#jun oneshot

7 AM.

Your phone jolted you awake—Seungcheol’s name flashing on the screen like a warning you weren’t ready for. It wasn’t like him to call this early. Your eyes were still heavy, clinging to the last threads of sleep after last night’s party, the hangover already pounding a relentless rhythm in your skull.

“Seungcheol…” you croaked, voice raw and barely holding on. “What is it…?”

His voice was barely a whisper, as if the words might shatter if spoken too loudly. “Jun needs you.”

Just hearing Jun’s name tightened your chest. He always needed you, and you never had the luxury of saying no. It was like you were tethered to him by invisible threads that pulled taut whenever he fell apart. Your body was screaming to stay buried in blankets, but your heart wouldn’t let you.

“Why? What happened?” You forced your voice steady, though it trembled beneath your control. “Did you fight?”

“No. He won’t say.” Seungcheol’s breath hitched, quiet like he was afraid someone might overhear. “Please… just come. He’s shutting us out again.”

Jun, who usually carried the weight of the world so stoically, crumbled when no one was watching. You’d seen it before: how his emotions tangled like barbed wire inside him, how he let the darkness consume every breath. You hated that you were always the one pulling him back, but you never hesitated.

“Okay.” The words left your lips like a vow, a fragile promise you weren’t sure you could keep but would try anyway. “Keep him there.” You hung up, chest tight and trembling with a mix of exhaustion and dread.

One call. One broken call was all it took to make you forget everything about your own pain and run to him. Maybe you were too fragile, or maybe Jun just had that hold over you—a gravity you couldn’t escape. Either way, you never hesitated when it came to him, even if he never came running when you needed him.

You rushed to the dorm, the cold morning air biting your skin, heart pounding faster than your feet. The boys were already waiting, like you were their only lifeline. Soonyoung, Jun’s roommate, looked like he’d aged years overnight, eyes hollow, bruised with worry. “Finally,” Soonyoung breathed out, his voice hoarse and ragged from exhaustion. “It’s freezing, but I couldn’t stay inside.” Your gaze sharpened. Another night trapped in his own head, another battle you weren’t sure he could win alone. “Did he lock the door? Where’s your key?” He shook his head, slow and weary. “It’s not locked but I won’t dare open it.” And you would. Because no one else dared. Jun’s walls were thick, but you knew every crack, every hidden doorway. Privacy was the last thing on your mind when the thought of him—alone, lost—made your chest ache so badly it felt like it might break. Jun wasn’t the type to hurt himself, but you’d seen how deep his darkness ran, and you weren’t about to wait until it swallowed him whole. Even if you had to break the door yourself. Because no matter how stubborn he was, no matter how much he pushed everyone away, you weren’t going to let him fall—not today. Not ever.

You pushed Jun’s door open slowly, the air in the hallway thick with the members’ muted breaths and restless murmurs. The sight of him hit you like a wave—lying there, fast asleep, as if the world outside his room hadn’t been spinning out of control since last night. Relief washed over you for a fleeting second, but it was quickly swallowed by irritation. “Seriously? You dragged me out of bed for this?” The word left your lips sharper than intended, but the exhaustion in you didn’t care. “He banged his door last night,” someone murmured, “skipped dinner… and hasn’t come out for breakfast.” Now, that was different. Jun missing even a single meal was rare. But two? Something inside him had cracked again. Enough to ignore even the most basic need to eat. You exhaled sharply. “Whatever.” The others stayed rooted in the hallway as you slipped inside. Jun looked nothing like the man who laughed with you yesterday morning. He looked like a ghost wearing his skin. Bad Sleeping Beauty, as you used to call him, was doing what he always did—hiding in dreams instead of facing the day.

If he wouldn’t come out on his own, you’d drag him out. You’d told him a hundred times to take care of himself, to stop letting his own hands be the ones that hurt him most. But every time, he fell back into the same pattern.

“Jun,” You sat down beside him, his back to you, and tapped his shoulder gently. “Hey, Junhui.”

A low grunt. He rolled onto his other side, and now you could see him. Droopy eyes half-shut, lips swollen, dark smudges beneath his eyes like bruises he’d painted on himself.

“Wen Junhui,” You brushed his messy hair away from his face, fingertips lingering just a little too long on his skin. He’s warm and alive. Thank God. His breathing slowed for a second as if trying to memorize the feeling of your touch.

“Hey,” he whispered, eyes opening just enough to make sure you were real. The moment recognition hit, he didn’t say anything else—just gave you a faint, broken smile that felt more like an apology. “You’re here.”

“You need to eat. And we… need to talk.” You kept your voice soft, careful, like one wrong note might break him completely.

His eyes closed again, lashes trembling before he pulled himself upright—only to fold into you, arms wrapping around you like you were the only thing keeping him from falling apart. His face buried in your neck, his breath warm against your skin. You swallowed hard, not because of the closeness, but because it hurt to feel how small he’d become in your arms.

“What took you so long to come here?” His voice was quiet, vibrating against your collarbone. Not crying—but close. The kind of sniffling that meant he’d been holding back for hours.

“Dare ask?” You tried for a smirk, but it felt hollow. “I wouldn’t even be here if Seungcheol didn’t tell me.”

Yesterday morning, you’d talked to him. He’d been fine—teasing you, throwing bad puns just to make you laugh. No sign of this. No sign of the way his voice would break today.

“I just didn’t want to bother you.” He pulled back, leaning against the headboard, eyes locked on you like you were an anchor he didn’t want to lose sight of.

“It bothers me more that you’re not okay,” you said, your voice tighter than you wanted. “They told me you didn’t even eat.”

For all the years you’d known him, Jun had been an open book to you—at least, in ways that mattered. You could read his pain before he spoke. But sometimes, he still made you wait for the words.

“Mikyung’s mad at me again.”

Of course. You didn’t even need to ask, if only out of habit.

“I’m such an awful boyfriend,” he muttered. “I can’t even make her happy. All I do is disappoint her.”

Mikyung. Again. Always her. The same girl who, without fail, managed to turn him into this version of himself—a hollowed-out shell. You hated her for it. Not just for hurting him, but for making you this—his safety net, his fixer, but never his choice.

It shouldn’t hurt as much as it did. But it always did.

“She asked for space this time,” he sighed, like the words were a death sentence.

“Space?” you scoffed. “She might as well apply to NASA. At this rate, she’s halfway to Mars.”

That earned you a faint chuckle, and you clung to it like it was proof he was still here.

“Don’t laugh,” you said, though your lips almost twitched. “I’m serious. If I’d known you’d end up dating an aspiring astronaut, I’d have never told you to skip Environmental Science.”

“Shut up,” he muttered, though there was no bite in it.

“What’s wrong with her? She starts the fight, then plays the victim like it’s her sport.” You didn’t say what you were really thinking—that he deserved so much more than someone whose love was this conditional.

But you knew how this worked. He’d defend her. He always did.

“I don’t want us to break up.” You wanted to tell him that maybe he should. That maybe that would save him. Save you. But you couldn’t. You wouldn’t. Not when he looked like this. “I’m sorry I had to bother you for this. I know you don’t like interfering…” he began.

You cut him off. “Junhui, the moment you started dating her, I’ve been interfering. Whether I liked it or not.”

He smiled, that soft, tired smile, before pulling you into another hug. You wished he wouldn’t. Not when it made it harder to breathe.

“Thank you,” he whispered. “You’re the best friend I could ever have. I’m so lucky. I love you so much.”

It could have been beautiful. But love and friend in the same sentence? It was a knife with a polite smile.

“Tell me something I don’t know,” you murmured, voice flat, hiding the sting. “Come on. Let’s get you something to eat.”

You weren’t numb to this. You never would be. You just knew the rhythm by heart now—fight, fall apart, you patch him back together, he runs back to her, and you’re left holding the pieces of yourself you broke in the process.

You didn’t like pain. You just loved him enough to take it.

Mikyung’s the alpha. You’re the omega.

Whatever you do, she’s always steps ahead of you.

Like a typhoon that wrecks everything in its path, their relationship eventually calmed — and just like every time, it came back stronger. And just like every time, you were shoved back into your original place. As the irrelevant sidekick. The extra in their romance movie. A character with no real ending… at least, not in this story. Not in their story.

Still, you play your role well, because maybe this is the only role you’ll ever have in Jun’s life. And if it means staying beside him — even in the dark — you’ll take it.

“Jun’s so dumb.” Wonwoo’s voice cut through the quiet. He sat beside you on the veranda, two cans of beer in his hands. Down below, you could see Jun, smiling so brightly you almost didn’t recognize the boy who’d locked himself in his room days ago. His hand brushed against his girlfriend’s, their laughter carrying in the air.

“You won’t become a saint from being a martyr of love.” Wonwoo cracked open a can and held it out to you.

“Thanks.” You took it, though you had no plans of drowning yourself in daylight. Maybe a sip. Maybe enough to wash down the bitter sting in your chest. “Good thing I’m not dreaming to be a saint.”

“Why do you even put up with this? It’s obviously killing you.”

You didn’t answer right away. It wasn’t something people could understand, and explaining it meant opening wounds you’d rather keep hidden.

“I’m returning a favor,” you said finally, forcing a smile that didn’t reach your eyes. “I owe Junhui a lot. I can’t just leave him because of… my own feelings.”

“Feels more like he owes you,” Wonwoo muttered.

You didn’t reply. He didn’t know the whole story — the airport seven years ago, the way Jun had been your first friend when you came to Korea, the way your lives had tangled together ever since. Jun was a way too big part of your history to cut out now.

You took another sip, the bitterness of the beer starting to match the curve of your smile. “I only have him… even if he has her.”

Wonwoo didn’t push. He just stayed, quietly keeping you company. The members all knew — maybe even more than Jun did. They’d seen you broken more often than they’d seen you happy. They didn’t need you to say it; they could read it in the way your smile faltered when she was around.

The next few days tore at you. Your parents fighting over a video call. Exams and deadlines pressing down until you could barely breathe. Headaches every morning that refused to leave. One thing after another — until this week felt like the worst you’d lived through.

But you had Jun. You always had Jun. Or so you thought.

When you walked into his room, already rehearsing the words you needed to spill just to feel lighter, his first words weren’t hi or how are you.

“I think she’s really breaking up with me. For real this time.”

You froze. How could you start unloading when he looked so shattered?

“If she asked for space again, then just… give it,” you muttered, voice flat, because you had no energy left to fake warmth.

“No, no, it’s different this time.” He shook his head, pacing like a restless child. “She admitted she was wrong. She even said sorry.”

“That’s… good then,” you offered weakly, your lips twitching into a smile you didn’t mean.

“But now she won’t talk to me! Even after I forgave her!” He finally dropped beside you on the bed, eyes searching yours, waiting for the magic advice you always had.

“Maybe you both just need time,” you said quietly. Ironic — giving him the very excuse you hated hearing from her.

His brows furrowed. “It’s been weeks. We’ve never been like this for so long.”

You wanted to tell him you didn’t have the capacity for this conversation. That you were hanging by a thread yourself. But he kept talking, and you just sat there, nodding at the right moments, tossing out generic responses that barely stuck to the air.

And then, the ugly truth hit you — it wasn’t the heartbreak over her that hurt most. It was the way he could look at you and not see you at all.

“Junhui…” You said his name more seriously than you’d meant to, hoping it would pull his eyes to yours. In your head, the words were desperate: I’m having a hard time too. Can you just listen? Just this once?

But they never made it out.

“I… I have a report to finish tonight. I have to go.”

His face fell, confusion flickering there. “But… we haven’t seen each other in almost a week ‘cause of that same reason…” His tone was small, almost sulky, like a kid who didn’t understand why their playmate was leaving.

“I’m sorry. You’ll be fine, I promise.”

You cut him off with a practiced smile, ignoring how your chest ached. He pulled you into a hug, and you let him — for two seconds — before pulling away. You patted his shoulder, murmured a soft “I’ll see you soon,” and left.

The members caught the sheen in your eyes before the tears could fall. They didn’t say anything, but their silence was loud.

They’d seen this cycle too many times, you showing up for him, no matter what; her breaking him down, over and over; him taking you for granted without realizing the damage he was doing.

And they all knew — one day, you’d break. You’d stop coming back. And they could only hope that before that day came, Jun would finally look up and see what’s been right in front of him all along.

You.

Always you.

Days passed, and the knot in your chest only tightened.

You didn’t see Jun — even after you said you would. You didn’t text. You didn’t call. Because you knew if you approached him now, it would be halfhearted. And if there was one thing you refused to do in this friendship, it was to give him less than your whole heart.

But the worst part? He didn’t reach out either.

You had reasons for avoiding him. He… had none. Or maybe he just didn’t care enough to have any. That truth sat like a stone in your stomach. You’d always known you weren’t his priority — not when she was around. But knowing and feeling it were different things.

When she was there, you were invisible.

When they fought, suddenly you existed again.

“Jun hyung, just say sorry. She’s not that hard to please,” Chan said lazily, thumbs tapping on his phone, half-sprawled across Jun’s bed. Soonyoung was next to him, equally loud in their game. “Hoshi hyung! Stop shooting me, we’re allies!”

Jun let out a frustrated sigh. “I already did. Over and over. Still not enough.” His phone screen was lit with unanswered messages. Calls gone to voicemail.

“What about food? Girls like that. She’s not into flowers, right?” Chan glanced up, only to scowl when his character died. “Hyung, you killed me!”

“She loves flowers,” Jun replied distractedly.

“Chan, Jun’s talking about his girlfriend,” Soonyoung said, tone sharp with a quiet meaning Chan missed. “Not… his girl best friend.”

“Oh. I’ve always liked the girl best friend better,” Chan muttered under his breath, already restarting his game.

“Same,” Soonyoung said without looking up, rolling onto the bed beside Jun. The truth was unspoken but heavy — the members all thought you were better for him. Not because you were his best friend, but because anyone could see it.

“Jun, I think you should fix things with Y/N first,” Soonyoung added.

“Why? We’re fine.” Jun’s tone was defensive, like the idea itself was absurd.

“Are you sure?” Soonyoung tilted his head, finally meeting his eyes. “Because she hasn’t been around lately.”

The thought clearly caught Jun off guard. Now that it was mentioned… he realized you hadn’t been showing up. You rarely replied when he texted — and when you did, it was curt, always about school, sometimes hours or days late. But he’d just assumed you were busy.

“I don’t know… is something wrong with her?” he asked, almost to himself.

“So if I didn’t tell you, you wouldn’t even notice?” Soonyoung’s voice hardened, a rare edge cutting through his usual easygoing tone. He didn’t like getting involved, but this… this was different. He’d seen the way you gave everything to Jun, even when it drained you. And he’d seen the way Jun took it without thinking twice.

“You really are taking her for granted,” he said plainly. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you lose her.”

Jun frowned, annoyed. “Lose her? Don’t be ridiculous. If there’s anyone who’d never leave me, it’s her.”

Soonyoung let out a small, humorless laugh. “Yeah. If you’re that sure,”

Jun stayed quiet, confident in his own words.

But Soonyoung kept his gaze on him, unblinking. “I hope you’re right, Jun. For your sake.”

You kept yourself busy.

You thought burying your own mess before coming back into Jun’s orbit would give you time to breathe—but it didn’t. If anything, his presence now only deepens the loneliness until it swallows you whole. And instead of going home tonight, you find yourself in the nearest bar, chasing oblivion in shot glasses. Drinking has become your refuge this past week—your only rebellion—and no one will, or can, stop you from drowning yourself.

You still don’t know why you expect so much from Jun. Maybe because once—before Mikyung—you were the first person he ran to. But ever since the day she stepped into his life, you’ve known: you’re no longer the priority. You’ve tried to survive away from him, but being around him used to feel better. It used to feel like home.

Being with him is supposed to make you feel safe, but every time he opens his mouth, he makes you bleed with her name. All the small glances, all the little inside jokes, all the good memories you clung to—eaten alive by something stronger than your friendship. And you can’t fight it. You’ve endured for so long, like a fool, but tonight you decide you’ll save whatever’s left of yourself. Jun has twelve other members to lean on, plus Mikyung. You have no one but yourself.

One shot of tequila is one fragile sliver of hope—that maybe one day you’ll get over him, that you’ll go back to being the “best friend” you’re supposed to be. But you already know it’s not that simple.

A hand taps your shoulder.

“Hey.”

“Oh… Hao.” You manage a small wave, a weak chuckle. He sits beside you, leaning against the bar to get a good look at you. His lips click in disappointment, head shaking at the glassy blur in your eyes.

“Damn, you’re drunk.” He snatches your glass and sniffs it. “Tequila… Alone? I remember Jun said you weren’t allowed to drink this by yourself. Is he with you?”

“Nah. No.” You steal it back and down it in one go, burning your throat and forcing a bitter smile. “He’s probably out chasing his girlfriend. As usual.” You laugh, but it’s so hollow it echoes inside your chest.

“Small fight?”

“I wouldn’t know… haven’t been updated.” You’re not even sure if you’re speaking from your mouth or your heart anymore. The alcohol makes everything slippery.

“I meant—you and Jun.”

You look at him, but his face is unreadable. A sharp pain spears through your skull, and you shut your eyes, pressing your temples until it dulls. It fades quickly—unlike the ache in your chest that never lets you go.

“Jun and I? We’re fine. We’re Perfect. Smooth as glass.”

“Yeah? Because when you walked out of his room the last time, the whole dorm went silent. They still talk about it. Because you’ve never visited since.”

You didn’t realize the others noticed. You thought your absence would be invisible. You were supposed to come back eventually—smiling, pretending nothing happened, pretending you weren’t bleeding out inside. It would have been nice if Jun noticed like they did.

“I’m just busy. Don’t think too much.” You wave him off with a forced smile, but Minghao’s eyes don’t soften.

“Misunderstandings don’t happen with you two. Jun doesn’t function without you.”

You laugh bitterly. “He’s doing just fine without me.”

You pour another shot, wishing the burn could wash away your bitterness. But the more you drink, the sharper it gets. Alcohol doesn’t erase the truth—it magnifies it. Every drop in the glass tastes like every day you’ve spent loving him in silence.

You’d always believed that if you waited long enough, he’d see you. That maybe, one day, he’d wake up and realize he didn’t need her—that he loved you back. But years have passed, and he’s still running in the opposite direction. And you’re stuck here, trapped by the hope you built for yourself.

“It’s so obvious, you’re in love with him. You’re just too scared.”

Minghao’s words cut clean. Normally, he’s careful, but the alcohol’s stripped the filter away. You hate that he’s right. You are scared—scared of losing him completely to some reckless confession. “He’s a receiver. If you want him to know, you have to tell him.”

“We’re best friends.” You spit it out like it’s the ultimate truth.

“And so?” His voice hardens. This isn’t a drama he wants to watch play out in circles.

“He has a girlfriend. And they’re happy. I know, because I was there.”

You were always there.

There when he laughed with her, fingers laced together.

There when he twirled her under the afternoon sun.

There when he whispered love under a star-choked sky and kissed her like she was his only world.

Every scene carved you open. Every kiss tore deeper.

She is the beginning of his joy— the alpha.

You are the graveyard of his pain— the omega.

“But is he truly… happy?” Minghao’s voice snaps you back.

“I don’t know, Hao. Don’t— my head already hurts.” You rub your temples, but it’s not only your head that aches. “I just… I just hope he’s happy. That’s enough for me.”

“No. It’s not supposed to be enough. What if you could make him happier?”

“Of course I can. I’m his best friend.” You’re almost shouting it now, like it’s some sacred badge that will make him stop.

“Stop hiding behind that card.” His tone is sharp now, almost mocking. “Both of you are trapped in that wall. If you love him, tell him. At least you won’t have to live with the what ifs.”

“And then what? Let him shatter me completely? No, thanks.” You shake your head, swallowing the lump in your throat. “I’d rather keep him this way than lose him entirely.”

“So this isn’t shattering you?” His laugh is short, humorless.

You don’t answer. Because you both know it is.

That night, Minghao takes you to the other dorm— not Jun’s. You’re both drunk, but he doesn’t trust you to face Jun in this state. He gives you his bed, dragging Mingyu out without a word. The next day, he explains everything to the others, making them promise not to tell Jun. And they don’t—because you wouldn’t want him to know. Not like this.

The next day, you woke up to a hammering headache, your throat scorched and your reflection in the mirror a cruel reminder of how wrecked you looked. Voices murmured from outside — the other dorm. The memories of last night hit you like a punch to the gut.

The door creaked open, and you squinted through the haze of light that stabbed your eyes.

“Good morning, drunkard.” Minghao’s voice broke through, rough but somehow gentle as he threw the curtains wide. You flinched, rolling onto your back to escape the blinding sun.

You barely managed a weak, “Morning.”

“I didn’t tell Jun that you’re here but he’ll come later. Eat something first, Mingyu made breakfast.” His tone was that of a worried parent, and you didn’t have the energy to argue.

“Thanks, Hao.” You tried to sound normal, but your voice cracked like dry earth.

You didn’t eat. You washed up mechanically, slipped on the same clothes, tugged Minghao’s hoodie over your trembling frame, he was kind enough to lend you, and muttered your goodbyes. They pleaded you to stay for breakfast, but your appetite was lost to exhaustion. You just wanted to crawl into your own bed and disappear.

You sat by the dorm door, struggling with your shoes when it swung open — and there he was. The one you’d been running from.

Minghao said Jun would come for lunch, but something must’ve gone wrong because here he was, in the middle of breakfast chaos, a spoon halfway to his mouth, eyes wide when he saw you. The members peeked over, whispers rippling through the room. Seungcheol’s expression tightened. He backed away, leaving you alone with Jun.

Jun’s gaze flicked to Minghao then back to you, the hoodie—his hoodie. A storm cloud gathering behind his eyes. And then, a sharp, unfamiliar twist of feeling struck him—an ache he hadn’t known before. Up until now, he had only ever been your best friend, the person he always leaned on, the one constant in his life. Seeing you with Minghao, seeing you in someone else’s presence, made him realize you could belong to someone else, and he was powerless to stop it. The thought twisted painfully: he wasn’t enough, not even as your closest friend, and it scared him. He opened his mouth to say something, but instead, stormed out with you trailing, his hand tight on yours.

You tried to pull away from his grip, but it only tightened—pain began blooming.

“You’re hurting me.”

That sharp realization seemed to snap him out of whatever fury had possessed him, and he immediately loosened his hold. Guilt and a strange ache clawed at his chest. He hated that pang—the knowledge that even as your best friend, he couldn’t keep you from slipping into someone else’s life.

“Shit, I’m sorry!” His voice was raw, full of regret and something like desperation. He wanted to pull you close, to remind you that he was here, your best friend—but he couldn’t stop the fear that it might not be enough anymore. You started walking away, almost laughing bitterly at his frantic apology — none of it felt real. He chased after you. “Wait, please. Let’s talk.”

There was nothing left to say, and your head throbbed like it would split apart any second. But Jun wouldn’t relent. The thought of losing you—not just physically but emotionally, to someone else—tightened his chest like iron. He had only ever been your best friend, and now the idea that that alone might not matter was unbearable. He needed answers—because the last time he saw you was a ghost of what you used to be. Because the sight of you, so broken and vulnerable, stirred something he couldn’t name.

You pulled your hood over your face, knotting the drawstrings tight, desperate to hide. You thought you might be ready for this conversation, but standing here, with him breathing so close, you knew you weren’t.

“Come on. Stop ignoring me. What the hell is all this?” His hands gripped your shoulders, spinning you around. Your eyes stayed downcast, hidden by the shadow of the hood, but the tears came anyway—hot, unbidden.

Jun’s fingers brushed your cheek as he pulled the hood back. His hands trembled when they found your tears, and for a moment, all the anger drained from his face, replaced by quiet shock. He lifted your chin gently, revealing your swollen, tear-streaked face. You looked so lost, so painfully broken.

He reached up to wipe the tears away, sleeves wet from your sobs, but the flood didn’t stop. His touch was a lifeline — comforting, grounding — and you wanted to collapse into it, to let him fix all this. But you couldn’t. You had to fight it back, step away before the fragile dam broke completely.

“Minghao did this to you?” The thought hit him like a knife twisting in his chest. His fists clenched instinctively, but he held himself back as you shook your head so hard it hurt.

“No... it’s not him.” Your voice cracked, barely a whisper. “It’s just me.”

Jun’s confusion and pain bled into his words. “I didn’t even know you and him were together.” His voice faltered, anger and hurt tangled. “And this is how I find you? Like this?”

“We’re not together.” You forced the words out through trembling lips, tears still falling freely.

Jun’s face darkened, hurt twisting into frustration. “That would be convincing if you weren’t in his clothes. Is this a one-time thing? Is that why you’re crying?” The fury in his voice was as much at himself as at Minghao. “I swear I’ll beat him to death if he hurt you.”

“Jun, please. Minghao helped me.” You swallowed your shame and exhaustion. “I just want to be left alone right now. Please.”

His hands slowly unclenched, the storm in his eyes dimming, replaced by a raw, aching vulnerability.

“That’s it? You know, I spent days looking for you. Days. Only to find you two floors below me, with him. And now you’re standing here, shattered, and won’t even tell me why.” His voice cracked, the edge gone. “I want to help you. Why are we even best friends if you shut me out like this?”

You looked at him—really looked at him—for the first time since he appeared. The pain etched into his face was unbearable. You hated yourself for hurting him, for being so broken, for not knowing how to fix this.

“Exactly. We’re just friends. Friends listen, but if the other person doesn’t want to talk, you respect it. I’ve respected every choice you made, even if it was painful for me. Now please, just leave me be.”

It was worse than any breakup.

Jun always thought fights with his girlfriend cut deep. But this—this silence and distance with you, the person he trusted most—was agony multiplied. There was no one else he wanted to lean on. No advice mattered more than yours. No presence soothed him like yours.

Because there was no one he trusted more than you.

And you, in this moment, felt like you were breaking apart in a world where he was the only anchor slipping from your grasp.

You avoided him since that confrontation. You tried—hard—not to see him, even though he was reaching out. His calls and messages, even brief appearances near your usual hangouts with the boys— you looked the other way every single time. It wasn’t that you didn’t care; it was just easier to keep your distance than to face the tangled mess between you two.

You convinced yourself that space was what you needed. Maybe it would heal the confusion, or maybe it would dull the pain. Either way, you couldn’t handle another conversation, not yet—not until you were ready.

Then suddenly, your phone rang, slicing through the silence like a knife.

"Noona! I need your help. Jun hyung,.." You froze as you heard Seungkwan's panicked voice over the phone. Your heart reached your throat from its strong pounding.

“What happened?” Your voice barely held together. You didn’t want to know—because the thought alone made your stomach churn—but you had to help. You had to.

“He… it’s…” Seungkwan’s words faltered, swallowed by his shaking breath. You gritted your teeth, scrambling to your feet, grabbing the nearest hoodie to throw over your pajamas. “Noona,—”

“Seungkwan, calm down!” You snapped, voice rising despite yourself. “What’s wrong with him?!”

There was a pause, the sound of Seungkwan struggling for air shaking your whole body. “I don’t know! His mouth’s bubbling, and I—please, just come!”

You didn’t hesitate. You bolted out the door, heart pounding deafeningly. “You should’ve called an ambulance! Who’s with you?”

“It’s just me and Hansol. The others aren’t answering—no one’s here!” His voice cracked and your breath caught.

You willed yourself to stay steady, but inside you were breaking. “I’m on my way. Don’t hang up.”

The elevator ride was an agony—your shaking fingers slammed every button, as if speed could fix this. When the doors opened, you sprinted out and caught a cab without a second thought.

“Junhui,” you whispered, tears blurring your vision. What if Jun intentionally hurt himself? What if it’s because you’d failed him as a friend, his only anchor when everything fell apart?

Arriving breathless at their building, you raced to the elevator, your limbs trembling uncontrollably. The wait felt endless. Finally, you hit their floor button and flew down the hallway to their door.

It was ajar, the silence inside suffocating.

“Seungkwan?” Your voice trembled in the heavy quiet. No cries, no panic—just stillness. “Junhui?” You pushed the door open, heart pounding in your ears, searching frantically.

A familiar shuffle from the kitchen made you spin around.

“You’re here?” Jun appeared. True enough, bubbles spilling from his mouth because he was brushing his teeth. Your heart dropped.

You stared at him, wide-eyed and shaking. “What… what happened?”

He swallowed the foam, staring at you like you were a ghost. “Are you okay? You look like hell.” His gaze swept over your disheveled clothes, your shaking hands.

You barely managed a nod, your hands gripping his face like a lifeline, searching for the damage you’d imagined. “No, you’re okay?”

Jun blinked, confused but amused. “Not exactly. But you… You look like you ran a marathon in your pajamas.”

You exhaled slowly. And then it hit you—slowly, cruelly. Fuck. You’d been played. Scammed. By Boo Seungkwan. You sank down onto your spot, face buried in your palms as the tension finally broke and tears spilled over.

“Fuck, Seungkwan!” you gasped, voice trembling. Relief washed over you like a tidal wave, but it was tangled with anger—and shame. You had really thought Jun had poisoned himself. You’d almost blamed yourself for not being there.

Jun knelt before you, trying to catch your gaze. His hands lifted, hesitated, then fell back. He could tell you weren’t really okay. Maybe you didn’t want him touching you right now.

“Seungkwan! I swear I’m going to kill him!” Your sobs broke the silence like glass. “He said your mouth was bubbling and I thought you—"

Jun’s eyes widened, but a slow grin spread across his face. “He said that? Really?”

You glared at him through tears. “Why would you guys joke about that? It’s not funny at all!” Your voice cracked. “I ran here in slippers and sweatpants, thinking I was about to bury my best friend... and then—nothing, no Seungkwan, and you laughing like this is some fucking joke!”

Jun collapsed onto the floor, laughter shaking his shoulders. You shot him a sharp look, and he stopped briefly, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “Sorry. It’s just… funny how you actually thought I’d kill myself.”

You knocked his forehead lightly, and he winced. Your eyes were exhausted, but the tears kept coming. “You idiot. Did you even hear how Seungkwan sounded? He was panicked. He almost gave me a heart attack.”

Jun’s laughter softened into a fond, teasing smile. “Okay, okay, I’ll stop. But honestly... I thought you didn’t care about me anymore.” Your chest tightened. “You only came running because of Seungkwan’s prank. If not for that, I doubt you’d have looked for me.”

Jun’s smile faltered, his eyes darkening with something like regret. He thought back to that day at Minghao’s unit—the unease that had struck him, the moment he realized that, even as his best friend, you could like someone else.… it had hit him differently than anything before—and that the thought stirred something protective, possessive, and unfamiliar in his chest.

“And why should I always be the one to come to you? Why is it always me reaching out? I need space too.” The walls you’d built weren’t meant to keep him out, but even the closest people sometimes need distance.

“I know,” Jun said quietly. “I should’ve realized sooner. I must have been a burden.”

“That’s not what I meant—I…” You shook your head, feeling your defenses crumble faster than you wanted. “I’m always here. But how can I comfort you if I can’t even comfort myself?”

He sighed, voice soft and honest. “I don’t really need words. I just want you to stay. Even if you don’t say anything, just being there is enough. If anything... I just miss you.”

The truth hung between you—raw and fragile. And in that silence, Jun’s heart raced. He was starting to see it—how much you actually cared for him, not just as a friend, but more. The thought made his chest tighten, a mix of awe and disbelief.

There were so many things he wanted to share—his cat, a new favorite café, the breakup—things he wished he could say when you were apart. He missed the simple moments, the easy conversations, the closeness you once had.

“When I broke up with Mikyung... and you weren’t there... I was emptier. It would have hurt less if you were around. Even if you talked nonstop or not at all.”

You blinked, stunned.

“You broke up?”

You hadn’t known. Not from him, not from anyone.

“Yeah. It’s about time. I don’t think I ever really loved her. Maybe I only loved the idea of being in love...”

Your breath caught, confusion swirling inside you.

Jun looked at you, a soft, almost puzzled smile touching his lips. “I didn’t realize it before, but it can’t be love for her when I felt emptier being without you than without her.”

His heart skipped. He realized he hadn’t just missed your presence—he’d missed you, and now he could see that you felt the same pull toward him. A warmth spread through him, a mix of relief and wonder. You liked him, too. You actually liked him.

You bit your lip, overwhelmed.

He shrugged, searching for the right words. Then he reached out, gently brushing a stray hair from your face. The silence thickened, your heart pounding as you tried to process what he was saying.

“Are you still mad at me?” Jun asked quietly. “I heard from the others... about everything.”

You shook your head, tears spilling silently.

“I wasn’t mad. I just needed time.”

“I also heard from them—accidentally—about how you feel about me. Is it true?” His voice was soft, almost hesitant. “That you like me? Like... more than a friend?”

You wanted to deny it, to act tough, but your voice failed you.

“I wasn’t planning to tell you. But it hurts not to.”

Jun’s stomach flipped. The words confirmed what he’d already begun to sense. And it hit him like sunlight breaking through clouds: this wasn’t one-sided. You wanted him too.

Slowly, he wrapped his arms around you. You froze, heart hammering so loudly you thought he’d hear it.

“God, my best friend really does love me,” he murmured.

Your voice was barely a whisper. “Of course I do. We’re best friends.”

You blinked, caught between embarrassment and something deeper.

“You’re terrible at lying,” he whispered. “You love me more than that.”

His arms tightened around you until it was hard to breathe, your hearts beating in painful sync. And in that moment, Jun realized just how lucky he was—not only did he love you, but you loved him back. It was more than he could have ever dared hope for.

Jun smiled warmly. “I feel the same. I’m sorry I didn’t see it sooner. I’m so dumb for only just figuring out how much you actually mean to me. I’m in love with you.”

He leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to your lips. You gasped, hands flying to your mouth, eyes wide. “Junhui!”

“So... is it weird if I ask you to be my girlfriend now?” he grinned, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Tears fell freely as you clung to him, burying your face in his chest.

“It doesn’t matter. But you have to ask if you want to know if I’d say yes,” you whispered, smiling into his warmth, stunned but happy.

The alpha left, but the omega stayed. Sometimes it’s not how the journey starts, but who’s waiting at the end.

And it’s always been you.

Ji Jaekyung, the prime minister, had quietly forged an alliance with a rival syndicate in South China. Betrayal was something Jun’s father could never tolerate, and he had ordered his son to ‘take care of it.’ But Ji Jaekyung was a cautious man, his daughter a carefully guarded secret. No photographs, no public appearances—she was a ghost even in this hyperconnected country. Yet Jun had his ways.

A single bank account—the one receiving regular transfers from Jaekyung—had led Jun to her. A small apartment in a quiet neighborhood, nothing extravagant, almost too ordinary. Tonight, he stood across the street, watching through the café window. She was there, laughing, her short hair framing her face, eyes crinkling with joy as she spoke with someone—a boyfriend, perhaps? That would make things more interesting.

Jun’s gaze lingered, a strange pang tugging at his chest. He hadn’t expected this—hadn’t expected to feel anything at all. But there was something familiar about the sight of this city, a memory buried beneath years of distance.

Back in his hotel room, the city lights spilled through the tall glass windows, casting a cool glow. He should be focused, preparing his men for tomorrow's briefing, but his mind refused to stay on task. His thoughts wandered, retracing old memories of this city—the late-night walks, the crowded markets, the warm, humid summers.

And most of all, the girl he met one summer night. You.

He hadn’t thought of you in years, and yet now, in this familiar city, the memory of you felt too close, too vivid. The taste of yout laughter, the warmth of your touch—it all rushed back with a force he hadn’t anticipated.

But that was then. This was now.

Tomorrow, he would have to forget sentiment. His father had given him an order, and sentiment had no place in this world.

Jun woke up in the morning with a dull ache of desire, a boner—one night in Seoul, and already his dreams were haunted by memories of you. He sighed, glancing down at the unmistakable evidence of his thoughts. His hand reached for his phone, fingers dialing quickly.

"I’ll be late for the meeting," he informed his men, voice steady despite the heat pooling in his chest. "Something urgent to take care of. Very healthy, I assure you."

He leaned back against the pillows, letting his mind wander. "Y/n…" he whispered, the name a ghost on his lips. Memories rushed in uninvited—one summer night in college, the first time he saw you.

It was the beginning of summer break. Jun and his friends had decided to blow off steam at an arcade. The place was alive with flashing lights and laughter, but nothing captured his attention like the girl on the dance game platform. Long hair swaying, laughter bright and infectious, you danced with a carefree joy that seemed to pull all eyes toward you.

"This is Y/n," one of his friends had introduced, nudging him. "She’s an art student."

Art student—that explained the wild creativity in your movements, the way you painted the air with every step. But what lingered most was your scent, a subtle sweetness that seemed to linger even when you weren’t near, an intoxicating memory.

One date became two, then three, and soon, he found you in his bed, bare and vulnerable, the world beyond those sheets forgotten. For the first time, Jun felt himself attach to someone—truly, dangerously. And it was you.

You held him with a warmth and softness no one else could replace—a touch that seemed to whisper comfort, a presence that wrapped around him even in the coldest of nights. If he ever met you again, he would make sure you knew that nobody else had ever taken your place. But there was one problem—he didn’t know if he would ever meet you again.

"Y/n, where are you?"

*

Jun waited in the shadowed corner of an old, abandoned building, its peeling walls and broken windows a testament to forgotten days. His fingers drummed lightly against the worn leather of the chair’s armrest, impatience simmering beneath his calm exterior. His people were on their way, and they had clear instructions.

"Bring her alive. Don’t you dare touch her," Jun had ordered, voice cold and precise. At least not before he arrived. Killing her immediately would be such a waste. There was so much potential—so many ways she could be useful. And if there was one thing his father valued, it was Jun’s efficiency. He never wasted anything. He never left a trace.

The creak of the rusty door pulled him from his thoughts. Jun stood as three men entered, one carrying a figure slung over his shoulder like a sack of rice—unconscious, her limbs hanging limply.

"Money first, then we’ll hand her over," one of the men demanded, his voice gruff.

Jun’s gaze slid to his right, where Minghao stood with a quiet, composed demeanor. A silent nod from Minghao, and Jun gestured for the money to be handed over. One of the men seized the briefcase, snapping it open and greedily flipping through the crisp bills.

They set the girl down on a dusty chair, her head lolling forward, long dark hair cascading over her face. But as Jun stepped forward, a chill ran down his spine. Something was wrong.

"Are you sure this is the right girl?" Jun’s voice was sharp, a sliver of suspicion threading through his usual calm.

"She's the only one there," one of the men replied, barely looking up. "Exactly where you told us."

Jun’s jaw tightened. The girl he had seen last night had shoulder-length hair. This one… He reached out, brushing a few strands aside—and his world seemed to freeze.

Familiar features stared back at him, pale and unconscious but unmistakable.

"Y/n…" he whispered, the name escaping him like a secret he had tried to bury.

Ji Y/n. His ex-girlfriend. The woman who had vanished from his life six years ago.

"What’s wrong, boss?" Minghao’s voice cut through the tension, but Jun barely heard it.

His chest tightened, a storm of emotions crashing against his resolve—shock, confusion, and something he didn’t dare name.

He forced a steady breath, eyes never leaving your face. "We’re going to stay here longer than expected," he murmured, his voice betraying none of the chaos inside.

*

The drive back to his hotel was tense and silent, the hum of the city outside muted by the weight of his thoughts. In the back seat, you lay slumped against the leather, still unconscious, your chest rising and falling with a steady rhythm—a reminder that this was real. That you were real.

Once inside his suite, Jun dismissed his men, locking the door behind him. He stood there for a moment, staring at your figure on the king-sized bed, trying to process the chaos in his mind.

Six years. Six years of unanswered questions, of searching without knowing he was searching. And now, you were here. But why? How?

Stepping closer, he leaned over you, his hand brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. The softness of your skin was the same, the gentle curve of your lips unchanged. Memories threatened to overwhelm him—the laughter you shared, the nights tangled in each other’s warmth, and the sudden, aching emptiness when you disappeared.

His jaw clenched. He needed answers, but he wouldn’t get any while you were unconscious.

He turned away, forcing himself to think logically. First, he needed to make sure you were unharmed. Jun grabbed a damp towel, gently wiping away the faint traces of dirt on your cheek. Your breathing remained steady, your pulse calm beneath his fingertips.

But who were you now? What had brought you to this dangerous world? Are you the daughter of Ji Jaekyung?

Jun leaned back against the wall, his gaze never leaving you. For now, he would wait. Because the moment you opened your eyes, he would demand every answer you owed him.

Morning light filtered through the hotel’s thick curtains when you finally stirred, your head pounding, ears ringing. A dull ache spread through your body as consciousness returned in fragments. Flashes of memory hit you—the door of your apartment bursting open, three towering men storming in. You thought it was Jena, your friend, coming by. But then rough hands grabbed you, muffled your screams, and darkness swallowed you.

A familiar voice pulled you from the fog of confusion.

"Awake already?"

You blinked, eyes adjusting to the bright room. Clean sheets, a spacious layout—luxury everywhere. Panic tightened in your chest until your gaze landed on the figure leaning casually against the wall.

"Moon Junhui…" you whispered, disbelief lacing your voice.

A faint smile played on his lips. "So you do remember me."

You pushed yourself up on the bed, the silk sheets slipping from your shoulders. "Where am I? What is this—"

"A hotel room. My hotel room." He stepped closer, leaning against the desk, arms crossed over his chest, an unsettling calm in his eyes. "Relax. You’re not going anywhere… yet."

Silence thickened between you, tension simmering beneath the surface.

"What is Ji Jaekyung to you?" Jun’s question cut through the air.

You frowned, your heart pounding faster. "What’s wrong with him?"

"So, he’s not your father?"

You hesitated, then nodded slowly. "He… he is my father."

Jun’s gaze sharpened, a dangerous curiosity in his eyes. "You don’t sound so sure. Your father passed away when you were sixteen, Y/n. So tell me… which one is a lie?"

Your breath hitched, the truth clawing at your throat. Six years of running, hiding, trying to forget. And now you were trapped—trapped in a room with the one person you never thought you’d see again. The one you once loved… and you tried to hate.

He moved toward you, and you instinctively scooted back, your back pressing against the headboard. But before you could retreat further, his hand caught your wrist—not harshly, but firmly.

"Relax," he murmured, his gaze dropping to your arm, where a faint blueish mark had begun to form.

Jun’s eyes darkened. "Why would you defend yourself against men twice your size?" His thumb traced the bruise lightly, his touch almost gentle despite the situation.

You didn’t answer, your throat tight, a mix of fear and stubborn pride keeping you silent.

Jun sighed, pulling out his phone and calling for room service, his tone cold and commanding. "Bring a first aid kit. Now."

But as he ended the call, his gaze lingered on you—intense, unreadable. Memories you tried to forget flooded back—his touch, his voice, the warmth you once craved. And you hated how, even after six years, he still held something in your chest—an ache you couldn’t ignore.

*

"Now, you’re going to tell me—who is Ji Jaekyung’s real daughter?" Jun’s voice cut through the quiet of the room, sharp but calm as he watched you finish your breakfast.

He had tended to your bruises himself, his touch surprisingly gentle, ordering room service to bring you a warm meal. He hadn’t said much, letting you eat in silence while he took a shower. But now, standing before you in his neatly tailored suit, his patience was gone.

"I’m his daughter," you replied, your voice steady.

Jun chuckled, a low, humorless sound. "I dated you, Y/n. I knew your family. Ordinary people. They weren’t part of any political circle, let alone connected to Ji Jaekyung."

You met his gaze, unwavering. "I told you, I’m Ji Jaekyung’s daughter. If you have anything to do with him, then do it to me."

Jun’s expression didn’t change, but there was a brief flicker in his eyes—something like frustration or disbelief. He said nothing more, simply adjusted his suit jacket and stepped away. Moments later, you heard the door click shut behind him.

Silence settled around you. He was gone, leaving you alone in the spacious, luxurious room. A chance. Maybe your only chance.

Just as you stood, a voice cut through your thoughts.

"I’m Minghao, Mr. Wen’s right-hand man."

You froze, turning to see a young man leaning casually by the door. He had a calm, almost disinterested expression, but his gaze was sharp.

You sighed, leaning back against the plush chair. "You mean Moon Junhui?" you corrected, using Jun’s Korean name.

Minghao’s lips twitched slightly, a hint of a smile. "Yes. He went out for a business meeting and left you with me. You’re not allowed to leave without my supervision."

Your hands clenched in your lap, a mix of frustration and resignation washing over you. That man—he hadn’t changed at all. Still controlling, still calculating.

And yet, even now, your chest tightened with a confusing ache—anger, fear, and something else you refused to name.

Jun returned to the hotel room as the evening sun cast a warm, fading light through the curtains. His suit jacket was the first to go, discarded over a chair, his gaze immediately falling on you, curled up on the bed, still asleep.

"Did she say anything about Jaekyung?" Jun asked, loosening his tie.

Minghao, who stood by the window, shook his head. "No, sir. She insists she’s his daughter."

Jun’s lips curled into a faint smile. "I believe even his real daughter would rather disown him," he muttered, waving Minghao off. "You can leave for tonight. I’ll be going alone."

Minghao nodded, slipping out quietly.

Jun walked over to the bed, his gaze softening slightly as he looked at you. A moment of quiet hesitation. Then he leaned down, gently touching your shoulder. "Wake up. I’ll drive you back to your apartment."

You stirred awake, blinking against the dim light. His words barely registered, but you nodded, getting up slowly. In the car, the silence stretched between you two, thick and tense. Jun’s eyes remained fixed on the road, his expression unreadable.

At your apartment, you fumbled for your keys, and Jun followed you inside without asking, his eyes scanning your modest living space.

"Who's this? Your boyfriend?" Jun asked, picking up a framed photo of you with a younger man, both of you smiling brightly.

"So you like them younger now?" he teased, a hint of something bitter in his voice.

"Not your business, Jun," you muttered, already searching for your phone, checking if you missed any important messages.

A sudden knock at the door cut through the tension. "Y/n, are you ready? We need to be there before the Prime Minister," a man’s voice called out.

Panic surged through you. You spun around, grabbed Jun by the wrist, and dragged him into the kitchen. "Stay here. Don’t make a sound."

You rushed back, smoothing your clothes, and unlocked the door with a bright, apologetic smile. "Sorry, I fell asleep. I’ll be ready in 15 minutes."

"Got it. Don’t take too long," the man replied, his footsteps fading down the hall.

You turned to find Jun leaning against the kitchen doorway, arms crossed, a smirk tugging at his lips. "You need to go, Jun."

"Going somewhere with the Prime Minister, are we?" he drawled, his tone laced with amusement. "So tell me, are you his daughter or his mistress, Ji Y/n?"

Your patience snapped. You tried to step past him, but his hand shot out, catching your wrist. His touch was firm but not painful, his eyes searching yours. The heat of his presence was too familiar, too close.

"Let go," you hissed.

"Make me," he challenged, his voice low.

In a swift motion, you stomped on his foot, and he grunted, instinctively letting you go. You didn’t spare him another glance, marching off to your bedroom to get ready.

Behind you, Jun leaned against the wall, rubbing his foot with a mix of pain and reluctant admiration. "Still got some fight in you, huh?" he muttered under his breath, a faint smile pulling at his lips.

*

Jun watched you all night, his car parked discreetly across the street. He saw everything—from the moment you stepped out of the sleek black car, escorted into a high-end restaurant, to the late hours when an older man led you into a lavish hotel lobby.

His jaw tightened, fingers gripping the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white. His chest twisted with a mix of rage and disgust. He had pieced it together, or at least he thought he had. Ji Jaekyung was using you, presenting you as his daughter to entertain his clients—perhaps even worse. The thought sickened him.

By the time dawn brushed the city with pale light, Jun was already waiting in your apartment, a storm of emotions swirling beneath his calm exterior. The door creaked open, and you stepped in, your makeup smudged, hair disheveled, exhaustion written all over your face.

"Tell me," Jun's voice cut through the quiet, cold and sharp. "What is that bastard making you do?"

You froze, surprise flashing across your features before you frowned. "What are you talking about?"

"Ji Jaekyung," he spat the name like a curse. "What is he making you do? Is he forcing you to entertain his clients? To sleep with them too?"

Your expression twisted with shock, then fury. "Fuck you, Jun. It’s none of your business!"

"None of my—" He stepped forward, his towering presence making the small space feel even tighter. "It becomes my business when I see you being treated like—"

"Like what?" you snapped, your voice rising, tears stinging your eyes. "Like a tool? A pawn? How the hell did you even here?"

"Don’t twist this, Y/n! I’m trying to help you, but you’re too stubborn, too damn prideful to admit you need it!" His voice escalated, fingers twitching with the urge to shake you awake.

"By accusing me of being a whore? By making me feel even smaller than I already do?" You tried to push past him, but he blocked your way, his glare unwavering.

"I’m not letting you walk away from this. Tell me the truth!" he demanded, his voice like a thunderclap.

"Get out of my way, Jun!" You shoved him, but he didn’t budge. His anger, his judgmental gaze—everything overwhelmed you.

"I won’t! Not until you—"

The sharp crack of your palm against his cheek silenced him. The room fell still, the sound of the slap echoing. Your chest heaved, tears spilling freely now.

"I’m tired, Jun. I’m so damn tired," you whispered, your voice breaking. "I don’t need your judgment. I don’t need your pity. And I don’t need you."

After leaving South Korea six years ago, Jun had learned how to mask himself. He buried the version of himself that only Seoul had known—the carefree, warm-hearted boy who once believed in love. In his father’s world, there was no room for softness. He trained relentlessly, sculpting himself into a weapon, a businessman, a strategist. He drowned himself in work, in power, in everything that would keep his mind too busy to think about you.

But tonight, as he watched you being paraded like a mistress—escorted by a man old enough to be your father, vanishing into the shadowed halls of a luxury hotel—every wall he built crumbled. All the effort to forget you was worthless. Because seeing you like that didn’t just hurt—it enraged him. You were his lover, and you were never meant to be anything else.

The phone in his hand felt like a lifeline, his father’s voice crackling on the other end. "It’s taking longer than expected to find his daughter," Jun reported, struggling to keep his voice steady.

"I’ve managed a few business matters here well," his father replied, almost dismissive. "Honestly, it would be easier to end him than to keep searching for his daughter. The man’s a coward—paying someone to pretend to be his child."

"I know. Ji Jaekyung is a damn snake," Jun muttered, jaw clenched. But now, a new resolve burned in his chest. He wasn’t just going to finish his father’s mission—he was going to save you, even if you didn’t want to be saved.

"Listen to me, Y/n," Jun's voice was sharp, cutting through the suffocating silence. He turned to face you, his expression a fierce mix of anger and desperation, while you stood there with tears streaming down your cheeks.

"Jaekyung has a lot of debt with my family in China. He promised his daughter as collateral for the deal, and he broke that promise. If you keep pretending to be his daughter, you’re walking straight into danger. Real, unforgiving danger."

His words struck like a whip, each one leaving a mark, but before you could even process them, Jun stormed out, the door slamming behind him with a thunderous bang. The sound echoed in your chest, leaving you alone in a silence that felt louder than anything else.

*

Your mother was murdered the night you left Jun.

The call came from the police, their voices cautious and clinical. They informed you that your mother had been found dead in her apartment. They tried reaching your brother, Seungkwan, but you knew they wouldn’t succeed—it was nearing the KSAT, and Seungkwan usually buried himself in his studies outside.

The first piece of evidence they found was a security camera recording of a stranger leaving your mother’s place in the dead of night. A dragon tattoo was visible on his arm—a dragon you recognized. The same ink Jun bore on his back.

"It's from a Chinese crime syndicate," the officer explained, his voice tinged with grim seriousness. "We suspect your mother may have been involved with them."

But you knew better. Your mother was no involved to the syndicate. And you couldn’t let Seungkwan know. He had worked so hard, pushing himself to become a police officer so he could catch the person who killed your father. Another tragedy would shatter him.

It all spiraled into a tangled mess. Your parents had once worked for Ji Jaekyung, and both were killed by people with that dragon tattoo. Now Jun, with the same tattoo, had shown up—searching for Jaekyung’s daughter.

One night, a man in a sleek suit appeared at your door 6 years ago. His expression was as sharp as his attire.

"Ji Jaekyung wants to meet you."

Seungkwan was asleep, exhausted from his studies, so you left quietly.

The proposal was straightforward: become Ji Jaekyung’s daughter. Smile, play the role, and he would pay you enough to support Seungkwan’s dream of entering the police academy. No further explanations, just one threat:

"Or else, we’ll have to do something about your brother."

That was the leash around your neck.

From that moment, you were a hostage in a game far beyond your control. You learned about Long Wei, the syndicate Jaekyung was tangled with—the same syndicate responsible for your parents' deaths. You thought you could uncover the truth by diving into this chaos, but instead, you were trapped deeper.

You hated all of it—the politics, the business, the way innocence was trampled for power. But you had no voice, no power. Just a thin, fragile line of survival with a bullet always aimed at your head.

"I brought chicken!" Seungkwan's delighted voice filled your apartment, a burst of warmth you didn’t realize you needed. You looked up from your laptop, seeing him still in his uniform, clearly fresh from his shift.

"You didn’t even change," you noted, a soft smile tugging at your lips.

"Figured I had some clothes here anyway," he quipped, already darting into your room. "Don’t start without me!"

Moments later, he emerged in a faded pajama set he had once left behind, immediately joining you at the small dining table where you’d set out the chicken and a few cold beers.

"My shift was a nightmare," Seungkwan grumbled around a mouthful of chicken. "Two separate thefts in one shift! Why do criminals love my schedule? Seriously, is it me?" He gestured dramatically, his expression an exaggerated mix of exhaustion and outrage.

You laughed, the sound easing some of the tension you’d been carrying. "Maybe they just love giving you a challenge."

"Chicken is the best stress relief," he declared, tossing another piece into his mouth.

But your laughter faded when your phone buzzed, and you saw the caller ID—Ji Jaekyung’s assistant. A sense of dread settled in your stomach. The man wanted you at a meeting with clients tomorrow. Seungkwan’s eyes darkened as he recognized the name.

"I’m annoyed," he muttered, throwing his fork into the chicken box, his mood dampened.

"I’m sorry," you whispered, your hand reaching for his, giving it a gentle squeeze. "We have to get through this."

Seungkwan’s jaw tightened. "If only our parents hadn’t worked for that bastard, we wouldn’t be stuck in this mess—especially you."

A thick silence settled between you, rage and sadness lingering like an uninvited guest at your table.

"I promise, I swear," Seungkwan’s voice trembled, his grip on your hand tightening. "I’ll catch everyone who made our lives this hard. I won’t let them win."

*

"You have a beautiful daughter, Mr. Ji."

The familiar man across from you smiled, his words smooth but laced with something darker. So, this was how people like him played their games—one meeting with Ji Jaekyung, a pleasant exchange of words, deals sealed over expensive wine. And in the end, it was always the innocent who paid the price.

Just like your parents.

Would you be next?

Jun tilted his head, watching you squirm in your seat, your gaze fixed on the ornate carpet beneath you. Beside you, Ji Jaekyung wore a pleasant smile, sipping his wine with the ease of a man who controlled the room.

"Your visit was rather surprising, Jun. I was expecting one of your uncles, actually. I can't believe they sent the serpent himself," Ji Jaekyung mused, swirling his glass.

Jun chuckled, his voice light, but his eyes sharp. "I apologize if my visit seems a bit impolite. I was just playing around in the city—feeling nostalgic."

Jaekyung nodded, a smile never leaving his face. "Ah, nostalgia. I heard you graduated here. My daughter is an alumna of the same university."

Jun’s gaze shifted to you. "Is that so?" he murmured, leaning back with an air of casual interest. "You're very secretive about her for someone so beautiful."

Ji Jaekyung’s hand moved to your hair, brushing a strand behind your ear with a touch that felt cold rather than comforting. "She is beautiful. I simply want to protect her. You know how it is—enemies can be unpredictable."

"That's very fatherly of you," Jun said, his smile unwavering. "Do you consider me an enemy?"

Ji Jaekyung laughed, the sound loud and full, yet hollow. "Of course not. You're practically family. I know your grandfather, your father, your uncles... No, you could never be an enemy."

Jun’s smile widened, though his eyes never softened. "Since we’re practically family, may I take your daughter with me tonight? I find myself feeling a bit lonely here in Seoul."

Your eyes widened, a jolt of shock running through you. He had trapped you with a simple question—one that Ji Jaekyung couldn’t refuse without appearing rude, and one you couldn’t reject without risking angering either man.

"Of course, of course," Jaekyung agreed with a chuckle. "I’m sure my Y/n doesn’t mind. You don’t mind, right?" His gaze shifted to you, a smile masking a warning.

The weight of your fate pressed against you like a stone. You were nothing more than a pawn in their game, your life a currency exchanged with a polite smile. And maybe that was all you were meant to be—something to be used, polished, and displayed, but never truly free.

*

Jun drove in silence, the city lights spilling over the windshield, their glow a pale wash against the dark leather interior. The gentle hum of the engine filled the void between you, but it did nothing to calm the storm in your chest. Every breath felt sharp, every heartbeat a painful reminder of how your world kept spiraling out of control.

Your gaze remained fixed outside, the blurred neon signs and bustling sidewalks passing like ghosts. But your mind wasn’t in the present. It was wandering, lost in the echoes of a time you had tried so hard to forget.

Six years ago, you were different—bright-eyed and hopeful, your world centered around love and simple dreams. Jun was a part of that world, his laughter a melody you cherished, his touch a promise of comfort. But then everything shattered. Your mother was murdered. Your father’s name was stained with secrets and blood. Seungkwan was left clinging to his dreams of justice while you were forced to live as someone you weren’t.

Was it all a lie? Was Jun just another player in this twisted game? Even then, when he held your hand, whispered sweet promises—was he already playing a role? Was everything a calculated move, leaving you to fend for yourself in this nightmare?

The ache in your chest grew unbearable. You wanted to scream, to demand answers. But part of you was terrified—terrified of hearing the truth, of confirming that the one person you once loved was just another betrayal.

The car eventually slowed, pulling into the familiar driveway of the grand hotel where Jun was staying. He stopped in front of the entrance, but neither of you moved. He let out a quiet sigh, fingers tapping against the steering wheel in a slow, rhythmic pattern.

You didn’t respond. Your fingers dug into the fabric of your dress, knuckles white. You had nothing to say to him. Nothing that wouldn’t break you further.

After a long moment, Jun stepped out, moving around to open your door. Ever the gentleman, even when his actions felt like cruel mockery. You stepped out, your legs feeling like lead, and followed him into the grand, silent lobby. The warm, golden light of the chandeliers felt oppressive, a stark contrast to the cold emptiness pooling in your chest.

The elevator doors closed around you, trapping you in the suffocating silence. You stood beside him, his reflection in the mirrored walls a ghost haunting your thoughts.

When the elevator chimed, you stepped out without waiting for him. But he followed, his footsteps quiet but ever-present. He opened the door to his suite, and you walked in, each step feeling heavier than the last. The familiar scent of expensive cologne and polished wood washed over you.

Your hands moved mechanically, a reflex born from nights of forced smiles and silenced pride. Your fingers reached for the zipper of your dress, pulling it down, the fabric slipping off your shoulders. Cold air touched your skin, but you didn’t feel it. You were numb, lost in the hollow routine you had perfected—a doll performing its part, a daughter sold for survival.

But just as you began to let the dress fall, a strong, calloused hand caught your wrist.

“Stop.” Jun’s voice was sharp, cutting through the suffocating silence. His grip tightened, his touch burning against your skin.

You looked up, your hollow eyes meeting his. His expression was unreadable, but his jaw was clenched, a faint tremor in his grip. Anger radiated from him, his dark eyes stormy, but beneath the fury, something else lingered—hurt, desperation.

“What are you doing?” he demanded, his voice low but shaking with barely contained rage.

“What do you think?” Your voice was empty, a bitter laugh escaping your lips. “This is what I’m supposed to do, right? Isn’t this what you wanted? What he wanted?”

“I never—” His voice broke for a second, but he quickly composed himself. “Don’t ever say that. Don’t you dare think I’m like them.”

“Then why did you take me?” Your voice rose, trembling, your chest heaving with a rush of anger you didn’t even know you had left. “Why, Jun? Is this your revenge? Is this how you prove your power over me?”

“Revenge?” He scoffed, his eyes narrowing. “You think this is revenge? Watching you—watching you reduce yourself to this?” He released your wrist, but the heat of his touch lingered, burning against your cold skin. “This isn’t you, Y/n. This was never you.”

“Then who am I, Jun?” you shot back, your voice cracking. “A liar? A puppet? A pawn in your sick game?”

“No.” He took a step closer, his anger palpable, but there was something else—pain, raw and unhidden. “You’re the woman I—” He stopped himself, running a frustrated hand through his hair. “Damn it, Y/n. You’re not some doll for them to play with. Not for him. Not for me.”

“Then what am I?” Your tears broke free, hot against your cheeks, your voice desperate. “Because this is all I know now, Jun. This is all I’ve become.”

A thick silence fell between you, your breaths heavy, your tears blurring your vision. His fists were clenched at his sides, his chest rising and falling rapidly as if fighting to keep his own emotions in check.

You stood there, trembling, your arms wrapped around yourself like a fragile shield. Jun’s presence was overwhelming—tall, intense, his dark eyes fixed on you with a mixture of shock and anger. But you couldn’t stop. The dam had broken, and the words poured out like a torrent you couldn’t control.

“My father… he was killed. By people with those dragon tattoosn. And I thought it was just a coincidence, I thought… I thought I could escape. But I couldn’t.” Your voice wavered, your breathing coming in short, frantic gasps. “I met you, and for once, I thought I could be happy. But then… my mother—my mother was murdered too. They said it was the same people. The same syndicate. Your people.”

Jun’s eyes widened, his brows knitting together. He tried to reach out, but you stepped back, your voice rising.

“Don’t touch me!” you cried, the tears streaming down your face. “Don’t you dare touch me, Jun. I was a fool. I thought I could protect Seungkwan, that I could find a way out. But I ended up becoming Ji Jaekyung’s puppet. I became his fake daughter, a plaything for his clients, all because I had no choice. And now you—” Your voice broke, a sob escaping your lips. “Were you part of it, Jun? Were you always part of it? Did you know everything?”

“Y/n, stop—” he began, but you cut him off.

“Stop what? Lying to myself? Pretending that you’re different from them?” You laughed bitterly, your knees giving out as you sank onto the cold floor. “I don’t know who you are anymore. I don’t even know who I am. I’m just a pawn in their game—a doll they pass around. And you… you might be just another player.”

Jun moved towards you, but you curled into yourself, hiding your face in your shaking hands.

“Did you use me, Jun? Did you ever care? Or was this all a game to you? A way to keep me under control? To keep me as a bargaining chip?” Your voice was hoarse, your body trembling uncontrollably. “Because that’s what I’ve become—someone they use, someone you might have used too.”

“Y/n, no,” Jun’s voice was rough, desperate. He knelt before you, reaching out but hesitating, his hands hovering in the air. “I swear, I didn’t know. I didn’t—”

“Then why?” you looked up at him, your tear-filled eyes pleading. “Why are you here? Why are you pretending to protect me?”

“I’m not pretending.” He leaned forward, his own voice breaking. “I never used you. I never lied to you. I… I didn’t know about your parents. About your mother. I swear, Y/n.”

Your vision blurred, your breathing ragged. You wanted to believe him. You wanted to believe those desperate, pained eyes looking back at you. But the darkness around you was suffocating, and trust was a luxury you no longer had.

“Then what are you, Jun?” you whispered. “A savior? Or just another monster wearing a kind face?”

His hands finally found yours, his touch warm, but you couldn’t feel it. You were drowning, trapped in a whirlpool of doubt, fear, and grief.

“I’m someone who won’t lose you again,” he whispered, his voice raw. “Not to them. Not to anyone.”

Jun’s arms held you tighter, his embrace warm but desperate, like a man trying to keep you from slipping away. His hand cradled the back of your head, his lips pressing against your hair as he whispered, “Y/n, listen to me. I swear to you, I didn’t know. I didn’t know they would hurt your family. I didn’t know you were trapped like this.”

His voice trembled, yet there was a firm resolve beneath the fear. “I swear, I’m not a part of Jaekyung’s schemes. I came here to deal with him, to bring him down for everything he’s done—not just to you, but to everyone he’s destroyed.”

You leaned back slightly, your tear-streaked eyes meeting his, searching desperately for any hint of deception. Your voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper. “Are you telling me the truth? You’re not lying to me again?”

“I’m not lying. Not now, not ever again.” Jun’s gaze never wavered, his thumb gently brushing away your tears.

Your fingers tightened on his shirt, fear and desperation clawing at your chest. “Then save me, Jun. Please. I can’t do this anymore."

Jun’s thumb brushed against your cheek, wiping away the last of your tears, his touch so gentle that it sent a shiver down your spine. His eyes searched yours, a storm of emotions swirling within them—regret, longing, and something deeper, something that had never truly left even after all these years.

And then his lips were on yours.

It wasn’t a hesitant kiss, nor a cautious one—it was a kiss of desperation and yearning, of a man who had lost you once and was terrified of losing you again. His lips moved against yours with an urgency that sent warmth flooding through your chest, his hand slipping to the back of your neck, pulling you closer as though he needed you to breathe.

You melted into him, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt, clinging to him as though he was the only solid thing in your crumbling world. His other arm wrapped around your waist, pressing you against him, and you felt the rapid beat of his heart against your chest, matching the wild rhythm of your own.

Jun’s kiss softened, the fierce urgency giving way to something deeper, something that spoke of all the years of regret, the nights spent wondering if he should have come back sooner. His lips trailed over yours, slow and tender, as though memorizing the shape of your mouth, whispering promises with every touch.

Your hands slipped up to his shoulders, and you felt his muscles tense beneath your touch. But he didn’t pull away; if anything, he pulled you closer, his fingers tangling in your hair, his forehead resting against yours as his lips moved softly, lovingly against yours.

“I missed you,” he breathed against your lips, the words a quiet confession. “I never stopped thinking about you, never stopped loving you.”

A soft, broken sound escaped your throat, and your fingers tightened on his shirt. “Don’t leave me, Jun. Please… promise me, don’t leave me.”

“I won’t,” he whispered, and you could hear the promise in his voice, the desperate need to be the man you could trust again. “I swear, I won’t.”

His lips found yours again, slower this time, savoring each second, each gentle press, his hands cradling you with a care that made your heart ache. It wasn’t just a kiss—it was a promise, a silent vow that you weren’t alone anymore, that he would stand with you, fight for you.

And for the first time in years, in his arms, you felt safe.

*

Jun's sleek, black car sliced through the bustling city streets, the quiet hum of the engine a sharp contrast to the tension hanging in the air. Minghao sat in the passenger seat, his gaze fixed ahead, but his voice clear and steady.

“Her parents worked for Ji Jaekyung for a long time,” Minghao began, fingers drumming lightly on his knee. “Her father, Ji Ho-seok, was a lawyer—he worked for us. Her mother was a housewife, quiet but smart.”

Jun leaned back against his seat, his jaw clenched as Minghao laid out the twisted history. The dim overhead light cast sharp shadows over his face, making the anger in his eyes even more pronounced.

“So, Ji Ho-seok wasn’t just a victim of his own honesty,” Jun muttered, his voice low and edged with rage. “He was framed. Jaekyung made him a scapegoat, painting him as a traitor to Longwei so they would take him out.”

Minghao nodded, his expression grave. “That’s right. Jaekyung manipulated the narrative. Ho-seok’s death wasn’t just an accident. It was a calculated move. He convinced Longwei that Ho-seok was a threat, a liability who might expose their business dealings in Seoul.”

“And then he didn’t stop there,” Jun continued, his fists tightening. “Six years ago, he found out about Y/n. He used her—forced her into this fake daughter role to exploit his connections. And when her mother tried to protect her…”

“Jaekyung had her killed. Made it look like another syndicate move, but it was all part of his plan,” Minghao finished. “He knows that Y/n’s survival means his control over her. The moment she tries to escape, he can turn everything against her.”

Jun’s chest heaved with barely contained fury. The woman he loved had been caught in this twisted game for years—used, threatened, and forced to play a role that trapped her.

Jun strode into the safe house with Minghao and a group of guards trailing behind him. The cold, metallic hum of the place seemed to amplify the shock on the faces of the Longwei members stationed in Seoul. Their whispers died down immediately, replaced by a tense, suffocating silence. It wasn’t every day that their young boss appeared without warning—especially not with that fierce, unyielding glare in his eyes.

“Everyone, listen up.” Jun’s voice cut through the air like a blade, cold and authoritative. “I want this man found by tonight.”

Minghao stepped forward, holding up a clear, high-resolution image of a man—his features hardened with age, but the distinct dragon tattoo on his forearm was unmistakable. The room seemed to shift, the guards exchanging uneasy glances.

“This man killed Ji Ho-seok fifteen years ago,” Minghao announced, his voice steady but intense. “He was one of us—Longwei. But he betrayed that honor the moment he became a pawn in Ji Jaekyung’s game.”

Jun’s gaze swept over the room, his jaw clenched. “I want him alive. No excuses. No mistakes. If he tries to run, you make sure he regrets it.”

The men nodded, already pulling out their phones, making calls, and exchanging brief, whispered instructions. They knew better than to disappoint Jun—especially when his voice carried a darkness they rarely heard.

Jun stepped quietly into the hotel room, the soft click of the door almost drowned out by the city’s distant hum. His eyes immediately found you—sitting by the window, wrapped in one of the plush white robes, your knees drawn to your chest. Pale morning light filtered through the glass, painting you in a soft, ethereal glow, but your expression was distant, lost somewhere beyond the bustling streets below.

“You’re back.” Your voice was soft, barely above a whisper, but it carried a weight he couldn’t ignore.

“I promised I wouldn’t leave you alone.” Jun closed the door gently behind him, shrugging off his suit jacket and tossing it onto a nearby chair. His gaze never left you, taking in the way your fingers absentmindedly traced invisible patterns on your knee.

Silence stretched between you two, but it wasn’t the comforting quiet you used to share. It was heavy—thick with questions, with fears, with everything left unsaid.

“I thought about everything… about how this started. How one decision ruined everything,” you murmured, your voice cracking just slightly. “I feel like I’m drowning, Jun… I don't even know if there’s a way out.”

He crossed the room in a few strides, kneeling beside you. His warm hand reached for yours, covering your cold fingers. “There is. I swear there is. And I’ll make sure you’re free from all of this.”

You looked down at him, searching his eyes, desperate for even a flicker of certainty. “You promise?”

“I do.” His voice was steady, his grip firm, grounding you. “I’ve already started. Minghao is tracking the man who killed your father. We’ll get answers. And I won’t let Jaekyung touch you again.”

Your eyes stung, a tear slipping free despite your best effort. “It’s just… I keep thinking you’re going to disappear too. Like I’ll wake up, and you’ll be gone… just like everything else.”

Jun’s hand moved, cupping your cheek, his thumb brushing away the tear. “I’m not going anywhere, Y/n. Not now. Not ever.”

His forehead pressed gently against yours, his breath warm against your skin. “I lost you once. I won’t lose you again.”

*

You met Seungkwan at a quiet, tucked-away cafe far from the city center. He was already there when you arrived, his uniform jacket draped over the back of his chair, his face pinched with worry. The moment you sat down, his sharp gaze settled on you.

"You look tired," he noted, his tone softening just slightly. "You haven't been sleeping well, have you?"

You offered a weak smile. "Sleep has become a luxury I can't afford."

Silence hung between you as you stirred your coffee, the warmth seeping into your fingertips. Finally, you took a deep breath, bracing yourself. "Seungkwan, I need to tell you something."

His expression tightened, and he leaned in, immediately alert. "What is it?"

"It's about Jun. He... he’s here. And he promised to help me. To help us escape from Ji Jaekyung," you whispered, watching his reaction closely.

Seungkwan's face darkened, his jaw tightening. "Jun? Your ex, Jun? He's with Longwei. He's part of the syndicate. The same people who ruined our family."

"I know," you admitted, struggling to keep your voice steady. "I know what he is. But he promised me, Seungkwan. He’s not like the rest of them. He’s trying to help."

Seungkwan leaned back, crossing his arms, his disbelief painfully clear. "Help? A man from the same group that killed our parents? That controlled Jaekyung? How can you even believe him?"

"Because he’s different!" Your voice broke, drawing a few glances from nearby tables. You forced yourself to lower your tone, tears burning in your eyes. "Because I have no one else to turn to. Because I’m so tired, Seungkwan. I’m tired of being Jaekyung’s pawn. I’m tired of living in fear, of pretending, of wondering who will be next—us, our parents, everyone we love."

Seungkwan's expression softened, but the tension didn't leave his shoulders. "Sister…"

"He promised me, Seungkwan. He promised to protect me. I know how this sounds, but I trust him. Maybe I’m a fool, maybe I’m desperate, but I need you to believe in me. Just this once. Please, understand."

Seungkwan ran a hand through his hair, letting out a shaky sigh. "And what if you’re wrong? What if this is just another trap? What if he’s using you like everyone else?"

"I don’t know," you admitted, your voice a bare whisper. "But I’d rather take a chance with Jun than keep living this nightmare. I can’t do it alone anymore."

Silence stretched between you two, only the faint clinking of cups and murmurs of the other patrons filling the air. Finally, Seungkwan leaned forward, his gaze soft but still cautious.

"Then let me help too. Don’t keep me in the dark. If you trust him, fine—but I’ll be watching. And if he betrays you, I won't hesitate."

A small, shaky smile tugged at your lips. "Thank you, Seungkwan."

"I just want you safe. That's all I ever wanted."

You stepped out of the cafe, the cool air brushing against your face, calming the lingering ache in your chest. The black sedan parked by the curb seemed almost out of place in this quiet neighborhood, but the tinted window rolled down as you approached, revealing Jun's familiar, composed face.

"How was the talk with him?" Jun asked, his voice steady but his gaze searching.

You slipped into the passenger seat, closing the door with a sigh. "He’s skeptical, but I told him everything. He’s worried, but… he’s willing to trust you. For now."

Jun's lips curved slightly, a trace of relief in his expression. "That’s a good start."

The car smoothly pulled away from the curb, and for a while, silence filled the space between you. But Jun’s hand found yours, his thumb brushing against your knuckles, a quiet comfort you didn’t realize you needed.

"Let’s take a break today," he suddenly suggested, glancing at you. "There’s a place I want to take you."

You blinked, a hint of surprise in your eyes. "Where?"

"You'll see."

The cityscape gave way to quieter streets, familiar corners, and warm nostalgia began to seep into your chest. Your heart skipped a beat when you realized where you were—your old university district.

The car stopped by a small, colorful alley with photo booth stations lining one side, neon lights flickering in the daylight. Memories rushed back, the laughter, the warmth, the days when everything was simpler.

"We had our first kiss there," Jun pointed to a particular photo booth, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "You remember? You were so nervous, kept laughing to avoid looking at me."

Your lips curved, a small laugh escaping. "And you kept teasing me until I got so annoyed that I pulled you down and kissed you first."

"Best surprise of my life." He chuckled, a softness in his gaze that made your heart ache.

Jun led you down the alley, his hand still holding yours, and he insisted you both take a new set of photos. The first shot captured your shy smile, the second was Jun leaning close to kiss your cheek, and by the third, you were both laughing, caught in that familiar, carefree feeling.

As the photo strip printed, Jun pulled you aside to a small cafe next door, the same place you used to visit after classes. He ordered the same iced coffee you loved, and you shared a slice of cake by the window, the warm sunlight painting gentle patterns on the table.

"You know," he murmured, watching you take a bite. "I thought I lost this feeling... That simple happiness of being with you."

Your fingers tightened around the cup. "I thought I lost you."

Jun leaned forward, resting his hand on yours. "You never did. And I won’t let you go this time."

Warmth spread in your chest, the weight of fear and doubts momentarily melting away. This was Jun—the Jun you loved, the one who made you feel alive. And for the first time in so long, you felt like you could breathe.

Jun drove with one hand on the wheel, the other gently holding yours. The city’s noise faded into the distance, replaced by the rhythmic whoosh of waves as the beach came into view. The golden hue of the setting sun stretched across the sky, its reflection dancing on the water’s surface.

He parked near the empty shoreline, and together, you stepped out, letting the cool breeze brush against your face. Without a word, Jun pulled down the back bunk of his car, and you both settled on it, facing the endless sea. His jacket draped over your shoulders, enveloping you in warmth as his arms wrapped securely around you.

Silence fell comfortably between you, the soothing crash of waves filling the space. The sky melted into a fiery orange, then a soft purple, stars slowly emerging one by one. But as the darkness grew, so did the weight in your chest.

Finally, you leaned against him, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your cheek. Jun’s voice was soft, almost hesitant, cutting through the quiet embrace of the evening. "Why did you leave me?"

Your breath hitched, eyes fixed on the waves crashing against the shore, a rhythmic reminder of how time never stopped, even when your world crumbled.

"I didn't leave, Jun... I was forced to disappear." Your voice trembled, the bitterness of the truth catching in your throat. "After my mother was killed, Ji Jaekyung came to me. He knew everything—who I was, who my family was, how vulnerable I was. He gave me a choice, or at least pretended to. Play his daughter, entertain his clients, and in return, he'd keep Seungkwan safe. But I knew it was never really a choice."

Jun's hold around you tightened, his jaw clenching against the side of your head. "And you couldn’t tell me? You couldn't come to me?"

A faint, sad smile curved your lips. "How could I? I didn’t even know if I could trust you back then. After I learned about your family’s connection. Everything became a blur, and I was scared. I didn’t know if you were part of it... if you were just another trap."

Silence stretched, heavy and cold. Jun’s fingers trembled slightly on your shoulder, his breath warm against your temple. "I would’ve torn the world apart for you… if you had just told me."

"Would you?" You whispered, a tear slipping down your cheek. "Or would you have seen me as a burden—a weakness in your world of power and secrets?"

Jun leaned back slightly, just enough to meet your gaze, his eyes fierce, filled with a pain that mirrored your own. "You were never a burden. You were everything I wanted… everything I thought I couldn’t have. And I was an idiot to let you go."

Your hand reached for his, intertwining your fingers. "Then don’t let me go this time, Jun."

"I won’t," he whispered, his lips brushing against your forehead, a promise sealed in the warmth of his touch.

Jun's strong hands gently lifted you onto his lap, and once you settled, he cupped your cheek with tenderness, his thumb brushing your skin as if you were the most delicate porcelain. His other hand began a slow exploration, starting at your thigh and gliding with a featherlight touch beneath the hem of your dress. His fingers traced every curve and dip of your body as he leaned in closer, capturing your lips in a soft, lingering kiss.

"You're mine, Y/n," he murmured against your mouth, the words a gentle command. His hand slid to the nape of your neck, pulling you deeper into the kiss with a fervent intensity. "Say you're mine," he urged, his fingers dancing up your thighs, lingering at the curve of your waist before tracing the outline of your stomach.

You gasped his name, a soft moan escaping as his fingers brushed against your most sensitive spot, teasing and exploring with deliberate slowness. His lips never left yours, devouring you with a passionate hunger as his fingers slipped inside, moving with a steady, rhythmic intent. Captivated by the sounds you made, each soft whimper and sigh, he began to undress you, the cool night air whispering over your bare skin.

Your fingers moved with urgency, unbuttoning the last remnants of clothing between you both until skin met skin. He lifted you effortlessly, laying you back against the soft, worn cushions of the car's backseat. Spreading your legs, he positioned himself between them, his gaze locked on yours.

"Tell me each name that bothered you," he said, his voice a low promise. "I'll show them that touching you means messing with me."

With infinite care, he entered you, and the world around you seemed to disappear. The warmth and tightness enfolded him, and in that moment, there was only the two of you, cocooned in each other's embrace, with the gentle sound of waves lapping in the distance, an intimate symphony to your shared solitude.

*

Twelve men sat rigidly on the cold, metal chairs, fear starkly painted on their faces. Thick ropes wound around their torsos, binding them to the chairs, their wrists tied behind their backs, rendering them helpless. The dim light overhead cast a sickly glow, accentuating the sweat beading on their foreheads. The room smelled of damp concrete and something darker—panic.

Jun stepped into the room, Minghao trailing behind him with a steely gaze. Jun’s sharp eyes scanned each terrified face, lingering on the man he recognized—the one he saw that night, leading you through the hotel lobby. Rage simmered beneath his calm exterior, a silent storm brewing.

He remembered your voice, trembling but steady, each word a needle prick against his chest.

"What did they do to you?" he had asked, his jaw clenched, his eyes never leaving yours, desperate for the truth.

"Everything... They did... everything."

The quiet crackle of the burning charcoal snapped him back to the present. A thick metal rod, its tip glowing a fierce orange, sat on the smoldering heat, a twisted promise of pain.

"What should we do to them, boss?" Minghao's voice was steady, but there was a tension beneath his words, a coldness matching Jun’s simmering fury.

Jun's gaze never left the men, especially the one he recognized, whose face had turned ghostly pale.

"For whoever laid their hands on her," Jun’s voice was calm, almost emotionless—a chilling contrast to the violence in his words. "I want them to touch that." He pointed to the searing metal rod, the heat radiating from it like a promise of hell.

Minghao nodded, signaling to the men holding the rod. They stepped forward, the fiery glow reflecting in the captives’ wide, terror-stricken eyes. Some thrashed against their bindings, whimpering and begging, while others shut their eyes, murmuring desperate prayers.

Jun’s phone buzzed in his pocket, the screen flashing with a familiar name—Ji Jaekyung. He signaled Minghao to keep an eye on the captives before stepping away, his expression unreadable. With a swipe, he answered, his voice calm but guarded.

"Mr. Ji," Jun greeted, leaning against the cold wall.

"Jun, my boy!" Jaekyung's voice carried a forced warmth, laced with a hint of tension. "I haven’t seen my daughter since yesterday. She’s not answering her phone. I thought you two would be together. Care to tell me where she is?"

Jun’s jaw tightened, but he kept his voice steady. "She needed some fresh air, Mr. Ji. I figured she'd enjoy some time away without all the... usual pressures."

Jaekyung chuckled, though the edge in his laughter was clear. "Fresh air? That's sweet of you, but you know how dangerous this city can be. Especially for a young woman like her."

"Don’t worry, she’s in good hands."

"Good hands, you say?" Jaekyung's tone turned sharper. "I hope you're not forgetting our arrangement, Jun. You understand how important my daughter is to me... and how unpleasant things can get if something happens to her."

Jun’s fingers curled tighter around his phone. "Rest assured, Mr. Ji. I always take good care of what's mine."

A brief silence stretched between them before Jaekyung's voice softened again, but the threat lingered beneath. "See that you do. I expect her back soon, Jun. Don’t disappoint me."

The call ended, and Jun lowered the phone, his gaze darkening. He looked back at the room where the captives were. His grip on the phone was so tight his knuckles turned white.

"Minghao," he called out, his voice cold.

Minghao approached immediately, reading the look in his boss’s eyes. "Jaekyung’s getting anxious?"

"He's getting suspicious." Jun’s voice was low, almost a growl. "Have someone follow him. I want to know every move he makes. If he sends anyone to look for her, I want to know before they even leave his doorstep."

Minghao nodded, already typing instructions to his men. "And the men here?"

Jun’s gaze returned to the captives. His voice was ice. "Continue. Make them talk. I want to know everything they did to her. And I want them to feel what it means to lay their hands on her."

With one last glance at the room, Jun stepped out, his mind racing. He needed to protect you, and to do that, he needed to stay two steps ahead of Ji Jaekyung.

*

Jun’s car sped through the city streets, neon lights casting fleeting colors across his face. His grip on the steering wheel tightened as he dialed the secure line to his father. The call connected after a few rings, and a deep, authoritative voice echoed through.

"Jun?" His father's voice carried the weight of decades of power. "Is something wrong?"

"Father," Jun began, his voice steady but tense. "I need your permission to eliminate Ji Jaekyung."

A sharp silence filled the line, followed by a low, incredulous chuckle. "Holding his daughter isn't enough? Have you lost your mind, Jun?"

"No, Father. I've seen enough." Jun’s voice remained firm. "Ji Jaekyung has tainted the deal further than Longwei expected. He’s using our name, manipulating our men, and worst of all—he's exploiting innocent lives. He uses a false daughter to shield his business, dragging her into a world of filth."

His father’s silence deepened, the weight of his contemplation almost palpable through the phone. "Are you certain this isn't personal?"

"It is personal too," Jun admitted without hesitation. "But even without the personal part, his actions have become a liability. He hides behind our name, but he’s a snake, corrupting our reputation."

"Jun, killing an ally can bring consequences. The balance in Seoul will shift. His partners, his clients, they might turn against us. He just needs a warning."

"But if we keep him, he’ll turn them against us with his lies and deceit. I can handle the fallout. I will clean up every trace."

"Would you stake your position for this decision?" his father asked, his tone now sharp, testing.

Jun didn’t hesitate. "Yes. If you give me your approval, I will do everything. No one will ever trace it back to us."

A slow exhale echoed from the other side. "Very well, Jun. But remember, this is your choice. If you fail, it’s your head on the line, not just his."

"I won’t fail, Father."

The call ended. Jun's jaw clenched as he tossed the phone onto the passenger seat. The weight of what he was about to do pressed down on him, but it was a weight he was willing to bear.

The car pulled up to the hotel, and Jun stepped out. His expression remained cold, but beneath that exterior was a storm of determination. He was going to protect you, no matter the cost.

*

The television screen in the hotel room flickered to life, its glow casting a pale light over the dimly lit space. You were curled up on the bed, staring blankly at the screen, trying to distract yourself from the whirlwind of emotions inside you. But then the program shifted, the tone turned urgent, and a news anchor appeared, her face a mix of shock and professionalism.

"Breaking News—South Korea's Prime Minister Ji Jaekyung has died in a tragic car accident earlier this evening. Authorities report that his vehicle lost control on a mountain road before crashing into a ravine. Emergency responders arrived on the scene, but Ji Jaekyung was pronounced dead on arrival. The cause of the accident is still under investigation, but preliminary reports suggest a possible brake failure. This sudden loss has sent shockwaves throughout the nation."

Your breath caught, and the remote slipped from your hand, clattering against the floor. A cold chill spread through you as your eyes widened. Ji Jaekyung… dead?

Your thoughts raced—was it truly an accident? Could it be connected to Jun? You remembered his words, his quiet but fierce promise to protect you. You covered your mouth, trying to suppress the mix of fear and relief flooding your chest.

The screen continued to show footage of the crash site—flashing lights, twisted metal, and officers cordoning off the area.

"The Prime Minister's office has yet to release an official statement. Reports indicate that Ji Jaekyung’s car was traveling alone, and there were no other passengers. The investigation is ongoing."

Your heart pounded against your ribs as the door clicked open. Jun stepped in, his sharp suit barely wrinkled, his expression unreadable as his eyes immediately found yours. He saw your pale face and glanced at the television.

"You did this," you whispered, a mixture of disbelief and shock in your voice.

Jun's face softened slightly, his steps careful as he approached you. "I told you I would protect you."

You stared at him, tears pooling in your eyes. "Did you… was it really an accident?"

"It was necessary," he said, his voice gentle but unyielding. "He can never hurt you again."

A tear slipped down your cheek, and your legs gave way, but Jun caught you, pulling you into his arms. His hold was firm, grounding you as your mind struggled to process everything.

"You… you killed him," you whispered against his chest.

"Yes," Jun murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "And I'd do it again to keep you safe."

The weight of everything crashed down on you all at once—fear, anger, betrayal, and an overwhelming sense of relief. Your chest tightened, and a sob tore itself free from your throat.

Your fingers gripped the fabric of Jun’s suit, twisting it as your body trembled. A wretched, broken cry escaped your lips, raw and unrestrained. Tears streamed down your cheeks, soaking into his shoulder as you buried your face against him.

"I-I thought… I thought he'd never let me go," you choked out, the words barely coherent between your sobs. "I thought… I thought I’d lose everything—Seungkwan, you—"

Jun’s arms tightened around you, a steady, protective embrace. He didn’t speak, didn’t try to hush your cries. He simply held you, letting you release every ounce of fear and pain you had bottled up for so long. His hand moved gently, cradling the back of your head, his other arm wrapped around your waist, grounding you.

"You’re safe now," he whispered, his voice steady, a calm in the storm of your emotions. "No one can hurt you. Not anymore."

Your sobs grew louder, uncontrollable. Years of suffering, of living under someone else’s shadow, of being used, manipulated, and threatened—all of it broke free. Your knees buckled, but Jun held you, sinking with you to the floor.

"I was so scared… so tired…" you cried, clinging to him. "I don’t want to be afraid anymore."

"And you won’t be," Jun murmured, resting his cheek against the top of your head. "I promised you, didn’t I? I will protect you… no matter what it takes."

You didn't know how long you cried—minutes, hours—it all blurred together. But through it all, Jun never let you go. He stayed, a silent, steady presence in the chaos of your breaking heart.

*

Life changed swiftly, almost ruthlessly. You followed Jun to Guangzhou, leaving behind the shadows of Seoul for the neon-lit city bustling with life. Jun was a name whispered with both fear and respect here, a man painted as the villain in countless stories. But to you, he was never a villain—he was your hero. The man who pulled you from the jaws of despair, who held you when you were broken, and who taught you how to survive.

Guangzhou was a different world. Jun's life was a world of negotiations done in half-lit rooms, whispers exchanged in crowded clubs, and loyalty measured in blood. You learned quickly that being Jun’s partner wasn’t just about standing by his side—it was about keeping up, about becoming strong enough to protect yourself and everything you held dear.

He introduced you to Minghao, who taught you self-defense. Hours spent in a private dojo, where you learned how to disarm a knife-wielding attacker, how to break a grip, how to move swiftly and strike precisely. Every bruise, every ache became a reminder of your growing strength.

Jun didn't just shelter you; he prepared you. Over sleek mahogany tables filled with maps and documents, you learned the art of strategy—how to anticipate moves, how to read people, how to negotiate. You became a quiet but sharp presence in his meetings, your observations valued, your voice heard.

"You’re not just my woman, Y/n," Jun whispered one night, his fingers tracing along your jaw as you lay in his arms. "You’re my partner. I need you to be strong. Strong enough to stand by me… and strong enough to protect yourself when I can’t."

And you became that.

Yet, being Jun's partner meant facing danger. You felt it the night a black sedan rammed your car, your body jolted against the seatbelt as your driver struggled to regain control. You heard it in the sharp, cracking sound of gunfire in a dim alley one evening, Jun’s arm pulling you against the wall, his body shielding yours.

You saw it in the cold glint of a knife pressed against your throat when you were kidnapped by a rival syndicate. You remembered the terror, the way your voice didn’t shake as you spoke to the man holding you, buying just enough time until Jun stormed in, his men dismantling the enemy with calculated precision.

But Jun, like he promised, was always there. When you were dragged out of the car wreck, he was the first face you saw, his voice soothing you even as blood ran down his cheek. When you were taken, he didn't sleep until you were back in his arms.

Your life was a dance on the edge of a blade, a world where chaos and calm intertwined. But in every shadow, Jun was your light. In every storm, he was your shelter. He was a villain in the stories of others, but to you, he was a savior.

Amidst all this, a call came from Seoul—Seungkwan’s voice on the other end, trembling but determined.

“I did it, Y/n,” he breathed, his voice thick with emotion. “I found him. I found the man who killed our parents.”

Your heart raced, the room around you fading into silence. “Seungkwan… where is he?”

“I have him in custody. He’s confessed. Ji Jaekyung set it all up—made him do it, made him kill them to cover his tracks.”

A cold rage settled in your chest, but also a twisted sense of relief. The ghosts of your parents had haunted you for so long, their deaths an open wound that never healed. Now, that wound had a face. A face that could finally be punished.

“Y/n?” Seungkwan’s voice softened. “Are you okay?”

Tears slipped down your cheeks, but a small, determined smile touched your lips. “I’m okay, Seungkwan. Because you did it. You brought justice to them.”

Jun noticed your tears as he entered the room, his gaze softening as he knelt before you. “What’s wrong?”

You met his eyes, your hand reaching out to grasp his. “Seungkwan found him… the man who killed my parents.”

Jun’s jaw tightened, his fingers threading through yours, offering his silent, unwavering support. “Then we’re one step closer, Y/n. To finally ending this nightmare.”

Or maybe, one more nightmare.

The grand hall of Long Wei's headquarters was a spectacle of opulence—crystal chandeliers casting a warm, golden glow over a sea of influential faces. Laughter and the clinking of glasses filled the air, but a sharp tension cut through the room as a man grabbed you, a knife pressed against your neck. Gasps rippled through the crowd, fear seizing those who watched. The man’s voice trembled as he shouted threats, his grip on you shaky, his eyes wild.

“Everyone back! I swear I’ll—”

But his voice faltered when he noticed the subtle change in the air—an eerie calm, an odd sense of confidence. You stood perfectly still, your breathing steady, your gaze unwavering. The knife against your skin was a cold whisper, but fear didn’t cloud your eyes. Instead, there was something else—annoyance.

Jun stood a few feet away, leaning casually against the marble pillar, a glass of wine still in his hand. His head was tilted slightly, a slow, amused smile tugging at his lips. He didn’t rush, didn’t shout. He simply watched, his eyes locked on you.

And you knew what that meant—his trust in you was absolute. Even though he was nervous, considering you were eight months pregnant, his confidence in your abilities never wavered.

The man’s grip tightened, his voice shaking. “I said move back, or she’s—”

Before he could finish, you moved. Your heel slammed down on his foot, hard enough that he cried out, his grip loosening just enough. Your hand shot up, grabbing his wrist, twisting it sharply until the knife clattered to the floor. His free arm reached for you, but you drove your elbow into his ribs with a force that made him gasp.

The room watched, frozen, as your fist collided with his jaw in a clean, precise strike, sending him sprawling to the ground.

Chaos erupted around you. Long Wei’s guards surged forward, tackling the man to the floor, rough hands ensuring he wouldn’t rise again. But you hardly noticed. Jun was already at your side, his arms wrapping protectively around you, pulling you close. His hand instinctively rested against the gentle curve of your stomach, feeling the faint movement within.

“You’ll be the death of me, baby,” he whispered, his voice half-scolding, half-loving, his lips brushing your temple.

You leaned into his touch, your own hand resting over his. “I didn’t even break a sweat.”

Jun chuckled, though there was a hint of exasperation in his voice. “If you weren’t eight months pregnant, I’d be proud. But right now, I’m just trying not to have a heart attack.”

Behind you, the party guests were beginning to murmur, the tension slowly dissipating. Long Wei’s men dragged the failed attacker away, and whispers of admiration and shock spread through the crowd. Even Jun’s father, who had been watching from the balcony, gave an approving nod.

“Come on,” Jun murmured, steering you gently toward a quieter corner. “Let’s sit you down. You’ve done enough for tonight, hero.”

You chuckled, letting him guide you, your fingers lacing with his. “Maybe next time, they’ll think twice before trying to mess with Long Wei’s family.”

Junhui was a patient man. But this had been going on for the better part of an hour, and he had yet to stick his dick inside of your pussy and truly there was only so much you could take. 

You were a mess on top of him. You were braced against the headboard of the bed, face ducked down and contorted in pleasure as you dragged your pussy down the length of Junhui’s torso. His abs were coated in your juices, glistening in the bedroom light. 

Harsh pants left your mouth as you grinded down on his abdomen, your cunt chasing release, trying to gain traction. But his torso was soaked and there was only so much it could give. 

You couldn’t come like this, he knew. Junhui, while patient, was also observant when it came to you. He knew you needed something up your cunt, needed to be filled and stretched. Knew you needed his cock buried inside of you. 

Jun’s hands flexed against your hips, thumbs pressing into the fat there and indenting it. He slowed your hips to a stop, revealing in how utterly destroyed you looked as you blinked down at him, mouth parting. 

“Do you want help, baobei?”

You shook your head, wiggling your hips. When his grip didn’t lessen, you bore down on him, pressing your clit down and against the hard muscles of his stomach. He hadn’t really understood what you meant when you proposed this, when you shyly asked if you could ride his abs. But Jun, patient, observant Jun, was up to most anything and could never deny you. 

But then you had begun dragging your cunt over his abs, driving your clit down in an attempt to get some relief, juices coating his chest, and Jun couldn’t help but agree with you that this was a wonderful idea. 

“I can --” You panted, biting down on your lip. “I can do it.”

Jun sighed. Using his grip on you, he up-heaved you off of him and onto the bed beside him. You let out a shriek of shock at the sudden movement, eyes wide and looking up at him like a startled deer. 

Jun wedged himself between your thighs, forcing them open and revealing your cunt. He shoved two of his fingers in, your pussy quickly clenching him and trying to coax more, even though his fingers were as deep as they went. Jun adjusted his hand, pressing a third finger in. He stretched them out, dragging against your walls and mapping them out. 

“Wasn’t really asking,” He told you, watching in delight as your back arched off the bed and little cries, pleas, left your lips. “This is my pussy, you know? I get the final say over it.”

He wasn’t a possessive man at all. Jun shared most things in his life, bar you. He always offered his snacks and food, always offered you the first sip of his drink. Being possessive wasn’t in his nature. But he liked the little eager gleam you got in your eyes whenever he pressed himself against your side and draped over you, when he called your cunt his and left bruises high on your neck. 

Finally, Jun guided his long, slender, red and angry cock into your hungry cunt. He fed it in, groaning and eyes fluttering as your pussy clenched around him. When people asked him what he wanted to do with his life, what he wanted in the future, he always had to lie; how could Jun possibly say that the only thing he wanted in life was to be constantly buried in you, coated in your pussy juices and his ears filled with your moans?

You also can’t complain because you’re working with your designated himbo, per usual. Jun is one of those really tall, really good looking nice boys who are especially…dumb but in a likeable sort of way. He’s goofy and a little immature but you enjoy his company. The long quiet nights are filled with laughter, conversation, and a lot of shit you probably shouldn’t be doing while getting paid - most of which Jun instigates.

“Hey,” you hear from somewhere behind you, “Psssssssst!”

You put your phone down and look over your shoulder to see Jun across the store holding a glazed donut up to his mouth, flicking his tongue through the middle suggestively, like an idiot.

You snort but pretend to be unimpressed and he, very briefly considers putting the donut back before tossing it in the trash. The boss let’s them eat whatever they want anyway so it’s not like anyone is truly caring for the inventory numbers. He comes up to the counter where you’re sort of monitoring the floor and leans down to whisper, “When do you think that guy will leave?”

“He’s gonna ask for more gummy bears, bet.”

Jun holds out his hand immediately. “If he leaves without asking, you have to lick my armpit.”

You give a look of thinly veiled disgust, “You’re so weird,” and then slap your hand into his, “If he does, I’m giving you a wedgie.”

Jun’s nose crinkles as he thinks about the last time he lost a bet with those odds. His ass crack was scarred for life, but Jun also had a plan this time around, “Deal.”

His efforts were amusing to say the least.

It was mostly just him sitting behind the counter trying to make direct eye contact with this poor man sitting alone in the shop, trying to enjoy his fro-yo in peace. Every time he looked up, Jun was somehow in his line of vision. Cleaning a table, examining a sprinkle, spritzing a window, hovering around floor like an absolute creeper. He got distracted though.

He’d found a dollar bill on the floor under a table and the guy got up and beelined it toward the counter. You painted on the friendliest smile when he asked for extra gummy bears and wished him well on his way out the door. For some reason he thought his treat was better tasting at home. Probably because he wasn’t being stalked while he ate it.

Jun caught the interaction just as the customer was leaving and he sulked across the entire empty shop, heavy feet stomping each step of the way. “How come you always win?”

Laughing, you circle the counter and Jun takes a careful step backwards. “Have mercy on my cheeks,” he begs, “I wouldn’t actually make you lick my pit had I won!”

“Yes, you would have,” you step closer and jump at him, making him squeal a bit, “Don’t drag out the torture. Bring that ass here boy.”

“What if I'm not wearing underwear?” He giggles, backing into a table and jumping out of the way, “Didja ever think about that?”

You back off and smirk, walking back toward the counter, “It’s fine…I don’t mind waiting and catching you off guard. Let you slip into a false sense of security before I destroy your ass.”

His face drops and he automatically clenches out of fear. “Ohhh,” he blows out with narrowed eyes, “You’re pure evil.”

You smile angelically and then tilt your neck sharply like a broken doll, and Jun shudders, very slowly and wearily joining you back behind the counter you’ve perched on. He offers a very tiny smile like a white flag and you grin, keeping him on his toes.

“Soooooooo,” he drawls out, “Pretty sure Rin is never calling me back…”

Rin is the super hot girl Jun’s been talking to lately and she is so far out of his league it’s insane. She drives a brand new Audi and owns her own clothing line but apparently she likes funny guys and there is anyone doofier than Wen Junhui. Again, dumb but objectively attractive. The thing is, she is just way too mature for him. She’s running a high-end business and he works in a fro-yo shop and thinks butt jokes are still funny.

It’s too bad Rin’s not into girls.

You sigh, unsurprised. “What did you do?”

Jun’s face falls and he purses his lips, “Why do you always assume I did something?”

You merely blink back and him and he deflates. “I think she wanted to have sex with me and I screwed things up.”

You automatically laugh and he whines at your reaction, crying about you never taking him seriously. You choke down the laughter but can’t dim the smirk upon your lips, “I’m intrigued, please,” you gesture to the empty space between you, “Paint me a picture.”

Jun leans against the opposite counter, sighing as he recounts the details. “I took her out last Friday and we had dinner and then she said she wanted to come hang out at my place so we went home and we were watching a new movie,” he gets distracted and then really excited, “You know that Blissful Revenge movie I wanted to see, right?”

You nod amusedly, of course. He’s talked about it for weeks.

“So, we were watching it and she kept getting closer which is like cool, I like to snuggle, and then she started kissing my neck and you know how ticklish I am so I kept laughing and she stopped. Then she climbed on my lap and blocked the whole tv and we started making out but I think she saw that I kept trying to look around her to watch the movie and she got pissed and left,” he grimaces awkwardly, “I asked if I could walk her to her car and she said no. So, I stayed inside and watched the rest of the movie by myself.”

Riveting. “Was the movie good?”

His face lights up, “Dude, yes it was amazing! The graphics were so much better than the last movie and it was like a hundred times more gory,” he spreads he hands out and smiles serenely, “Blood and guts, everywhere.”

“Hey,” you look at him curiously, waving your hand, “Come here for a sec…”

Jun looks worried and touches his face then his hair and moves slowly towards you, ‘What-”

“Hold still,” You caution him and as soon as he’s close enough, you reach around and smack him in the back of the head.

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” You ask incredulously, “You have hot and horny girl in your lap and you’re too busy watching tv?! You’ve fumbled the bag, severely. Idiot.”

Jun winces and rubs his head, mussing his hair. “I just don’t get why we couldn’t do it after the movie was over…”

You roll your eyes skyward, begging aloud for Rin to just give you one chance. One chance is all you need to treat her right unlike this towering doofus in front of you.

“Jun,” you say with an incredible amount of patience, “Are you a virgin?”

He narrows his eyes and scoffs, “No.”

No elaboration, interesting.

“Do you like having sex with hot girls?”

He snorts, “Uh, obviously? Don’t you?”

You jut out your chin sarcastically, “Obviously,” you roll your eyes, “And I’m way better at it than you apparently. Do you, like, not know how to tell if a girl is horny? Or into you, in general?”

Jun says nothing but he opens and closes his mouth a few times, scoffing and walking in circles with his hands on his hips, occasionally bringing one up in the air like he’s about to make a point and then lowering it again without a word.

“Dude, you don’t know how to read women at all, do you?”

He finally sighs and dejectedly slumps against the counter next to you. “Women are so beautiful and so mysterious,” he groans, “They don’t talk with their words. How am I supposed to guess what they want?”

Another incredulous look crosses your face. “Her kissing your neck, climbing into your lap, and initiating a make-out session was not clear enough body language for you?”

“We were watching a movie!” he shouts word for word.

“No,” you loudly correct him, “You were watching a movie. She was trying to fuck you! If there is one thing women hate most, it’s being ignored. Especially when they’re trying to initiate intimacy. If she walked out, I can almost guarantee this has happened before with you.”

He seems contemplative but then a couple walk in and you paste on your customer service face and greet them, taking their order. You and Jun work in relative silence, passing things back and forth to each other then to the customers and they leave, emptying out the place once again.

“So, that one time I asked her to watch me play video games and she kept trying to take off my pants…”

He ducks as you throw a handful of m&ms at his head and shouts, “WHY?”

You glare at him and point at the floor, whispering threateningly, “Pick those up,” before he’s running for a broom and dust pan.

He sulks around the shop while you hide in the office, choosing to kick your feet up on the desk and watch an episode on Netflix. Jun is made to watch the floor as punishment for being a dumbass. He has to reflect on the consequences of his actions.

It’s not long before he’s poking his head into the office, a pout plastered on his useless lips. “Whadda you want, virgin?” you ask without looking up.

His forces a teeny, feeble voice and bows his head, “Teach me your ways, sensei.”

You pause your show and look up with a flat face. “I’m not taking on new students.”

He drops to his knees and you both grimace at the crunchy sound they make. “I am begging you,” he shakes his hands, pleading, “I will do the floors and bathrooms myself for a month!”

You narrow you eyes and he folds, “FOR ETERNITY!”

Sighing long and hard you set your phone down and adjust the computer monitor so you can see the front doors should someone come in. “Listen and listen well, young grasshopper. Today is lesson one in ‘How not to be a clueless, immature loser’, ok?”

“You’re a goddess,” he sags in relief, snickering when you sharply tell him to shut up.

And this is how you spend your shifts for the next few weeks, with Jun following you around asking questions and giving hypothetical scenarios. He attempted to rekindle things with Rin, but she’d long since moved on to a much older man with a private yacht and fat 401k. Poor kid hadn’t stood a chance. 

He hadn’t really made an effort to see anyone else either, which you pointed out one day.

“You know,” you twirl a strawberry glazed donut around your finger before taking another bite, “You ought to be putting my incredibly wise and carefully taught methods into practice. What’s the point if you stop talking to girls all together?”

Jun scoffs and spreads his arms, balancing half his weight on the broomstick in his hand. “I have been trying,” he complains, “I hooked up with this girl I met at the club and when I texted her the next day, like you said, she ghosted me.”

You hold your eyes shut for a very long time and poke your tongue in your cheek. “Ok,” you blink, “Walk me through it.”

“We danced-”

“Skip ahead, Jun,” you huff in frustration, “Your place or hers?”

“Mine.”

“I offered her a drink and asked if she wanted to play video games.”

“Christ…okay. Then what?”

“We played Mario Kart and she sucked,” Jun answers with a frown before perking up like he’s about to deliver the good news, “Then she asked if she could blow me and I said yes!”

“Thrilling,” you sip from your near empty drink and gesture for him to continue, “And did you pay attention to her?”

His smile falters and he chuckles awkwardly, “She wasn’t very good at it and seemed kinda irritated that I didn’t have a better reaction but like, isn’t it rude to fake it?”

“Did you attempt to help her in anyway? Remember the whole communication thing?”

“I was going to but then she gave up and it was kind of awkward so I suggested we go to my room to bang.”

“Verbatim?” you nearly choke on your donut, “You- nevermind,” you hold your hand up, “How was the sex?”

Jun shrugs, “Fine?”

“Fine?” you repeat, “What does ‘fine’ mean?”

He scrunches up his face. “She was so boring. Dead silent, missionary, lights off.”

You frown in thought, “That is boring,” you shake you empty cup and Jun takes it from you to refill it, “This one sounds like it’s not one-hundred percent your fault.”

“I didn’t even finish,” he laughs, handing the cup back to you, “I asked if she wanted to stay and chill but she said she didn’t think we really had anything in common so she just kinda left.”

“Why did you ask her to stay if you guys didn’t hit it off?”

“I don’t know,” he mumbles, “It felt yucky asking her to leave after we hooked up.”

“Oh, Jun,” you pout your lip out sincerely, “You’re many things, most of them being dumb, but you really are a sweetheart. I’m beginning to think half your problem is that you’re going for the wrong type.”

He accidentally bumps the register and the cash drawer comes flying out, the corner of it nailing him in the hip. He bows over and you scramble off the counter. “Shit, are you okay? I told Jim to fix the fucking drawer!”

You tug his shirt up and sure enough there is a small cut, purple and angry. “Ouch,” he says dumbly but you’re already dragging him to the back office by the arm, grumbling about giving your manager an earful when you spoke to him next. Jun patiently waits as you slam drawers and cabinets until you find a first aid kit and start grabbing things out of it.

“What do you mean I’m going for the wrong type?” he asks, wincing when you dab his cut with alcohol as gently as you can.

“Well, I don’t think you’re shallow or anything but you like pretty girls and most of time, the ones you pick, have nothing in common with you, interests or personality wise.”

“Soooo I have to find a girl who likes all the things I like?”

You snort. That’s a unicorn of a woman. “No, just find a girl who likes you for you, stupid. Someone who cares enough about you to be interested in your hobbies just because they make you happy and understands the way your tiny brain works.”

Jun hums in thought as you smooth a Band-Aid over his cut with your thumb softly. He glances down at the crown of your head and his eyes widen in shock and sudden realization .

“Like you…”

You pick your head up. “What?”

“You like me for me-”

You stand up and put your hands out about to cut him off but he advances on you, thoughts spewing from his lips in a mad dash to spell out the connection.

“You like me even though you think I'm dumb and immature. You always laugh at my jokes and listen to me talk about all the stuff I like and we play games together and you like the same kind of movies! Plus, you’re the only girl who didn’t think my collectables were weird! We have so much in common!”

“Yeah!” You shout back in a panic, “We both like girls!”

“I know! We’re perfect for each other! Wait- I thought you were bi…”

What the fuck is happening?

“I am but I haven’t been with a guy in…years,” you let out a breath as Jun takes a step back, “I’ve had like a handful of experiences with men and they’ve all been super disappointing. I haven’t even been interested in a guy because wait-”

You point your finger at him accusingly, “Are you my designated golden retriever boy?!”

Jun points to himself questioningly, “Is that a thing? I’m more of a cat gu-”

“No, no,” you push past him and start your closing duties, rushing to be finished and get out of the shop, “We’re not even entertaining this train of thought. Go do the floors.”

He purses his lips and swallows at your frantic movements deciding it’s probably in his best interest to just do as he’s told…and quickly.

He rushes around speed cleaning the floors and taking the trash out while you shut everything else down, which is relatively easy. You do get stuck counting the cash deposit four times though. Too easily distracted by your errant and wholly ridiculous thoughts. Twenty minutes later, you're locking the doors while Jun rocks on his heels, hands dug in his pockets.

“I’m sorry for making things weird,” he says quietly, “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfy.”

You drop your head, still facing the door before forcing yourself to turn and look at him, “I’m not upset with you, noodle head.”

“Promise?”

He sticks out a pinky and wiggles it.

You snort and then link your own. “Promise.”

Jun grins and bounces on his feet, “Cool. Wanna come over and watch scary movies?”

It’s one o’clock in the morning but you’re not tired and Jun is actually your favorite movie buddy because you both can talk through it without missing anything and critique the plot the whole time. Plus, he has comfy clothes and good snacks.

“I get your Karasuno hoodie.”

“Deal.”

“Dude,” you snort, biting off another piece of your sour gummy worm and twirling it around, “Can you believe they cut her out of the last film?”

Jun tosses his head back, “Right?! She was one of the best characters and her arc was trash. It was such a waste.”

He attempts to reach for the bag but keeps missing so you grab a hand full and shove it in his mouth, both your eyes still glued to the screen. It’s pitch black in the room aside from the tv and you’re both huddled up on Jun’s couch bundled in his hoodies, pajama pants, and blankets. Plus the Snorlax plushie you stole off his bed. It’s so stupid soft and squishy.

The table is littered with snacks, candy, empty noodle cups, and your bra which you carelessly ditched early on. Comfort was key on movie nights and Jun never once made it a big deal.

When the credits finally roll Jun claps like a buffoon and laughing, you stretch our your limbs, your tendency to sit like a pretzel making your joints stiff. He turns and holds up the remote. “One more?” he asks hopefully.

You hum, indecision splitting your mind. You do want to watch another but you know you’ll be too tired to drive home afterward. It would have to wait for another night and you explain as much. Jun pouts for half a second, but he never makes you feel bad when you decide to go. He grabs the things from the table and carries them all back to the kitchen while you stuff your bra and uniform into your bag. You’d bring his clothes back another time.

When Jun returns, he meets you at the door and prepares to walk down to the parking lot with you, an oddly endearing habit of his you’ve always liked. You go to grab the door handle but something makes you turn around and look at him.

He smiles back at you even though he’s not sure why you’re looking at him in the first place and a sudden curiosity overcomes you.

“Can I try something?”

“Uh,” he tilts his head in confusion, “Yeah?”

You slip your hand up to the back of his head and pull him in, pressing your lips against his...just trying it out. Jun’s hands come up in surprise but he just holds them over your hips, not quite touching you. When you pull back you just look at him, your eyes flitting from his deep brown eyes to the little mole near his lip.

“Was that weird for you?”

“No,” he shakes his head slowly.

“Ok…coo-”

Jun presses you up against the door, kissing you harder while his hands slip beneath the hoodie you’re wearing, stroking your bare skin. Your bag falls to the floor and you wrap your arms around his shoulders, sighing into his mouth just as his tongue prods along your bottom lip. He folds over you, caging you in and gripping your hips, growing more enthused with each swipe of your talented tongue against his own.

“Bedroom?” you ask between kisses and he doesn’t even answer. He simply picks you up like a cardboard standee and carries you the short distance to his room, not bothering to close the door. Instead of setting you down, like a normal person, he shifts your weight to one arm while clearing space on his bed with the other before dropping you onto the mattress with a little bounce.

“I thought you didn’t like boys,” he smirks, tearing his hoodie off and throwing it to the floor while you do the same and Jun doesn’t even pretend to look anywhere other than your bare chest.

“I don’t,” you maneuver out of your pants just barely fast enough before Jun is on the bed, hovering over you with a grin.

“Just to be clear,” he wiggles his pelvis against yours, “I have a dick.”

“I’m aware, thank you,” You snort, knocking him off of you just so you can swing a leg over his hips and smirk down at him, “Big dick and no brain cells.”

You slip your fingers beneath his waistband and run them back and forth, tickling his skin and making him giggle. Your nose twitches, smiling hard at his stupidly endearing reactions. You were so hard pressed to just admit that all the immature, boyish characteristics that made Jun who he was were some of your favorite things about him. 

This...whatever it was...is physically driven but the rest would certainly cloud the forefront of your mind come tomorrow morning.

Jun startles you out of thought suddenly, grabbing your shoulders and pulling you down until your chests are pressed together, faces mere inches apart. His thumb strokes over your cheek and you peer back curiously. “I wanna kiss you again,” he whispers.

The admittance is so soft and genuine you can’t help but ask why.

He blushes and teases his tongue at the corner of his mouth, “It’s exciting,” he breathes, eyes sparkling in the dim lighting, “Honestly, I’ve thought about kissing you before but I was afraid you’d punch me or something.”

“Wait,” you push yourself up onto your elbows, “You’ve wanted to kiss me? When?”

He hums in thought for a minute. “Uh, anytime you’ve ever laughed at my dumb jokes, rolled your eyes at me, or called me an idiot.”

“I do those things all the time.”

“Yep.”

“So…you…?”

He nods resolutely, “Yep.”

Jun groans at the feeling of your breasts pressed against his chest, your hands in his hair, your tongue dipping past his lips and he wraps his arms around you, blunt nails scratching at your sides. He sucks down air when you pull back, eyes unfocused from your sudden, overwhelming kiss and you flick him in the forehead, sighing down at him. “How dare you make me feel feelings for a man,” you chuckle, kissing the same spot, “You big dummy.”

He laughs in response and you release a strangled shout, holding on for dear life as he flips you over with a devilish grin and wastes not a second before he’s kissing and giggling his way down the length of your body. He reaches the front of your panties and looks up, tilting his head.

“I will crush your head between my thighs right this second, Junhui. Try me.”

“I’m just taking a moment to appreciate,” he marvels, running one finger down the imprint of your folds through the soft material, “Also, don’t threaten me with a good time. I love your thighs and would gladly beg for death right this second if I wasn’t about to suffocate myself in your pussy.”

Not a single woman you’d ever been with paused to say such ridiculous shit nor has any other man bothered to sound so enthused about giving head and it just another box only Jun could check for you apparently. You sigh as he crudely pushes your panties to the side but not a moment later he’s looking at you again, eager hands stretching the material unforgivingly.

“Sit on my face.”

Your neck cracks as you look down at him incredulously, “Sorry, what?”

He grins curiously, “Sit on my face, please.”

“I-” he begins putting everything in motion, tearing off your panties, “I wasn’t looking for the magic word! You…Wait-” he keeps you moving, manhandling you into a sitting position despite your babbling, “You told me you’ve never done this-”

“I haven’t,” he confirms, shimmying further down the bed to work you up and over his shoulders.

“J-Jun!” you shriek as he lifts his head and kisses your bare pussy, “I’ve only done this once with an ex-boyfriend and it did not go well!” your voice catches when he kisses you again, humming happily between your trembling thighs, “Thick girls are not made for face-sitting!”

At that, Jun stops what he’s doing and glares up at you with contempt for whichever sad bastard put that idea in your head. “And I’m the stupid one?” he mumbles under his breath before softening his face, “Do you trust me?”

Your nails dig into his hands at your hips. “With most things, no.”

He rolls his eyes and says, “Shut up,” and then he’s squeezing the junction between your hips and thighs, pulling you down onto his mouth - his hot lips kissing a sucking every ounce of hesitance away until your melting against him, struggling to hold your own weight up.

“Oh, fuck…you,” you groan when he flattens his tongue against you, eyes soft and hazy as he savors and worships his mouthful.

How Jun has ever managed to turn a girl off with this sort of talent is shocking but perhaps that’s why they stuck around as long as they did. They were more interested in his bedroom ability then any of the silly things that came out of his mouth. It makes you sort of sad and then Jun’s rolling his tongue against your clit and dragging you back and forth over his face like a deviant and you can’t seem to focus on how much of an L these girls took anymore.

The sensation has you squeezing your thighs unintentionally, squishing Jun’s cheeks between them and he groans, hands kneading your soft legs and hips. “How…are…you even…still b-breathing?”

Making him laugh is a mistake, kind of, because the vibration it causes sends a tingle up your spine and a hearty moan spills from your lips and that’s just when you give up. You give up trying to carefully hover over him. You give up clinging to some semblance of dignity. You give up the charade of acting like you don’t want to ride his face because you do and all the little poisonous bubbles of self consciousness floating around in your head begin to pop and disappear, and when you slip your fingers into his hair, he moans against you.

Jun gives immaculate head. You’re more than qualified to judge that.

Speaking of…

“Jun,” you attempt to get him to open his eyes but he’s too engrossed in making out with your pussy like it’s prom night until you pull his hair a little harder than intended and he blinks up at you. It’s almost embarrassing how messy and wet his face is when you pull off of him and he starts to complain but you carefully spin around, placing your knees on either side of his head so you can lay your body along the length of his and push down his boxers.

“Sixty-Nine,” Jun chuckles, grabbing a pillow to prop his head closer and then he’s reaching for your hips again, “Cool.”

You blink eight more times than necessary and swallow the laugh building in your chest to instead take him in your hand. It almost feels foreign, having been so long since you’ve actually let anyone with a cock near you but Jun’s is not half bad. More than decent length, a little bit of girth, hint of a curve - if anything your just intrigued by the fact that you had actually wanted to see it, touch it, put it in your mouth and see what sort of reaction Jun had when you teased it.

His tongue playfully pokes at your clit the same time you lean down and circle yours around the tip of his cock and he sighs against you, warm breath making you roll your hips back against him in time with the way you take him in your mouth, experimenting to figure out what makes him happiest. Judging by the hands on your ass that squeeze and flex when you take him as far as you can and come back up to suckle on the head, that’s probably his favorite.

It gets harder and harder to maintain a pace the more enthused Jun becomes, especially when he pushes two long fingers into your cunt, lapping at your throbbing clit over and over. No doubt, on the list of reasons why Jun’s relationships never worked out - giving out orgasms was not in the top ten because when your legs begin shaking around him and his cock pops out from between your lips on a long moan he flattens his tongue and drags it back and forth messily until you’re cumming hard and collapsing on top of him, head rested against his thigh.

“I can’t see,” you murmur as Jun gently rolls you over, giggling at the empty, fucked out expression on your face, “I can’t feel my legs.”

“Mmm,” He hums with a goofy flat smile, “A bit dramatic but I’m flattered…so, uh, do you wanna just like wait here while I,” he points toward the bathroom and you furrow your brows, “And then we can watch youtube or something?”

You prop yourself up on your elbows and give him a funny look, “Are you going to jack off in the bathroom? Alone?”

Jun opens and then closes his mouth and then opens it again, ”Well…I, yeah I’m mean unless you wanted to like…should I not?”

“You’re the eighth wonder of the world,” you shake your head, chuckling in disbelief, “Do you not want to have sex with me?”

Jun’s eyes widen, “What kind of question is that?”

“So, you’re not having sex with me right now because…..?”

“I wasn’t sure if you wanted to,” he answers right away and you have the sudden urge to both smack him upside the head and kiss the living daylights out of him.

The latter wins out and you press your lips to his sweetly, your hand gently cradling the side of his head and you pull back to meet his eyes. “It seems as though we still have a few lessons to go on ‘how to read women’. Letting a girl ride your face for twenty minutes while she sucks your dick is pretty indicative that she’s into you and also in the mood to have sex. If you still can’t tell…it’s okay to ask.”

“Should we start over?” He asks already reaching for your body and you laugh swatting at his chest, “I’m kidding!” he grins and then his voice is so quiet and sincere, “Are you really sure? We don’t have to-”

“Jun,” you stop him with another kiss, “I’m sure. Do you have condoms?”

He scoffs, “Of course I do,” and then he’s getting up out of bed and opening the first drawer of his dresser, pulling something from the back corner.

“....Is that a poke ball? You keep your condoms…in a poke ball?!”

The red, white, and black ball is all too familiar and Jun turns toward you, splitting the ball open and flashing a gold wrapper in your direction. “Uh, yeah,” he whispers, “Gotta catch em all.”

Laughter spills from your lips freely and Jun grins so hard his cheeks hurt because you actually appreciate his juvenile sense of humor unlike every other girl he’s ever dated. Maybe you were right and he’s been going after the wrong type all along and maybe he’ll be lucky enough to be given a chance to prove how perfectly suited the two of you were for each other.

He realizes it’s something he really wants to put effort into and something clicks in his brain. A memory of the two of you at Yo-Nuts, talking while you tossed gummy bears at Jun one at a time for him to catch like a seal, most of which bounced off his face. You had told him that if he really wanted something, if he truly desired to pursue a real relationship, then he had to put forth the effort. 

Pay attention to her, really listen when she speaks, let her know you’re there for her, lift her up, make her laugh, make her feel appreciated and understood.

It had sometimes felt like a chore and one mostly unreciprocated.

Except when it came to you. It was so easy and he realized that not only did he freely do these things for you without even knowing but you did the same for him. The teasing and name-calling was all surface level and never intended to be hurtful but beneath all that, Jun knew how much you cared about him. He just never considered there could be a different side to this relationship and now that he sees the potential…

“Jun,” your voice suddenly pierces through his hurricane of thoughts and feelings and he blinks rapidly as you look up at him in concern, “I lost you for like a solid two minutes. Are you okay?”

He shakes his head and laughs it off, “I’m good, sorry. I was just- nevermind…conversation for a different day I think. Did my zombie trance kill the mood?”

Your tongue pokes between your lips in amusement and you slowly shake your head, “No, but it wouldn’t hurt if you hurried the fuck up and played with my tits while you’re at it.”

If his dick wasn’t rock solid already, it is impossibly so right now.

He fumbles with the wrapper, pulling out the condom and rolling it over himself with record speed and then he’s pressed against you, pushing your thigh up, fingers imprinting your skin. The weight of his cock between your folds makes you swallow hard and he uses his free hand to squeeze and knead your breasts, rolling his thumb over your nipples as he coats himself in your wetness, tip poking at your hole.

You accidentally hold your breath when he breaches you slowly, trying to ease his way between your tight walls without hurting you or going cross-eyed at the pressure himself. “Are you okay?” he asks about half-way in, pausing to let you take a deep breath, “Not that I think I have like the most massive dick on the planet bu-”

“It’s f-fine, I know what you mean,” you let out a strained huff of amusement, “It’s still a big dick and the only one that isn’t made of silicone or attached to a body in some fashion that I’ve had in a long time. I’m appreciative but I’m okay - this is okay, Jun.”

The reassurance comforts him and he carefully pushes forward until he’s bottomed out but he doesn’t sit still, instead he starts a slow, shallow sort of rhythm, watching your face with each stroke, still massaging your breasts in one large hard while the other remains firmly attached to your plush thigh. He watches, waiting for that little bit of tension to melt from your features and when it does, he doesn’t hesitate to pick up the pace, drawing his hips back further and driving them home deeper.

Jun can’t get enough between the soft faces and pretty sounds you make, and the way your tender flesh feels beneath his fingers, taking handfuls and drowning in just how much he wants to touch you and please you. Never has he been so utterly enthralled in a partner and maybe that’s because there is so much more than sex involved in your relationship. 

He knows he’s slipping right back into dangerous territory but he can’t help it.

Especially not when you reach down to play with your own clit, big doe eyes trained on his, long delicate lashes drawing his attention to your flushed face.

Jun is pretty sure he has never been so excited to cum in his life though he wouldn’t dare voice that, lest you mock him for eternity. He doesn’t really mind though. He sometimes thinks he has some masochistic kink considering the amount of times he’s popped a boner over your smart mouthed, half-hearted insults.

“I think I'm in love with you,” he breathes out accidentally, brain too full of lust and hot air to filter what comes out of his mouth.

“I think you’re thinking with your dick,” you all but moan back to him, cutting your breath short when he pushes both of your legs forward, pressing down on your thighs to angle your hips up.

  Jun smirks which is a stupidly hot look on him. “Ah, but my dick and my heart are very closely connected.”

“Guess that makes sense since you have no brain.”

“Shut up.”

You do the opposite, however, no real words come out. Only incoherent strings of encouragement or flat out begging that you will refuse to acknowledge and deny until the end of days pours from your open lips with a clear end in sight. All it takes is a few more rough strokes and he’s pushing so deeply inside that your body gives up and orgasms so abruptly that Jun jerks forward, emptying himself into the condom almost violently as he shakes and groans.

There are several long extended moments of silence as you both attempt to catch your breath and figure out what to say to one another. He attempted to pull out at one point but even that brief bit of movement sent a shockwave through your body and you tugged him down to lay on top of you, forbidding him to move with a barrage of intricate threats.

The problem is that five minutes later, Jun is now too comfortable and half asleep and you’re smooshed under his long, lanky frame.

“Jun,” you mumble against his throat, making him wiggle, “Jun, you need to move.”

He giggles but it’s more so a physical reaction than anything else because his neck is so ticklish and he whispers back, “Noooo~ stay…”

“I’m not leaving dummy,” you roll him onto his back, shuddering at the sudden empty feeling, “We both need to get cleaned up.”

He hums, eyes still firmly shut and you roll your own toward the ceiling. “If you sleep with a condom on your dick will lose circulation and fall off in the middle of the night.”

He springs out of bed so quickly he nearly knocks you over but he grabs the blankets and folds them over you so you don’t fall off the edge as he trips and nearly eats the ground. Finally steadied, he grins down at you and offers a hand up, “I would feel like a loser if it was anyone other than you who witnessed that.”

“You are a loser,” you smirk, “Kind of a hot loser though.”

Jun tilts his chin up confidently, “She loves me.”

“No, I don’t.”

“She does,” he sings, pulling you toward his bathroom, “Do you wanna have a sleepover?”

“No.”

“Ok, perfect! I like to cuddle!”

And then fifteen minutes later you’re both passed out in Jun’s bed - snoring and all. You’re not the prettiest sleeper and neither is he and you’re definitely both waking up a little sweaty because Jun sleeps like an octopus, clinging to you with long limbs no matter how many times you accidentally elbow him in the gut. It’s comfortable though, too comfortable, and that’s something you’ll be thinking of for the days and weeks to come.

“Smash or Pass,” Jun tosses his wet rag in the sink, just having finished cleaning the toppings counter during your usual night shift a few weeks later, “Edward or Jacob?”

You scoff, keeping your voice down considering there were actually a few customers that had rolled in. “Pass on both,” you wipe around the register, throwing your rag in the sink next to his, “The correct answer is Jasper and all other options…other than Alice…are invalid.”

Jun nods slowly, “Smashhhhh...you’re right,” agreeing with your answer and then he shrugs, “Jacob was hotter than Edward - kinda creepy though like no means no….and don’t get me started on the whole renaissance thing.”

You snort, loudly, he avoids saying the kid’s actual name at all costs and the replacements are always top tier. “Wait - who is the ultimate twilight smash? 3-2-1…”

“Charlie,” you both say at the same time, grinning at your cultured tastes.

“Ultimate smash number 2?” he asks and you both respond, “Sam,” within a matter of seconds.

Jun laughs, a hand on his hip, “I don’t know what it is but you just get me.”

You chuckle, turning away from the counter but it ends in a frown when you dip your finger beneath the material of your shirt and find a fro-yo stain at the bottom. “Junhuiii~” you sigh without looking, “I’ll brb, gotta go see if I can rinse this stain out.”

Jun nods and busies himself organizing the donut display though there isn’t much to organize. The pace at night is either steady or so quiet there isn’t much to maintain unlike the day-time rush. The two of you have things pretty spotless by the time you leave each night. 

The door chimes and Jun looks up with a big smile on his face that drops into an awkward tight grimace.

“Oh, hey, Rin,” he greets as his ex-something, they had never actual had a label, approaches the register “N-need a donut?”

Rin smiles and leans on the counter, “Long time no see, Wen Junhui. You haven’t returned my call.”

Jun looks out into the dining room as if some random patron can save him from the awkward situation but alas, none jump to their feet. “You didn’t leave me a message…”

He chuckles nervously and presses his finger to the counter, “You know…beeeeeep.”

She blinks long and hard, attempting to squash her temper. “I see you’ve grown so much,” she sighs to herself and then schools a smile onto her pretty face, “Anyway, we should go out, catch up over dinner…how’s tomorrow for you?”

“Uhhh, don’t you have like a guy, like a boy-,” he’s kind of old, “Man, uh, friend?”

Rin shifts uncomfortably, “David isn’t the jealous type and besides,” she leans in further and reaches for Jun’s arm, “I’ve missed you.”

“Hey, did you call for me?” you say suddenly and Jun turns to find you coming up to his side, pulling his arm out of reach with wide eyes and a sigh of relief. Rin retracts her hand and glances down at your fingers ghosting over Jun’s, narrowing her eyes.

She points her manicured finger in accusation. “Are you two together or something?”

“Yes,” you say before Jun has a chance to answer and his eyes grow wider if possible, not leaving your face for one second as you glare at Rin across the counter.

Rin laughs and you smile. “Jun, go check on the security cameras in the office.”

He stares at the space above your head for a moment then looks back down with furrowed brows, “Wait, those don’t wo-”

“Right, they don’t work,” you drawl in a flat tone, still staring at Rin who seems to be losing a bit of steam, “Must have forgot. Go sweep.”

“But-”

“Junhui,” You look at him with a tight smile, “Go sweep.”

He wearily shuffles away and you set your eyes back on Rin. “What are you doing here?”

“Look,” she flips her long hair over her shoulder condescendingly, as if she’s about to impart you with real-world wisdom, “Girl to girl, he’s hot and a great lay, but save yourself the trouble. He’s a man child who cares more about his little dolls and made up characters than he ever will about you.”

“Oh? Is that why you were here trying to ask him out again?”

Rin’s mouth falls open slightly and she goes to speak but you beat her to it.

“Because your super mature, rich, sugar daddy boyfriend is what? Incredibly sad in the sack?” you grit your teeth, frowning in faux-sympathy, “Probably only talks about golf and sailing and 401ks, huh? Lasts like 10 minutes and grunts a lot, hmm? You must be so bored.”

Rin gets angry but she doesn’t yell, too aware of the other people within earshot if she were to raise her voice. “At least he pays attention to me and cares about things other than movies and video games! Dating Jun was like babysitting an overgrown teenager!”

You place both hands on either side of the register, “Have you ever thought that maybe you’re a boring, vapid bitch and you have nothing in common with Jun - who is incredibly thoughtful and intuitive with me by the way,” you narrow your eyes and whisper, “Sounds like that was a you problem - and now you’re here thinking you can walk right in and have him back? As if what? He was just waiting for you to call him back to your side? Like a dog?”

She opens her mouth to argue and you hold up a hand, “Listen, Rin, you’re a smart girl, so I know you’ll understand when I tell you that if you attempt to disrespect Jun like this, ever again, I will shove a fistful of crushed peanuts so far down your throat that pretty face will swell up before you reach the door.”

Rin gasps in horror and you tilt your head, “What? You thought Jun wasn’t listening when you mentioned your deathly serious allergy the first time you met? Ah, it seems he does pay attention - not that you cared enough to notice even though he refused peanut butter everything, which he loves, from the moment he met you, always asked if things were made with peanut oil, etcetera, god forbid he hurt you in some way for being exposed himself.”

She stutters, “I…I d-didn’t know-”

“Of course you didn’t,” you come around the counter and Rin backs toward the door the closer you get, “Now get the fuck out of my building before I-”

The words fall out in a shriek of surprise as Jun runs up behind you, loops an arm around your middle and picks you up, quickly carrying you back behind the counter, “Bye Rin!” he says hastily, “You probably shouldn’t come back…like ever!”

A few customers stare at Rin who quickly disappears through the doors and to you being physically escorted around the counter and out of sight before they go back to their treats. It’s too late for them to make it their business it seems. 

Jun doesn’t put you down until you’re in the tiny back office and once he does you cross your arms, “What was that for?! I was handling it.”

He flashes a smile and then rushes forward to kiss you, clumsily running your back into an old filing cabinet but his arms are there to cushion the blow and you’re too busy thinking about how soft his lips are to complain about anything at the moment anyhow. Eventually one hand cradles the back of your head and he eases back, giggling at your closed lids. “Thank you for sticking up for me,” he says quietly and you pop your eyes open, looking back at him.

“You’re welcome,” you whisper, eyes caught on the sincere smile he offers.

Jun lets out a little puff of amusement. “So, we’re together?”

You groan, pushing him back though he clings onto you, unwillingly to let you get away so easily, “I was just saying that to make her leave you alone. I told you we’re not dating.”

He furrows his brows teasingly, “Seriously? I put on the sexy maid costume for you and we had an hour long discussion about pegging. We’re totally dating.”

Laughter knots your stomach and you try to wiggle out of his long arms, “You liked it more than I did, rat boy! Let me go!”

“No!” he struggles to hold his grip on your squirming and twisting, “You’re so cute and I wanna hold you!”

“We’re working!” you hiccup after giggling so hard, “Unhand me you cheeseball!”

Jun suddenly lets you go but catches your hand, grinning like a fool. “Say ‘Jun is my cool, hot boyfriend that I’m totally in love with’ and I’ll let you go.”

You mumble a bunch of words under your breath and tug your arm to no avail, “Wen Junhui, loser extraordinaire, is sort of good looking-”

“And?” Jun raises his chin, eyes peering down patiently.

“- And maybe, is my friend boy, that I l-”

“Love,” he fills in, nodding as he feeds you words.

You fake gag, “Love…in a totally platonic way-”

Jun gasps and your eyes light up, “Liar!” he laughs, “Say it!”

You’re such a liar and you both know it. It’s been weeks now that you’ve practically been attached at the hip - going out, staying in, watching movies, playing games, talking and laughing all the time. Not to mention you’re in his apartment in a t-shirt and underwear more often than you’re in your own these days.

“Having a boyfriend is really going to kill my game with the ladies but I guess if I have to have one, you’re the best option and maybe I do love you just a little. Like the smallest amount. A crumb from the world’s tiniest cookie. Microscopic. I barely like you.”

Jun beams, “Good enough for me,” he loosens his grip and you walk back up the the front to check on things. You’ve both been gone a little too long.

“Since you’re my girlfriend can I call you cute names? Baby, sweetheart, honey, angel,” he offers and you look over your shoulder with a grimace, “Lover, goddess, beloved mistress of the night…”

“Jun…those are terrible and I'm going to drown you in strawberry fro-yo if you do not shut up or if anyone on this god forsaken earth ever hears you call me those things out loud.”

“Yes, my beautiful rat queen. Whatever you wish,” he bows comically and you flap your hand loose from his grip, running back up to the register but Jun is never more than three feet behind you. “Hey, you’re still coming home with me right?”

You ignore him, aimlessly poking at the screen and he leans beside you, still whispering discreetly, “Mingyu finally let me borrow his guitar hero because I told him it’s your favorite…and it’s the original…”

You finally look up at him and he grins, knowing he’s got you.

“Jun is my cool, hot boyfriend that I’m totally in love with,” you murmur and then you look out into the dining room finding only one customer left in the building, pointing him out to Jun, “The sooner he leaves the sooner we get to go play. You know what to do.”

Jun stretches and cracks his knuckles, “I’m about to make this man so uncomfortable.”

“I have faith in you,” you pat his shoulder, chuckling, “Make me proud, dummy.”

He tries kissing you before he walks away but his lips meet the palm of your hand.

“Sorry, I only kiss rat boys who can beat me in guitar hero, you’ll have to wait.”

He walks and then stops, looking very serious and contemplative, “Ok but you can’t play it with Mingyu or Woozi then because they’re like really good and you can only kiss me.”

“I’m not kissing anyone unless you get us out of here.”

“Right,” he focuses his gaze on the poor soul in the corner of the dining room and grins, “Be ready to leave in ten minutes,” and then he’s moving and you’re left giggling behind the counter.

Yeah, he’s still kind of a loser but he’s your loser now and that somehow just feels right. 

You know what else feels right?

Giving Jun that overdue wedgie the second you clock out and listening to him complain all the way home that you’re an actual super villain for waiting months for him to let his guard down just to turn around and desecrate his honor in the Yo-Nuts parking lot. All while holding your hand in the car.

Jun is probably right. You two are perfect for each other. 

Thanks for reading! 

SVT M.List | Main M.List

“Y/N, can you scoop out a cup of rice and put it evenly on these plates?” Jun asks, preoccupied with preparing the rest of the food for your children. No, you weren’t married to Jun or shared any actual kids but he always referred to his cats as his fur babies. You were used to his antics and gained the habit of calling them your children as well. He was raising nine cats at the cafe, which certainly wasn’t an easy feat. You often helped him prepare meals for the cats on the days that his cafe was closed, to which he was always extremely grateful. He usually fed them a very standard meal, full of dry kibble, wet food, and some cat ‘soup’ that all the cats went crazy for, but once in a blue moon he fed them especially well. Today was one of those days where he had prepared rice, pieces of chicken breast, and cat-friendly gravy for them to feast like royalty. You knew that Jun loved all animals and was caring, but his attentiveness and kindness towards them that he had never ceased to amaze you. You and Jun had met at a local cat shelter four years ago. While it had been a long time since then, you smiled to yourself every time you thought of how you met each other. 

You were jumping with joy walking into the shelter, excited that you had finally been able to convince your roommates to adopt a cat for you all to raise when you bumped into something tall and heavy. You thought it was a shelf at the entrance, but to your roommates’ horror it was a guy walking out with a bag of cat food that had to weigh at least 30 pounds. You heard a muffled, “Watch out!” but it was too late and the inside of your clothes were now full of cat food, not to mention the floor having spilled kibbles as well. Since the shelter was having a community visit day to promote adopting, all the cats were out to be held and pet by people.

Seeing this as their opportunity to eat endless amounts of food, all the cats ran towards you and the person with the spilled bag and your friends hurriedly picked up kittens and cats alike to prevent an even greater disaster. Realizing the situation you apologize to the mysterious man holding dry food and the two of you begin to scoop up as much kibble as you can to put it back into the bag. “I’m sorry I bumped into you, the bag is so big that I couldn’t really see in front of me.” You hear him apologize while you both scramble to pick up the mess you created. “Why are you apologizing? I should be the one apologizing, I mean I practically ran into you because I was too excited. That’s like rule number one for how a kid should behave in public, don’t run around. I’m worse than a kid when it comes to cats.” You ramble still disappointed with yourself for causing such a mess when it was supposed to be a happy day.

“No, I can understand that. I go crazy over cats when I think about them too.” He hadn’t intended to stay as long as he did at the shelter, but talking to you wasn’t helping his resolution to not adopt another cat this year. 

“Are you adopting one today? You must have a lot of cats if you need this big of a bag for their food.” You ask, attempting to make more conversation.

“I wish I was! I actually run a cat cafe about three blocks away, when I have excess food towards the end of the month I usually bring it here for the other cats to eat for free. Also over half of the cats are from this shelter, still waiting to get officially adopted so I come here often with them to see their shelter buddies.” He explains while his smile grows wider the more he thinks about his cats.

“Wow, that’s so cool! What’s the name of the cafe? We’ll definitely check it out sometime.” You smile at the guy in front of you, motioning to your roommates and yourself indicating that you all would visit. 

“Oh, it’s called Jun’s Critters! A bit embarrassing to admit but my name is Jun and I couldn’t really think of any creative names when I was ordering a sign to hang up in the front of the building.” Jun tells you as the amount of spilled food finally begins to dwindle, returning to its original location in the bag.  

“It’s catchy! Nothing to be embarrassed about.” You reply, picking up some of the final pieces of kibble. 

“Could we visit with the cat that we adopt from the shelter?” Your friend asks, breaking the focus that you and Jun had on each other.

Slightly flustered, Jun quickly responds to your friend, “Of course, that shouldn’t be an issue! I’ll also give you free drinks as a way to say sorry.” 

Your friends high five each other at the deal they just struck with Jun and you laugh at them, reminded again of how much you appreciated having them as roommates. 

After your first encounter with Jun, you visited his cafe almost every day after work, becoming a ritual of sorts. Your roommates had gotten close to Jun as well, but they would visit with much less frequency, around once every month. You soon realized that he was the most warm-hearted person you had ever met and what you thought was a platonic crush quickly solidified itself as a full-blown romantic crush. You were sure that Jun didn’t reciprocate your feelings, but you were fine with that. Being his friend was enough for you to be happy, being by his side even if it was purely friendship still made your heart quicken each time you saw him.

Laying down the bowls for each cat, you snap out of your thoughts to ask, “Jun, is the placement of the food fine?” 

Little to your knowledge, today had been the most anxiety-inducing day of Jun’s life. After seeking advice from his friends Minghao and Renjun about three weeks ago, they had convinced him to muster up the courage to confess to you. He had stayed up numerous nights, trying to think of the best way to express his feelings. Each method of confessing seemed to be too small to communicate the extent to which he loved you. Eventually, he had realized the best way to confess was through the way in which you bonded the most. He had written out ten of the most standout reasons why he loved you, attaching each to the collars of the cats at the cafe. The tenth reason was to be said aloud to you from Jun, which was the part of this confession that he was most nervous about.

Noticing the numbered paper on each cats’ collar, you pick number one and unravel it. “These are ten reasons why I love you:” Before you can read the rest of the note, you look up to look for Jun but he disappeared from his seat next to the kitchen. Still confused at the situation, you pet the orange cat next to you and continue to read the note in Jun’s handwriting, “One - the way the corners of your eyes slightly wrinkle when you’re really happy.” Again, you look for Jun but he was missing from the cafe all together. Continuing to unravel each note from the collars, you’re overcome with emotions. Your love for Wen Junhui wasn’t one-sided? He loves you just as much as you love him. The truth of that statement still wasn’t setting into your mind as you read the ninth note, with the back finally revealing Jun’s location. You run out to the parking lot, searching for Jun to meet him and immediately tell him that you’ve loved him for over half of your friendship. 

Jun was by your car, holding your favorite flowers, information that he had gotten from your roommates. You run to him, still amazed that he had spent so much time planning this event. Not giving you a chance to respond to his confession just yet, Jun grins at you, “Ten - your need to run whenever you’re excited about something.” 

(back to the seventeen list)

no smut

makout session & getting caught (fluff, suggestive)

classics (smut)

do you think they can hear us? yes we can (smut)

if you don't like my teasing, why are you moaning? (smut)

playtime (smut)

morning (smut)

rough (smut)

the cat's meow (smut, camboy!au)

alternate universe (magics, gods, royalty, etc...)

only place i call home (smut, werewolf!au)

with another member

The good thing about Jun was that he slept all day, but so did you. That meant you didn’t have to deal with him for the day, but you did have to figure out where he was going to sleep, and you had to make sure you didn’t lose him or let him escape. So that unfortunately meant you had to keep him in your room with you.

“Ooh, sharing a bed, huh?” he smirked, wiggling his eyebrows as you closed the door to your bedroom. He looked over at you, leaning toward you a little more than he should’ve. “You know what that usually leads to.”

“Actually, you’re sleeping on the floor,” you grinned, pressing the pad of your index finger against his forehead and pushing his face away from yours.

He narrowed his eyes at you, his mouth dropping open as he just stared before asking, “Why am I taking the floor? Do you know how badly that’ll fuck up my back?”

“You’re basically dead!”

“And that automatically means I don’t value comfort?” Jun scoffed, rolling his eyes as he strolled over to one side of your bed. “I still sleep on a bed, y’know. Oh, _____, my sweet, stupid girl...”

He sighed as he shook his head at you slowly before plopping down on your bed.

“You know I can just shoot you if you piss me off enough, right?” you reminded him. “Get the hell off my bed.”

“Actually, you need me alive,” he grinned, mimicking you as he pointed a finger at you. “Your boss will have your ass if you kill me, because I’m your greatest weapon against the vampires in Japan. Or did you already forget all that? Huh, some vampire hunter you are -- forgetting orders all willy-nilly. But I guess I understand -- my looks and charm are pretty distracting, huh?”

“You talk so fucking much,” you groaned.

It would definitely be a long day.

-

Before the two of you left for your flight, Junhui had to go talk to these ‘brothers’ he mentioned to Jicheol. He requested protection for them and mentioned they might be willing to help, stating he’d ‘talk to them’. So that’s what you had to do before the flight later that night.

Jun was covered in black, his clothing covering every inch of his body -- his black zip-up hoodie covered his hands with sweater paws, and he had his hood pulled up to keep his face hidden in shadows. The sun was beginning to set at he led you to what looked like a junkyard that must’ve been abandoned. It was on the outskirts of the city, overlooking the sea. It was kind of pretty despite the spray painted gang signs everywhere and all the junk laying around.

“Is this where you live?” you asked, making a face as Jun walked into the building at the junkyard -- a decently-sized warehouse that was completely empty and seemed deserted. 

“Not all of us can rent apartments, _____,” he reminded you in a sarcastic tone. You also didn’t catch the side-eye he gave you.

“So...where are your...brothers or whatever?” you wondered. “We kind of have places to be.”

“Probably still sleeping,” he shrugged.

“Well we--”

“Surprise,” a new voice rang out. You whipped around to see a boy with midnight black hair lounging on a beam above the door with a smirk on his face, “we’re wide awake. Nice to see you, Junnie -- we thought you were killed off by roaches.” 

You frowned, looking at Junhui, “Roaches, huh?”

“You call us parasites and it’s fine, but we have a rude name for you and it’s suddenly mean?” he scoffed before turning his attention back to the boy in the rafters. “What’re you doing up there, Soon?”

The boy merely shrugged before dropping down like it was nothing, landing crouched on his feet before straightening up, “I was worried there were intruders since I sensed ro-- Sorry, hunter.”

“Speaking of,” yet another new voice -- this one from behind you and coming from a slim male with round glasses who stood on the balcony -- spoke up and startled you, “why do you have a hunter with you?”

“Early breakfast?” the first boy offered.

“No, this is my new girlfriend,” Junhui grinned. “We’re joined at the hip. She can’t bear to have me leave her side.”

“You were captured, weren’t you?” the vampire on the balcony assumed.

“Captured is a strong word, Wonwoo.”

“But it’s the correct word,” you butted in. “Who are these guys anyway?”

“This is Soonyoung and Wonwoo. Guys, this is the lovely and cheerful _____,” Jun introduced you. “The other two are...?”

“Late, apparently,” another new voice spoke up.

Two boys were walking through the door Junhui had left open. One was taller and much more muscular than the other. The other one was very thin but somehow well-dressed.

“And there’s Mingyu and Minghao,” Jun nodded. “Nice timing.”

“Were you really captured by roaches, Junhui?” Mingyu giggled. “That’s hilarious.”

“And you led them to us,” Minghao eyed you almost boredly, but there was definitely a hint of disgust. “How considerate of you.”

“Yeah, what the fuck were you thinking?” Wonwoo questioned.

“Alright, now just hear me out,” Jun said, putting his hands up to silence his brothers. “The hunters _____ works for want me to help them take out a group in Tokyo, and I said I’d only help if they promised your safety -- by the way, you’re welcome.”

“You want us to thank you?” Minghao scoffed. “How are we supposed to trust them? They literally kill us for a living! Who says they won’t turn around a fuck us over when they get what they want?”

Even you had to admit that he had a point -- and you were silently hoping it was the case.

“Well it’s either I said no and they killed me on the spot, or I agreed and hoped I could find an out before that happened,” Junhui growled. “What did you want me to do, huh?”

“Not bring one of ‘em here, that’s for sure,” Soonyoung muttered, scratching the back of his head.

“Eh, it’s five against one,” Mingyu shrugged.

“Anyway,” Jun continued, “they asked if you guys would help and I said I’d talk to you. So here we are.”

“You want us to help?” Wonwoo asked before laughing at Junhui. “Yeah, hard pass.”

“I think I’d rather rip off my fingernails and watch them grow back,” Mingyu replied.

“Nobody’s putting my life on the line for not helping, so I’m staying home,” Soonyoung nodded. 

“And who’s to say we can’t just overpower sweet cheeks over here and run off?” Mingyu wondered, nodding his head toward you.

‘Wonderful,’ you thought to yourself, ‘another one who’s just as gross as Junhui.’

“Because they’ve not only got a tracker on him,” you finally spoke up now, “but I’m sure they’re watching our every move right now to make sure that doesn’t happen.”

“Again, we ask: why did you lead them to us?” Wonwoo asked.

“Then we should get outta here before they can jump us,” Soonyoung decided, stretching out his limbs. “It’s been nice knowing ya, Junnie!”

“You’re really just gonna ditch me?!” Jun exclaimed.

“Nothing personal,” Mingyu shrugged as Soonyoung climbed one of the beams up to the skylight, pushing the window open just enough for him to climb through. Then he followed Soonyoung out, jumping up to the balcony before climbing the beam as well.

“You got yourself into this mess,” Minghao began, already turning to go the same way Mingyu and Soonyoung had, “so you can get yourself out. You’ve been on your own before, anyway.”

“Yeah,” Wonwoo agreed, “you’ll be fine.”

“I thought we were supposed to be brothers!” Junhui spat as Minghao exited the building.

“That’s the problem, Junhui,” Wonwoo said, “you think.”

He paused to wink at him, before he was gone the same way the other three were.

Jun scoffed and kicked the ground, “Whatever. It’s stupid for vampires to trust other vampires anyway. They’ll stab you in the back over the dumbest fucking things.”

“I don’t think a life or death situation is that dumb,” you shrugged, leading the way out of the warehouse. “I do think you’re dumb, though.”

“Wow, you’re really gonna kick a guy while he’s down?” he sighed dramatically before leaning all his weight against you. You had to stop walking, struggling to push him away. “_____, I need you to comfort me right now. I’m in a really low place. Maybe a kiss would make me feel better.”

“I’d rather swallow a bullet,” you huffed, finally shoving him away enough to keep walking.

He quickly fell back in step beside you with a laugh, “Are you sure?”

“Oh, positive.”

“My favorite blood type!” he grinned. “And guess what, _____? I checked your file and saw that’s exactly what you are! We really are meant to be!”

“How the hell did you see my file?!” you demanded.

“I stole it,” he shrugged.

You stopped and gawked at him, “How?”

“It’s not hard. It’s in my suitcase.”