#i just realized how much i enjoy talking about my job | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

onlymingyus · 6 months ago

Text

Shut Up

pairing; wen junhui x f reader (ft. xu minghao)

genre; smut (minor dni), angst, fluff

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.

“Mm, thank you for staying.”

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soapybutt17 · 7 months ago

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The Ex and Why's

Summary: No one knows much about Simon’s life aside from what was listed on his files. The family that had died a tragic death, the trauma that came with his actions, and the rank that made him what he was today. No one had realized that behind the balaclava wearing man from Manchester was a man that once had a heart and signed divorced papers he had constantly regretted signing all those years ago.. Character: Simon "Ghost" Riley x Ex Wife!Reader. John Price. Kate Laswell. Johnny "Soap" MacTavish. Kyle "Gaz" Garrick Word Count: 9,787 Chapter Warnings: Angst with Happy Ending. Miscommunication. Mention of Minor Character Deaths. Mention of Divorce. Life threatening Injuries. Mention of Simon's tragic past and trauma. Not edited (sorry!) AN: I can now sleep in peace. If you enjoyed it why not visit my mini celebration and post your own requests I can write just like this.

Masterlist || Request are Open || 500 Followers Celebration

When you had learned about this new job, one thing you had so gotten used to doing was letting Simon know about it. But not this time, something about letting him back into your life wasn’t something you should do anymore. You were no longer married to him by your own choice and no one else’s. So you know it was time to wear your big girl pants now and stopped letting him know about it.

You no longer had any reason to give your ex-husband any updates about your life. A more selfish reason was how you just wanted to start a new life, away from him and away from anything that was related to him.

“Ms. Riley?”

You turned smiling at the man that would now be your new boss. You learned his name to be John Price, a Captain.

Being married to a man like Simon Riley once upon a time, you know some thing or two about what goes on inside of a military base. Even when he hasn’t talked much about it with you during your relationship or if he even gone as far as mention your existence to the people he had once worked with. You chalked it up to overprotectiveness and fear that they would get to you, and some night thing that he was simply embarrassed about you. Maybe it’s another reason why you had opted out of telling him about this new job of yours.

“Captain Price, it’s good to finally meet you.” You firmly shook the man’s hand. A good first impression was the best thing for you to do if it meant making sure you work for the man for the foreseeable future.

“Likewise, Laswell as spoke great things about you and I’m hoping to be able to experience it firsthand.”

You nodded with a smile. Working for Kate’s wife for nearly a few years beforehand, you had appreciated the suggestion for this new role as a secretary for the Captain ever since your divorce. She had understood you needed this change in pace in your life and this was much of a welcome change.

“I do hope it’s all good things.” You quipped right back earning a deep resonating chuckle from the older man.

“Well I think now that introductions as over and done with, let me show you to my office. I do hope you’re up for dealing with a handful of documents for me on your first day.”

“More than happy to.” You beamed following the man, his larger hand holding onto the small of your back as you began your journey into the heart of the base.

All throughout the walk, he was giving your directions to where most things were. You were warned how some men could be rowdy at time and he was more than happy to help in the off chance that any of his men would give you problems.

All you could do was smile, not wanting him to know that you were more than well equipped to punch or kick anyone that would get too handsy with you. One of the perks of having an ex-husband working for the military.

He continued on with how things go around in the base. Schedules for meal time and the curfew in the event that you would be staying in the base overnight. He had also showed you to where your new room would be located in.

“You would be a few rooms away from my own as well as the Lieutenant and Sergeants that I trust most. In the event that I’m unavailable, they will be more than willing to lend you a hand if you need it.”

You nodded before you finally arrived in his office. Opening the door for you, you were greeted with a spacious office. Even in the chaos of the military base, the man’s office was pristine, a few knick knacks and photos that littered his walls, as well as a bookshelf that housed an array of military strategies books. But the most alarming thing about his office was the other table that housed stack upon stacks of folders, papers practically spilling out from each and every single one of them.

“I may or may not have underestimated the help I truly need in this situation.” The Captain said sheepishly as you began opening the folders and gasped that most of them weren’t even ordered correctly even with the page numbers printed on them.

“I think I can manage this.” You blinked hoping you didn’t bite more than you could chew in this moment.

For the next few hours, your time was spent removing staplers upon staplers from the papers for each and every single one of the folders while you were inquiring to John the calls you would be fielding for him from now on and how he would want you to deal with it.

You had learned so much about the man in the few hours being in the same room as him. He was a man that wanted to ensure the safety of the world, even if it meant bloodying his hands up a little just to make sure of it. It showed with some of the missions reports that you may or may not have accidentally read too much into. You’ve also learned how much he hated talking to upper ranking officials if not needed, he was a man that hated authority yet he was working in the field that he was in right now from the way his comments about letting calls from upper ranks go to voice mail if possible.

“Will there be anything or anyone that I should be worried about for now?” You inquired making sure that you did not stir anyone in the wrong way if possible.

“I’m sure Laswell has told you enough to understand our work. Some men are more scarred than sane and if possible, I want you to make sure that you do not give anyone the wrong impression if possible.”

You know what he was implying and with your own experience you know far too well that getting yourself involved with another man in uniform would lead into.

“I’ve done my fair share, Captain. I don’t think that would be much of a problem with me.” You reassured him.

“Laswell told me you were divorced.” He began, huh, who would have thought the man would be the gossiping type.

“It’s been a few years,” You shrugged attention solely on rearranging the files at hand. “It took months before my ex-husband signed the papers, I wanted to think it was because he was deployed but I knew otherwise.” You muttered.

When you had made the decision to finally break things off with Simon, it was like pulling teeth with the man and his near avoidance about the discussion or where you would be sending the divorce papers. You had enough of it, leaving the home you once shared instead with everything you owned and left nothing more of you than the divorce papers alongside the wedding ring and engagement ring he had given you all those years ago.

“He was military too?”

“Something like that.” You nodded not wanting to think too much about the man. Even after everything, you still worried about you giving the man too much information in the event that he works for the opposing side if the chance may have it.

“Well his lost is my gain.” He snorts turning his attention back to the freshly arranged folders courtesy of you that were now ready for his signature. “No offense.”

“None taken, Captain.”

Eventually the man had excused himself for a meeting and had instructed you that no one would be allowed inside aside from him. He had also reminded you about lunch which you could head on out first or you could join him once his meeting was done. You’ve decided it would be best to join him for lunch for now, just to get a feeling of anyone that you would get into contact with on your first day.

With a quick goodbye, you were left on your own and you all but groaned at the folders still stacked up and yet to be touched. It truly made you wonder how the man could be so good in his job yet be so horrible with his paperwork. You will never understand.

Your eyes fixated for a moment on one of the pictures on the wall. It was your boss with three individuals. A blue eyed man with a horrible cut Mohawk but the biggest beaming smile on his face, his arm wrapped around a much younger man with darker skin but a bright eyes that twinkled with happiness for whatever was going on when the photo was taken. But amongst the camaraderie and enjoyment was a man in a skull balaclava mask that had such an empty but somehow familiar eyes, the man stuck out like a sore thumb even with the Captain’s hand resting on the taller man’s shoulder and beaming smile and a cigar between his lips. It was an odd mix of people but it was like family—it made you miss Simon for a moment before your attention got right back to the paperworks.

You can’t think of him now. Not anymore.

After the events of Las Almas, Simon Riley had truly fought the urge to call you, to tell you how much you mean the world to him and how he was now more than willing to give you the compromise you had always longed from him. But a part of him, the bigger and much darker part of him had refused, slamming his own phone onto the wall in the sheer anger of everything that had occurred in the moment. You had made your choice because of his own action and he would be cruel to take that away from you.

“Heard Cap had a new Secretary, old man’s gonna finally keep his paperworks in check now.” Soap had ruining Simon’s sulking in the cafeteria.

It’s been a grueling few days. With new recruits he was forced to deal with in the morning and nightmares that you no longer could vanish for him at night. His life was nothing more than misery personified and he has no one else to blame but himself.

“Can’t say I’m surprise. Laswell probably set it up for him.” Simon muttered being more than within earshot when he heard both Laswell and Price arguing about the man’s need for necessary help with files. It was Laswell’s decision above anything else, it’s just a matter of time if the secretary would actually last with how everything goes around here in the base.

“Still, hope we’ll have a new bonnie around. Getting sick and tired of seeing Bampots all around.”

Simon didn’t even had the energy to question the man’s slangs, his attention solely back on his cup of tea and lunch��how horrible it was compared to your cup and cooking, but he never truly appreciated it until it was gone. His tea was too bitter even with the sugar and cream he added and the food that didn’t have the special kick compared to your own cooking. Even years after the divorce he was still so miserable without you in his life.

“Steamin Jesus.”

Simon could practically hear Soap melt from where he sat in front of him, his eyes directed at whoever was behind Simon. His curiosity got the better of him and his head turned and he was welcomed with the last person he would have ever believed to be walking besides one John Price.

“Yer lookin’ a bit peely wally.” Soap pointed out breaking Simon from his trance.

“English, MacTavish.”

“You look a lil’ pale, Lt. Like you’ve seen a fucking ghost.”

Simon could have at this point. As you walked besides Price towards the table he sat in. He noticed how unaware you were even at the sight of him only for him to realize that you had never seen him with his mask on, or in anything that has to do with his line of work—until now.

“Right, I think it’s time to introduce this lovely lass.” Price cleared his throat but he should have known by now that both Simon and Soap’s attention were already on them both. “This is Y/N Riley, my new secretary.”

Simon’s brows rose at that little tidbit. You still had his last name. He understood to a degree why you did so—your family that you had long cut off from your life after what they had done to you, but after everything that had happened between the two of you he wouldn’t have expect you to choose the lesser of two evils—being his last name.

“Riley? She a sister or wife to you, Lt?” Soap’s quick remark earned him a glare from Simon before his attention was back to you, how your brows furrowed before your eyes finally widen in realization.

“Purely coincidence.” Simon muttered.

“This is Sgt. Johnny “Soap” MacTavish and Lt. Simon “Ghost” Riley.” Price introduced almost realizing at this point the similarity of the last name you both shared in this moment.

“Nice to meet you two.” You smiled, quickly to compose yourself and shaking both men’s hand.

Even with the glove Simon wore, he could still feel the all too familiar electric shock of your touch against his own. He looked at you how easy your eyes dilated at his touch. It scared him still how you had so much of an effect on him even after the years apart from each other.

As you and Price excused yourselves to get lunch, it left Simon wondering if this was the world finally punishing him for everything he has done in his cruel life. Give him the very thing he had wanted the most only to pull it away at every instance.

“Bloody fucking hell.”

It’s been two weeks since you’ve began your new job as Captain John Price’s secretary. Two weeks since you had tried and succeeded in making sure you had avoided the man known in the base as Ghost—or to you, simply known as Simon Riley, your ex-husband. Every single instance that you were both placed in the same room (mostly in Price’s office), you both acted like you didn’t know each other, it was hard knowing just how close the man was after so long of a separation from each other.

But as much of an avoidance you’ve made for the Lieutenant, the same could not be said for the two Sergeants that had been dead set in making themselves both your companion while in the base but as well as your guard dogs from the ballsy few that would dare ask you out on a date. You appreciated the effort as much as it was not needed knowing it earned a dangerous glare from your ex in the process.

“Looks like you’re right at home.”

You jerked your head up from the files you were arranging at the voice of an all too familiar woman. A smile rested on your face at the sight of one Kate Laswell, your former boss’ wife.

“Kate.” You smiled an exhausted sigh escaping your lips at the sight of the woman. Both her and her wife had been the pair that knew what you had been through since your divorce and she was one of the two people that saw behind the façade you had decided to show the world.

“How are you holding up?” She inquired.

“Doing better.” You assured her. “Just a slight problem but nothing I can’t deal with now.”

“Oh no. Is your ex-husband bothering you again? I told you to just say the name and I’ll find some dirt on him in a heartbeat.”

You chuckled, knowing how that would be close to impossible with the man’s stand and rank in the Taskforce.

“Simon Riley.” You said instead and watched the way her eyes widen upon realization.

“Why did I not put two and two together?” She snorted realizing the small misjudgment on her part. “Does John know?”

You shook your head. You didn’t know how, but in the weeks of working at the base, you had been successful enough not to let the small detail spill. It was for both of your sakes and you feared that if you told the man, you would be fired and not him, not that you would want him to choose between the two of you.

“It would be a shame if John couldn’t keep you working for him because of your past with Ghost. I’m actually able to see his files being sent to me on time for once and he’s less stress in this past week for once.”

You blushed, knowing that that was a compliment, something that was rarely spoken by one Kate Laswell in the years of working for her wife.

“I genuinely don’t want to go either.” You spoke honestly. “Even with the situation.”

“Will you keep the information to yourself for now?” She inquired. “What does Ghost think of this?”

“I haven’t talk to him since I’ve gotten here.” You spoke honestly. “And I think it would be better if don’t talk to him about it either.”

“Talk to who about?”

Both of you had jerked your head towards the owner of the voice and it was Price with your husband, Soap, and Gaz in tow. You looked panicked at Kate hoping she could help you out this predicament with the man in the very room with them.

“My wife’s been asking how she’s been holding up since the divorce and if she’s gotten around to talking to her ex.” Kate brushed off and you wanted to face palm yourself, not the answer you were hoping for her to give.

“Wait you were married?” Gaz piped in with surprise.

“Was.” You corrected, eyes glancing towards Simon for a moment before turning your attention right back to the younger man. “But it’s nothing to worry about, you know how Kate’s wife is.” You tried your best to reassure everyone.

“Well that bloke lost something good that’s for sure.” Soap quipped right back with a flirty wink. You’ve learned this was the default with the man. “Right Lt?”

Both you and Kate found yourself looking at the man and it somehow clicked to him that you both were now more than aware of the currently predicament that fell before you and without another word left the office, slamming the door behind him.

To this very day, Simon still can’t understand why he had signed those papers. Why didn’t he just talk with you and made a compromise. Instead he became an asshole that avoided any forms of communications with you until he was left with no other choice but divorce papers waiting for him at home and every single trace of you no longer in the home you two once shared.

In the deepest depths of his bedside drawer was the divorce papers that officially separated him from you, the two ring boxes that housed his wedding ring and the engagement ring he had bought for you. Around his neck, alongside his Dog tag was your wedding ring—the same wedding ring you had left on top of the coffee table of your home, with the divorce papers right under it.

It was his fears that finally came to life and he truly didn’t know why his body automatically signed without even reaching out to you first. To this day, in the years that has passed he still wonder what his life and relationship could be if he fought for your marriage.

Would he still be married to you right now? Would the two of you finally have the family you had always wanted? Maybe by now your first kid would have been three, he had always dreamed of having a daughter. A darling little girl that was a spitting image of you, a daughter he would protect with his life over and over again.

That could have been his life, but he was far too stupid for his own good. He was too much of a bastard that ruins everything good that comes into his life. He pays the price every single night he comes home to his apartment—empty and lacked the warmth that only you could ever give to someone like him.

He made his bed and he was sleeping in tears because of it.

“There he is, good you’ve got your arse here, LT.”

Another one of the mistakes he seems to be making in his life was joining the rest of the team in the pub and realizing that you have come to join them this time around.

Bloody fucking hell you were as beautiful as the first day he had ever laid eyes on you. There was the twinkle in your eyes he had once thought he had diminished as you continued on with whatever conversation you were having with Gaz with Price listening on. You had on your favorite red crepe dress that slightly showed some cleavage but not enough to be indecent, with your favorite locket that he had brought for you while you were still dating, and the first ever expensive Cartier watch you had brought for yourself (which Simon would have more than willingly bought for you if you allowed it) while saving up your checks.

Fate was nothing but a cruel sick man for giving this sight of you in front of him and never allowing him the taste he always craved. A gift that wasn’t his to accept—anymore.

“You know how traffic is, Johnny.” He muttered finding himself sitting beside the man and in the process finding himself sitting right in front of you in the process.

“Bullshit,” Soap snorted. “Stopped by a bonnie we didn’t know about?”

Simon glanced towards you, the momentary hurt that passed through your eyes before you continued on with your conversation with Gaz, now hearing you were both talking about your Uni days and how you found yourself involved with working for Laswell’s wife all those years ago.

“Don’t have the time nor the energy for another headache in my life.” He spoke realizing that it was the wrong thing to say with you in front of him. He could have said it if you were not here, but not in your presence, it diminishes every single thing he had ever had with you.

It wasn’t what he meant but he couldn’t truly take it back.

“I can second that.” You spoke finally meeting his eyes this time. An unrecognizable look in your eyes as you stared right at him. “And this is coming from someone that’s already made a mistake of ever getting married to a man in the military.”

This has opened the floodgate for everyone in the table to question you about your apparent divorce. He had no one else to blame for this than himself. He listened in now as you continued on answering questions about your relationship with him and the eventual divorce, but made sure it was vague enough not to have fingers pointed at him.

“So, you loved the man more than life itself and all that, why divorce?” Soap had asked the million dollar question.

“It’s gets tiresome to love someone that doesn’t want to help himself.” You spoke honestly. “Year of trying to understand him, only to push shoved away over and over again, it hurts and it gets tiresome. I just had to go before the love turns to hate.”

In the years since the divorce, there was never closure between the two of you. The forms of communications that you both had were mostly about him being deployed again or of you and your plans of moving around or changing careers. Never did either of you had the much needed closure that you both deserved—until now, not directed at him.

“If any of you ever attempt getting involved with a guy or girl make sure you’re serious about the relationship a hundred percent, not fifty, not seventy-five, not even fucking ninety. Because that small fraction you’re not giving them might be the very reason why everything falls apart.”

Simon finds himself blinking at the words that now escaped your lips. The downright resentment that still lingered in your tongue even after everything that had occurred between the two of you. He shouldn’t have signed those fucking divorce papers.

Marriage Counseling, they should have had marriage counselling like you had begged from him all those years ago.

He stood, excusing himself to order the next round of drinks. He doesn’t have it in him anymore to listen to your words cutting him to the very core.

One of the biggest mistake about accepting Price’s offer of going out with the rest of the team for a quick drink was forgetting your non-existing alcohol tolerance. As the drink was now swimming through your blood stream, your lips become looser and there were few moments were you had almost spilled the fact that your ex-husband just happens to be sitting in front of you in the table you shared with the rest of 141.

“You sure you’ll be alright to head home on your own?” Your boss has inquired the moment it was announced the pub was closing up for the early morning.

You nodded with a smile, but the warmth that you were certain painted your skin and the dazed eyes, you were all too sure that it would be a big mistake for you to do. Go knows how dangerous it would be for a drunk like you to head home all on your own.

“I’ll take her home.” Simon announced and before you could protest, John had nodded agreeing that it would be the best thing to do and you couldn’t protest or show even a smidge of irritation as you were given a death glare by your ex-husband.

“Thank you for letting me join you guys.” You spoke towards your boss, the giggly duo of Soap and Gaz. “I’ll text once I get home.” You promised them following Simon out of the pub.

You took a deep breath as the cool morning air sobered you up for a moment as you waited for the man with his car. Frowning when you realized the man didn’t have his car with him but rather his death machine known as his motorcycle.

“Here.” He muttered practically shoving an all too familiar helmet towards you.

Like quick work, you had put on the helmet, ensuring to adjust the strap before the man does. You were still unprepared to be in close proximity with the man but here you were.

Watching him pull down the foot peg, he turned to you waiting for you to ride him—ride his motorcycle. With a deep breath you rode behind him, the skirt riding up your legs and he was quick to pull it down for your own decency before revving the engine on.

“Hold on tight.” He ordered and your body was on autopilot as you wrapped your arms around his waist as he sped off.

You know it was the alcohol but you find yourself smelling him, the all too familiar smell of his musk and cologne—the same cologne you had given him when he told you were promoted to Lieutenant. Your head rested on his back, cheek squished against the expansion of his back, feeling the way his back tense at your touch as it had the same effect for you feeling his warmth all over again.

“Where?” He questioned you as the bike halted at the stoplight.

You slurred your words, but you did your best to tell him directions to where your apartment was. Your sober self would have slapped you at the back of the head for letting Simon know about your whereabouts, knowing it wasn’t something he needed to know anymore.

For a moment as the winds blew against your cheeks, you were brought back to the memories of your time together. How you feared his driving and his bike more than anything else in the world but every single time he made sure you were at your safest with him, always did even in this moment.

You remembered the dates you would both have at night when he was at his most sleepless. By the park, your arms wrapped around him as his head rested on your shoulders. How you had carried so much of his nightmare even when you truly knew nothing but what he would let you know which wasn’t much and would only be in the instance that you would have accidentally heard during his nightmares.

You remembered how tired you were as much as you loved him, how much he had meant the world to you in that very moment but slowly but surely it wasn’t the same anymore. You felt the resentment before the anger for everything he wasn’t willing to give you. You gave him everything thing but he could barely give you anything in return.

“We’re here.” Simon announced, pulling away from him you turned and he was right. You were back in your apartment and you didn’t realize how fast time has flown since as you were deep in your thoughts.

Hopping down the bike with the man helping you, you turned to him and your mouth moved before you could stop yourself.

“Want to head inside—for coffee at least as a thank you?”

“I think coffee and a conversation would be the best thing for the both of us to do at this point in time, Love.”

You felt your pulse quicken as everything single thing you had talked about in the pub was coming back to bite you in the ass. Simon has his ulterior motive after all for wanting to escort you back home.

All you did was nod, heading to the door with the man following closely behind. You felt your hands shaking but you had succeeded in keying the door open. Opening the door for him, you walked further inside, opening the lights and toeing off the flats you had on.

You placed your wallet and keys on the coffee table and found yourself sitting on the couch waiting for the man to follow you.

You heard Simon close the door, the sound of the lock being turned and the sound of his leather jacket had you worried for what was to come.

“I fucking take you seriously with the bloody helmet still on your head.” He pointed out as he stood right in front of you, unclasping the helmet from your head and for the first time in a long time, you saw him up close and the way the darkness of his eye bags was the most prominent about him—it had gotten so much worse than when you were still married. Was it because of you?

“Sorry.” You mumbled as you watched him place the helmet on top of the coffee table alongside most of your things.

“Where’s the kitchen?”

You pointed towards you left and the man had made himself at him. The sound of cupboard being opened and the all too familiar muttering of horrible instant coffee you always wanted was heard. You wanted to let out a giggle but the sudden fear of the reality of your decision brought back something you never thought you would ever relive.

You sigh elbows digging onto your thighs, as your slumped your face into your hands. Why did you offer to have him here? Why did you accept the offer of him taking you back home? Why did you accept Kate’s offer of working for John? Why did you decide to divorce Simon?

In your own mini-panic attack, the smell of vanilla latte had you pulling away from your hands and you saw the cup of coffee already in the table and Simon was already sitting in front of you, without the surgical mask and without the figurative mask he was wearing at the base.

“Why are you doing this to me?” He questioned.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Of all the places you could work why the base?”

“It’s not like I knew you were working for Price.” You snort. “It was Kate that suggested I work there—a new environment for me after everything that happened.”

Kate had called it her own version of exposure therapy. You truly appreciated her help even after knowing your ex-husband was working there in the same vicinity as you.

“You could have left?”

You snort. Aside from everything that came with the military, the money was too good to leave—but that was not something you would want to discuss with Simon knowing his intent to still provide for you even with the ink on the divorce papers were still drying.

“Why would I? You and I have nothing between us.” You spoke, knife sharp as his own words of calling you a headache to him.

“What you said to the team is that the real reason why you filed for divorce?”

All you could do was nod.

“You could have talk to me that you weren’t happy anymore we could have made it work.”

“No you won’t, Si.” You shook your head, arms crossed against your chest, you feared the words that would be thrown between the two of you now especially at your state. “I would have made it work.”

“What do you want me to do then? What could I have done then? You say one thing but mean something else?”

“Because every single time I wanted you to open up to me, you closed yourself up even more!” You spat right at him now. “Do you know how hard it was for me to bare myself to you about the shit in my life and in my family only to be reciprocated with how your family was fucked up but not an explanation for it?”

“That’s none of your business.” His voice grows dark, it was a sensitive topic.

“Then why were we even married if it wasn’t my business?” Your voice growing louder now, exasperated by this conversation. “What was the use of our vows if you would keep the smallest things a secret from me?”

“It’s not fucking small!” He screamed right back at you and you instinctively flinched at his voice then. Why was he being so cruel to you now?

“When I married you, I accepted you for who you are, I accepted that you can’t truly tell me what your missions were about or about whatever details about your deployment were. But even just something, anything that would make me believe that I was something more than a whore you could fuck and a maid that would take care of the house and cook you fucking food would have been appreciated.”

“You were my wife, wasn’t that enough?”

“No it was not, Simon.” You spat. “You never made me feel like I was truly your wife when you shut yourself down after coming home to me. You weren’t the same man that I had accidentally spilled coffee on when we first met.”

“If you knew me for the things I’ve been through you wouldn’t look at me the same way.”

“And how would you know that?” You questioned him. “How could you think for me when you don’t even know what I would think of you after everything we’ve been through?”

“You want to know the truth?”

“Yes. Maybe that way I can finally move on from anything that has to do with you.”

You know that was the wrong thing to say as the man cracked his neck and began to talk. About his life, about the abuse he had to endure at the hands of his father. He began to talk about the new beginning of his life when his father died and everyone tried their best to recover. He told you of his mother that he loved more than anything else at that point, of his brother, of his sister-in-law, and of his young nephew Joseph.

He told you about how he was finally at peace with the trauma of his life back then before things gotten to hell and back. He told you of the man named Roba, he told you of the abuse he had to once again go through at the hands of Roba’s men, physically, mentally, and sexually. He told you why he hated confined spaced after being buried alive in a coffin with a man named Vernon, a rotten corpse that he had to use the jaw of to escape death.

He told you of the death of his family, of Marcus Washington killing his family. Killing his mother, his brother, his sister-in-law, and his nephew that didn’t deserve being involved in anything the mission was about. He told you how he had to burn the bodies of what was left of his family and his identity in the process. You learned then why he was called Ghost and what it had meant for him and his past that continued to haunt him.

You were left stunned, unable to form words about everything that has happened to your husband. But it was the fact that now everything about him made sense. All the little things about his personality of why he was the man that sat in front of you today. It all made sense and it scared you that he was right. How you truly didn’t know what to say or what to feel now that you’ve learned of his past that he tried so hard to hide from you.

“Happy?”

“Don’t be cruel, Simon.” You whispered now, the tears were slowly forming from your eyes now, you wanted to cry for him, to mourn the family that he had lost and for adding yourself into the pain he was now enduring.

“Cruel?” He laughed, no humor in his words, malice was more evident. “What’s cruel is you still using my last name and airing out our dirty laundry to the men I work with instead of talking to me first.”

“It doesn’t matter anymore.” You shook your head, stung by his words. He was right but you weren’t going to admit it right now. A small ounce of pride still clawing its way out of you. “And you know why I still used your last name.”

It was your family. You wanted to erase was little traces of your family remained. Even in the divorce, you always had it in mind to remain a Riley. It was better than having to be the ghost of your former self all over again.

He stood now, knowing it was all he needed to know. He walked away but somehow a lingering thought had you opening your lips all over again.

“Why didn’t you fight for me, Si? Why did you sign the papers back then if you truly didn’t want to break up?”

“Because no matter how much I loved and needed you in my life, I will always choose your happiness before my own.” He answered, opening the door and leaving.

The sound of his bike echoing as you were left to mourn the closure of your relationship with the man that had meant the world to you. With all the regret finally coming full force you were left knowing that you had broken the man more than he already was and there was no turning back from it anymore.

It’s been well over a year now since you have been hired as Captain John Price’s secretary. Things were slowly but surely getting better for you and your career. Since the day you had talked with Simon, you wouldn’t say things between the two of you were getting better but you were civil with each other. You’ve interacted with him a few times, especially when it came to paper works but nothing more was said between the two of you.

Even with Price’s rule of not getting yourself involved with anyone in the team, it was becoming a mission for both Gaz and Soap to set you up with people on the base. Doctors or medics were somehow their number one target for you, but every single time, you find yourself relenting to just one date but never pushing for something more.

After knowing the truth about your ex, you didn’t have the heart to be so cruel to him more than you already were working in the base as him. Your free time away from base were spent with hobbies you had while still being married to Simon, baking and journaling, it was relief to be able to do it now with a new light was shed to the events of your marriage failing. You’ve also come to accept the offer of Kate’s wife’s therapist. It was a big help to be able to talk to someone else about everything you’ve been through.

You’ve learned to accept that you had your own mistake in the failure of your marriage just as much as Simon did. But your therapist has also come to mention that you needed to begin your own journey of healing from the what ifs of it, and live in the aftermath as painful as it was for you now.

“That dangerous?” You found yourself fearing for the worse at the conversation you were having with your boss as he explained to you the vague details of the upcoming mission him and the rest of the Task Force had for today.

With the chaos of prepping and planning, your boss was constantly on his feet and you were following him every step away for most of it to field calls and handle most of the paperworks to be sent out to sign and shipped to the higher ups. But to know a glimpse of what was happening and how your ex-husband would be involved in all of this worried you more than you would like to admit.

“It is what it is, if it meant a safer and better world, we would do it over and over again.” He explained.

“Just be careful, I still want to keep my job and I can’t if you’re dead, Boss.” You teased.

“Laswell can still be able to deal with you if I’m gone.” He retorted right back earning a quick laugh from you.

One thing that you had gotten so used to was his humor and how you had showcased your own as time went by working for the man. You appreciated him for being one of the two best bosses you had ever had in your career.

“Shouldn’t you be preparing for the mission?” You quipped right back.

“I should.” He chuckled standing right up in his full height. “Can you go check on the boys for me while I do?”

You could have refused, but a small part of you wanted to check up on Simon. Standing up, you had made your round, first stopping by Soap’s room to check up on him and notify him about the mission. Soap being the man that he was already suggesting you another man in the base beforehand.

“How about Micah? Pretty bloke that just joined the Medic team.” He began shoving the rest of his things into his duffle bag.

“Johnny, for the last time, I’m not into those pretty type you think I’m into.” You tried to indulge him in the conversation for now knowing it would ease him from the mission.

“What is your type so me and Gaz could actually find someone for you?” He pouted.

“Tall, blonde, dark and broody and with a heavy Manchester-accent.” You indulged him with description of the only man you actually loved.

“Why the fuck are you describing Ghost?” He snorts. “You got a thing for him? I thought you swore off anyone from the military?”

“Never said it was Ghost, Johnny.” You quipped right back. You hugged him and have him wrap his arms around you right back. “Be careful for me will you, I can’t live my life here in the base knowing you or Gaz aren’t here trying to set me up with anyone and everyone in the base including the married ones.”

“Hey we didn’t know Wilson was married.” He protested as he pulled away to look at you in offense.

“At this point I’ve already had dinner with half of the base, let’s keep it to a minimum when you get back. I might show you my ex so you can have an idea of what my type is.”

“Deal.” He grinned kissing you on top of the head before leaving to head to the meeting room.

You next stop was Gaz which wasn’t much of a journey with how close his room was to Soap’s. Knocking inside, you were immediately welcomed into the arms of Gaz. Unlike Soap that had been fixated with setting you up with someone in the base, Gaz was more focused on the next get together you could go to after the mission.

“I think me and Soap could convince Price to have a weekend in his vacation house in Cornwall.”

You nodded knowing it wouldn’t take much to convince Price if it meant helping the rest of the team with de-stressing and ensuring everyone has recovered mentally from the mission. But it also meant that you would be in charge of cooking knowing you and Price were the only ones that knew how to cook and you wanted your boss to actually have time to recover himself in the process.

“As long as you help me with grocery and prepping then you got a deal.” You winked pulling away from him with a smile already excited to bake them your famous apple pie they constantly beg you to make for them since the first time making it for them.

“Deal.” He grinned kissing you on the cheeks and just like Soap, finding himself heading out with his bag already at hand.

It now meant you had one last person you needed to stop by before the mission prep. You took your time somehow rehearsing what you could probably say to the man for his upcoming mission. You had your worry and you knew this was a dangerous mission.

Knocking on his door, you heard the gruff response from the other side of the door.

“Simon?” You called and immediately heard the door being unlocked.

You were faced with him wearing his skull balaclava mask. This was the side of him that you never gotten used to see but it was a part of him that you could never truly erase from him.

“What’s wrong?” He asked you allowing you to walk inside.

“Price told me to notify you about heading out for the mission.” You explained. “And I just—I just wanted to ask you to be careful on the mission.”

“Always.” He nodded.

A moment of silence has passed between the two of you before you were reminded of your therapist’s words. There was nothing wrong if you extended an olive branch to the man after everything was out in the open.

“After the mission, I would love to have you join us in Price’s cabin in Cornwall for a quick vacation too.” You added. “I know you’re busy with whatever you need to do to distress after a mission, but I would think it would be good to you if you joined. I can opts this one out if you’re more comfortable with that.”

“I’d go.” He nodded. “But I want you to join along and I want you to make me that lovely cheesecake you always make for me after I come home from deployment.”

You smiled knowing that it was always the same, a way to a man’s heart is always through his stomach.

“Anything else you want?” You asked wanting to give in to his all too simple request.

“And I want us to at least be friends, you’re part of the team now and they care for you and it wouldn’t do anyone good for us to act like we can’t stand each other.”

You nodded, heart aching a little at what he wanted. Friends. That was all he wanted and you would gladly compromise this time for him if that was what makes him truly happy.

“Friends.” You smiled, taking a hesitant step towards him for a hug but stopped mid movement as he pulled you right into his arms. The all too familiar warmth that consumed him.

“I wished things would have been different between the two of us.” He whispered kissing the top of your head. “I’d give you the world when I couldn’t give you myself fully.”

You closed your eyes wrapping your arms around his broad back.

“I wished I was strong enough for the two of us.” You whispered the tears slowly forming your eyes. “I wished I stayed a little longer for the two of us.”

“I never stopped loving you, Love. We might not be married anymore but you will be the only woman I will ever love truly with all my life and with all my soul.”

“You too, Si.” You whispered looking up at him allowing the tears to flow freely from your eyes now. “After everything that had happened between us, I will always love you.”

It was the middle of the night when you heard the familiar ringtone of your old phone. The same phone that only Simon knew the number to. You blinked away the sleep as you pulled the phone right out of the bedside table.

An unfamiliar number took you by surprise and for a moment you wanted to not answer it thinking it might be a telemarketer—but something had pushed you to press the answer button and hear whoever was on the other line.

“Hello?” You whispered clearing your throat.

“Mrs. Riley?” The familiar voice of John had you tensing. You found yourself sitting up from the bed as he began to introduce himself and why he had called.

“What happened to Simon?” You questioned checking your bedside clock to see what time it was.

It was just past midnight, three weeks since they had left for their mission and this was the first time you had gotten any contact to any one of them.

“As of right now, we are not sure if he would make it through the night. If you want we could have you someone fetch you to see him.”

You felt your world still at the news. Just when things were finally moving into the right direction between you and Simon.

“I’ll be there as soon as possible.” You assured hanging up and changing into some sweatshirt and sweatpants.

The travel to the now familiar base was a daze to you as you drove. You weren’t much of a religious person, but your lips did not stop moving as you prayed. You prayed that your husband would be alright, you bargained that you would make things right with him if it meant he would stay.

“Don’t leave me, Simon.” You whispered over and over again until you arrived to the base.

You had ignored most of the surprise that the soldier on duty had shown at your sudden appearance—the fact that you were in just your ratty clothes was also something you chose to ignore as you made a beeline to where the infirmary was.

Huddled in front of the door was your boss, John, Soap, and Gaz. Each and every single one of them injured in their own way—mostly superficial from the bandages that plastered all over their beaten faces.

“John.” You called having three heads turning to you in question. “How is he?” You questioned as the tears begin to fall from your eyes at the reality of the situation coming to crush you. “How is my husband?”

The realization washed over all of them, of the secret you and Simon had hidden from everyone. The weight was too much as you were wrapped in the arms of the family you had found yourself becoming a part of.

“Will he be alright?” You pleaded, holding onto John’s vest. “Please tell me he will be alright.” You begged falling to your knees in front of him.

“The doctors are doing their best, Love.” John reassured kneeling in front of you, wrapping you into his arms as you continued to sob. “But Simon took most of the impact from the explosion.”

The reality scared you so much. You tried you best to remember the last interaction you had with Simon, the hug, the promise of a new beginning, and everything else in between. It all came crashing down to this very point.

There was a very big chance that you will finally lose Simon and it scared you so much more than anything in this world. You couldn’t lose him, not like this, not when there was so much left between the two of you to make up for.

“He can’t leave me, John.” You whimpered. “He promised me he wouldn’t leave me like this.” You screamed at the top of your lungs.

You were made aware of the vows you had made to each other when you got married at the court house. Of how he had promised to the best of his abilities that he wouldn’t die in the line of duty before he could have the chance to retire. He promised you a family, he promised you the world, and he promised you your happiness. He was your family, he was your world, and he was your happiness that you realize only when it was too late.

For the next few weeks, the world around you had become blur. You were now much of a permanent fixture of the Taskforce’s base. Morning and the afternoon was spent still working for Price, especially with the piling number of paperworks the mission had caused and your nights were spent in the infirmary, watching over Simon that has yet to awake from his slumber.

When the doctors had given you the green light that you can see him—it took you hours before you did. Even after John, Soap, and Gaz had finished with their own visit, it took so much of what little strength you had to finally see him in his state.

Broken bones, laceration, head trauma, blood loss and amongst the other injuries that the doctors has informed you should have killed him but he was still alive even in his current state. He still had fight in him, he was still fighting to keep alive.

“I’ve come to realize that post-mission Price was a whole different breed of a grump, more than he usually is.” You began talking to your still unconscious ex.

The doctor had told you about him being able to hear your voice and you took the opportunity to talk his ear off with him unable to give his usual sarcastic comments or grunts as response. There were days you told him about your day at work, days where you told him about what you had been doing since you left your home and tried and failed to move on from him, and there were days where you apologized to him, regretting the divorce and everything else that been the reason for the demise of your marriage.

“I think since the divorce I’ve realized a lot of shit about us.” You sighed leaning against the uncomfortable plastic chair. “If you wake up, I’ll try to do my best to convince you to take me back.” You mused arms crossed against your chest. “I know you don’t have as much of a happy memory after what happened to your family, but when you wake up, I want to make sure we make as much happy memories as we could together, I want you to tell me about what your Ma was like, what kind of brother Tommy was like, and how adorable Joseph was, I want all of that and more with you.”

You wiped away the tears that have yet to fall, you didn’t want to cry. You thought that you didn’t have any more tears to shed. The gravity of almost losing Simon was the wakeup call you needed and now it was nothing more than a waiting game until he wakes up.

“I fucking can’t be your friend, Si.” You admit. “I can’t be happy with just being your friend. I want you to be my husband again, Si. After almost losing you I know I can’t live knowing we haven’t fixed our relationship. I’ll do anything and everything to make it up to you, all the pain and hurt I’ve caused you.”

“Anything?”

You almost jumped from where you sat at the sight of the man whose eyes were now focused on you.

“Simon?”

“Am I just high or did you say what you did?”

“What?”

“That you would make up for everything?” He muttered groggily.

“I did.” You nodded blinking in disbelief that he was here, awake. Alive.

“Then marry me. Let me make it right this time, Love. I promise I’ll make it work, I’ll do my best to make you happy the way that you deserve.”

“Yes.” You answered almost immediately, finding yourself giggling about how ridiculous his second proposal was with his current state—but you didn’t want it any other way.

He requested for you to take his dog tag around his neck off and only then did you notice that your wedding ring enclosed around his necklace. Even with the years that passed, he still had it with him. The very same ring you two had brought together before you had headed to the courthouse for your marriage.

“Can I add another stipulation?” He held onto your free hand.

“Anything.” You smiled rubbing your hand against the callousness of his hand. “Anything to make it work, Si.”

“No more blind dates from the Sergeants.”

“They could never hold a candle to you, Simon.” You giggled leaning in for a kiss, the weight that rested on your shoulders slowly easing away.

You were home, you were back in the arms of Simon after all was said and done.

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nereidprinc3ss · 7 months ago

Text

come on home

in which the only person who can comfort you after your breakup with spencer reid, is spencer reid

inspired by the song "summer's end" by the artist currently known as phoebe bridgers

wc 2857

warnings: gn!reader (correct me if im wrong), minor mommy issues, angst, happy ending

a/n: thank you to the person who requested this:) u r an angel and I listened to this song the whole time i wrote (if you haven't heard, listen!!) i sincerely hope you enjoy, i like this one a lot<3

She hung up on you.

Forty-seven minutes of being insulted and berated after you’d called her looking for comfort, and you put up with every single cruel word—just for your mother to hang up on you. And it’s exactly the kind of thing she’d do, so you shouldn’t be surprised. An ache, you’d expect—but it shouldn’t sting like this. You thought you knew better.

Now you’re in a ball on your couch, clutching your phone to your chest and crying. There’s no point hiding it. Your roommate is out with her girlfriend for the evening—which is too bad because even though you feel like being alone, you’re sure that’s the wrong call. Your other friends are out having fun tonight, too. They’d even invited you, but you turned them down. Look where that had gotten you. Obviously, your mother is not the person you’re about to run to for comfort, either.

You try to pretend, while you’re thinking of all these people who have ever cared for you, that Spencer Reid isn’t on your mind at all. You try to pretend like you don’t care that the person who loved you until you believed you actually deserved it is a contact going stale deep in the bowels of your text cache. With bleary eyes you scroll down, looking for your conversation where it gathers dust—the end of your relationship was a mutual decision, and you’re friendly, but you haven’t texted in a few weeks. Probably because every time the conversation starts to feel a little too easy, or the phone call lasts a little too long, that aching void in your chest gets worse and worse. Like pain in a phantom limb, you become acutely aware of what you do not have and how much it hurts.

So blame it on the tears, or the mind-muddling melodrama of your relationship with your mother, blame it on anything but the truth—when your thumb drops on that call button like the plunger on a syringe, you don’t regret it.

What you’re not expecting is for him to answer after the first ring.

“Hi,” you say with a snuffle before Spencer can get a word in. There’s a brief interlude, in which you pick at your nails, comfortable to just sit in silence if that’s what he wants. As long as he’s there.

“Hi.” Hearing his voice instantly melts a bit of the weight you hadn’t realized you were carrying. Another pause, for which you remain silent, because you can feel him formulating a question—and you’d like to hear him speak again. “...am I allowed to ask if you’re okay?”

Your lips purse and twist to the side, pained and comforted by how easily he can tell that you’re distraught. One word across a tinny connection, and he knows.

“No. Yes. I mean... I guess that’s why I called you. But you don’t have to ask me about it.” You sniff again and take a deep breath. “How was your day? What state are you in?”

“I’m in the district,” he answers after a moment, easing into a casualness that he likely doesn’t feel for your sake. Wind crunches through the speaker. He probably just got out of work. “My day was... it was good. I got to talk about my job to a bunch of elementary schoolers, which is always a confidence boost.”

You chuckle, still laying on your side on the couch and watching storm clouds gathering outside.

“Nice, nice. What else?”

“Let’s see... I forgot lunch, so I had three oranges, and they were actually pretty good. I reread Game of Thrones—I don’t know why I did that. I’m never going to like that book.”

“Masochist,” you smile. He laughs, and you hear the sound of a car door opening.

“Oh! I talked to my mom. Believe it or not, she says hi.”

A completely inadvertent snort constitutes your response. It’s not what you meant to do, and out of context it’s sort of mean, but you actually think it’s incredibly endearing that he still talks to his mother about you. He scrambles to explain himself.

“I swear, we barely talked about you this time. Mostly we talked about her new boyfriend Leonard.”

“No, no, that’s not... I’m sorry, I’m not laughing at you or your mom. That’s really sweet, actually. Tell her I say hi too.”

When he next speaks, you can hear the smile in his voice.

“I will.” Another long pause. You imagine him sitting in the parking lot at Quantico, keys vertical in the ignition of his old car and feeling the silence just as much as you are. He surprises you by not ending the conversation—instead he asks a question. It is concern, poorly disguised with nervous humor. Or maybe you just know him too well. “Do I get to find out what’s on your mind, or are you leaving me in suspense here?”

You bite the inside of your cheek.

“Um... well, actually, I just got off the phone with my mom, too. It didn’t go so well,” you laugh halfheartedly, “I know it was dumb to try and have an actual conversation with her, but... you know me. Always following blind optimism to the depths of hell.”

“Why’d you call your mom?” he asks, so gently it brings a fresh round of tears to your eyes. Still, you attempt to put a cheerful affect on your strained voice.

“Mm, you know. Just needed someone to talk to.”

Spencer’s knowing sigh does little to make you feel better.

“You know you can always talk to me, right? I know it’s... it’s different now, but... I care about you a lot. And, you know, I receive very few phone calls, so the line is pretty much always open.”

Your laugh quickly devolves into a cry.

“I appreciate that, but I can’t talk to you about everything.”

“Why not?” he pleads immediately, voice thin and desperate like it’s his most burning question. A million lies dance over the tip of your tongue. A million things that feel safer to say than the truth. But in the end, it comes out anyway—choked, and so quiet, but aloud nonetheless.

“Because I’m trying really hard to stop missing you so much.”

Another long beat of silence. The back of your throat feels dry and hollow—a cage for your hummingbird heart.

“If it hurts too much to talk to me, you don’t need to do that to yourself. But I also don’t want you to hurt yourself thinking you’re alone. You are... so important to me. I will always try to take care of you the best I can—whether that means staying away or being at your front door. If you ever need me, or even... vaguely want me, I will be there.”

Each word caves your resolve. Each syllable is a slap in the face to progress you’d been pretending to make. You can be strong—you've proven that over the past ten weeks. You can be stone-faced and slash at your heart until the scar tissue is thick and jagged, and eventually it won’t hurt anymore. But maybe, by letting someone tend to the wounds, they’ll heal a little nicer. A little kinder. Even if you can’t undo the damage, maybe one day you’ll be soft again.

“What if I vaguely want you right now?” you sniffle.

Finally, you hear the silver jingle of keys turning. The sputter and rumble of an old engine coming to life.

“Then I’m on my way.”

Twenty four minutes later, there’s a soft knock at your door.

After the call had ended, you’d wondered if you made it all up. Surely your ex-boyfriend wasn’t actually about to show up at your apartment. Someone you’ve grieved for can’t just come back—there are countless horror novels and movies based upon that very tenet. Does it matter if they ever actually died? How long is ten weeks, really? It feels like a lifetime.

You shuffle across the room, wiping under your eyes with your already damp sleeves, and undoing all the locks Spencer had conditioned you to start using. When the door cracks open, and you see Spencer standing there, windswept and concerned, for the first time in months, it hits you like a tidal wave. You are, beyond a shadow of a doubt, still just as in love with him as you ever were. The relief that floods your veins as he looks down at you with so much care in his eyes is like sinking into warm water. It’s a dead giveaway, and maybe it makes this whole thing a terrible idea, but you can’t seem to care very much. You open the door wider, and he enters, and he stands in your kitchen with his hands in his coat pocket as you shut the door and he’s perfect. It dawns on you that for the first time since the breakup, you feel safe. Like you don’t have to be a stone pillar anymore. This, of course, translates into even more tears, which you try to hide as you face away, re-locking the door.

“Sweetheart...” he sighs, because you can’t hide anything from him. Hearing the resonance of his voice so close to you once more is overwhelming. In an instant you’re rushing into his arms, and he accepts you without hesitation. You bury your teary face in the vetiver safety of his button-up and slip your arms under his coat, as if you could absorb his warmth and forever hide from the world that way. He pulls you even closer. It’s terrible and cruel how much he is exactly what you needed. “What’s wrong? What did she say?”

You shake your head and gasp a small sob.

Truthfully, you’re not really crying about the petty insults from your mother anymore. You’re back to square one, the reason you’d called your mother to begin with—you miss the man whose arms are currently wound around your shoulders.

His hand smooths over the back of your hair.

“Okay. That’s okay. We don’t have to talk about it.”

You stay like that—content even as you cry because being with him feels so much safer than being alone. It feels right—or perhaps it’s just familiar. You don’t know which is worse.

Spencer is rubbing soothing lines up and down your back as you cling to him, soaking him up in all his ephemeral, comforting glory. He surprises you by chuckling—it vibrates through his chest, buzzing against your ear.

“Nice Magritte print. I bet the person who bought that has fantastic taste.”

“Are you gonna ask for it back?” you mumble into the fabric of his suit jacket. He is, of course, referring to the painting you’d more or less stolen from his apartment seven months ago. You really don’t want him to take it home. It’s the most overt Spencer memorabilia you’d allowed yourself to keep in plain sight.

“No, baby. You can keep it.” The words are low, and kind, and they settle you some, but you can’t seem to get him close enough. “What can I do?” he whispers after a moment, helpless as you take a shuddering breath. “Can I make you tea? Have you eaten?”

“Will you just... stay for a little bit? I’ll—I promise I’ll stop crying.”

There is an unexpected lull where you thought you’d receive pretty immediate agreement, but before you can pull back and ask what’s wrong, he murmurs, “yeah. I can stay for a while. But you have to kick me out before it gets too late.”

You wonder if you’re imagining the double-entendre that seems to underline his words in bold red ink. Spencer is too smart to have not noticed a thing like that. You don’t mention it—it all boils down to the same unspoken idea.

Don’t let me stay, because I might not leave.

“I will,” you sniff, finally stepping back and wiping your own tears. It hurts to lose his touch, but at least you know he’s not going anywhere for the next few hours. This, as opposed to everything else lately, can be a beginning instead of an end.

At least, until he goes home.

Three and a half hours later, after tea, an impromptu dinner comprised mostly of cheese and crackers, and several vinyl changes on your record player (which served only as background noise for your long, ambling conversations), things are seeming to wind down to a natural stopping point. Which you hate. The whole time you’d had a dull ache in your chest because talking to him was easier than breathing and you knew it wouldn’t last. There had been one or two false bottoms already—the first when you’d yawned around nine, and the second when you’d gotten up to do your skincare and brush your teeth half an hour later. Even then he’d just leaned against the doorframe, watching your reflection above the sink as you talked for fifteen more minutes. Now you stand across from each other in the kitchen, plates restacked and everything in order. Of course he’d insisted on helping you clean up.

“I should go,” he says, with a soft sort of finality in his voice.

“Is your carriage turning into a pumpkin?” you tease gently, to hide how much you don’t want him to leave. He smiles—a small, weary thing—but genuinely and endlessly charmed by you.

“That among other things.”

“Would you—would you walk me to my room first?”

The hesitance is clear in his eyes and the way his lips part as if to say, ‘I don’t think that’s a good idea’, but you're sure he’s really going to leave in a moment and you’re also sure he won’t deny you this one small thing before he does.

“Okay.”

It’s a short, silent walk through the living room and down the hall to your bedroom door, but you can feel him trailing behind you the whole way. You stop in front of your open door, turning face to face with him.

“Thanks,” you murmur.

His lips pull into a melancholy smile.

“Anytime.”

There’s nothing left to do but wrap your arms around each other once more, tuck yourself into the you-sized space between his head and shoulder and hold on for as long as he’ll let you. The hug lingers for longer than is wise. Spencer adjusts his arms looped around your waist, pulling you closer, and you nuzzle against his neck, grateful that at least he seems as reluctant to let this end as you are.

But eventually, it relaxes. Your hold on each other loosens. His face is just inches from yours, and you get to study every plane and valley and line like you’d thought you never would again. It seems he’s doing the same—losing himself in the luxury of seeing you up close.

“Will you kiss me goodnight?” you whisper, unable to muster any self-consciousness though you know it’s a fool’s errand. Spencer strokes your waist.

“I can’t do that, honey.”

“Why not?”

His voice is just as quiet as yours. It falters slightly as he speaks, so gently, so patiently.

“Because we’re not together anymore.”

“Why not?”

Your feeble, desperate supplication sounds pitiable even to you. You’re not proud, but you can’t find it in yourself to be ashamed, either. All you want is an answer. But it’s like a child asking why the sky is blue, or the earth is round. There is a definitive explanation, but mostly, the adult will shrug, and say, that’s just how it is.

Spencer’s eyes squeeze shut. His head tilts down.

“We can’t do this again, sweetheart. You know why we’re not together.”

In theory—yes. You’d had so many conversations when you’d broken up. It had been a long, painful process, spanning multiple all-nighters at his kitchen table, nursing coffee and trying to convince each other and yourselves that it was the right choice. But it just feels like a horrible, horrible mistake. You feel desperate to explain this to him before he slips away again—the words come out flustered, inelegant as you cling to him.

“But I don’t think I’m getting better without you. I tried, I tried so hard to be good on my own, but everything is worse and harder and—and we weren’t sure about it then, and I don’t think it was the right choice, because I still really need you. Like, all the time. I’m—it’s not getting better without you. Nothing got better.”

He swallows, eyes darting between yours for an infinite second. You’re breathless and your heart is pounding after your confession—you can feel your eyes stinging with the few tears that managed to escape as you spoke.

“Everything is worse,” he agrees shakily. “Everything. I’m—I’m getting disciplinary infractions from Hotch like I’m a child because I can’t focus on anything. Game of Thrones is the most complex literature I can comprehend right now. I had to use a calculator the other day.”

You want to laugh, but nothing is funny until he’s yours again.

“Then come back. Please come back, Spencer.”

Finally, he leans closer, until your heads are pressed together, and his nose bumps yours, feather light. You're dizzy. You exhale. He inhales.

“I don’t think I knew how to leave in the first place.”

When he kisses you, it feels like home.

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fic #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds

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satorusugurugurl · 8 months ago

Text

JJK Men: FWB? No, I wanna be your boyfriend!

Summary: Your Friends with Beneifit's partner realizes they want to be more!

Characters: Nanami Kento, Geto Suguru, Toji Fushiguro, FAB!Reader

Word Count: 3,957

Warnings: FWB, smut, oral sex, fluffy feelings, public sex

A/N: Ah, FWB, but more. Delicious smut; the brainworms were good to me! 🤣❤️

Nanami Kento:

Nanami pouted, his eyes focused on your back as some guy flirted with you. He hated seeing other people looking at his best friend like you were just a snack. It made him sick to his stomach. No one would treat you better than him. But you two agreed: friends with benefits, nothing more than that. All because Nanami thought it would help with not ruining your friendship.

And it did. Things were never awkward. You both had sex, got off, and it was perfect! No more creepy Tinder dates for you; Nanami wasn't stressed out as much. Plus, he got to remain friends with you. The arrangement was without flaw. Expect moments like this.

When he saw other people watching you, how you flirted back with the smile that had him raging, he wanted the source of your smile. Usually, when this sort of thing happened, he turned away, but something about this guy had him on edge. He was looking at you like you were a piece of meat, something to take home and fuck. You didn't deserve that. You deserve the best.

“Ooh, they fuckin.” Nanami flushed deep red as he turned to glare at Gojo, who was whispering to Geto.

“Satoru, please, it's rude to assume that,” Geto whispered back, eyeing Nanami. It was when the dark-haired man saw the flush on Nanami’s face and neck that he gaped. “Oh my god, they are fuckin’.”

“Shut up, we're just friends with benefits.”

“Oooh, Suguru, do you want to tell him?”

“Mmm nah, you go ahead, Satoru.”

Gojo leaned forward, smirking at Nanami. “Friends with Benefits don't glare daggers at strangers their FWB is talking to. Not unless they want more~.” With flushed cheeks, Nanako got up, downing the last of his drink. “Ooh, what are you going to do?!”

“Fuck you.”

“Eeeh, sorry buddy, that's Suguru’s job!”

“Satoru.” Geto purred with a smirk.

Nanami could care less about who was fucking who in their relationship. The only person he was concerned with fuckin was you. But not in the way he usually would, no, not anymore.

He stormed towards you, grabbing your wrist gently. The sudden contact had you jumping as Nanami pulled you up. He didn't say a word as he dragged you away from the asshole hitting on you. You were too stunned to speak as Nanami pulled you into the bathroom, taking you to the back stall.

Standing in the corner, you gawked as he locked the stall door. “Okay, what the actual fuck Nanami?” You were slightly annoyed, tapping your shoe against the dirty tile floor. “I was enjoying my conversation with that guy!”

“The guy that looked at you like you were a piece of ass?”

His straightforward response caught you off guard. “Huh?”

“That guy would take you home, fuck you, and never call you back because that’s the type of guy he looks like!”

“Oh? And since when do you concern yourself with my dating life? We're friends, Nanami! You're not my boyfriend!”

“Oh, I'm much more than just a friend!” Nanami crowded you, slamming both hands on the wall on either side of your head. “I’m your best friend! I'm your colleague! I’m your lover!”

His anger left the two of you stunned; your heart was racing as he inched closer to you. “You set up our arrangement. You said this was for the best; we wouldn't ruin our friendship if we kept it casual. You said that!” Nanami watched your cheeks burn, your eyes avoiding his at all costs.

“You're right. This was my arrangement. And I don't think I can do it anymore.”

That caught your attention, Y/E/C eyes finding his honey-brown ones in a flash. “What?! No, why?!” Nanami’s large hand cupped your face.

“Because I find myself wanting more. I want you, Y/N, I want all of you.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

The confession, the anger, all of that collided together in a heated kiss. You both made quick work; you unbuckled his belt, and he slid your dress up past your hips, moving your panties to the side. When you were in a moment like this, you moved in sync. There were no fumbling or awkward movements. Just perfect flowing movements, much like dancers or ice skaters who had been perfecting their art for decades. That was the perfect way to describe how you and Nanami moved together.

Your back was against the cold stall, legs wrapped around Nanami’s hips as he fucked you. His cock slid in and out of you like it had done hundreds of times before, finding a rhythm he knew the two of you enjoyed. That was one of the many joys of fucking your best friend. Everything was easy and comfortable.

“Nanami, fuck your cock is so big.”

”Yeah? Your pussy is tight; it’s like they were made for each other.”

You couldn’t help but giggle, moaning in surprise as his hips snapped forward. “It’s like a puzzle.” Your words were meant to be a joke, based on what he said. But they meant the world to Nanami.

”Yes, you’re right.” His lips found yours, nipping at your lips. “That’s exactly what you are to me, Y/N.” His hips moved harder, the stall creaking under the force as you yelped out in pained pleasure. The tip of his cock hitting your cervix with each powerful thrust.

”W-What am I to you?” Nanami mewled as your fingers ran through his hair before rubbing against his undercut. “Tell me.” Your voice was caught in a moan as one of his hands reached down, rubbing your clit. “N-Nana, fuck, fuck yes.”

”You’re my other half, my missing piece.” He growled against your skin, his hot tongue licking at your pulse. “You’re my favorite person.” He chuckled, teeth grazing your skin. “And I want to be with you.”

You were hearing the words you had been wanting to hear for years sent you into orgasmic bliss. You screamed, pussy clamping down on Nanami, milking him as he grunted against your skin. His hips slammed against you, his hot cum filling you to the brim until his cock had gone soft. He kept you pinned against the stall, breathing heavily against your flushed skin before he felt your hands lazily play with his hair again.

When he pulled back to meet your gaze, he swore his heart skipped a beat. You were smiling so softly, with an expression he’d never seen. A mixture of satisfaction and happiness. It had butterflies, butterflies of all things swarming around the pit of his stomach. He can’t stop leaning in, kissing you the softest he’s ever kissed.

”So,” you whispered against his lips, “does this mean you’ll finally stay the night with me?”

Nanami shakes his head with a chuckle as the two of you readjust your clothes and straighten your hair. “I’ll do you one better. I’ll stay the night, and then I’ll take you on a proper date tomorrow.” He gently takes your hand, his thumb brushing against your knuckles. “How does that sound, Y/N?” You didn’t even need to respond for Nanami to know your answer. The wide grin and sparkle in the blue lights of the bathroom said it all.

”Sounds like a dream come true!”

Geto Suguru:

You looked at the clock with a groan, digging through your closet. You were going to be late for your date Shoko had set up. Your stupid cardigan had gone missing again. It was the only one you had, seeing as the other was on your desk chair at work. You couldn’t just go out in the early spring evening without a sweater! It was too hot for long sleeves and hoodies.

Lucky for you, Geto Suguru, your roommate's best friend, and your FWB had a sweater. One he was not currently using. You hurried out of your room, searching for the dark-haired man. He was in the living room, looking through the books, when he heard your heels clicking over the floor.

”Hey, do you still have that book I let you borr-“ Suguru choked on his words when he turned to look down at you. You were in a tight black lace bra, a push-up one that made your breasts look plumper than usual. The matching thong barely covered your pussy, leaving little to the imagination. “What the hell are you doing?!” Suguru barked out, head whirling for any peering eyes that might not be his own.

”Relax, Satoru has seen me naked before.” Seeing Suguru’s eyebrows ccock up, you shook your head. “Chill out. I forgot to lock the bathroom door. I haven't slept with him.” Your eyes did a glance over the living room, pouting when you couldn’t find your sweater still. “Could I borrow your sweater? I can’t find mine, and I would rather not freeze tonight.”

Relieved to know Satoru had only seen you naked by accident, Suguru shrugged out of his black sweater, promptly handing it to you. “Where are you going? Book club, drinks with the girls?” You answered with a shake of your head, heading back to the bedroom.

”Nope, I got a date.”

Before you could take another step, Suguru held your wrist. You turned your head, looking at him from over your shoulder. His dark eyes were wide, gaze locked on yours. It was shocking to see him so stunned. He was usually calm and collected.

You turned around, looking him over, trying to pinpoint the source of his shock. While your Y/E/C eyes searched over him, his hands ran up your arms, gently holding you. This was a side of him you never saw, so gentle and unsure.

“Date? What do you mean you have a date?”

“Oh, yeah, Shoko set it up for me.” Suguru clenched his teeth, his eyes now roamed over your body. He was taking in the curves and dips of your skin. Every part he had caressed and kissed. “She said it was time for me to get back on the playing field.”

Shaking his head, Suguru gently ran his hands up to your shoulders. “Why? You have me. Don't I satisfy your needs?” You laughed, cocking an eyebrow up at him. “Why are you looking at me like that, Y/N? I'm being serious!” His frustration only made you giggle more as you shook your head in disbelief.

“Suguru, you told me that you didn't want a relationship. That what we had was just sex. Someone we could turn to when we were horny, no strings attached.”

“I know I said that.”

“Then why are you being so weird about me going out on a date?”

Yeah, why was the thought of you going out with someone else making his stomach do cartwheels? You both agreed to hook up whenever you wanted. But just because you fucked, didn't mean you were his girlfriend. He had specified that part himself.

The no-strings-attached policy was just something he had said in the spur of the moment. He had so many thoughts running through his mind as the two of you made out. Would Satoru be mad at him for sleeping with his roommate? Would it make things awkward for the two of you when he came over? In the heat of the moment, three months ago, that was the most reasonable thing he thought to say.

”Because I want to be the only person you date.” His words were confident and to the point. Not leaving any thoughts of doubt behind.

You were still left staring at him in utter confusion. “But you said no strings attached!?” Your brain was beginning to hurt with the back-and-forth banter.

“Ugh!” He released you, throwing his head back. “I know I said that and trust me, I wish I could take back that singular sentence. I was thinking about all the ifs and ands when I should have been focusing on the cold, hard truth.” He began pacing, his eyes glued to the floor as he continued to rant. “The truth is, I like you. I’ve liked you for the last year, but I didn’t want to make you feel weird or have Satoru pissed off that I slept with you.”

“Suguru.”

“But sleeping with you made me like you even more! I just fuck; I regret saying that because I don’t want to be friends with benefits anymore. I want to be the one taking you out on dates! I want to be the only guy in your bed and vice versa. After we hooked up, I deleted all the dating apps, and I just.” He huffed out a sigh, turning to look at you. “I want you.”

Fuck, he shouldn’t have ranted like that. But what else could he have done? He had to get it off his chest before you went on your date. At least let you know how he felt before you went out with someone else. The ball was in your court now. That might be the most terrifying part of this whole mess he found himself in.

His dark eyes were glued to the floor as he listened to your heels clicking as you stood before him. Bracing himself for rejection or anything else, Suguru looked up, meeting your flushed face and a wide smile. Seeing you like that had him stepping forward, closing the distance between you.

”You deleted all of your dating apps after the first time we hooked up?” He nodded his head. “In the last three months, you haven’t been with anyone but me?’ Another nod. “You want to be with me?”

”Yes! I want that more than anything.”

You threw your arms around him, kissing him deeply as he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling tight against him. Your kiss held as much truth as his words had. It was feverish, deep, and full of passion. You were conveying the truth of your feelings for him without using words.

By the time you managed to pull yourself away, both of you were panting heavily. “Let me cancel this date, then maybe we could go out.” You breathed out between gasps. “I’m happy to have a boyfriend now, but I was sort of looking forward to getting eaten out tonight.” As your message went through, Suguru had you in his arms, tossing your phone on the couch.

Suguru had your back pinned against the wall, legs over his shoulders, as his hands held your ass. You gripped the wall as best as you could, heart racing from being so high off the ground as Suguru licked and sucked at your clit through your lace panties. He lapped and sucked at you like a man dying of thirst. His feral actions had you grabbing his smooth, dark hair, pulling it as you rocked against his face.

Suguru hummed, glancing at you before prodding your dripping entrance with his tongue. As he did, his heart almost stopped. His tongue had slid through a tiny opening in the center, meeting your dripping cunt. Eyes shot to your face, seeing the smirk tugging at your kiss-swollen lips.

“Never heard of crotchless panties, Sugu?”

There was no snarky remark or comeback. Just his tongue burying itself deep inside of you. You cried out, eyes shutting tight as he brushed his nose over your clit, shaking his head back and forth. You felt dizzy as his tongue swirled inside of you, lapping and rubbing against your inner walls.

Suguru was so skilled at using his mouth. His tongue mapped out every part of your pussy and entrance. The man loved to eat you out and make you feel so good. If his girlfriend wanted to get her pussy eaten, by god, she would. He'd make sure you’d never be left unsatisfied. If it took hours to make you cum on his tongue, then he'd take those hours, not stopping until you came, coating his face with your essence.

He was so worked up, just thinking about eating you out, making you feel good, that he groaned as you tugged hard on his hair. Little moans of ‘Suguru’ and ‘im cumming’ was all he could register before you were squirting all over his face. He shut his eyes as your juices coated his lips, tongue, and chin. His tongue kept moving until you were begging him to stop.

“Was that to your liking?” He asked gently, lowering you to the ground. “Satisfied? Or do you n-nngh!” His words were caught in his throat, eyes darting down to where you had his cock in a vice grip.

“Shut the fuck up and come fuck your girlfriend into the mattress.” Suguru didn't need you to tell him twice, especially when you called yourself his girlfriend.

Toji Fushiguro:

“This is me.” You nervously laughed as your creepy Tinder date eyed the building you didn't live in. “Thanks for the date, it was fun.” Yeah, it was a lot of fun getting felt up and paying for the dinner he told you he would buy, but he just so happened to forget his wallet.

“You don't want to invite me up?” the creepy guy asked as you hit the buzzer three times. “I thought you might want some dessert. I have a great cream filling for you to try.”

“No, I'm good.”

“Don't be a bitch; come on, let me in.”

“I said I’m good!”

“Stupid fuc—”

The door to the apartment complex swung open, and a firm hand grabbed you, pulling you inside. “She said no, go fuck yourself.” without another word, the door slammed shut. “Fuck, you sure know how to pick them.” you pressed your face into your FWB’s chest, his hand rubbing your back soothingly.

“Holy fuck, that was super scary thanks Toji.” Your hands gripped his shirt, holding yourself upright as he sighed.

“Why do you put yourself through this?” Toji asked, leading you to the elevator. “Honestly, you should know better than to go out with creeps like that one.”

You rolled your eyes, stepping onto the elevator with him. “I just want to find my person.” Those words had Toji glaring down at you. “Not all of us can be satisfied with random hookups with friends.” The elevator opened on the third floor, and you stepped out.

“Random hookups?” His tone was dry. “You think that's what this is between us?”

“You're really to look at me and tell me they aren't?” He grabbed your attention arm, glaring down at you. “This is just to blow off steam, right?”

You and Toji had slept together on multiple occasions. After a long week of work, a bad day when you were feeling down. He was always the one you went to when you needed to vent, have a good laugh, or have sex. Toji was your friend, and you loved him, but he didn't love you the same way. He was a single dad, taking care of his son Megumi. He didn't have time to date and all that other stuff. Once in a while, a good fuck with you was enough to fulfill his needs.

So when your best friend dragged you into his apartment and slammed the door behind him, you swallowed the lump forming in your throat. His eyes were dark and narrow with frustration and anger. A look you rarely saw directed towards you. You felt so small under his gaze it had you stepping back., the back of your knees hitting the couch.

“Do you honestly think I would hook up with you to blow off steam? You’re the same woman I have over for dinner, the woman I sleep with, the only other person I trust with Megumi!” His anger was palpable as you crawled onto the couch, your eyes never leaving his as he followed you. “I didn't put a label on this,” his hand motioned between you, “you did!”

“So what are you saying?!”

“I'm saying you're the only one going on stupid dates! I'm not! If you want more, say it! You're a grown-ass adult. You can do what you want, Y/N! And so can I!” He crawled on top of you. “So, for once in your life, can you please be honest?!”

You felt your nose and eyes burning with tears. Was he saying what you thought he was? That he wanted to be more, but you were holding back? Had you been the one keeping the FWB label on your relationship?

The longer you stare into his dark eyes, the more your face softens. Toji was always the one you ran to after a stupid Tinder date. He was the only person you slept with, the only man you wanted to be with, and Megumi, god, you lived that kid like he was your son. You couldn't find your person through random people because you already found him.

Your person was Toji.

Your hands gently reached up, cupping his face. “You want me?” Your voice was shaky and hesitant, scared to hear his answer.

“Of fuckin’ course I want you, Y/N.” he turned towards your hand, kissing your palm. “You idiot, it took you that long to see it?”

“You could have said something.” Your teasing tone was cut off by his hands working on your leggings. “Toji, wait, what are you doing? Megumi’s in the other room.”

Toji didn't respond to you; he just tugged his sweats down, tucking the band of them under his balls. “I’m not good with words. So I’ll show you how much I want you.” He rubbed his cock up and down over your folds before slowly pressing into you.

Soft moans and whines escaped you both as Toji slowly began to fuck you inside the couch. His hand grabbed at your hips, breasts, and thighs. Touching you everywhere he could as his cock pressed in and out of you, fucking you deeper and harder with each thrust of his hips. Toji pressed hot kisses against your lips. Each kiss, touch, and thrust told you everything you needed to know.

“I love you.” You cried out without thinking as he pressed into your g-spot. The sudden outburst had Toji freezing above you, hips pausing mid-thrust. Sweat slowly dripped down his temple as his mind replayed your words.

“What was that?”

“I said I love you.”

Toji’s eyes widened in surprise as he felt something unlock inside him. Whether it was his heart or sick throbbed inside of you, he couldn't tell. “Fuck,” he whispered, eyes drifting down your body. “Fuck.” Toji pulled all the way out before slamming hard into you. “Fuck!!” He growled, slamming into you harder and deeper with each thrust. “Love you too, fuck, I love you.”

Your eyes rolled back as you felt yourself drawing closer and closer to your orgasm. Toji reached over you, grabbing the arm of the couch for support as he drilled into you. Holy fuck, this was intense, so fucking intense. Your moans grew louder before he clamped his other hand over your mouth.

“As much as I love you screaming my name, I would rather not have my kid catching us. So be a good girl and cum.” His raspy command and slamming into your g-spot was all you needed. You screamed into his hand, trembling under him as he gritted his teeth. “Cummin’ take it all, Y/N~!”

As the waves of pleasure died, Toji removed his hand, smiling at you. You returned his grin, kissing him softly. “Fuck, that was so good.” Toji chuckled, shifting so you both were lying on the couch.

“Y/N, everything is good when it comes to you.”

2K notes · View notes

reidmotif · 8 days ago

Text

I’ve Got My Eye On You

Summary: Reader is a Special Surveillance agent assigned to spy on Spencer. He manages to see through her cover, and thoroughly enjoys the confrontation that follows.

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Category: Smut

Content Warning: voyeurism, oral (f!receiving), unprotected penetrative sex, f!masturbation, slight dubcon regarding recorded sex, heavily based on that one scene in scandal, iykyk.

Word Count: 3.5k

Masterlist

I’d always been good at watching people.

My life had been spent mostly to myself, divulging the information people offered without even realizing. When you talk less, you learn that body language, passing remarks, or even the quirk of an eyebrow gives away more than anyone ever realized– maybe more than an actual conversation at times.

And I took it all in stride, not a single detail left unanalyzed. People were always surprised when I’d mention my observations, finding a way to explain a seemingly unexplainable situation, those around me wondering how on Earth I could’ve been privy to that. I’d always shrug at their queries.

Pay more attention, I guess.

It wasn’t a surprise that I’d ended up here, I suppose, in the end, as an Investigative Specialist for the FBI. I doubt that my listening skills were exactly what landed me the job, but I’d like to believe they contributed more than they actually did. Regardless, I’d never expected the result of the decisions I’d made over the years to lead to this– involved in spying on an agent of our own.

The infamous "Dr Reid".

His specific circumstances had been shrouded in secrecy and mystery, apparently having just been let out of prison. (Prison? How’s he an agent then? Anyway, not my problem).

The Bureau had been curious about erratic behavior on his part, and the string of discrepancies involving the unit he was involved in. Apparently, there had been multiple unforeseen and unprecedented events all occurring under the same team in a relatively small time-frame, and despite smaller investigations, nothing came out of them to warrant any real disciplinary action. Probably why they brought me in, in the hopes of changing that.

I’d been assigned to put up small, virtually undetectable cameras and listening devices within his apartment. 24/7 home surveillance, no exceptions. I couldn’t help but think that the guy really should invest in better apartment security, despite how easy his naivete made my job. His lack of caution surprised me, given the details I’d been given. For a guy who had a penchant for being framed by the ghosts of his past, he sure didn’t live like it. Even as an FBI agent, he essentially had no technology to counter my own, and the height of his protection was a standard deadbolt. Was he insane? Unaware, somehow? Only time would tell, I suppose. And I had plenty of that, to watch and deduce the nature of his mind on my own terms.

My time spent with Spencer resulted in one, overwhelming conclusion. Spencer Reid lived a relatively quiet life. His apartment was barely used, honestly, given the sporadic nature of his job. (Which was a shame, in my opinion, because it’s a nice apartment). When he was at home, he seemed to remain quite unassuming. The positions I’d see him assume often were that of being hunched over on an aging leather sofa, pouring himself into grading papers, or creating lesson plans for his students. Oh, right. Did I mention he was also a professor? He is. I’d assume he likes the job, given how much of himself he gives into it, or maybe that was just who he was as a person. I wasn’t sure yet.

I monitored his life outside of the apartment occasionally as well, just to see what intel I could gather with further investigation. There wasn’t much. Coffee shops. Book shops. Coffee. Books. Coffee- God, does the guy do anything else with his life?

Most days, though, I’d liken him to butter spread too thinly over toast. Sleepless from nightmares that would have him walking around his apartment until daylight broke through the window panes. I felt exhausted just watching the guy, and it seemed insane that he could continue to live on when he left that apartment at the break of dawn. It didn’t seem like he had anyone to talk to, honestly. From what I was seeing, he wasn’t a threat to the Bureau, just a sad, middle-aged man who’d been dealt the most unfair of hands in life.

I’m sure there’s a moral somewhere in all that. To waste your potential on something that gives so little back. Oh, well. My report was nearly finished at this point, and the most I could recommend the higher-ups was to get Spencer a better therapist, maybe. This one wasn’t really helping, it seemed. Besides that, his personal behavior wasn’t indicative of anything worrying to the interests of those managing him.

At long last, it was my final night of watching him. Coincidentally, the date lined up with Halloween, and I couldn’t be more thrilled to finally be free of this specific survey job. Don’t get me wrong, Spencer seemed nice- but God, his life was boring. I don’t want to say it was like watching paint dry, out of respect, but previous targets had offered at least some part of their life to be interested within. Spencer had nothing. No friends over, no gossip-like phone conversations, no drunk wanderings home. Nothing! I know he didn’t sign up to be watched, but God.

Like, come on. Give me anything here.

Needless to say, I’d become accustomed to the quiet, and this night was no different. If he was following schedule, he should be home right about … now.

Now?

Now…

Silence.

Spencer was definitely a creature of habit, so to not see him adhere to the routine he’d so meticulously stuck to in the past was a bit jarring, but I assumed he was just running late.

A few hours later, I reasoned he must be running really really late. It was bordering on midnight, and he still wasn’t home. I checked train schedules, possible reports of a car crash, just about anything that could keep him from his scheduled appearance at home.

I was just about to call my supervisor to look into whether or not he’d been called out on a surprise case, but that’s when the door of his apartment creaked open, and I felt my shoulders deflate in relief. Okay, he was home. He was going to go to bed and-

He wasn’t alone.

Spencer was dressed in all black, a leather belt adorned with a gold belt buckle being the only color his outfit brought. He wore tiny devil’s ears upon his head, the headband pushing down on the mop of curls that sat atop his head. He looked absolutely delicious, if I must say myself, and it seemed the woman in his arms would agree with me.

He practically pulled her into his apartment, kicking his door in with his leg before slightly fumbling with the lock. As soon as the mechanism slipped into place, his hands were all over her, pressing her flush against his body, as if he couldn’t bear to have any space between them.

For all the time I’d been watching him, none of his behavior indicated the presence of any kind of significant other, so this girl must be a stranger. If this is how Spencer treated strangers though, I was surprised he didn’t have a barrage of women lining up at his door every night.

His lips absolutely devoured the girl, his hand cradling the side of her face, before his thigh slipped in between her legs, possibly to soothe a building ache that had built up there in the time they’d spent together, which I found entirely possible, considering I, personally, was heated from simply watching.

I watched the pixels on the screen with such precision, innocuous shades of red, green and blue painting the most sinful of images. I found myself noting the way his hand snuck up the girls’ dress, the way her breathing hitched as she pulled back, watching as Spencer presumably played with her clit. I could feel myself squeezing my thighs together, recognizing just how wrong it was to be turned on by the scene in front of me, but I couldn’t stop myself. It wasn’t as if this was the first time a target had behaved sexually in front of me. (Or in front of the camera, I suppose.) I’d seen and heard just about anything you could think of, but this was different- in a way. To see Spencer so filthy, so confident, so- interesting. It lit a fire in me that burned with every passing moment he touched this girl.

I’m able to watch him circle over her panties in a way that has her groaning directly into his ear, a smug grin plastering his face as he watches her every reaction.

“Like that?” He murmurs, and I’ve never heard his voice so fucking deep.

She nods frantically, and it only serves to widen his grin. I can feel myself rocking slightly in my own chair, doing anything to try and soothe the fast growing arousal within me, unable to stop from imagining myself in her place. His hands, the feel of hot breath down my neck-

I’m stopped dead in my tracks, however, when his eyes suddenly shift to the camera closest to him, his eyebrow raising, as if in challenge. He continues to whisper in the girl’s ear, and has the galls to wink. I’m horrified, a very sudden and intense heat rising to my cheeks. I can only watch for a second more, before he’s suddenly pulling her away, and I realize he’s taken her within one of the only blind spots within the apartment.

I’m scrambling to turn off the feed, stunned into silence whilst, my heart beating uncontrollably and eccentrically. Oh god. He knew. He knew and he did that?!

I stare into the empty space, a multitude of thoughts inhabiting my brainscape. On one hand, the aplomb shown in that situation was commendable, since most people would react to the knowledge that they’d been secretly watched in their own home for the past few months in a much more hostile way. On the other hand, how did he even acquire that knowledge? The cameras were virtually undetectable, and he’d never let on that he was aware of their presence, and I’d know, considering how closely I’d watched him.

I shake off the thoughts, focusing on something other than the overwhelming mortification coursing through me now.

Alright, tomorrow, get into his apartment, remove the cameras, and hopefully never have to look at the man again. In any capacity, honestly.

When daylight broke, I turned on the cameras for the final time, a bit more sheepish, knowing he was aware of the devices plaguing his home. However, it seemed like he was once again pretending like he wasn’t aware of the looming existence of them, sending his female companion off her merry way once they woke up, before going about his normal routine, heading out of the apartment for what was most likely his morning coffee and then afternoon lecture at the university.

That was my cue. I turned off the cameras, quickly making my way out to sneak into his residence, the heavy door offering little resistance to my advances, my movements quiet and undetectable.

I’m in the process of removing the final camera I had placed in his bedroom, hidden behind a copy of The Sign of Four. Doyle. He had good taste, I could give him that.

I’m just about to turn around and get the hell out of there, when I hear a voice behind me.

“I noticed that one first, you know.”

I turn around slowly, embarrassed and slightly fearful to find Spencer’s eyes meeting mine. I’d watched him for so long, but seeing him now– his eyes were so beautiful. The camera didn’t do him justice.

He continues, despite the silence. “The other ones were harder to spot, I’ll give you that, but once I knew where they were, it was a bit obvious, don’t you think?”

I’m speechless. My mouth is agape, and all he seems to do is smile at my lack of prose.

“Don’t look so surprised. I know this apartment. I’m not here a lot, but I spend enough time to know when things have been shifted around.” His tone is cheeky, and he pauses, almost theatrically to add on:

“I’m sure you knew that though.” His smile turns into more of a smirk.

God, did he have to be so hot?

“Are you going to complain to the Bureau?” I manage out, keeping my eyes steady on him.

“Did you find anything of note to tell them?” He responds, tilting his head with curiosity.

I shake my head vehemently. “No, um. Nothing pertinent to say.” I get my words out in a hurry, my gaze continually trained on him.

He meets my eyes with the same stare. “Then I don’t have much of a reason to complain.”

I nod solemnly. I’m wondering where this situation will lead- what either of our next moves are. Before I can ponder long though, he surprises me and takes a step closer.

“I saw you, you know.” He says. “Thought I was going insane when the same pretty girl kept showing up at the bookstore and coffee shop out of the blue, but I’ve never been one to believe in coincidences.”

“Oh.” I whisper. I really wasn’t as good as I thought I was.

“You really shouldn’t beat yourself up.” He says, chuckling with some mirth. “Again, I’m observant. I notice these things. That, and you’re pretty.” He says, forward. “So, more of a reason to notice.”

“Oh.” I reply, yet again, dumbfounded by the events currently transpiring.

“Yes, oh.” He chuckles, before he starts to move closer yet again. “Tell me. Were you watching last night?” He murmurs, his voice dropping a bit deeper as he directly addresses the elephant in the room.

I give a movement of affirmation, because at this point, what could he do? What could I do?

“So you saw.” He mumbles, moving to position himself right in front of me, his eyes darkened and laser focused on my figure.

“Yes.” I whisper, my voice hushed as our proximity decreased, his breath fanning out over my face now. I’d be uncomfortable, if I wasn’t so distracted.

“Tell me.” He whispers, letting his calloused finger finally touch my skin, running down my neck. “Did it turn you on? Watching me with her?”

I feel the familiar heat of embarrassment rise to my cheeks, my eyes suddenly widening not only due to the sudden proximity, but also the scandalous nature of his words. Did he mean for me to watch? Was that his plan all along? What was this sick and twisted game he was playing?

“Did it.. get you off?” He whispers, his lips leaning in to kiss lightly at the side of my neck where his finger once was.

I freeze, leaning into his touch and going statue-like all at once. I can’t help the shakiness of my voice when I reply. “I.. wasn’t neutral.”

“Mm.” He murmurs, kissing now at my jawline. “Did you get off? When she did?” He whispers.

“I didn’t watch that long.” I reply, helplessly, as I feel his hands start to envelop my waist, pulling me closer to him.

“What a shame.” He mumbles. “I think you would’ve liked the show. I did it for you.”

At this point, I can barely speak, a slight moan escaping me instead of a coherent reply as his lips continue to leave warm, wet kisses on the expanse of my flesh.

“I’m sure you’re curious.” He says, his voice soft and seductive. “Would you like me to show you what we did?”

There’s no hesitation, finally, a resounding thought I can translate from brain-to-mouth for him, in complete certainty.

“Yes.” I manage out, breathlessly.

He makes a noise of satisfaction, quickly pushing me onto the bed.

“I’d already gotten her wet by touching her before, but if my suspicions are correct.” He murmurs, his hands working deftly to undo my jeans and feel the wetness that had accumulated in between my thighs. “You already are.” He finishes.

I let out a small whimper as his fingers touch the heated flesh, unable to help my sensitivity to his small, calculated strokes over my clit through my underwear. His fingers starts to move a bit more aggressively, upon feeling the wet patch that had formed there, the flimsy fabric doing little to hide the stickiness he was now collecting on his fingers. He quickly pulls them off as well though, bringing his slightly damp fingers to his mouth, tasting the hint of my arousal that had accumulated there. His eyes were dark, watching my face for any reaction, and in that moment, I know all he can see is pure want.

I can see the same hunger within his eyes, and I feel a rush of pride as the approval radiates off of him.

“What next?” I whisper, already desperate for his next slew of ministrations. I don’t care how needy I looked. I was needy. I’d spent so long watching him, and now he was here.

“She wanted my mouth.” He murmurs, kneeling at the edge of the bed. His thumb brushes over my clit, his tongue running against plump, pink lips, wetting them, watching over me with a predatory gaze.

Before I can respond, he’s suddenly everywhere, ducking his head and allowing his tongue to brush over my sex in broad, wet strokes. My response is immediate, my hips bucking up to meet him in a frenzied motion. It seems that he relishes in whatever control he can have in this situation, because he quickly holds down my hips in a firm grip, squeezing the fat there while he continued to ravage me.

I can barely look at him, pretty brown locks splayed in his face, his lips moving hypnotically against my cunt. Little whimpers escape me, absolutely aching for more. He seems to catch on, and flicks his tongue over me, before suckling against my clit. It’s wet, messy, and the picture of debauchery– and it’s enough to drive me over the edge, my hands gripping the sheets as I cry out his name.

He seems to be unaffected, getting off his knees, his mouth glistening with my release. The sight makes me wish he could do it again, but before I can get a word in, he’s positioning himself over me, caging me against the bed.

“Then I fucked her.” He whispers, starting to undo his belt with his free hand. “Can I?”

I nod, feeling a wave of anticipation, before registering the sensation of the head of his cock nudging my entrance. I feel my chest tighten, watching him with bated breath, absolutely exhilarated.

“Relax.” He whispers, kissing the lobe of my ear. “You’re in good hands.”

He utters the last word, before sliding into me, a hushed gasp leaving the both of us. He groans in pleasure, his eyes fluttering shut as he takes in the feel of my warm, wet cunt around him. He takes a moment, before he’s setting a steady pace, his hips bucking rhythmically into me in a way that’s designed to bring us both so much pleasure.

I can’t help the string of moans that come out with every slide of his cock inside me, my legs wrapping around his waist, urging him closer than he already is. My hands grip onto his shirt, clawing onto the fabric to find any purchase, wanting– no, needing him on me.

Is it odd to wish a stranger could crawl into your skin itself?

“Fuck, Spencer.” I moan, unabashedly. “You feel so good.”

“You do too.” He groans, his arms braced on either side of my head before gently lowering himself to crash his lips against mine in a messy kiss.

I can feel myself barreling towards release, as is he, if the twitch of his cock inside me were to mean anything. It’s not long before his hand reaches in between where our bodies are met, rubbing my clit in fast, small circles. It’s intense in the best way possible, my body barely being able to process how good it felt in the moment.

“Come for me.” He moans, in between kisses. “Wanna feel you around me. Please.”

I can’t help but obey his words, my cunt convulsing around him in obedience as he subsequently finds his release inside me, groaning loudly as his hips thrust erratically.

He pulls out, and we’re a tangle of limbs, sweaty and sated, breathing heavy.

Of course, it’s him, yet again, to break the silence.

“Two things.” He mumbles, breathlessly.

“Mm.” I reply, weakly, my head a mess of airiness and complacency after the orgasm he’d just brought me to.

“One. I want your name.” He says, rolling to his side to get a better look at my face.

“That can be arranged.” I murmur, nodding dreamily.

“Second.” He whispers, kissing my cheek. His voice takes on a teasing quality to it, before leaning to brush his lips against my ear.

“You missed a camera. Behind the plant. They don’t stop recording, do they?”

okay wowww. clearly this was meant for halloween, if you couldn't tell! this is one of those pieces where i'm like.. hmm .. do i like this? question mark? do i want to put it out? hmm .. but regardless, i hope you guys enjoyed it!! please, please like, reblog, and comment if you enjoyed!!! it is sooo important as an author that i get some feedback and know what you guys think, in any capacity. i truly appreciate all of it <33 thank you for reading, thank you for everything!!!

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ahundredtimesover · 8 months ago

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I Want You to Stay (09) | JJK

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader

Genre/Tags: boss!JK x assistant!reader; idiot strangers to lovers; slow slow burn; k-drama feels; angst, drama, fluff, smut

Chapter (Series) Warnings: foul/explicit language; alcohol consumption & passing out, unhealthy coping mechanisms; family drama; minor injuries; power dynamics (JK starts off as a jerk); work-related anxiety, feelings of helplessness, insecurities; childhood traumatic experiences, nightmares; sexual harassment, attempted assault; use of the term slut in a derogatory way, prior incidence of domestic violence (PLS PLS BE CAREFUL WHEN READING); arts and business/property devt talk that’s probably inaccurate; commitment issues & emotionally constipated characters; cold and detached JK; eventual explicit sexual content (specific warnings stated per chapter) (18+)

Chapter Word count: 18.4k

Series Masterlist

Status: Ongoing

Series summary: Working for Jungkook isn’t the same as working for Hoseok. For starters, Jungkook doesn’t smile, he doesn’t appreciate you, and he gives you too much work. It doesn’t help that he’s incredibly handsome and has women at his beck and call. But as the tension grows, it becomes impossible to resist him. You’ve dedicated yourself to your job for 8 years so when you finally decide to put yourself first, he asks you to reconsider. And while you know that leaving is difficult, you learn that when it comes to Jungkook, staying is always so much harder.

Playlist 🎶: on the way home

A/N: Hiii thank you for being patient, and again for all your love and appreciation for this story. 🥰 Updates will continue to take longer as I return to uni. On another note, I hope you enjoy this!

And as always, my biggest thanks to @wonwoonlight 🥰

PS. If I can’t tag you, pls fix your settings!

Seeing you standing in his kitchen donned in that pastel-colored blouse makes Jungkook stop in his tracks; you’re exactly who he needs to wake him up.

It’s been weeks of vacation, which also means weeks without his usual routine. It’s striking how being absorbed in his work has altered him in that sense - he looks for the stress, for the long hours, for the isolation that’s demanded of his job. Perhaps there was just really nothing to look forward to, and work was an excuse for all those things because there wasn’t much else going for him. Ironic, considering everything he can do with what he has, yet nothing seems to be what he’s looking for, even if deep down, he knows what it is.

This is something that Hoseok and A-yeong made him realize during the trip as he watched them gush about the pretty streets and marvel at the fjords and immerse themselves in the view of the northern lights.

His cousin, the President of the company who makes decisive decisions and conducts press conferences and signs off on billion won projects, is the same man who squealed during a husky ride in Finland, laughed his butt off when he slipped on a glacier, and muttered words of love to his wife as they all watched the bright evening sky over the lake in Norway. There was so much passion in him, something A-yeong mirrored, whether it was about work or his relationships or just about everything in life. Hoseok looked forward to that trip, to that time with his wife, to that break, to seeing the scenery and feeling peace.

While Jungkook found himself constantly thinking about the Arts Center and upcoming projects and new design ideas… and the one person who connected him to all those - you. It felt like he was rushing towards something because the achievement was the goal, and while he stopped by the mountains and marveled at the water as he sat on the cliffs, his mind was racing, chasing something that he couldn’t even grasp.

That’s how the past six years have been. Perhaps more, he thinks. Maybe 20. He’s never allowed himself to just be. Quite frankly, he doesn’t know who he is outside of what he does; he doesn’t know much of how he is outside of being an executive and heir, and so during the moments when he isn’t functioning as such, he’s a bit lost, just existing in a place he’s visiting, not knowing how to interact, how to breathe; not knowing how to connect or to be free.

You’re the bright spot amidst it all. With you around, he still seems to be wandering while stuck in a certain spot, but he’s not alone because you’re there. With you around, there’s a sense of calmness somehow, with your smile and your presence warming the coldest parts of him that he’s left untouched and unfeeling for years.

So when he walks towards you, his eyes fully opening now to see you better, he hums in satisfaction.

“It’s nice to see you again,” he says, prompting you to turn around. “It feels like it’s been so long.”

“Really, Mr. Jeon? I thought the three weeks felt fast,” you giggle. “But it’s nice to see you, too. Were you able to rest out there?”

“Somehow,” he replies, taking the glass of water you give him.

“Is that why you passed on your morning workout to sleep in?” You raise an eyebrow, thinking that he’d slept in when you walked into his penthouse earlier without the usual sounds from the gym that you’d gotten used to.

“I was pretty jet lagged,” he groans. “Couldn’t sleep so I did it last night to tire myself out and then I finally fell asleep three hours ago. It’s a miracle I woke up after the tenth snooze of my alarm.”

“Ooh, that is not good, considering all the documents on your desks and messages on your inbox,” you shake your head. “What if I move the team meeting to tomorrow so you don’t push yourself too hard today? You could’ve taken the day off.”

“And have a worse day tomorrow? No thanks,” he chuckles. “I’m fine, but I agree with moving the meeting.”

“Just take it slow,” you advise. “I brought some pastries because I know your fridge and pantry are empty. I’ll get them ready shortly.”

“I’ll wash up then.”

You follow not long after, preparing his outfits for the second half of the week, then setting out the breakfast for both of you. He returns to the kitchen wearing the brown suit you chose for today, looking just as handsome as you remember. You fix his tie like you always do and meet his eyes like it’s reflex, the warmth bubbling within you when he returns your soft smile. You take your seat a chair away, taking your iPad after to start going through updates when he stops you.

“Not yet, please. My mind’s still half asleep.”

“Okay, sir,” you respond. “We can talk about your trip instead. How was it?”

Jungkook finds himself more engaged in telling you about it, not like how he was when his best friends met him for dinner last night and he was too tired to narrate how it went. But you ask with such excitement that he ends up sharing more than what he planned.

He talks about the Vikings museum and historical tours, the bike rides and coastal walks, the calm but lively cities and the breathtaking waterfalls. He even mentions the things he’d only kept to himself - like that one evening when the sky looked like one of Lee Jaemin’s paintings that had him staying at the balcony with a glass of wine while basking in its beauty, and when they were in Hans Christian Andersen’s hometown and he wondered what kind of fairytale character he would be, and that he learned he really enjoys hot springs during the winter. They’re random thoughts that he just ended up saying, somehow feeling natural and comfortable in sharing them with you.

You indulge him, asking more and sharing your thoughts, too. You even throw in the occasional teasing remark and playful laughter. You ask about the scenery, expressing your yearning for the outdoors that you said you never really appreciated before, as the open space always overwhelmed you.

He passes you his iPad where he’s opened the folder of the photos that he took with his camera, a gift from Taehyung who’d said that Jungkook needed to go out more and “feel the sun.” He rarely used it but a Northern Europe trip seemed like the perfect excuse. He’s used to assessing interiors and marveling at structures from afar, but this time he got to appreciate what lies beyond his walls, beyond the little world he’s been burrowing himself in.

“These are stunning, Jungkook,” you gush, dropping the formalities as he shares something that feels so personal. “I didn’t know you had the talent for photography, too.”

“I wouldn’t call it a talent,” he shakes his head. “I took it as an elective during university and it helps with design ideas. I should at least take nice photos if I need inspiration or a basis. I don’t really do it much, though.”

“Did it make you feel good, at least?” You ask, wondering what else gives him satisfaction.

“Somehow. It makes me feel good when I’m looking at the pictures. I’m transported to that day and that place again, like a holder of memories and desire for the good things.”

You go through the photos - dozens of them. He didn’t take too many, just one or two shots of every scenery. Beyond the majestic landscape, there are the everyday scenes - people talking at a cafe, strangers enjoying the park. There’s a couple holding hands, laughing at each other; from the silhouettes, you can tell they’re Hoseok and A-yeong, a moment that Jungkook probably thought too precious to not capture.

Something in you stirs, as the photos elicit a mix of awe and yearning. You look at Jungkook and you think it’s what he felt, too.

There’s a saying you heard about watching what people photograph to learn what they fear losing. With Jungkook, it seems as if these - freedom, tranquility, connection, intimacy - are things he wants; somehow they seem to be what he fears having.

“It’s nice to have a keeper of good memories, isn’t it? Of that reminder that beautiful things exist and that they’re tangible, you know?” You say, returning his gadget.

“It is,” he responds after a beat of silence, seemingly processing your words. “We forget sometimes. Or maybe, we just don’t know what that’s like. In that case it’s like an illusion. But it’s still good to have that, I guess. It’s still something.”

You don’t know what more could be said. It feels too personal or even intimate of a conversation to have with your boss on a Wednesday morning as you eat breakfast in his apartment. So you let it go, smiling as you say you’re glad he got to have some rest.

He says that so does he and then asks about how your holiday was as you both head to the car. You talk about it during the ride, how you spent a week in Wando with your mother’s partner’s family and then drove to Jeonju, how the entirety of your break had you stuffing your face with food and bonding with them, and how they drove you back to Seoul last weekend, thankful that for those two weeks, they had you around.

You don’t tell Jungkook that some days, you’d think of him, wondering how he’s doing. You don’t tell him that you’d seen A-yeong’s posts and that he looked at peace in them, that there was a softness in his eyes that you’ve rarely seen on him. You don’t tell him that despite the vacation that you said you were looking forward to, you were also looking forward to this - having him back, sharing stories, and living in the silence alongside him.

You wonder, as you glance at him looking out the window, if this is what you meant about savoring the moment, enjoying what’s in front of you, and feeling less alone. Because right now, those are exactly what you feel.

Jungkook wanted to wait to get to the office before proceeding to work matters, something that surprises you because he always gets down to business immediately, not unless he’s recovering from a hangover. But he blew you off even in the car, wanting instead to listen to your stories and then doodle on his leather notebook again for the rest of the ride. You end up meeting with him for an hour before he settles in, then he goes to lunch with his father, meets with your team, and then decides to visit the Arts Center mid-afternoon.

Work is back in full-swing just like that, and you pull the energy from within you to manage the crazy week. There are start-of-the-year events to attend and organize, a board report and meeting to prepare for, new projects to initiate, and a major one to monitor.

You’re glad that despite all that, Jungkook allows you to have a four-day off on the succeeding week so you can celebrate your birthday with a road trip down coastal towns with Jimin and Soomin. It’s a silly thing to do in the middle of winter, but they insist that warmth is most satisfying when it’s cold outside, and you don’t disagree. You’ll definitely be sighing in relief when you hold the steaming hot hotteok in between your hands, and it’ll be the best one you’ll have.

It’s Thursday and you’ll be back in a week. You’ve just finished briefing Do-hyun, who’ll be covering for you while you’re away, and you get off your chair to grab tea in the pantry. Jungkook’s voice stops as you, as he stands by his door and asks if you’re already leaving.

“In an hour, Mr. Jeon,” you reply. “Is there anything I can help you with until then?”

“No, nothing,” he says. “I’m actually about to leave for dinner with Taehyung and Seokjin.”

“Oh, alright, sir,” you hum. “Goodbye, then. And I’ll see you next week. Just know that you’re the only one who can disturb me.”

He laughs in response. “Come on, I won’t be badgering you, especially on your birthday. It’s your one week away from me. You have to savor it.”

“So should you,” you counter. “But okay. I will.”

“Good,” he nods. “I’ll just fix up and go ahead then.”

He returns to his room and you’re just the tiniest bit disappointed that he didn’t properly greet you but you suppose that’s good for you. So you go to the pantry and end up chit-chatting with the team, finding yourself smiling when you look up and see Jungkook by the door, who tells everyone not to stay too late before he heads out.

You arrive back at your desk, your heart beating fast at the sight of a small brown bag on your table.

For your trip. Something to help remind you that beautiful things exist and they’re tangible, the note reads. Happy birthday.

Your mind goes to a conversation you had not long ago, about how photos can elicit certain emotions and be a keeper of memories, especially of good ones. You know this is from Jungkook, and you also have an idea of what this might be, which is why you open the package right away.

Still, it catches you by surprise, especially when you find two disposable film cameras inside. They’ll definitely be enough for your upcoming trip and you know the photos will come out amazingly. You’re ecstatic.

Perhaps this is why he wanted to leave before you did - you’d thank him and he’d be terrible at accepting it again, then you’ll call him out for it. Maybe it was good he hadn’t stuck around to see you act this way. At least he didn’t see you with that silly smile on your face.

But Yoongi does as you head down the elevator, smirking at you when he sees the bag you’re holding and the familiar handwriting on the card.

“I’m guessing you’re not fighting it anymore, huh?” He says, teasing yet somehow still comforting.

“I’m trying not to, even if I know I’m being stupid,” you admit. “I can at least have these fleeting moments of joy after I walk away from this.”

“Retain the good memories. That’s one way to let things go,” Yoongi advises, as he exits the carriage on the parking lot floor.

The doors close on your smiling face, and he chuckles to himself at the irony of things. That’s how he learned to let you go, after all.

You return to work the following week with a spring in your step, with Jungkook noticing as you heat up the fried rice that you told him you’d be preparing for breakfast. You hum as you go about in the kitchen, feeling energized after the last few days you’ve had.

It was freezing, but you, Soomin, and Jimin went a little crazy and ran down the beach whenever you drove by one, something you all did as kids living in Busan. The drives from town to town were slow but they had you all singing to your favorite songs, munching on chestnuts and bungeoppang, and stopping over viewing sites for fresh air and photos.

You used Jungkook’s gift a lot, taking pictures of things that elicited strong emotions and good memories - purple and orange skies, snow melting on the pavement, the crashing ocean waves turning white at the tip, an empty playground in the park, Soomin’s infectious laughter, Jimin’s angelic smile.

The cold was an excuse to seek your best friends’ warmth and they took advantage of it. It reminded you of those few years growing up with them before you returned to Daegu for college, something you and Jimin reminisced about, and something that you thanked him for after what seemed like ages. You recalled how he approached you first as the new girl who entered school in the middle of the school year, how he followed you around because you were always alone and was scared of loud noises, and how he’s never left your side since then.

Every night during that trip, he hugged you as you tried to fall asleep, knowing you needed it for the cold you felt inside and out. He was next to you when you talked about Jungkook gifting you the cameras and admitted that it made you feel good, that it made you happy.

“I’m glad he’s showing you kindness,” Jimin had said. “But… just be careful, okay? Your heart is capable of a lot of good things. Pain is the last thing it deserves.”

“I don’t really know what my heart is capable of,” you replied. “My brain does the hurting but my heart… I don’t know what it does. I don’t know how it works.”

It left him speechless then and somehow, you were glad that he just held you tighter, only because it was the only way you wanted to be comforted at that moment. But you also knew that whatever your heart ended up doing or experiencing, Jimin and Soomin would be there to help you make sense of it, to pick up the pieces should they need to.

“It seems as though your birthday rejuvenated you, ___,” Jungkook disrupts your thoughts. “You look much lighter and relaxed.”

“Only because I haven’t checked my emails nor taken new instructions from you,” you laugh as you serve the fried rice in bowls then head towards him. You fix his suit again and speak casually like you’ve gotten used to. “Once I open that iPad and see what I have to deal with, relaxed would be the last thing I’ll be.”

“Fair enough,” he chuckles. “Let me savor this then.”

His words catch you off guard and they prompt you to meet his eyes - soft yet piercing, then he turns shy and turns away from you. Perhaps he’s surprised at what he’d said, too.

“Work is stressful and your calmness rubs off on me most times,” he says nonchalantly. “We’ve got a busy few days ahead and I want that calmness to linger.”

“It will,” you assure him. “And yes, I feel rejuvenated, and that’ll probably last me for days so that will linger, even if I’m stressed, so don't worry. You’re gonna do well. I don’t doubt it one bit.”

Jungkook’s meeting the Culture Minister next week to present the Arts Center’s plans and activities leading to its opening to the public, which is why you think he needs that calmness as well. The team has been helping him with the preparations and while you felt bad that you didn’t get to contribute as much, he assured you that all the notes you left him have been instrumental.

But still, his words affect you. Is this calm and relaxed version of you all he wants to savor? Does it mean anything more?

The thoughts wander away as you have breakfast with him, and he asks if you wish to talk about work later on but you insist that you’re mentally ready for it all. He’s the one who gives you updates this time, and just like that, you’re back to your usual routine.

You glance at his plate, all clean right after because even this dish, he savors. And you realize that doing things for him, no matter how simple, makes you happy, too, especially when his lips turn up in a small smile and he nods in satisfaction.

“Good, huh?” You wiggle your eyebrows.

“It’s infinitely better than mine,” he hums.

“So, it’s really, really, really good then?”

“You don’t even know how mine tastes like.”

“True. But Taehyung said once that yours was really delicious and I’ll take his word for it. Seokjin agreed and I believe them.”

“Wow, really? That’s a rare moment where they praise me,” Jungkook laughs.

“You should savor that, too.”

“I should. Heavens know the last time that happened. And when it’ll happen again.”

“That’s kind of hard though, isn’t it?” You say, being a bit reflective as you go back to your daily routine after a trip that you wholly enjoyed. “Savoring things… capturing them, appreciating them. Like, you have to be in the moment, you have to be present, and that’s not easy to do.”

“It isn’t,” he responds after a while. “You have to care enough for something to be worth savoring, I guess.”

“Exactly. But how do you do that when everything is temporary - things, feelings… people. Not all of them are meant to stay,” you reply, meeting his eyes as they seem to be in deep thought.

“Maybe they will… if you ask them to,” he softly says.

“That depends.”

“On what?” He asks.

“If they have a reason to,” you shrug.

Your faraway eyes tell him that you’re in deep thought, perhaps processing the exchange that even Jungkook can’t fully wrap his head around. But you turn to him not long after, smiling as you take the plates to clean up, as if you’d just snapped out of a trance, of a moment of honesty.

He watches you from his seat. There’s an aura about you that truly feels more relaxed, yet there seems to be an added layer of pensiveness, of deep thinking that could easily be mistaken for savoring the moment when you might be questioning it, perhaps wondering if it’s real… or worth caring about in the first place.

Even until now, he doesn’t know what it is about you that has him hanging on to every word you say, like it’s some secret message or code to learning who you are and what your fears and pains and hopes and dreams might be.

In the past months, his moments with you have allowed him a peek inside - there’s this yearning for something that you’re not ready for; there’s this knowledge of the fleeting nature of the world that you want to capture as memories because that’s the only way you can make them stay; there’s this desire for companionship that terrifies you more than anything.

But then again, as he sees that soft courage in your eyes, maybe he knows why - he has the same fears as you, and perhaps that’s terrifying, too, as he realizes that much of what he’s scared of is tangible.

He fears the emptiness left in your absence and the silence surrounding him when you’re gone. His trip over the holidays made him think so; this past week when you were away solidified it. There’s a lot of you to miss. He’s unsure how to deal with these thoughts and feelings; he doesn’t know how to move forward and be professional when you affect him this way. All he can hope for is that you’ll always find a reason to stay close to him, that you’ll always find a reason to want him around, and that every moment you share is something worth it enough for you to savor but that you both never have to let go.

You think about the conversation with Jungkook later that night on your way home. There’s something about the impermanence of the world that’s always scared you; things break and wither away all the time and you fear the loss in their absence. Perhaps it’s because you’ve experienced various types of losses throughout your years of living.

You lost that childhood innocence the first time you saw your mother cry, then when her smile that finally returned was wiped off, and then when her hopeful eyes became filled with tears out of fear. You lost that comfort of a routine when you left Seoul at 10 years old, and then that stability when you said goodbye to your life in Busan. You lost that security when you decided to come back here with a dream tucked away, burdened with a debt and a past that you couldn’t escape. You lost that feeling of freedom when your favorite library closed, and then of safety during that night at the restaurant when you were hurt and exposed.

It’s hard to savor things when you know you’ll lose them one day. But that’s also precisely why you should, as what these past months have been showing you, you think now. The absence reminds you that something good was in its place, and that at one point in time, it made you hope that you deserved it, that you were worthy of having it.

But as you lay in bed that night and think of how much of Jungkook you thought about while you were away, you start to think that maybe things aren’t as temporary as you once believed. He was in the icy streets that you walked on and the warmth of the hot chocolate drink you had. He was in the drizzle on the playground that you wiped off and the touch of the leather notebook you saw at one of the shops.

And perhaps that was the difference - you didn’t just stand by; somehow it felt like you connected with them - they were tangible, within your grasp, and that made them linger, that made them feel real. In your mind, that’s where they stayed.

The tail-end of winter marks the time when you’ve settled in the new year. All your backlog from the holidays and your short birthday break have been worked on. Operational plans and goals for the year have been finalized. The Board report and meeting are over and major events have been scheduled. Things are picking up now as the Arts Center is near its completion, with the consequent promotions and marketing on full speed. That last bit has been contracted to a subsidiary company but Jungkook is still on top of most things, which means that so are you.

You accompany him to meetings with different departments regularly, and that’s on top of monitoring the other small projects that the VP office is working on, which is also on top of supporting Jungkook’s executive functions. In a blink of an eye, you’re back to the hustle and bustle nature of your job, and you’re reminded of why it’s been so hard to get out of it, and also why you can’t wait to do so.

There’s just so much going on all at once, and given how you are, you give all of yourself to it because it’s the only way to get things done; it’s the only way to get through it without feeling like you’re taking for granted all that you’ve been given and achieved. But it also means you’ve lost the sense of meaning of most other things, and you wanna be able to do something that means something to you, something of good memories, of beautiful things that are tangible that you can touch and feel.

You let go of the thoughts when Do-hyun and Yohan pop in your area to say goodbye. It’s another long night for everyone and you’re glad that they finally listened to you and decided to go home. You say that you still have a couple of things to work on when they insist that they walk you to the bus stop, telling them once more that you’ll be fine.

“It’s forecasted to rain soon,” Do-hyun informs you.

“I’ll get a cab, don’t worry,” you assure them. “Finance needs these files first thing tomorrow morning and we’ve got that ocular at 8. Thank you though.”

“Fine, but let us know when you’re home, okay?” She says.

“I will. Get home safely, you two.”

You get back to work, and with the peace and quiet in the office with you being the last one here, you manage to finish what you need to in an hour and then finally call it a night. You head out and sigh to yourself once you see the lightning strike, knowing that it wouldn’t be long before the rain will begin to pour. You manage to bring out your umbrella by the time it does, then turn at the corner to look for a cab so you can avoid those who’ll be hailing from the main road.

There are a few people who have the same idea as you, and it’s after some time before you spot one, with the driver slowing down once he sees you. But right as you start speed walking towards it, some man decides to get ahead, running past you and bumping you in the process, causing you to lose your balance. The wet pavement doesn’t help, as you slip on your foot and fall to the ground. You try to get up but jerk in pain when you do, realizing that you’d hurt your ankle, a foreign feeling that has you immediately worrying.

After all the times you’d found yourself under the rain, this is the worst moment of all - you’re hurting, all alone, and completely worn out. You’ve had a really long day and you don’t have the energy for this; all you want is to go home and have some rest. But you know there’s no other way, so you shift on your bum, manage to get up and strain your arms in the process, then you limp to the nearest post you can find using your umbrella as a walking stick then stand on one foot.

The rain has weakened a little, so you’re at least not getting even more wet, but it’s still winter and you’ve started to freeze. There are no other cabs in sight and all ride-hailing apps have been such a pain to book. Knowing that it’ll be tough to get home in any way at this stage and that you won’t be able to manage on your own, you decide to call Mr. Ri. He’s always told you that if you need help for anything, he’s another person that you could call.

It’s half past 8 in the evening. You’re banking on him being on the way home after having dropped Jungkook off at his building after a dinner meeting at 5:30.

“Hey, ___. Is everything alright?” Mr. Ri asks, knowing you rarely call at this hour.

“Not really,” you sigh, the shiver in your voice evident. “Have you dropped Jungkook off?”

“Not yet. But what do you mean, not really? What happened?”

“Are you driving?”

“No. I’m still waiting for him to finish. Tell me, are you in danger?” He presses, and you hear the worry in his voice.

You told him about Chi-won some weeks after it happened, and Mr. Ri, having known you for many years, knows you’re not one to usually reach out. He’s made it a point to check on you regularly, and calls like this would definitely ring some alarm bells.

“I’m not in danger but I hurt myself,” you say, quickly appeasing him that it’s probably just a sprained ankle and not that serious. “I just can’t get any ride and I can barely walk. I was hoping you were on the way home.”

“I’m not but I’ll go get you, okay? I’ll tell Jungkook and we’ll drive to you right away.”

“Mr. Ri, he’s in a meeting!”

“That’s most likely over and now they’re just chatting over drinks,” he reasons. “I’ll get him. You know he’ll want me to.”

“You don’t know that,” you stammer.

“You weren’t there with him the days after what happened that night at the restaurant, ___,” he huffs. “I just knew it was really bad because of how worried he was, and he’s never been that way. So yes, I know he’ll want me to get his ass out of there and be on the way to you. Plus, I’m sure he’ll fire me if I don’t.”

“Fine,” you concede. “Just don’t make it sound so bad because it really isn’t.”

“You know I can’t control how that kid reacts,” he hums. “Just send me your location.”

Mr. Ri heads out of the driver’s lounge and rushes to the restaurant where he manages to send a message to Jungkook that you’re stranded somewhere with possibly a sprained ankle. He says it as it is, knowing that Jungkook won’t need much to decide on ending the meeting and go to you, which he does right away.

“What happened?” He asks the older man as they both walk towards the basement parking.

“I don’t know. I didn’t ask any more questions,” Mr. Ri responds. “She’s somewhere near the office. We’ll be there in 20 minutes.”

“Try for 15,” Jungkook instructs.

He calls you right after and he immediately picks up on your chattering teeth.

“Hey, ___. How are you feeling?”

You’re a little surprised when Jungkook calls this soon, and with how you’re trying to move past whatever attraction you have towards the man, this really isn’t helping.

“Just… cold. My umbrella flew away,” you laugh. “The wind’s picked up and I think it’s gonna rain again.”

Just as you say so, it starts, and you pick up on the change in Jungkook’s voice. You’ve since learned that he’s not fond of it, always closing his eyes and trying to tune everything out with even just a drizzle. But he continues talking and asks what happened, trying to keep you company. You narrate the incident and attempt to play it off as something minor, although the longer you stay leaning against the post, the more pain you’re starting to feel.

“We’re five minutes away. We’ll be there soon,” he assures you then drops the call.

Jungkook clenches his fist and closes his eyes as the rain continues to pour. With the sound of the thunder, he jerks in his seat like he always does, but he pushes forward, knowing you need his help. He takes deep breaths just as he’s learned to do, and not long after, Mr. Ri informs him that he sees you just meters away.

The car slows down and Jungkook looks outside the window. He can see you leaning against a pole on one foot, drenched and shivering, your eyes closed as you wait for them to arrive. He meets Mr. Ri’s eyes in the rear view mirror as they halt, and with the rain just barely stopping, the older man nods and exits the car.

Jungkook watches from inside as Mr. Ri runs to you. He sees the smile on your face despite the droplets on the window. The older man takes your bag then helps you walk, leading you to the car where Jungkook manages to push the door open.

You slowly enter with as much energy you can muster, wincing in pain when you have to adjust your foot inside. You sigh in relief as you feel the warmth and dryness of the car, prompting you to apologize for getting it all wet.

“Don’t worry about it,” Jungkook shakes his head. “We’ll take you to the hospital, okay? And I won’t accept no for an answer.”

You nod in agreement, knowing that much as you’re causing him inconvenience right now, you’re too tired to argue. You lean your head by the window and try to catch your breath.

“Have you had dinner? He asks.

“Not yet. I was supposed to grab it on the way home.”

“We’ll pass by somewhere after the hospital.”

“Okay,” you look at him and smile.

Jungkook isn’t surprised when you don’t counter him. Perhaps it’s the exhaustion, as he sees it in how your smile isn’t as bright as what he’s used to, with it fading as you turn away. You’re still shivering though, despite the car heater being turned up. He doesn’t have a towel to dry you up, though, so he instead removes his coat and instructs you to lean forward so he can place it over your shoulders to warm your back. He takes his puffer jacket from the front seat and puts it over your lap right after, giving you warmth there, too.

“Is that better?” He asks.

“Yeah,” you mouth. “Thank you.”

His scent wafts through your senses, allowing you to breathe and feel all of him at once. It’s the closest thing to tangible comfort you’ve gotten from him, and you hate how good it feels.

You’re just about to fall asleep when the car comes to a stop. The rain has subsided and perhaps that’s why soon after, you hear Jungkook open his door and then your door, too. He removes his coat over your back, placing it back inside, then he holds onto your forearms to help you climb out. He takes his jacket and instructs you to wear it, giggling at how you’re being swallowed in it.

“I look ridiculous,” you pout as you sit on the wheelchair that he’s asked the nurse to get.

“Just a little,” he teases.

He walks next to you as you’re wheeled inside the hospital, staying close by when you explain to the ER doctor what happened. She assesses your foot and lower leg, diagnosing you with a sprained ankle like you expected, and proceeds to wrap it in elastic bandage.

She treats the minor scratches on your palms you got from the fall then writes you a prescription for painkillers. Jungkook takes it so he can buy them for you after, then he helps you settle the bill with your insurance.

You’re quite uncomfortable - you’re still a little wet and the bandage feels foreign around your foot. But you’re also feeling a bit shy, now that Jungkook is the one pushing the wheelchair towards the pharmacy nearby. He parks you at the side while he buys the medicine, and as you look on, you can’t help the relief mixed with giddiness that you feel despite the pain that’s close to overtaking you.

He stands by the counter with his white dress shirt slightly untucked and the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His hands are in his pockets while he waits for the pharmacist to return, and amidst everything that’s going on, you’re still able to admire how overwhelmingly handsome he looks, especially given what he’s doing right now for you. His side view is quite blinding, so you’re slightly embarrassed when he turns around and calls your name again after you missed it the first few times.

“Dazed and tired?” He asks as he walks back to you with a pack of medicines.

“Definitely,” you say, which isn’t a lie; it’s just not the whole truth. “I just want to eat and have a nice bath and then sleep.”

“And you’ll do all that soon,” he assures you. “We’ll pass by whatever’s open on the way to your place. Just make sure you don’t have the hot water on, okay? And then elevate your foot when you sleep.”

“Yes, I heard everything she said,” you playfully roll your eyes.

“Including the full-on rest that’s required of you for the next few days?” He raises an eyebrow. “Because that’s what you’re gonna have. You’re on leave until you’re able to walk properly again, Ms. Cho.”

“So now you’re being formal,” you tease, flashing him a playful smile. “But yes, Mr. Jeon. The instructions are understood.”

“Good,” he laughs softly. “Glad you’re not being stubborn about it.”

“Oh, not with this one, not when I’m this tired and in this much pain.”

His look turns sullen at the admission of what you’re feeling and you wish he didn’t feel this bad. But you can’t deny the way it’s giving you butterflies, prompting you to scold yourself internally because learning how caring he is isn’t exactly what you need to get over a crush. This is definitely the worst part about being injured, you decide.

You make it out of the hospital and he helps you again as you enter the car, sliding in next to you as he ensures that you’re warm.

You pass by a noodle house on the way, and he buys you some more food for the next day despite your insistence that he didn’t have to. But you’re too tired to argue some more, and you doze off a little during the drive to your apartment, with your half-awake self mumbling your apology about taking up his time.

Jungkook playfully shakes his head. Knowing you’re probably shallow sleep-talking, he disregards your words. He just gets glimpses of you, comforted to know that you’re at least getting the most rest you can have, given your current state. The painkillers will kick in soon and that’ll help you sleep better, but right now, he wishes he could do more for you.

In the deepest crevices of his heart, he wants to hold your still shivering hands and maybe hug your trembling body. He wants to stay with you until you’re warm and comfortable in your bed, perhaps assure you in whatever way that you’re not alone, that there’s help whenever you need it. He can’t imagine how it would’ve been like for you being under the rain, cold and hurt with no one around.

On second thought, he can, and that’s the thing about it. Even if you get out of it with just a sprained ankle - considering how much worse it could’ve been - it’s still terrifying being alone and powerless, paralyzed on the spot and not knowing if anyone will show up. He wants nothing more than for you to get over that and be able to move past it because he knows how haunting it could be; he knows how restraining such memories are.

But he also knows that there’s not much he could do - not with the unnamed feelings he can’t express, and not with the line he still believes he shouldn’t cross.

So he settles for glances and soft smiles at your fluttering eyes and slightly parted mouth. You look tired but peaceful; he thinks it’s quite endearing. It also feels intrusive so he looks away, out into the streets that he’s able to somehow see now. He thinks about the timing of it all - your late night and his dinner out, your injury and the bad weather. He’s thankful that the rain subsided and that allowed him to help you as much as he was able to, and that he got to you in the first place.

You arrive at your apartment with you now fully awake, and Jungkook heads to your side right away. Pulling you out of the car requires more strength from him, and despite your terrible condition, the butterflies appear once more when he instructs you to hold onto him for support. You have to act unaffected when you feel his broad shoulders and taut arms, with your hands gingerly laying on them; you wonder if he feels anything, too, under the thin material of his dress shirt.

His left hand only grazes your waist but his hold tightens after you grant him permission, perhaps knowing that it would be harder for you if he holds you that loose, he asked you to put your weight on him after all. Despite your agreement, you still hold in your breath, a silly attempt at slowing down your quickening heartbeat. He’s never been this close, and you’re unsure if you want him to be anywhere else.

You suspend your thoughts for the shortest of seconds until you both manage to get up the few steps to your door. Mr. Ri helps in unlocking it, and you settle on the dining chair that Jungkook pulls out for you after you both enter.

As you release a breath and watch him look around, it’s then you realize that your boss - the Jeon Corporation Vice President who lives in a penthouse in an exclusive district in Seoul - is in your tiny studio apartment that’s literally just the size of his bedroom. You’re not ashamed one bit but you are a little shy, so you jokingly welcome him to your “little mansion.”

“It’s nice,” he hums, looking around some more, which he doesn’t need to move to do.

The small round dining table, the off-the-wall kitchen, and the three-seater couch are all in the open living space. There’s a half-wall that separates your sleeping area, with your double bed against it and the tiniest of balconies just off of it.

You’re quite proud of what you’ve made of the place, with the plants in the corners, some chic art pieces on the walls, and photos with your friends and family on stick-on frames resting on the shelves. It’s cozy and comfortable for you, and you feel quite proud when Jungkook’s lips turn up when you respond that you’re happy here when he asks.

“It’s everything I need,” you hum. “And it’s in a safe part of town. My neighbors are older couples who are all kind.”

“That’s good,” he says, turning to you. “Will they be much help to you while you recover?”

“I’ll be okay,” you insist. “I have a crutch. I’ve got food to heat up, and my place is so small that I don’t have to move around to get things done. I don’t really need help, you know?”

He scrunches his eyebrows, seemingly unconvinced.

“Watch,” you say, your shallow confidence pushing you to grab the crutch next to you then using it to walk towards him so you could prove that you’re capable enough to look after yourself.

But your unfamiliarity with it leads you to mistime your step. Before you know it, you’re tripping on your foot and losing your balance, and as your life is about to flash before your eyes thinking that you’re gonna fall once again and make your injury worse, Jungkook’s reflex kicks in and he steps forward to catch you. You feel his grip on your waist gradually tighten as if to keep you steady, as if to make sure you’re alright. He’s so close, you can feel his breath as he pants, the worried look on his face something you’re familiar with by now. But he stays there, inches away, and so do you.

He’s bending, so he stays leveled with you. You can see his long eyelashes resting on his honeyed skin and the endearing curve of his nose. He looks so soft like this, comfortable even, with his big round eyes looking like the most innocent ones you’ve ever seen.

The voice in your head suddenly becomes loud enough and you break his gaze, realizing then that you’re also clutching onto his shoulder for support. You give him a look of apology but he just laughs, something you’re thankful for because the last thing you want is for the tension to thicken.

“You’re stubborn, aren’t you? You think it’s that easy?” He shakes his head, his tone sounding like he’s both teasing and reprimanding you.

“It seemed like it,” you shrug, allowing him to help you back on the seat, disregarding the slightest bit of giddiness you feel as he has one hand on your free arm while the other ghosts over your waist in case you fall again.

“It’s not. And I know this because I’ve used this before,” he says. “So since you’ll be by yourself, we have to make sure you can at least use the crutch without falling, okay?”

“Fine,” you concede, listening to his instructions carefully then trying to do it on your own.

It takes some getting used to, but after a few tries, you manage to at least walk without tripping. You plan on just staying in bed or on the couch tomorrow anyway so you’re not that worried. Even if Jungkook still seems to be.

“I’m okay,” you insist. “I’m gonna survive. But you should head home. It’s getting late and you have that ocular in the morning. I’ll just have to email Chin-sun about accompanying you and—”

“None of that,” he interjects. “I’ll be the one to tell her and I don’t want you worrying about work tomorrow, okay? You’re gonna take your medicine and just rest.”

“You’re demanding, aren’t you?” You raise an eyebrow.

“Only when I’m dealing with someone as stubborn as you,” he counters.

You just laugh at him answering back, enjoying your banter more than you should, then he says that he’ll go ahead, for as long as you’re sure you can manage. It takes another five minutes until he makes it out the door. But before he disappears, you call his name, your heart skipping a beat when he turns around, as if he’s just hanging onto your every word.

“Thank you,” you say. “I know it was a long day and it was raining but… you still came for me.”

“Just recover quickly, okay? I’ll check on you in the morning.”

You nod and he leaves. And just like that, you’re once again on your own - damp, injured, and extremely tired. Jungkook’s presence remains in your apartment though, and there he is again, making you smile and making you feel things you shouldn’t.

You don’t mind being alone. In fact, you enjoy it. But during the times when you don’t want to be, he just happens to be there. And being the stubborn woman that you are, deep down, you like it that he is, that in your own little world with the walls up so high, he’s become a frequent visitor. You’re just not sure if you want him to stay just yet.

You wake up the next morning feeling faint and sore, and it’s probably the painkillers having lost their effect. And there’s a reason why, seeing that it’s close to midday when you finally get out of bed. You manage to stand and walk to the kitchen with no issues, and you take your medication and heat up the food that Jungkook bought for you last night. It’s when you’re seated that he calls, bringing that smile to your otherwise uneventful day.

“Hello?”

“Hey, ___. How are you feeling?” He asks.

“Just fine. I took my medicines for the day and I’m about to eat lunch,” you reply. “And you? How was the ocular?”

“It was good. It has a lot of potential so I’ll run down the details with the teams and propose it. But speaking of sites, remember what I said about Hoseok and I thinking of a Scandinavian-inspired mid-rise in the mountains?”

“Yeah, the one you came up with during your trip. Are you gonna push through with it soon?”

“Perhaps. I’ve gotten emails of proposed sites for some other projects but I’ve seen a few that could work with this idea,” he shares. “There’s one in Gangwon that’s near the town center so it would be practical for many. There’s even— ah, why am I saying this to you now? You’re off the clock.”

“It’s okay,” you assure him. Jungkook doesn’t always show this much excitement with the projects he has to manage so when he does, you encourage him. It’s also an excuse to hear more of his voice. “My mind’s not prepared for being home today anyway so I’m a little disoriented. But that’s good. I can look into the sites and we can do an ocular whenever you prefer.”

“Alright, that’s something to schedule for next month. But uh, you sure you’re fine? Does your ankle still hurt? Did you get proper sleep?”

“Well, I slept like a baby,” you giggle. “And I at least remained in one position. It still hurts a bit but it should be okay in the next few days. I’m just gonna have to replace the bandage tomorrow morning.”

“Okay. Just make sure to ice it and keep it elevated.”

“Yes, boss,” you tease, earning you a groan. “But uh, thank you for checking up on me. I know you’ve got a busy day ahead.”

He’s silent, and you suppose it’s him again not knowing how to respond to gratitude, so you follow it up by saying that you’ll eat your meal now and reminding him of his meeting at 2PM.

“You better not be checking your emails and my calendar right now,” he warns.

“I’m not. I just memorize your schedule,” you defend.

“Okay then, I’ll go ahead.”

Jungkook drops the call and sinking in his seat, he sighs in relief. He managed to get through that conversation without sounding extremely worried, which is what he’s been since last night. His busy day today actually includes constantly worrying about how you’re doing, but he supposes it’s too much to let you know. Sure it’s just a sprained ankle, but knowing how you tend to move about, anything can happen. You were all alone for some time last night, too, just waiting for a way to get home. And that’s another thing he worries about - that fear latching onto you, that helplessness weighing you down.

He asks Mr. Ri if he’s heard from you, thinking that you’d probably be more honest with him, but the older man says you told him the same thing.

“Don’t you believe her?” Mr. Ri wonders.

“I do, but she’s quite stubborn though,” Jungkook laments.

“Well, I’ve known her for a while and she tends to just deal with things on her own,” Mr. Ri says.

“But she shouldn’t. She’s injured.”

“I think it’s natural for people who’ve been alone for many years to be that way,” the older man shrugs. “I mean, you’re the same.”

Jungkook doesn’t disagree. And if you’re truly anything like him, then you’d just push through the pain and force it to stop hurting so you can go back to your normal busy life because doing so keeps you from thinking of how lonely it feels when you’re sick or hurt and there’s no one around. It’s how he’s always been, too, he admits to himself.

The thought disturbs him, which is why he messages you three more times during the day and then again the next morning, asking if he could drop by. He’s expecting you to insist that you’re fine and he doesn’t need to, so it surprises him when you say that he could.

You’re pacing back and forth in your mind since you’re unable to physically do so, but the thought of Jungkook visiting you this Saturday morning is a lot for you to handle, even if you did say it was alright for him to come. The truth is, you wanted him to, only because selfishly, seeing someone be that worried about you gives you some form of comfort.

You called your family yesterday and told them about the injury, which they obviously panicked about. Your mom asked if you needed her to come to you but like always, you said she didn’t need to. You told Yoongi about it, too, and he was worried as well, in the classic way that he often is; he had food delivered to you for dinner last night so you didn’t have to think about it. You only told your best friends about it this morning and they were furious you waited so long to let them know; they were packing their stuff right as you were speaking to them two hours ago.

You know you have people to depend on and would be at your doorstep anytime you ask. These are the same people who’ve done that for years and you fully accept their care and attention; it’s become a part of you and your healing process. But when someone like Jungkook who, for whatever reason he has, shows you the same, it feels different; he goes out of his way to show it to you, and he’s not even someone who normally does it. It’s a new kind of comfort, one that you find yourself seeking. So when he called earlier and asked if he could drop by, there was an internal sigh of relief.

Over half an hour later, your doorbell rings, and you limp your way towards the door to open it.

Other than being in suits, you’ve only ever seen Jungkook in his gym clothes - half naked as well - and in night out wear. You realize that this is the first time you’re seeing him in a casual outfit, and with a jacket over a sweatshirt and a brown beanie, he looks different - there’s that boyish charm that you’ve never seen; he looks softer, kinder, still reserved but a lot more comfortable.

You let him in after your greetings, then you turn to him and smile.

“It’s really the suit, I know it now,” you tease. “It’s what makes you look intimidating.”

He looks at his attire then frowns at you. “So how do I look now?”

“Not intimidating.”

“Wow, what a surprise,” he playfully rolls his eyes. “Whereas you…” He eyes you in gray leggings and a blush jumper, looking soft and comfortable and even more like the bright spot he’s realized you are, but he’d never tell you that. “You look injured.”

“Gee, what a surprise. I feel injured, too,” you laugh. “But uhm, it’s nice of you to visit my humble mansion once again.”

“I just wanted to make sure you’re doing better,” he hums. “And bring some more food so you don’t have to worry about it.”

You eye the beef brisket with rice and say that you know what you’ll be having for lunch. He responds that he might just go back to the restaurant and meet his best friends there, too. You return to your seat on the couch, realizing there’s not much room for him to sit on, but he gets to you first, standing in front of you and eyeing the elastic bandage on the table.

“Aren’t you due for a redress?” He asks.

“Yes but uh, I can’t actually reach my foot,” you say with an embarrassed smile. “I’m not really flexible so I’ll just wait until Soomin and Jimin arrive.”

“I can do it,” he offers, thinking that the bandage isn’t serving its purpose if it remains loose. “I mean, I’ve dressed myself on my own before so I’m familiar with it.”

It’s probably the painkillers but something possesses you and you agree, your mind too out of it to take the words back. A part of you wishes you had, especially when your heart does a thing when he kneels on the floor and slowly takes your injured foot. You wiggle your toes in reflex, as if they’re shy, too, and Jungkook laughs at your silly antics, especially when you admit that you’re a little ticklish.

But he softly looks at you right after and asks if he’s hurting you, and you shake your head, unable to say anything else and process that you really allowed this man - your boss and in-denial crush - to do this.

You sit there, charmed by the way he looks determined to get this done. He removes the old bandage and wipes your ankle before wrapping it with a new one. His hands are large and quite rough but he’s very gentle, making sure to not lift your foot too high and that the bandage isn’t wrapped too tightly. Once he’s finished, he lays it on the table and looks up at you to ask if it feels okay.

“Yes,” you shyly smile. “Thank you. That was, uh, that was really nice of you.”

He nods and stands up to throw the trash in the bin, wanting to quickly hide his smile at how wholesome you looked in thanking him.

He proceeds to look around, taking more of your home in. There’s something very calming about it, and it’s more than just the plants that you have and the right amount of sunlight coming from the balcony door and kitchen window. There’s also something familiar, as he looks through your shelf of photos, seeing your mom and her partner for the first time. She looks a lot like you. She has a nice smile like yours, and she sees that same joy on her face as he’d seen on you, as she hugs you tightly in one of the pictures.

The familiarity is similar to when he first had a whiff of your scent - old rose like the one his mother used to wear, one he remembers as a child when he still clung to her. There are those memories that stick with him. Others he doesn’t have anymore but that’s good, he supposes. Seeing your shelf, he sees all the good and tangible things you hold dear.

“The photo on the far right, the one with Soomin and Jimin. We took that during my birthday trip using your gift,” you tell him. “It came out really nicely.”

“It did. Did you finish the film? What else did you take photos of?”

“We used it all up,” you smile. “And just a lot of the scenery and the three of us. We all divided them so we could have copies and just remember how fun that week was.”

“Good, that’s what I hoped.”

Jungkook stands there, his jacket now off so his sleeves are rolled up to his elbows and his hands are in his pockets as he looks through your shelf. You wonder what he’s thinking, what he’s seeing, if any of this makes him curious. It’s as if he’s taking in all the small parts of who you are that he can see displayed before him. He turns to you and your eyes meet again, and for a moment, it feels like you’re really seeing him and he’s really seeing you, like there’s something only both of you share and understand and want and can give.

But the doorbell ringing disrupts it, with you wondering who it could be since your best friends won’t arrive until an hour from now. Jungkook walks to the door and opens it, surprised to see Yoongi who’s just as surprised to see his friend in your apartment.

“Hey, you’re back. And… here,” you smile, attempting to stand up but Yoongi tells you to stay put.

“I flew home last night and thought I’d visit and get you some food, but it seems like I’m second in line,” he says, his smug face causing you to glare at him.

“I just wanted to make sure she was okay,” Jungkook defends. “I won’t stay long.”

“Of course you do. And I won’t stay long either. I don’t wanna disturb anything.”

He smirks at his friend, prompting Jungkook to glare at him as well.

“Yah, chill, you two. I’m really just passing by,” Yoongi reiterates, making his way now to sit on the arm of your sofa. “Just wanted to check on ___ and make sure she’s well-fed.”

“I’m injured, not starving, okay?” You groan. “But thanks. What have you got there?”

“Noodles, custard buns, and some tarts. Wasn’t sure what you’re into when you’re incapacitated,” Yoongi shrugs.

“I’m very much mobile,” you correct him. “Just… slow and limping.”

Jungkook pulls your dining chair and sits in front of you, and the three of you talk as if this isn’t weird at all. You’re all colleagues - you and Jungkook consider Yoongi as your friend, but you don’t know if you should consider your boss as such, and you don’t know if he considers you the same. You’ve definitely experienced a lot of things that could qualify what you have as friendship, but even then, there’s something more about it, something a little more intimate, different, terrifying.

You brave through this dynamic and learn that Yoongi likes to tell Jungkook off a lot. It’s the kind of bluntness you expect from Yoongi’s no-nonsense attitude but it’s refreshing to see him be more straightforward towards someone like Jungkook who you’re used to seeing as commanding and serious. Jungkook takes the hits, seemingly unbothered as they bicker, and it’s another side of him you enjoy seeing - the smiles and laughter are natural, and there’s this comfort about him that you suddenly want more of.

The time passes quickly, with the doorbell ringing again signaling that your friends have arrived. Yoongi gets up first to open the door, greeting them who do the same. You manage to stand up with Jungkook telling you to be careful, and when it dawns on them who else is in your apartment, Jimin’s face turns sour and Soomin’s goes from confused to amused.

Jungkook looks taken aback by the cold welcome, but he manages to introduce himself to them.

“Oh, we know,” Jimin says dryly. “You’re the one who gives her so much work that she had to do overtime again and that’s why she got hurt.”

You feel the tension come like a strong wave and you try to lower the level a little bit.

“He also brought me to the hospital and got me some food,” you tell Jimin, whose bitterness isn’t unfounded. He did listen to you complain about this very man all those months ago. “He’s just checking up on me, making sure I’m alright, the way you guys are.”

“As we should,” Jimin huffs. “At least we don’t cause you any injury or pain.”

“You don’t. But you do make things better so could you do that, please?” You say, opening your arms for a hug, something to appease him before it gets even more tense.

Jimin has the sweetest smile but wouldn’t be afraid to burn anyone down with his looks if they deserve it. Jungkook did at one point, but you obviously feel very differently about that now. But still, you glance at the man, hoping this encounter isn’t putting him off too much, and with the slight tinge of guilt in his eyes, you suppose it hasn’t.

Jungkook turns away, partly because a reminder of how he’d treated you before makes him regret even more how you both started, and partly because seeing you affectionate with any man - even if it’s your best friend - makes him a tiny bit jealous, only because it’s something he can’t be with you. Seeing you that way with Hajoon months ago was different; Jungkook had been more shocked than anything. But this time, given that his attraction towards you seems to grow every second, and that he’s been wanting nothing more than to comfort you, there’s more of that feeling of loss, of hope that it could be him one day, even if that’s something that’ll probably never happen.

“I know you dislike him but tone it down for now, okay?” You whisper to Jimin. “My place is too small to contain all this tension.”

“I know, I’m sorry. Seeing him just reminds me of what you had to go through because of him,” he says before pulling away. “But he did help. And well, Soo and I are still upset that you didn’t tell us sooner. You know we would’ve driven here on Thursday night.”

“I know, and that’s exactly why. You both had something big going on and I could wait,” you reply, a reason you give them everytime.

Wanting a short breather from all this, you excuse yourself and ask Soomin to help you with something in the bathroom, and she heads there right away.

“Can you make sure that those two don’t murder each other?” You whisper to Yoongi as you gesture towards Jimin and Jungkook.

“It would be entertaining if they did, but yes, I’ll try,” he chuckles.

You walk to where Soomin is and after closing the door, she looks at you with the same amusement that she’s had since she arrived.

“What in the romance drama is this!” She exclaims, lowering her voice when you scold at her to keep it down. “All your three men coming to your home to make sure you’re okay? Talk about making an impression.”

“They aren’t my men, okay!” You scowl at her. “They all just happened to have the same thought. And no, Jimin doesn’t count.”

“Whatever,” Soomin laughs. “It’s just… I know you’re hurt and that you’ll be okay but it’s just amusing to see them show up for you like this. Especially the big boss. He’s way hotter up close, I can tell you that.”

“Please don’t remind me,” you frown. “I wish there was a potion I could take to make him look unattractive to me so that I’d stop being so giddy at everything he does. And fuck, Soo, I haven’t been like this in ages. Or ever.”

“Well, you haven’t been this accepting of someone’s attention, that’s for sure.”

“Yeah, and I’m being silly. I might just be putting myself up for disappointment here,” you groan. “I mean, I don’t even know what I’m feeling, but I know what I’m not supposed to feel. And he’s not making it any easier.”

“Your situation isn’t easy in the first place, hun. And there are many reasons why,” she sighs, wishing there was a way to uncomplicate this very complicated relationship you have with Jungkook. “But whatever it is you think you shouldn’t feel, think about what he may be feeling, too. He wouldn’t be making all this effort since Thursday night for this to just be nothing.”

“I wish none of that means anything. That’s probably gonna be easier, right? That he doesn’t feel anything remotely close to what I do? That’s probably better than dealing with all the complications.”

“Maybe, but we don’t really know,” Soomin says, pulling you in for a hug. “But also think about how new and different this feels. It might be worth it in the long run.”

You fall into her embrace, knowing that during the toughest times of your life, this was your saving grace. It’s no different when you’re confused and in need of guidance, and though you’ve always made decisions for yourself with knowledge of the consequences, Soomin was there to back you up during the times when you were going in somewhat blindly. She wants you to be happy, and you won’t really know if continuing to feel what you do about Jungkook will make you so. If all else fails, well, you could always go back home, or maybe return to Busan and start a life there. Jungkook will just be a memory; you hope to the heavens it’ll be a good one.

You shake away the thoughts and finally go back out and are relieved to find some peace. Jimin’s washing your dishes while talking to Yoongi who wipes them dry. Jungkook sits on your sofa, looking around quietly, but he stands when he sees you approach him.

“I’ll go ahead,” he says, gesturing towards the door. “I… I think you’ve got everything you need.”

“Let me walk you there,” you smile.

He’s outside the door when you thank him again then apologize if Jimin made him uncomfortable.

“It’s okay. I’d be protective of my best friend, too, if I learned how their boss treated them,” he responds.

“I, uh… those were hard times and I may have complained quite a bit about you,” you pout. “I’m so sorry.”

“I’m sure I deserved it,” he chuckles. “You’re lucky you have them. I mean, my best friends tease me a lot and say shit about me to my face and behind my back.”

“Oh come on, Seokjin and Taehyung love you,” you laugh. “I’ve seen it, but you all also said you’re like that to each other; it’s how you guys grew up. I mean, I was the new girl in school and Jimin and Soomin have been protective since day one, whereas your best friends have shown you tough love since you were kids. They said you never accepted their affection so they switched tactics.”

“That’s fair. I was always shy and then turned into a bitter, introverted child. There was no transition, I guess. Now we’re adults and have just stuck with each other because we’re all we’ve ever known.”

“Well, you make decisions to stand by people, Jungkook. They do with you and you do the same with them. Plus, you’re not that insufferable,” you tease.

“At least you don’t think so. Not anymore, I hope,” he says softly, looking away.

“People deserve second chances. You gave me some and more and I… I’m glad you did. I at least get to see this side of you that’s helped me a lot these past months. I’m thankful. And I hope you know that.”

Jungkook just nods, unable to reply through words again. You let him, knowing it’s his default response. He walks to his car and turns around for a final goodbye, leaving you in anticipation for when you’d be with him again.

“Well, that was a long goodbye,” Yoongi says, surprising you as he stands behind you. “And no, I didn’t hear anything.”

You turn to him with a playful frown. “I was just making sure that Jimin didn’t make him feel too bad. I mean, I know I complained a lot but still. I didn’t want Jungkook to think I cursed his existence or something.”

“You did at one point though,” Yoongi laughs. “But it’s acceptable. Jungkook was rude, and heavens know how much shit I gave him for treating you the way he did.”

“You did, huh?”

“I always told you I’d look out for you, ___. Whatever happened or didn’t happen between us, I was always going to have your back.”

“You’re heaven-sent, Min Yoongi,” you smile. “I wish I could do half as much as you do for me.”

“You do more. I hope you don’t ever doubt the comfort that your presence gives to people. Maybe that’s what it’s done to Jungkook. And I know he hasn’t felt much of that in years.”

It’s Yoongi’s last words before he says goodbye, and they stay in your head for the next few days. Maybe Soomin’s right - all that Jungkook has been doing might mean something, and you hope that finding out what it is will all be worth it.

Jungkook decides to meet with his friends at one of his favorite restaurants for lunch. All he planned on doing today was visit you and he has nothing else going on for the rest of it. The club scene has become boring for him, and going to one only to bring home a woman to hook up with is no longer appealing, not when you invade his mind all the time.

Being welcomed in your home was refreshing. And even if it was awkward, meeting your friends allowed him another peak into your world. You choose the people you allow in, and you don’t choose many of them. The ones you do stay for a long time, and that’s the kind of person you seem to be. You value relationships so much that’s why you don’t have many of them, and with all that you went through and the vulnerability you’ve both shown each other, he’s started to hope that one day, he’d be deserving of that, too.

“So did you feel like a fish out of water being there with her actual friends?” Seokjin asks. “Because I don’t know what you’d consider your relationship with her is. Boss-assistant feels too simplistic at this point. Are you friends? Are you more? Or is that all too ambiguous?”

“I don’t… know,” Jungkook sighs. “We’re all that but we also aren’t. We’ve gone through so much that it doesn’t seem like there’s a way to define what we are. But I feel like I’ve seen her at her most vulnerable and we’ve connected because of that.”

“And what about you? Have you been vulnerable in front of her?” Seokjin asks.

Has he? Jungkook thinks. Maybe that first time he asked for your help with his new role but he supposes it’s nothing compared to what you’ve shown him, intentional or not.

“Not really. I… I don’t let myself be. That’s still distance I need to establish,” Jungkook reasons.

“More like, because you know that if you do show that side of you, you’re scared you’ll find out that she’ll understand, and that having her next to you is what you need to heal whatever parts of you that are still hurting?” Seokjin counters.

“I don’t want to need her, you know that. There’s a boundary I shouldn’t cross. She’s my assistant and—”

“You’ve been treating her like the most important person and it’s not hard to miss,” Taehyung interjects. “You were never like this, not since Chaerin.”

“I don’t even know what it is about ___ that just makes me consider risking things, you know?” Jungkook sighs. “I’m always torn with what our reality is and what we could be but I’m afraid that if we cross that line, we’ll have to make sacrifices. I… I’m finding myself wanting her around all the time. When she leaves, I want her to stay. When she’s not there, I want her to come. But at the same time, I don’t want her too close because I don’t know if I can have her or if I can want her. Because I don’t know what of me I can give that won’t hurt her,” he admits, with a bit of help from some whiskey.

“Maybe if you let yourself be vulnerable, you’d know,” Seokjin advises. “Some people would run and hide but there’s always that one person who wouldn’t. That might just be her. And then you’ll learn what you can give, too.”

Jungkook lets his friends’ words settle and then thinks about them throughout the night that he spends all alone in his penthouse, with another glass of whiskey in his hand as he looks out the balcony. A part of him wants you to run and hide when you see who he really is, what he hides and what he’s ashamed of. Maybe that would be easier, he thinks; maybe that would hurt less.

You return to work the next Tuesday, having gone to the hospital the day before and being cleared to return to your usual routine. Jimin and Soomin stayed with you until that evening, with you rejecting their insistence to stay another day. You can manage, you assure them. You’re able to walk properly now and would just need to do daily exercises, wear the elastic bandage for another week, and forego the heels.

Jungkook’s pleased to know that you’re doing better and makes sure you don’t walk around if you don’t need to, so he’s been the one going to see you when he needs something. He also postponed some potential site visits for the project that he and Hoseok are working on until you’re fully capable, which is why it’s three weeks later when you find yourself in the car with him, on the way to some towns in nearby provinces on an early Friday morning.

Mr. Ri called in sick today and Jungkook didn’t want to deal with a chauffeur he doesn’t know, so he decided to drive instead, thinking it’s more efficient that way. These are all initial checks and being that you’re the only one from his team who’s privy to the details, he wanted you to join him as a sounding board and also to get your own thoughts about what you’ll be seeing. He has a vision in mind and he needs to translate it properly; you’ve been helpful these past months in making sure he’s able to do that.

Disregarding what this time alone with you would do to him, Jungkook meets you in his penthouse, telling himself to focus on only one thing today, and that’s finding the right place for his planned project.

You leave early for a quick stop at a cafe and then head north to some towns in Gyeonggi province. There are some properties and land that are up for sale, and you prepared the information about them beforehand, allowing Jungkook to play around with the timeline and budget in his mind, even drawing rough drafts on his iPad as he assesses them. You’re both in work-mode, discussing each site on the way to the next one, with you searching for more details along the way and him, stopping on the side of the road to add an idea that he comes up with on the spot.

It’s a little chaotic, as his mind goes from one thing to another, but you suppose this is how Jungkook naturally is. You’ve seen him perform his duties in various ways, but this is when you see the most raw side of him, and it’s quite the privilege to see. He always said he preferred the creative aspect of the job, which is why he enjoyed his time in Singapore, handling the design department. You contend that he’s grown tremendously in his executive role. As Hoseok has said, Jungkook relates to his staff better now, and has even engaged and attracted more partners with his great ideas.

You’re quite sentimental going on this trip with him. It wasn’t long ago when you were going to work with anxiety, anticipating his next criticism so you can prepare yourself, and then going home feeling like a failure. So much has happened since then, and you could even say that you’ve found comfort in your daily routines; doing something different like this is now exciting and something you look forward to, especially since it allows you to go outside, see the sights, and breathe the cool air.

“You okay there?” He asks, noticing your silence.

“Yeah. I was just thinking how 10 months ago, this would’ve stressed me out so much.”

“What? Going on a road trip?”

“Pretty much going anywhere with you,” you laugh. “Car rides even with Mr. Ri made me freak out, and I was so scared to make a mistake or make you wait for information that I couldn’t find. And now here we are - I survived the last five hours with you and not once did you groan at me.”

“Wow, I must’ve been a really terrible boss to make your standard for a non-stressful day to be that low,” he laughs before turning serious. “But I… I’m… I’m sorry, for all the stress and anxiety that I caused you. I was being selfish and irrational about it. I hate change and you were the biggest one, even with my new role. I took out all the frustration on you and I shouldn’t have.”

He says more than he expected, but it’s also the apology that he should’ve given—that you deserved —months ago.

“I forgive you,” you say softly, glancing at him before returning your eyes towards the road. “I always knew my limits and I guess I let you push it and that was on me. I could’ve stood up to you, too.”

“You did though, more than once. And that knocked some sense into me.”

“I guess,” you hum. “And then things improved and I’m just glad they did.”

There’s a prolonged silence after, as you both opt to bask in the scenery around you. There’s that understanding and acceptance of how things were and that regardless of what’s going on in your own minds, you at least have this. You think to yourself that this just makes leaving that much harder, but at least this is one more memory you could take with you.

You make it to Hwacheon in Gangwon past noon, and this is where you spend most of your time in, as the sites are spread out around the county. There are areas tucked away in the mountains while there are those closer to town with grand views. It’s in the latter where you grab some lunch and go through some of his plans, and you take in his ideas, learning from him in the process.

It’s late in the afternoon when you inspect the final site, which is in an area in the neighboring Chuncheon county. It’s got potential for another project that CEO Jeon is looking to do, and with your notes completed, you and Jungkook start the trip back home. You would reach the tail-end of the Friday night traffic by the time you return to Seoul, the GPS says, and so both of you savor the sky’s changing colors as it transitions to the evening, letting the soft sounds of the radio replace the silence.

Barely 30 minutes in, the rain starts to pour, and it’s seconds later when it dawns on you what that means, as you hear heavy breathing next to you. You turn to Jungkook whose hands are tightly gripping the wheel, with sweat lining his eyebrows despite the cool temperature.

“Did the forecast say it was gonna rain?” He asks, the mix of panic and frustration evident in his voice.

“Yes, but not until late in the evening,” you say, checking your phone to make sure you got the correct information.

Your heart breaks upon realizing that at midday, the weather station warned that there was going to be a thunderstorm, with rainfall coming in around this time. You inform Jungkook, and despite all the progress in your relationship, your heart breaks a second time when he says that you should’ve constantly checked, that the weather changes all the time and you should’ve been mindful, and that now you’re both gonna be stuck on the road because he’s unable to drive and you don’t know how to. His tone is harsh, accusatory, as if it was something you could control, as if everything was your fault, just like how it was before.

Jungkook stops on the side of the road as the downpour continues, and he leans his head on the steering wheel now as he takes deep breaths. You tell him he could breathe better if he sits straight up, but he ignores you.

A part of you wants to remark how it’s ironic that just earlier, he was apologizing for the way he treated you, and now it’s like you’ve both taken a few steps back. You want to say it’s not your fault, that you wouldn’t even have known that the rain affected him this way if you hadn’t seen him be nervous about it when you went home from the gala last year. But you think about the way his eyes looked earlier, how they filled with worry and fear, like there was a sense of powerlessness that you know a little about.

So you settle for a bit of grace and understanding, thinking they’re what he needs.

“I don’t know why this is on me,” you say softly. “I didn’t know how bad it was but if I did, I would’ve checked constantly and I would’ve had us turn back the second I saw that forecast. And if I could drive, I’d drive us back as fast as I could. I’m sorry.”

He slows his breathing and sits up. His hands still tightly gripping the wheel but his eyes are downcast, and you suppose there’s more sadness than anger, so you stop pressing your nails on your skin, which you’d started doing in anticipation of him arguing with you about it.

“I don’t like the rain,” he shares, his voice low. “I… I have a bad memory of it as a kid and I just get reminded whenever it starts. I panic when it gets louder and I just… I can’t stay out here when that's all I can hear.”

His honesty surprises you. You can’t imagine how it must’ve been like for him, even more that he has to suffer through this right now in front of you, considering how hard it is for him to express how he feels. You don’t know how bad this weather is gonna go, and at this pace, the thunderstorm will probably reach you by the time you make it back to Seoul. So you do what you do best, and that’s to come up with options.

“There’s a guesthouse not far from here,” you say after checking the map. “It’s the closest one. We could spend the night there and wait out the rain. That’s better than being stuck here or continuing the drive back to the city.”

He nods in agreement, knowing there’s not much he could do. He doesn’t want to be stuck here; even more, he doesn’t want to unload on you nor have you witness how much worse it could be.

He keys in the address you give him while you call the property and ask if they still have available rooms. They do, so you reserve two and sigh in relief that that’s one problem solved.

You make it there in 15 minutes. Jungkook heads out the car first with the rain having eased up a bit, and you retrieve his luggage from the trunk, the one he keeps there for emergency trips and instances like this one. It has enough clothes for a day, and you’re glad that at least he has something to change into.

You make it inside and meet the owners then introduce yourself, stating that you reserved two rooms.

“I’m so sorry but we had to give up one of them,” the woman says. “A family came in with a baby and we couldn’t turn them away. The weather’s going to get worse tonight and we try to accommodate as many people as we can. I hope you understand.”

“That’s… that’s okay,” you say, knowing you would’ve done the same.

The thought of sharing a room with Jungkook feels too intimate and definitely not good for your heart, added to the fact that you’re probably not his favorite person right now, so you try to find a way out. You turn to the living room and see the sofa that’s big enough for you, so you ask if you can just stay there instead.

“Our cleaners will be using that space since they can’t go home due to the rain. I’m sorry again, Miss. Your room has twin beds so I hope that eases your worry somehow.”

“It’s fine, we’ll manage,” Jungkook says from behind you, hoping to the heavens that he will. He has one fear, and that’s you seeing how he really is during times like this.

He takes the key and walks up the stairs to the room you’re given. It’s spacious with a fair enough distance between both beds. He takes the one farther from the window then gets his clothes from his bag. It dawns on him that you don’t have your own with you, so he offers you his sweatshirt.

“It’s okay,” you shake your head. “It’s gonna be cold and you’re gonna need it.”

“So will you. You can’t be in wet clothes, not in this weather.”

“It’s happened before,” you shrug.

“___, just take it,” he insists, placing the item on your bed. “I have a top here that I can wear and the blankets will be enough. This is loose but it’s at least better than damp clothing. And you can go ahead in the bathroom. I’ll just give Mr. Ri a call.”

You nod and head out, taking his jumper and the towel with you. You’re given some basic toiletries, and the warm shower is just what you need for that bit of comfort after a stressful evening. As you’re about to dress up inside, you hear a knock on the door.

“I asked the lady if they had spare pajamas for you and she gave me a set,” Jungkook says from outside. “I’ll leave them on a stool by the door.”

You wait for him to leave before getting them and putting them on. It’s a plain set of shorts and shirt that’s a little big but it’s way better than your damp skirt and blouse, which the owners offered to wash and dry for you for tomorrow.

You return to the room with Jungkook sitting on the floor, and you give him back his sweatshirt that he turns down.

“I’m fine,” he insists. “Don’t you get cold easily? You’ll need that.”

He walks out, barely meeting your eyes. You’re sitting on the edge of your bed when he returns half an hour later, the sight of him with damp hair in black sweatpants and a white sleeveless top doing things to you. But you shake the thoughts away, especially as he once again creates that distance. He doesn’t look at you when he settles in bed, nor when he switches off his bedside light, and definitely not when he turns around to face the other way. You sigh to yourself, feeling even more alone now with him acting like this.

You can’t really blame him though. Dealing with something that elicits painful memories is difficult, and you understand the tendency to isolate yourself and push people away when that happens. It’s what you do sometimes, but still, it doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt you a little when Jungkook does this to you, considering how good your relationship has become, regardless of your stupid attraction.

Settling in your bed, you decide to turn around and face the window. You focus on the droplets creating their own artwork on the glass, in hopes that it’ll help you take your mind off Jungkook, even if he’s literally just a few feet away from you. The last thing you want is a strained relationship, and you hope that this doesn’t make him fall back into his old ways. Although he’s experienced a few stressful moments these past months, they weren’t personal, and you suppose situations like this are when his emotions truly come out.

The rain has gotten stronger again and you’re pleased that Jungkook isn’t awake for this, based on the soft snores you hear. You’re about to fall asleep, the sound hypnotizing you a little, but that’s when the first blare of thunder strikes, causing you to jerk in bed in surprise. It used to scare you because of what it reminded you of, but you learned how to manage it after the first hit; the succeeding ones are no longer triggering. In fact, you just think of how it used to drown out the sounds of what you were truly afraid of.

Just then, you hear distressed moans. The sounds of frantic breathing and shifts on the bed follow right after. And then there’s a restrained groan, like a call for help that doesn’t fully come out, and that’s what alarms you. You immediately get off the bed and rush to Jungkook’s side. You see that he’s still asleep, his body - now uncovered by the blanket - is tense, despite his efforts of turning about. The low sounds of almost-cries convince you that he’s having a nightmare.

Thunder hits once again and it’s much louder this time, eliciting another frantic response from Jungkook. He’s kicking the covers while gripping the sheets, and with another roar of thunder that causes him to scream, that’s when you decide to wake him up.

“Jungkook, hey, listen to me,” you say, sitting on the edge of the bed and keeping his head still with your hands. You’re able to control him as he continues tossing and turning, repeating his name until he slowly opens his eyes. “Hey, you’re safe with me, okay? Just focus on my voice.”

He’s awake now and you see the worry in his eyes, but you talk to him calmly, wanting him to trust you. It works, as he nods and slows down his movements. But he’s still breathing heavily, his lips chattering and the rest of his body shivering.

You anticipate another hit of thunder, and you’re able to shield him from it, pressing your palms on his ears, trying to drown out the sound. You stay that way, thumbing his temples as you tell him it’s okay, that you’ve got him, and that it’ll be over soon. You hold his gaze to let him know that you’re not going anywhere, and his pretty eyes that often look so far away are now overtaken with fear.

“Just look at me, alright? And follow my breathing,” you instruct him, your voice as gentle as you can make it despite your own worries for him.

He does as you say, his hands gripping your wrists as if to keep them there, and you assure him that you won’t let go until he says so.

“You’re doing good, just keep breathing,” you repeat, pacing your breathing with his until you’re doing it together.

You don’t know how long you stay that way, with his head between your hands and your eyes locked on his. It takes a while, but the thunder eventually stops and the rain eases. Jungkook finally calms down and you slowly release him from your hold. You watch him shut his eyes, as if in desperation to let everything go, before he opens them again.

“Is that better?” You ask, moving just a bit farther from him to give him space, but you remain close, wanting to be next to him in case something happens again.

“Yeah, that was, uh… that was tiring,” he huffs.

“I think the thunder has passed but if it happens again, I’ll be here, okay?”

He nods, his soft and desperate eyes now looking at you to express his gratitude. You want so badly to hug him, to hold his still-shaking hands and assure him that he’s not alone, that you won’t let anything hurt him for the rest of the night, and that you understand it all - whatever it is he’s afraid of, and why he keeps it all to himself.

But you suppose that’s going too far. You’re afraid that you’d want to stay there, even more if he doesn’t want you to. So you nod as well and think that he at least has this to comfort him, that he at least knows you’re just there.

You walk back to your bed and lie down, facing him this time. You smile, wanting that assurance to be the last thing he sees before he falls asleep again. Jungkook does the same as he settles under the covers, patting it down so he could see you better. You both stay there, safe in your corners, your eyes telling each other things you can’t say.

Whatever distance you felt earlier has shortened. Right now, with both of you falling asleep to each other’s view, he’s never felt so close.

The morning after heavy rain is always bittersweet. There’s the reality of the damage it caused but you also can’t deny that it gives life to other living things. What it also does is make way for clear skies and give you that fresh, rainwater scent of the grass and the trees. It’s what you see and smell when you open the bedroom windows, reminding you that the evening has passed and the worst is over.

You spot Jungkook seated on one of the chairs in the garden, and you hope that the view is making him feel better, with the nightmare from last night slowly drifting away from his mind. You dress up in the dry clothes you find hanging on the doorknob of the room then head downstairs, surprised to see food prepared in the dining area. The tofu stew and grilled mackerel are so appetizing, and the loud rumbling of your stomach reminds you that you didn’t eat last night, with all the stress making dinner your last priority.

“Hello, dear. It was a pretty hard evening so we prepared something for our guests,” the owner says, her radiant smile reflecting the brightness of the day. “You may call your friend outside so you can both eat and get ready for a long drive home.”

You thank her then call Jungkook, his eyes brightening when he walks back inside and sees the food. He engages in conversation with the owners, asking about this town and the surrounding ones, and what their appeal is to non-residents. You gauge that he’s doing a bit of research himself, and you think he’s at least not too out of it to still do so.

“You’re free to stay until noon,” the owner informs you. “You can enjoy the view outside; it’s really pretty now that the sky has cleared. I’ll be making tea shortly as well.”

Jungkook says he’ll return to the garden and you wait for the hot drinks before following him. You’re unsure if he wants you around but you try, sitting next to him then sighing in relief when he doesn’t move away.

“I was 10 years old when my parents sent me and my brother to a cabin somewhere in Hwasun,” he starts. “I thought they were coming with us but it was just me and Jeong-sik and some staff. He and I never got along. If he wasn’t ignoring me, he was teasing me. But that day, he convinced me to play hide-and-seek, saying that by the time he finds me, our parents would be back. We were outdoors and I ended up wandering too far, so close to the woods that I couldn’t find my way back. My brother hadn’t come and I was getting scared. And then it started to rain.”

“Jungkook, you don’t have to—”

“It started getting stronger and the skies had become so dark, I could barely see anything,” he continues, his eyes fixed towards the mountains faraway. “The rain made the ground slippery so I decided to just sit by a large tree and hope someone would find me. It felt like hours and maybe it was. The thunder was so loud then and it kept going and going and going. And I was drenched and all alone, and no matter how hard I screamed, no one could hear me.”

“I’m so sorry, Jungkook,” you say, feeling your heart break as he narrates a painful memory that you can relate with.

It’s only close to what you experienced yet it feels so real to you. You can feel his fear and his pain in the tremble of his voice, in the way he grips on the edges of the bench, in the way his jaw clenches at the memory, like it’s one he’s tried hard to bury yet can’t get rid of, no matter how hard he tries.

But this feels so personal, and you don’t want him to feel like he needs to share it with you.

“You don’t have to explain,” you add. “I know it’s difficult to share something like that.”

“But I want to,” he responds, turning to you now. “Because I’ve carried the memory with me for 20 years and I’ve been dealing with it all on my own. But that’s not an excuse to treat you the way I did last night. That’s not a reason for me to take it out on you and especially to blame you. That was wrong of me and I’m sorry, ___. I…”

He looks down, perhaps trying to gather the courage he needs to be honest with you, to be vulnerable with you.

“I don’t want you to think that I didn’t need you because I did,” he adds. “I was scared and I didn’t think I needed you but you were there and I’m so sorry.”

You sit there and watch him cower onto himself, and somehow you see the little boy who was scared, who was wondering why he’d been left alone, who was waiting for someone to come find him or perhaps… someone to sit there and be with him until the rain stopped. There’s a lot he carries; there’s also a lot he buries, as if there’s a bottomless hole within him where he keeps everything hidden but it still feels too heavy, too much, taking from him every time he hides something new.

You don’t say anything for a while, as you start to see Jungkook for who he really is. You feel the weight of his words and how much it took for him to say them. It’s not that his experience makes him different, but now that you know the pain he’s been carrying with him, you’re able to see the other parts of him that he’s unable to show, perhaps too afraid that someone wouldn’t understand, or that they wouldn’t stay if they found out why he keeps his distance and why he pushes people away.

Your silence prompts him to look up. You meet his eyes and see the sadness in them and it feels like he needs more than just forgiveness.

“We do things we don’t mean to when we’re afraid,” you tell him. “It doesn’t always mean we intend on hurting them. And I understand that, more than you know. I’ll never take that against you.”

Jungkook nods, shifting again towards the view as he lets your words sink in. He was hoping for forgiveness, but he got so much more. Maybe there’s a reason why you’ve been patient and gentle with him ever since the beginning. Perhaps you’re carrying your own burden and painful memories that you’re unable to share and deal with, too, and though he’s nothing like you, there’s comfort in knowing that you’re the same somehow.

He senses you turn back to look at the mountains, and the silence prompts him to continue the story of an experience he’s only shared twice before - once to his best friends and another time with Chaerin, all of whom have seen this side of him - the scared and vulnerable side. They were understanding and supportive as well, trying to find ways to comfort and help him deal with it. You’re the third and the one he’s known the shortest time, yet he feels more comfort with you than anyone who’s ever tried.

“I fell asleep at that tree while waiting,” he recalls. “The next thing I know, I was being carried back to the cabin. The rain had stopped but it was still dark, and I was tended to until I fell asleep again. I was sick for days and I didn’t see my parents until we were back in Seoul. It’s just a hard thing to remember. I know we have selective memories and I always wish that’s one thing that I don’t ever have to remember but life isn’t that kind, I guess.”

“It isn’t. But we learn to face those fears though, and manage them. It’s the only way we can get through it,” you say.

“Have you?” He asks, wondering if that’s another similarity he shares with you.

“Not really. I wouldn’t be alone and where I am if I have,” you say. “But I’m trying. And I’ll continue to.”

“That makes one of us,” he sighs.

“Well, it’s not always easy if you’re not quite sure what you’re really afraid of,” you respond. “Is it just thunder?”

“Yeah… but once the rain starts, it tells me that thunder could come. It doesn’t always but it’s what my brain tells me. Then I get anxious and I… I don’t know what to do. Like I’m paralyzed and unable to think or move. I just… stay there and sometimes, I don’t even know what’s happening.”

“Well, it rained when I got injured,” you remind him. “But you managed to get me to the hospital. And you stayed with me. That’s definitely something.”

“You were hurt and it was more important that you got treated,” he reasons. “That was scary and I guess my brain told me to get shit done that moment.”

“So… do I always have to be hurt for you to get through the rain when it starts getting bad?” You ask.

“Don’t talk like that. I can’t have you going through that again,” he frowns at you.

The way he reacts to the thought of you being hurt gives you that warm feeling again. But it reminds you that you feel the same. You don’t want him to be scared, you don’t want him hurt, too.

“Fine. But when it starts to rain and you’re all alone and you feel like you can’t manage, you call me, okay?” You tell him.

“And what would that do?”

“That way I can talk you through it. Maybe go to you if you want me to.”

“Why would you do that?”

“Because during the times I was afraid and alone, you were there,” you bravely say, turning to him and prompting him to do the same. “Sometimes something triggers those memories but then I think of how you stayed with me in the alley and in the playground and in my apartment. I think of you and I stop feeling scared. Maybe you can think of last night when it starts to get bad, too. And we can just create more of those memories to override the bad ones. Wouldn’t that be better?”

He savors your words, not realizing how much you’ve held onto your moments together. And he understands that now. The way you held him together last night is ingrained in his mind, and if that’s how it feels to be with you during his darkest moments, he starts to wonder how good it would feel during the good ones.

Maybe he’ll start with this, as you both sip citrus tea while looking at the lush mountains out on the horizon. He’ll continue with the scenic drive back to Seoul and a stopover at a cafe for some iced coffee and conversations about good memories. And at least for today, he’ll end with the sight of you walking to your apartment and then turning around to wave him goodbye, and then your smile giving him warmth on this cold afternoon.

The door shuts and he starts the trip back to his place - empty, lonely, just like how it’s been for years, all his pent up emotions bringing him to this point of isolation. But there’s you - the feel of your touch, the soothing sound of your voice, and the gentleness that got him through the night.

He misses you already. And much as he knows he’s in big trouble, thinking about you and wanting you is all he could do.

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