Even though he’s seen you naked countless of times, Jun seems in awe every time he helps you lift your shirt, ease down your pants - hell the guy seems absolutely devoted if he helps you out of your shoes at the end of the night.
You try to act annoyed, a defense, a wall he has yet to scale. He sees right through your tricks though, so he rarely coos at your shyness. Whether out of the goodness of his heart or because he wears a matching blush when he catches you admiring him all the same as he does, you don’t know.
Jun always insists, ever since the beginning of your relationship, that he prefers to help you dress. It’s more intimate, he says, there’s a different feeling to it, almost more vulnerable. You think about it again while his hands skim your bare sides and his lips place a barely there kiss to your shoulder. His arms wrap around your middle, pulling your back to his equally naked chest.
“The water will get cold,” you whisper with a smile even as the steam rises from the surface.
“I don’t want to let you go,” he murmurs. Like he won’t have you in his lap as soon as you both get inside the tub. You hum.
“You shouldn’t have undressed me then,” you tease, “We have to get in now.”
He shakes his head stubbornly, his forehead falling to rest against your shoulder. You’d think you’re leaving for weeks - or he is. Yet it’s just a couple of seconds before you’re reunited in the hot bath that’s supposed to help you both relax. So far it only seems more stressful.
“Come on, Junnie,” you croon, “It’s gonna be more comfortable. And I won’t be going anywhere once we get in.”
Instead, his lips meet your skin again. If possible, the touch is even lighter than last time. It sends shivers down your spine and raises goosebumps all over your body. He notices, finally pulling away enough to rub his hands up and down your arms.
“Go on, you’re cold,” he frowns. You don’t correct him.
He follows right behind you, settling against the back of the tub and as you predicted, pulls you sideways into his lap. You initiate this time, capturing his lips with yours. He sighs into the kiss, resting his head against your shoulder again when you part.
He remains silent. He holds you close without a single movement; a statue of lovers in each other’s arms, tested by time and water lapping at their chests. Even his breath is hard to notice as it fans your skin.
You lean your head against his. You may not know what’s gotten into him, yet it’s enough that you feel he needs your proximity, your touch, your presence next to him. You close your eyes. This is enough for you too. You slowly melt into him, let the water swallow you and join you together in its warmth.
His lips press into your skin again. He murmurs something you can’t hear, but your heart seems to understand and rejoices at it nonetheless.
helloo, i’m your biggest jun fic enthusiast (same anon who requested ‘back home’ 💗) i’m always in love with your fics, i genuinely adore how raw and realistic your writing is? there’s just something that makes me come back to them multiple times a week jsjsjk
i saw the touch prompts and i miss my man while he’s busy being a big movie star so i thought it’d be lovely to see junhui + 6 (two fingers pressed against a pulse point) if it’s possible. absolutely no pressure at all, only if you want to do it 💗
either way, keep being an amazing person you have such an amazing way with your writing, i’m your biggest fan 🫶🏻
omg you're so sweet!! idk about raw and realistic but thank you ily, you made my day week month rest of the year :((
jun (svt) + two fingers pressed against a pulse point | comfort
❧ prompt list - rqs open!
You don’t dare to speak. Instead your eyes remain focused on your index and middle finger pressed against Jun’s wrist. You know what he’d say. You’re not a bother. I don’t mind. Breathe.
All of them deal breakers; the last one an impossible challenge.
It’s hard. But you’re trying. His chin is hooked over your shoulder, like a guard dog trying to protect you but there’s no danger that he can chase away. So you focus on the press of his chest against your arm and the way the touch disappears when he exhales. It’s a bad guideline, still better than nothing though.
His heartbeat pulses underneath your fingertips. Strong, steady. Real, just there. He doesn’t move his hand away. Staying still, Jun starts humming softly. His other hand rests on your back, steading you, there if you ask for comfort, there to catch you if you sway and threaten to fall.
How could he say you’re not a bother? An inconvenience?
Yet he remains by your side, just like he promised he would. He’s missing out. Even if it seems that he doesn’t realize. From the corner of your eye, you see him looking at only you. Not an ounce of attention at the breathtaking sights around you. The sights he so longed to see.
The warmth in his gaze pulls you in. You let him hold you. Jun guides you into his arms, embraces you tightly like his life depends on it. And yet he places your hand over his pulse point like he knows what you need to stay anchored.
He keeps humming without a break, without any change to the soothing, quiet melody. It guides you to normalcy, his heartbeat illuminating the way out of the dark. When you squirm in his hold, he kisses the top of your head.
“I’m sorry,” you whisper, as you always do, “I just-”
“It’s okay. It made me breathless too,” he laughs. You give him a fond smile, squeezing his hand.
It is beautiful here. You can see why Jun wanted to come here for so long.
So you have no idea why his eyes don’t sparkle as much as when he’s looking at you. Why is it you that he gazes at like you’re everything he’s ever wished for.
I might be too late with this, but lemme try: what about Jun with some kind of airy/watery superpower. Maybe ive just been watching spell a lot on repeat and that is slightly more god/fantasy than super power but it is stuck in replay in my head. It was THE moment
Also, have a good flight!!🩵
warnings: none. tags: fantasy au; lowk girl who fell beneath the sea coded. wc: 1,328
[soul spell] Even for the other gods, it was not easy to find Wen Junhui of the Water. Harder still was finding him when he was wading the waters of the future, when the hold of his visions was stronger than tsunamis, deeper than where blue becomes black.
And yet.
Before him kneels you, a mere human, not so much as a single bead of sweat on your brow despite your soul going through and doing the impossible-- pulling Junhui himself straight from the very essence of his godhood. He almost tumbled onto the white tiled floor of the seaside temple when you summoned him, but it wasn't like Junhui to embarrass himself. Especially in front of humans. The floor happened to be wet from the nearby waves and sea mist, and the water helped steady him, even if, to you, it looked as though the water simply welcomed him with an elegant, godly flourish.
He glances you over once more. His initial assessment must have been wrong -- you could not have summoned him. It took more than a simple murmur of prayer to summon one of the higher gods.
You'd need an offering, preferably one the god would want, and gods tended to keep their urges held close to the chest. It would not do if the humans knew what best to bribe a god with.
The only offering on the temple's small table is a plump, ripe persimmon.
You'd need to spend your energy, too. Summoning a high god took a great deal from the soul, as it tied -- however momentarily -- a human's soul to one from a distant, eternal plane beyond their small world's understanding. The tie was what pulled the gods from their planes, and it was as exhausting as hauling a ship's anchor by hand.
You look perfectly fine, as if Junhui's soul was just a bubble in the ocean, already floating to the surface when it was tied to yours.
But on that note, the most basic need for summoning a god is a soul.
And you don't have one.
Junhui allows his eyes to wander the open air temple. Surely his summoner must have collapsed somewhere, and you are only in front of Junhui because you are a strange, soulless opportunist.
"It's just me," you say, and Junhui's gaze snaps back at the indignant lilt of your voice. Your jaw clenches at the stern furrow of his brow. "Just me, oh God of the Water."
Though you've shifted to addressing him formally, there's still something to you that makes Junhui cross his arms. "And you are?"
Your expression falters. "You don't know?"
"I don't make it my business to know about every little land creature." Though you are starting to poke at his curiosity. A sigh escapes you when he asks again, "Who are you?"
"No one, as far as I've always thought." You stand to your feet, ignoring the way Junhui clicks his teeth at the action. "No one to a high god, at least."
He nods. "That's certain. How did you summon me?"
Shrugging, you gesture vaguely to the offerings table, where a rectangular dish of seawater sits in front of that meagre persimmon. Your left hand is still wet from where you must have had it dipped in the water. "I searched for you, and I found you."
"That's not possible."
You frown. "Well, you're here, aren't you?"
He can't deny that, but he can't wrap his head around it, either. Searching the water was what he did to comb through the future, it was how the other gods would try to find him when they need to gather for council, to only some success. Whoever taught you this method of finding him is privy to ancient, sacred knowledge. Even then, finding him in the water is one thing. Pulling him by the soul to stand in front of you is another thing entirely.
"Oh God of the Water," you draw Junhui's attention back somehow. Despite your lack of soul, there is a certain... tug to you. "I've summoned you because I am cursed."
"Your missing soul."
"So you do know." You cross your arms in a mirror of him, and the sight is almost amusing. "I've been unable to feel the warmer range of emotions for some time now. I tried to live with it, but now I'm engaged."
Tug.
Junhui's soul seems to grumble in his chest. Uncomfortable, he rubs over the area and speaks so you won't notice anything amiss. "Unable to feel, and yet you're to be married?"
You shrug again. Absent of warm feelings, indeed. "I've hardly met the man. It's all been arranged by our families."
"If it's an arrangement, then I see no need for the... warmer range of emotions, as you put it. Why would you need a soul for that?"
Brows furrowing, you seem to mull over your response. After a moment, you look up and say, "I want it. I want to love."
Tug.
It must be the chill of the drafty seaside temple. Junhui hasn't had a cold since, well, forever, but there must be something in the air. He clears his throat. This is not how Wen Junhui of the Water should be seen by any human, much less the unfeeling one in front of him.
"So I've summoned you here to help me. I need you to break the curse."
There it is. Junhui scoffs, ease flooding back through his veins because yes, you are just another demanding, shortsighted human. "And what gave you the idea that I would do that for you?"
"I summoned you, and you're here."
"Hah." It's sound logic, he realizes, but he can't let this inanity continue. He takes a step forward, where you straighten your shoulders at his approach. "I don't know what brought me here, human, and I certainly don't know who told you I could find your soul--" He pokes his finger into your sternum. You don't flinch. "--but know this." Stepping back, he absently waves his hand, making the water on the floor gather in a rising ring around his feet. "Only gods can cast spells of the soul, and only the god who uttered the spell can make it undone. Figure out which god took your soul, bother them at their temple instead, and pray they are as patient with you as I was."
With a flick of his wrist, the glistening water whirls around him, pulling him through the floor and back to the cool, bright embrace of his waters...
...just as his soul nearly tugs out of his chest, and you yell out, "Wait!"
You tumble through the waters with him, and in his wide-eyed panic, he pulls you close by your forearms. The cold must shock you; your eyes are screwed shut, so you can't see what he sees.
A shimmering silver string floats in the waters that surround you and Junhui, swirling about your bodies like a parade of fish. It stems from his chest, and although unseen, he feels the end of it wrapped around his soul several times over. Frozen, he can only stare at the way your hand hosts the other end of brilliant silver, the string wrapped in a dainty little bow around your pinky finger.
After a world-upending half of a minute, you seem to realize that in Junhui's waters, you can breathe just as well as you can on earth. Your eyes open warily, but as soon as you see Junhui's shocked face, you become deadly serious. Both of your hands move to his shoulders, clamping on as if he could've escaped before you got your hold on him.
"I know who took my soul, and I know who has to give it back."
He can only open and close his mouth like a fish out of water. His hands drift down to your elbows, and then, beyond his control, to your waist.
"You don't remember me," you continue, hands so, so wonderfully warm, "and I don't remember much of anything, but my curse is yours, Wen Junhui of the Water."
He looks into your eyes then, seeing nothing of your future at all.
Summary: You move into a new apartment only to discover it’s haunted—by Jun, a gorgeous, shamelessly perverted ghost who’s been watching you from the start. One night he makes himself known, and once you give in, he’s determined to touch, tease, and fuck you until you can’t forget that you’re his.
A/n: First work for my Kinktober event! I know it’s not perfect, but I tried to make it as presentable as possible. Yay!
A/n 2: I know I usually do gradient text for the headings, but my laptop’s down at the moment, so you’ll have to bear with me, guys
You were not supposed to feel overwhelmed at home.
But ever since the day you had moved into the old apartment building, that's how it was.
The groaning floorboards when it was just you. Your underwear vanishing in the hamper. That little depression in the mattress at night as if an additional person was slumbering next to you.
First, you blamed fatigue. Stress. Anything but the truth.
But tonight? There was no debate.
The steam of the shower remained about you, towel draped loosely over your damp skin, when the warm touch rubbed along the hip—fingers, real and intentional. You froze.
Then you heard it. A low hum, smooth and satisfied.
"Mmm… softer than I had thought."
Your heart was racing in your ears as you turned. Only fog, mirror smeared with condensation.
But there was something. An outline standing by the wall. Male. Tall. Smiling.
As the steam thinned he took a step forward, and your lungs forgot how they worked.
He was handsome in an almost cruel way. Soft black hair, sharp cheekbones, pursed lips set in the smuggest grin you ever saw. He was long-limbed and lean, dressed in an open-throated white shirt that glimmered subtly, as if it wasn't quite of this world.
And his eyes—in hungry, lazy darkness—pulled the length of your towel-wrapped body down.
"You-." Your throat was parched. "You're real?
He smiled, the voice deep and without remorse. "I've been around longer than you, sweetheart. You just couldn't see me before."
Your feet staggered backward until you bumped into the counter. "You're a ghost."
“Mm. You're a terrible little tenant," he said, propelling himself off the wall using that slow, feral elegance. "Walking around half-naked, groaning in bed as if nobody can hear. Do you know what it does to me?"
Heat coursed through your spine at his words, shame and desire knotting unsavorily. "You—you've been spying on me?"
Jun smiled without guilt. "Every night. Masturbating under the covers, sobbing into the pillow as if you crave people's sympathy."
You stumbled backward once more, hand reaching for your towel, face on fire. "Wh-who… who are you?"
His smile spread, sinister and perilous. "I should have made the introduction. I'm Jun." His eyes blackened, voice heavy with desire. "And now you know my name… I think it's time for you to learn what I do to entertain the likes of you."
Your heart thudded as he floated near. You could feel him, warm and substantial, even when he wasn't completely solid. His hands swept past your sides, then your legs, teasing but not touching for a heartbeat—before the impossible occurred.
“Say yes,” he whispered, teeth grazing your earlobe. “Say I can touch you.”
Your lips trembled. “…Yes.”
The smirk that spread across his face was downright wicked.
And then—hands. Warm, hard, and real, sliding down your thighs, prying you open. His mouth closed over your nipple, sucking hard and leaving little kisses of flame. You writhed, jerking back sharply, one hand grasping at thin air where his hair should've been.
“Fuck, you taste even better than I imagined,” Jun groaned. His fingers pressed against your wetness, curling inside you, teasing your entrance. “So ready for me, already… my perfect little toy.”
"J-Jun—" you exclaimed in surprise, writhing involuntarily.
You enjoy it, don't you?" His laughter was rough, sinful, resonating in your chest. "Knowing I've had an appetite for you, desired you, all the time you've been living under my roof… knowing I've been itching to touch you.
His tongue wrapped around your clit, hot and hard, and you shivered helplessly. Each movement of his mouth and hand was precision, unstoppable, making you writhe.
"Come for me, baby," he groaned. "Come on my fingers. Come for your resident specter."
Your body writhed rigidly, legs trembling, hips bucking as jolts of delight rippled through you. Jun's fingers stretched you wide apart, his mouth pumping you deeper, forcing you to scream his name for the first time.
“FUCK—”
It was a contented groan as he yanked you hard against himself when you came hard, shuddering and dripping all around his fingers.
As you finally leaned back on the counter, shaking and winded, Jun towered over you, grinning nastily.
"This," he whispered, his mouth gliding along the shell of your ear, "is only the beginning. Tomorrow night, I'll demonstrate just how much of a ghost I am."
The second night, you didn't sleep. You couldn't. Feeling his hands, his mouth, the way he had made you call his name over and over. It branded itself onto your skin.
By the time you had woken up, you could feel it again—that indubitable sensation of something bearing down on you.
"Mornin', honey,"Jun whispered, his voice wrapping you in silk and fire.
You turned but the room was not there—or so it seemed.
"Come on," he whispered, nearly right inside your brain. "You know I'm here."
And then he was there—standing in your bedroom, his body half-solid, edges of him translucent but his cock hard as rock, obvious as it strained at the sheets.
You've been thinking about me," he whispered, his eyes black and illicit. "About what I've done to you. About what I'm going to do tonight.
Heat accumulated between your knees, and the sheets bunched up in your hands. "Y-yes." you admitted, shivering.
Jun smiled, crouching. "Good girl."
He drifted closer, hand ghosting across your hip before sinking between your thighs. Even though part of him was insubstantial, his touch felt impossibly real, precise, and needy. He spread you open, teasing your clit with two fingers, making you whimper.
"God, you're so wet for me," he moaned. "So eager… so perfect."
Your body jerked uncontrollably. "Jun—”
“Say it like you mean it,” he growled, fingers pressing inside you, curling just right to make you jerk.
"I-I'm yours, Jun…" you exclaimed.
The smirk on his lips widened. He pressed against you fully, cock hard, brushing your entrance. “Mm, that’s what I want. Tonight, I’m going to take all of you. Every inch.”
Before you could react, he solidified further, weight pressing against you, one hand tangling in your hair while the other gripped your hip. His cock slid inside with a slick, wet heat that made you cry out.
"FUCK…" he gritted out, ramming into you. "You feel so perfect, so tight. I could just stay inside you forever."
He fucked you slowly at first so you could get accustomed to the way it felt, but not much later his rhythm was brutal, merciless. His wings—also now fully developed—surrounded the bed, their feathers stroking at your skin as they constrained you.
You can't get away from me," whispered Jun in your ear. "You can't hide. You're mine. All of the thoughts, all of the groans. mine.
You arched, crying out, hands clutching at his translucent shoulders as he hit spots you didn’t even know existed. Every thrust sent shivers through you, every groan from him pressing you closer to the edge.
"Yes," he whispered, voice gruff and raspy. "You enjoy that don't you? Being taken by a spirit. Being utilized… by me"
Your walls held him tightly in place. "Yes! Oh my god… yes!"
Jun's fingers played on your clit, round and round, stroking, as he hammered you harder, deeper, his blows relentless. "Come," he commanded. "Come on my cock. Come on my fingers. Tell me who you belong to."
Your orgasm hit as forcefully as a tidal wave, body twisting around him, mouth open in a scream as the walls rang out. He followed hard upon it, shooting deep within you, his groan as he rode through his orgasm.
But he wasn’t done. Jun shifted, pressing you against the headboard, sliding into you from behind this time, ghostly hands pinning your wrists above your head. He fucked you in new angles, teasing your backdoor, smearing himself inside you, making your body melt around him.
"You are mine," he whispered in the ear, his mouth kissing it, his teeth roughening the shell. "Every inch of you. And every inch is perfect."
You wailed, legs shaking, hips writhing helplessly. His ghostly shape glided above you, hands and mouth propelling you deeper, making stars appear before your eyes, making you howl, shriek for him repeatedly. Once it was finally finished, you lay spread across the bed, gasping, dripping, and completely destroyed. Jun towered over you, scowl easing into something nearly gentle as he rubbed an imperceptible thumb over the side of your cheek. You're mine," he whispered. "All of you. Every night, every thought, every moan." mine. And you knew it was true. He had claimed you entirely, and there was no escape.
hello!! i absolutely love all of your seventeen works, your writing is so amazing 💗
i was wondering if i could request some junhui comfort where he’s home after a long time. it could be angsty, maybe leading into a little spice but you can choose the premise of where it goes! i just wanted to give the idea since we all miss him sm
thank you so much 💗 feel free to skip if it’s not okay! i just wanted to tell you that i absolutely live your writing and i come baxk to your jun works almost all the time!
Jun (SVT) | Back home
fluff | 0.8k | gn!reader
A/N: thank you so much, anon!! you're so sweet ♡ i hope this is okay!
He keeps bumping into furniture. He keeps having to look for snacks, little things he needs. Embarrassingly enough, he can’t remember where to put the dishes when unloading the dishwasher.
It’s the small things that really break a man and Junhui hasn’t felt this lost and desperate in a long time. You always chuckle and reassure him it’s fine, help him figure out his way around the apartment - and he loves that. He loves that he gets to kiss you and tell you he wouldn’t survive without you and hear you laugh. Nonetheless he can’t help but feel sad that you need to do that. He doesn’t want to be a stranger in his own home.
To be fair, it’s understandable. You made some changes - that you’ve consulted and agreed on with him - to the apartment layout, you got some new furniture, and thus stuff just had to be moved around. He remembers how long you’ve complained about getting used to it yourself, so he frankly shouldn’t be taking this as hard as he is. It’s inevitable. He must just be missing sharing the experience with you.
It piles up, though, these little frustrations, and while you’re resting on the couch one day, the television just a background noise for Jun, who’s intently listening to you talking about your day, and you mention sometimes he has no clue about - it just gets too much. You see the way his face falls and his brows furrow slightly and immediately want to make it right.
“Oh my god, I forgot to tell you about this,” you jump up and as excited as you seem to be to fill him up, he can’t match your energy.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers and gives you a sad half smile, “I’ve been gone for too long, right?”
Now it’s your time to frown. You shake your head and put your hand over his.
“Jun, you were working. It’s alright,” you try to reassure him.
“I know, but that’s not what I asked,” he insists. You sigh.
“You were gone for a while, yeah, but it can’t be helped,” you say calmly while you intertwine your fingers, “What’s going on?”
He shrugs. To be honest he didn’t plan to spill the beans, would rather figure it out on his own. You’re looking at him like that, though, and he doesn’t want you to worry. So he takes your other hand into his as well and turns to fully face you.
“I feel like I don’t belong here-”
“Jun-”
“No, please,” he squeezes your hands, “Just listen.”
He doesn’t know where it all came from, but he can’t stop the words from spilling out. He knows he’s rambling and probably doesn’t make sense, one half-finished sentence turning into another, yet he’s helpless to stop. Whenever he looks up, though, you’re listening and nodding along. Jun must be falling in love all over again.
“What I want to say is,” he licks his lips and lets his head fall forward. He hasn’t even noticed you got so close that he can rest it on your shoulder. He’s not complaining. “I missed you and everything feels too new.”
“I missed you too,” you wrap your arms around him, “You’ll settle in, just give it time. There’s nothing else to do. Remember how I kept stubbing my toe on the new dresser? You haven’t once, so you’re already doing better than me.”
He chuckles and finally hugs you back. “Or we can rearrange the place again. So we’re struggling again together.”
“Baby the whole point was that you’d come home and could just relax without worrying about this stuff,” you sigh. Honestly it’s more of a whine because just imagining going through the whole process feels overwhelming.
“Just the bedroom? I don’t want to feel like a stranger in there,” Jun pulls away to give you the best starving man begging for bread crumbs look he can muster. You gaslight yourself into thinking you won’t give in.
“It’s almost midnight,” you try to argue but you’re getting weaker.
“Please? It’ll be quick. We don’t need to do much,” he pleads with you.
And because you’re a fool in love, it’s now two a.m. and you’re shifting the bed closer to the windows. Music is playing softly in the background to keep you energetic. Your boyfriend keeps shushing the furniture as if it was its fault that it’s being moved when your neighbours are likely already asleep. The bedside tables are standing by the wall, judging you.
By four a.m. your bedroom looks familiar but not the same. Jun is beaming though, and that’s important.
This is my personal opinion and perspective. It may not accurately reflect their real-life personalities or behaviors.
Jun loves to keep things lighthearted, so expect him to tease you in the cutest ways—like mimicking your pout or joking about how you’re luckier to have him than he is to have you. But his teasing never crosses the line; it's his way of showing affection.
Jun’s ultimate goal is to see you happy, he thrives on making you smile and feel loved every day.
Jun has a way of staring that’s hard to explain. It’s dark and intense, like he’s memorizing every curve of your soul, every hidden thought you’ve tried to bury.
His hand lingers too long on your waist, his voice dropping an octave when he murmurs your name. It’s like he knows you’re his, and yet he’s daring the world to even try and take you away. God, the weight of his touch burns. He doesn’t even realize the effect he has, does he?
He’s naturally quirky and might fumble when expressing his feelings, but that makes his affection even more endearing. Whether it’s an awkward compliment or a slightly off-beat romantic gesture, it’ll make you smile every time.
While he’s playful, Jun has a deep and thoughtful side.
Jun would hype you up like no other. If you’re pursuing a hobby, achieving a milestone, or just getting through the day, he’s there with endless encouragement and admiration. He makes you feel like you can literally take on the world.
Jun is controlled chaos, a storm trapped in human form. He’s calm when he needs to be, but there’s a fire beneath the surface, one he barely keeps in check when he’s with you. And when he lets it loose—when his lips crash against yours like he’s starved, when his grip on you tightens as though he’ll never let go—it’s nothing short of devastating.
Jun’s empathetic nature means he’s always there to listen when you need to talk. He might not always have the perfect advice, but his comforting presence and kind words will make you feel heard and loved.
While he seems laid-back, Jun’s protective instincts come out when it matters. Whether it’s holding your hand in a crowded place or standing up for you, he ensures you always feel safe and valued.
Jun is unapologetically himself lmao, and he loves you for who you are. He’ll embrace your quirks, and even join in your weird habits.
Jun loves catching you off guard with the sweetest surprises. Like showing up with your favorite food after a long day or leaving random sticky notes with cute doodles and messages ^^
Jun doesn’t have to say much—his eyes do the talking. That heavy-lidded gaze (that has me drunk), the way his lips curl into a smirk when he catches you staring, it sends shivers down your spine. It’s maddening how he can make a single look feel like a promise of things you can’t even articulate without blushing.
He’s the boyfriend who randomly grabs your hand for an impromptu dance in the living room or on the street, twirling you around just because he can. AVGYFVTCDCTDVHVG
Jun isn’t shy about showing he wants to be close to you. He’ll casually rest his head on your shoulder, wrap an arm around your waist in public, or hold your hand like it’s the most natural thing in the world. It’s subtle but constant—he’s always drawn to you.
No matter what random hobby or idea you come up with, Jun is game to try it with you. Whether it’s painting (even though he’s hilariously bad at it) or trying a new sport (as long as it's not associated with ball), he’s all in, just to share the experience.
Jun’s obsession is quiet but all-consuming. You catch glimpses of it in the way he traces patterns on your skin, his fingers lingering just long enough to make you shiver. Or in the way he whispers things in your ear that no one else is allowed to hear. There’s a darkness to it, an addictive intensity that leaves you both exhilarated and unnerved.
Jun secretly loves doing cheesy couple things—matching outfits, taking cute selfies, or planning themed dates. He might act like it’s no big deal, but he’s all in and proud to show off your relationship.
Hey!! You wrote a seventeen with meeting your friends could you do a performance team ver of it? 👉🏼👈🏼
svt + meeting your friends (pt 2)
➔ reaction || requested || performance unit
➔ warnings: none || 0.6k words
➔ notes: fluff ; hiya, happy monday! I did indeed write a post about seventeen meeting your friends, and I'd be happy to write a part two of it. if you liked this, please reblog!
JUNHUI: oh, he's so nervous leading up to it. you keep trying to reassure him that he's fine, that he will be fine; he's literally so funny and personable, and your friends are going to love him. "but what if they don't?" is his immediate counter, and you try not to roll your eyes. "then they don't, and it's not important because I'm the one dating you, not them. but again, it's impossible for people not to like you." somewhere between that statement and the kisses that you pepper across his face, he does feel calmer...only for the fear to return as soon as he steps on your friend's welcome mat. before he can gather his nerves, the door opens, and your friend ushers the two of you in with a grin. "hey! sorry for the rush, but my cat decided to be an escape artist this week. successfully foiled her plans twice, but who knows when she'll—" right on cue, a furry blur tries to dash past your legs, but jun's faster; he snatches the cat up into his arms, placating her yowling with head scratches that quiet her instantly. your friend whistles lowly. "you just became my new favorite person." see? you were right—instant charm.
SOONYOUNG: it comes as a surprise to some people that he's actually on the shy side, especially when it comes to meeting new people, but you know this about him. that's why you propose that he joins your friends for game night; it'll be a big enough group that he won't feel pressured to chat, but still small enough to get a taste of your social circle. and you're right. when he sees the amount of people, the tension in his shoulders ease, melting away completely when you give his hand a squeeze. you slot yourself right between your closest friends, who scoot over to make room for your boyfriend and greet him with a wave. another strategic choice because these two are witty and funny and tasked with making sure that soonyoung feels comfortable, which shouldn't be too hard because he smiles and that's a good sign. of course, the one single thing you didn't take into account...how competitive soonyoung can be with games. he's not an asshole about it at all—he's just loud, and you're pretty sure that he turns into a different person as soon as mafia is mentioned. your friends think he's hilarious, though, clutching their sides as soon as he accuses you again of being a traitor.
MINGHAO: you were worried about his reaction for some reason, but you don't know why because his eyes brighten immediately. "I'd love to be your plus one," he says, already getting up to search his closet for the perfect thing to wear to your friend's western-style tea party. never mind that the event isn't for a month; he's ready to show up and show off for you. literally so extra and insists on matching your outfits in subtle ways and preparing in advance. when he shows up on the day of, your friends have to pause because who invited an actual prince to their pretend party? he is an absolute gentleman through and through, and it's evident in how he carefully helps serve the tea and refreshments. his calming voice and soft chuckles punctuate conversations, and you don't know how he manages to be even dreamier than he already was. before the end of the event, your friends are leaning over the table and inviting him to the after party, which you hadn't heard about—because apparently they just thought of it in that moment. it'll be a private karaoke room and bar with flashing lights and blasting speakers because there's no way that he could be perfect there, too. naturally, he proves them wrong.
There’s a stray eyelash stuck on your other eyelashes and it’s been stressing him out for the last minute or so. He watches with growing unease. It’s like watching a little kid running around with a huge ice cream - a catastrophe is bound to happen. He’s sure it’s gonna fall into your eye any second now. And sometimes, Jun just isn’t a patient man. He knows you’re not yet aware of the risk but it might fall into your eye and he hates when you’re uncomfortable and struggling.
“Do you trust me?” he blurts out before he can really think. You stop talking mid-sentence and give him a wary look.
“Yeah, why?”
“Don’t move,” he says gently before scooting closer. You don’t move away and he slowly exhales all the air in his lungs. This is a delicate operation. He raises his hand to your face and you just keep looking into his eyes without flinching and his chest fills with warmth. He has to get this right.
“Don’t blink,” he whispers, and it hits him how close he is to you - is it too close? you haven’t been dating for all that long… - and what he's about to do and that if his hands tremble it will compromise his entire mission.
His palm hovers over your cheek and you give him the smallest of nods as an okay. Jun cups your cheek and marvels at how warm your skin feels. He moves his thumb up until it hovers directly in front of your eye. You frown but relax when he shushes you. You’re straining to focus on his finger.
“Just trust me. I won’t hurt you,” he mumbles. You relax again, releasing the tension in your with a long exhale. It’s just Jun, after all. Delicately, as if moving an injured butterfly, he brushes his thumb against your eyelashes and removes the stray one away from your eyes. He feels its rough texture on his finger but the sensation fades into nothingness compared to how smooth your skin feels under his palm and how he feels it heat up. He wonders if he's getting red himself. (He knows he is. He feels the same heat rising through his body.)
He reluctantly pulls away because it's now or never and he shouldn’t have invaded your personal space in the first place. It's hard enough as it is to let go, harder with each second. He shows you the eyelash on the pad of his finger as a way of explanation. You laugh and somehow it sounds more addictive than before.
"You could've just told me," you chuckle and push his shoulder. Though it feels more like you wanted to pull him closer.
"Yeah, yeah, I guess I could," he grins, awkwardly and lets his head fall, messing up his hair. He needs to take a break from looking at you. What if this is you letting him down easy? He really didn’t need to do that. "Sorry for being weird."
"I'm glad you didn't tell me," you say and his head whips back up. You lean against him, fully, perfectly. Like a puzzle piece falling into place. He wraps his arm around you and feels something click, something just started making a lot of sense. “You’re cute.”
"I'm glad too," he murmurs, and he can't stop his body from moving. He can't stop his lips from barely brushing against your forehead. His hands tremble, but you're there to hold them.
