every thrust, Jun pushes his cum back into you until he finally comes to a stop with his hips pressed against yours. Feeling your thighs trembling on either side of him, Jun smiles against your neck with a groan. He knew he needed to move, get you cleaned up, and get all of his cum out of you, but keeping his cock and his cum in you was too tempting. You were warm, tight, and wet. Jun could get used to being inside of you and he could get used to the idea of stuffing you full of his cum.
Leaning back to look down at you, Jun tilts his head as he studies you. He wanted to get to know you better. He wanted to be able to just look at you and read your mind, he wasn’t at the point yet. If he wanted to know something now, he’d have to ask and hope that you told him the truth or that he knew you at least well enough that if you lied to him, he’d know.
“Mm, wasn’t that better than going out, darling?”
Sighing, you can’t stop yourself before you roll your eyes, causing Jun to laugh at your reaction. That was better than lying to him. You were a brat, but he was going to have fun breaking you out of it. Running his finger over your cheek, Jun watches you bite your lip as you run your thigh along his hip to rest your foot over his ass to get comfortable under him.
“It was fun, but I’d still like to go out.”
Taking a breath, Jun narrows his eyes before looking to the side at his computer, which luckily hadn’t fallen off his desk while fucking you. He remembered the pictures of several of his ruined cars and what it could mean for you if you were found by the prick who wanted you. You didn’t understand, and you didn’t really know the situation. Maybe he could compromise with you.
“Tomorrow... for no more than an hour, but you go with Minghao. You aren’t going anywhere alone. Do I make myself clear, Y/N?”
Meeting your eyes, Jun waits for you to nod before he leans to press his lips to yours. A groan slips from his lips as he slowly slips his cock out of you. Your brows furrow at the feeling of being empty and the sticky feeling of cum between your legs.
Stretching his back, Jun glances between your thighs, only to smirk at the sight of his cum starting to drip out of you. He feels his cock already twitch as he feels aroused at the sight. Shaking his head, he runs his fingers through your sensitive folds, pushing two fingers into you and slowly meeting your eyes as your mouth falls open in surprise.
“Mm, what? I don’t want my cum to drip on the floor. You can handle one more, can’t you, honey?”
Glancing over at you, one hand on the wheel, the other resting his thumbnail against his lips, Minghao listens to your sigh as you look at your phone. When he got to the penthouse, he could tell things were different. The air felt different, you looked different, and Jun looked even cockier. But then Jun had grabbed your chin and kissed you so hard that Minghao was sure he had knocked you out, and he knew what was different.
“You fucked him?”
Minghao had been quiet, uncharacteristically so, since he had gotten to the penthouse. You enjoyed Minghao’s company, even before all the drama or before what had happened between you and Jun, so his acting so odd was making you feel unsettled. You were trying to distract yourself and enjoy the feeling of not being cooped up in the penthouse when Minghao’s words shocked you back to reality.
“I—wha—”
“It’s actually not a question. I don’t know why I asked it like that. I know you did. He’s even cockier than normal.”
You feel heat rising along your neck and face as Minghao rolls his neck, a hint of annoyance dripping off his tongue with each word. Why did he care? Was he jealous? Furrowing your brows, you shift in the seat of Mingyu’s G Wagon. You were embarrassed and looking for anything else to talk about.
“I—uh. Why aren’t we… Where is your Ferrari? Did you bring Mingyu’s car to be less conspicuous? ‘Cause I don’t think a G Wagon is much better.”
Rolling his eyes, Minghao leans his head back, glancing over at you with a smirk. He could tell you were flustered and deflecting. It wasn’t going to work.
“Cute, nice try, doll. Uh, I hate this tank. It’s big and unnecessary, just like Gyu. But my car…”
Sighing, Minghao furrows his brows, looking out at the road turning onto the highway that would lead him towards your apartment. He didn’t like that it was where you wanted to go, but it was your request, and Jun had told him, “anywhere she wants to go for an hour”.
“It’s seen better days. It was in the garage when all the others got fucked.”
Furrowing your brows, you give Minghao a confused look, making him give you one right back before his face changes. Jun hadn’t told you what had happened and he had said too much. Clearing his throat, Minghao shakes his head and the corners of his lips turn down as he shrugs, trying to think of how to fix his big mouth.
“Minghao… What happened? You were the one who would usually tell me shit. Don’t do this to me. Don’t I deserve to know?”
You watch as Minghao lets out a drawn out breath once again, leaning his head back against the leather headrest. His hand tightens on the steering wheel before he nods and curses under his breath. He knew this was stupid and that Jun would be pissed off at him, but you weren’t wrong. You deserved to know.
“There was a hit at the lounge. The garage where Jun keeps his cars?” Minghao’s eyes meet yours to make sure you know what he is talking about. When you nod, he continues looking back out at the road. “Someone set every fucking car in that fuckin’ garage on fire. We got lucky that we have a fire suppression system so it kicked in before it spread to the bar.”
Lifting your hands to your lips, you feel your stomach flip with anxiety. You knew Jun had told you about some property damage but the way he had said it, you thought perhaps there was some graffiti on the side of the building or broken windows. This was more than some simple property damage. They were trying to kill people or at least make a point.
Minghao nods, seeing your reaction out of the corner of his eye as he pulls into your building complex’s parking lot. His eyes scan the parking lot before he reaches over your lap to open the glove box, taking out a 9 mm. Meeting your eyes, he lifts his brow at your reaction as he slips the gun into the back of his jeans.
“I just told you what happened at the bar; you think I’m going anywhere without one? Besides, you think I went anywhere without one before? Come on, doll... Use your head. Your time is ticking; your boyfriend wants you home soon.”
Not waiting for your response, Minghao opens his door and slides out of the car, the door slamming hard and making you sigh loudly. You wanted to tell him that Jun wasn’t your boyfriend, but in truth, you weren’t even sure what he was. By the time you start to get out of the car, Minghao has your door open, his brows lifted at your delayed movement. Rolling your eyes, you slide off the seat and stand next to him, closer than you anticipated, as he meets your eyes, letting them fall to your lips once before looking up and away.
Your breath quickens, and your heart begins to race even from the small look shared by the two of you. You find yourself wondering if he had felt the small thing or if you were just too much in your head after everything that had happened between you and Jun in such a short amount of time. Taking your wrist in his hand, Minghao’s eyes scan the parking lot as he slides the keys into his leather jacket, pulling you alongside him towards the building.
“You are walking so fast, Minghao... Why are you mad at me?”
Rolling his eyes at your question, Minghao uses his shoulder to push the door open, letting you move past him before he follows you, taking your hand in his to keep you close to him. You furrow your brows at the feeling, but as he keeps looking behind the two of you until you reach your apartment door, you can only frown at him until he finally answers, letting you take out your keys.
“I’m… It’s not that. I’m not mad at you. I’m doing a fucking job, Y/N. Stop—”
Reaching up with your key, you put your hand on your door when Minghao tells you to stop, but you feel your door giveaway under your touch. Your question had distracted him just enough that he hadn’t noticed the way your door looked ajar. Grabbing your wrist, Minghao pulls you behind him as he uses the other to take out the gun, flipping the safety with his thumb before pushing the door open with his shoulder, ready to pull the trigger if necessary.
You feel your heart in your throat as you cling to Minghao’s leather jacket, your fingernails scratching at the leather out of nerves. He keeps his hand on you even as he kicks your door back in place behind the two of you, not wanting someone to come in behind him. You swallow hard, afraid to close your eyes but also too afraid to peek around Minghao’s arm, nervous that someone will be there and that you will see him use his gun.
“I’m gonna move my hand, Y/N. Stay behind me; you got it.”
Nodding against his back, you sniff back tears, glancing down at your floor and seeing your things scattered. It was obvious that someone had been in your apartment and they were either looking for something or they were mad you weren’t there.
Minghao curses under his breath at the state of your apartment. It had only been a few days since he had been there. You kept a clean, organized place, and now your couch was turned over, your entertainment center was on the floor, and the TV was shattered. He could see empty frames, the pictures taken, or at least you were ripped out of the pictures.
Taking each room slowly, Minghao’s anxiety calms down with each one until he finally realizes that no one is there. Turning to face you, he cups your face with one hand, wiping your tears with his thumb as he puts the safety back on his gun, putting it back into his jeans. Taking out his cellphone, Minghao puts it to his ear and you hear Jun’s voice muffled against his ear as you finally look around, letting out a sob.
Jun sits up, hearing the sound of your fear and sorrow. He was ready to stand up and walk out the door if necessary, but Minghao’s sigh made his brows furrow. Something was wrong, but Minghao didn’t seem distressed, just pissed.
“What the fuck is going on, Hao?”
Lifting your head so he can wipe the other side of your face as you cry, Minghao shushes you, moving you to sit on your bed among some of your clothes that had been pulled from your closet and drawers. He watches you carefully as you pick up one of your dresses, your fingers holding it up realizing it had been ripped to the point that it wasn’t something you could repair. They had destroyed anything they could get their hands on to make a point.
"Fuckers broke into her place. They ransacked it, took pictures, and ripped up her shit.”
Jun’s teeth grind together for multiple reasons. One, he hadn’t wanted you to go back to your apartment. He knew that if this was reversed and he was going after someone, that was the first place he would sit, waiting for the mark to come back. Two, he was furious that they had gone through your stuff and taken personal items. This was worse than his cars. He could replace those, but could he repair your sense of security?
“I—are you fucking stupid? Get her out of there. I’m gonna kill the son of a bitch. Bring her home, Minghao! Or I’ll come get her myself.”
Jaw clenched at Jun’s words, Minghao listens to the phone go silent as Jun hangs up on him. He knew he was upset with him, but he also didn’t blame him. He hadn’t wanted to bring you here in the first place, but Minghao hadn’t wanted to upset you by telling you no. Maybe you needed to get used to hearing it from him.
“Come on, Y/N. I’m taking you home.”
Scoffing, you gesture around you as Minghao talks about taking you home.
“I am at home!”
Shaking his head, Minghao grabs your arm, pulling you up with some force and making you whine before he leans to rest his forehead against yours, muttering an apology. He didn’t want to scare you, but he needed you to understand how serious this was.
“I’m taking you back to Jun. I’m taking you home. Don’t fucking argue with me.”
You swallow hard, your eyes meeting Minghao’s eyes so close. You nod and lick your lips, turning your arm in his grasp. You wrap your hand around his wrist to make him relax his grip on you. Feeling his body relax under your touch, you nod again, and Minghao tilts his head back to press his lips against your forehead before sighing.
“Good girl. We’ll keep you safe.”
Minghao rests his hand on the small of your back as he watches you kick your shoes off in the entryway of the penthouse. You glance up, hearing Jun’s voice along with another you didn’t recognize. Turning to look at Minghao, he leans his head to the side, gesturing for you to go on as he lets out a breath, hearing how annoyed Jun was.
“Of course it’s Park Bonhwa. Don’t ask stupid fucking questions, Wonwoo. I pay you to be smart and get shit done.”
Looking up at you and Minghao as you move into the living room, Jun narrows his eyes at Minghao before he meets your eyes and sits up, extending his hand for you. You look towards the dark haired man sitting across from Jun as he pushes his glasses up his nose, his eyes avoiding yours as if he knows not to look at you for too long.
Taking Jun’s hand, you take a breath, feeling his thumb press into your palm. You watch as his brows lift, his eyes studying you, moving over every inch of you that he can see as if looking for any signs of injury. It’s only when he is satisfied to see you in one piece, with no damage, that Jun gently tugs at your hand, guiding you to sit down next to him.
“Are you okay? I’m sorry about your place, darling. Use my card to buy what you need, okay?”
You sigh, leaning into Jun’s touch as his fingers move over your cheek as if he has forgotten who was in the room, or more like he doesn’t care. Minghao pushes his tongue against his cheek, moving to the armchair near where you and Jun are sitting. You turn to meet his eyes, pulling away from Jun only slightly to do so, causing the man holding your hand to purse his lips.
“I don’t sue people, Wonwoo. I get even. He’s always been pathetic, but this is a new level of low.”
Wonwoo leans back on the sofa, glancing over to meet Minghao’s eyes as Jun speaks. He didn’t disagree with anything that he had learned or that was being said, but it wasn’t as black or white as Jun was trying to make it out to be. Shaking his head, Wonwoo drums his fingers on his thighs, tilting his head, before he looks back over towards you and Jun.
“He has his fingers in a lot of pots. His casino looks reputable, so I can’t touch that, but... we know that the—” Wonwoo laughs into his words, repeating Jun’s back to him, “‘trash’, had weaknesses. They were at your bar for a reason, right, Minghao?”
Shifting beside you, Jun lifts his hand, stopping Wonwoo and Minghao before they start. There was too much business talk with you present—too much that you didn’t need to know. There were still plenty of things that Jun was trying to protect you from. Both men freeze at just Jun lifting his hand, waiting for him to turn and look at you, a smile on his lips as he brushes his fingers over your cheek.
“Go get my card off my desk and the laptop. I want you to go into the bedroom and shop.”
Narrowing your eyes, you shake your head. You knew what Jun was trying to do. You wanted to know what was going on. You didn’t want to shop and be sent away as things were whispered just out of earshot from you.
“I—no. I don’t want to. Just talk. Why can’t I stay? I wanna know what’s going on, Jun. They fucked up my apartment. They took pictures of me and my family. I deserve to know!”
Minghao glances down at his hands in his lap as you dare to raise your voice at Jun. He didn’t disagree with you, but he also didn’t disagree with Jun. He understood why Jun was keeping you in the dark for so much of this. Jun was trying to keep you pure and fragile. Minghao was just worried that if he kept you fragile for too long, you might shatter.
Clenching his jaw when you raise your voice, Jun tightens his hand on your face, his thumb pressing against your jaw as his fingers hold your cheek, keeping your eyes on his. He could feel you try to turn from him, but he wasn’t going to let you. He knew you were upset, and maybe another day he would allow it, but today wasn’t the day for it. Today wasn’t the day for you to get bold and have strong opinions.
“Shut up. Don’t raise your voice at me again, understand me? I adore you, Y/N, but I won’t take that shit. You have no goddamn idea what’s going on or what I’m doing for you. So do as I told you and I’ll explain things later.”
Your heart sinks into your stomach when Jun tells you to shut up. You have mixed feelings about the man sitting in front of you and what he is saying to you. On one hand, you are furious that he would talk to you like that, especially in front of other people and on the other hand, you find yourself feeling bad for yelling at him. He was right; you didn’t understand and you should be grateful, but how were you supposed to understand if he never told you?
Loosening his grip on your face, Jun watches as your eyes widen only for a few seconds before you nod and lift your hand to wrap it around his wrist. He wasn’t trying to be an asshole to you; he was trying to protect you, even if that meant protecting you from yourself. Leaning in to brush his lips over yours, Jun sighs softly before he pulls back and lets go of you completely.
Sitting for a moment longer, you let your eyes move past Jun to Minghao, who runs his fingers over his lips. Feeling your eyes on him, he glances up to meet yours before looking away quickly. It was clear who was in charge in the room and it wasn’t him or you.
Jun watches you do as he told you to, the door to his office opening, the sound of you moving around for a few minutes before you come back out with a laptop against your chest and his black card in your hand. You walk past the men, meeting Jun’s eyes as he gives you a wink and gestures towards the bedroom.
You knew he probably wanted you to close the door but you also knew that from the living room, unless he stood up and looked, there was no way for him to know. Sitting down on the bed with a loud exhale, you open the laptop and type in a clothing brand to the search bar as you strain your ears to listen to the conversation happening a couple of rooms away.
Running his index finger against his lips, Jun furrows his brows, not hearing the sound of the bedroom door closing. He knew you were probably trying to be sneaky, thinking he wouldn’t know, but he also didn’t have time to deal with every little detail today. At least you weren’t in the room so close that you could catch every word. Turning his attention to Minghao, Jun narrows his eyes as his best friend takes in a deep breath, already ready to be berated for what had happened.
“What the fuck were you thinking?”
Leaning his head back, Minghao lifts his hands off the arms of the chair with a scoff.
“That she wanted to get some more of her shit from her place and that I was with her so I could protect her. You aren’t the only one who gives a shit—”
Stopping short, Minghao glances back over to Jun, who is obviously biting at his cheek. Taking in a breath to calm himself down, Minghao sits up straighter, leaning over his legs as Wonwoo chews at his lips, feeling like he shouldn’t be there for this conversation.
“I’m sorry. I fucked up. I’ll run everything by you, always, from now on. Alright?”
Jun waits a moment, letting Minghao sit in his fuckup, before he nods and looks back over to Wonwoo, who looked like he was trying to be anywhere other than where he was. He liked Jeon Wonwoo; he was a talented lawyer with less than pristine morals. He paid him well for those questionable morals and they were going to come in handy today.
“I’m going to check on Y/N and then I want to go to the bar. Wonwoo, I want you to come with me. I want Bonhwa on the phone or in my office this afternoon. I’m tired of this bullshit.”
Sitting up and lifting his right hand as if to stop Jun before he stands, Wonwoo shakes his head and laughs, obviously confused.
“What— wait? You want to meet with him? Are you sure that’s a good idea?”
Minghao knew that Jun didn’t like to be questioned. Minghao also knew that Wonwoo knew that so he wasn’t sure why the man would be asking that, but he watched Jun scoff, looking down at his hands as he ran his fingers over his rings.
“I didn’t ask you for your fucking opinion. I told you what I paid you for. Get on your damn phone and make it happen. I’ll be back out here in about…” Looking at his watch, Jun shrugs a smirk on his face already knowing what he had planned. “Fifteen minutes, and then we can go. Minghao, you can stay here and babysit properly this time.”
Starting to speak, Minghao stops when Jun walks around him, slapping his hand down on his shoulder hard before moving through the kitchen towards the open bedroom door. Shaking his head, Jun leans against the doorframe, wondering how long it will take for you to realize he is there as you pout at the laptop in front of you.
“Bought anything cute?”
You had been trying to listen for more conversation, but it had gone silent. You hadn’t expected Jun to speak again so close to you. Jumping, you look towards him, lifting your hand to your chest in surprise, as if protecting your heart. Smirking, Jun moves further into the room, shutting the door behind him and pointing at it as it clicks closed.
“You know how to do that, don’t you? Close doors behind you?”
Rolling your eyes, you look away from him as Jun teases you. Your attitude amuses Jun, a smirk lifting at his lips as you turn your attention back to the laptop, clicking to add a few things to your cart without looking at them too closely. Now you are spending his money out of spite? He could already feel his cock getting hard.
“Aw, Princess, are you that pissed at me? Making me have to correct how you talk to me, and now you are just spending money to spend it?”
Looking up at Jun as you press buy, you lift your brow, not even looking at the total. You watch as his smirk grows and his head shakes. You needed an attitude adjustment. It wasn’t that he didn’t enjoy watching you spend his money; quite the opposite. In fact, he knew he could probably get off on it, looking over his bank statement, knowing that you had bought yourself nice things with his money, but doing it just to make him mad?
“Close the laptop and slide it out of the way. You need a reminder of a few things, kitten.”
Using your middle finger, you push the laptop closed as Jun chuckles in amusement, his hands already undoing his belt. He could see how you were looking at him. He could tell you were a fan of make-up sex, but that wasn’t what he was giving you. This was a punishment, you’d figure that out in time.
“Lick your fingers.”
Furrowing your brows, you pause for a beat until Jun lifts his brows making you rethink not listening to him. He watches you lift your right hand carefully, running your tongue along the length of your fingers as he pulls his cock from his pants standing in front of you. Running his fingers over your hair, Jun tilts his head knowing your eyes were on his cock, your lips parting wondering if you were going to ask him to put it in your mouth. You didn’t deserve it.
“Hand on my cock, darling. You know what to do. Make me cum, maybe then I’ll know how sorry you are.”
Wrapping your hand around Jun’s cock, you start to stroke him, only to stop at the last sentence he says. You were apologetic about some things, but not all of them. Starting to defy Jun, you loosen your fingers when his hand wraps around yours keeping you in place.
“This little fucking attitude you have today… I’m really damn tired of it. I let you go out, gave you someone to go with you and you used him to go the one place you knew I didn’t want you to go. Use your hand, Y/N or I won’t give you a fucking thing.”
Your breath quickens, your thighs pushing together as Jun looks down at you. You could see the disappointment and lust in his eyes. It was a strange mix, but it was making you feel so many things. You wanted him to forgive you, for it all. You were mad that you had upset him and you wanted him to make you feel good too.
Using your hand, Jun strokes himself a few times before letting you take it back over. You circle his tip with your palm, earning yourself a groan from his throat, before you quicken your pace, wanting to get your prize.
“Fuck, much better. See how good you can be? When you wanna be good?”
Biting at your bottom lip, you whine, shifting on the bed, trying to get some relief from the ache between your legs. You can feel how wet you’ve gotten from just jerking Jun off, listening to his lewd groans, and feeling his eyes burn at your skin as he stares at you.
“Ah–yes! Hold it tighter, shit… stick your tongue out, baby.”
Doing as you are told, you look up at Jun, feeling his hand wrap around yours again, putting more pressure around the base of his cock when you feel warm cum hit your tongue, lips, and chin. Leaning his head back, he smiles as his cock starts to soften in your grip. Sliding your hand under his, Jun shivers, feeling your fingers move over his head, his cum coating your fingers before he takes a step back, pushing himself back into his pants.
Looking down at your hand, you bring it to your lips, licking it clean for a moment, until you realize that Jun isn’t moving over to you. You watch as he uses the mirror on the dresser to fix his hair and jacket before clearing his throat. Meeting your eyes in the mirror, Jun grins at your shocked expression.
“What? Horny? You can wait. I’ll be back in a few hours. Hao is going to stay with you. Be a good girl.”
Your eyes follow Jun out of the room, a smirk on his lips as he moves back into the living room to find Wonwoo’s eyes attempting to stare into the coffee table. Minghao simply glances up at his best friend, rolling his eyes and letting a scoff slip from between his lips.
“You’re disgusting.”
Shrugging, Jun rolls his shoulders, looking over to Wonwoo gesturing for the man to move.
“Did you call him?”
Nodding, Wonwoo gets to his feet quickly, his fingers moving to push his glasses back up his nose as he tries to keep his composure after hearing Jun’s loud groans.
“I…yeah I did. He’s gonna be there in an hour. Said he wants a sample of your product for his time. I told him I’d see what I could do.”
Rolling his eyes, Jun glances back to Minghao as he grabs his keys, lifting his hands in question. Standing up, Minghao nods, and lets out a breath, taking out his cellphone and pressing on Mingyu’s name before putting the phone up to his ear.
“Hey, boss is coming in. No, shut the fuck up. I’m not bringing the wagon back. Listen to me, you fuck! The new product is in, on my end, a gram, nah, two. Put it on his desk.”
Nodding at Jun, Minghao sighs into the phone as Mingyu continues, even as Jun and Wonwoo close the door behind them.
“The fucker that—”
Stopping when he sees you standing in the kitchen with a scowl on your face, Minghao clears his throat and furrows his brows, turning away from you.
“He’s got an appointment. Get your shit together and watch his back. He’s got the lawyer with him, so you know how fucking useless he is. I don’t give a shit if you like him.”
Running your tongue along your teeth, you cross your arms, moving to lean against the end of the kitchen island, watching Minghao closely. You hadn’t exclusively promised to be good when Jun had told you to and he had left you in a less than ideal situation. You watch as Minghao shakes his head, putting his phone back into his pocket, his fingers running through his longer black hair before he turns back to look at you, his eyes moving over you from head to toe, finally landing on your eyes.
“Why do you look so pissed? Didn’t you just get fucked?”
The urge to throw something at Minghao is strong, but you can’t find anything at arm's length. Instead, you just stomp your feet and move towards the couch, falling onto it with a whine. Following you with his eyes, Minghao tilts his head before following you to sit on the arm of the couch, looking you over curiously.
“Why the fuck are you being so dramatic?”
Staring up at him, you can still feel how wet you are from Jun’s teasing. Your eyes move over Minghao’s face, his neck, and the low cut of his t-shirt under his leather jacket. You dare to let them move further to his black jeans, the slight bulge that you had always looked away from out of respect, but now you were so horny you could die. Maybe he was right, you were being dramatic.
His brow raised, Minghao can almost feel your eyes moving over his body, but when they rest over his lap, he can’t help the smirk that pulls up at his lips. Maybe Jun hadn’t fucked you. Was that your problem? Had he left you all hot and bothered?
Minghao knew he should respect you and Jun, especially the latter when it came to boundaries. He knew that Jun would probably kick his ass if he touched you, but maybe he could have a little fun. It was too tempting when you were looking at him like a five course meal and rubbing your thighs together. How had he not noticed that before?
“Ah…aww, doll. Did he leave you untouched? What did he do? Let me guess... from the sounds that were coming from that room, I’m gonna assume he got his rocks off, but he didn’t let his little kitten cum.”
Your eyes widen at Minghao’s words as you sit up on the couch, sliding your legs up towards your stomach. Were you that transparent? Of course, you were. It wasn’t like you were being inconspicuous with how you were looking at Minghao and you were panting like a cat in heat.
Laughing under his breath, Minghao slides down to sit on the couch, sliding his legs apart just enough that he wonders if you would picture yourself on your knees between them. He wonders if you would let him fuck you if he asked. Were you that wound up? He had to keep himself in line. Walk it but never cross it.
“Shut up…”
Your voice is so quiet that Minghao can’t help but lean closer to hear you better. You take in a deep breath and his cologne almost makes you moan. Biting your bottom lip, you look down at your knees as Minghao lifts his eyes to look at your face, his fingers brushing over your cheek, amused to find your skin hot under his touch.
“Isn’t that what Jun told you to do earlier? Is that what he did? Shut you up with his dick? Is that all it takes? A little cock and you straighten up your act.”
Leaning back from Minghao’s touch, you listen to him laugh again, his finger extending so he can tap your nose. Crossing his leg over his knee, Minghao takes a deep breath before sliding his phone out of his pocket to check his messages. Now he was going to ignore you. Granted, he did have a few messages from Mingyu and Jun, but he could also see you shifting beside him. It was cute to watch you squirm.
“Oh my god, doll. Did he say you couldn’t fuck your fingers or something? Or is that an unspoken rule? You are killing me. Making me feel bad for you.”
Whining, you cross your arms and turn away from Minghao. No, Jun hadn’t said specifically that you couldn’t take care of yourself, but you had a strong feeling that it was an unspoken rule. He had told you to be good, but it was getting harder and harder to figure out how to walk that line and again, you hadn’t promised.
“I—he told me to be good.” Sighing into your words, you glance back over to Minghao as he smirks at his phone, answering a message from Jun. “You smell good, Minghao.”
Lifting his brow, Minghao glances at you from the corner of his eye, hitting send on his text before lowering his phone to his lap.
“That so, doll? You so horny you are gonna try to fuck the help?”
Minghao watches your lips tighten into a frown. You shake your head, your brows furrowing tightly. You apparently didn’t approve of what he had said.
“You aren’t the help. Why would you call yourself that? You are Jun’s best friend. You are his most trusted—whatever it is that you do at the bar. I just know that you are important to him. You are important to me. Don’t call yourself the fucking help.”
That hadn’t been the point of what he was trying to say, but your words make Minghao swallow hard. He had been trying to tease you more, but now his mouth felt dry. He was important to you. You thought he was important to Jun. He was trying not to let that go to his head.
Jun pushes his tongue into his cheek as he flicks his finger against the baggie held between his thumb and forefinger. Mingyu had done exactly what Minghao had told him to do. There had been two gram bags on his desk when he had walked in, but looking at them now, he knew he wasn’t giving some piece of shit, low-life both of them. His eyes lift to Wonwoo, who sits across from him in one of the leather chairs as he slips one of the baggies into his jacket before leaning back in his chair, lifting his hands out of impatience.
“I’m getting real fuckin’ tired of waiting, Wonwoo.”
He had started to complain, Wonwoo shifting in his chair, ready to take the heat, when a knock at his office door drew Jun’s attention towards it. Sliding his hand down to his lap, Jun reaches under his desk for the .45 hidden in a holster he had fitted to the underside of a drawer. He didn’t know what to expect after all the bullshit that had happened, but he wasn’t taking any chances.
“Come in.”
Mingyu pushes the door open and gestures for the man to go in. Lifting his brow towards Jun, Mingyu uses his facial expression to ask the question he wants answered without words. Jun simply gives the man a nod to let him know he is okay, but he watches as Mingyu narrows his eyes at the back of Park Bonhwa’s head, pulling the door shut, leaving it cracked as he stands outside of it.
Looking around the room, Park Bonhwa grins, taking it all in. He was mildly successful. He owned a casino and ran a nice little underground operation of his own. Granted, it wasn’t as “clean” as Jun’s, but that was why he had sent his men into the Moonlight Lounge in the first place. He wanted to know where Jun got his coke, where he got his guns, and how he kept his nose so fucking clean.
Meeting Jun’s eyes, Bonhwa lifts his brows before looking over to Wonwoo, chuckling under his breath. That was half of the answer to his questions. A good lawyer who could sweep shit under the rug. He knew who Jeon Wonwoo was and he knew what Jeon Wonwoo could do in a courtroom.
Sliding into the chair next to the lawyer, Bonhwa gestures towards the baggie in front of Jun as he sucks on his teeth. That was, hopefully, the answer to another question. The cocaine looked clean. It didn’t look like it was cut with anything, which meant Jun was making bank off of pure product.
“That mine? You being that stingy with it, Wen?”
Rolling his eyes, Jun picks up the bag between two fingers, tossing it towards the end of his desk, letting Bonhwa have to reach out to stop it from falling to the floor. Narrowing his eyes, Bonhwa scoffs, holding the bag up to the light before opening it and dipping a finger into the powder.
“That’s a gram that I’m giving you from the generosity of my heart when you deserve nothing. I should beat your ass into the ground, but I don’t like getting blood on my clothes. I hate blood on my shoes.”
Smirking at Jun’s gall, Bonhwa presses his pinky to his tongue, tasting the coke with a tilt of his head. He knew he could get more for this than he was getting for the meth he was running out of the casino, but meth was cheaper and it was hard to find something this pure without an in.
“Such a bitch when I’m the one holding the cards. You can’t touch me and you know it. You fucked me over. Three of my best guys, dead because of some little bitch. So now what do I gotta do?”
Wonwoo starts to speak, hearing the sound of the holster under Jun’s desk click, but Bonhwa tsks, moving his jacket to show Jun his own gun. Closing the baggie in his hand, the man slips it into his jacket and glances at Wonwoo with a smile before looking back at Jun.
“I’d have his brains on the wall before you got that gun from under your desk and even if you managed to shoot me, you think I don’t know where your whore is?” Bonhwa unholsters his gun, laying it in his lap, his thumb flicking the safety off as he leaves it pointed in the direction of Wonwoo. “I had them take her pictures from her apartment for a reason. Her face is in the hands of every single man on my payroll.”
Jun’s jaw tightens, his eyes on the gun in Bonhwa’s lap, as Wonwoo’s fingers tighten on the arm of the chair under him. Cursing under his breath, Jun moves his hand from under his desk, showing the man in front of him that he didn’t bring his gun with him so that he wouldn’t kill his lawyer.
“Your men touched something they shouldn’t have. Can you blame me for protecting something that belongs to me? You’d react the same way.”
Nodding, Bonhwa flicks the safety back in place but keeps his gun on his lap, looking back over to Jun.
“You took three from me. Three for one woman. Doesn’t seem fair now, does it? The way I see it, you owe me an eye for an eye.”
Jun narrows his eyes, watching Bonhwa smirk, a laugh slipping from his lips as he adjusts in his seat, lifting his hand to gesture towards him.
“Or something of equal value. Information perhaps, like where your product is shipped in from.”
Wonwoo meets Jun’s eyes and gives him a quick shake of his head to tell him to keep that information to himself. Jun starts to speak when Bonhwa’s hand moves quicker than his, the gun smacking Wonwoo across the side of the head with a deafening thud. Moving to his feet quickly, Jun hears the door open as Bonhwa laughs at being pulled up from his chair by Mingyu.
With his hand to his head, Wonwoo blinks as blood runs down his face, his glasses in his lap, listening to the sounds of fists hitting muscle. He groans at the pain radiating through his head and face as Bonhwa laughs through his own pain before Jun tells Mingyu to stop.
With his hand in Bonhwa’s shirt, Jun pulls him close, putting his own gun against his jaw as Mingyu pins him against the wall. He wants to pull the trigger, but he knows what problems that could bring him. There was enough happening right now, but if he killed Park Bonhwa, his entire organization would come down on him and he wasn’t prepared for something like that.
“I will give you nothing! Do you fucking understand?!”
Reaching into the man’s pocket, Jun takes the baggie out of it, throwing it on the ground as he pushes Bonhwa into Mingyu’s chest, taking a step back from them both.
“Not my information and not my woman. Get the fuck out of my sight. If I see you again, if I see any of your men, it’s on sight. That’s your last fucking warning, Park.”
Laughing still as he’s dragged out of the building, Bonhwa grunts when Mingyu pushes him against the side of the Cadillac. Pulling the gun from his side, when two men step out to help their boss, the large man points the weapon at them and gestures with his head towards the bleeding man.
“He got his warning; now I’ll give you yours. Stay the fuck away from the bar and from Mr. Wen, his employees, and associates. If you get near Miss Y/L/N again, I’ll stick my gun up your ass.”
Narrowing his eyes at Mingyu, one of the men starts to take a step forward when the other shakes his head, pointing towards Bonhwa, who groans in pain, holding his side.
“Sounds like he’s got some broken ribs. Take your daddy home and patch him up.”
Inside Jun’s office, Jun hands a bottle of whiskey to Wonwoo as he takes a knee in front of him, pushing his head up to look at the damage. He had already thrown the gun he had taken from Bonhwa on his desk with the intention of letting Wonwoo keep it. Clearly, the man needed to learn how to take care of himself.
Taking a sip of the alcohol, Wonwoo hisses as Jun pushes on his brow. Jun could feel the bone shift under his thumb so he knew there was a problem.
“Probably a fracture. I’ll have Mingyu take you to my guy. He’ll get you patched up… I’ll uh… fuck— I’m sorry.”
Shaking his head, Wonwoo winces as he tries to open his eyes, feeling already too swollen to open fully. It wasn’t the first time he had been hit, but it was the first time he had been hit by a gun. He knew the path he was taking was dangerous, but the money was worth it.
“I’ll live. Make today worth my fucking time.”
Nodding, Jun helps Wonwoo to his feet, leaning his head back, and gestures for Mingyu to come in and help him. He watches as Mingyu slides his arm under the lawyer's, helping him walk in a straight line out of the office. Running his hand through his hair, Jun glances back at the gun on his desk and sighs. He would get it to Wonwoo another time. Right now, Jun just wanted to get back to you.
The couple of hours that Jun had been gone had been full of tension for you and Minghao. Between the teasing on his part and the fact that you couldn’t seem to get your mind off the idea of the teasing becoming a reality, you were worse off than you had been before Jun left. So by the time he walked into the living room, you were on your knees on the couch, happy to see him, only for your smile to fade at the annoyed look on his face.
Shaking his head, Jun takes off his jacket and tosses it onto the table before falling back on the couch on the other side of you as Minghao’s eyes fall to the table. Minghao had kept what he knew about the meeting with Park Bonhwa a secret from you. He had done exactly what Jun had wanted and babysat you. He had kept you distracted so that you wouldn’t ask questions, but that didn’t mean that he didn’t know the meeting had gone sour.
Turning towards Jun, you look him over and finally lift his hand into yours, pushing your thumb over the bruising skin. Things hadn’t gone well; one glance back at Minghao and how he was avoiding your eyes told you that he already knew. Why was everyone keeping things from you?
“What happened? Are you okay?”
Jun offers you a half smile, turning his hand in yours to run his fingers along your wrist before he pulls you towards him so that your body rests against his. He didn’t want to talk about Park Bonhwa anymore. He didn’t want to talk about the bar or what had happened. He didn’t want to think at all. He just wanted to let go.
Leaning towards the table, Minghao picks up the baggie that had fallen out of Jun’s pocket, holding it in his palm, before glancing over at his best friend. He knew that Jun would sometimes test the product, sometimes just for recreational purposes, but he hadn’t expected him to bring it with him today. Things must have gone very badly.
Seeing Minghao move, you look back at him and then to his hand at the baggie with white powder. You had seen bags like that at the bar. In particular, you had seen them on the table of the men who had tried to hurt you, but you didn’t know they had come from the bar. You were starting to realize that maybe you were being naive. There was a lot of money that came into the bar and it had to come from somewhere.
“What’s that?” You try to think of different drug names, tilting your head as you reach for the baggie, only for Minghao to keep it from your reach. “Meth?”
Scoffing, Jun looks at you incredulously, as if you’ve offended him. Leaning forward, he puts out his hand for Minghao to put the baggie into his hand. Once he has it, he holds it between his fingers and lifts his brow, looking at it in the light.
“Meth is for poor people, darling. People who sell that are weak and desperate. This is cocaine, sophisticated and pure. I like pure things.”
Minghao knew that Jun wasn’t really upset with you. He knew that Jun was talking more about Park Bonhwa and his business. You had no way to know who sold what when you didn’t even know the real ins and outs of Jun’s business.
Furrowing your brows, you look at the baggie in Jun’s hand before sitting back and trying to understand what he was telling you. You had never done drugs in your life. You drank some, but even that was social. You were starting to understand what Jun had meant by this world breaking you. It was a lot darker than you realized, but you wanted to understand it. You wanted to understand Jun.
Looking over at Minghao, Jun purses his lips, seeing how close he was sitting to you. He hadn’t even noticed when he had gotten back. He hadn’t assessed the situation, but clearly something had happened while he was gone. Lifting his brow, Jun tilts his head, leaning back, to give you a good once over as he watches your ears practically smoke at how hard you were thinking.
“Baby, don’t worry so much. This isn’t part of your job. Your job is to look pretty and keep up with me. Keep me on schedule. You don’t need to understand what’s behind the curtain.” Smirking, Jun watches you pout as he lifts his hand to push his thumb against your chin. “What I wanna know is if you had a good time with Hao while I was out.”
Shrugging, you glance over to Minghao as he takes a deep breath and looks away. He had been so confident before Jun had gotten home. You were having fun with him. He was teasing you and you were flirting with him; now he was acting like a scared puppy.
“Kinda… I like spending time with Minghao, but you are both mean to me.”
Jun smirks at your words, a curious look on his face as Minghao looks up, suddenly shifting a bit nervously at what you might be telling Jun. Lifting his hand to stop Minghao before he starts, Jun runs the fingers of his other hand along your thigh as he nods for you to continue.
“Tell me what you mean. How are we both mean to you?”
Deciding to just bite the bullet, you sigh, feeling Minghao’s hand slide against your leg, trying to grab your wrist in an effort to ask for mercy. The look in Jun’s eye tells you that maybe he doesn’t need that mercy.
“Well, you left me wanting after I helped you. I think that was very mean.”
Jun grins, his teeth catching his bottom lip as he shrugs. Taking a breath, he drops his lip as he lets out the breath with a sigh.
“You need a punishment. You need to be reminded that if you have a smart mouth, you don’t get what you want, kitten. But tell me, how was Hao mean to you?”
Glancing over your shoulder at Minghao, Jun smirks at him as he gives him a pleading look, asking for forgiveness before you even speak. Jun wasn’t stupid; he could feel the tension in the room.
“He teased me. He knew I was suffering and that I’m needy but he just teased me the entire time that you were gone. Made me want to break rules and... you know.”
His brows lifting, Jun can’t help the amusement on his face. He wasn’t mad at Minghao for teasing you. He probably would have given him permission to do it if he had asked to, but what was most amusing was that you avoided saying what you wanted. Leaning towards you, Jun grabs your chin gently, brushing his thumb across your lips as Minghao swallows hard, watching carefully.
“I don’t know; tell me. What did he make you want? What rules did you want to break?”
You can feel yourself getting wet all over again. Your thighs push together as you whimper, leaning into Jun’s touch but also feeling the desire to reach back for Minghao, knowing he was so close.
“I—well. He made me want him. You said I belong to you, but I want him too. I wanted to sit on his cock while you were gone and stop feeling so empty since you didn’t give me anything. You were so mean.”
Running his thumb down your lip, Jun chuckles at your confession and how Minghao groans in frustration, afraid of how he will react. Glancing over your shoulder at the other man, Jun meets his eyes and lifts his brow in question, causing Minghao to open and close his mouth a few times before his shoulders sink in defeat.
“Fuck… Yeah, she’s not lying. I teased her. I knew what I was doin’. I’m sorry, alright? I can get the fuck out.”
Starting to stand up, Minghao furrows his brows when Jun leans over you to grab his wrist, pulling him back down.
“I didn’t tell you to fucking leave. Sit your ass down. My kitten wants your cock, Hao.” Smirking to himself, Jun glances at you to see your reaction before he looks back at Minghao. “I upset her. She said I was mean to her. We can’t have that. I need to make it up to her. So I think I should let her have what she wants, don’t you?”
Minghao lets out a breath, trying to wrap his head around what Jun had just said to him as he feels you settle back into the couch. Your cheeks were on fire. You hadn’t expected Jun to actually act on what you had said, and so quickly, but here you were sitting between the two of them.
Shaking his head, Jun watches you and Minghao, a laugh slipping from between his lips as he moves his hand from Minghao to your jaw, turning your face towards him.
“If this happens, there are rules. I don’t share easily. I think you both know that.”
Nodding, you bite at your bottom lip, drawing Jun’s eyes down to your lips as he smirks. He could see Minghao shifting behind you. If the man didn’t want to participate, all he needed to do was get up and leave, but he had a feeling he would stay right where he was until he was told otherwise.
“Hao will wear a condom and he won’t cum in your mouth or on you. Don’t even ask for it. Understand?”
You whine out a small yes, and Jun coos at you, tightening his grip on your chin ever so slightly at how innocent you appear. He knew you weren’t innocent, but you were pure to him, and he planned on keeping you that way. Looking past you to Minghao, Jun lifts his brow, meeting the other man’s eyes before Minghao nods in understanding.
“Good, as long as we all understand who’s house this is and who Y/N belongs to, we can go play. I think it will be a fun night. I could use some fucking fun after today.”
Letting go of your face, Jun swipes the baggie from the couch and puts out his other hand for yours. Looking up at him, you look a little apprehensive until you meet Jun’s eyes and he nods. You knew you could trust him. It was a strange feeling. You didn’t even really understand why you trusted him. You didn’t understand why you wanted to or why you felt the way you did about him. All that mattered was that you did and that made it easy to take his hand and stand up.
Minghao closes his eyes for a moment, running his hand over his mouth, before watching you with Jun. He wanted this. He wanted it more than anything. He had wanted you since the day you had interviewed with Jun, but then he saw the look in Jun’s eyes and it was confirmed by Jun’s words. Then Minghao knew—or thought he knew—you were off limits. Now he was looking at your outstretched hand as you beckoned him to join you and Jun. It was too good to be true, but he wasn’t going to give up the chance, even if it was a one time thing.
Giving the guest room a quick appraising look, Jun drops your hand before sitting at the top of the bed. You stand at the door with Minghao, hand in hand, as the two of you watch him curiously as he opens the nightstand, taking out a strip of condoms and laying them on top of the nightstand next to the baggie.
Furrowing his brows, Jun scoffs at seeing you and Minghao standing like statues in the doorway. Rolling his eyes, he leans his neck from side to side with a groan as he gestures for you to come to him.
“You both act like you haven’t done this before. Come here, baby. You need to loosen up.”
Pouting, you kneel on the bed in front of Jun as he pouts at you, furrowing his brow and teasing you with faux concern at the tense look on your face. His fingers trail over your cheek down to your jaw before his fingers reach your throat, making you swallow hard. Leaning forward, Jun’s lips brush over yours, a smile pulling up at his lips when he hears how your breath hitches from just a simple kiss.
“Are you that touch starved? Did I rile you up that much before I left?”
Nodding to the words spoken on your lips, you whine Jun’s name, reaching up to wrap your hand around his wrist, trying to pull him closer as you push your lips against his. Jun laughs on your lips before pulling back with a sigh, leaning to glance at Minghao in the doorway.
“And Hao didn’t touch you at all. What an asshole.”
Tsking at his best friend, Jun smirks, watching Minghao scoff and roll his eyes. He knew he wasn’t allowed to touch you. He knew what Jun was doing, and now his cock was straining against his jeans at the sight of you on your knees on a bed. Lifting his hand, Minghao sighs, running his hand through his hair as Jun claims your lips once again before pulling back, causing you to whimper at the loss of his kiss.
“Minghao, come here and touch her. It’s what you both want. I’m giving you both a gift tonight. Don’t waste it or my time.”
Swallowing hard, Minghao nods, taking a few steps to kneel on the bed behind you as you glance back at him. Just the heat of your eyes on him has him cursing under his breath and his hands running along your sides, pushing your shirt up your back.
"I—fuck, you are so pretty, doll.”
Smiling at Minghao’s words, you lean back into his chest and his touch so you can feel his breath against your ear. Groaning, Minghao meets Jun’s eyes, getting a nod before he tilts his head and presses his lips to your neck right under your ear, earning himself a soft, happy moan from your lips.
This wasn’t the first time Jun had shared a girl with Minghao before, but this time was different. You were more important. You were different. Watching Minghao’s lips move over your skin sends Jun’s thoughts racing. Some were very good, and others were possessive and bordering on obsessive. Jun knew that if it were anyone else, he would have killed them for even wanting you, but it was Minghao so that made it something he could handle.
As Minghao slides his hands along your stomach, Jun makes a soft sound drawing Minghao’s attention to him. Leaning back, Minghao moves his hands, seeming to understand without words, exactly what Jun wants. You whine breathlessly, not wanting either of them to stop, until you feel both sets of hands undressing you. Both sets of hands are similar, yet you can tell that Minghao’s have more calluses as they scratch at your skin just a bit more roughly. Jun’s fingers are more familiar, but you can feel the possession behind the way he grips at your body, pulling you a bit closer to him as Minghao’s fingers undo your pants, his lips pressed against your bare back.
“My beautiful little kitten is getting spoiled tonight. You like having two men touch you, baby?”
You meet Jun’s eyes, nodding to watch him smirk at you. His thumbs and forefingers roll your nipples between them as Minghao lifts at your hips so he can tug your pants down your legs, a soft groan escaping his throat at the sight of your ass. Jun chuckles at both you and Minghao’s reactions, his eyes falling to his hands as he nods in appreciation of the view in front of him.
“Then you can listen closely tonight, can’t you? Be a good little slut for Daddy.”
Fingers slide around your hip, pulling you back against Minghao. You can’t help but let out a moan, your brows furrowing to the feeling of his bulge, still trapped behind his jeans pushed up against your ass. Jun lifts his brows as he waits for you to answer him. His fingers squeeze your nipples as your back arches against Minghao’s chest and you nod frantically, whining out “yes”.
“That’s all you had to say, Y/N.”
Minghao grins against the back of your neck, speaking between kisses. He was feeling more like himself and bolder with each passing minute. He could feel you wiggle your hips back against his cock and just knowing how badly you wanted him made his ego soar. He knew he could follow Jun’s rules, and he’d do what he had to do to get his cock inside of you.
Jun grins watching you with Minghao, the way your skin erupts with chill bumps at his words and how you nod again, agreeing with him. You were being a very good girl for them both. Sitting back, he lets Minghao get the rest of your clothes off until you are sitting bare in front of them, your cheeks warm as your eyes move from either man, both still fully clothed. Jun just chuckles under his breath as you start to cross your arms to gain some of your modesty back before he lifts his hand, pulling your arm down as he shakes his head.
“Why would you hide how fucking perfect you are?”
Whining, you look him over as if that should answer his question, but one look at his face tells you that he wants words.
“You and Minghao are still dressed. It’s not fair…”
Moving his hand to your chin, Jun leans to press his lips against yours softly, making you relax. He could feel you pouting against your lips, wanting to get your way. Using his free hand, Jun moves your hand to his shirt, the button resting over his chest, feeling you smile against his lips as he lets you undress him for the first time. The way your hands shake as you undo the buttons makes Jun chuckle against your lips until your head drops so you can see what you are doing. The eagerness is evident in the way your breath hitches and you move closer to him, tugging at his shirt to pull it open.
“Careful, kitten. Don’t scratch me.” You whine his name, trying to get Jun to stop teasing you as he smiles, running his fingers over your hair. “Do you want Hao to get undressed too?”
Nodding, you glance back to Minghao, who smiles at you, lifting his hand to run the back of his index finger over your cheek as your fingers rest on Jun’s pants.
“You are spoiled. I never thought I’d see Wen Junhui spoil a girl so rotten.”
His brows raised, Jun tilts his head at Minghao as you bite your lip to keep yourself from smiling too much. Tugging down his zipper, you lift your eyes to meet Jun’s eyes, finding him watching you carefully.
“Is that true? Do I spoil you?”
Jun lifts his hips, letting you help him pull his jeans down his legs, leaving him in just his boxers as he waits for you to answer him. Glancing back at Minghao, you start to chastise him for getting you in trouble with his words until you see him significantly less clothed than he was a few minutes earlier. Your eyes move over his toned torso and down to where his thumbs rest in the top of his boxers, a smirk on his face while he waits for you to answer Jun.
You stumble over your words, finding your mind going blank, only thoughts of Jun and Minghao filling it back up until Jun turns your face back towards him. You feel his fingers press against your jaw as he coos at you, finding the blank expression on your face cute and desperate.
“Answer me, darling.”
Shaking your head, you try to scoot closer to Jun, sliding over his thigh so that your wet folds meet his skin. Jun hisses into a groan at the feeling, his hands moving to your waist to hold you tight, not letting you get any relief.
“Maybe Hao is right.”
With a surprised breath, you find yourself on your back, your wrists pinned to the bed as Jun hovers over you, his knee pressed between your thighs. Arching your back, you rub your lips together as you shake your head, trying to argue. You want to prove that both of them are wrong, but as soon as you can’t feel Jun’s thigh close enough that you can rub yourself on his skin, you manage to do the opposite. A whimpered cry slips from your lips and Jun grins, his thumbs sliding along your wrists to keep you calm.
“My spoiled little princess is already crying before she’s had any cock.” Glancing over his shoulder towards Minghao, Jun lifts his brows and tilts his head towards the nightstand. “Just wait until you hear her while she’s stuffed full of one.”
Groaning under his breath, Minghao slides on the bed towards the nightstand to swipe the strip of condoms from it. Tearing one off, he tosses the rest to the side as his breath quickens at Jun’s words. He could hear your moaned sobs as Jun teased you, and the idea of hearing you be even louder as he fucked you was driving him crazy.
You close your hands into fists, trying to plead with Jun to touch you as you wait for Minghao to put on the condom. You knew Jun didn’t need or want one, so he could so easily slip out of his boxers and bury his cock into your aching pussy... But he only nods to your begging, feeling his cock twitching hard as he practices patience.
“Shh..shh… kitten. Are you that empty? Do you need it that badly?”
Fingers slide through your wet folds and a moan echoes off the walls at the same time as a groan is suppressed behind clenched teeth. Jun knew you’d be wet. He had felt you on his thigh, but feeling just how wet you were after all the teasing as he pushed two of his fingers into you—that was enough to make his cock leak in his boxers.
“Fuck… I don’t think I even need to stretch you. You are so damn wet. Are you that excited about having us both?”
Turning your head, you feel your check burn at Jun’s question, but slender fingers turn your face back towards him. Minghao lifts his brow and you hear Jun laugh as the other man’s thumb pulls at your bottom lip. Your eyes move from either man until you finally meet Jun’s eyes as tears run from the corners of your eyes. You clench around his fingers as he slides a third finger into you, his teeth catching his bottom lip and biting down lightly, waiting for you to answer him.
“Y–yeah. Ah! Jun… please? Please, please… Can I cum?” Licking your lips, you search Jun’s eyes for your answer, but when he doesn’t answer right away, you push him further. “Daddy… please?”
Minghao smirks when you call Jun Daddy. He listens to the way his breath changes, a groan bordering on a growl rising in his friend’s chest as Jun puts his thumb against your clit and his forehead against yours. You were good at getting what you wanted. Minghao wasn’t sure if you even meant it or if you were just using the name to get what you wanted, but either way, it was hot, and you were getting exactly what you were asking for.
With your mouth falling open and Minghao’s hand falling to your throat, you find it hard to make any sound when you cum. Nothing over a gasped breath of a moan makes it out of your lips as your cum seeps around Jun’s fingers. Closing your eyes and feeling your head spin almost as if you are going to pass out from the intensity of your orgasm, you scratch at Minghao’s arm, feeling his fingers lightly tighten around your throat. He wasn’t like Jun when it came to putting his hand on your throat. If it had been Jun’s hand there, you knew it would have felt like danger in the most sinfully erotic way; but Minghao’s hand felt like a necklace, keeping you grounded to the bed as you soared.
Jun groans, sliding his fingers from your tight walls, feeling your body start to relax under him. He knew you wanted more and that you needed more. Glancing over to Minghao, Jun smirks, seeing his friend’s lips parted as he takes in deep breaths, obviously trying to keep himself in check until he is told he could do more.
You lean your head back against the pillows, reaching out for Jun’s arm when you feel him sit up on the bed. Your eyes follow him when he lifts his hips to push his boxers down and he swipes the baggie from the nightstand.
“I’m feeling generous.” Jun’s eyes meet yours, his smirk pulling back up at his lips as you tilt your head, curious to hear his words. “I’m going to let Minghao fuck you first, baby. Let him see what he’s been missing out on.”
Letting out a breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding, Minghao runs his fingers through his hair when you look over at him. You were stunning. He could see where the tears had run along your temples from where you had cried in pleasure from your first orgasm. He could feel his cock almost aching from how hard it was at the idea of being inside of you and being the reason you’d cry again.
“Does that make you happy, kitten?”
Jun watches you and Minghao carefully before turning his attention to the baggie in his hand. Opening it, he turns on the bed, running his fingers along your leg to pull your knee up so that your thigh is exposed and your legs are spread. Not only could he have his way with you in this position but he also knew that Minghao’s eyes were on your pussy now.
He could almost see the man’s mouth watering at the sight of your wet folds. You whine out his name before nodding, your fingers reaching for Jun’s wrist once again, only for him to shake his head and pull away so he can keep doing what he has his mind set on.
“Good girl. I like making you happy. I guess I do spoil you.” Meeting your eyes, Jun bites his bottom lip and lifts his brows as if to make sure you are paying attention to him before he continues. “Keep your leg just like this. Keep being my good girl.”
Running his fingers along your other thigh, Minghao furrows his brows, watching Jun. He had a good idea of what was going to happen, but knowing and seeing were another thing altogether. Taking a deep breath, Minghao shakes his head as Jun taps the baggie against your inner thigh, leaving a small, thin line of powder on your skin. While he didn’t partake in what he sold, that didn’t mean that he couldn’t appreciate the visual or the sentiment.
Your lips part in a small, surprised gasp when you feel Jun lean down to snort the line from your thigh. Without much thought, you run your fingers through his hair, your skin erupting with chill bumps as his nose brushes along your skin. With a small, satisfied groan, Jun hovers over your leg, taking a deep breath in from his nose and feeling his head start to rush. Smiling as the feeling of euphoria spreads over him, Jun presses his lips against your thigh before once again meeting your eyes.
“You are so fucking perfect... Mmm, you wanted to fuck Hao?” Nodding to Jun’s question, as he moves up your body, you smile as he lays over you, his lips hovering yours. “I’ll give you anything you want, princess.”
You could see how Jun’s eyes had dilated. You knew that there were limits to what he would give you on a normal basis, but you hadn’t been with him like this before. Right now, Jun was looking at you like you were his world. You could feel your heart beating hard in your chest as his hands ran along your sides and his lips gently pressed to yours between words.
“My pretty angel. I’m gonna watch you fall apart for him and then I’m gonna fuck you so hard.”
Pulling back from you, Jun leaves you breathless from just his words before he gestures to Minghao and you barely have time to think. Hands slide along your hips as Minghao pulls you on the mattress towards him and kneels between your thighs. Leaning down over you, he smirks at your surprised expression, running his right hand between your breasts as he traces the trail of your tears with his left thumb.
“Is that what you’re going to do, doll? Fall apart for me.”
Nodding quickly, you listen to Minghao laugh almost darkly as his lips glide along your cheek before he finally presses his lips to yours. The kiss doesn’t last for nearly as long as you want it to, his lips pulling away from yours, making you chase him for more. Running his fingers over your hair, Minghao smirks at how eager you are. Yes, he wanted you, but it was powerful to feel your body shiver under his every time he would pull away from you.
“Please, oh my god. I can’t take it.”
You finally close your eyes, tears on the rims of your eyes as you feel your walls clench around nothing. Minghao smiles, his finger tracing your hard nipple as you arch into his touch. He knew you weren’t his, but he could pretend, even if it was just for a short time. Jun cocks his head to the side, his eyes focused on Minghao’s hand as he presses his thumb against your nipple, pulling a moan from your mouth. He knew that Minghao wanted to tease you for longer, but his heart was racing, his hands tightening into fists at how thirsty he was already feeling for you. Impatience was starting to kick back in for him.
“If you don’t fuck her, Hao... I’ll show you how it’s done. Stop teasing— put your fucking cock—”
Meeting Jun’s eyes, Minghao is the one who gives the warning look this time. He knew Jun wasn’t in the same state of mind that he had been when the three of you had gotten into bed. Lifting his hand, Jun rubs his nose hard, leaning back with a groan of annoyance, pushing the same fingers through his hair. Minghao just shakes his head as you run your fingers up his arm out of some concern, a look of curiosity in your eyes.
“He’s fine. He’ll get all that energy out once I’m done. He said he was being generous, now he can wait and watch.”
Smirking at how your eyes widen. The confidence that he was displaying even in front of someone that you had seen reduced him to something resembling an obedient puppy. It had your pussy almost weeping for him.
“You can handle this, can’t you?” Tilting his head, Minghao’s smirk pulls into a full grin as his hand pushes your knee up towards your stomach. You feel the stretch in the back of one thigh as he repeats the process with the other leg and puts your hands on the back of your knees. “‘Course you can, doll. Stay still.”
You start to question him, but any question you have leaves your head along with any thoughts when Minghao lines his cock up with you and buries himself in you in one smooth motion. Closing your eyes, you dig your nails into the back of your legs as you let out a soft, crying moan.
The stretch isn’t so much that you are in pain. You can tell he isn’t as big as Jun, but that didn’t seem to matter that much because his cock was long and he knew what he was doing. With each deep, slow thrust, Minghao manages to let the tip of his cock push against your g-spot.
Finally, you take a deep breath and the tears he had hoped to see slip from your eyes start to stream along your temples once again. Minghao groans your name at the sight. He feels his stomach tighten, his pace picking up, and the sound of skin meeting skin loudly bouncing around the room.
Licking his lips Jun tries to swallow, but his mouth is so dry he can only groan, shifting on the bed, wanting to get closer to you. He wanted to be patient, but one more sobbing moan slipped between your pretty lips as he tugged on the bed so he could lean on his arm next to you. He was so thirsty, but looking at you, he knew that you’d somehow take care of it all.
Familiar fingers tighten around your jaw, turning your head to the left as you open your eyes. Meeting Jun’s intense gaze, you whimper his name as Minghao thrusts into the hardest that he had the entire night. Your orgasm rips through your body as Jun’s lips brush over your lips. He works his kisses towards your lips with a groan as Minghao’s fingers bruise your ass with how hard he holds you.
Leaning his head back, Minghao curses into a groan, feeling you clench around him. You were so tight, it was hard to move. Now he had to work that much harder to fuck you the way he wanted to; you were driving him to the point that he was going to follow you right over that edge.
Groaning your name, Minghao watches Jun lay back, a smirk on the man’s lips after the rough kiss. The moment your eyes meet his, Minghao loses any control he once had. His movement becomes messy, each thrust deep and hard as he cums hard, wishing the condom keeping him separated from you was gone.
Trying to catch his breath, Minghao moves your legs down and around his hips as he lays over you. You gasp, feeling his hips roll towards you so that his cock is as deep as he can possibly be before he comes to a stop. You smile against Minghao’s lips, your nails pressing into the back of his biceps when he nips at your lips before slowly pulling back from you.
The absence of Minghao sends a shiver through your body. Chill bumps spread along your skin and Jun smiles, running his fingers along your collarbone, marveling at the sight as Minghao moves off the bed. You were all his again. Jun was trying to give you a moment to come down from your orgasm, but the more his eyes moved over your body, the more he felt like he was going crazy.
Sliding over the bed, Jun smirks at hearing you sigh out his name. Leaning down, he presses his lips to your stomach, his hand pushing your hip back down as you try to arch off the bed towards him.
“You just got fucked and you are still acting like a bitch in heat.”
Your cheeks burn as Jun degrades you, his eyes meeting yours from between your legs. You can’t help the chill that runs through your body at how intense he looks, his eyes darker from how dilated his pupils are and how hungry he looks. Fingers scratch over your soft skin, as Jun sits back on his knees, his hands finally resting on your hips, his eyes still locked with yours.
"Kitten, you are always so fucking pretty. Have I told you that?”
Starting to look away, you hear Jun tsk in warning so you keep your eyes on him. The bed sinks beside you as Minghao lays back, resting on his elbow, watching intently. He knew Jun had been waiting for this moment and he would be lying to himself if he hadn’t been waiting for it a bit himself. He enjoyed watching.
“It’s true. I used to watch you all the time at the bar, but this... baby, you are the prettiest when you are on your back for me.”
Your lips part at Jun’s words and his confession. You hadn’t noticed him looking at you, but you had also kept your head down. You had tried for months to keep yourself off his shit list, when perhaps you should have been enjoying his eyes moving over your body.
Seeing the realization clicking in your eyes, Jun laughs and lifts his hand, rubbing at his nose as he shakes his head, feeling it spinning. He needed to do something with all of this pent up energy and you were right here, waiting to get fucked again. He had promised to fuck you hard, and he planned on keeping that promise.
Leaning over you, Jun slides your hands up the bed, grinning down at you as he lifts his brow at your reaction. You wanted to touch him and he knew it. You had been the same way in his office, but he wasn’t ready to give you what you wanted. This was still his house and you were his to use as he saw fit.
“Hold her arms.”
You look up as Minghao’s hands take the place of Jun's, pinning your wrists to the bed. Giving a small test tug just to see if Minghao would let you go, you pout when he shakes his head at you, keeping a firm grip. Your attention is brought back to Jun when his hands pull your legs up so that your ass rests on his thighs, your knee almost at his hips.
Biting at his bottom lip, Jun moves his hand from your hip to his shaft, pushing himself down so that his tip rubs between your wet, swollen folds on the way to your waiting entrance. Warmth wraps around him as Jun rolls his hips to meet yours. At first he keeps his thrusts shallow and slow, but watching you arch off the bed, trying to roll your hips down to take more of him, does something to Jun. The corners of his lips pull up into a cocky smirk as he uses his hand still on your hip to pull you down over him like a toy.
The stretch of taking Jun reminds you just how much bigger he is than Minghao. Gasping through a moan, you try to scratch at Minghao’s hands as Jun continues to move you over his cock, harder and faster. You feel your brain start to go fuzzy, your eyes rolling back into your head as you let him use you and you just let go completely.
Whimpered groans slip between Jun’s lips as his jaw tightens almost to the point where it’s painful as he clenches his teeth, feeling his climax right on the edge of a cliff. It’s as if he is looking over at the rocks as waves crash over them, but your velvet walls are sucking him back in, keeping him warm, and pushing him to hold out longer.
“So fucking good. Baby, you’re perfect. Gonna cum for Daddy?”
Nodding, you tug at Minghao’s hands as your eyes move over Jun’s torso and his hands as they rest on your waist. You want nothing more than to grab at his skin and feel him under your fingertips but Minghao holds you tight. Sobbing into a moan, you arch your back off the bed and push down over Jun’s cock as you cum around him. Your mouth falls open and your body is completely pliable when your brain goes blank during your orgasm, just a toy for Jun to take his cum.
His eyes move over your body, your skin glistening with sweat as soft moans slip out of your mouth and into the air like the most beautiful song he has ever heard. Jun shakes his head, feeling himself starting to lose momentum as he fills you with his cum. His hands start to shake against your hips with a few final hard thrusts that send you towards Minghao. Falling over your body, Jun whispers your name against your ear, a smile on his lips when he feels you nod, letting him know you are okay.
Letting go of your hands, Minghao watches you weakly move them to Jun. He furrows his brows, following your fingers through Jun’s hair and over his shoulders as you hold the man laying on top of you. You had been gentle with him after he had fucked you, but this was different. You were tender with Jun and he was the same with you. Suddenly, Minghao was feeling like he was intruding somewhere he wasn’t supposed to be.
Swallowing hard, Jun groans, his head starting to ache as the high that he had been riding starts to crash. Rolling off of you, he sighs, lifting his hand to run it over his face as you watch him concerned. You turn on your side carefully observing him as he licks his lips and makes a face like he’s tasted something bad in the air, his eyes still closed.
“His mouth is probably dry as fuck.”
Furrowing your brows, you look up at Minghao as he leans back against the headboard. You didn’t know anything about what Jun had taken, but clearly he did. Sighing softly, Minghao slips off the bed and out of the room towards the kitchen. You turn your attention back to Jun, wondering if you need to get up and get him some water, when Minghao comes back into the room with a bottle of water, making your chest tighten. Clearly, he had done this before.
Sitting up, you reach out for the water, taking it from Minghao. Making an unsure sound, you look at Jun lying flat on the bed and Minghao chuckles, rolling his eyes.
“Let me move him into the bed and get his head on the pillows. He’s gonna pass out, but... he’s fine, alright?”
You weren’t so sure, but you just nodded, trying your best to help Minghao move the larger man up in the bed. You take charge of pulling the sheets from under him and placing them over his body as Minghao adjusts a pillow under his friend’s neck. Pouting to yourself, you open the bottle of water as you lean over Jun, putting the bottle to his lips and letting him take sips of the water. Your eyes meet Minghao’s a few times before you finally smile and let out a slow, long breath.
“Thanks. I guess I’m kinda useless when it comes to this.”
Shaking his head, Minghao moves to the dresser, taking out a pair of spare pajama pants and slipping them on as he glances back at you and Jun. He knew he could just leave, but he didn’t want to. You looked like a lost bird and Jun could be a bit unpredictable coming down. No, he’d stay, at least until he knew that you’d both be okay without him.
Sitting back on the side of the bed near you, Minghao leans down to pick up his cell phone that had fallen out of his jeans to read over a few missed texts as you fuss over Jun. At least nothing had burned down, metaphorically or physically, in the time he and Jun had been busy.
You look up at him curiously, hearing a sigh of relief before your eyes move to his phone, watching his thumbs move over it quickly. You knew there was more going on than Jun was willing to tell you, but Minghao was a bit more forthcoming. Of course, that had been before the apartment fiasco and getting his ass chewed out by Jun, but maybe if you approached it right...
“He’s been so stressed out. I guess this was good for him. Ya know, to just let go? Not worry about the bar, all the shit that’s going on there.”
Lifting his brows, Minghao scoffs, thinking your words were an understatement. Writing one more reply to Mingyu, he sighs and glances over to you as you put the lid back on the water, putting it on the nightstand, as Jun snores quietly beside the two of you.
“Mm, yeah. He doesn’t do shit like this often. He doesn’t go crazy with it either, but shit has been fucked up lately.”
Nodding, you run your fingers over Jun’s hair, pushing it back from his forehead, before sliding off the bed, feeling Minghao’s eyes following you. Gesturing towards the door, you smile and tilt your head to the side.
“I’m gonna get some clothes and something to eat. You wanna join me?”
Giving one last glance to Jun as he sleeps a bit restlessly, Minghao frowns before giving you a nod. He could hear his stomach growling and he could use some water himself after everything that had happened.
Slipping one of Jun’s shirts over your head, you feel the end of it rest just under where your shorts end. You stretch your arms as you move back into the kitchen to find Minghao sitting at the island, his head turned back towards the guest room where Jun was sleeping. From where he was sitting, with the door open, he could keep an eye on him. You feel your lips pull up into a smile before you force yourself to relax and clear your throat. You loved how close he and Jun clearly were. You had never noticed it before, but there was something about fucking them both that made it easier to see.
Looking over to you as you clear your throat, Minghao gives you a half smile, lifting a fresh bottle of water to his lips as his eyes move over you from head to toe. He knew you were wearing Jun’s clothes, but he didn’t hate it. You looked cute in them.
"So, what’s for dinner?”
Your lips pull back up in a smile as you turn towards the fridge, opening it up so you can lean against it looking at the choices. Taking out the milk, you show it to Minghao before reaching up for a box of cereal. You watch the man’s half smile turn into a full grin before he laughs and nods approvingly at your choice.
“Alright, chef.”
Cereal is in front of you and Minghao, and you join him in occasional glances towards the guest room. The restlessness that had been evident before seemed to have calmed as Jun lay on his back, one arm across his stomach, the other threatening to fall off the side of the bed. Minghao watches you for a moment, bringing his spoon to his lips to take a bite of his cereal as your brows furrow watching Jun.
“You’re whipped.”
Your cheeks burn hearing Minghao’s words, even muffled by food as he chews. Meeting his eyes, you scoff and shake your head, trying to play off how you feel, but even you know that you feel something for Jun. If you didn't, you wouldn’t let him keep you “safe” and in the dark.
“Whatever… He grew on me.”
Smirking, Minghao rests his spoon against his lips before sighing as you take a bite of your own cereal, eating it quietly. He starts to let his guard down before your next words cause him to take a deep breath and his eyes to fall back down to his bowl.
“Minghao? Tell me what’s going on. What happened today? Please?”
He knew he could tell you no. He knew he could tell you to ask Jun, but he also knew Jun wouldn’t tell you. He knew that Jun would tell you that it was safer not knowing, but Minghao was starting to wonder if that was true. You not knowing was going to make you complacent. Not knowing is what made you walk up to the idiots in the bar the way you did in the first place. Being in the dark about everything is what made you feel safe enough to walk to your car alone after saying what you did to them.
“Uh… he—fuck, Y/N. He’s gonna kick my ass, but listen, alright? I think you should know. It’s better to know what you are up against so you can avoid it.”
Your brows furrow as you lean towards Minghao, waiting for him to continue. You weren’t sure if you agreed with his logic any more than you agreed with Jun’s. They both wanted to treat you like some little lamb. Yes, you had been terrified after what had happened to you in the parking lot, but after what had happened to your apartment and what you were seeing happening to Jun, you were pissed. You needed to understand it before you could really see it. Your eyes couldn’t be closed anymore.
“I’ll deal with Jun. I do need to know. It involves me, but it’s also fucking everything up. I fucked it all up.”
Reaching out to take your wrist into his hand, Minghao is quick to shake his head. His eyes fall to where his thumb glides over your skin at your pulse point. He knew he shouldn’t be touching you while Jun was asleep, but after what had just happened in bed with you, he felt maybe he could get by with just a little.
“You didn’t, doll. It wasn’t your—shit… I won’t lie. You shouldn’t have gone up to those fuckers without knowing who and what they could do, but that doesn’t make this your fault.” Minghao sighs into his words as you turn your hand in his, letting him have better access to your skin. “Jun met with their boss today. That’s the man who wants your head on a stick. He blames you for three of his idiots not walking around today.”
You try to picture Jun meeting with someone who could be in charge of the men who had attacked you and it makes you feel sick to your stomach. Anyone who could be worse than those men... you didn’t want someone around Jun, you didn’t want him around Minghao, and you didn’t want him around the bar. The thought passes through your head, but then you remember that Jun is just as frightening.
"I—well, he’s not wrong, but why did Jun—”
“Fuck that, Y/N!” Looking over to where Jun turns in bed when he raises his voice, Minghao furrows his brows and lowers his voice before continuing. “No, they would have gotten into some shit and ended up the same way on their own with or without what happened that night. It was just a matter of time.”
Sighing, you just nod, closing your fingers around Minghao’s. You knew he was probably right, but it still didn’t change how you felt. It was getting easier for you to understand that people died around Jun and Minghao. You understood that they were probably going to die around you if you stayed in this world. You just needed to understand why. Tilting your head, you lift your other hand, gesturing for Minghao to continue getting a nod.
“Anyway, he met with him. His name is Park Bonhwa. Don’t look him up; don’t look for him. I’ll know if you do.”
As if reading your mind, the warning makes you sit up as Minghao’s eyes meet yours. You can only press your lips together as his eyes search yours, waiting for you to nod. Only when he is satisfied that you understand does he look back towards Jun and continue with his story.
“You know he took Wonwoo, the lawyer. I know Mingyu was there; that’s how I know most of this. I just know it went bad. Wonwoo got hurt, but he’s alright. He’s alive…”
Your hand tightens around Minghao’s and he sighs, knowing that piece of information would make you upset. You didn’t even know Wonwoo, but you were a caring person. That was why he wanted you to avoid all this, and that was why Jun shut your eyes.
“Jun beat the shit out of Bonhwa and Mingyu threw his ass out. They warned him to leave you alone and I think he got the message.”
Looking in the direction of Jun, you remember how red and swollen his knuckles were when he came home from the bar. You remember the dried blood and cracked skin and your stomach tightens. While you feel some fear for Jun, you also feel a sense of pride knowing that he was not only doing it for you but also defending Wonwoo.
“And Wonwoo? Is he okay?”
Smiling to one side, Minghao shakes his head when your first question isn’t about Park Bonhwa or about how they know he will stay away, but instead about your concern for Wonwoo’s health. Your kind heart shows through the tough exterior you were trying to build.
“He’s alright. Mingyu took him to Jun’s doctor. Got him patched up, and I’m pretty sure he’s on a retreat so he can heal.”
Lifting your brows, you try to imagine what Minghao means by his last words. You knew it had something to do with Jun and that the lawyer was probably somewhere very nice and being taken care of very well. The idea of that makes you feel much better about the situation.
“That’s good. I’m glad he’s being taken care of. I’d like to see him again once he’s feeling better.”
Sliding his fingers along your palm, Minghao chuckles under his breath as he leans back in the bar stool chair before nodding.
“I’m sure he’ll be around the bar in a couple months.”
Meeting his eyes, you smile, having had so many of your questions answered. You still feel a weight on your chest that Jun wasn’t the one to tell you, but the strength of knowing lets you breathe. Leaning forward, you feel Minghao freeze when your lips brush over his. At first, he doesn’t kiss you back until you meet his eyes at such a close distance and he knows you won’t take no for an answer.
Your lips press against Minghao’s and you take in a deep breath through your nose when his fingers slide back over your hand to wrap around your wrist. The kiss is tender; it takes your breath away, but it is brief. When Minghao pulls away, you almost pout, but upon meeting his eyes, you know that he feels the same way.
“Thank you for telling me everything, Minghao.”
Minghao takes a deep breath to calm his nerves as he nods. He didn’t regret telling you, but he was already mentally preparing himself for the lashing he was bound to receive the following day.
Jun’s head was busting, but turning to his side, he couldn’t help smiling. You were sleeping next to him. He was still in the guest room, and that meant you had chosen to sleep beside him. You could have gone to the bedroom the two of you had been sharing since he had brought you to his penthouse, but you had laid down beside him instead.
You were beautiful. He had told you that many times, but today more so. The light from the window on this side of the building was able to peek through the blinds and it was playing against your skin. Jun furrowed his brows, letting his eyes follow the rays of light as they danced where he wanted to run his fingers.
While he didn’t regret the night before, he knew that it would be hard to share you again. It would be a rare thing to let anyone else—Minghao included—be that close to you. Taking a deep breath, Jun scoots closer to you, lifting his hand to very carefully brush his index finger along your cheek. He smiles again, watching how your face scrunches up at the feeling. He wasn’t really trying to wake you up, but that desire to touch you was too much. He knew what he was feeling, but he wasn’t ready to admit it to himself. He had never felt like this about anyone else before.
You whine in your sleep, feeling yourself starting to wake up as Jun’s fingers move over your hair. It was a nice way to wake up. He wasn’t rushing you. You were warm and you felt safe. Slowly, your eyes open, and you can’t help but smile when the first thing you see is Jun’s face so close to yours. It wasn’t a horrible way to start your day, and it was becoming something you looked forward to.
“Morning.”
Humming in response, Jun traces the shape of your ear as he swallows hard, feeling how dry his mouth was. He couldn’t stay with you much longer like this, no matter if he wanted to or not. He needed something to drink and his stomach was growling to the point that your eyes were glancing down at the bed. Watching your smile turn into a laugh at the sound, Jun shakes his head, leaning forward to press his lips against your forehead before sitting up with a groan. He was sore. His hands felt stiff. His knuckles almost needed to be forced to move as bruises had formed over the night.
Sitting up with Jun, you glance down at his hands before your pretty smile falls into a frown. Reaching for the hand closest to you, you take a breath, running your thumb over the cracked skin and hearing Jun wince. The adrenaline from the night before had made it easy for him to ignore the pain, but now it was evident—even if he wanted to pretend like he didn’t feel it.
“I don’t blame you for doing it, but you need to clean your hands better. I know he deserved to have his ass kicked.”
Jun’s brows furrow slowly as he lifts his head in confusion. Had he told you what happened while he was high? No, he hadn’t been that high. He would remember. Looking over at you, Jun pulls his hand from you, rubbing his knuckles hard as you sigh at him, unhappy that he is treating his hands with so little care.
“Who deserved it? I’m fine, Y/N. I don’t know what the fuck you are talking about.”
Watching Jun slide out of bed, you furrow your brows knowing exactly what he was doing. He was trying to hide things from you again. You thought if you caught him off guard with what you knew he would just tell you, not needing to be prompted to do it, but instead he was just lying.
Following behind him, you cross your arms as Jun opens the fridge harder than necessary to take out a bottle of water. Tossing the lid on to the kitchen island, he meets your eyes as he quickly drains the bottle and wipes his lips with the back of his hand. He could see you were upset with him, but he wasn’t pleased with you. He was trying to figure out how you could know anything, but the more he thought about it, only one person came to mind, Minghao.
“I’m not doing this.”
Shaking his head, Jun watches you scoff, your eyes rolling as he turns towards the bedroom. Your eyes move over his bare body, noticing scars that you had either ignored before or hadn’t taken the time to really look at. Now your eyes were open and you were seeing everything. He had been through a lot more than you could ever really understand, but you wanted to.
Jun tugs open his dresser, pulling out a pair of sweatpants, not looking at you as you follow him into the room. He had a feeling you weren’t going to give up, but that still didn’t mean he was going to tell you anything. The only thing on Jun’s mind was how badly he wanted to kick Minghao’s ass.
Standing behind Jun, you watch him pull the pants up to his hips before you reach out to run your fingers over his hip, your index finger tracing a long scar. You find yourself wondering if the scar was from something as simple as an accident or if someone else had given it to him. The line was jagged and the more your imagination got away from you, you could almost picture it being made by a knife. A chill runs through your body, and your hand shakes as Jun’s hand rests over yours.
“I want you to tell me things, Jun. I need to know what’s going on. I still work at the bar. I can’t sit in this fucking penthouse for the rest of my life.”
Fingers tighten around yours as Jun scoffs. You were infuriating. Shaking his head, Jun turns to face you, dropping your hand as he walks towards you, watching you take a step back.
“And why the fuck not? Do you seriously still not get it? If you are so goddamn smart and you think you already know so much because your buddy Minghao has given you all the details—”
Jun stops for a moment when he sees your brows furrow, tears starting to coat your eyes. He knew he was upsetting you, but maybe that’s what it was going to take. Leaning down to take both your wrists to keep you in front of him, Jun meets your eyes.
“You don’t know shit. He barely knows what the fuck he’s talking about, Y/N. You are safe here! In these walls. I don’t want you at the bar!”
Tugging your arms in Jun’s grasp, you feel your anger rising. The tears that had started to collect in your eyes spill over onto your cheeks from frustration when he keeps a firm grip not letting you get your way.
“I–Jun! Let me go. What do you mean, you don’t want me there? I work there! You hired me to work there. I have to understand what—”
“Fine! You’re fired!”
You stop struggling and stand in front of Jun in shock when he cuts you off. You knew that he didn’t want to explain things to you and that he wanted to protect you but you never thought he would go as far as to fire you. You were good at your job. You loved working with the people at the bar. You weren’t close with your family so over time they had become like your family, and now Jun was keeping you from them.
Jun watches anger turn to pain on your face as your tears flow more freely down your face. His heart was aching, but he needed to make you understand his way. Yes, Park Bonhwa had hopefully gotten his message, but he also knew that every single one of his men had your face in their hands. It terrified him because he lov— no, he couldn’t even think about it.
“What did you just say to me?”
Swallowing hard, Jun loosens his grip on you, trying to get his own footing as you make him repeat himself. It was harder the second time.
“I–I said, you’re fired, Y/N.”
Jerking your arms from Jun’s grasp, you pull from him as he watches, running his fingers through his hair as you start to move through the bedroom, picking up bits and pieces of your clothing. His heart was pounding in his chest; this hadn’t been what he wanted. He didn’t want you at the bar, but that didn’t mean he didn’t want or need you here.
“Wait… baby. What—no. What are you doing?”
Jun’s hand pulls at your wrist as you push your things into the bag that Minghao had brought for you the first night you had been brought to the penthouse. Pulling away from him again, you hear Jun’s breath get caught in his throat—almost the sound of a choked sob—but you don’t look at him. You were too busy blinking away your own tears and making up your mind.
“I’m packing, Mr. Wen. What does it look like?”
Hearing you call him Mr. Wen cuts like a knife. Groaning under his breath, Jun shakes his head and reaches for your bag this time, only for you to meet his eyes and for that look to stop him in his tracks. You looked furious and hurt.
“If I’m no longer your employee, you have no fucking reason to make me stay. I can walk out the door. I don’t have any ties to you.”
That was worse than his name. You were twisting the knife. Jun wasn’t sure if you knew how he felt about you, but those words were breaking him. Pulling your bag over your shoulder, you try to push past Jun, tears dripping from your cheeks as he pulls you back against his chest, wrapping his arm around your chest.
“You don’t have anywhere to go. Don’t do this, please? I—I’m sorry. I need…”
Jun’s voice trails off and you feel his fingers tremble against your shoulder. You knew you could probably pull his arm down and away from you, but leaning back against his chest, you could feel his body shake. You had never seen or heard Jun cry. There was no way he was crying over you.
“I can figure out somewhere to go.” Trying to look back at him, you see Jun close his eyes, turning his face away from you as if he’s hiding something. “What do you need? Finish the sentence.”
Groaning, Jun lets you go, feeling you turn your body towards him. He was trying to keep his emotions in check, but his cheeks were wet. You can’t stop yourself from frowning, you have to fight yourself to keep your hands at your sides as the urge to wipe the tears from his cheeks becomes strong. You were shocked to see him crying; it was breaking your heart, but it wasn’t going to change your mind, not if Jun couldn’t finish what he had started to say.
“I–I need you. I need you to stay here.”
The first part of Jun’s explanation makes your head feel light, almost as if you are going to faint. You take a breath to steady yourself. You had never been needed by anyone, especially not by someone like Wen Junhui, but hearing him admit it made you feel weak in the knees. The second part made your brows furrow, that seemed like what he had been saying over and over again.
“I can’t just live inside this penthouse for the rest of my life and not be able to go—”
“No, no, I know. I’m sorry. I’m sorry, baby. Please, let me explain.”
Jun’s eyes open, and his hands move to cautiously hold your arms as if he’s afraid you’ll walk away from him. This time he doesn’t force you to stand in front of him, but he guides you to stay watching and nod so he can continue.
“I’m so fucking scared someone will hurt you and I won’t be there to stop it. I thought—I was hoping that by keeping you inside the house, you’d be safe and happy.”
Your head tilts, your eyes narrow, and Jun lets out a whining groan, knowing that he is wrong.
“I know; I see it now. You aren’t happy—not happy like I wanted. I just get so fucking obsessed with wanting to keep you safe because—well, because…”
Lifting your brow, you watch Jun struggle with his words. He had always been so well spoken at the bar, even when he was yelling at someone. You had never seen him so tongue tied and unable to get his words to connect from his brain to his mouth. Shifting in his hands, you lift your hand to finally wipe at one of his cheeks with your thumb, and Jun almost melts at your touch. Leaning into your hand, he closes his eyes and lets out a soft, content sound, happy to feel your hand on his skin. He knows what he wants to say and what he needs to say, but it’s terrifying.
“Just say it, Jun. This is what is driving me crazy. I can’t live my life around you if you don’t tell me what’s going on. I can’t read your mind. I can’t understand things if I’m not told.”
Nodding, Jun’s hand gently wraps around your wrist so he can turn your hand in his leaning to press his lips to the heel of your hand. This was going to change everything. You were changing everything. Jun’s entire worldview was on its head because of some innocent girl that he thought was cute and he decided to hire her. He just had to go and fall in love with you.
“I’ll do better. I promise. Give me a chance. Don’t leave me. You can come back to the bar. I need you.”
There was still so much left unsaid, but you were getting the feeling that they were words that he needed time to process and to say. The words that he was able to say were enough to make your shoulders relax and for you to nod. You just wanted to compromise with him. You weren’t trying to rebuild his entire world; you were just trying to be part of it.
Moving his hands to either side of your face, Jun furrows his brows, watching your expression. Your eyes stay locked on his and Jun finally lets out a breath, not seeing any sign that you were going to pull away from him again. Leaning forward, he pushes his lips against yours, gently letting the kiss hopefully say everything he can’t seem to get out.
The kiss is different. Jun doesn’t rush. Instead, his thumbs brush against your cheeks as his tongue glides along yours slowly. You find yourself having to wrap your fingers around his wrists to keep yourself steady as your head once again feels woozy. When you sway in his arms, Jun furrows his brows, only then pulling back to look at you to see your eyes still closed and your lips barely parted, waiting for another kiss. Smiling, he brushes his lips back against yours before pulling your bag from your shoulder and letting it fall to the floor as he walks you backward towards the bed.
The back of your legs hit the bed before you feel Jun lay you back on the bed. His hand behind your head doesn’t let you fall; he rests one knee against the mattress as he lowers you down, making sure you never slip from his hold. Whispering his name, you start to slide your hands along Jun’s chest as he hovers above you, but remembering how every time you had been with him, he hadn’t let you touch him, you pause.
Jun furrows his brows, seeing the uncertainty in your eyes and the way your voice wavers. There was something intimate about having someone touch you. That had been why he hadn’t wanted your hands on him often. He liked you too much. He had been falling in love with you too quickly and it scared the shit out of him. If he kept your hands off his skin as much as possible as he fucked you into a mattress or on top of his desk, then he couldn’t feel as connected to you.
Looking at you now, as you lay under him, your lips parted as you took deep breaths. All Jun wants is your hands on him. Reaching for your hand, Jun lifts it and puts your palm against his chest, near his heart. You feel it beating hard and fast in his chest, almost faster than yours. Your eyes fall to where your fingers rest over Jun’s skin as you carefully move your hand before bringing your other hand up to run it along his side. You could really see each scar now; you could trace them with your fingers, but you could also count each mole and freckle. You were able to appreciate how beautiful Jun was without being told not to touch him or being rushed to do something else.
Licking his lips, Jun feels chill bumps spread along his skin under your touch. You were being gentle, almost as if you were afraid he was going to make you stop. That wouldn’t happen again. He was yours just as much as he claims you as his own now. He should tell you that, Jun thinks to himself as his thumb glides under the borrowed shirt that had ridden up on your torso. Shaking his head to himself, he just smiles instead and meets your eyes before pressing his lips to yours once again, his hips rutting against yours, begging for relief.
You had fallen for this man. You were breathless from his kiss and the way his mouth felt on your skin. You hadn’t let yourself admit it, not even when Minghao teased you, but as Jun’s kisses trailed along your jaw to your neck, you knew it was true. You couldn’t see yourself anywhere else but with him now.
“Wanna do this forever.”
Jun’s words make you clench around nothing; your thighs tighten around his hips. Groaning next to your ear at your reaction, Jun scratches his fingers up under your shirt, pushing it up your chest. If this were any other day, he would have already had you naked and split you open with his cock, but not this time. Jun didn’t make love, but he did this time. He would make love to you.
“Sound so pretty. Sound like an angel, kitten.”
Whimpering as Jun speaks, you lean your head back, scratching your nails lightly over his shoulders and feeling his fingers massage at your breasts. This was better than any other time that he had fucked you. Yes, all the other times had felt great, but you were already so wet that you were uncomfortable and Jun had barely touched you.
“Don’t tease. Please, not today, Junnie.”
The name slips out of your mouth before you even think about it. Pressing your lips together, you wait for Jun to get upset or have at least a negative reaction, but instead he leans back to look down at you, a smile on his lips. Leaning down, Jun pecks at your lips as his brows furrow curiously.
“Call me that again.”
Licking your lips, you watch Jun lean back, his hands pulling the shirt up and over your head so he can toss it behind him.
“Junnie…”
Chuckling under his breath, Jun shakes his head at how much he enjoys the sweet name on your lips. He hated nicknames and most pet names. They were degrading to someone of his standing, but this one coming out of your mouth made his chest feel light.
You sigh happily when Jun’s lips brush over the top of your breast, his kisses moving slowly over your skin until he reaches your nipple. Lacing your fingers through his hair, your grip gets tighter when Jun’s tongue laps at your nipple, causing it to harden. So much of your time with Jun has been centered on him. Anything he had done at the end of the day had been to prepare you to take him, but now he was taking his time, almost worshiping you as he worked his way from one breast to the other.
“Ah… feels good.”
Grazing his teeth over your pebbled nipple, Jun smiles when you arch your chest towards his mouth. He hadn’t been lying when he said you sounded like an angel. Every moan and whimper out of your mouth was driving him crazy. He could feel himself leaking against the front of his sweatpants as he worked his kisses lower, over your stomach, and down to where your panties sat low on your hips.
Glancing up at you, Jun watches you lift your hand to brush your fingers at your lips, trying to be quieter, only to fail to feel his warm breath fan across your panties. He didn’t want you to be quiet and he had a feeling you wouldn’t be able to once he got started.
Using his index finger, Jun tugs your panties to the side, marveling at how wet your folds are. Carefully, he separates your lips using his thumb, letting out a soft groan as his eyes move from your clit down to your clenching hole. He knew how good it felt to be inside of you, and he wanted that more than anything, but he could be patient. Today, for you, he could do just about anything.
When Jun’s tongue glides between your folds, you almost start to cry. Tears of pleasure sit on the rims of your eyes as you scratch the bedding under your hands. The warmth of his mouth, mixed with the fact that he clearly knows what he is doing, is enough to make you see stars.
Stiffening his tongue, Jun wraps one arm under your leg, pulling you closer to his mouth as he furrows his brows to your taste. Pushing his tongue into you, he can’t help the deep groan that escapes his mouth and causes his mouth to almost vibrate against your pussy. Muttering fuck, against your folds, Jun shakes his head as he leans back to spit on your already soaking folds. Watching his spit drip down your skin, he smirks and is right back to what he was doing, his lips and tongue moving over your clit, making your thighs shake.
When you cum, you don’t have time to warn Jun. You only have enough time to push your fingers into his hair and hold him tighter between your legs as you cry out in pleasure. Letting go of his head, you start to apologize when you feel Jun laugh, his lips pressing against your thigh. Shaking his head, he groans and turns his attention back to your pussy. Jun can feel your thighs shaking around his head as he laps at the cum dripping from you but he only stops when you whine and tell him it’s too much.
"Sorry, baby, you taste so good. I should have done that earlier.”
Covering your face, you feel your cheeks burning under his attention. Fingers work your soaked panties down your legs before Jun kicks his sweatpants off and to the side. Gently, he moves your hand from your face as he settles back between your legs, resting on top of you. He knew that you were shy, but, in his opinion, you had nothing to be shy about.
Taking your hand in his, Jun presses his lips to the tips of your fingers before leaning to capture your lips with his own. You sigh into the kiss, only for the sigh to turn into a moan when you feel Jun push the head of his cock against your pussy. You are so wet that he slips in with much more ease than any time before, but the stretch still makes you tense up at first.
Resting his forehead against yours, Jun groans your name quietly as he thrusts into you with slow and steady movements. You had gotten used to him being rough and quick, but now you were feeling every inch of him as he pressed his hips flush with yours with every thrust. Mouth falling open with a breathless moan, you close your eyes tightly, and Jun can only nod in agreement as you clench around him tightly.
“Fuck, so perfect. Want you to be mine, kitten. I just—” Groaning, Jun buries his head against your neck, kissing up to your ear before he finally speaks again and says what he had been so afraid to say. “I just love you so fucking much.”
The words both shock you and send you over the edge. Clinging to Jun, you gasp his name in a loud moan as he kisses your neck, letting you roll your hips over him to ride out your orgasm. Throwing your head back, your brows furrowed tightly, you watch as Jun follows your same patch a few moments later. Pushing back on his hand so that he isn’t laying on top of you, Jun holds your hip tightly with his free hand as he thrusts into you once more hard, filling you full of his cum.
Moments pass silently, just quickened breath as you and Jun come down from your climax. You brush your fingers over his forehead, pushing his hair back from where it sticks to his damp skin as he licks his lips. Finally meeting your eyes, Jun almost looks shy, knowing you heard what he said. It wasn’t as if he had said it quietly and been in your ear. Seeming to know what the look is for, you smile and trail your fingers along the side of his face, stopping to brush your thumb over his lips, feeling him kiss the pad of your finger.
“It scares me, but I love you too.”
Jun furrows his brows at your wording. He could understand it. His world was a lot. You had already been hurt and seen or heard about others being hurt. It wouldn’t surprise him if you told him you never wanted to see him again after he kept you locked in his penthouse like some princess he wanted to keep away from the world. Instead, you were saying it back to him and his heart was racing so hard that he was afraid it might explode.
“I—yeah? I mean, I’m scared shitless. So fucking scared. I’ve never said that to anyone before. I don’t wanna fuc—”
Sensing Jun was rambling, you laugh and lean up on your elbows a few inches to press your lips to his to stop him before he really gets started. Jun’s lips pull up at the sides in a smile before he really lets himself give into the kiss. Turning on to the side, Jun pulls you with him, feeling his softening cock slip from you, knowing it would cause a mess, but he couldn’t find a reason to care as long as you were in his arms and his lips were on yours.
After a few moments, you are the first to wrinkle your nose, and the sticky feeling becomes unbearable. Pulling back from the kiss, you watch Jun pout and lean his head to the side like a puppy being disciplined. Shaking your head, you smile, and your cheeks once again heat up at how sweet he was acting around you after all of the tough guy acts you had seen over the months of knowing him.
“Um, we—well I need a shower.”
Gesturing down at your body, Jun follows your fingers with his eyes before pursing his lips. He knew you were right, but that didn’t make it any less bothersome. If you needed a shower, he was coming with you. When you gasp next to his ear, feeling Jun’s hands lifting you from the bed to carry you towards the bathroom, he just grins and meets your eyes.
“What? I thought you needed a shower. I need one too.”
Sighing, you kick your legs a bit as if that should answer your question, but Jun leans to nip at your jaw before sitting you on the counter. Looking around the bathroom as Jun turns on the shower, you find yourself remembering the first night you had been in the penthouse and how this was mildly similar to it. You felt much better, but Jun was still taking care of you. He was starting your shower and keeping a watchful eye on you.
“Thank you, Jun.”
Humming out a confused sound, Jun looks at you as he turns back from the shower, testing the water on his fingers. The look on your face makes his smile drop a bit before he moves back towards you, stepping between your thighs. He could see there was something on your mind.
“For what? What’s wrong?”
Looking around, you shake your head and enjoy the feeling of his hands running along your arms.
“For protecting me, bringing me here, and now for trusting me that I can handle it.”
Jun sighs and leans his head towards you so his forehead can rest against yours. It was a terrifying thought, letting you into his world completely, but he knew you weren’t going to give up. He would just keep you safer by his side. Teach you how to protect yourself until he was sure you could do it.
