#guanhang smut

[haet-sal]

Tatsächlich Liebe (Love, Actually)//jun x fem!reader (smut included)

Tags: cute single dad!boss!jun with a crush, mini-wen involved, office romance, shower sex, public sex, sort of cheating bc you have a sort-of-boyfriend, pining i suppose?, jun with a crush, went a little ANGSTY, Bestie!minghao

You’re the wide-eyed, clueless-but-on-top secretary to Wen Junhui, and it all starts, with one new year’s kiss… well, new year’s fuck.

Mr. Wen likes you. It should have been obvious, whenever he seemed to forgive your inadequate work ethics and frequent unfailing mishaps, and how much he trusted you, no matter how many mistakes you made, how much he hated hearing about your life with your boyfriend… and what kind of boss goes shopping for their employee, privately, anyway?

Warnings: y/n is incredibly seductive and more dominant and a bit of a fuckgirl, anxious Jun, cheating, Guanhang from nct is here as your very mean and distant bf

W.c.: 11k

~~~~~

You might not be very good at your job. And you realize this when you spill Jun’s coffee for the fifth time since you started working (6 months now). That was 0.8 coffees per month.

Times 2, and 3: You forgot to cap the coffee all the way right, after opening it because you FORGOT to ask for the sugar and you had to open it, put a packetful in, stir and cap it again, and Jun spills it on his shirt on his first attempt to drink it. Your penalty: Jun offers a tight lipped smile and caps it himself. “That’ll be all, thanks, Y/n.”

Time 1: you didn’t lay the cup right on his desk. It only spilled maybe 4 drops. Yay. That’s a win, in the book of Y/n. Penalty: nothing.

Time 4, the worst of them all: YOU SPILLED IT ON THE DOCUMENTS HE HAD ON HIS DESK. You don’t even know how, but the full fucking cup spilled. Penalty: “I got it, thanks,” Jun said (thanks for what? He lost documents and three quarters of his coffee) “could you print these again?”

Time 5: this time the coffee didn’t even make it onto his desk, you trip and spill it on yourself. To be fair, you were carrying the lunch orders of the others in your office, so it was a precarious situation.

“I’ll go get a new one!” you called out, since Jun was watching from behind the foggy, half translucent glass door of his office, where he could definitely see you from the way he was angled, but you only saw a part of his dark oakwood table.

There would be a line at the cafe, it was lunch time. But you were determined to make yourself important and cut in line, no matter what it took. “I WORK FOR THE BOSS” would be one thing you could say.

As you head back for the elevator, Jun’s head peeks out of the aforementioned glass door. “y/n,” he called—you like that he never called you like he was demanding your presence, like a rude guest you were waiting on, but rather… softly. Jun just had a softness to him. “Hey, actually, forget the coffee, if it’s not here—can you go get one of those donuts with sprinkles on it?”

“Pink,” came a very boyish little voice from behind the door.

“Pink, with sprinkles, like Homer Simpson eats.”

You walk back to the office, and open it wider, so the little boy could finally appear to you. “Hey, mini-Mr. Wen. Would you like to walk there with me, so you can pick what you’d like?” Jun was very paranoid, but also a very at-ease parent. Meaning: he did let his son go places without him, with other guardians, but also had a terrible anxiety that left him imagining all the worst scenarios until the boy was back in front of his eyes. And yet, you still asked, because you knew Jun was busy. He couldn’t be watching the kid right now.

Hao—that was his name, ‘inspired’ by his father’s love for his best friend, although Jun would say he lost a bet and that’s all it was—nodded, but he wasn’t walking on his feet: he immediately extended both arms out for you to carry him. “Alright, buddy! Let’s go!”

Jun managed a half-absentminded, half-grateful smile at you, mouthing his thanks. And then the door closed.

“Donuts,” Hao says quietly.

“Yes, donuts! We’re getting donuts, getting donuts…” you sang as you walked towards the elevator.

.

Today Jun’s aforementioned best friend and trades partner was in the office with him, because he wanted to come see his little namesake. As Minghao talked business and life with Jun, he saw how relaxed Jun usually was, rather than be the ball of anxiety he turned into whenever his son was somewhere in public not holding onto his own hand.

“You actually trust that intern,” Minghao drew his conclusions.

“She’s permanently employed!” Jun says with a smile. “Do you want me to text her and tell her to bring you a coffee?”

“Where’s yours?”

“She…” There was no way to sugarcoat this in a way that Minghao would feel sympathetic towards you. “Kinda spilled it.”

“... You permanently employed a secretary who couldn’t even bring you coffee.” Seeing Jun’s shocked eyes (how dare you bring that up, Minghao! He was probably thinking), Minghao continued: “didn’t she cause that delay with that shipping company because of her other-and-frequent mishaps, and you had to ask them to deliver the papers all over again? Why would you keep her after that?”

“I don’t know,” Jun says, pondering on his systems himself, “I’ve been through a lot of short-term interns, but I just employed her permanently because, I don’t know, it’s actually became a chore sifting through new secretaries, and she just feels right.”

Minghao cocked an eyebrow. Pushed his glasses up to his forehead. “Feels… right…” Jun did not return any ripostes to the accusations Minghao’s raised eyebrows were throwing. “But I’ve never seen you trust anybody with little Hao this much.”

“Y/n’s a natural around Hao,” Jun’s praise of you came lightly, and he broke into a smile. “Hao loves her.”

“Jun… just because she’s good with your kid doesn’t mean she’s good at her job.”

“Give her a chance!” Jun says with a nudge of his elbows. “She gets my order just right—I swear, no one gets the sugar-to-coffee ratio as right as she does.”

“Maybe because she’s the one delivering it. You know drinks taste sweeter when you like the person serving them.”

Jun groaned. “Hao…” Suddenly red in the cheeks, Jun brought his hands to cover his face, feigning that he was yawning or scratching his cheek or something. But Minghao saw through everything.

“All I’m saying is, I wonder if she really is good at her job—”

The door opened, and you and the Mini-Wen peeked through, with the little boy holding two cups of coffee. “I got your orders!” you say. “Well, Hao got them! I’ll keep watching him, if you want?”

“But I wanna sit on papa’s chair–!”

You grabbed the little boy gently. “Papa’s in a serious talk with uncle Hao, do you think we can hang out at my desk? I have games!”

Minghao shot a look at Jun, as the two of you walked back out of the office. He reached for the cup of coffee with ‘Xu’ written on its side, handing Jun the other. “Anyway,” he says, “back to our ‘serious discussion—” He took a sip of his drink, and suddenly looked completely apprehensive, like he wanted to spit it out.

But under the light of Jun’s alarmed gaze, Minghao slowly swallowed it, and then placed it back on the desk. “This is… this is not my order.”

“She just can’t tell between everybody’s orders,” Jun offered. “She’s still learning!”

Minghao took another sip. “I think this is oatmilk… I can sort of get behind it.”

.

.

.

Today was Christmas, which was why Hao was at the office: he was going to be picked up by his mom to go to her parents’ house, where he would spend the holidays. Jun and the mom never really interacted, or so says everyone at the office–you had never met her. Jun preferred that the handing away of the kid be done through third parties, from babysitters who would text as soon as she had come to take him away, through secretaries, or even through the office receptionist. Whatever it took to not see her.

You’re not good at your job. You’re clumsy, distracted, inadequate, and most of the time you gossiped away, or at least listened to all the gossip instead of concentrating on your job. What you’ve heard about the matrimony of Jun and his ex was: there wasn’t even a wedding. They got pregnant, they became engaged, apparently the wife got cold feet before the wedding and just decided she didn’t want to be a mother and a wife forever. She asked that one of her flings take her away to somewhere exclusive before the ceremony—someone says it was to the swiss alps, someone says they holed up at an air bnb just out of town—and never even showed up for the wedding planning and the ceremony had to be canceled.

As the story goes… her family had been glad, thinking Jun wasn’t the right person to get settled with. Back then he was handling the up-and-coming company, but they didn’t have faith in his line of work—they did, however, want their little grandson, and the custody battle turned ugly, which added to why Jun didn’t want to see his ex or hear anything about them. Ultimately he got full custody, as the mother didn’t even really want Hao.

Whenever you saw the almost-Mrs. Wen, she was incredibly cool, hiding behind oversized sunglasses. You’d have an actual sense of respect for her, if only her mere presence didn’t make her own son’s face fall like someone had taken his sweets from him.

But today she had her hair in bunches, and she impatiently took the little boy into her arms, and thanked you. “Tell your boss pick-up time’s 5 p.m. on the thirty-first,” she told you. “Or sooner, that’s fine too.”

As she walked away, you were in awe of how much she seemed like Jun’s type: sexy, but cute, and cool. She knew how to dress, for sure. You wrote down the pick-up time: 6 p.m., did she say? And tried to go back to work. You should clear his schedule on New Year’s Eve, but in the office it was still a work day, although the general consensus had decided to have a party in the office, going til midnight. You didn’t know if Jun wanted to stay, since usually he spent holidays with his son.

You see someone in flashy colors sashaying towards your desk, and erect your head, expectant.

“Heyyyyy!” It’s Arin, from the reception. “Guess what?” she says, bringing out the box she was hiding behind her back. “Look! You have a good boss.”

As you took the present and the card—where it was simply written ‘Merry Christmas, Y/n’ and nothing more, thank God because if you knew just how many drafts Jun went through—you leaned over the desk and into Jun’s office, where you saw a blur of his silhouette.

You unwrapped it messily, with as much expertise as you always have on the job, and out comes three bottles of perfume. You press the communications button to Junhui’s office. “I got the presents!”

“That’s great, you’re welcome.”

“Thank you, Jun!”

Minghao, in Jun’s office, watched as Jun got flustered, blinking the shock away. “You… you never call me that,” is what you hear over the speaker.

“Damn. When did he shop for these?” You press the button again. “When did you shop for these, Mr. Wen?! I’m meant to be doing your shopping!”

“Uh, just back in November!” The red light of the device wasn’t alight anymore, which meant the conversation was over. (Jun turned to Minghao in the office. “I may have done this in September, and also had a whole personal-shopper ensemble help me.”)

“So,” Arin says, sitting on your desk now, “you got your boss giving you gifts! What about that boyfriend of yours?”

“Guanhang?” Your expression turned a little sour. “He’s got a big family, so we went shopping for like, the six of them back in November, but he never got one for me? I figured he didn’t want to buy anything for me in front of me, but—oh, bye, Mr. Xu—” Jun and Minghao had come out of the office, as Jun parted from his best friend— “but I never woke up to presents. I mean, it’s only Christmas. I guess I can wait until he remembers?”

Arin grimaced. “Uh-uh. Today’s the deadline.”

“On Valentine’s day he just ate me out each night for the entire month and said that was his present,” you say quietly.

Arin laughed. She made a joke about cunnilingus or something or the other, which brings you to howl with laughter.

“I mean, it is a good gift, if only he didn’t pick the shortest month of the year to do it!” You’re about to go on about more of Guanhang’s antics when—

Jun’s shadow loomed over Arin’s figure, and sensing his presence, she moved over.

“Get back to work, please,” he told her. “Especially you, Y/n, your… work…” he fumbled over his words, before settling with: “is inadequate. And careless. And messy. I… expect better.”

You pouted up at him. Jun looked away before it could affect him more than he liked. “Back to work, please,” he repeated, “And Arin, your job is at the desk, which is like, thirty feet away.” The glass door to his office half-slams, particularly loudly that it sounded like it would shatter.

“Must be in a bad mood,” Arin adjudged. With a sigh, she just left the remaining files and letters designated towards you and Jun at your desk. “Text me about the boyfriend things, alright?”

Feeling sort of shamed (you sucked at your job and you didn’t like being reminded of it), you silently go through the files, not even unpacking Jun’s perfumes out of their boxes. When Jun asks of Hao later, you just tell him he’ll be home on New Year’s Eve, omitting the part where he has to be picked up.

.

.

.

“Mei.” Jun pretended to multitask, going over his documents while on the phone, but in truth he was getting nothing done. What a shitty day to come into work. “Mei, please. Don’t do this to me. Please bring him back home, at least.”

“Jun, I’m not going to drive to your apartment, there’s traffic and I have an appointment with someone! I literally told your assistant the pick-up time—Pick. Up. I never said I’d bring him. Didn’t she tell you?” Jun felt like kicking himself, he looked out the blinds into the street, and yes, absolutely there is traffic. They’re closing up roads for the city’s new year’s party, fireworks inclusive. “How useless is that secretary?”

“Of course she told me!" He snaps defensively. "I’m just busy all of a sudden. Can’t your parents drive him?”

“Papa just had cornea surgery, Jun. Mama has to be with him at all times.”

Jun hits himself. “Fine, fine, can you leave Hao with your parents, then? Just go to your party—we’ll pick him up at home.”

“It’s not a party, it’s an appointment.” But Jun heard heels clinking, sighs, yelling to her parents, a car door opening. “Fine. I’ll hear from you on Easter or something, then.”

Jun immediately pressed the button to call your desk in, before the call even ended. Soon enough, you’re walking in, taller than he remembers you, but he distracts himself from looking at you (it wasn’t healthy for him to look at you, he gets heartburn). “Could you pick my son up?” he asked. “Take my car. After that I swear you can take the day off, just come back to bring my keys b—”

His eyes finally land on you, and there’s silver sequins peeking out from under the blazer. He leans over the table, trying to look at your footwear: heels that made you taller than Mingyu from sales. “Um… is that for the party?”

“I’m going clubbing!” you answered. “With my boyfriend.”

Jun looked away from you. The sequinned dress was low-necked, distractingly so. “Alright, well… Hao’s usual sitter will be home, so you can just ring the bell.”

“I know the code to your door, anyway,” you say. “See ya, Mr. Wen!”

.

.

.

The New Year’s party was starting, with the attending employees taking advantage of every resource in the office: speakers blaring music, the main lights dimmed and LED lights strewn across the walls so carelessly it looked like they were there by accident; everything was a total mess. There wasn’t a reason to stay there anymore if he wasn’t celebrating, but Jun couldn’t leave: he needed his car.

It’s almost ten when you come back, and as much as it was long-awaited, it even felt unreal that you’d come back.

“Y/n!” He didn’t realize how his anxiety had crept up on him, even when concerning you—he knew Hao was safe home, but you were his main concern. Sort of weird, that it’d be that way. “I’m so glad you’re okay!”

“Bad news,” you say as you come into his office, basically screaming over the music, “I barely escaped when I came, but they’re blocking every street around here for the parade.”

Jun stood over his tiptoes to see the state of the roads: the parades were already setting in, and the roads were blocked everywhere. The only other option would be to wait it out, until it’s past midnight and everyone is back home in their beds.

He sighed. “I think I’ll have to stay until the end of the party.” He pulled out his phone, urgently texting the babysitter.

But Jun immediately turned into his usual anxious character, not being able to get home at his son’s bedtime. He paced around the party, sometimes paying attention to the music, although it was just grating for him at some point, and, not wanting to return home drunk, refused all booze and decided to chaperone the party.

He finds you at the hard liquor corner, during his many rounds around the office. You’re leaned back and sipping out of a full bottle. Jun hasn’t drunk in a while, because hangovers and being drunk in general made him unable to parent. He knows moderation looks different to everybody, but you weren’t it.

“... all I said was he spends a comically high amount of time with that girl from work! And he’s like, you’re always tailing after Jun, and I’m like, yeah, that’s my job? And then he says, I'm not his girlfriend, I just live with him, he can do whatever he wants.”

You take another mouthful out of the straight bottle. “What’d you say?” Arin edges you on.

“Told him that’s rich coming from the guy that was balls deep in my—”

Jun cringes with scrunched and avoidant eyes, as he comes over to take the bottle away from you. Setting it down on a desk behind him, he notices that the people around had started to clear out, not wanting a chaperoning boss to ruin the fun. They rushed to the windows and the balcony.

“I thought you were going clubbing on your night off?” he asks you, standing two feet planted in front of you. You were holding yourself really horribly, and ended up resting your head on his stomach without a thought in your head. If you had thought it through, maybe you wouldn't have done it.

“Fight,” you explained. “With the guy I live with.”

“I see…” Jun tenderly combed his fingers through your hair, but only used it to pull your head off his stomach. “Well, I guess office party’s just as fun, huh?”

You snorted as a reply.

“Last sixty seconds, guys!” someone yells. They’d opened the windows so the sounds of the parade in the street were full-blown blaring distantly, and you were about forty stories up in the air, the night breeze blowing with a vengeful cold.

You’re tired, your feet hurt and you just wanted to collapse into your bed. Unable to hold yourself up any longer, you fall face-flat into his stomach, again. Your arms wrapped around him, as if you were imagining him as a body pillow.

You feel Jun still, and you almost think he’s just uncomfortable being so close to you, but then you… realize something.

Mr. Wen likes you. It should have been obvious, whenever he seemed to forgive your inadequate work ethics and frequent unfailing mishaps, and how much he trusted you, no matter how many mistakes you made, how much he hated hearing about your life with your boyfriend… and what kind of boss goes shopping for their employee, privately, anyway?

You’re suddenly more awake than you were five seconds ago. You stand up, and there’s commotion—everyone’s crowding around the window, yelling the countdown as loud as their voices went. You look into Jun’s eyes. Sober, clean, worried.

“Do you think we can kiss, Mr. Wen?” you asked.

Jun stilled. Palms sweating, there was a moment where he swore his heart stopped, before he remembered how to breathe and regain all brain-control functions again. It might be what people call ‘skipping a beat’ meets ‘brain freeze’. “What?” he basically mumbled, unable to talk very loud, but you heard.

“We’re the only ones with no date,” you told him. “Everyone’s partnered up.” It was true, even people without dates had struck up deals for a new year’s kiss.

“It–it’s just not a good idea,” Jun stuttered.

“It’s a kiss for luck!” Every step you took towards him, Jun stepped back from you until his back hit a desk. Pouting, you add: “I want to have lots of luck next year.”

You must have had a lot of those schnapps and shots from the reception, Jun concludes, but too late: right after he takes the steps backwards, you had pulled him towards you by his tie. Hungry eyes, if he’d ever seen any. “Y/n,” he breathed out against your lips, which came close to him with every passing second, “we can’t.” You pull him in even closer, controlling him by the tie.

You do whatever the fuck you want when you’re drunk, Jun concludes. But it’s setting him into a full-blown panic. “Y–Y/n.”

The countdown starts, and you’re right—everyone’s gathered at the high-rise windows, looking at the parade under the office. No one’s looking back at you, and even if they were, they wouldn’t be able to tell who you were from the mere blue silhouettes of your bodies. At best, they’d just be able to see his white shirt. His entire body shrouded you.

Three!

You’re in every single part of Jun’s senses. He can smell you wearing the perfume he gave you, he can hear the low hum of your breath in his ears, he sees you, he sees the flimsy little dress with the spaghetti straps that keep dropping down to reveal more and more, he just…

Two!

He just has to taste you.

One!

He’s the one that takes the step to meet your lips, and now you’re kissing. You taste like soft cream and feel like good sleep. His tongue darts out, and you welcome it in your mouth.

Jun let out what he thinks is a sigh, but really was more of a moan, a sound that went unsuppressably past his throat and vibrated across your tongue. He thought you looked killer, the spaghetti straps of your dress would sometimes fall just a bit that he could see so much… flesh… from the side, but he won’t think about it, he won’t even look, he won’t be that pervert, the older guy that wants what he can’t have because you’re too shiny and spectacular and just the personification of a starry night, especially in this dress—and he can’t have you! He needed to get that through his head.

You had a boyfriend, you were literally about to go clubbing with him, you were taken, so what was he doing, what was he doing?

When he’s panting post-kiss, he doesn’t know if it’s the kissing making him breathless, or if it’s all his thoughts tiring him out.

“Wanna continue this?” you whispered to him, eyelashes hooding your expression. Jun doesn’t understand why you’d want to—yes, he wants to, but why do you—?

But he nods. He’s the one that grabs your hand, and walks over to his office, and you’re following him. Every time he told himself this was it and there’s no way you’d go further, you do. What the fuck.

The office is almost unrecognizable in the dark, with only the fireworks outside to light it up. You locked the door, and he realizes it hadn’t even crossed his mind.

You push him against the window, and for a second you looked over his shoulder at all the fireworks. He watches them reflect in your eyes, and the sight of you is just haunting.

And then you’re kissing him, his hands are on you again, this time peeling the spaghetti straps off, feeling your bare shoulders, just the feeling of your skin—he hadn’t been with anyone in a long, long time, too busy with his son or work, and to finally have this–with the person he’d been pining for so long…

He almost rips the dress off you, but restrains himself. Your lips feel soft and healing against his own, and then they’re on his neck. He doesn’t even stop you to tell you you can’t leave hickeys–it doesn’t even occur to him. His nose is just buried in your hair, as you trail kisses down his chest—when did you even undo the buttons?—and, when he messes with the straps of your dress again, it just drops to the floor at your feet.

He doesn’t even have the chance to take your form in, in just your strapless bra and panties. You’re rubbing him over his pants, and he’s hard, he wants it, yes, but he’s also dead sober and he couldn’t even stay drunk on you that long.

“Wait,” Jun says, holding up his hand, perhaps to keep some distance from you. “You’re drunk, we can’t go that far.”

With a lick of your lips, you’re undoing his belt and flinging it over your shoulder. When you can’t kiss him the way you wanted, you simply pull him by the tie so he’s on top of you, pinning you down on his desk. You want to kiss, you want his hands on you again, but he’s hesitant, only coming where you pull him.

“Y/n,” he gasped. “Y/n, please—this is a lawsuit.”

You giggled. “I’ll sign an NDA, if you want.”

Jun sighed, heavily breathing. “That’s not the problem.”

But he wants you, and if you want him now, there isn't a choice but to give in. Your naked legs wrap around his waist, and he just trails his hands down them, until they reach your heel-clad feet. It’s so hot, the way he’s allowed you to entrap him.

Jun is fervently kissing down your chest, your bra pulled down, as he enters you. He’s so hard, so bothered, and wet with precum. So hot it could sizzle. You throw your head back and let out a pornographic moan, but he cups his hand over your mouth, wordlessly reminding you that you were only a wall separated from a whole party of people.

Jun hadn’t been this way with anyone in a long time. There had been dates from time to time, but never with someone he actually truly liked. Trembling, his hips stutter, so does his lips, which are moaning your name. He tries to be as quiet and composed as he could, but he feels like he might let the loudest grunt, alerting everyone outside. He bites down on his lip.

He hadn’t been doing this in a while. This makes him impossibly sensitive, and he might release, even if it’s just too soon. You sense it in the stutter of his thrusts and immediately slip off him, and he’s glad, because he knows he can’t cum inside you, but also it was embarrassing to have to tell you. You kneel in front of him, open-mouthed, and he could spasm from the mere sight, before you take him in your hands.

Jun hisses sharply. “Do you see how it’s so white, you were so wet around me—” He interrupts himself with a sharp inhale.

But you’re going slowly, as if you were inexperienced with your tongue, or just wanted to drag the torture out for him. Jun’s hand grip at the table behind him.

“Please,” he moaned. “It hurts.” When he reaches out to touch you it’s fervent, hot. You’re the only thing in the world that could ease the pain and quench the thirst. His hands wrap around your hair, although to him it’s more like you hair had come alive and entangled themselves all over his digits. Your mouth feels so—fuck!

He’s cumming down your throat. Jun whimpered as the sensation of you never truly left him, you take care of him. Until the last of it spills onto the carpet. And he’s just watching you through his eyelashes, tired and giddy. He speaks your name.

You look up for a moment, before your gaze turns towards the door. Someone else was calling your name.

“It’s Arin,” you observe carefully. “You should count to like, three minutes before you come out, maybe more. I’ll go first, okay?”

He wondered if you’ve done these things before, as you strutted outside. The lights were back on outside in the hallway, and he shrouded himself in the shadows, feeling embarrassed but not ashamed.

When he exits the office later, locking the door behind him, there’s a man at your desk, figure defined by a dark puffer coat over a pastel hoodie. “Sorry I missed the kiss,” he was saying.

“I got kissed already,” you told him, avoiding eye-contact.

Guanhang didn’t believe you one bit, especially when you couldn’t meet him in the eye. “Yeah?” he says. “Who was it?”

“Arin,” you say plainly. Guanhang laughs. He grabs your hand.

“Wanna go watch the parade? I’ll put you on my shoulders and everything.” He looked past you, and sees Jun, and offers a tight-lipped smile. “Aren’t you going to introduce me to your boss?”

“I don’t see why you’d need to, you’re just some guy I live with, right?”

You grabbed your handbag and strutted towards the elevator, but later Jun hears that Guanhang did put you on his shoulder to see the rest of the parade.

.

.

.

The second of January and business is back, you sit down at your desk after an uncomfortable subway ride and check a day’s worth of missed emails. When Jun comes to work, finally, you offer a smile, but don’t meet him in the eyes. He wasn’t looking at you, either.

“Good morning,” he basically grunted, clearing his throat. He knew it was impersonal, but he didn’t want to say your name, because whenever he spoke your name there was an embarrassing adoration in his voice.

“I’ll get you your coffee,” you told Jun.

You’re beating yourself up while waiting for the order, and you pull out your phone. These were words you couldn’t literally say to him, but on text you felt brave, hiding behind a screen. Not having to read his expressions.

You: hi, i just wanted to tell you…

It’s immediately read, although he doesn’t reply. He's waiting for you.

You: if you can just forget everything! It would be cool

You: what happened that night, I mean

You: I can’t be doing this, I have a boyfriend

Mr. Wen: we can do that.

Mr. Wen: i’m sorry, by the way

You: don’t be.

You: I liked it

Jun tries to forget.

.

.

A few days after New Year’s was Jun’s European business trip, and you were glad you wouldn’t have to see him after all. And yet, sitting at your desk two feet away from the office where it all happened made you feel weird. As all your drunk escapades make you feel.

He’d been gone since Monday, and was due back today, to land in the evening. But as you check in with him, you find out his flight’s been delayed.

“There’s engine issues,” he told you. “I don’t know, fingers crossed I make it in time before Hao’s bedtime.”

But an hour later he called you in a panic. “Y/n, fuck—what do I—I don’t even—” When you ask him to tell you, slowly, he tries to calm down. “The babysitter! I told them my flight’s delayed, and she can’t stay all night—I don’t think my plane will land until dawn. Now she’s mad I’m demanding too many hours, because she stayed all night on New Year’s, too…”

You cringed, thinking about New Year’s night.

“I don’t know what to do, can you go to my apartment? I already called Seungkwan, and then I tried Joshua, but—”

“Of course I’ll do it!” you interrupt. “You can’t call your friends, they’re busy men… I’ve got nothing going on, it’s fine. I’ll go.”

Jun sighed in relief. “You sure?”

You looked over at the make-shift dining room table in your apartment. Guanhang promised to be home for dinner, but he hadn’t come home at all. “Yeah,” you told him. “Just try to have a safe flight, okay?”

.

.

.

Hao’s crying, and the babysitter is panicking when you come into the apartment. You quickly explain the situation to her, and she’s soon excused, leaving you and the sobbing boy alone, but at least seeing you, who he associated with his dad, calmed him down a little.

“Your dad’s at the airport,” you explain to the little boy patiently. “You remember airports, right? You’ve been there with daddy?”

He pulls out a plane and asks if Jun is in a similar one, and you answer yes.

“But papa’s always here when I go to sleep,” Hao whined. “And I need someone to watch my back, so the monsters don’t creep up.”

“Do you want me to put you to sleep?” you asked. “Hey, why don’t we sleep in the master bedroom, huh? So you can surprise daddy when he’s home.”

Jun’s giant apartment actually had an office and three bedrooms, but the master bedroom was his, the other was Hao’s—with a little kid-sized bed—and he turned the third bedroom into a playroom, so guests were never expected. You decided once you put Hao to bed, you would go sleep on the couch in the living room, wake up and go home once Jun’s home, you get a day off, anyway.

.

.

.

Jun took a taxi back home. The sun wouldn’t rise for hours. He’d been microdosing on first-class flight champagne all night, and it only made him feel sleepy and unsharp. Plus, he’d been up for an entire day.

He’s stumbling into his apartment, not even taking his shoes off—if he sat down to do it, he’d fall asleep immediately—and only takes them off when he’s in his bedroom. He hears Hao’s little breaths and sniffles, and concludes he’s in his bed.

But when he turns to finally look, you’re there, too, lying on the blankets, not under them. You must have fallen asleep putting Hao to sleep…

Jun tucks you into bed, intending to keep you and Hao there and sleep in the living room, but he can’t deny the welcoming pliability of his bed, so he would just rest his head, on the familiar navy pillows, just a blink, just to shut his eyes…

.

When you wake up, it's because there’s something in your hand. You blink the sleep out of your eyes, to see that you were holding onto Jun’s hand, held over his sleeping son’s chest.

You flinch away, and with the rustle of the bedsheets, he’s awake.

You’d been sleeping, forehead to forehead and holding hands over the sleeping boy, like you were a family.

You murmur your apologies. He excuses you, and tells you you can keep sleeping for a bit, he’s going to take a shower anyway, he’ll make you and Hao breakfast and then you could leave.

You’re having this whole conversation still lying on the bed like a mom and dad, and he reached over, patting your head. Your hair’s messy, and still had clips in it, never having taken them off. He pets you as if you were something beloved—but you pulled away. Cleared your throat. “Um. You should go shower.”

He’s so tired he doesn’t even know what he’s doing, whole body running on autopilot until he wakes up watching the steam rise out of the showerhead. Jun lets the warm water rush all over his body, pitter-pattering over his closed eyelids and down his broad shoulder. He sighed. He’s travel-weary, and jetlagged, and everything sucked. And he was embarrassed, because of the way you had flinched away from his touch…

Suddenly he heard footsteps outside the bathroom, and despite the sounds of the water, he heard everything (damn you, expensive rich-people shower!).

“I was home until 10, and you’re the one that didn’t come home!” He realized you were screaming, and you were near the bathroom because you had to scream—it was the farthest from where Hao was sleeping, so a blindspot.

“Heng, I had work!”

“Don’t give me that work bullshit, how is there work at fucking midnight?!” Damn. He could hear it despite the call not being on speaker, and also through the sounds of the water. Guanhang could yell, for sure.

“There just was! I’m an assistant–I’m sorry, alright, I’m sorry! I tried to call you last night—”

“Stop fucking calling me, then, fucking leave me alone!” You went quiet, which made Guanhang snap: “why aren’t you saying anything?!”

Jun hears you groan. He tries to tune it out, until at one point he can’t hear anything anymore. It must be over. Hao must still be asleep, although he bets not for long. Jun weighs his options, what he could make for breakfast for the three of you. He lets the warmth of the shower and the prospect of good food lull him into a another open-eyed nap.

Your whereabouts in the house were unknown to him, until he sees your figure enter the bathroom, through steam-mist shrouded silhouettes. He doesn’t say anything, letting you get ready on your own for the day—but you open the door to the shower.

Jun basically jumps back, but sees that now you’re in your tank top, the one you wore under your sweater, and… panties. His eyes don’t linger that long there.

“I wanted to shower, too,” you told him. He doesn’t say anything, half in shock, still tired. But he does watch everything, the way you peeled the pieces of clothing off of you so slowly, and then, under his gaze, felt strange and so cover your breasts with your arms. You look like a pin-up girl, which makes his brain chemistry go woah. You join him under the water, looking as if you didn’t even realize he was there, focused on wetting all of your hair, with closed eyes concentrated on the feeling of the water.

Can he touch you? Jun decided not to bet on it, and leaned back, watching you, dazed. He didn’t even understand what was happening.

You pull him in by the back of his hair, making him lean down to kiss you. As soon as that awkward seal broke, Jun’s on your skin, kissing your naked chest, trying to cover more ground than the water does. But you need his lips on your own, stat, so you yank his head up with a sharp, painful pull of his hair. He winces, but finds he likes the pain—like your coffee, everything you give him is sweet.

“This time you can cum inside of me,” you say raspily against his ears, which makes him feral, turning you around and pressing you up against the glass walls of the shower. He lets out a low growl, reminiscent of his days as a bachelor, before his ex, before Hao. He felt like he was just dripping in that youth again, being inside of you.

It doesn’t occur to him how weird it was. Why would you not even let him pat you on the head, but kiss him naked in the shower? Of course, he came to a conclusive construct in the end: Guanhang. Every time your own boyfriend disappointed you, you came to him.

.

.

The next morning, right before he set out to drive to work, came the text:

(2) New messages from Y/N

Forget about yesterday, please

I feel really bad. We shouldn’t have.

.

.

.

Jun would wait. Until Guanhang makes you feel unneeded again, he would wait. He didn’t see it as taking advantage of your sadness—in fact, it was a sadness mutualism. He was there for you when you felt down, and he… Well, he was always sad. You made it worse when you left, but when you were around it felt like heaven.

Guanhang spends nights out, and you wanted to limit your meetings with Jun to just that, but sometimes, you’d take his car to his apartment, fuck, and then he’d drop you off, right before Guanhang comes home from work or whatever he does. You never get caught—Guanhang doesn’t expect you back so quickly. There were nights you spent completely at his apartment, where you’d talk more than you’d fuck, and also play house with Hao, like a little family, and Jun’s never had that, that he begins to actually fool himself. He knows it’s insane, of course, but sometimes between sleepover nights and making you breakfast, he wishes you were Hao’s mom. He thought he’d given up on that a long time ago, but you made him revisit what it feels like to be young and in love.

At the office, you act naturally. You never even show half a glimmer of interest in him, you do your job. No one catches on. Your acting was genuinely convincing, that he’d wonder if you even liked him at all, but once work is over and he’s driving you back, you’re all over him.

He knows, of course, that it all depended on Guanhang, agonizingly so—you only paid attention to Jun when Guanhang wasn’t paying attention to you. And sometimes Jun gave you presents here and there, shopping trips and premium subscriptions—and one time you wanted to give Guanhang a video game as a present, so you siphoned off Jun’s money for that. He knows it’s wrong, you’re stringing him along, but sometimes he knew no better. He chose to know no better.

“She’s just a user,” Minghao told Jun when he finally admitted to it. “If she only comes to you when her boyfriend has off-days, I’m sorry, she’s a user. Nothing more to it.”

Jun knew you didn’t love him, of course, but it’s hard to imagine you completely indifferent to him. You were nice when you’re together.

“Either way,” Minghao says, “It’s a dangerous game. What if she extorts you?”

“She wouldn’t!”

“She has a boyfriend, what if he finds out and blackmails you?!”

Jun admitted to the possibility, but told Minghao not to worry. He was willing to go down for you, although he didn’t dare admit it to his friends.

But Jun let you in every time you knocked, until you became as familiar to him as the back of his hand.

.

.

.

“I’m taking Tuesday afternoon off,” Jun says as he lazily thrusts into you, “We’re trying to get Hao into one of those high-end nursery schools, next year.” He moved in you, and it’s tight and wet, but for you it just feels full, with no movement. You feel a little crazy.

If you weren’t trying so hard to cum, maybe you could have made a joke about how high-end nursery schools can be. But you just nod, peeking at him through scrunched eyes. “Uh-huh!” you squeaked. He’s moving again, and you throw your head back and moan.

“I think I’ll need you there,” Jun says. “I mean, I’ll need to look important and be hands-on, it’s nice to have an assistant there.”

You shiver around his cock, he’s moving but only minimally, and you need the full violent, bottom-out-and-thrusting-in action. You whine.

“Y/n? Are you getting this? I’ll meet you at the office, alright?”

You simply groan, pushing him back and trying to find… whatever was the pussy equivalent of ‘footing’. You try to gain leverage on the desk behind you and bounce, fucking yourself on his cock, and it’s still not enough.

Jun laughs. You are not getting it. You’re basically going feral from the withheld orgasm. Giving you what you wanted, he goes faster, and you nearly scream, gripping onto his white oxford in bunches, lewdly bouncing on his cock. “Want me to touch you?” he questioned, and you nod vehemently. “Yes, yes, yes, yes—”

.

There must be like 20 kids running around at this party. (“oh my god, triplets!” you whispered to Jun as you first stepped into the garden) Hao’s shy, and wants his father to carry him, preferably back into the car, but Jun refuses, making him walk. He doesn’t cry to protest, which is what you love so much about Hao. “Go play with Hoon,” Jun suggests, dropping to his knees to talk to his son. He pointed the familiar little face out. “Go on, make new friends!”

“He’s a bit like you,” you told Jun as Hao wandered off into the playpens.

Jun turned to you, curious. “How so?”

“He’s shy, but… he makes it work.” You’re back on your phone again, double-checking your boss’s schedule, checking all mail, confirming meeting times and topics. Jun waits for you on a bench until he couldn’t anymore.

He snatches the phone from you. “Work later,” he says. “I’m just like Hao, and I need you to be tailing me at all times so I can have a sense of security.”

“A false sense of security,” you say. “Wait, security from what?”

“The parents’ committee…”

So you’re the one that meets the fear-striking bunch of parents, rich trust fund kids breeding more trust fund kids, whose only purpose was to take care of their children. They might be problematically prideful and impossibly picky, but they made up for it by having an overly welcome demeanor. The triplets’ mother led the committee and also the waitlist to the nursery school, and as you pointed Hao out to her, she gushed over how cute the little guy was. Jun stands demurely behind you, not even accepting the compliment himself.

“He really is a sweet boy,” says the woman, “well it’s no wonder, when his parents are so cute!”

Jun looked at you, wanting to cut in, but he never speaks soon enough, and you’re the one that goes: “thank you!” with a grin. He doesn’t say anything anymore after that.

It’s winter, and when the party’s over the sun had set. Hao’s extra tired, from climbing up walls and running around with the other kids. When you look back at him, a few minutes after having strapped him into his little child seat, he’s out like a light. “He’s kaputt,” you informed Jun.

“Yeah?” He smiled. “Good… hey, I mean, when they thought you were his mom—”

“I hope you don’t mind!” you say. “I just… didn’t want to go through the whole I’m-actually-his-assitant and then they ask where the mom is and then the whole divorce story…”

“I’m actually grateful.” Jun’s lips are tightened but upturned in a little :] smile. “I… never like talking about his mom.” You nodded. After a few minutes of silence, he goes: “well, I mean, if they ask next time where his mom is, and you’re not there…”

“Of course I’ll be there!” you put a hand over his thigh, and squeeze. “Maybe you can keep saying that, I’m gonna be with you guys for a while, aren’t I?”

.

Jun’s the one that carries his son out of the car and into the apartment, and you follow him upstairs—he promised to make you dinner. As you get into the elevator, you text Guanhang you’ll be eating somewhere else, if he cares.

Guanhang: Where? Maybe I can join you

You: just somewhere with the girls from the office :) girls’ night?

You look up from your phone as little Hao wakes up, cheeks puffy against Jun’s shoulder. “Y/n,” he says sleepily.

“Hey, little guy. We’re home.”

“You’re home,” Hao says with a yawn, and maybe he just said it because he was half-asleep, but you stop in your tracks. You realize you’d been spending more time at your boss’s house than you do in Guanhang’s apartment.

You ran Hao a bath, and you and Jun bathed the little guy together, complete with bathbombs and bath toys. There’s sand from the garden everywhere in his scalp, which you patiently wash off.

“I want Y/n to be my mommy,” Hao says as you gently wet his hair, occasionally dunking him, which he’s patient to.

You let out a laugh, it was just awkward and you didn’t know what to say, how to parent.

You’re not the parent though, and Jun took the little boy into his arms, growing sterner. “Hey, you don’t say things like that, okay?”

“Why not?” the little boy pondered.

“Well, because she’s still young and she might not like—I mean, son, listen, motherhood—I mean, it’s just—you’re cute, don’t worry, you’re the cutest thing ever, but—you can’t just say that to everybody you like!”

“I don’t say it about everybody,” Hao says. “I just say it about y/n!”

You offer a tight-lipped smile, and Hao’s still not done: “I looove y/n. I like her more than mama. Mama’s mama, and Y/n is mommy!”

“I didn’t teach him that,” Jun says quietly. “I swear, I did not teach him that.”

.

Later when he sends you home, he’s still apologizing profusely. And then, he lights up with a smile. “It’s good he likes you, isn’t it?”

You shrugged. “I mean… yeah. I like that Hao likes me, it’s part of my job.”

.

.

.

Jun presented a little promise ring, a silver band encrusted with diamonds. Minghao sighs. “You cannot be…”

“It’s for Y/n!”

“I thought she wanted no strings attached?” probed Minghao.

Jun frowned, thinking deeply about it. “But…” he sounded as innocent as his own son as he said it, “we’ve come far enough that we can define our relationship. You don’t know what she told me.”

“What?”

“She said, she’ll be here with me and Hao. For a long time.”

“Jun,” Minghao says, sighing, “don’t… don’t do this to yourself or little Hao. Don’t play with someone that obviously doesn’t care about your feelings.”

“I don’t know, Minghao,” Jun sighed. “I think this might be it. I feel like she could… be in my life. Permanently.”

“She’s a user!” Minghao pointed out. “If she comes to you whenever her boyfriend lets her down, and takes advantage of you and your money because you’re needy with a kid, she’s a bad person.”

“She’s never asked for anything from me,” Jun says sadly. “I think you’re wrong.”

“She never denies your gifts, either.”

“Why would she refuse something I’ve already bought her?”

Minghao groans, head in his hands, his friend was not getting it—he’s just not getting it! “Listen,” he told Jun, “you are not asking someone that flaky for a real relationship. You won’t like what you get.”

“Why—”

“She’s still living with a guy!”

“You’re right,” Jun says. He sinks back down into his chair. “I’ll just ask her to move out, first.”

Minghao throws his hands up in the air and lets out the most strangled groan he’s ever made his entire life.

.

Jun can’t pop the question. It’s hard to just ask someone about their lovelife, even someone he considers to be as close as you. Of course he, with his small circle and busy life, thought you were close, and you knew everything about his life, but did you consider the same of him? He didn’t even know so much about you.

Plus, you never talk about your feelings. The only time you’d ever come close to that were the times where you talked about Guanhang, times when he eavesdropped, just to know what it’s like to be someone you loved, except it wasn’t him, and he could never imagine it being him.

So he thinks that’s where he should start: Guanhang. If you loved him, then you must hang onto him, and if he gets a straight answer about it then he’ll stop the pining. Plus, it would mean he has no chance.

He picked an evening where you were in your feelings. The sky’s a certain shade of blue, from all the citylights polluting the darkness, and it would never dim; you rolled down your side window and stared out, sometimes enjoying the velocity breeze but he just kept getting stuck in traffic, so the car was often still. “Y/n,” he says quietly, voice almost blending in with sounds of the city, “how’s Guanhang?”

“Oh, you mean the guy I live with?” you snort. You rolled your window up so you could hear him better. “He’s fine. Now that he’s taken up a second job we have less time to fight.”

“Do you love him?”

You gasp. “What?”

“Do you even believe in love?” Jun wondered. “I feel like you don’t really act that way.”

“I didn’t use to,” you answered honestly. You sounded so wise to him, he’d never heard you this way before. “But… one day, you know, Guanhang works at a studio, and I listened to one of the stuff he produced—there were like, 30 guys singing on a backtrack, but I knew immediately when his voice was in it. I could just recognize it.”

Jun’s heart clenched in his chest, and if he weren’t driving he’d double over. He hadn’t had his heart broken in so long… not since his broken engagement.

“And,” you say, “one night, Guanhang ‘borrowed’ his friend’s car and we went out of the city, to stargaze. We just had the radio to listen to, so we spent the entire ride driving past the suburbs screaming the lyrics to every song we knew. It was like a competition—and then, at one point, I stopped screaming. I just listened to him. I realized then that’s what love is? If that makes sense? Love is shutting up while you’re singing in the car because you want to hear their voice. And that’s the day I said it. ‘I love you.’ I’ve never said it to anybody before in my life.”

You looked over at Jun. “But now he’s just some guy I live with.”

Well, that wasn’t a straight answer. But he knew he could never ask you now. Guanhang was someone you’d always want to hang onto. With his ex, it had been black-and-white, she didn’t want him and he gave up. But Guanhang was always going to string you along, and he… knew he couldn’t compete. He’d never felt good enough for love, ever since his ex and the wedding debacle.

.

.

There’s a letter of resignation on his desk, a few days after that night. You had been growing cold towards him, nights where you slept over grew seldom and seldom until you just stopped. But you give him his coffee every day still, perfectly, even, without spillage, and it always tastes just as sweet, as sweet as only you could make it.

So it’s a shock to him as he read the letter, right in front of your eyes. “Why?” he demanded. He got so fired up he started speaking mandarin. “Wèishéme?!”

“I just…” you say, blinking tears away, “I just can’t do this anymore, and seeing you every day at work like we aren’t something is just...”

“Is it Guanhang?” he demanded.

“No,” you say. “No, I just… I just want positions I deserve. And I feel like I got here because… you liked me.”

“You’re here because I like the way you work,” Jun insisted. You don’t believe him. “No, I—I had this assistant that would color-code everything with custom stickers, but they were all pastel and I basically turned colorblind trying to read them, I had another guy assistant that kept asking questions and making me confirm everything myself, I had this other intern, right before you, that took pictures of me and Hao because he wanted to put it on his blog—Y/n, you’re great. I like that you don’t overcomplicate your systems, you sometimes spill things and trip and fall, but I don’t mind. It’s small flaws I never even saw—I didn’t hire you because of some… sexual ulterior motive. I like you. I like the way you work first, and then I just… fell for the rest of you.”

You looked conflicted, you watch him through your eyelashes. “I want to transfer,” you say, resolute but soft enough. “To Mr. Choi’s company—you know I’m more into that line of work, it’s what I studied. I just think a position there might be better.”

Jun tries to convince you to stay, but he was never a believer in his own self.

You leave, two months later, after treating him just like a stranger whose schedule was the only thing you knew about him.

.

.

.

Jun still has the promise ring, and it’s always somewhere in his pocket, although he hopes that one day he could just lose it, more or less accidentally, but the little velvet box always stayed somewhere in the pockets of his coats or trousers. He didn’t even know why it mattered to him, it’s not like you’d even touched it in your entire life. And yet… when he holds it in his hands, it feels to him like that sweet daydream that never became reality—he never got to touch it, but still, it’s so vivid.

Hao keeps asking why you’re not around, and Jun never knows how to answer. He explains the concept of resignation to the little boy, patiently, and Hao sort of begins to get it.

“So Y/n’s somewhere? In this city? And we just can’t see her?”

It’s supposed to be spring, but the wind still blows harsh and northern like the middle of winter, and it reminds him of you, because all the months you’d worked for him were so cold. He remembers you in your little trenchcoats and woolen things, trying to text with a smart glove on…

“Do you want to see her?” Jun asked Hao. “Maybe we just pay a little visit, for the last time?”

So him and his son are parked in front of the complex he always dropped you off, and he presses the bell for 3A, which you shared with Guanhang. When it buzzes in, Jun takes the little boy on his shoulders.

Guanhang’s waiting at the door, not knowing what he’s being visited for. “We just wanted to see Y/n,” Jun says, awkward because that was his rival he was talking to. “The little guy missed him, is it okay if he—”

“Y/n moved out,” Guanhang says plainly. “A month ago.”

But that was when you resigned. “Do you—know where?”

“That receptionist friend she had,” Guanhang says. “Moved in with her. I don’t fucking know. Don’t look at me like that, I tried to make her stay, too.” The door slams.

Jun calls the personnel office in his car with the engine on, as Hao swings his little legs on the seat. This was a revelation to him—you ended it with Guanhang, and even with him, and everything’s just so clear to Jun, now: you wanted things you deserved. You were starting over. You wanted to work for things yourself. He just wanted you back in his life, he wasn’t bad for you, he would prove it.

The phone comes through. “Hey! Good evening, it’s Jun—I just need to know where Choi Arin lives.”

“For something good, like a bonus, I hope,” replies the man working at the office.

.

Arin lives in another complex, closer to work this time. The apartment was on the third floor, and Jun climbed the stairs with Hao on his shoulders, once again, only for Arin to come out and tell him you didn’t live there anymore.

“It was just temporary,” she said. “She wanted a real place she could rent—I think Mr. Jo from security hooked her up with a free space in his flat.”

.

“Hey, Jun again… could you give me the address of Jo from security?”

.

.

.

He doesn’t know which floor you lived on, or even which side of the terrace. He tries door after door, and nice ladies here and there wanted to accompany him for the rest of the search. Then another man wants to see it through, too, and Jun entrusts that his son was grabbing the tail of his coat at all times, following him.

He’s gathered a bunch of people following him when he arrives at the new side of the terrance. He almost loses the motivation to go around asking a whole neighborhood if they knew you, when…

He could hear music, faintly coming from a ground-floor window. He followed it, knowing the melody well—you would hum it all the time, it was your favorite.

He knocks on the door it leads him to.

You come out with a bowed head, and you’re more beautiful than he remembers, although you looked even more tired. If you were living here but working at Seungcheol’s company, you must be waking up so early just to make it there at 9 a.m. Jun reaches out to touch you, as if he had been fooled and you’re just a mirage.

“Y/n!”

You extend your arms to the little boy, and he climbs up. Your laughter is light. “Hao! What are you guys—Jun? What is this?”

He doesn’t know how to start this. He fumbled around with the pockets of his paddington coat, and there were just too many pockets. After going through each of six pockets twice and coming up with just stray used tissues and car keys, he checks his pants, and there it was. He pulls out the little velvet box; a bunch of people gasp. You just mumble, “he wouldn’t.” But you don’t know if he would.

But there is a ring, although at closer inspection you notice it’s not for engagements. A simple promise ring, which you putt out to inspect, and ‘1.1. 00:00’ is engraved on the inside.

Your first kiss. You look up at him, and just when you’re about to speak, Mini-Wen wraps his arms around you. “Missed you, Y/n.”

“Y/n,” Jun starts, “I just—I—I wanted to ask you to be mine. But I was just—I was just afraid. I’ve had this phobia against relationships ever since Hao’s mom left me, and…” (the crowd ‘aww’ed) “I was afraid of getting close to someone again, if they might break my heart, and well, you did–you did, you left. But… I found out it doesn’t even matter. I’m happy to be loving you and getting my heart broken by you. I think you’ve got your fair share of broken hearts, too, but if you trust me—” you’re looking up at him with a brand new look in your eyes. He falters, splutters, as he always did when you look at him. “I can promise you I’ll always be here for you. I’ll keep your place for you, I’ll always protect you, I’ll—”

With Hao still in your arms, you step in and kiss Jun. For a second he forgets to close his eyes, and he just watches you, lips sinking into his. He knows exactly what he feels for you, except he’s just too scared to say what it is.

“Did my speech move you into kissing me?” He murmured against your lips.

“No, but there’s just too many people watching I felt the need to perform.”

Hao plants a kiss on your cheek, and suddenly you and Jun are kissing him back, on each cheek—Jun had imagined showing his son love with this, but it was only you that made it possible.

He brings you and Hao closer into him, warm and padded inside his coat.

“I think I was too preoccupied to tell you on New Year’s,” Jun says. “I hope you have a good year, Y/n.”

[moonlit-jeno]

Movie Night (m.)

Pairings: Lucas, Xiaojun, Hendery, Yangyang x Reader

Genre: SMUT, literally a pwp, fivesome??

Words: 3.2k

Summary: Maybe you don’t hate Lucas as much as you thought.

“I was sitting there.” True, Lucas had been sitting in the spot on the couch you are currently occupying. But then he’d gotten up to get a drink and left the space wide open, so you’re not going to move.

“Key word: was. Past tense. I’m sitting here now.” You smile brightly at him. He scoffs. “Look, there’s a spot on the floor over there.” You point with your foot to the area between the coffee table and the fireplace that clearly doesn’t offer enough room for his long limbs. Maybe it’s mean, but the two of you had never been particularly nice to each other.

He looks to the two boys sitting next to you on the couch with an expression that says can you believe this? Xiaojun merely shrugs while Hendery laughs, pointing to the floor. “She’s right, you know.”

Lucas gives them a hurt look before spinning around and dropping all 6 feet of himself on top of you. You grunt as all the air is knocked out of you, squirming under him. “Lucas, I can’t fucking- breathe, you asshole.” You slap his thigh and he shifts, scooting off your stomach so that he’s more on your thighs.

“Then give me my spot back.” He looks over his shoulder at you and raises his eyebrows. You shake your head. He shrugs and makes himself comfortable on your lap.

Yangyang, who had been dead to the world on the only chair in their living room, springs to life. “Okay, Kun’s taking too long, lets start the movie!” He ignores outraged cry of “I’m making you food, you heathen!” from the kitchen.

Despite how uncomfortable it should be to have Lucas on top of you, it’s strangely pleasant. At least you’re warm enough that you don’t have to argue over sharing the blanket with him. You can’t help but snort while you wonder just how long it’s been since you’ve had physical affection that you’re enjoying cuddling with Lucas. Because for a guy so warm and full of love, it seems that he’d forgotten to leave any space in his heart for you.

Not that you’ve made any room for him, either. He’s loud and annoying on his best days, and beyond infuriating on his worst. You doubt you could beat him in a fight but boy, does he make you want to try. You normally try to limit your aggressive comments for the sake of your friends, but he doesn’t seem to share the same sentiment.

“Stop breathing so loudly.” Lucas snarks, not even bothering to turn around. “It’s literally all I can hear.”

“I’m breathing normally! Maybe you’re just not used to hearing anything over your annoyingly loud mouth!” Yangyang shushes you from across the room and you bite your lip, clenching your jaw.

Slowly, you relax again. Your arms are laying awkwardly at your sides and you lift them up to rest on Lucas’s stomach, waiting for him to yell at you. He doesn’t say anything. Kun comes in at some point to say he’s going out to dinner with friends, pausing to give you and Lucas a strange look. You offer him a shrug,

The movie progresses uneventfully, with the exception of you wanting to strangle Lucas for every loud laugh he lets out. The onscreen jokes aren’t even funny. To be honest, the movies pretty terrible. Like the directors didn’t know what direction they wanted to go, so they just went everywhere. Example: the random sex scene that comes out of nowhere.

There’d been no set up for it, so none of you had time to prepare for it. And for such a terrible movie, the scene’s fucking hot. You feel much too warm and you have to resist the urge to push Lucas off of your lap to get some much needed air. Your palms stay on his stomach because you figure it’s more awkward to change positions than to pretend nothing’s happening. You can feel his breathing get heavier, more rapid, and you unthinkingly start stroking the smooth skin where his shirt had ridden up. You’d meant for it to be soothing, to calm him down a bit, but he jerks on top of you. Okay, maybe your thumb is a little close to his waist band.

His hand grabs your wrist and you expect him to pull your hand away. What you are not prepared for is for him to drag your hand even lower, resting it on top of his hardened cock. He lets go, then. Doesn’t force you to do anything, just lets you know that hey, this is a thing.

You swallow thickly, heart slamming in your chest, stomach jolting as electricity shoots down your spine. Lucas jerks on top of you when you squeeze him accidentally, and he leans back so that it’s your chest to his back, his head next to yours. Shooting a glance at Xiaojun to make sure he isn’t looking, you move your hand up his length. And keep moving it.

“Fuck, you’re big.” You gasp it without thinking, thought it’s quiet enough that only Lucas can hear it. His lips curl upwards but he doesn’t turn to look at you. A good thing, because you don’t want him to see how turned on you are just from palming him over his sweatpants.

You lightly run your hand up and down the length, taking your time, not applying too much pressure. Lucas looks like he’s caught somewhere between heaven and hell, your barely there touch driving him insane. A tight squeeze to his tip has his hips jerking up, a loud whine leaving him. You freeze, but none of the others even look up. Slowly, you resume your motions.

It doesn’t take you long to figure out how he works. He’s most sensitive at the tip, so that’s where you focus your efforts. It’s even better for you because you don’t have to strain your arm to reach. You build up a rhythm, rubbing two fingers around his head, squeezing every time he seems like he’s comfortable. He’s sagging against you at this point, and you can tell that all of his efforts are focused on staying still.

“Are you gonna come soon?” You ask him, pressing a wet kiss to his ear lobe. Lucas doesn’t answer, but you hope it’s a no because you’re having too much fun right now. He just groans softly, reaching for your hand and pulling it under his sweatpants.

The skin on skin contact is so much better. The flesh is hard and hot under your touch, the precum leaking from the tip making the glide easier. You run your hand over his whole length, mapping out his veins as you go, before returning to the head and repeating your motions from earlier.

You’re so turned on at this point that it almost hurts, the throbbing in your core painfully empty. Every rough breath that Lucas takes makes you leak more and more, and your panties are sticking uncomfortably to you. There’s a little dampness on your inner thighs and you’re worried that you’re dripping onto the couch. Lost in your thoughts, you don’t realize how tightly your gripping Lucas until his hand flings around for purchase, gripping onto your forearm tightly. His head is still thrown back, eyes squeezed tightly shut, teeth digging into his lower lip. You have the urge to destroy him.

Miraculously, none of the boys have noticed yet, too enraptured with what’s happening on screen. It’s thrilling, knowing that it would be so easy for them to look over and see what you’re doing. So easy to get caught. It’s not like either of you are being subtle. One look at Lucas’s face and it would be obvious somethings up. Not to mention you have your hand down his pants.

“Mhmm, your cock is so nice.” You kiss up his neck to his ear, pressing a kiss there. “So big, so thick. Would fill me up so nicely, wouldn’t you?” Lucas can’t say anything, knows he would blow it as soon as he opens his mouth. “And I feel so empty right now. I wish I was sitting on your lap instead.”

He shudders, trying so hard to compose himself. You stroke him lightly before giving a harsh squeeze. His thighs shake when you make a fist around him and rub your palm over the tip in quick circles. Lucas is definitely close.

“Such a nice cock, such a shame you don’t know how to use it.” Lucas stiffens at this, eyes opening to glare at you. You just smile, feeling a rush of power. “It just feels too good, doesn’t it? Having such a tight, wet pussy around you?“ You let your tongue drag along the side of his neck and his body thrashes at the image you paint for him. “It just feels too good, yeah? Can’t help but lose control.”

Lucas comes with a loud grunt, his whole body shaking as you stroke him through it. Come shoots up and stains his shirt, spills down over your hand and his sweatpants.

You wipe his come off on his thigh, stroking his stomach to cool him off as he comes down from his high. His breathing is still harsh and ragged and you press a kiss to the side of his neck.

There’s another moan and it takes a moment for you to realize that it didn’t come from Lucas. You glance over to find both Hendery and Xiaojun looking at you. Xiaojun looks very caught, with his legs pulling up to his chest to hide his tent. Hendery doesn’t seem to be as shy, his legs spread wide, boner on full display.

Hendery raises an eyebrow. “Okay, no. You’re not about to judge us for touching our own dick when you’ve just had your hand on Lucas’s dick for the past 30 minutes.”

“Congrats one lasting, by the way! I don’t think I could’ve done it.” Yangyang yells, giving Lucas a thumbs up.

Lucas just laughs. “Well, it wasn’t hard. Y/n sucks at handjobs.” You smack him, offended.

“Hey! I’m great at handjobs, asshole. You were literally a mess on top of me, don’t start.” You shove at Lucas until he’s off of you, though he doesn’t waste time before picking you up and sitting back down, this time with you on his lap.

“Prove it. Lets let the rest of them decide.” Lucas sounds smug, and you hate that tone of voice.

“Fine. Are you guys okay with it?” All three of them nod quickly, Hendery quick to add a “more than.”

You reach for Xiaojun first because he’s the one next to you. He bites his lip, letting his legs fall open for you. His eyelids flutter shut at the first touch of your hand over his pants and you smile to yourself. It’s cute.

“Are you really this hard from watching me jack of Xuxi?” Xiaojun groans, shaking his head, though his hips buck up when you slip your hand under his boxers.

“Oh come on, don’t lie. You were moaning and you weren’t even the one being touched.” Hendery points out, yelping when Xiaojun smacks him.

Xiaojun moans, soft and breathy, when you reach down to play with his balls. “Fine, yes, I- oh fuck, do that again. It’s just- you have nice hands.” He pants out, one hand reaching out to grip something. He ends up holding onto Hendery’s shoulder.

“Wow, Xiaojun, gonna come already?” Yangyang laughs, turned around in the chair to face you. Xiaojun doesn’t even bother to respond verbally, throwing up a weak middle finger instead.

You motion the youngest over. “Yangyang, you’re so far away. Come join the fun.” He takes a second to fix his boner situation before moving closer, settling on the arm rest next to Hendery.

Lucas is quiet for once, and it’s such a pleasant change that it doesn’t register that he’s being too quiet. Xiaojun is a moaning mess under your touch, and you’re so focused on making him feel good that you nearly vault yourself off of Lucas’s lap when he moves his hand to your pussy. He wastes no time slipping his hand under your loose shorts, rubbing you over the fabric of your panties. The pleasure it brings you has you moaning, hips rutting into his touch. A whine leaves you when he pulls his hand away, and it’s a smug look from him that snaps you out of your lustful haze.

“Baby wants my fingers that badly, huh?” Lucas sounds so cocky and it pisses you off, because yes, you do want his fingers that badly. They’re long and thick and you’ve been on edge for so long, all you want is to get off. You don’t respond, shifting all your attention to XIaojun, jerking him off pointedly. He cries out, slapping his hand over his mouth to muffle his moans as he comes, white spilling over your hand and his clothes. “Aww, don’t ignore me. I can feel how wet you are, baby.” “I don’t want your fingers, Lucas. I’ve been horny for like an hour- I would take anything at this point.” You let your eyes trail over his face. “You’re not special.” You wipe your cum-filled hand on his thigh, rolling your eyes at him.

“Fine, you could take anything? Ride my thigh, then.” He raises his eyebrows as if to say go on.

“I- what? I’m not going to do that.” You want to- God do you want to, but he’s so infuriating and you don’t want to give him the satisfaction.

He flexes his thigh muscles, lifting his leg to press it into your core. “Come on, y/n. I know you want to.” You look over at the other three boys- XIaojun looks like he’s half asleep, though he has Yangyang on his lap and is holding on to him tightly. Hendery is sitting next to you, palming himself leisurely.

“Or I could eat you out.” Yangyang offers, head cocked to the side. “Doesn’t my tongue sound so much nicer than Lucas’s thigh? He hasn’t washed his pants in like a month.” “Yes I have!” Lucas shouts, too loud directly next to your ear. You flinch at the volume. They look ready to argue the topic further, but you interrupt them.

“Yangyang, c’mere.” He shoots Lucas a smug look, prying himself out of Xiaojun’s arms to sit on the carpet in front of your spread legs. Xiaojun whines and wraps himself around Hendery. “Let’s see you put that tongue to good use.”

Yangyang smiles at you, dropping a kiss to your inner thigh before pulling down your shorts. A gentle kiss is pressed to your clothed core before your panties are gone, too, and then it’s just Yangyang’s mouth on your bare pussy. He parts your folds with his thumbs, tongue delivering a broad lick up your slit. You whimper, shifting on Lucas’s lap.

“You taste good.” Yangyang says, pulling back to admire your pussy. “So wet, too. I bet you’re dying for some relief right now.” You’re not one to beg but you’re getting close to it. The frustration that comes with being on edge for so long has you close to tears, You nod slowly.

Yangyang doesn’t waste another second before diving in, eating you out like it’s his sole purpose in life. His tongue fucks in and out of your hole quickly, before moving up to flick at your clit. You can’t help but to moan loudly, squirming and bucking up into his mouth. Lucas wraps his arm around your waist to keep you still.

A soft groan reminds you of Hendery’s presence and you reach your hand out to grasp his cock. He lets you take over for him easily, sagging against the couch as you start up a quick rhythm. There’s none of the teasing you’d given the others- you’re much to scattered to do something like that.

“Oh fuck, just- just like that.” Yangyang hooks your legs over his shoulder and you use your ankles to pull him in closer. “Don’t stop.” He mumbles something into your core and the vibrations have you moaning.

Loud moans leave you, your arousal only fueled when you think about just how filthy this whole situation is. You’re jerking off your friend while being eaten out by your other friend, all while sitting on the lap of your enemy who you’d jerked off earlier. Oh yeah, and all while your other friend is passed out because you’d also jerked him off. You whimper and clench around air.

Lucas pulls your face towards him, attaching your lips with no warning. You let yourself melt into him, moaning as he licks past your lips, plays with your tongue. He sucks on the muscle and you feel yourself gush, melting against him. You chase his mouth when he pulls away, feeling absolutely shameless at this point. Lucas just laughs and attaches his mouth to your neck, sucking hickeys into the skin. You throw your head back against his shoulder and give into the dizzy pleasure that’s trying to consume you.

Hendery places his hand on top of yours and fucks up into your grip, his groans growing in volume until he comes with your name on his lips. He lets go of your hand, tilting your face towards him before sliding his fingers past your lips. You suck on them mindlessly, moaning at the saltiness of his come.

Yangyang does something fantastic with his tongue and you come like that, Hendery’s fingers in your mouth, Lucas’s lips on your neck, and Yangyang tongue deep in your pussy. It’s the ultimate bliss, and you let yourself float off to the stars as they work you through it with gentle touches. Xiaojun mumbles about how gorgeous you look, his eyes half open from exhaustion and lust.

Soft moans leave you as Lucas continues to mark up your neck, Yangyang looking up at you from between your legs as he runs his palms up and down your thighs.

You reach your hands out for him. “Come on, let me return the favor.”

Yangyang just shakes his head, laughing. “I’m okay.”

You furrow your eyebrows, about to ask why, when Hendery lets out a bark of laughter. “Wow, Yangyang, I can’t believe you came in your pants. What are you, fifteen?” They start arguing, poor Yangyang hiding his face in your thigh. You stroke his hair, letting your eyelids flutter shut as Lucas shuffles around, somehow cuddling you more aggressively. You pull Yangyang up onto the couch, and him and Hendery end their argument by cuddling. Yangyang’s half on top of you half on top of Hendery, Xiaojun’s still attached to Hendery’s back. It’s so utterly comfortable that you fall asleep without much thought.

(You’re waken up by Kun’s loud screaming when he comes back from dinner. He’s traumatized.)

[i-see-you-now-you-see-me]

Loving us Both or, Another level of Crazy 

(oneshot, but depends of the future) Part of the DYVLONY series, can be read seperately

Pairing : villain Hendery (Wayv) x Reader

Word count: approx 4k

About: I tell you now, important part of this story is- Hendery has two personalities, but it comes up in the story, not to confuse you, here they are:

Hendery (Huang Guanhang)- boss

Guanhee- Huang Guanhee- who deals with all filthy stuff, boss/ to everyone they are brother and sister

Warnings: Mentions of blood and gore, a bit of descriptive character death, sex, filthy smut, Guanhee is a dirty bitch, sex, sex, and some more...

filth under the cut

*Earth, the third Planet from the Sun, 149.6 million kilometers away*

-I keep telling you that someone took her, I am sure of it! – Nurse Nana, your friend whom you hade become great friends, answered.

-Miss, there is no proof of that, you cannot just announce things like this on the internet, it is classed as a felony, - the police officer was not having it, it was the third family member this week, who were saying the exact same thing, “we were on a night out, and she never came back” sort of thing. And the best was, all of the missing persons went to the same club.

Yet police didn’t want to spend their money on this. There were far more important things for them to be dealing with at this hour.

-Alright miss, we will make a file and let you know as soon as something will come up, - he announced.

-Thank you, - nurse Nana thanked the police and left.

While studying at UNI you had a big exam coming up, to help you in the process you had applied to help at the local hospital, trainee psychologist assistant, and a Doctor Vera McGregorky welcomed you into all her conversations with her patients, who didn’t mind you, a student to be there and listen. You had signed the documents for confidential information, and not a single word had escaped your mouth in talks of other patients.

You had met Nana when you arrived, she was the one to greet you and lead you to the doctors’ office, she was nice, and you became friends.

Once your exam had passed, she had invited you for a glass of beer on a night out, (you rarely drank beer, but sometimes you enjoyed it), so you agreed. Somehow during the night, you were left alone, because Nana smoked, and she used to say, “I don’t want your lungs to get polluted because of me, you know that statistics have proven, that a non - smoker standing next to a smoker is at higher risk of lung pollution than the actual smoker,” and she would add with a grin, “that’s the trufff”.

And now, she was there. Walking down the street where the club was.

-Where are you, Y/N, what happened to you, - when she returned from smoking, you were nowhere to be found, she searched everywhere in the club where she could. Not a single glimpse from you was there.

Ever since that day, she has been trying to file a missing persons case, even posted on the internet about it, receiving a few reposts and likes, until she was called to police office. If they would have been a bit more interested in that, eh?

Nana sighed.

-Assholes, - she whispered as she walked of.

* Planet DYVLONY, 10043567901;1102033149001*

-I hate that bitch, - one of the henchmen spoke.

-I know, last time when she slapped you, I remember the look on your face, - he sighed, - why can’t it be her brother this time.

-I know, right? Sometimes she really gets on my nerves.

They both walked through a warehouse that belonged to the Infamous Twins of DYVLONY, and today was one of those days where, instead of himself – Hendery, their boss, more liked preferred boss, they had to work together with his twin sister Huang Guanhee, who, if/when in a bad mood, tended to treat people like shit.

-Didn’t I tell you, that I don’t want to see your ugly ass looking faces today? Huh? Was I not clear? – Huang Guanhee sat on a chair, while behind her, tied to a post was a naked woman, barely breathing, beaten to a pulp.

-Sorry to disturb you, ma’am, but Mr. Tieger wants to see you, or your brother, he is outside, - Guanhee sighed, she hated that bastard, he owed them a lot of money, and he was trying to barter all sorts of shit on a regular basis.

-Ah, - she groaned, - bring him in, - Guanhee agreed.

Both henchmen walked out, grabbed Mr. Tieger by his collar, and really brought him in on his knees, where he stayed. Looking up, seeing Guanhee sitting on the chair, he bit his cheek. She was not the person he wanted to see there.

-Why are you here? I am busy, - she said and crossed her legs.

-I, - his mouth felt dry there for a moment, there was something not right about this woman, - I have been selected to take care of… the aliens that had crashed.

Guanhee arched a brow.

-So? – she asked.

-I have no need of an alien in my home, and I thought… - she didn’t let him finish a sentence.

-You thought? – she abruptly stood up, - exactly what, huh? You come here an offer some alien? What’s in it for me, eh?

She walked closer and smacked Mr. Tieger in the face, so hard, he fell backwards. She groaned and straightened herself up. Guenhee looked at her poor, tied girl in the back, licking her lips, taking a stick from the floor, she walked over to the girl and beat her sides and legs, the girl only jerked around with no sound, tears flowing down her face, she had no voice anymore.

-This is what happens when you don’t pay back the money, and as much as I love a pink pussy to feast on, you don’t have one, so get the fuck out of these premises, and in ten days bring us back money, or else, I will leave you dick- less bleeding in the street, do you understand?

Never have you ever seen a man run as fast as Mr. Tieger did in that moment.

-This bitch is crazy, - he said to himself, as he got in his car and drove off.

Later in the room, on the top floor of the warehouse, Guanhee was undressing. Her stockings were rolled off, her skirt neatly folded on the bed, her white blouse folded on top of that, her hair, a brown (ish) wig, left on the side, before being put away on a mannequin. Fake eyelashes taken off, together with her make up, fake boobs off, and his penis freed from the tight panties.

-It’s your turn now, - she said and looked in the mirror. As soon as those words left her mouth, Hendery appeared, straightened himself up, hearing a knock on the door.

-Boss, it’s me, can I come in? – Hendery walked over and opened the door. His right- hand man was there. Dante was the only person on DYVLONY who knew the ugly truth.

Hendery and Guanhee were the same person.

*

You sat in the waiting room, a bit nervous, of course. Passing an exam had felt easier than this. Palms sweaty, one of your legs kept shaking.

-Nothing to worry about, - you assured yourself, - it’s going to be just fine.

Mr. Tieger was signing papers, ready to greet you, and then sell you off. He knew today he would see Hendery, not his sister, he was sure of it, he will definitely be ready to bargain. Once Hendery see’s how you look like, Mr. Tieger might be in for a good money.

-Hello, miss Y/N, I am Mr. William Tieger, - he shook your hand, - shall we go now?

You nodded. He looked like a “decent” man. Mr. Tieger made sure you walked first, he checked out how you looked like from behind, all the curves in the right places, he will def be swimming in gold after tonight.

-Let’s make a d-tour, - he said, helping you in his car, and soon he had stopped in front of what looked like a very posh atelier. Walking in, he was greeted with two DYVLONY ladies.

-Hello ser, how can be of assistance today, - they said in unison.

-I need to dress her, - he leaned in, while you weren’t listening, - the sexier the better.

Both girls nodded. This was the most popular atelier for a lot of reasons, and the girls were ready for their task. Taking your measures, they went to work on your clothing straight away. Soon, you were wearing embroidered bralette, with matching pantie set, and attached stockings, down your legs. And for whatever reason, your last piece of clothing, a really flimsy looking dress was put on, you looked cheap.

-What is this? – you asked, - I am not wearing it! – you protested.

-You, - Mr. Tieger spoke, - my darling, won’t have a choice.

With that your world went black. One of the assistants had knocked you out, wearing a big smile on her face, even while tying you up. Mr. Tieger paid in cash, threw you over his shoulder, and left. Putting you in the booth of his car, for no one to see. He smiled to himself adding the last piece – a mouth cloth.

-Let’s make Hendery happy, - smacking your thigh with his hand, he closed the booth and drove off.

The warehouse looked as dead as ever. Henchmen stood in the front, guarding the twins, as Mr. Tieger pulled up. Stepping out, he gave the man a sheepish grin.

-I am here to speak with Hendery, I have something to offer, - this time, henchmen didn’t say anything, just opened the door to let him in. Mr. Tieger took you out from the back, and again, put you over his shoulder, bringing you in. Slowly walking closer, he noticed that the chair was turned around.

-Huang Guanheng, - he greeted, - good to see you here.

There was no response on the other side.

-I am here to bargain a little something, you might find of value, - he smiled, putting you down on the cold floor. He didn’t notice how “Hendery” crossed his legs, and his arms over his chest. – this is the alien; I think she might be to your liking.

The doors of the warehouse were now locked, no one could get in, and no one could get out. Somehow, you found yourself waking up, no sounds leaving your mouth, but a short breath. Startled by a strong grip on your jaw, your eyes stayed shut.

-What do you think? – Mr. Tieger’s smug face was back at it. The chair turned around and he gasped. – what the fuck?! – he shouted.

Looking back at him was Guanhee, wearing her best smile, she even winked towards him.

-I thought I warned you once, - she said, still sitting down.

-Where is Hendery, Guanhee? – Mr. Tieger asked.

-I don’t have to answer you, but if you must know, I take that as your dying wish. You really are something, - Guanhee said, - but no worries, soon I will gut you like a fish, and make sure everyone is watching.

-What??? – Mr. Tieger was angry, he came towards her in big striking steps. Once close enough, he was ready to grab Guanhee by her hair, and before he could react a knife was plunged in his lower abdomen.

-I did promise you, didn’t I? – she giggled as a crazy person, the knife was now used to cut Mr. Tieger open, knife stopping at his ribs, while blood gushed out of him. His knees hit the floor, and you opened your eyes. Startled to see what was going on, you had to get away. Easier said than done, with your arms tied behind your back, and your legs tied as well, the only movement you could do, is somewhat like a worm, inch by inch moving away, trying not to pay attention to someone dying in the background.

Guanhee watched as Mr. Tieger bled on the floor, her own clothing was dirtied by now, but she didn’t bother. Looking over she saw you trying to crawl away, and she smiled.

-Hey, - she shouted, and you stopped not knowing why you stopped. – I will give you ten second head start, say thank you Guanhee, - she clapped her hands.

Your eyes were bulging out of your scull now, ten seconds? No chance you’ll get anywhere, a sudden thought was in the back of your mind. “I will die now”, tears started streaming down your face as you kept on trying to move away.

-Ten, - Guanhee announced as she stepped closer, starting the count down. – Nine. Eight. Seven. Six. Five. Four. Three. Two. One.

You heard her right by you when she said “one”, her hand grabbed a fistful of your hair, pulling your upper body upwards, making you even more uncomfortable. The bloody knife in front of your face, you started pleading for your life, even with your mouth filled with cloth, that was tied behind your head. You must have sounded terrible… because Guanhee let go of your hair. You landed on your face, hitting your forehead in the process.

-Give her a shower, - Guanhee mentioned with her hands, - then tie her up like normal.

-Yes ma’am, - henchman nodded.

Dragging you away for the “shower”, which in reality meant, ice cold water on your body, getting you rid of the clothes you wore. Cold and worn out from the cold shower blast, you didn’t struggle when your naked body was tied up by the wooden post. The only thing you could see was a chair, which was unoccupied for now.

Guanhee washed up, changed her clothes, looking in the mirror, she smiled to herself, putting on her glasses, she walked through the room and down the stairs.

She saw your naked form from the second floor and rubbed her palms together. Sitting on the chair, she watched you closely. You didn’t struggle, your mouth had tape over it, the only thing you did, you were weeping, trying to do it quietly.

Listen. You had seen crazy, while working at the hospital, there had been patients that had to be in the mental asylum, you had read too much about serial killers, how they disliked people crying, or, how it edged them on. So, you tried to calm yourself.

Guanhee stood up and walked closer.

-You do have a pretty face, though, - she started, taking your jaw in her hand, - I must say, Mr. Tieger was right, you could be of use, - she gave you a smile. Her hand let go of your face and then she grabbed your nipple. Pinching it, twisting it with her fingers. You didn’t know what to do, how to react, your body betrayed you well, heat pooling in your lower areas, the same as the hotness travelling to your face.

Then her lips enveloped the other nipple, she went full licking and sucking on your breast, and soon her hand was not only pinching the nipple but massaging the whole breast.

“Fuck no,” you thought to yourself, trying to get your body to cooperate with your mind, but it wouldn’t budge.

Then she swapped it over, her lips on the other of your breast peaks and the other twisting your other nipple. Her hot mouth was providing you with saliva, that you felt sliding down your torso, to your stomach.

-Guess my favorite color, - she spoke looking at you. You didn’t know what to say, and you couldn’t anyways, but still. Without a warning her hand was in between your legs, grabbing on the soft skin of your inner thighs.

Your breath hitched in your throat.

What was she doing?

-I will tell you, - she said as she got on her knees, you saw henchman approaching. Your legs got untied, and the henchmen were holding you up. Shame of nakedness like this was seen on your face. You were now legs apart, pussy on display, a single drop of your nectar gathered on your pussy lips. You looked everywhere else, but not down. Guanhee smacked your thigh to get your attention, it went to a shade of red after the second smack. – I love pink, - she announced while biting her lip.

Your heart was in your throat now, beating so fast, you weren’t ready for what Guanhee had in mind. Her tongue prodded pass her lips, and the tip of it touched your mound. She then gave you a test lick between your folds, swallowing your juices, slowly moving her tongue up and down until she reached your tight hole. She smiled. You saw her smile before she took of her glasses and her tongue went back to its job.

Her tongue dived in your tight hole, in and out, a little faster then and a little slower after, tears were threatening to fall down your face again. Not only a woman was going down on you, but it was also giving you a spark of pleasure. She sat back on her knees, bringing a hand to her face, licking a finger, before the same finger entered you, you shut your eyes.

She was exploring your vaginal walls, finding a soft spot, that made your legs quiver a bit, she continued to press on it more, and then her mouth attacked your clitoris. She sucked and licked, and she finger – fucked you, till you orgasmed, screaming through the tape, your legs shaking from pleasure. Intense waves of hot electric feeling went through all of you, goosebumps rising on your skin.

Guanhee stepped back, her face was covered in your cum, she licked her lips, wiping some of your cum on her hand so she could lick it off. She stood up.

-What a good girl, - she said, - coming on my face like that, hmm, I might just keep you.

With that she walked away. Soon your legs were down on the floor again, tied back up. Then the tape was pulled off, and you were given water by one of the henchmen. Chugging it down like it was your last meal, not knowing what’s going to happen after.

And for some reason, you drifted to sleep soon after that.

When you woke up, the sun was peeking through the windows. Once your eyes adjusted, your face turned straight to the chair. There was a figure sitting there. Looking at you was a man. Who looked just like the lady… Guanhee was her name, right? Uhm, what?

-Good morning, - he greeted, you nodded. If you were alive, it really was a good morning. – I am Hendery, you must have heard about me?

You nodded “no”.

-I see, - he laughed a bit, - you really are not from here, are you?

The more you looked at him, the more it seemed like you were tripping. Somewhere in your mind was a doubt. Alright, you have heard of identical twins, and all that, but so much common in looks on twins, it was a rare sight. And the doubt in your mind was saying, that something was not right.

-You look tired, - he said, - rough night?

You rolled your eyes at the comment. Hendery stood up and walked over.

-How about I untie you, give you some clothing and some soup? It can stay our secret, - he said, and you nodded. Soon after you were clothed and fed, and very thankful.

The next couple of days, you were allowed to move around in the warehouse and a bit outside at the back, mainly just sitting down at a wooden table with one of the henchmen to accompany you. You were thinking. The more you thought of a possibility that could be true, the more you started to agree that it really could be true.

Psychology had taught you well. Seeing the signs of un-healthy mind was easy for you to spot, those couple of months helping Doctor Vera, were paying off.

The next day, while outside eating breakfast, you were greeted by Guanhee.

-I thought I might see you here, - she said startling you, -my brother has treated you well, - she bit her cheek.

-At least he’s nice, - it came out harsher than expected. Guanhee grabbed your hair to turn your face to her, and smacked your cheek, left one first and then your other one. Then she pulled you up only to kick your legs, so you fell on your knees. She didn’t let go of your hair.

-Ah, - she said, - is this how we are going to play? Shall I tie you to the post again? – her eyes were filled with anger as she spat the words out, - starve you until you are nothing but a pile of bones for the wild wolves?

-No wonder everyone hates you, - you hit her weak spot with your sentence.

The cold shower was blasting at you again, you fell down, this time Guanhee was doing it herself, and to your surprise, she was stronger than she looked. Dragging you by your hair, this time she tied you, while you were on your knees. You ended up- legs wide opened, ass in the air, while your breasts were pressed at the wooden post.

She disappeared.

You didn’t even hear or see where she went, but you were left all by yourself, your eyes closing for a brief moment.

-My sister left you for me as a gift, - a voice spoke, waking you up from your slumber, it was Hendery. He was next to you, his hands stroking your sides, your stomach, then your ass cheeks, giving both of them a squeeze. – she knows how to make me happy, - he said.

His hand begin massaging your pussy, stroking your folds.

-Don’t do it, - you squeaked out, when Hendery’s hand touched your clitoris.

-And why not, - he smiled as he continued the assault on your cunt, - my sister already had a taste, I really want to try that too, - he pouted. – she always gets all the fun.

-I would rather suck your dick, - you spoke to stop him.

-Maybe another time, - you heard the zipper of his trousers, and then you felt his thick cock prod at your entrance. He moved his mushroom head up and down your folds, gathering the slick to cover his member. His hand softly touched your stomach as he was steadying himself. – breath in, baby-girl, - he whispered, licking on your ear, where he positioned his body.

His thick cock entered you only a couple of centimeters, you exhaled loudly with a moan. Slipping deeper, Hendery made sure to wait, till you got accustomed, inch by inch. Once completely sheathed inside of you, his balls where right at your bottom, he started a steady rhythm. It was followed by grunts and groans, and every thrust he gave you was as delicious as a desert after a meal.

Your walls were clamping down on him so hard, Hendery had to stop, to make you relax a bit more, and then he would get back to it. He knew you were close, the more your walls were sucking him deeper, the readier to orgasm you were. With a couple more thrusts you came, biting your lips, grabbing onto the wood. Hendery still worked to reach his high, and just before he could, you came again, and then he stilled, filling your abused cunt to the brim.

His arms around your body stayed like that for a while, the same as his lips licked your sweat from the back of your neck, down to your shoulder blades. Pulling out slowly, he earned a moan from you.

-Should I leave you like this? – he teased. – I think I will…

-Noo, - you protested, - I cannot feel my knees, - you said honestly.

So instead of leaving you like that, he turned you around, tied your back against the post, with his seed between your legs, making it impossible to move, the unpleasant feeling lingering there. He was smiling at you. The same smile Guanhee gave you. And he walked up the stairs and, in that room, where you had seen Guanhee disappear a couple of times, only to be greeted by Hendery the next day, or Guanhee a day after that.

And as you anticipated, you woke up with someone touching you, opening your eyes you saw Guanhee, licking her lips.

-Beautiful morning, isn’t it? – she asked, and you didn’t respond. – my brother had some fun, I see, - she licked her lips, - I can clean you up, if you’d like?

You nodded a “no”, and Guanhee stared at you, before leaving.

-I know who you are, - you shouted behind her, and Guanhee slowly walked back.

-And what is that?

You stayed quiet, till she was right in front of you. She stared down at you, grabbing your jaw in her hand.

-Hendery is you and you are Hendery, Guanhee doesn’t exist…- you said. – you are not real.

She slapped you.

-Are you afraid of the truth? – you asked. – you and I both know; this is not the way to live.

-Who are you? – she asked, grabbing you even harder.

-I can help you, - you said, - I can help you both, if only you’d let me…

The conclusion – split personality. This might be the scariest patient of all, but you were ready to use your knowledge to help as much as you could.

Guanhee stared at you, leaning in, and you felt something pressing onto your leg. Through her tight skirt, a visible boner was pressing through, her lips attacked yours.

-But before that, we can play a little…