my burning heart (won’t listen to me)
pairing → wen junhui x reader
word count → 991
genre → is sexy a genre. maybe fluff ? LMAO
↳ tags: established relationship, SECRET relationship, fashion stylist reader, guys you don’t get it i BIASED jun over this comeback. its not fucking funny, jun is a tease, and also cocky </3, and also HOT ASF, sexual tension, trying to be responsible and then just throwing caution to the wind, a tiny bratty reader moment, and also a tiny bit of domesticity at the end, jands (jun hands)
song inspo → hot by seventeen!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
warnings → swearing, also suggestive!!
a/n → jun came on screen in that stupid jacket and those stupid sunglasses and that was it for me. that was all it took. he is so hot and i want him. and this is me wanting him publicly. wen junhui one day i will make you pay for this.
“You are fucking crazy,” you mumble in disbelief, pulling Jun into one of the private tents on set. He follows you with no resistance. “Crazy, wearing this outfit and acting like that –”
“Aren’t you the one who put me in this outfit?” Jun interrupts, tilting his head at you. His sunglasses rest low on his nose, feelin’ so hot, and yeah, you are. The wind ripples the edges of the tent, flutters some shirts hanging on a rack. Distantly, you hope the dust doesn’t kick up under the tent and ruin the clothes.
“Yeah, and then you went out there and acted like that,” you glare at him, watching as he grins at you. You gently slap what’s exposed of his chest (you really should have made him wear something under that jacket, Jesus) and he snorts, a warm hand coming to rest on your hip. It sets you on fire. “Didn’t matter how good you looked until you went out there and stuck your tongue out like that.”
“My tongue wasn’t even out,” he backfires. You have to repress a sigh when he brushes hair away from your neck, fingers brushing against the skin. The fan plugged into a portable charger does nothing to stop the heat of an early summer, and it does nothing to stop the heat from Jun.
“I hate you,” you say, because it’s the only thing your mind can actually think. Jun smiles and behind the sound of wind you can hear the other members laughing.
“Is that why you dragged me in here? Because you hate me?” He asks, taking half a step closer to you. You let him, breathe in his perfume, tell yourself not to unclasp the single button closed on his jacket.
(He’s probably hot, anyways, your sick brain tells you. You’d be doing him a favor. Your fingers twitch at the base of his jacket.)
You think all you say out loud is something resembling mmph and Jun coos at you, clicking his tongue. You’re chest-to-chest, his face inches from yours. And you should be used to this by now, you shouldn’t be so affected, but. But.
“Shame you decided to get all needy in public,” he says, and you gape at him, but can’t find the words to try and refute him. You aren’t usually like this, he just looked so good, and it’s technically your fault, but still – “Can’t do anything with all my friends around.”
You hear Hoshi say something animated and Woozi’s laugh rings loud, not far away. You want Jun to do something, anything. His hand squeezes your waist. “Can’t even kiss me?”
His face softens, but his smirk still stands. “I think we both know where that’ll get us.”
You see your opening and take it. “I don’t,” you respond, eager. “Where?”
Jun opens his mouth and you grab his wrist, pulling his hand further up your side, fingertips slipping underneath your shirt. Your other hand rests bold on his stomach, and it flexes beneath your touch. His eyes flash over the red rim of his sunglasses and he lets out a choked laugh, tongue poking at the inside of his cheek. You watch him, hard, craving.
“Now who’s the crazy one,” he asks, rhetorical. You shrug, not trying to conceal your own grin.
Jun’s free hand cups your face, gentle, and you take a deep breath in, trying to push yourself even closer to him. One of his legs slots in between yours and he leans down, slow. Teasing. You want to whine, beg for him to move faster, but you have some shame. Can’t have anyone else hearing what’s only meant for him.
You feel his breath over your lips. Your mouth parts to welcome him –
“Is Jun changed yet? We’re filming the next bit!”
Oh, who knew the director could be such a cockblock.
Jun freezes, then grins. All too easily he pulls away, an arms length away, not nearly as close as you need him. He licks his lips and you stare, eyes fluttering.
Answer, he mouths at you, and it takes you a second to realize he means the director. You part yourself from him fully (frustratingly) and walk to the entrance of the tent, unclipping the makeshift door and sticking your head out. “S-Sorry, I was letting him rest while I looked for some of the clothes. He’ll be ready soon.”
The director nods and waves his hand at you, quickly talking to one of the cameramen. You disappear back into the tent, watching Jun stand with his hands in his pockets in between the racks of clothing items.
“I hate you,” you say, bitter and mean. Jun gapes at you.
“Hey, you’re the one who came onto me at work,” he says, and you huff, walking past him to actually find his next outfit. You hear the smile in his voice. “You should probably make this easier on yourself and give me something, like, horrendous.”
Sleeveless, you think to yourself, sifting through the available tops. You know it’s in here somewhere. “When did you grow such an ego?”
Jun shrugs, leaning against the clothing rack. One of his hands plays with the edge of your shirt and you take a deep breath in. “Probably when I saw you staring at me when we were filming out there.”
You roll your eyes, finding the shirt you were looking for, then grabbing the pants you had laid out earlier when you were in your right mind. You shove them at Jun and he grabs them, holding them to his chest. “Shoes are the last pair on the right by the mirror,” you tell him, purposely ignoring the look on his face. “And I –” you grab your things from one of the vanity tables, “ – will see you at home.”
You turn around to leave, but there’s no avoiding the smile in Jun’s voice when he says, “can’t wait, baby.”
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