#alpha!park jay

[liuhsng]

✩ˎˊ˗ no-fly zone ( pjs ! ) — part 1

✩ˎˊ˗ part of the untouchable series | enhypen masterlist

⤷ pairing — jay x fem!reader

⤷ part 1 | part 2 ⤷ word count — 14.5k ⤷ taglist for the series — open !

⤷ warnings — a/b/o au, foul language, alpha!jay, omega!reader, fem!reader, enemies to lovers trope, forced proximity, lots of sexual tension, jay’s a menace = you’re a menace, jay is emotinally constipated, jay has issues (but he’s your issue now), jay is confused and lowkey obsessed, mentions of the other parts from this series, not proofread

⤷ a/n — i'm back baby, this is literally my favorite work rn i can’t even lie + I SWEAR, THIS HAS A PART 2 JUST GIVE ME A FEW HOURS, enjoy !!

✩ˎˊ˗ summary — park jongseong—better known as jay, had everything: wealth, power, and a name that carried undeniable influence. a pureblooded alpha and the only son of a family that dominated the aviation industry, he was sharp enough to take over the business and reckless enough to make the upper-ups lose patience. despite his position as student council treasurer, his reputation preceded him: missed deadlines, flawless grades, and a habit of picking the wrong fights. their solution? a tutor. a glorified babysitter. and, of course, it had to be you. an omega with a spotless record, a name as weighty as his own, and an infuriating presence that had always stood in his way. your families worked together, but you and jay never had. now, forced into each other’s space, the line between rivalry and something far more dangerous begins to blur.

The atmosphere in the lecture hall was suffocating, tension thick enough to choke on.

Jay sat back in his seat, legs stretched out in front of him, one arm draped lazily over the chair’s backrest. His expression was unreadable, a careful mask of boredom that only made the fury in his professor’s voice sound more desperate.

“You think just because you have power, you don’t have to put in the effort?” The professor’s voice cut through the silence, accusing.

“That your name alone is enough to get you by? That you can just waltz in and out of this classroom and still expect to be given the same respect as those who actually work for it?”

A few students stiffened in their seats. Others exchanged glances, some barely breathing. No one spoke. No one dared to.

Jay, however, barely looked fazed. If anything, he looked bored. He blinked, slow and deliberate, before tilting his head slightly.

“That’s an interesting accusation,” he mused, voice smooth, laced with something dangerous. “And what exactly have I done to ‘abuse’ my so-called power?”

The professor scoffed, crossing his arms. “Do you even hear yourself, Park? You show up when you feel like it, you turn in work whenever it suits you, and yet you still expect to be at the top of this class. You might be the student council treasurer, but that doesn’t mean you can—”

“—handle my academics?” Jay cut in, raising a brow. His voice was quieter now, but somehow even sharper. “I do my council work, don’t I? So tell me, if I can run the financials of this entire school, why wouldn’t I be able to keep up with my classes?”

His professor faltered, lips pressing into a thin line. But Jay was already done with this conversation.

His gaze dropped, falling to the Cartier watch wrapped around his wrist. He stared at it for a long moment, watching the second hand tick forward, before exhaling slowly.

Then, without another word, he pushed back his chair. The legs scraped against the tiled floor, the sound ringing through the lecture hall like a gunshot.

He stood, grabbing his bag in one fluid motion. On the desk beside him, a thick folder sat untouched; the very project that had been due yesterday. Without looking, he picked it up and strode to the front of the room, his footsteps slow, measured, deafening in the silence.

And then, with the kind of careless precision that only he could pull off, he dropped the folder onto the professor’s desk with a heavy thud.

A few students flinched. The professor barely breathed.

Jay adjusted the strap of his bag over his shoulder, finally meeting the man’s eyes again. His expression was unreadable, but there was something almost amused lurking beneath it.

“Here,” he said simply, his voice dangerously quiet. “On time, as always.”

And then, without sparing another glance, he turned and walked out.

No rush, no hesitation. Just Park Jongseong, unbothered as ever, leaving behind a stunned professor and a classroom full of students who could do nothing but watch in awed, uneasy silence.

Because even when Jay didn’t follow the rules—he never once lost.

Jay moved through the halls with the ease of someone who belonged, not just in the school but above it. His strides were unhurried, exuding a quiet authority that made people step aside without him ever asking. Conversations dipped the moment he passed, whispers filling the void he left behind.

Most watched him with admiration, others with wariness, but they all watched.

It was always like this. Jay wasn’t just a student; he was the heir to a business empire, a pureblooded Alpha; he never begged, never chased, never had to ask for anything. The world bent in his favor.

And even when it didn’t, he simply took what he wanted anyway.

He barely acknowledged the attention, barely registered the murmured voices trailing behind him like a shadow. He had no reason to care. The class he had just left had been nothing short of a joke— lessons he had already known for years. A complete waste of time.

Now, he had better things to do.

The student council room was quiet when he arrived, the heavy doors clicking shut behind him. Jungwon sat at the far end of the room, hunched over his own stack of files, brows furrowed in concentration. He didn’t even glance up. On the opposite side, Ni-ki was slumped over his desk, one arm draped over his face, mouth slightly parted in sleep.

Jay stepped inside like he owned the place, because he did.

His desk stood exactly where he left it, neat and untouched, save for the stack of papers waiting for his approval. The nameplate perched on the edge gleamed under the fluorescent light: Park Jongseong, Student Council Treasurer.

He didn’t waste time. Shrugging off his blazer, he rolled up his sleeves, revealing the toned forearms littered with faint bruises from a fight long since forgotten.

Then, without hesitation, he reached for the first document on the pile, flipping through the pages with the same sharp precision he applied to everything else.

The weight of the world balanced between his fingers.

And Jay, as always, carried it like it was nothing.

The room remained steeped in silence, save for the rustle of papers and the occasional shift of Ni-ki’s sleeping form. The quiet was almost welcome—almost.

“Another disagreement with a professor?”

The words came from across the room, flat and unsurprised. Jungwon didn’t even bother looking up from his stack of files, his pen scratching lazily against the paper.

Jay exhaled sharply through his nose, a scoff more than an actual laugh. Not at Jungwon, but at the fact that word had already spread.

“Didn’t take long, huh?” he muttered, flipping to the next page in his file without much thought. His voice held the same easy arrogance as always, laced with something almost amused.

Jungwon smirked, still not looking up. “Dude, it’s you. At this point, it’d be bigger news if you actually went an entire week without pissing off a professor.”

Jay hummed, leaning back against his chair, stretching his arms over his head before letting them drop onto the armrests. “And? What about it?”

Jungwon let out a breath that was more laughter than sigh, finally setting his pen down. He clasped his hands together, resting his chin atop them as he gave Jay a knowing look.

“You know, for someone who checks every box of a perfect student, you really need to start giving a damn about these kinds of shit.”

Jay’s eyes flickered up, “Why would I?”

Jungwon merely chuckled, shaking his head. “Because you’re giving the higher-ups exactly what they want.”

For a moment, Jay didn’t respond. Then he leaned forward, arms resting on the desk, voice low and laced with something just shy of amusement. “And what exactly is that?”

Jay let out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head. “Jungwon,” he started, voice dripping with something close to condescension, “their salaries come from us. From our families,”

He tilted his head slightly, watching Jungwon carefully. “So tell me, do you really think they’d risk stepping out of line?”

Jungwon only shrugged, picking up his pen again. “I think you’re making it easier for them to try.”

Before Jay could respond, the heavy doors swung open, cutting through the conversation.

Heeseung was the first to walk in, adjusting his cufflinks, his brows furrowed slightly like he had just come from something particularly annoying.

Jake followed soon after, his lips twitching with amusement, and Sunghoon strolled in right beside him, looking thoroughly unimpressed. Sunoo had his arms crossed, a knowing glint in his eyes.

“Jay,” Heeseung drawled, dropping into one of the empty chairs, “you really need to stop pissing off the professors.”

Sunghoon huffed, tugging at the loosened tie around his collar. “And you say we’re reckless.”

Jake smirked, shaking his head. “I just saw your professor storming into the admin office, he didn’t look too happy.”

Jay didn’t even look up from the papers in front of him. “Should’ve assigned something actually worth my time, then.”

Sunoo let out a short laugh, shaking his head. “You are so full of yourself.”

Jay finally glanced up, resting his elbow on the desk and tilting his head slightly. “And?” His smirk widened, voice laced with amusement. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

Jake whistled lowly, shaking his head. “One day, man. One day, they’re actually gonna pull something on you.”

Jay only chuckled, leaning back in his chair. “Then let’s see if they have the nerve.”

And just like that, the conversation was over.

Jay wasn’t looking for trouble.

Not this time, at least.

He had left the council room with one goal in mind—find a vending machine, grab a drink, and get to his next class before the headache forming behind his eyes got any worse. With his tie loosened and sleeves rolled up, he looked more like someone who ruled this academy than simply walked through it.

“Fucking useless council doesn’t even do shit. Bunch of spoiled leeches living off family names.”

Jay’s steps didn’t stop. He’d heard worse. He wasn’t in the mood.

But then—

“And Park Jongseong? That bastard’s a walking headache. Always in fights, never in class. Total burden, that one.”

That made him stop.

He exhaled slowly through his nose, jaw tightening as he turned on his heel. Three Alphas. Not just any Alphas—delusional ones. Ones who thought that just because they shared the same title, they were anywhere near his level.

Jay’s gaze swept over them with cold indifference, expression unreadable. A predator surveying prey.

One of them, a bulky second-year with more muscle than sense, met his gaze with an arrogant smirk.

“What did you just say?” His voice was soft. Almost pleasant. Almost.

Jay took a step forward, gaze steady. His bag slid off his shoulder and hit the ground with a dull thud.

The guy scoffed, chin raising like he thought this was going to be some pathetic pissing contest. “You heard me. You’re a burden, Park Jongseong. Just throwing your weight around, hiding behind your family’s name.”

Jay’s jaw twitched. Not with anger.

With boredom.

“You really think this is the hill you want to die on?”

Before they could answer, Jay’s fist connected with the guy’s jaw. The crack echoed across the stone path, followed by a sharp grunt as the Alpha stumbled back, crashing into the iron bench behind him.

The other two didn’t waste time—they lunged.

Jay ducked under the first punch, letting it sail over his shoulder before delivering a brutal elbow to the side of the Alpha’s head. The third tried to grab him from behind, but Jay twisted free, slamming his palm against the guy’s face and shoving him backward with enough force to send him toppling over his friend.

Blood spattered across the edge of his collar. Someone groaned. Another cursed.

Jay barely blinked.

One of the Alphas managed to swing wide, landing a weak punch to Jay’s side. He barely flinched. Instead, he turned and landed a right hook that sent the idiot reeling to the dirt.

It didn’t last long. It never did.

Jay adjusted his sleeve, breathing steady as he looked over the mess he left in the grass.

One of them groaned from where he lay curled on the ground, and somewhere in the distance—a shrill cry.

Jay’s head tilted slightly.

A girl, probably one of their mates had appeared from around the hedge, gasping in horror as she caught sight of the scene.

Her hands flew to her mouth. “Oh my god, what happened—what did you do to them?!”

Jay didn’t even look at her. He grabbed his bag, slung it over his shoulder, and wiped a streak of blood from his knuckle with the corner of his uniform.

“Tch.” He scoffed under his breath, turning away from the mess like it wasn’t even worth the effort of acknowledgment. “Tell them to watch who they run their mouths around.”

The girl’s voice rang out behind him—shaky, pitched with fury and disbelief. “You’re gonna pay for this, Park! You think you can keep getting away like this?”

He didn’t stop. Didn’t even slow down.

The sound of her threats faded behind him, buried under the weight of his own indifference. Her voice was just another noise in a world that had too much of it already. He tugged at the sleeve of his uniform where blood had stained the cuff, and with a quiet scoff, flicked the edge down like it wasn’t even there.

What was she going to do? Cry to the higher-ups?

Jay stalked through the side halls of the academy, his pace unhurried, movements fluid with the same dangerous calm that had haunted the bruised and bloodied trio left behind on the grass. He passed by a few students, some whispered. Some stared. Most pretended not to notice the faint smudge of blood near his collar.

The classroom was quiet when he pushed open the door. Second period. Business Strategy. Another joke of a class with a professor who acted like theory ever meant anything in a real-world empire.

Jay’s eyes scanned the room once, sharp and bored, before they landed on the only person who mattered in the moment.

Sunghoon.

Sitting by the window, legs crossed, silver-rimmed glasses perched on the bridge of his nose as he scribbled something into his notes with a blue pen. His back was straight, posture perfect. He didn’t even need to look up, he already knew.

But unlike him, Sunghoon didn’t indulge in chaos. He didn’t need to. His brand of power was colder, quieter, a silent scalpel instead of a roaring fire.

Jay made his way to his seat without a word, dropping his bag with a thud, the chair creaking under his weight as he leaned back.

“You smell like blood.”

Sunghoon’s voice broke the stillness, calm but edged with that unmistakable disapproval only he could manage. He didn’t look up from his notes. Didn’t need to.

Jay smirked. The one that twisted the corners of his mouth into something sharp and crooked. The one that came right before someone regretted crossing him.

“Wasn’t my fault this time.”

Sunghoon finally looked up, slow and deliberate, eyes narrowing as they landed on the faint red on Jay’s knuckles.

“Doesn’t mean it didn’t happen.”

Jay leaned forward, elbows on the desk, resting his chin on his hand as he stared back, amused. “They were talking. Spouting shit about the council. About me.”

Sunghoon didn’t respond right away. Just studied him. Like he was debating whether to call him out or let it slide.

“They’re just jealous.” Jay’s voice dropped into something lower, laced with pride. “No pedigree. No power. Just noise trying to echo louder than it should.”

Sunghoon sighed, setting down his pen.

“You’re going to end up on the university's front page one day, you know that?”

Jay chuckled under his breath, stretching out in his seat like the whole world owed him space.

“Good. About time they started printing things that matter.”

And with that, he turned his head toward the window, letting the sunlight catch the faint smudge of red still clinging to his skin, completely unbothered.

The council room was quieter than usual, the afternoon sun slanting through the high arched windows and casting golden streaks across the dark wood table.

Only seven seats were filled, the rest empty; a rare, informal meeting between the inner circle.

Jungwon sat at the head of the table, his expression unreadable as he flipped through several clipped pages of final project proposals, while Heeseung leaned closer to get a better view, murmuring comments here and there.

“We’ll need to finalize the proposals by next week,” Jungwon said, his voice calm but laced with authority.

“Heeseung, double-check which department submissions are missing and send a notice before tomorrow’s end. Jake, make sure the permits are in by Friday, I don’t want delays. Sunoo, go over the communications plan, see if it fits the timeline.”

Jake nodded, scribbling something into his notes. “Already on it.”

Sunoo offered a small salute from across the table. “Social media templates are halfway done. I’ll send them for review tonight.”

“Sunghoon,” Jungwon continued, “you’re in charge of marketing coordination for the week. Keep our outreach tight. Ni-ki, check in with the lower-year reps, remind them this isn’t vacation season.”

Ni-ki groaned but gave a thumbs-up, clearly still half-asleep as he twirled his pen lazily between his fingers.

“And Jay,” Jungwon said, his eyes shifting to the treasurer who sat farther down the table, lounging like the meeting was a minor inconvenience. His legs were crossed, one hand twirling a pen while the other balanced the budget folder against the table's edge.

Jay sighed, snapping the folder open. “Yeah, yeah. Budget review. Let’s get it over with.”

He glanced at the numbers and began reading aloud with casual detachment. “We have more than enough to fund this cycle’s cultural and academic allocations, assuming no new surprise expenses show up.”

He flipped to the next page, eyes narrowing slightly. “Also, whoever ordered last term’s light rentals should be banned from touching a receipt again.”

Jake chuckled under his breath, already knowing who Jay was referring to.

Jay paused briefly, his fingers tapping against the wood. There was something contemplative in the way he stared down at the inked numbers, like his mind had wandered elsewhere.

“Isn’t it funny,” he muttered, voice low but clearly audible, “how I’m the irresponsible one, and yet I’m still the one cleaning up their mess?”

A knock interrupted the moment.

Jay didn’t bother looking up. “Probably someone wasting my time,” he mumbled, flipping the folder closed.

Another knock came, louder.

He clicked his tongue, annoyed. “Come in,” he snapped.

The door creaked open, revealing a first-year beta standing awkwardly in the doorway, clutching a folded paper like it might protect him. He hesitated before stepping fully inside, his face already pale.

Jay’s eyes locked on him, slow and deliberate. The beta visibly tensed as the scent of sandalwood and tequila thickened, laced with a bitter edge of annoyance. Jay raised a brow, unimpressed.

“Spit it out.”

The boy’s hands shook. “Y-You’re needed at the Head Office, sir. The Headmaster… he said it’s urgent.”

Jay didn’t respond. He simply stared, the silence stretching long enough to make the boy fidget.

Jake reached over and gently pulled the folder from Jay’s hand before the latter’s temper could ignite. “Just go,” he said with a half-smile. “You’ll melt the poor kid with that glare.”

Sunghoon didn’t look up from his tablet. “Try not to start a war while you’re at it.”

Jay scoffed, rising to his full height, his movements smooth and deliberate. He tugged the cuffs of his blazer into place, the air around him still crackling faintly from his earlier irritation.

“Tell the Headmaster he owes me ten minutes of peace,” he muttered coldly, shooting one last glare at the messenger as he strode past, his presence still lingering heavily even after the door clicked shut behind him.

The hallway was quiet, footsteps echoing as Jay and the first-year beta walked side by side—or rather, the beta trailed half a step behind, nervously glancing up at him every few seconds. Jay said nothing. His silence was as sharp as a blade, stretched taut like a wire ready to snap.

They hadn’t made it more than a few turns from the council room when the boy fumbled with the folded paper and held it out, his voice almost a whisper. “S-Sir, the letter… the Headmaster asked me to give it to you.”

Jay stopped. He took the letter slowly, opening it with a lazy flick of his fingers. His eyes scanned the contents. Whatever was written on the paper didn’t seem to amuse him in the way it should have—instead, a sarcastic laugh slipped past his lips.

“Of course,” he said under his breath, crumpling the letter in one hand before stuffing it into his blazer pocket like it was trash. “If he makes me late for my next class, I’m filing a harassment complaint.”

The beta beside him paled even more, sweating nervously under the weight of Jay’s sharp tone and overpowering scent. Jay didn’t spare him another glance, already walking forward again as if the entire thing was an inconvenience unworthy of his time.

By the time they reached the administration wing—tucked at the far end of the sprawling campus like a punishment in itself, Jay was already dragging his feet. The place smelled like polished floors and expensive paper. Too clean. Too suffocating.

The receptionist stood up the second she spotted him, mouth already opening to offer a polite greeting. But Jay walked right past her without so much as eye contact. He didn’t care. Didn’t need the fake pleasantries. And certainly didn’t have the patience for it.

Without knocking, he pushed open the heavy door to the headmaster’s office, letting it swing in with a dull thud against the wall.

Inside, seated like a damn tribunal, were the Headmaster, the Disciplinary Director, and one of the academy’s Legal Advisors.

There was a single, untouched glass of water placed neatly on the desk in front of the empty chair.

Obviously for him.

Jay didn’t sit.

He didn’t even step fully inside yet, standing just past the office with a look of total disinterest.

“If you’re trying to scare me with the full panel,” he said, voice dipped in sarcasm, “you should’ve invited my father. He would’ve appreciated the effort.”

The Legal Advisor raised a brow. The Disciplinary Director narrowed her eyes. The Headmaster just sighed, already bracing for the kind of conversation only Park Jongseong could bring to the table.

“You’ll want to sit, Mr. Park,” the Headmaster offered, gesturing toward the chair.

“I’m good,” Jay replied, tone clipped. “Let’s not pretend we enjoy each other’s company.”

“Suit yourself.” The Headmaster folded his hands over the folder in front of him. “We’re here today because of your recent behavior.”

Jay narrowed his eyes. “You’re gonna have to be more specific. Recent is vague.”

The Headmaster exhaled, already used to the boy’s theatrics.

“You’ve been in four separate altercations this month alone,” he began calmly, lifting a folder and flipping it open.

“Three of which resulted in faculty involvement. One of which resulted in the school clinic being called in. You’ve submitted two assignments this term, both a week late, and there are five courses where your professors have yet to receive even a syllabus outline from you.”

Jay blinked. “And?”

The Disciplinary Director tensed. “Mr. Park, that isn’t—”

“But your council duties,” the Headmaster interrupted, ignoring the tension. “Perfect. Every report on time. Budget reports accurate. Project proposals double-checked. Even your attendance is flawless.”

Jay scoffed quietly. “Because I actually give a shit about that.”

The Headmaster raised a brow but didn’t respond to that. Instead, he closed the folder and folded his hands together.

“No one here is threatening expulsion, Mr. Park. That would be a waste of everyone’s time. You’re not a delinquent. You’re intelligent. Capable. You just lack… consistency.” He paused.

“What you need is someone to keep you level-headed. Someone who’ll remind you that your brilliance doesn’t exempt you from basic responsibility.”

Jay’s eyes narrowed. His posture stiffened slightly. “Don’t tell me you’re assigning me a babysitter.”

“In a sense,” the Headmaster said slowly, reaching for a second file from beneath his desk. “I’ve spoken with your father about this. He’s agreed.”

Jay finally moved. He dropped himself into the empty chair across the desk with a mockingly loud sigh, slouching in the seat like he had nothing to lose.

He leaned forward then, elbows on his knees, tone dripping with fake concern. “So what now? You gonna slap me with another warning? Extra hours in the archives? Gonna pair me with some first-year Omega who’ll sob if I raise my voice?”

He sat back with a grin, fully expecting the usual lecture.

But then the Headmaster slid a new folder across the desk.

And said your name.

“(L/N) (Y/N),” he announced, calm and final. “You’ll be paired with her for one month.”

Jay’s entire body went still.

Gone was the amused posture, the lazy grin, the biting sarcasm—replaced by a cold, simmering silence. His face didn’t just fall; it contorted, the corners of his mouth pulling down into something bordering on disgust, his jaw clenched so tight the muscles ticked.

The glass of water on the desk remained untouched, condensation dripping silently onto the wood.

“You’re kidding,” he said finally, voice low and razor sharp.

The Headmaster merely straightened his papers. “Her academic record is exemplary. No demerits. No late submissions. Excellent conduct and a proven sense of leadership. You both rank highest in your respective year levels.”

“You know your families have been close for generations,” the Headmaster continued. “She’s one of the top students in her year, and her record is—”

“Clean. Of course it is,” Jay snapped, voice low and dangerous now.

The Legal Advisor cleared her throat, flipping open a second folder. “In fact, your records side by side paint quite the contrast.”

She held up the paper, a side-by-side chart. One half filled with distinctions, glowing reviews, recommendations. The other half, Jay’s half, filled with warning slips, missed assignments, and disciplinary notes scribbled in rushed red ink.

Jay just stared, harder and colder than ever before, like he was mentally setting the entire office on fire.

“You excel when you care,” the Headmaster said, voice even. “But you don’t care enough, and that’s the problem. So, for one month, she’ll be tasked with overseeing your academic responsibilities. Any delays or failures in submission will reflect on both of you.”

That made Jay’s brows twitch.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me, you want her to babysit me?” he muttered under his breath.

“She’s not a babysitter,” the Disciplinary Director corrected. “She’s your academic liaison for the month.”

Jay gave a dry laugh. Cold. Humorless. Like someone told him the world was ending and handed him a glitter pen to sign the paperwork.

“She won’t last a week,” he sneered. “She’ll run the moment she realizes I don’t play by honor student rules.”

“You’ll be surprised,” the Headmaster replied simply. “She agreed.”

That made Jay’s smirk falter. You agreed?

Jay leaned back again, arms crossed, and stared them down with a look that could've burned holes through solid steel.

“If you’re top of the class,” the Headmaster said, “it’s time you start acting like it.”

Jay gave a short laugh—dry and humorless as he stood.

He didn’t bother collecting the folder. Didn’t look at the water. Didn’t thank them for their concern.

He just turned, the sneer still tugging at his lips as he opened the door again without a word. His shoulder brushed the frame just enough to make it swing back sharply behind him as he walked out, scent sharp and bitter in his wake.

And the silence that followed was louder than anything he could’ve said.

The scent of sandalwood and tequila spiked in the halls like a warning bell.

Students cleared the way without needing to be told, no one wanted to be collateral damage to whatever mood Park Jongseong was in. His bag was slung over one shoulder carelessly, steps heavy and sharp as he made his way toward the admin wing. Again.

“This better be the last damn time,” he muttered under his breath, jaw tight.

The moment he reached the polished wooden doors, he didn’t knock. With one swift shove, the door swung open and slammed against the inside wall with a loud crack that echoed through the room.

And then he saw you.

Sitting pretty on one of the chairs opposite the Headmaster’s desk, legs crossed at the ankle, back straight, hands folded neatly over your lap.

Jay blinked once, twice.

You didn’t look at him right away. No, of course not. You were too busy conversing with the Headmaster like you weren’t just assigned to be his personal nightmare for the next month.

He scoffed quietly, stepping further in and letting the door close behind him with a solid thunk.

The Headmaster glanced up. “Ah. Mr. Park. Right on time.”

“If this is another lecture, skip it,” Jay said flatly, “I’ve already heard yesterday’s greatest hits.”

The Disciplinary Director looked mildly amused. The Legal Advisor didn’t even blink.

The Headmaster simply gestured toward the chair beside you. “Sit.”

Jay didn’t move. Instead, he looked at you again, finally catching your eyes as you turned toward him with the smallest smile. Innocent. Too innocent. It made his teeth grit.

And he hated that he noticed how good you looked, you always do.

“Park.” The Headmaster’s voice was firm. “Sit.”

Jay sighed through his nose and dragged the chair back with a loud scrape, dropping into it like it offended him to be told what to do. He leaned back, arms crossed, one ankle resting over his knee.

The Headmaster folded his hands. “Now that you’re both here… Let’s discuss the terms of your arrangement. It’s one month. Ms. (L/N) will be overseeing your academic responsibilities alongside your council work. Every submission, every report, every meeting—you two will handle together.”

The Headmaster continued. “Your records are being compared as we speak. While you may be leading your class in terms of final results, Jay, it’s clear you’ve neglected basic academic structure. Submissions late. Skipped consults. Zero communication with your professors.”

Jay sneered. “They get the work, don’t they?”

The Headmaster ignored him. “Ms. (L/N), on the other hand, has an impeccable record.”

Jay laughed. A soft, breathy scoff that held zero amusement.

“Of course she does.” His voice dropped into something darker. “Perfect little (L/N).”

You turned your head toward him slowly, brows raised just slightly. Not enough to argue. Just enough to say try me.

Jay didn’t look away.

“So,” he said, voice dripping sarcasm. “I’m to be micromanaged for the next month by Miss Honors?”

“You’re to be held accountable,” the Headmaster replied, voice stern. “By someone who understands the responsibility your title carries. You're not just a student, Jay. If you're top of your class, it's time you act like it."

Silence.

“Are we understood, Mr. Park?”

Jay didn’t answer.

He stood slowly, the chair scraping back again as he pushed it away, and with one final glare that could’ve shattered glass, he turned on his heel.

And walked out.

You stood the moment the door clicked shut, smoothing the crisp pleats of your uniform and adjusting the bow behind your head. You didn’t need a mirror, you knew everything was in place. It always was. Your image was pristine. Polished. Perfect.

But your patience? Absolutely gone.

The moment they told you who you’d be paired with, something in you snapped like a frayed violin string. Park Jongseong. Park fucking Jongseong.

The bane of your existence since you were little. A pureblooded Alpha with more detentions than he had emotions. The only student who could match your grades and outmatch your blood pressure.

You hated him. Down to your last well-behaved nerve.

But of course, you smiled. Nodded. Bowed your head like the good little Omega everyone expected.

Until you walked out.

Jay was leaning against the wall just outside the office, arms crossed, head tipped back like he was the picture of unbothered royalty. But the moment your heels hit the marble, he lifted his head. His eyes raked over you once, and you didn’t miss the flicker in his gaze, a flash of recognition, followed by instant, irritated regret.

You looked perfect. As always.

Hair pinned into place with your signature ribbon, uniform wrinkle-free and tailored to academy standards, not a single thing out of line. Your heels clicked across the floor with infuriating grace, and your thigh-high socks—dress code approved, of course—drew eyes whether you wanted them to or not.

To Jay, you were the image of a perfect Omega.

Too bad you were a pain in his ass.

You brushed past him without a glance, your lavender perfume lingering in the air like a silent challenge. But Jay’s nose twitched, beneath the floral sweetness was the faint, sterile bite of scent blockers.

His sneer was instant.

And for some reason, that pissed him off more than it should’ve.

“I’m not doing your reports,” Jay muttered after you, voice sharp with disdain.

You stopped and turned on your heel with the calm of someone born to kill with kindness.

“Good,” you bit back, lips curling into something that wasn’t quite a smile. “Because I wouldn’t trust you to spell your own name right on a cover sheet.”

Jay pushed off the wall, stalking forward with that arrogant, deliberate stride. “Keep talking, princess. Maybe if you’re lucky, I’ll forget you’re the one who begged the Headmaster to babysit me.”

Your jaw twitched. “I didn’t beg. I was assigned. Believe me, I’d rather chew glass.”

He stepped into your space, just close enough to make your skin crawl.

“You’d probably find a way to do it politely.”

Your eyes narrowed. “And you’d probably choke on it.”

The tension in the air snapped. His scent spiked, darker, colder.

“Let’s be clear,” you said, voice low. “You don’t scare me. You don’t impress me. And if you think I’m going to fall into line just because you’ve got a title and a family name—”

Jay leaned closer, a breath away from your face.

“You know, Jay, I don’t need you to fall in line. I just need you to keep up.” You laughed once—cold, and walked away, heels echoing like gunshots across the hall.

He watched you go. Jaw clenched. Eyes narrowed. Every inch of his body screamed irritation.

You were going to ruin his life even more than you already did.

It had been a week.

One whole week of walking down hallways like you didn’t want to claw each other's throats out, of sharing study sessions where pens nearly snapped from the pressure of your grip.

And now, here you were. Walking toward the council room, side by side with him.

Whispers followed almost immediately, they were sharp and insistent, bouncing off the marble halls like a chorus of disbelief.

“Are they seriously—”

“No way. They hate each other.”

“Didn’t (Y/N) throw a stapler at him in sophomore year?”

“I swear Jay once said she’d haunt his nightmares.”

You didn’t bat an eye. Jay didn’t, either. But the tension between you both was impossible to miss.

He reached for the heavy wooden doors first, pushing it open with a grunt, shoulders tense as he muttered under his breath, “Get your ass inside.”

You clicked your heels deliberately loud as you stepped in, pausing just long enough to throw him a side glance.

“How chivalrous,” you said, nose tilting upward with a picture-perfect scoff as you walked right past him.

Jay growled behind you, hands tightening at his sides as you strutted into the council room like it was your runway.

You took your usual seat beside Jake’s mate, crossing one leg over the other as you adjusted your skirt like it was second nature.

“There you are!” she gasped, pulling her phone out with a sparkle in her eyes. “Look, they dropped the preview for the new Dior line.”

You leaned in with genuine interest, annoyance dissolving for a moment as you gasped softly. “The saddle bag in navy, is that matte leather?”

“Yes!” she squealed. “But I can’t decide between that or the canvas one.”

“I’d go matte. It’s more timeless. We’re getting matching, right?”

Sunghoon’s mate slid into the conversation with a flawless grin. “I knew you two would be twins again. I’m getting the boots, though.”

Jake’s mate giggled. “We’re just waiting on the others. Where are they?”

You shrugged lightly, not even glancing up from the phone screen. “Saw them heading to the washroom a minute ago.”

As the three of you giggled and gushed over your plans, Jay dropped into his seat across the room with a sigh so heavy it practically echoed.

The chair creaked under him as he sank down, dragging a hand down his face before reaching into his bag to pull out the thick folder of budget reports he’d stayed up half the night organizing.

Sunoo rolled across the room in his chair with Ni-ki right behind him, both of them practically vibrating with the need to be menaces.

“Bro,” Ni-ki grinned, whispering, “we seriously thought you were kidding when you said (Y/N) would be up your ass.”

“She’s not just up there,” Sunoo added with a snort. “She built a house. Probably a pool too.”

Jay didn’t even bother looking at them. “She’s not up my ass. She is the pain in it.”

Despite the chaos, the other boys started to trickle in one by one—Jake, Jungwon, Sunghoon, and Heeseung—each taking note of your presence with quiet glances. They all knew the drill by now: acknowledge you, be polite, and above all… don’t spark anything.

They greeted their mates with soft smiles and casual kisses on the cheek, but when their eyes met yours, they all gave short nods and carefully neutral expressions. Polite, yes. Friendly, sure.

But when Jay was in the room with you, they kept everything restrained, their own mates sometimes exchanging glances that said, not today.

The murmuring died down when Jungwon cleared his throat and looked directly at Jay, motioning toward the front of the table. “Let’s get started,” he said simply. “Jay, you’re up.”

Jay stood with that usual bored elegance, flipping open his laptop and connecting it to the monitor in one smooth motion. The screen flickered to life, revealing a neat layout of monthly budget allocations, proposals, and expense reports.

He scrolled through his slides as he spoke, voice low, crisp, and straight to the point. “Quarterly allocations are being finalized. Clubs requesting additional budget this month include Performing Arts, and Athletics. Most proposals passed the standard review. Here’s the breakdown.”

Bar graphs. Pie charts. More numbers you couldn’t care less about, but you still kept your gaze steady. Even if he was a pain in the ass, Jay knew how to present well. Of course he did. He didn’t get to be top of the class and treasurer of the council without being dangerously capable.

But he wasn’t perfect.

You leaned back in your seat, arms crossed, eyes narrowing ever so slightly when a certain number blinked across the screen. He clicked to the next slide without pause.

You raised your hand.

Jay paused mid-sentence, jaw clenching for half a second before he forced his voice to stay even. “Yes, (L/N)?”

You uncrossed your arms slowly, tapping a manicured nail against your phone screen as you double-checked the file Jungwon had shared earlier. “You listed the Performing Arts’ costume fund under miscellaneous expenses. That’s a flagged violation from last semester’s audit. It’s required to be under equipment to fall within the allowed allocation.”

The room went still.

Even Ni-ki, who had been quietly fidgeting with Sunoo’s pen, stopped. Eyes darted between you and Jay like this was the moment someone’s house would be set on fire.

Jay blinked once. Twice.

He didn’t look at the screen. He didn’t need to.

His lips curled into a frown. “Noted,” he muttered, switching slides.

Still, you turned your eyes back to your phone with the same calmness as before, like correcting him wasn’t something worth breaking a sweat over.

Because it wasn’t, not to you.

The room stayed quiet even after the meeting wrapped up, the final slide lingering on the monitor like it was scared to leave before Jay did.

Jungwon began to close his notes, his mate already standing from her seat on the far end of the table. Without skipping a beat, she turned toward you with a practiced smile and a glint of urgency in her eyes.

“Oh my god,” she whispered, sliding her phone across the table to you, screen lit up with soft pastel colors and a fresh Louis Vuitton collection, “they finally dropped the new ribbon line. I’ve been waiting for this for weeks. You’re going to love this on, it’d look so good with your white blouse and that nude gloss you wore the other day.”

You blinked—just once—before your eyes lit up, your sharp features softening into something more playful as you leaned in. “Wait, that’s the one you mentioned at brunch? I thought they delayed the release?”

Jungwon’s mate grinned, clearly pleased with your reaction, and shot her Alpha a subtle wink as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. Jungwon, who’d been standing by the head of the table with a clipboard in hand, caught the look and smiled faintly

Jay had stayed seated for a beat longer than usual, arms crossed, eyes unreadable. The low buzz of post-meeting chatter picked up as if nothing had happened, but the muscles in his jaw hadn’t quite relaxed.

You were too busy comparing satin tones with the other omega, voice light and sweet, like you hadn’t just called out one of the most feared Alphas in the room mid-meeting.

Then his voice cut through the chatter like a knife. Low, firm, utterly annoyed.

“We need to go. That report for the R&D proposal isn’t going to fix itself.”

He didn’t even spare you a glance, just pushed the door open halfway and walked out like the air in the room wasn’t worth breathing anymore.

The moment it clicked shut behind him, you blinked twice and muttered under your breath, loud enough for the right people to hear, “What an absolute dickhead.”

Heeseung’s mate laughed, hand immediately flying up to her lips, trying and failing to mask her laugh. Sunghoon’s mate nudged her sharply, eyes wide with warning, but even she had her knuckles pressed to her mouth to keep the giggle down.

You, ever the picture of grace, turned back to your girls with a polished smile and the kind of voice used at press conferences.

“Ladies, I’ll see you all tomorrow—don’t forget to reserve our usual table, alright?”

They nodded, still stifling laughter.

You leaned forward, placed polite air kisses on each of their cheeks, then straightened your skirt and flipped your hair over one shoulder with the elegance of someone about to chase after a walking migraine.

Then, with a sharp turn, your smile dropped. You stared down the half-open door like it insulted your entire lineage.

“God give me strength,” you mumbled under your breath, and scowled as you followed the retreating figure of Jay.

The two of you descended from the pristine council wing toward the private university parking lot, which gleamed with rows of high-end luxury vehicles.

Jay walked ahead like the world owed him something, hands tucked into the pockets of his slacks, his white button-up rumpled, the two top few buttons left undone, hair tousled in that deliberately careless way, and his scent…

It had been faint earlier, he was clearly trying to suppress it—but now that you were outside, the sharp, rich scent of sandalwood and tequila started bleeding through.

It lingered in the air, bitter at the edges as his irritation was slipping through in whispers.

“You’re coming over,” Jay said, just loud enough for you to hear.

Your eyes snapped to the back of his head. “Excuse me?”

He didn’t even slow down. “To my house. We’ve got to fix the R&D layouts. I’m not failing just because you’re allergic to being useful.”

You scoffed. “I’ll send my revisions through email. You don’t need me breathing the same air.”

Jay turned his head just slightly, his lips curling into that condescending smirk that made your blood boil. “I already called your dad.”

Your steps halted. “You what?”

“I called him.” He stopped too, finally facing you with the kind of confidence that only someone who knew they were always five moves ahead could have. “He said—and I quote—‘Of course, anything for my favorite son.’”

Your entire body went rigid.

You didn’t reply. You didn’t trust yourself to. But your glare? Sharp enough to slice diamonds.

Jay’s smirk grew. “Aw. Don’t look so hurt.”

You pushed past him, determined to put space between you and his smug little existence, but fate, or something far more dramatic—had other plans.

The moment you spotted your car—your custom pearl-white Porsche Panamera GTS, trimmed in gold accents; your stomach dropped.

Both of your front tires were flat. Completely.

You blinked and looked again, still flat.

“What the actual fuck?”

Jay’s quiet, amused chuckle cut through your spiraling thoughts like a dagger. “Damn. Looks like you’re out of luck, princess.”

You turned toward him slowly. “If you had anything to do with this—”

“I didn’t,” he said immediately, voice too casual. “I don’t have time to sabotage your Barbie car. Besides, why would I? You’re already being forced into my passenger seat.”

He clicked his keys, and his black Ferrari 812 Superfast lit up like a siren call from hell. Powerful and loud, just like him.

You straightened your spine, clenching your jaw. “I could call a driver.”

Jay leaned back against his hood, crossing his arms. “Sure. Call him. He’ll get here in, what, forty minutes? An hour? Long enough for me to finish the whole thing myself and tell your dad you flaked.”

You inhaled deeply through your nose. The bitter twist in his scent was stronger now, like the burn of tequila was stronger. He was annoyed. And suppressing it. He could’ve easily let his Alpha pheromones flood out, scare you off. But he didn’t.

Not because he respected you.

Because he didn’t want to give you the satisfaction of reacting.

“I hate you,” you said, voice dripping with venom.

Jay opened the passenger door like a damn chauffeur. “Get in.”

You stared at him for a moment. The door. The smirk. The scent. The absolute nerve of him.

Then you huffed, stepped forward with the grace of a practiced heiress, and climbed into the car like it offended you to touch it.

Jay slid into the driver’s seat without a word. The engine roared to life.

So did the silence.

So did the tension.

The hum of the Ferrari’s engine was a low, luxurious growl as it sped down the private road, headlights slicing through the evening haze. Inside, the silence was suffocating, except for the occasional click of the turn signal and the quiet sound of leather shifting under your movements.

You sat rigid in the passenger seat, arms crossed over your chest, gaze fixed on the window like you could pretend Jay didn’t exist a foot away.

But unfortunately, he did. In his own school uniform, shirt sleeves rolled just enough to show the veins on his forearms, tie tossed into the backseat, collar unbuttoned like the world bent to him instead of the other way around.

“You’re still handling the KBC merger reports?” he asked eventually, his tone low and clipped.

You didn’t look at him. “Obviously. My dad would have my head if I dropped the ball.”

Jay’s jaw flexed, one hand tightening on the wheel. “Yeah, mine too. Legacy, bloodlines, whatever. Apparently, being born rich means your life isn’t yours.”

You scoffed, brushing invisible lint off your pleated skirt. “At least they’re not trying to marry you off to some desperate heir from a dying charter airline.”

Jay’s head snapped toward you, just for a second. A twitch in his brow. A deeper furrow in his jaw. The kind of tension that wasn’t all anger but wasn’t calm either.

“What?” you muttered, catching the change.

He exhaled through his nose, eyes on the road. “Nothing. It's just stupid.”

The silence came again, colder now.

You tilted your head slightly, voice quieter. “It’s not like I’d ever say yes anyway.”

“Neither would I,” he said quickly, sharper than intended. Then he added, almost to himself, “Even if they tried.”

Another pause.

“Because you’re the golden boy,” you muttered.

Jay let out a humorless laugh. “Golden boys don’t get choices. They just get told who to be and when.”

You finally looked at him, eyes narrowing. “You are such a self-righteous ass.”

“And you’re a know-it-all omega with a god complex.”

Your lips twitched, annoyance blooming into something more twisted. “Still predictable, I see.”

“So are you,” he said, glancing at you sideways. “Still impossible.”

The silence that followed wasn’t calm. It simmered. Buzzed.

Because you weren’t just heirs to multi-billion dollar aviation empires—you were rivals. Old friends turned competitors.

You knew how he tapped his thumb against the steering wheel when he was deep in thought. He knew you always stared out the window when you were trying not to say something you’d regret.

You’d grown up together—vacation homes, shared private jet rides to summit meetings, side-by-side seats at galas and charity auctions. Him: the sharp-tongued pureblooded Alpha with the perfect face and a reputation that couldn’t be touched. You: the picture-perfect omega with a brain that could out-deal most adults in the boardroom.

But somewhere along the way, the teasing soured. The closeness cracked. And now, here you were, two loaded weapons in high-end school uniforms and too much shared history.

Jay pulled up to the gates of the Park estate, and even that was overkill.

Black wrought iron, towering and laced with gold detailing. The Park family crest—two outstretched wings around a crown that was stamped on the gate’s center. Guards in sleek black uniforms stood at attention on either side, already confirming Jay’s identity through biometric scanners built into the intercom posts.

The gates peeled open with a soft mechanical hum, revealing a winding driveway that looked more like a runway. Perfectly sculpted hedges ran along either side, interspersed with glowing path lights and imported pines.

The Park mansion wasn’t just big, it was power incarnate.

Limestone and ivory stone. Classical architecture with steel accents. Towering windows, slate rooftops, and a line of vintage jet turbine sculptures flanking the entry path. A private helipad lay just beyond the side courtyard. The entire estate was surrounded by land: quiet, cold, expensive.

Jay parked neatly at the base of the steps, but instead of grabbing his door first, he moved with quiet precision. You barely had time to touch your seatbelt before he was already out of the car and rounding the front.

You blinked as your door swung open.

Jay stood there, not meeting your eyes. One hand on the door, the other shoved into his pocket. His jaw was locked. His eyes fixed on the trees ahead, not you.

You raised an eyebrow. “Chivalry? From you? Again?”

“I’m not a monster,” he muttered.

You stepped out, ignoring the subtle warmth that hit your cheeks. “Could’ve fooled me.”

He let the door close behind you with a soft click. Then, voice dry and low, he added, “My mother didn’t raise a savage. I know how to handle an omega.”

You turned, fixing your uniform ribbon as you looked him dead in the eye. “Good. Handle yourself first.”

Jay’s lip twitched, whether it was a smirk or a sneer, you weren’t sure—and then he was already walking past you, up the stairs.

The massive front doors of the Park estate opened with a soft click the moment Jay reached them, as if the house itself recognized him.

Marble floors stretched endlessly beyond the threshold, gleaming under the glow of the chandelier above. The foyer was immaculate—pristine white walls, polished gold accents, and fresh lilies arranged delicately in a glass vase near the staircase. The air smelled like jasmine, aged oak, and old money.

Jay stepped in first, face unreadable, his blazer now slung lazily over one shoulder. You followed, brushing invisible dust from your pleated skirt.

Despite the animosity that practically radiated off Jay, he slowed his pace just enough to reach back and open the door for you, eyes flat and uninterested.

“Don’t read into it,” he muttered before you could even say thank you. “My mom didn’t raise a monster.”

“You sure?” you hummed back, voice laced with annoyance.

Before either of you could say more, a warm, familiar voice called from deeper inside the estate.

“Ah! Ms. (Y/N), welcome back!”

You turned to find Mr. Cho, the family’s long-time butler, walking towards you with a small, respectful smile. He took your bag as naturally as if he did this daily. “Shall I prepare your usual tea?”

“That would be lovely, thank you.”

“She doesn’t live here,” Jay muttered.

Mr. Cho remained unfazed. “Of course not, Master Jay. I was merely offering Ms. (Y/N) our hospitality. She always enjoyed the Kyoto chamomile.”

“Still does,” you added with a soft smile.

As Mr. Cho disappeared, a young maid passed by and paused when she saw you. “Ms. (Y/N)! I’ll have the blueberry cheesecake sent to the living room, just like last time.”

You blinked. “You still remember?”

“Of course! You always said it helped you focus during study sessions.”

Jay looked like he was physically restraining himself from exploding. The staff adored you. Genuinely. Fully. And not in the polite, distant way they treated him, but with familiarity. Like they cared.

And unfortunately for Jay, things only got worse.

A pair of footsteps echoed from the top of the spiral stairs. “Jay, darling—”

You turned just as Mrs. Park appeared at the landing. She was elegant in a soft blue silk dress, simple and flowing, sleeves delicately cuffed with pearl buttons. Her makeup was fresh, understated, and her smile lit up the room when she saw you.

“(Y/N)!” she practically sang. “Oh, what a pleasant surprise!”

You bowed your head slightly. “Good evening, Mrs. Park.”

Jay’s shoulders visibly tensed. “Mom.”

His mother didn’t even look at him. She descended the stairs with grace and opened her arms, embracing you warmly. “You’ve gotten even more beautiful. And that uniform on you—still so well-kept! You always take care of yourself.”

You smiled, still polite but not overly so. “You look amazing, ma’am. That dress is beautiful.”

She laughed, lightly patting your cheek. “Oh, this old thing? Thank you, dear. It’s one of my favorites, you like it?”

“I do, actually,” you said, fingers brushing the hem with admiration. “I’ve been looking for something similar. It’s the kind of style I’d wear even outside formal events.”

That made her beam. “You’ve always had taste. You’re so much like me when I was your age.”

Jay nearly gagged.

The conversation flowed naturall. It was as if you belonged in the Park household more than he did. Mrs. Park looped her arm through yours and began walking with you toward the living room.

“You know,” she said with a not-so-subtle glint in her eyes, “you’d make such a wonderful daughter-in-law.”

You choked on air.

Jay stopped walking entirely. “Mom—”

“I mean it! You’re smart, elegant, and you carry yourself so well. Our family just adores you, (Y/N). Don’t we?”

As if summoned, one of the estate's gardeners who’d come in to drop off fresh flowers—paused by the doorway. “Miss (Y/N)? Always so kind. The roses you suggested for the east garden look stunning now.”

You nodded, cheeks heating. “I’m glad they turned out well.”

Jay looked ready to combust. His jaw clenched. His eye twitched.

“She’s not here for dinner,” he reminded sharply. “She’s just here to make sure I don’t flunk some projects.”

You smiled sweetly at the older woman. “A job I take very seriously.”

His mother waved him off with a laugh. “Yes, yes. Academics. But it doesn’t hurt to get to know each other better, hmm?”

You chuckled nervously, but before the topic could spin further into dangerous territory, Jay suddenly called, “(Y/N).”

You glanced over. His tone was flat, but his eyes were sharp. “We should start,” he said.

You cleared your throat, nodding. “Of course.”

You didn’t rush after him. Of course you didn’t. You just turned to Mrs. Park with a polite nod and a small smile, excusing yourself with the grace of someone who had no interest in chasing after a moody boy.

Jay’s footsteps were already fading down the hallway as you began walking like the floor belonged to you too. Head held high. Skirt swaying. If he was going to call you princess, you’d damn well wear the crown.

By the time you stepped into the sitting room, the warm golds of the afternoon had dimmed into bluer hues, early evening creeping in with a hush. The chandelier above glowed brighter now, casting a soft sheen over everything, from the velvet couches to the massive coffee table between you and Jay.

He was already on the floor, back against the couch, legs spread like he owned the room, laptop balanced on one knee. He didn’t look at you when you entered, just clicked his pen and muttered, “Took you long enough.”

You dropped your bag on the opposite side of the table with just enough force to make a point. “I don’t run for anyone. You should know that by now.”

“I forgot,” he replied dryly. “Princesses don’t hurry after all.”

You sat down slowly, folding your legs beneath you with practiced poise, brushing imaginary dust off your skirt before pulling out your notes. “And crownless boys don’t get to comment on royalty.”

Jay looked up at you then, eyebrows arching. “That supposed to hurt?”

“No,” you said sweetly, flipping your folder open, “just a reminder.”

Between you, the oversized coffee table gleamed. A silver tray sat in the center, stacked with delicate desserts and a fresh pot of tea. You reached out carefully, nudging a teacup to the side to make space for your things.

Jay scoffed, eyeing the setup. “Of course she pulled out the royal treatment. Blueberry cheesecake, fresh tea… should’ve just set the dining table while she was at it.”

“She’s being kind,” you replied, tone cool, but your fingers tapped once against the table. “Something you could try once in a while.”

“I’m not fake,” he snapped. “And I don’t kiss ass to people who walk in like they already belong here.”

You looked up at him then, full stare. “You think I’m kissing ass?”

Jay met your eyes without flinching. “I think you’ve got everyone wrapped around your finger.”

You smiled, all teeth and ice. “Maybe that’s because I don’t sulk through life like a kicked puppy, Park.”

He barked a laugh. “You think you’ve got me figured out, huh?”

“No,” you said, pulling your textbook into your lap, “if I did, I wouldn’t waste my time talking to you.”

Jay reached forward without warning, sliding the cheesecake slightly closer to your side.

You blinked. “What, is this a peace offering?”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” he said, not looking at you. “You’re just less annoying when your mouth is full.”

You let out a quiet, sarcastic laugh. “Right. That ego of yours must need hourly feeding too, huh?”

Jay didn’t respond. He didn’t have to.

Because the silence that followed said enough.

It had been quiet. Too quiet.

Three hours in, and the tension that once burned like a wildfire had simmered into something else, maybe it was an unspoken truce, or maybe just mutual exhaustion.

Papers were scattered between you both. The once-pristine coffee table was now a war zone of half-solved equations, scribbled graphs, and open textbooks stacked like makeshift barricades.

The cake was mostly gone, your teacup emptied long ago. Even the silver fork had been abandoned at some point, lazily resting on a napkin with a streak of blueberry at the tip.

Jay was deep into the budget projections for next quarter, fingers tapping steadily against the keyboard of his laptop—when he suddenly paused.

Something felt off.

He frowned.

You usually threw in some sarcastic comment every twenty minutes. A jab at his handwriting. A smug comment about how even your cat could organize files better. A dramatic gasp every time he actually agreed with your suggestions.

Jay glanced sideways, and there you were.

Head resting on your folded arms, body slumped slightly forward. Breathing even. Completely still.

Your hair had slipped over your cheek, and the soft chandelier lighting caught on the curve of your nose, the edge of your lashes, the way your lips were ever so slightly parted in sleep. The rise and fall of your shoulders was slow and steady, peaceful in a way that didn’t match your usual fire. Even the stubborn furrow of your eyebrows had softened.

Jay stared for a second too long.

He narrowed his eyes, like he was trying to find a reason to roll them. But nothing came out of his mouth. No insult. No complaint.

Just a long, sharp sigh.

Because for fuck’s sake, even asleep, you had to look—ethereal. And worst of all? You looked peaceful. Something he hadn't felt in a long, long time.

He set the laptop down on the table with a soft click, leaned back, and rubbed a hand over his face.

"Unbelievable," he muttered under his breath, like it was your fault for being like this.

Then, with ease, Jay reached behind him, tugged his blazer off the couch, and stood. The fabric slid over his shoulder in one swift motion, and without a single dramatic exhale, he walked over to your side of the coffee table.

Each step was careful. Silent. Like the heir of one of the most powerful families in the country hadn’t just decided to play blanket-boy for the rival heiress who haunted his every waking moment.

He paused when he reached you, and watched just a second more.

Then he draped the blazer over your shoulders with slow, precise hands—adjusting it so the collar covered the back of your neck, fingers brushing against your arm for the briefest moment before pulling away.

And right when he was about to back away, you moved.

Jay froze. Held in a breath.

His hand stilled mid-air as your body instinctively curled further into the warmth. One soft nuzzle, and then…

You sighed contentedly.

Right into his blazer.

He stared like you’d just committed a crime.

He finally took a step back—reluctantly—and returned to his seat with a scowl trying to eat his face.

You weren’t supposed to be unguarded, you were supposed to be a brat—his bratty little academic babysitter.

Jay sighed again, loudly this time.

About thirty minutes later, you stirred.

It started slow. A flicker of your lashes. A barely-there shift in your breathing. A little crease between your brows as your body tried to figure out why it felt suspiciously cozy in the middle of an air-conditioned mansion that usually felt like the inside of a freezer.

You blinked, sluggish and dazed, slowly dragging yourself out of sleep. The world was quiet, too quiet. Just the faint hum of the AC, the occasional distant clink of dishware.

But more importantly—you were warm.

Your brain stalled. That… wasn’t right.

You shifted slightly and felt the weight of something thick and heavy draped over your shoulders. Your brows furrowed. And then—you inhaled.

And you knew.

The scent hit you like a truck—clean, sharp cologne, with his scent of cedarwood and tequila, something undeniably Alpha, something that was not yours, and it curled through your lungs like a goddamn curse.

Park Jongseong.

No. No, no, no.

You sat up an inch, heart hammering in your chest as your gaze dropped to the dark blazer now resting over your frame. His blazer. Neatly placed.

“What the f—” You didn’t even finish the curse. You were too busy spiraling.

When did he do this? Why did he do this? Was this a pity move? A trap? Was he trying to prove some twisted point? That he could be thoughtful or soft or human?

God, you hated him.

You hated that your first instinct was to pull it tighter around yourself because the warmth was just that comforting. You hated that it smelled like him, and that it wasn’t disgusting. You hated that your cheeks were warm and you didn’t know if it was the blazer or the mortifying realization that he’d seen you asleep and had the audacity to care.

You glared at it like it personally betrayed you.

You wanted to chuck it across the room, you wanted to march over to him and kick him in the shin with your heels, you wanted to scream and ask him what the hell he thought he was doing being—decent.

But just as you sat up, ready to commit violence, your gaze lifted—Jay was asleep.

Head down on the table the same way you had been minutes ago, lips parted just slightly, one arm bent awkwardly under his head, the other still loosely holding onto the edge of his laptop. His brows, usually furrowed in perpetual annoyance or superiority, were finally relaxed. His sharp jaw was tilted your way, soft in sleep, like even gravity didn’t dare ruin his symmetry.

And for a second—you stared, and God, He was gorgeous.

His dark blonde hair had fallen slightly over his forehead, just messy enough to make your stomach twist in frustration. His eyelashes were too long to be fair, brushing softly against his cheeks. His lips were tinted that stupid natural pink, curved in a way that would be charming if he wasn’t, well, him. His nose—the one you had once insulted out of spite for being too perfect, was somehow even more annoying up close.

The kind of beautiful that was cinematic.

The kind of beautiful that made your blood boil because it was attached to a man you actively fantasized about strangling.

You pressed your fingers to your temple, sighing quietly, mind racing with a war of contradicting thoughts.

You were this close—this close—to standing up and throwing the jacket at his face like a grenade. But your body betrayed you and stayed seated, clutching the fabric instead, heart still hammering.

This couldn’t be happening, he was Park Jongseong.

You groaned softly into your hands, blazer still wrapped around your shoulders like some cursed reminder of your ongoing descent into hell.

You had to leave.

Not because you were done. Not because you had calmed down. But because something about sitting here, wrapped in his blazer, watching him sleep, made you feel like you were standing on the edge of something you didn’t want to name. Something dangerous.

You didn’t do dangerous with Jay.

You did rivalry. Snark. Academic warfare. Arguments with sharp tongues and bitten-back smirks.

Not… this.

So, you moved.

As quietly as you could, you pulled away from the coffee table, the plush rug soft under your heels. You began packing up your things—the papers, the scattered pens, the flash drive you had almost forgotten. You glanced over at Jay once, just to make sure he was still sleeping. He hadn’t moved. Still slumped over the table like he was seconds away from snoring.

Then you reached up, fingers brushing the edge of the blazer still wrapped around your shoulders.

Returning it now would be the decent thing to do.

Which was exactly why you didn’t do it.

If you handed it back now, it would be simple. Done. Over.

But if you left with it? Oh, he’d hate it.

He’d hate that it would come back smelling like your expensive perfume—the one you wore to events just to piss off old men who said women should dress modestly and stay silent.

The one you wore like a weapon. Sweet, intoxicating, with a cold bite underneath. A perfect contrast to your scent-blockers, which left your natural scent unreadable by anyone—even him.

So yes, you were going to bring the blazer home.

Dry clean it? Of course. You weren’t a monster.

Smiling faintly, you folded the blazer over your arm and reached into your tote bag for a notepad. You scribbled something quickly, your handwriting elegant and infuriatingly neat.

You placed the note where his laptop used to be and glanced at him one last time. He was still dead asleep. You rolled your eyes.

“Of course you sleep like a rock when I actually have something to say,” you muttered under your breath.

With that, you turned on your heel and left the room.

You made your way through the quiet mansion, heels ticking softly against the polished floor, the gentle hum of the chandelier casting warm light over the entrance hall. The foyer was peaceful, bathed in a mellow amber glow that clung to the air like honey.

Jay’s mother sat near the base of the staircase, a tablet resting on her lap, glasses perched delicately on her nose. She looked up when she heard you, her expression instantly brightening.

“Oh, you’re leaving?” she asked, her voice soft but touched with disappointment.

You nodded politely, shifting the bag on your shoulder. “Yes, ma’am. It’s gotten pretty late, and I didn’t want to wake Jay. He looked… like he needed the sleep.”

She smiled knowingly. “He always overworks himself. But I was hoping you might stay a little longer.”

You blinked, a little surprised. “Really?”

“Of course.” She stood, placing the tablet aside and walking over to you, her lips curled slightly. “Your banter kept the house interesting today.”

You chuckled, genuinely this time. “I’m sure Jay would say otherwise.”

She reached out and gently pulled you into a light hug, arms warm and motherly around your shoulders. You stiffened for half a second, caught off-guard… and then relaxed. It was nice. Disarming. Familiar in a way that scraped against the icy corners you usually kept up.

You pulled back with a soft, genuine smile. “Thank you. For the tea. And the cake.”

She laughed lightly. “Come by again. Preferably when he’s less cranky.”

You grinned at that, nodding once. “No promises.” Then, ou stepped out into the evening.

Your driver opened the car door as you approached, holding it just long enough for you to slide in without needing to break stride. As you settled in, you kept Jay’s blazer folded neatly on your lap, fingers idly running over the fabric.

The car pulled away from the estate, disappearing into the night.

Back in the living room, Jay stirred.

His head ached in the weird, groggy way it always did after falling asleep at a desk. He sat up slowly, blinking at the dimmed lights and the stretch of silence around him.

Something felt off.

His eyes scanned the room. The papers had been tidied. Your bag was gone. And so was his blazer.

Then—he spotted the note.

Right where his laptop had been, placed delicately like a landmine dressed in silk.

He picked it up, already exhaling like he was bracing for a slap.

thanks for your stinky blazer, shit head. returning it ASAP. don’t miss me. — (l/n)

His jaw ticked.

“Stinky—are you fucking serious—”

He stopped, the words were ridiculous. Petty. Absolutely you. The handwriting? Annoyingly perfect. Not a single letter out of place.

Jay scowled, letting the paper crumple slightly in his hand.

But then, his scowl faltered.

It softened, not into anything gentle, but into a low, frustrated frown. The kind that twisted deep between his brows and lingered. He leaned back in his seat, note still in hand, blazer gone, and a sudden, unwanted awareness in his chest.

You’d worn his blazer. And you’d taken it with you.

His eyes slid to the spot where you’d been curled up not even an hour ago.

And then they narrowed.

“This is ridiculous,” he muttered under his breath.

He stared at the note for another few seconds.

And then he folded it. Neatly. Slid it under his laptop.

He’d burn it later. Maybe.

Jay was spiraling.

Which was ridiculous, really, because Park Jongseong did not spiral. He was composed. In control. Cool, collected, cold even, especially when it came to you.

But as he stepped out of his sleek black car, designer shoes clicking against the pavement of the academy’s private parking lot, his jaw clenched. His usually sharp mind was fogged up with one thing and one thing only: you still had his blazer.

His personal, custom-fit, dry-clean-only, still-drenched-in-his-scent blazer.

And not just handed to you. No. He had fucking placed it over your shoulders like some old-school, gentlemanly, possessive courting maneuver from a textbook.

Which, in Alpha society, it kind of was.

His inner Alpha had been screaming about it since the moment he stepped out of the shower that morning. The memory hit him like a train—the sight of you curled up, breathing evenly, his blazer slipping slightly down your arm as you unconsciously pulled it closer. His scent wrapped around you.

He stopped walking. Just for a second. Just enough for his eyes to flutter shut and for him to mutter under his breath, “Shit.”

Then he straightened his back, squared his shoulders, and shoved the panic down where he shoved everything else he didn’t want to deal with. You probably still had i. Or worse, you were going to return it drenched in your expensive perfume, just to rub salt in the wound.

His hate for you burned hotter.

By the time he reached the student council wing, his expression was blank again. He adjusted the strap of his bag, reached for the door to the council room—and paused.

There were voices inside. Heated ones.

He slowly pushed one of the double wooden doors open only to be met by the searing glare of Jake’s mate.

Usually the quiet one. Reserved. Soft-spoken. But right now? Absolutely fuming.

She was already standing, arms crossed so tight it looked painful, expression twisted in something close to betrayal under the soft chandelier light.

“Jay, I thought you hated (Y/N)?”

Jay blinked. “I do.”

“Then why the actual fuck would you give her your blazer?!”

He opened his mouth to speak. Then shut it.

She stormed a few steps closer, each one heavier with rage.

“That’s a courting gesture, you moron! That’s like waving a giant flag in Alpha society! Do you not think before you act? Or did your brain short-circuit the moment she looked remotely human to you?”

Jake, from behind her, threw his hands up like a hostage. “Nope. Not getting in the middle of this. She’s gonna kill me, man. Don’t even look at me.”

Jay stared at him. “Get your girl.”

Jake shook his head even faster. “Hell no.”

“You do realize stepping into an omega’s wrath is like signing a death warrant, right?” Heeseung added lazily from the couch, sipping his coffee with a smirk. “Might as well start drafting your will.”

Jungwon didn’t say anything, but he shared a look with Heeseung that said it all.

Jay dragged a hand down his face and sighed heavily, the ache behind his temples pulsing stronger with each passing second. “This is all your fault,” he muttered.

Jake’s mate’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “My fault?”

Jay gestured vaguely toward the air, the universe, toward you—wherever the hell you were. “Yes. Yours. Hers. Everyone’s.”

She looked ready to lunge at him.

Jay turned on his heel and strode right back out of the room, tossing over his shoulder, “Unbelievable.”

The door thudded shut behind him, muffling the noise.

The afternoon sun poured in from the floor-to-ceiling windows, catching in the glossy floors as you walked side-by-side with Heeseung’s mate, laughing about something stupid from earlier that morning.

“Seriously though,” she giggled, bumping her shoulder lightly against yours, “you and that old history teacher— I thought he was gonna combust when you corrected him in front of the whole class.”

You laughed, bright and easy, flipping your hair over your shoulder. “Not my fault I actually read the assigned chapters.”

She snorted, tossing you a fond look. “You’re dangerous.”

You grinned back. “Tell that to Park. He still thinks I’m a walking plague.”

Unknowingly, you and Heeseung’s mate stole every pair of eyes in the hall.

Heads turned. Conversations faltered mid-sentence. It was impossible not to notice the two of you—two Omegas, looking every bit the part, effortless and untouchable, with unreal beauty and an almost unfair kind of perfection. Every step you took seemed to hum with power, the kind that made even passing Alphas stop in their tracks just to get another look.

Jay caught sight of you just as he rounded the corner, heading lazily toward the vending machines.

He told himself to keep walking. To pretend he hadn’t seen you.

But the second Heeseung’s mate chirped something about using the bathroom and peeled off with a wave, leaving you alone—he moved.

In three long strides, he was in front of you. You barely had time to blink before his fingers wrapped tightly around your wrist.

“Hey!” you protested, yanking instinctively, but his grip was iron, burning against your skin.

“What the hell, Park—”

“Shut up,” he hissed under his breath, casting a quick glance down the hall where classroom doors remained closed and the faint sound of teachers’ voices carried through the cracks. Without waiting, he dragged you with him, your heels skidding against the marble as you struggled to dig your heels in.

“Let me go!” you seethed, twisting in his grasp. “You’re insane—!”

Jay didn't spare you even a look. He hauled you to the very end of the corridor, shoving you back behind one of the thick stone pillars that lined the old architecture of the school.

You stumbled, slamming into the cold stone, only to find Jay caging you in, one hand pressed hard against the pillar beside your head, the other still wrapped tight around your wrist.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” you snapped, glaring up at him.

Jay’s eyes were burning—not with heat, but with something more violent. Dark, furious. Dangerous.

“Where is it?” he demanded.

You blinked. “Where’s what?”

“My blazer,” he gritted out. His gaze flickered down your figure, eyes narrowing when he saw the clean navy blue blazeryou were wearing —your own—instead of the one he had forced on you last night. His jaw tensed so hard it could’ve been carved from stone.

A laugh tore out of your throat.

“Ohhh,” you drawled mockingly. “That.” You leaned back against the pillar, smirking up at him. “I left it in the council room hours ago.”

“You’d know that if you actually showed up for your own responsibilities instead of lurking around like a damn creep,” you said sweetly, dripping venom with every word.

Something flickered dangerously in his gaze. His hand slammed harder against the stone, right by your ear, but you didn’t even flinch.

If anything, you pushed closer, close enough to catch the faintest trace of his scent still clinging to your skin, stubborn even after all these hours.

“You’re unbelievable,” Jay muttered, his voice low and rough.

“Right back at you, Park,” you sneered. “Next time you want to play knight in shining armor, pick someone who actually wants your damn jacket.”

Jay’s breathing was harsh, every muscle in his body visibly tense. “You think you know everything, don't you?" he bit out.

“I know enough,” you shot back. “I know you hate me. And guess what, Park? I hate you more.”

The tension between you two was electric, suffocating, so thick you could practically taste the anger rolling off him in waves. Your heart hammered in your chest—not from fear, but from the pure adrenaline of it all.

His gaze dropped to your lips for the briefest, most dangerous second.

No. He wouldn’t. He wouldn’t dare.

Finally, with a furious, muttered curse under his breath, Jay ripped himself away from you like you physically burned him, storming down the hall without another word.

You stayed leaning against the pillar for a second longer, catching your breath, a small, wicked smirk curling on your lips.

Without hesitation, you pushed yourself off the cold stone with a deep breath, smoothing down your skirt like it could fix the way your blood was still rushing hot under your skin.

You turned the corner—and there she was, Heeseung’s mate leaning casually against the wall, waiting exactly where she said she would.

She didn’t say a word when her eyes landed on you. Just smiled softly and reached out, fingers deft as she adjusted the ribbon tied at the back of your head.

“You okay?” she asked, her voice light but her gaze a little too knowing.

You just smiled, slow and sweet, like you weren’t still shaking a little on the inside. “Perfect,” you lied easily, eyes twinkling with mischief.

She narrowed her eyes, clearly not believing you for a second, but said nothing else. Only slipped her arm through yours again, guiding you both back down the hallway toward your next class.

The council room was packed.

The long conference table overflowed with council members and their mates—Heeseung and his omega tucked close together at one end, Jungwon whispering something that made his mate giggle, Jake and his tossing casual grins across the table, Sunghoon lounging like a king with his arm slung behind his omega's chair.

Even Sunoo’s mate was there, perched elegantly beside you.

The air was thick with bodies, with heat, with the buzzing undercurrent of alphas, betas, and omegas crowding too close.

But you only saw one person. Jay.

You sat poised, the sharp line of your jaw held high, your nails—perfectly manicured, painted a sleek, mocking black; tapping against the folder in front of you.

You stared at him like you could set him on fire.

And Jay—that cocky bastard, barely spared you a glance.

Sunoo’s mate leaned toward you, voice soft. “Hey, Y/n. After this, can you help me with the decorations list—?”

“Of course,” you answered smoothly, your tone light and sweet, but your eyes never once left Jay.

You watched as he lazily flipped a page, jaw ticking ever so slightly.

He knew you caught the mistake in the proposal you worked on together, the one he touched last without telling you.

You could practically feel the smugness radiating off him, like he thought it wasn’t a big deal.

It was a big deal. And you wanted to gut him for it.

Jungwon’s voice rang loud and clear from the head of the table, “Meeting adjourned.”

Chairs screeched against the marble floor instantly, papers shuffled, and the whole council meeting room turned into a buzzing hive of motion and noise as everyone started packing up.

And just when it should’ve ended neatly—

Jay pushed off his chair with a lazy, almost predatory grace. Slamming his palm hard enough against the table that several people jumped, including you, though you masked it behind a lazy blink.

Heads whipped towards him.

Jay just smiled—that slow, confident, devastating smile that made you want to slap it off his face with your perfectly manicured hand.

“Party at my place tomorrow night,” he announced, voice booming across the council room like thunder.

“Bring everyone. Seniors, juniors—hell, bring half the damn school if you want. I want it packed.”

A collective gasp, then a loud eruption of cheers and whistles filled the air.

Someone from the Public Relations Committee actually banged a fist on the table in excitement. Another kid from Jungwon’s group whooped so loudly, it startled Heeseung.

Jake whistled low and threw an arm around his mate’s shoulders, grinning wide. Ni-ki immediately started planning out a playlist with two of the juniors trailing behind him like excited puppies.

Sunoo’s mate leaned in to whisper something excitedly into your ear about outfits—but your eyes stayed locked only on Jay. You barely heard anything over the roaring in your blood.

Jay wasn’t looking at anyone else. He was looking straight at you, one brow cocked high like a fucking challenge, daring you to say something.

The way he stood there, hands in his pockets, broad shoulders soaking up every ounce of attention in the room like he owned it—like he owned you.

You felt your jaw clench so tight your teeth ached.

Jay’s smirk grew wider.

He was baiting you, he wanted you angry, he thrived off it.

You lifted your chin higher, giving him a lazy, mocking once-over, from his disheveled tie down to the way his expensive shoes tapped against the marble floor like he couldn't stand still.

Jay’s smile faltered for half a second.

Sunoo’s mate nudged you, beaming. “What are you wearing to the party?”

Without tearing your glare away from Jay, you answered smoothly, “Whatever works.” Your voice was sweet as syrup but your eyes spat venom across the room at the boy you hated most.

Jay’s tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip, a slow, dangerous movement that made your stomach twist—in rage.

He tilted his head at you, smirking wider, like he was thinking the exact same thing.

The room swirled with laughter and plans and wild energy, but right then, it felt like only you and him existed.

Two storms waiting to crash into each other.

And when he finally tore his gaze away to clap Jungwon on the back and bark out something about making it the best party of the year.

You were left standing there, fuming, heart racing, hands trembling slightly from the effort it took to keep yourself composed.

The war had just begun.

And Jay had just thrown the first grenade.

⤷ read part 2 here !

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© 2025 liuhsng — reblogs are highly appreciated and please don’t hesitate to request some fics here if you want me to write anything !

[liuhsng]

✩ˎˊ˗ no-fly zone ( pjs ! ) — part 2

✩ˎˊ˗ part of the untouchable series | enhypen masterlist

⤷ pairing — jay x fem!reader

⤷ part 1 | part 2 ⤷ word count — 19.1k ⤷ taglist for the series — open !

⤷ warning/s — smut (minors dni), unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), p in v, a/b/o au, alpha!jay, omega!reader, fem!reader, foul language, enemies to lovers trope, forced proximity, mentions of drinking and alcohol, lots of sexual tension, possessive!alpha jay, desperate!jay, dirty talk, overstimulation-ish, post-sex vulnerability, aftercare, mentions of the other parts from this series, not proofread

✩ˎˊ˗ summary — the line between rivalry and desire was already thin. it only took one night to shatter it completely. what started as another tense argument—sharp words, stormy eyes, too much tension—ended in something neither of you were ready for: hands on skin, lips on lips, and all the anger melting into something far more dangerous. park jongseong was supposed to hate you. you were supposed to keep your distance. but now you’re in his bed, your scent on his skin, and the worst part? he doesn’t want to leave. and neither do you.

The night air wrapped around you like silk, cool and crisp, carrying the soft scent of the manicured gardens surrounding your family's sprawling estate.

You stood there at the top of the marble steps, the soft click of your heels echoing faintly as you shifted your weight, arms crossed loosely over your chest, the impatient glint in your eyes betraying your excitement.

Then the deep purr of a luxury engine broke the night’s calm, headlights slicing through the darkness like knives.

You straightened, heart skipping a beat when a stretch Rolls-Royce limo pulled smoothly into the circular driveway, tires crunching softly against the gravel.

A small, amused laugh bubbled out of you, completely unfiltered, as the sheer absurdity of it hit you.

The driver, wearing a crisp black suit and cap, stepped out swiftly and bowed a little as he opened the door.

The second the heavy door swung outward, a wave of noise, laughter, and expensive perfume spilled out, and you didn’t even have a chance to react before Heeseung’s mate shrieked—

“There she is! Get in, get in!”

You were yanked into the limo with a strength that made you stumble forward, your laughter filling the plush interior.

Arms wrapped around you, kisses were pressed to your cheeks, and a dozen perfectly manicured hands flitted over your shoulders, your hair, your waist—admiring, fixing, fawning.

The girls looked at you like you hung the stars.

“She’s illegal!” Jungwon’s mate wailed dramatically, clutching her heart.

Jake’s mate reached for your waist, turning you around slightly to get the full view. “I hate you. You’re disgusting. How are you real?”

"You’re basically Chanel’s wet dream," Sunghoon’s mate added, fanning herself dramatically with a hand.

You couldn’t help it, your smile stretched wide and mischievous as you smoothed your hands down the sleek, impossibly expensive fabric of your fitted black dress.

It clung to you like a second skin, the slit on the side teasing glimpses of your legs with every slight movement, while the pearlescent choker around your throat gleamed.

"Is it too much?" you asked, tilting your head, voice dripping with faux-innocence.

“Too much?!” Sunoo’s mate let out a noise of pure disbelief, practically throwing her clutch down on the seat. "Girl, you’re going to cause deaths."

The limo began to glide forward, the city lights outside a smear of golds and blues against the windows.

Jake’s mate leaned forward, the grin on her face wicked. “I cannot wait to see Jay's face when you walk in looking like this."

Instantly, you let out a loud groan, flopping back against the leather seat, the expensive material cool against your bare skin.

"Ugh. I hate him," you deadpanned, venom thick in your voice.

The girls burst into a chorus of soft laughter and very obvious glances between each other.

“Sure you do,” Jungwon’s mate said under her breath, smirking like she knew something you didn’t.

Sunghoon’s mate leaned closer, her eyes glinting with teasing. “Totally believable, babe.”

You lifted your chin with a little sniff, grabbing Heeseung’s mate’s champagne flute and taking a sip without asking, smoothing your perfectly manicured nails down your dress with slow, deliberate motions.

“He’s an arrogant, infuriating, self-absorbed bastard. Nothing to like.” Your words were sharp, meant to cut, but your heart betrayed you, thudding a little too fast in your chest.

The girls just laughed again, louder this time, the noise bouncing off the sleek interior of the limo.

The second Heeseung’s mate dragged you through the massive front doors, the girls giggling and squealing behind you, the party slammed into your senses all at once.

The mansion was alive.

Music thundered from unseen speakers, bass pounding against the floors, lights flashing in dizzy, chaotic bursts. The thick, humid air reeked of alcohol, cigarette smoke, and dozens of clashing scents—alphas, betas, omegas, all packed into one heaving mass of bodies, grinding against each other on the dance floor or yelling over the noise.

You clung tighter to Heeseung’s mate’s arm, feeling your heart hammering against your ribs. “Remind me why I agreed to this?” you half-shouted over the music.

She just laughed, tossing you a wicked grin. “Because you love the drama!”

You barely had time to answer before you spotted them.

There, in the farthest corner of the living room, seven pureblooded Alphas stood.

A sight so commanding that even the wildest partygoers kept their distance. They didn’t have to move, didn’t have to speak—their presence alone was a warning. Even through the haze of bodies and lights, they stood untouched, untouchable.

Jungwon stood tall and sharp-eyed, scanning the room like he owned it, while Heeseung looked effortless, sipping casually from a drink, his smirk lazy but unreadable. Jake leaned against the wall, charming and easygoing on the surface but calculated underneath, while Ni-ki whispered something to Sunghoon, both of them laughing low and dangerous. Sunoo, perched slightly away from the rest, looked deceptively angelic, his sharp eyes catching every movement without even trying.

And Jay.

Jay, who had an arm draped over the back of the leather couch, the amber of his bourbon catching the light, looking every bit like he was born to rule. He didn’t laugh like the others; he barely spoke. He simply watched—until you walked in.

The moment you stepped inside, his entire focus zeroed in on you like a predator. His posture stiffened, drink forgotten in his hand, lips pressed into a hard, thin line. You could feel the weight of his stare dragging over your body.

While the boys immediately softened at the sight of their mates—smirks turning into real smiles, arms opening to pull them close—you clung to Heeseung’s mate, half-hiding behind her. Your heart hammered against your ribs as you forced yourself to look anywhere but at him.

You could feel it, the burn of Jay’s eyes following every movement, every breath, every fake laugh you let out.

“You’re playing a dangerous game,"” Sunghoon’s mate sing-songed in your ear, catching the way Jay's hand twitched again as you laughed with her.

“I'm not playing anything,” you said smoothly, reaching up to fix your earring with a practiced air of nonchalance, even though your heart was pounding so hard you were worried it might crack your ribs.

You were about to deny everything, pretend you didn’t care—

Except you could feel him moving closer. Every cell in your body screamed at his approach, and when you glanced up, there he was, cutting through the crowd like it didn’t exist.

Jay didn’t say a word. He simply shrugged off his black Prada blazer—sleek, tailored, screaming Park Jongseong—and dropped it over your shoulders with a scowl. The rich scent of his cologne laced with his scent of sandalwood and tequila wrapped around you.

Before you could even form a reaction, he turned on his heel and stormed off toward the kitchen, his drink dangerously low.

The group noticed. Conversations faltered mid-sentence, greetings paused, and suddenly every single pair of eyes was on you.

Heeseung’s mate was the first to catch herself, hiding a smug grin behind her hand, while Jungwon’s mate outright smirked, nudging you in the side with her elbow.

You stayed frozen for a second longer, clutching Jay’s expensive Prada blazer tighter around your shoulders. Your heart slammed against your ribs, the weight of their knowing stares only making it worse.

Jungwon’s mate leaned in, voice low and teasing near your ear. “Well? Go after him, stupid,” she whispered, giving you a not-so-subtle push toward the kitchen.

And without even thinking, you followed.

It didn’t surprise you to find a not-so-mini bar tucked into the far corner of the house—of course Jay would have something like this. He was already behind it, refilling his bourbon, moving with an easy, practiced grace. The dim light hit his profile perfectly, jaw sharp, brow furrowed, mouth pulled into a grim line.

You slid into one of the high stools, arms crossing over your chest beneath his jacket. The fabric was too big for you, swallowing you whole, but you didn’t shrug it off.

You didn’t even know why you were here. Anger didn’t pulse through you like before, only confusion. Confusion and the dull ache of something you couldn’t name sitting heavy on your chest.

Jay didn’t say anything at first. He grabbed a glass, poured something pink and fizzy into it, added ice with an efficient clink, then slid it toward you across the bar top without looking up.

You stared at it. Pink lemonade cocktail.

You cocked an eyebrow, arms still folded tightly. “Seriously?”

Finally, he lifted his eyes, pinning you with that same, familiar look that always made your mouth dry up. “Isn’t this your favorite?” he asked, voice low, almost like he hated admitting he knew that.

You blinked. Your mouth opened and closed, no words forming as a small, confused pout curled your lips. Hesitantly, you reached for the drink, your fingers brushing the cool glass. You nodded slowly, the tiniest, barely-there movement.

Wordlessly, you took a sip. The sweetness burst across your tongue, familiar and jarring all at once.

Jay watched you like he was trying to solve a puzzle he didn’t even want to admit he cared about. His hands flexed against the bar top, the veins in his arms standing out with the effort it took to stay casual.

You didn’t understand it. Any of it. Not the blazer. Not the drink. Not the way his stormy eyes lingered on your face like he was memorizing you.

But somehow, you didn’t pull away.

Jay set his glass down with a sharp clink, pulling his gaze away first, like it physically pained him to do it.

“I need another refill,” he muttered, voice rough, already stepping around the counter without waiting for you to say anything.

You blinked, staring after him like he had just grown two heads.

The leather of the stool creaked under you when you shifted, trying to wrap your head around the past five minutes. You slowly dragged your eyes to the wall of alcohol behind the counter—bottles of whiskey, gin, rare aged bourbons lined up like some kind of shrine, and for a moment, you just… sat there.

Thinking.

Where the hell did the Jay who used to hate you with a burning passion go?

Where was the Jay who would snap at you during business dinners, whose eyes would ice over whenever you so much as breathed in his direction?

Your lips pressed into a tight line. You were so deep in your spiraling thoughts that you didn't even notice the figure who approached until a shadow loomed over you.

“Hey there, gorgeous,” a voice crooned, low and dripping with confidence.

You blinked up, startled, into the face of Minjun—an Alpha from a prominent family. Older, ridiculously handsome, and apparently, very unaware of the dangerous ground he was treading.

“Didn’t think someone like you would be sitting here all alone,” he grinned, sliding into the stool next to you, his scent immediately clouding the air, rich and heady and far too much.

You smiled politely, schooling your face into something neutral because the last thing you needed was to cause a scene at Jay’s party.

“I’m just waiting for someone,” you said lightly, your fingers fiddling with the straw of your pink cocktail.

“Oh?” Minjun leaned in closer, clearly misinterpreting your politeness for an invitation. “Well, whoever it is, he’s an idiot for leaving someone like you sitting here. You deserve better, sweetheart.”

You opened your mouth to reply, but you didn’t get the chance.

A loud thud crashed onto the counter beside you, making you jump in your seat.

Jay stood there, a handful of new bottles clutched in one arm, the other hand braced hard on the marble, muscles straining under his sleeves. His stormy gaze burned into Minjun with a fury that could’ve leveled buildings.

“Move,” Jay snapped, voice low, dangerous.

Minjun blinked, confused, trying to play it off with a chuckle. “Relax, man. We’re just talking—”

“She’s not available.” Jay’s voice cracked like a whip across the air, sharp and venomous. His eyes never once left Minjun’s face, full of a warning so clear even the drunkest alpha would have sobered up instantly.

You froze, heart hammering against your ribs.

Minjun raised his hands in mock surrender, throwing you a half-smirk before sliding off the stool and retreating into the crowd without another word.

The second he was gone, Jay rounded on you—storming so close that you had to tilt your head up just to meet his glare.

Before you could process it, his hand clamped around your wrist, not painfully, but firm enough to leave no room for argument.

“Come with me,” he gritted out, already pulling you off the stool.

“Jay—what the hell—” you hissed, stumbling after him as he cut through the crowd, dragging you behind him like you weighed nothing.

Heads turned. You could feel the stares. The music pounded in your skull, but none of it registered—not the flashing lights, not the sea of bodies; only Jay, only his bruising grip and the boiling fury rolling off him in waves.

He didn’t stop until he shoved open a door down the hall, revealing a sleek, dimly lit guest bedroom, and practically tossed you inside before slamming the door shut behind him.

Jay stalked toward you like he wanted to tear you apart, his chest heaving, his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. You barely had time to turn around before he cornered you, his hand slamming into the wall beside your head with a loud thud, making you flinch.

“What the fuck were you doing, smiling at him like that?” he seethed, his voice rough, raw, almost shaking with the force of how hard he was holding himself back.

You glared up at him, your own anger finally snapping free.

“He was just being nice!” you snapped, shoving at his chest uselessly. He didn’t move an inch. He just pressed closer, his body heat swallowing you whole.

Jay let out a bitter, humorless laugh, his head tilting as he stared down at you like he hated the sight of you. “Nice? You think that’s what he wanted? You’re fucking clueless.”

“Why do you even care, Jay?!” Your voice cracked as it rose, sharp and broken, and you hated it—hated how much he could pull emotion out of you like it was the easiest thing in the world.

“Stop acting like you don’t fucking know,” he spat, his other hand curling into a fist at his side.

You shook your head, tears blurring your vision but you refused to let them fall yet.

“Stop acting like you care!” you fired back, your chest heaving.

He slammed his other hand into the wall on the other side of your head, the sound loud and violent, and you flinched, heart rattling against your ribs.

“You think I don’t care?” he hissed. “You think it’s easy for me?”

You swallowed hard, glaring up at him through your tears. “You hate me.”

“I fucking hate you,” Jay snarled back instantly, the words punching the air between you.

Your throat tightened painfully, but you forced the words out. “Good. Because I hate you too.”

The tension cracked—raw, ugly, alive.

Jay’s chest brushed yours with every shallow, angry breath he took. His hands were trembling where they caged you in, like it was taking everything he had not to tear the world apart.

He ducked his head lower, forehead almost brushing yours, his voice rough and raw.

“I hate the way you make me feel,” he said, almost like a confession, his teeth gritted. “I hate that you fucking get to me. That you make me feel like some—some fucking lowlife who can’t even think straight when you’re around.”

You blinked at him, breath catching, chest aching with how messy this was.

Jay laughed again, broken, “I hate that you make me want things I’m not supposed to want.”

You sucked in a shaky breath, your voice barely a whisper.

“Where do we even stand, Jay?”

He stared at you—through you—like he was trying to find the answer too. His hands finally dropped from the wall, only to grab your wrists, tight enough to make you gasp, but not enough to hurt.

“I don’t know,” he said hoarsely. “I don’t fucking know.”

The tears finally slipped free. You hated yourself for it. Hated that he was the only one who could break you like this.

Jay’s face twisted, something almost like regret flashing in his eyes, but it was gone too fast, swallowed by the anger again.

“You drive me insane,” he bit out, shaking his head like he couldn’t believe he was even standing here, having this conversation. “You ruin me.”

“You ruin me too,” you whispered back, voice breaking completely.

He stared at you like you’d ripped the ground out from under him. Neither of you moved. Neither of you could.

It was war. It was heartbreak. It was home.

And neither of you knew how to fix it.

Not when your hands were still shaking, when your breaths were still shallow, when your hearts were still trying to tear themselves free from your ribs just from being this close.

Not when the hate had always been a mask for something neither of you were brave enough to admit.

Jay's eyes dropped to your lips, so fast, so instinctive, like he didn’t even mean to—and you felt your breath hitch, a violent, helpless thing.

Your hands flexed against his hold, not to pull away—no—but to feel. To ground yourself in the heat of his skin.

He let out a low, almost broken curse, and the next thing you knew, Jay surged forward, crashing his mouth against yours.

It wasn’t gentle, it wasn’t soft, it was messy. Brutal. Desperate.

You gasped against him, your back slamming into the wall as his body pressed into yours, holding you there like he needed to anchor himself or else he’d fly apart. His hands let go of your wrists only to grab your face, rough and trembling, thumbs digging into your jaw as he tilted your head back to kiss you harder.

You should’ve pushed him away. You should’ve fought. But all you could do was clutch at the front of his shirt, fingers twisting into the expensive fabric like it was the only thing keeping you standing.

Jay kissed like he hated you. Like he needed to conquer you. Like he needed to brand you with his mouth and teeth and everything he’d been trying so hard to bury.

Your teeth clashed. Your noses bumped. It was messy and imperfect and real in a way that made your chest ache.

You whimpered against him, your knees buckling slightly, and Jay groaned low in his throat—a sound so guttural and desperate it made your head spin—before one of his arms dropped to wrap around your waist, hauling you even closer until there wasn’t a single inch of space between you.

He tasted like bourbon and rage and something heartbreakingly familiar.

He pulled back just barely, breathing hard against your lips, his forehead dropping against yours as you both struggled for air.

“Fuck,” he whispered, voice wrecked, almost like he was mad at himself. “Fuck, what are you doing to me?”

You shook your head, tears still clinging to your lashes, your heart slamming so hard against your ribs it hurt.

“You started this,” you breathed, voice small and shaky.

Jay let out a strangled sound, his hands fisting the back of your dress like he could physically keep you from slipping away.

“I’m so fucking tired of pretending,” he rasped, his words ghosting over your skin, raw and broken and bare.

You stared up at him, your throat tight, your body aching with confusion and want and a thousand other things you didn’t even have names for.

“I hate you,” you whispered again, but this time… it sounded like a plea. Like a lie. Like the saddest truth.

Jay laughed, short and sharp and bitter, and then he kissed you again, harder, rougher, angrier—like he was trying to burn the hatred out of both of you. Like he needed to punish you for existing and save you at the same time.

You clutched at him, nails scraping his chest through his shirt, desperate for something solid, something real. He growled against your mouth, and the sound lit a fire low in your stomach that scared you with how much you craved it.

You grabbed fistfuls of his shirt, pulling him even closer, practically clawing at him, needing more, needing everything.

His knee shoved between your legs, pressing against you, and you whimpered against his mouth, the sound broken and raw.

Jay ripped his mouth away, both of you panting like you were drowning.

“You think you can just look at me like that?” he rasped, his forehead knocking into yours, noses brushing, breaths mixing in harsh, heated gasps. “Smile at everyone like you’re not already fucking mine?”

Your heart slammed painfully against your ribs.

“You think I don’t, do you?” Jay growled. His hands tightened, grounding you in place. His eyes were wild, furious, pained. “You think I don’t fucking care?”

You blinked up at him, tears burning at the edges of your vision.

“I hate you,” you whispered, voice shaking. “And you hate me.”

But he shook his head, like he couldn’t believe you were still clinging to that lie.

“I don’t,” he said, voice raw, guttural, wrecked. “I don’t hate you.”

The words hit you harder than a slap.

“I wish I did,” he gritted out, jaw locking, eyes furious. “God, I wish I fucking hated you.”

Your breath hitched.

“But I can’t.” A shuddering breath. “I can’t hate you. I can’t even fucking breathe without thinking about you.”

You didn’t even realize you were crying again until his thumb brushed against your cheek, rough, almost angry, wiping the tears away like he hated seeing them, hated causing them, hated himself.

And then he kissed you again.

You gasped into his mouth as he pushed you harder against the wall, his hands roaming, feverish and trembling, like he couldn’t get enough of you, like he didn’t even know what he was doing, only that he needed more.

His fingers threaded into your hair, pulling just enough to make you whimper—a sound that made him groan low and broken in the back of his throat.

When he finally ripped away, both of you gasping, he didn’t move far. He stayed pressed against you, forehead pressed to yours, hands still framing your face like he was scared you'd slip through his fingers.

“I don’t know what this is,” he rasped, his voice wrecked, barely holding it together. “I don’t know what the fuck you did to me.”

Your hands slid up to clutch his arms, holding onto him like he was the only solid thing left in a world that was crumbling.

“Jay…” you whispered, voice shaking.

His hands dropped to your hips, yanking you closer until not even air fit between you.

But then, without warning, he grabbed your wrist and pulled you with him.

“Jay—” you started, but he didn’t even glance back.

The hallway blurred as he stormed through it, weaving past confused alphas and omegas still lingering from the party. Some of them gawked, some whispered, but Jay didn’t slow down. He didn’t even flinch.

It was like there was a fire under his skin and you were the only thing he could think about.

Your heart was racing, tripping over itself with every heavy step he took, the way his grip didn’t falter even once—like he needed you anchored to him.

Jay shoved his room open, yanked you inside, and slammed it shut behind you with a loud, final thud.

You barely had time to catch your breath before his hands were on you again, not rough to hurt, but rough in the way someone touches something they've been aching for too long.

He walked you backward without even thinking, his steps fast, heavy, until the backs of your knees hit the edge of his stupidly expensive bed.

And then he shoved you onto it.

You landed with a small gasp, staring up at him, heart hammering so violently it felt like it would burst straight out of your chest.

Jay just stood there for a second, looming over you, his chest rising and falling like he was at war with himself. Hair messy from running his fingers through it, lips swollen from kissing you, pupils blown wide with something between rage and want.

His hands fisted at his sides like he was holding himself back, like if he touched you again, he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to stop.

Jay stepped closer, until he was standing at the edge of the bed, looking down at you like you were both his salvation and his curse.

“You make me feel things I can't afford to feel, omega.” He said, voice shaking.

You reached up before you could stop yourself, your fingers tangling into his shirt, yanking him down.

He crashed into you like he’d been starving for this.

Jay hovered over you, breathing hard, his body practically trembling with restraint.

Your dress, soft, delicate, dangerous—had ridden up your thighs when he pushed you down, leaving you laid out beneath him like a goddamn fever dream.

And he looked ruined by it.

His hands slid up from your bare thighs, slow and shaky, fingertips brushing along your skin like he didn’t know whether to worship you or devour you.

You whimpered when his calloused palms grazed higher, just under the hem of your dress, and that sound—soft, desperate, for him—made him groan low and wrecked in his chest.

“Jay, please…” you breathed, voice trembling.

That was all it took.

One hand tangled in your hair, tilting your head up for a rough, searing kiss that left you gasping. His other hand slid up your dress, urgent and feverish, gripping your hip so hard you knew you’d feel it tomorrow.

“You drive me insane,” he growled into your mouth, voice wrecked and shaking. His lips trailed across your jaw, your throat, sucking harsh bruises into your skin like he wanted to mark you, like he wanted the world to know who you belonged to.

You clutched at his shirt, pulling him down, your body arching up into his without a second thought.

Jay muttered your name like a prayer, like a curse, and shoved the hem of your dress higher, revealing more skin, more of you, too much and never enough all at once.

His mouth trailed down, open-mouthed kisses against your shoulder, your collarbone, like he couldn’t decide where to start or stop. His hands shook where they gripped you, like he was barely holding himself together.

Panting hard against your skin, Jay’s hand slid over your shoulder, fingers finding the edge of the small scent-blocker patch clinging to your skin.

And before you could even process it, he peeled it off.

The moment the patch dropped onto the mattress with a soft, forgotten thud, your scent hit him full force—roses and apples, warm and sweet and so overwhelmingly you that Jay actually staggered, gripping you tighter like the air had been knocked out of him.

“Fuck,” he rasped, voice hoarse, his forehead dropping against your bare shoulder.

You barely had a second to react before he was back on you, rougher, hungrier, like the leash he kept on himself had snapped the second your scent filled the room.

His mouth crashed back to your skin, leaving darker, messier marks along your neck and collarbone, branding you with bruising kisses. His hands fisted your dress, dragging the fabric higher, desperate to feel more, touch more, claim more.

“You smell…” Jay broke off with a low, guttural groan, his nose burying into the crook of your neck, inhaling deep like he could never get enough. “You smell like fucking heaven.”

You whimpered, your body arching into his without even thinking, fingers scrambling at his shoulders for any kind of hold.

Your scent clung to him now—threaded into his clothes, his skin, his lungs—until Jay felt like he was burning alive from the inside out.

Without even realizing it, his mouth traced lower, nuzzling into the exposed skin of your chest, teeth nipping lightly, scenting you instinctively with every rough kiss and broken inhale.

“Fuck…” he rasped, like he wasn’t even aware he said it, voice breaking apart at the edges. His hands slid down, framing your waist, fingers pressing bruises into your skin like he couldn’t bear the idea of not touching you.

He leaned back for a breath—just a second—and you watched, dazed and wide-eyed, as he yanked the rest of his shirt off with one furious motion, tossing it across the room.

The sight of him, bare and golden in the dim light, muscles carved from every bottled-up emotion he never let himself feel, stole the air straight from your lungs.

And then his hands were on you again. He caught the hem of your dress and dragged it up slowly, unbearably slow, baring inch after inch of your flushed skin. His eyes didn’t leave you for a second, dark and hungry, like he was memorizing every piece of you he uncovered.

You gasped when the dress finally bunched at your arms, and he helped pull it up, over your head, tossing it aside without a second thought.

You sat there, barely covered now, clad only in a delicate black lingerie set, sheer, soft lace hugging your curves, a thin barrier between you and him.

His hand reached out and ghosted over your bare waist, your stomach, your ribs. His fingers skimmed up to the soft swell of your breasts, reverent, like he couldn’t believe you were real.

“You're…” He swallowed hard, blinking like he was dizzy. “You're gonna kill me.”

You whimpered when he leaned in again, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses to your bare shoulder, down your collarbone, nosing against the lace of your bra. His teeth scraped lightly against the sensitive skin above the cup, just enough to make you gasp, arching into him without thinking.

Jay groaned deep in his throat, hands sliding down to your thighs, pushing them open so he could fit between them, caging you against the bed like you were something he needed to survive.

His hands roamed—rough palms skating up your sides, thumbs brushing over the thin fabric of your bra until you shuddered, clutching at his bare shoulders like you were drowning.

You tried to speak, but all that came out was a broken sound when his lips found the soft skin of your stomach, trailing down, lower, slow and torturous.

And when he mouthed at the inside of your thigh; teeth grazing, tongue flicking—you sobbed his name, fingers burying in his hair, yanking hard enough to make him groan against your skin.

Jay pulled back, chest heaving, hair messy from your grip.

“Do you want this?” he panted, voice a hoarse command. “Tell me you want this.”

“Jay—Alpha—,” you whimpered, nails digging into his shoulders. “I want— please—”

That was all he needed.

His hand fumbled slightly, almost trembling, as he found the tiny hook at the back of your bra.

The clasp gave way with a soft snap. And Jay exhaled a sharp, broken sound when the lace slipped free, baring you completely to him.

His hands slid the straps down your arms, tossing the bra aside, but his eyes never left you—dark, glassy, drinking in every inch of newly exposed skin like he was starving.

“God, you’re beautiful,” he breathed, almost like he didn’t even mean to say it aloud.

You squirmed under his gaze, heat rising to your cheeks, but Jay wasn’t having it.

He caught your chin between his fingers, tilting your head up to meet his burning stare.

“No,” he rasped, voice wrecked. “Don’t look away. Don’t you dare.”

And then he was leaning in, pressing tender, desperate kisses over your bare chest—first to your collarbone, then lower, then lower, his mouth tracing invisible paths down the curve of your breast.

When he finally closed his mouth around your nipple, you gasped, head tipping back helplessly.

Jay groaned, sucking gently at first, then flicking his tongue over the sensitive peak, his hand sliding up to cup the other breast, thumb stroking slow circles around it.

You clutched at his shoulders, nails scraping lightly over the tense muscles there, earning a soft, needy grunt from deep in his chest.

“You feel so good,” he muttered against your skin, the vibrations making you whimper.

“So fucking good. I could spend hours just…” he kissed you again, open-mouthed and messy, “just worshipping you like this.”

Your thighs tightened around his hips instinctively, needing him closer, needing more. Jay lifted his head slightly, lips glossy, cheeks flushed, looking utterly undone.

“You have no idea what you do to me,” he whispered, forehead pressing to the center of your chest, right over your hammering heart.

You shivered under him, overwhelmed by the weight of his touch, his words, the way he was looking at you like you were the only thing he ever wanted and never thought he could have.

His teeth grazed lightly over the swell of your breast before pulling your nipple into his mouth again, rougher this time, making you gasp and arch into him.

Jay growled low in his throat, like he couldn’t get enough, couldn't get closer.

His free hand slid down your side, gliding over your waist, your hip, gripping your thigh and hauling it higher over his hip, locking you closer, tighter against him.

You could feel him now—hard, throbbing, desperate through the rough fabric of his pants, and the sound that broke from his throat when you shifted against him was downright sinful.

Jay’s mouth slanted hungrily over yours, swallowing your shaky little gasps as he dragged his hand lower, past your ribs, your waist, the curve of your hips, until his fingers brushed the edge of your panties.

You whimpered against his lips, hips jerking up slightly in silent plea, and Jay groaned low in his throat, deep and guttural.

“So eager for me,” he rasped, pulling back just enough to look at you: flushed, trembling, already falling apart beneath him.

His hand dipped lower, fingers teasing along the damp fabric stretched over your core, and the sound you made, a broken little whine—nearly undid him.

“Fuck, baby…” he breathed out harshly, pressing his forehead to yours. His fingers stroked a slow, torturous path over your panties, feeling how wet you were for him, how ready.

“You’re soaked,” he said hoarsely, almost like he was in pain. "All for me."

You nodded, desperate, not trusting yourself to speak.

With trembling fingers, he hooked his thumbs into the waistband of your panties and agonizingly dragged them down your thighs, kissing every inch of newly exposed skin as he went.

“Fucking perfect,” he whispered, voice almost breaking.

His fingers brushed against your slick heat, feather-light at first, like he was still trying to be gentle, still trying to hold himself back.

But the second you whimpered his name—that sweet, broken little “Jay…” he snapped.

He groaned, low and filthy, and slid a finger through your folds, gathering your wetness and circling your clit with maddening, teasing strokes.

Your hips bucked up helplessly, chasing his touch, and Jay shuddered against you.

“Good girl,” he muttered, kissing you again, “Such a good girl for me. Let me make you feel good, yeah? Let me have you.”

You barely managed a breathless nod before he slipped a finger inside you, slow but deep, dragging a moan from your throat it made him groan into your mouth.

“God, you're tight,” he muttered, sliding deeper, curling his finger just right, making your back arch off the bed. “Fucking made for me.”

Your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging—needing more, and Jay rewarded you by adding another finger, stretching you open, thrusting slow and deep while his thumb rubbed slow, torturous circles over your clit.

Jay kissed your jaw, your neck, your shoulder, leaving desperate, claiming marks, never stopping his movements, never letting you catch your breath.

“You’re doing so good, baby,” he murmured, voice thick with heat and awe. “So fucking beautiful like this, falling apart for me.”

“Come for me,” he rasped, speeding up just slightly, just enough. “Come on, sweetheart. Let me feel you.”

One more brush against your clit, one more deep curl of his fingers inside you and you shattered, crying out his name, legs shaking, nails digging into his back as you came undone.

He stayed pressed against you, lips brushing your ear as he whispered, “I'm not done with you yet, baby. Not even close.”

Jay shoved his pants down with frantic, clumsy movements, not even bothering to fully kick them off, just enough to free himself.

His cock slapped up against his stomach, flushed and leaking, thick and heavy, and the way he hissed through his teeth when your eyes dropped to it, wide and starry and a little scared almost undid him.

He stroked himself once, twice, jaw clenching hard, like he was trying to calm down but was way, way past that point.

“Fuck, baby,” he groaned, voice wrecked.

He grabbed your hips roughly and yanked you down the bed towards him, until your legs dangled over the edge and your body arched perfectly against him.

You barely had time to gasp before he hooked your thighs over his forearms, spreading you open for him, caging you in like you were his whole world—and you were.

“God, you're so fucking pretty like this,” he rasped, eyes locked on where you were dripping for him, his cock throbbing in his fist. “So fucking perfect.”

He lined himself up, the thick head nudging against your slick entrance, and he nearly collapsed with the need to just slam into you.

But he didn’t. He pushed in, just the tip and paused, forehead pressed to yours.

“You’re mine,” he whispered, voice so broken it barely sounded like him.

You nodded, desperate tears brimming again, and that was all he needed.

With a low, shattered groan, he sank into you fully, stretching you inch by inch until you felt impossibly full, impossibly complete.

You both cried out high, ragged sounds, clutching onto each other like the world would fall apart if you let go.

“God, you're tight,” Jay gasped into your neck, his voice almost pleading. “So fucking tight around me, baby."

He bottomed out, hips pressed flush against yours and just stayed there for a moment, trembling, trying not to lose his mind from how good you felt.

You whimpered his name, begging, rocking your hips the tiniest bit.

Jay pulled out, and slammed back in, deep and hard, dragging a broken moan from both of you.

And then he did it again. And again.

Setting a rough, desperate rhythm that had the headboard slamming against the wall, your cries echoing in the small, dim room.

“Fuck— you feel— so good,” Jay choked out between thrusts, punctuating each word with a deep, body-shaking snap of his hips.

He kissed you everywhere he could reach, your mouth, your neck, your jaw, your shoulder, leaving open-mouthed, messy, desperate kisses that tasted like sweat and tears and forever.

Your nails clawed at his back, leaving angry red lines in their wake, and Jay just groaned, thrusting harder, chasing that high he’d been starving for since the moment he realized he couldn’t hate you, no matter how much he tried.

“Come for me again,” he growled against your ear, voice dark and commanding. “Come all over my cock, baby. Show me who you fucking belong to.”

The coil in your belly snapped, pleasure ripping through you like wildfire, and you screamed his name as you came, clenching hard around him.

Jay followed with a desperate moan. One last deep, shaking thrust as he spilled inside you, shuddering, pressing his forehead to yours.

Jay didn't move at first, he didn't even think about pulling out.

He stayed buried inside you, breathing you in, cradling your body like something sacred.

And then, slowly, he pressed a kiss to your jaw.

Then another.

Then your cheek.

Then your temple.

Then your nose, your forehead, your lips—over and over, soft, reverent kisses that made you shiver and melt all at once.

You whimpered, still riding the tail-end of your high, your body sensitive and trembling.

Jay whispered against your skin, his voice so gentle it broke your heart.

“That’s it, omega,” he murmured. “Ride it out for me, baby. I’ve got you.”

He kissed the corners of your mouth, your tear-streaked cheeks, your swollen lips, whispering sweet nothings between every kiss.

“So good for me,” he breathed. “So fucking perfect. My girl.”

You laughed, a breathless, teary sound, pulling him closer by the nape of his neck. He let you tug him down, let you steal his mouth in another messy, lazy kiss, your lips barely brushing as you smiled against him.

When he pulled back, his forehead pressed to yours, eyes dark and soft and burning, he asked—voice low, teasing, but almost pleading underneath: “Do you still hate me, omega?”

You gave a watery giggle, shaking your head, your fingers threading into his sweat-damp hair.

“No,” you whispered, smiling against his lips, “Not even close.”

Jay’s whole body shuddered, like your words broke something loose inside him, and he kissed you again, deeper, slower, pouring everything he couldn’t say into the way his mouth moved against yours.

And when he finally pulled back, when he looked at you, flushed and wrecked and still trembling beneath him, something primal snapped in his gaze.

His hands framed your face again, thumbs brushing your cheeks, and he leaned so close that his next words ghosted against your mouth:

“Can I mark you?”

You gasped softly, not from fear, but from the sheer gravity of it. The room felt smaller, the air thicker, like the moment itself was alive, thrumming between you.

Jay grinned, a little dark, a little cocky, but there was so much love in his eyes it made your chest ache.

“So beautiful,” he whispered, voice cracking, “You’re already mine… but I want everyone to know it.”

Your heart twisted violently in your chest. You nodded, body trembling, and tilted your head back instinctively, baring your throat to him, offering yourself completely.

Trusting him.

Jay groaned—a raw, needy sound and buried his face in your neck, inhaling deep, almost drunk off your scent.

“God, you smell so good,” he rasped against your skin, “Sweet little thing. All mine.”

Tears stung your eyes, blurring the ceiling above, but you didn’t try to blink them away.

He kissed your throat, soft, open-mouthed kisses, dragging his teeth lightly over your pulse, making you shiver.

And then, without another word, he sank his teeth into the tender spot between your neck and shoulder—not hard enough to hurt, but hard enough to leave a claim.

You cried out, clinging to him desperately as the world tilted around you. Your nails dug into his back, feeling him everywhere, your own tears slipping down your cheeks unchecked.

Jay shook against you, his own tears soaking into your skin as he licked over the mark, soothing it with slow, tender kisses.

“You’re so good,” he whispered, voice thick and wet with emotion, “So perfect for me. Always have been.”

He finally pulled back to look at you. His eyes were red-rimmed, glassy with unshed tears, his hair a mess, his lips swollen, and yet he looked at you like you were his entire world.

“You’re mine now,” he murmured, a shaky smile tugging at his lips, “And I’m yours. Always.”

Morning came slow and golden.

The first rays of sunlight seeped through the sheer curtains of Jay’s room, spilling across the dark wooden floors, brushing the edge of the bed, kissing the tangle of limbs and flushed skin on top of it.

The party downstairs had long since ended.

The house was silent.

The world was silent, as if it was holding its breath for the two of you.

Jay stirred first, a sleepy, contented grumble rumbling low in his chest as he tucked you closer, nuzzling into the crook of your neck where your scent was the strongest.

You whimpered a little at the friction, your body still achy and oversensitive from the night before, but Jay just hummed, satisfied, clearly not planning on letting you go anytime soon.

His arms were like steel bands around you, one slung low around your waist, the other curled up over your shoulder, fingers twisted into your hair to keep you tucked against him.

You felt his nose nudge along your skin, his lips brushing the fresh mark he’d left on your neck, and it sent a soft, electric shiver through you.

“Mine,” he mumbled against your skin, hoarse and gravelly with sleep.

You smiled, eyes still shut, heart aching so sweetly you thought it might split open.

You shifted just slightly, enough to look up at him through heavy lashes. But he was already looking at you.

His hair was a mess, sticking up in every direction, and his eyes—usually so sharp, so burning—were soft, sleepy, a little puffy at the edges.

“Hey,” you whispered, your voice still rough.

Jay just tightened his hold, sliding his leg between yours like he needed more contact, needed you pressed as close as humanly possible.

“Don’t move,” he mumbled, voice wrecked and stubborn, “Stay.”

You laughed softly, threading your fingers through his hair, feeling him melt into your touch like a sleepy cat.

“I’m not going anywhere, Jay.”

He sighed, like he’d been holding onto that fear even in his sleep, and buried his face in your neck again, breathing you in deep.

Jay kissed the mark again, like an apology and a promise all at once, and you felt yourself tear up a little, overwhelmed by the sheer tenderness of it all.

You tightened your arms around him, fingertips tracing slow, lazy patterns across his bare back, and for a moment—just a moment— it was like nothing else in the world existed.

Just the steady beat of his heart against yours. Just the soft warmth of the morning light seeping through the curtains. Just you and him, tangled up in something too big for words.

And then—

You both flinched as your phones, discarded somewhere across the room last night, suddenly lit up like Christmas trees, buzzing so aggressively it made the nightstand rattle.

Jay groaned loudly into your neck, his arms tightening around you stubbornly as if he could somehow will the rest of the world away.

You laughed breathlessly, the sound shaky with leftover tears, and tilted your head to glance at the source of the noise—the bright, blinking screens lighting up with a flood of notifications.

“Well,” you teased, voice still rough from sleep and emotion, “I guess we’re not dead… but they definitely think we killed each other.”

Jay growled low in his throat, refusing to lift his head from your skin.

“Let them think whatever they want,” he muttered. “They can wait. You come first.”

You smiled so wide it hurt and tangled your fingers in his hair, tugging gently. “Come on, Mr. Park. We should probably let them know you didn’t actually throw me off the balcony.”

He finally huffed a reluctant laugh against your throat, but didn’t move an inch.

Instead, he moved just enough to blindly fumble around the nightstand, still pressed firmly against you.

You felt him stretch an arm out, muscles flexing as he grabbed his phone without looking, before he wrapped both arms right back around you, the device now hovering just above your line of sight.

You giggled softly against his chest as you tilted your head, watching as Jay unlocked his phone with a lazy swipe of his thumb, and immediately flinched at the explosion of messages flooding his screen.

Heeseung [8:12 AM]: BRO DID YOU KILL (Y/N) OR DID YOU KILL HER, WHAT IS IT

Jungwon [8:12 AM]: Jay? Hello? Hello???

Jake [8:12 AM]: Guys what if they’re dead

Ni-ki [8:12 AM]: HELLO HELLO HELLO WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON DID THEY FINALLY KILL EACH OTHER

Sunghoon [8:13 AM]: someone call the police im serious 🤷‍♂️

Sunoo [8:13 AM]: bro imagine we have to explain to the media that they died fighting 💀

Heeseung [8:14 AM]: i don’t wanna cancel our trip to jeju later wtf do i tell (y/n)’s parents i booked a private plane under their company PLEASE RESPOND

Sunoo [8:14 AM]: LMFAOOO oh wow not jay’s company huh 👀

Sunghoon [8:14 AM]: wtf i haven’t even packed yet STOP PLAYING

Jay let out a low snort of amusement, his chest vibrating against you.

You tilted your head back slightly, just enough to see the way his mouth quirked up into that slow, cocky grin you knew all too well.

Still holding you snug against him, he started typing with both thumbs, his phone wobbling slightly in the air above your face.

Jay [8:15 AM]: we’re alive. we’ll be there later.

Seconds later, another explosion of messages hit:

Ni-ki [8:15 AM]: WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN WE??????

Jake [8:15 AM]: no fucking way no no no no no

Sunghoon [8:16 AM]: yeah, i need a drink

Jay just smirked wider, lowering his phone back to the nightstand before tightening his grip on you, tugging you even closer into his chest like he couldn’t stand a single inch of space between you.

“They’re so dramatic,” he muttered into your hair, pressing a lazy kiss against the crown of your head.

“You’re literally worse.”

He hummed like he didn’t even deny it.

Before you could react, Jay moved, sweeping you up effortlessly into his arms, one under your knees, the other supporting your back. You gasped, clinging to his shoulders as he lifted you.

“Jay!” you squeaked, laughing breathlessly.

He only grinned, that lazy, devastating grin that made your heart race. “Princesses don’t walk,” he said, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

You melted into him without a fight, hiding your face against his neck, breathing him in. You could feel the steady beat of his heart against your cheek, and it made your chest ache in the sweetest way.

Jay carried you across the massive bedroom like you weighed nothing, setting you down gently on the cool marble counter of the bathroom.

He brushed your hair back with careful fingers, then grabbed a towel, wetting it with warm water.

You watched, blinking hard to keep from tearing up, as he cleaned you up with a reverence you didn’t think you deserved but that he gave you anyway.

“You’re so pretty,” he said under his breath, almost like he didn’t mean to let it slip.

You tugged lightly at his shirt, wordlessly pulling him in, and Jay leaned down without hesitation, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

When he was done, he let his hand linger against your cheek, his thumb stroking lazily.

“Alright, little princess,” he murmured, “you wanna raid my closet? Pick something to wear before we head out?”

You nodded shyly, and he grinned like he was proud of himself.

Jay helped you down from the counter, keeping a hand firmly at your waist like he wasn’t ready to let you go yet.

He guided you into the massive walk-in closet and gestured proudly.

“Take your pick, the empire’s yours.”

You snorted, rifling through his things, oversized hoodies, crisp dress shirts, soft designer sweats.

Eventually, you chose one of his favorite sweatshirts. He watched you pull it over your head with a look that could only be described as smitten.

Once the both of you were dressed, he laced your fingers with his again and tugged you toward the stairs. One hand stayed steady at your back the entire walk down, guiding you gently, protectively.

The Park estate opened up before you, morning sunlight pouring through floor-to-ceiling windows, gleaming against spotless marble floors and expensive furniture.

You blinked—there was no sign that a wild party had even happened just hours ago. No empty glasses, no discarded decorations, no mess.

The place was pristine.

Jay caught your glance and shrugged casually.

“We pay them enough,” he said with a smirk, his thumb tracing slow, comforting circles against your spine.

He led you outside, the garage doors sliding open smoothly, revealing rows of luxury cars lined up—Ferraris, Porsches, Lamborghinis.

He headed straight for a sleek black BMW, already gleaming under the early morning sun.

You squinted at it in surprise, “Not taking the Ferrari?”

Jay shot you a look over his shoulder, one brow raised.

“Please. I’m a family man now,” he said with a grin, unlocking the car. “I need to be flashy but timeless.”

You burst out laughing, covering your mouth.

He just winked at you, opening the passenger door and holding it out like a true pureblooded Alpha.

You slid inside the plush interior—the scent of leather and something distinctly Jay wrapping around you immediately.

The BMW i7, because of course it had to be the luxury electric sedan—was pure understated elegance, still sleek enough to scream money without being obnoxious.

Jay circled the front and climbed into the driver’s seat, immediately reaching for you.

One hand found your thigh, his thumb tracing lazy, possessive circles there, while the other started the engine.

The car hummed to life, smooth and silent, and Jay pulled out of the driveway like he wasn’t in a rush at all—like he had all the time in the world as long as you were sitting next to him.

Morning sunlight poured through the windshield, casting a soft glow on the sharp lines of his face, painting the air between you gold. It felt so easy, slipping into small talk. random jokes, casual teasing—the kind of mindless conversations that only came when you were at peace with someone.

But somewhere along the road, Jay’s voice dipped into something quieter, almost like he was thinking out loud.

“Y’know…” he said, thumb still tracing idle patterns on your thigh, “Heeseung almost beat the shit out of me once.”

You blinked, turning to glance at him. “Only once?”

Jay chuckled under his breath, the sound low and fond, “Okay… this time was different.”

He flexed his fingers slightly against you, gripping just a little tighter, like the memory still had claws in him.

“It was about a year ago,” he continued, his voice dipping softer, almost cautious. “I… caught a scent. It was intoxicating. It stopped me dead in my tracks.”

Your breath caught. Your chest tightened, because you already knew exactly where this was going.

“I followed it,” Jay said, a bitter laugh escaping him. “Like some idiot that couldn’t even think straight. Just moved. Through the hallways, past the South Wing… And then I wasn’t the only one. Other alphas caught it too. They started trailing after it—after you.”

You turned toward him fully now, eyes wide.

His jaw clenched, the muscles ticking. “They were talking. Joking. Saying disgusting shit. I don’t even remember what set me off, just that one of them said something like ‘whoever she is, she’s already mine’ and the next thing I knew…”

He exhaled hard, voice trembling with the weight of memory, “I lost it.”

“I fought them,” he said quietly, “right there in the middle of the hallway. Didn’t even register Heeseung yelling at me until he grabbed me from behind, slammed me against the lockers.”

Jay’s knuckles whitened around the wheel.

“Heeseung was furious. Said I was reckless. That I was scaring her. That I wasn’t thinking—just reacting.”

You closed your eyes for a second, heart thudding painfully.

“And when I looked up… you were already gone. You ran.”

The silence that fell between you was deafening and thick, like fog curling around your ribs. Like every breath was harder than the last.

Jay’s grip tightened again, “I didn’t know it was you,” he whispered. “Didn’t even see your face.”

You turned your head away, blinking fast as the car sped down the quiet streets, buildings blurring past.

Jay glanced at you, his voice lower now, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

There wasn’t any anger there, just something aching, something that bled.

You exhaled shakily. “I was scared,” you said, your voice barely there. “We hated each other so much back then… I thought if you knew, it would just make things worse. I thought you’d hate me even more.”

Jay pulled the car to a slow stop at a red light. His free hand reached over without hesitation, fingers finding yours. He threaded them together and brought your hand to his lips, pressing a soft kiss against your knuckles.

“I knew it,” he murmured against your skin. “The moment I smelled your scent last night… it all made sense.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, emotions crashing over you like waves against a cliff as Jay’s thumb brushed over your hand gently.

“(Y/N),” he said softly, eyes locked on yours, “if I knew sooner… we wouldn’t have wasted so much time fighting. But maybe…” he smiled, small and bittersweet, “Maybe fate knew what it was doing. Maybe we had to go through all that first… just to get here.”

A smile tugged at the corners of your lips.

“Yeah,” you whispered. “Maybe we did.”

Jay didn’t look away. Not even for a second. Like if he blinked, you’d disappear again. Like he was still trying to convince himself this wasn’t a dream.

Your fingers curled a little tighter around his, “Yes,” you added, more firmly this time. “Yes… I think we did.”

The long stretch of your family’s estate driveway came into view, guarded by manicured hedges and century-old trees that swayed lazily under the late morning sun.

You barely had time to pull your phone out before the front gate began to creak open. The guards didn’t even glance at the cameras or lift the clipboard that usually held a guest list. One of them even gave a small nod toward the BMW with a knowing grin.

Jay chuckled from the driver’s seat, one hand lazily resting on the wheel. “See that?” he murmured. “Didn’t even need to flex the last name this time.”

You were already reaching for your door handle when his voice cut through, teasing, but somehow impossibly gentle.

“Not on my watch.”

Before you could protest, he was unbuckled and out of his seat, circling the car with a graceful stride. He pulled open your door like it was second nature, offering his hand as you stepped out.

You rolled your eyes, but your smile gave you away. “You know I have hands, right?”

“Yeah,” Jay murmured, already slipping one of his arms around your waist, pulling you just a little closer as he leaned in. “But I like using mine on you better.”

Your breath caught for a second, but before you could say anything back, he was already guiding you toward the front steps, his hand never leaving your waist.

As the double doors opened, the two of you were met with the low hum of movement. Staff bustling past with quick, light steps, some carrying neatly packed luggage while others adjusted flower vases or stacked up trays by the door. But even in the rush, their smiles bloomed the moment they saw you both.

“Good morning, Ma’am. Sir,” one maid greeted politely, nodding once before ducking back into a hallway with a tray of fruit.

Another paused just long enough to grin and whisper, “Welcome back,” to Jay like he was some extended family member returning from vacation.

You blinked, glancing around at the busy, borderline chaotic atmosphere. “Okay, what is happening—”

“Darling!”

Your mother’s voice echoed through the hallway before you saw her, sweeping in from the corridor that led to the kitchen, wearing a silk robe over her day dress, earrings already on like she was mid-way through prepping for lunch guests.

“Mom—?”

But before you could finish, she was wrapping you up in a warm hug, her familiar perfume wrapping around you like a second home. A second later, her arms extended to Jay with equal affection. He stepped into her embrace easily, like he’d done it a hundred times before.

“I knew it,” she murmured as she pulled back with a sparkle in her eyes. “I knew something was different when Heeseung mentioned the group trip. I had a feeling.”

Trailing behind her, your father appeared, less dramatic than your mom, of course, but no less warm. His eyes crinkled as he clapped a hand to Jay’s shoulder.

“Well, well,” he said with a low chuckle. “Took you two long enough.”

Jay only laughed softly, rubbing the back of his neck, still keeping his other arm loosely around your waist.

Your mom glanced over at the staircase, where another housekeeper was hurrying down with more of your things. “Your bags are almost done being packed, sweetheart. I told the staff as soon as I got wind of the flight being booked. Heeseung can’t keep secrets to save his life.”

You blinked. “Wait—you knew about the trip before I even—?”

“I had a hunch,” she smiled knowingly. “Mother’s instinct.”

Jay leaned closer, whispering in your ear, “They’re worse than we are.”

You bit back a laugh and turned to your mom. “I’m just gonna go upstairs and change real quick.”

She waved you off with a wink. “Take your time. I’m sure Jay will keep your father company.”

Jay remained at the base of the staircase, his hands tucked into the pockets of his slacks as he looked around the space he’d come to know like the back of his hand.

He didn’t wander or make himself at home, he stood there patiently, shoulders squared, waiting until he was invited further in.

He didn’t have to wait long.

Your father laughed, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “Come on, don’t just stand out here like a statue. Let’s sit. I’m sure we have a lot to talk about.”

Your mother smiled and motioned toward the sunlit living room just off the main foyer. “Let’s catch up before (Y/N) comes back down.”

Jay followed them into the living room, the tall windows letting soft afternoon light spill across the cream sofas and mahogany floors.

He waited until your parents were seated before taking the spot they offered, straight-backed but comfortable, like someone raised with discipline but surrounded by warmth.

“So,” your dad started, leaning forward slightly with a teasing glint in his eyes. “Tell me, how’s my favorite rival company’s heir doing? Still beating our numbers in Q2?”

Jay smirked. “Only barely. You’re making it harder every year, sir.”

“Good,” your father said with a nod of approval. “You’ll need the fight in you. So… are you planning on taking the reins before or after graduation?”

“After,” Jay replied. “Officially, anyway. But I’ve been managing one of the Park Group’s newer divisions since last year. It’s a test, sort of —my father wants to see if I can build something without the family name propping it up.”

“And?” your mom asked, interest piqued.

Jay met her eyes, confident. “It’s going well. Better than expected.”

Your father leaned back, eyebrows raised in surprise and maybe a bit of pride. “Look at that. You're already shaping up to be a better CEO than half the council. And what about your personal life?”

Jay hesitated, just for a second. Then he gave a small smile.

“Actually… that’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Is this about our daughter?” your mom asked, her tone teasing but gentle.

“Yes,” Jay nodded. “I know you probably saw it coming, but something changed recently.”

He took a breath.

“We’re mates.”

Silence blanketed the room.

Your mom blinked, mouth parting slightly in shock. “You’re—? What?”

Jay nodded again. “I found out last night. I didn’t tell her immediately—I didn’t want to scare her. We weren’t exactly… in the best place before. But I’ve always known. And now she knows too.”

Your dad sat forward, processing. “Mates? As in… fated?”

Jay nodded. “Yes, sir. I couldn’t believe it either at first.”

Your mom slowly sat back, eyes still wide but brimming with awe. “We always thought you two would end up together eventually but—this?”

Jay smiled a little. “It surprised me too. But in the best way.”

Your dad looked at him for a long second before breaking into a grin and reaching forward to clap his hand onto Jay’s shoulder.

“Now that is a twist I didn’t see coming. But you know what? If there’s anyone I’d want my daughter to be bonded to for life… it’s you.”

Jay’s expression softened, something like relief and deep gratitude passing over his face.

“Thank you, sir. That means everything.”

“And now I don’t even have to threaten you to keep her safe,” your dad added with a wink. “The bond’s already doing the work.”

Your mom laughed gently. “Poor thing. He’s already halfway in love with our family.”

“Halfway?” your dad scoffed. “I think he’s already planning the wedding.”

Jay flushed slightly but smiled anyway, glancing toward the stairs where you’d disappeared minutes ago.

“If she’ll have me,” he murmured, almost to himself. “Then yeah… I am.”

And as if summoned by the warmth in his voice, the faint sound of heels tapping echoed faintly from the top of the stairs, but not quite loud enough to carry into the living room if it hadn’t been for the silence that followed Jay’s confession.

You emerged, one hand brushing down the sleek fabric of your dress, the other adjusting the strap of your purse. “Did I miss anything?” you asked casually, a small smile playing on your lips.

Jay turned his head—and for a second, he could only stare. You were matching him.

From head to toe—Prada. The rich black of your dress mirrored the stitching of his blazer. Your heels were delicate but sharp, and your purse swung gently from your fingers like you’d been born to carry it. Like fate had handpicked this exact moment to knock the wind right out of him.

Jay let out a quiet, breathless laugh, shaking his head in disbelief. “Not a thing,” he said softly, rising to his feet.

Your parents, sitting just nearby, shared a knowing look. The kind only longtime friends and now amused parents could understand. Jay didn’t miss it. He offered a respectful nod, then turned his full attention to you.

With an easy, instinctive grace, he walked toward the stairs and extended his hand to you. “Let me,” he murmured, voice low as if the act itself was something sacred.

You didn’t hesitate. Your fingers slid into his, and his touch was warm. He supported you gently as you stepped down, the way he always did when no one else was looking. Except now, everyone was.

Behind you, your mother smiled at the sight while your father quietly cleared his throat, trying to mask the fond grin tugging at his lips.

“Well, don’t let us hold you two up,” your dad said, standing. “You’ve got a trip to prepare for, right?”

“We’ll have the staff help with your luggage,” your mom added with a wave. “Already had some of them load the bags into the car, figured you wouldn’t mind.”

Jay gave them a polite bow of thanks. “Thank you, ma’am. Sir.”

But your mom only chuckled, waving him off. “Oh, hush. We’re practically family now.”

Jay glanced back at you, his fingers still wrapped gently around yours.

“Ready?” he asked, voice soft, just for you.

You nodded.

“Always.”

The ride to the airport was calm, the kind of stillness that felt heavenly. Jay drove with one hand on the steering wheel, the other comfortably resting on your thigh, a new habit of his he wasn’t even subtle about anymore.

Your hand rested over his, fingers loosely laced. You didn’t need to speak. There was something peaceful about just sitting beside him.

As the city began to fade behind you, replaced by long private roads and security gates, you both recognized the road instantly. The executive terminal: exclusive, guarded, and custom-fitted to handle high-profile families like yours.

Jay slowed the car in front of the entrance gate, and before anyone could reach for IDs or protocols, the guard recognized the vehicle immediately and stepped back with a slight bow.

“Mr. Park,” he greeted. “Welcome back.”

Jay gave a nod, the shift in his expression immediate. Gone was the quiet softness from earlier, in its place was the composed, unreadable pureblood Alpha everyone knew. Shoulders squared, jaw sharp, posture flawless. This was the version of Jay the world saw. The version you used to see, too.

He drove up to the private hangar like he owned the place, parking with ease.

You reached for your door out of instinct, already used to doing things yourself.

But before you could even brush the handle, you heard him mutter low under his breath, a smirk ghosting his lips.

“So stubborn.”

“Stay put,” he added, “I’ve got it.”

You blinked, amused, and waited as he circled around to your side, opening the door with confidence only Jay could pull off. One hand reached out to help you, while the other naturally returned to your waist—always touching, always claiming.

Two staff members approached from the terminal, rolling a luggage cart beside them. And the moment they entered the scene, Jay changed again.

Eyes sharper. Back straighter. Voice clipped and clear.

He helped unload the luggage himself, ignoring the slight protests from the staff. Calm, professional. Cold, even. The full effect of a pureblooded Alpha.

The staff didn’t dare question him, only nodded along and took the bags with a silent understanding.

Then Jay turned back to you, and just like that, he softened.

He walked toward you, hand naturally returning to your lower back like a reflex, you leaned into him without thinking.

He handed his keys to a man waiting off to the side—one of your family’s staff.

“Same spot as last time,” Jay said smoothly. “Make sure it’s locked.”

“Yes, sir. Safe travels.”

He nodded once, eyes already back on you. “Everything’s good,” he said gently. “Let’s go.”

But before either of you could even take a step toward the plane, the air cracked with the sound of multiple gasps and curses.

“OH MY FUCKING GOD!”

“I KNEW IT!” Ni-ki practically screamed, throwing his hands up like he'd just won the lottery. “I FUCKING KNEW IT!”

You and Jay both froze, turning slowly.

Jay’s demeanor didn’t change much—stoic, as always—but there was the smallest twitch at the corner of his mouth. The pureblooded alpha aura didn’t falter, but you knew him too well now. He was amused.

You, on the other hand, were already trying not to burst into laughter.

Ni-ki looked like he’d just witnessed history being made. “This feels illegal. I feel so betrayed. Everyone has their mates now. What the hell—”

Jungwon chuckled and patted him on the back like a grieving brother. “It’s okay, Ni-ki. One day, you’re still young.”

“I’m eighteen!”

“Exactly.”

Sunoo was fanning his mate like they were on the verge of passing out. “Baby, breathe— I told you. I told you something was going on, didn’t I? The text message!”

Heeseung had a hand on his forehead, staring at the two of you like he couldn’t compute what he was seeing. His mate was gripping his arm, whispering, “Hee, calm down, your jaw’s on the floor.”

Jake and Jungwon both had their arms around their mates, grinning ear to ear.

“Finally,” Jake muttered, practically beaming. “He actually did it.”

“I told you there was no way they hated each other that much,” Jungwon added.

Sunghoon let out a long exhale and shook his head, his mate squeezing his hand. “That’s one more bet I lost.”

“Should’ve listened to me,” Jake grinned. “I said it’d happen before the semester ended.”

“You also said they’d kill each other before finals,” Jungwon’s mate reminded him.

He shrugged. “Same thing.”

But before any of them could spiral again, a low chime echoed across the hangar.

The pilot stepped forward with a slight bow. “The aircraft is ready. You may board now.”

Jay nodded once, adjusting the strap of his carry-on while his other hand instinctively found your lower back again. “Come on.”

But you barely made it five steps before chaos exploded behind you again.

“WAIT, WAIT—YOU'RE JUST GONNA WALK AWAY?!” Ni-ki cried, storming forward and jabbing Jay repeatedly in the ribs with his index finger. “You don’t get to drop a relationship bomb and not explain anything! You’re like my older brother, and you’ve been lying to me this whole time?!”

Jay didn't even flinch. “You’re being dramatic.”

“I slept in the same house as you! I let you drive my Lamborghini Revuelto! I shared my bungeoppang with you!” Ni-ki clutched his chest like Jay had personally betrayed his bloodline. “Bungeoppang, Jay!”

The others erupted in laughter, and Jay finally cracked a tiny smirk, clearly amused but trying not to show it.

“YOU!” Sunoo’s mate pointed at you with a gasp. “Come here right now.”

Before you could even blink, you were swept right out of Jay’s reach by a very determined cluster of mates—Sunoo’s, Jungwon’s, Jake’s, Heeseung’s, even Sunghoon’s—looping their arms around yours like a pack of seagulls finding shiny treasure.

“No!” Jay called behind you, his voice laced with playful disbelief. “Don’t tell them anything!”

But it was too late. They had you now.

“How did it happen?”

“Who confessed first?”

“Did he like, chase after you?”

“Did he scent you before or after the party?!”

“Was it romantic or did he just say, ‘You’re mine now’ in that stupid alpha voice of his?”

You were laughing now, nearly breathless as they herded you up the steps to the private plane like a gaggle of gossiping aunts. “I—It’s complicated!”

“So you are scented and marked!” Sunoo’s mate screamed.

Inside the plane, Jay sighed and looked at the other alphas, already walking up with their own bags.

“She’s not making it out of this alive.”

“You’re not either,” Jake grinned. “You’re gonna be the main topic of the whole student body after this.”

Onboard, the cabin was sleek and spacious, cushioned leather seats and wood-paneled walls humming with quiet luxury. Everyone was settling in—bags in compartments, jackets off, seatbelts clicked.

You were finally back beside Jay, who placed your bag in the overhead with one hand and rested the other on your thigh like it was second nature. Like it had always been his favorite place to rest.

“But, when did this even happen?!” Jake asked as he buckled in across from Jay, barely able to contain the grin on his face. “Was it before the council meeting yesterday? During the party? What?”

“I need a timeline,” Jake’s mate added, already halfway turned in her seat as she looked at you for answers.

“I second that,” Jungwon nodded, his arm draped lazily around his mate. “The whole council is going to have a meltdown when they find out. I want to know exactly when to be ready.”

Ni-ki was practically vibrating in his seat. “You said you hated (Y/N)!” he cried, pointing accusingly at Jay with narrowed eyes. “You said she made your blood boil!”

Jay blinked. “So-so, I said she was annoying, infuriating, exasperating, bothersome, and tiresome. ”

“Same thing!” Ni-ki snapped, voice cracking in betrayal.

Sunghoon, who had been leaning back with his arms crossed, let out a sigh and casually tossed a bag of chips across the aisle. “There, there, you big baby,” he muttered.

Ni-ki caught the bag with deadly precision, sending Sunghoon a sharp glare. “This isn’t over.”

Jay just rolled his eyes, the faintest smirk on his lips as his hand found your thigh again.

“Seriously, though,” Jake leaned in a bit, tone curious. “When did it happen? You two hated each other for years.”

Jay gave your leg a small squeeze, glancing at you for confirmation before answering. “Just yesterday, really,” he said simply. “It… clicked.”

“‘Clicked,’ he says,” Sunoo muttered with a shake of his head. “We need to talk about how to define ‘clicked’ from now on.”

The soft ding of the seatbelt sign echoed through the private jet, signaling it was safe to move around. Heeseung’s mate immediately perked up, turning to Jay with a cheeky grin.

“Can we steal her for a bit?” She asked, motioning to you already mid-laugh with Sunoo’s mate and the others gathering near the lounging area at the back of the plane.

Jay sighed dramatically, but the corners of his mouth betrayed the amusement he tried to hide. His hand lingered on your thigh for a second longer before he gently pulled away.

“Fine,” he murmured, leaning in to press a warm, tender kiss to your cheek. “Have fun, but don’t forget whose seat that is.”

You giggled, giving his hand a squeeze before letting the girls tug you toward the oversized cream leather couch that wrapped around one corner of the plane. It was cozy and softly lit, with plush pillows and just enough privacy from the boys still seated at the front.

Sunoo’s mate—who had somehow befriended one of the flight attendants like they’d known each other for years—flashed a wink and raised a single hand in the air.

“Champagne, please? For… celebration purposes.”

The attendant giggled and nodded, “Coming right up.”

As laughter erupted from the girls’ side, the guys remained at the front, scattered across the seats. Heeseung slowly stood and made his way to Jay’s side, his expression more thoughtful than stern. He dropped into the seat across from him, arms loosely crossed over his chest.

“I’m gonna ask you something,” Heeseung began, his voice low enough to be serious but not confrontational. “And you better answer me straight.”

Jay looked up, posture instinctively alert. “Go ahead.”

“You didn’t force her into this, right?” Heeseung asked, brows furrowing slightly. “Because I remember the incident. I had to physically pull you back from losing it. And even though I didn’t get to be around her as much as I wanted when we were younger, I still saw (Y/N) as a little sister. You know that.”

Jay didn’t speak for a second. His gaze shifted briefly toward you—legs folded under you, glass of champagne in hand, laughing at whatever nonsense Ni-ki’s mate just said. Then back to Heeseung.

“I didn’t force anything,” Jay replied softly. “Not a single thing. I didn’t even realize how bad I wanted her until I saw her cry… and I couldn’t do anything about it. But no. She chose this. She chose me.”

Heeseung nodded slowly, leaning back. “Okay. Good. Just had to make sure.”

“And if I did?” Jay challenged lightly, one brow raised in a smirk. He flashed a smile, one canine subtly showing. It wasn’t meant as a threat, but rather instinct; a silent, unspoken flex only pureblooded Alphas understood.

“Then I’d have to throw you off this plane mid-air,” Heeseung replied with a half-smile. “With no parachute.”

“Fair.”

From behind them, Sunghoon added, “Same goes for if you ever make (Y/N) cry again. Just saying.”

“Noted.”

Jake leaned over the armrest with a mock-serious look. “If she texts me anything longer than three sentences sounding even slightly sad, I’m storming your house with Jungwon and Ni-ki.”

“I’ll bring my baseball bat,” Ni-ki offered with a casual shrug.

“I’ll bring my lawyer,” Jungwon quipped.

Sunoo, from the side, rested his chin on his palm. “And I’ll cry. Loudly. And dramatically. For hours.”

Jay couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped him. “Wow. Emotional blackmail and legal threats? That’s impressive.”

“You mess with (Y/N), you mess with all of us,” Heeseung shrugged. “You knew the deal the moment you fell for her, we’re like her annoying big brothers.”

Jay just nodded, more affected than he let on. “I know. She’s worth all of it.”

At the back of the plane, you peeked toward the front and found Jay already looking at you. He gave you the softest smile—one none of them had seen before today—and you swore your heart did a little flip.

You mouthed, ‘You okay?’

He just nodded, mouthing back, ‘Perfect.’

And then Ni-ki’s voice cut through the air like a bullet.

“I still can’t believe you managed to keep a secret relationship for a whole day! From me!?” Ni-ki wailed dramatically, arms flung into the air like it was the end of the world.

“Ni-ki, oh my god,” you groaned from the couch, laughing so hard you almost spilled your drink. “We didn’t even try to hide it. You’re just blind.”

“That’s a lie and you know it!” he pointed accusingly, already gearing up for another round of outrage.

Jungwon’s mate leaned in from the other couch, glass of champagne in hand, a teasing smile tugging at her lips. “It’s okay, boo. We’ll tease you just as much when you find your mate.”

Ni-ki went completely still.

“Hell no.”

The entire cabin erupted into laughter—Sunoo actually snorted, and Jake nearly spilled his water as he doubled over. Even Heeseung cracked a grin while shaking his head.

“Oh my god, he looked like you asked him to give up one of his cars,” Jungwon wheezed, pointing at Ni-ki.

“I’d consider giving up one of my cars,” Ni-ki deadpanned, eyes narrowed. “But getting mated? That’s permanent.”

Sunghoon lifted his glass in salute. “Such a big baby.”

Ni-ki glared at him. “Say that again and I’ll tell your mate you cried at Titanic.”

Sunghoon gasped, nearly choking on his drink. “You said that was a safe space!”

You were breathless from laughter, cradling your glass to your chest as Jay sent you a soft smile.

It was warm. It was real. And for the first time, it didn’t feel like some fantasy or secret—just yours. And his.

The descent was smooth, but the moment the plane’s wheels kissed the ground, excitement hummed like electricity in the air. As the door opened and the stairs were lowered, the scent hit you all almost instantly—warm, salty, and heady. The ocean.

Jungwon was the first to breathe it in, eyes widening slightly. “Smells like freedom.”

Ni-ki stepped out right behind him, inhaling deeply. “Smells like salt and sand in my shoes.”

“Not this again,” Sunghoon muttered, shaking his head as he slung an arm over his mate’s shoulder.

The group was ushered into waiting black SUVs—sleek, polished, and already air-conditioned. The kind of airport-to-hotel service only the wealthy were used to.

You and Jay naturally took one car, while the rest split into their own pairs and groups. The ride was scenic, the road winding along cliffsides with views of the sprawling sea, sun dipping low in the sky.

At the hotel lobby, grand and gilded in a way that didn’t feel showy—just expensive—everyone gathered by the reception desk, carry-ons in hand. Bellboys already whisked away the rest of the luggage.

The front desk staff handed out keycards with practiced grace.

“Couples get the honeymoon suites,” Sunoo teased with a smirk, flashing his and his mate’s matching keycards.

Ni-ki dramatically dropped his carry-on with a groan. “Thank God! I was about to stab my eyeballs out if I had to witness one more mushy couple moment.”

“Why are you so dramatic?” Jungwon laughed, ruffling his hair as he passed by.

“It’s a skill,” Ni-ki sniffed, picking up his bag with a huff.

Your suite was at the far end of the top floor, quiet and private—like everything about it had been carefully curated. The moment you stepped inside, your breath caught.

It was magic.

Wide open, marble floors, soft white furniture, walls made of glass overlooking the ocean. A king-sized bed sat at the center of it all like royalty, and the sound of the waves crashing in the distance filled the space like a lullaby.

You walked towards the balcony, the sliding glass door already slightly ajar, letting in the salty air and golden light. The view made you pause completely.

Endless ocean. A stretch of ivory beach. The horizon bathed in sunset orange.

You smiled softly, leaning on the railing. Behind you, Jay’s lingered. His arms circled around your waist, pulling you back into his chest as he leaned his chin gently on your shoulder. A soft kiss was pressed to the top of your head.

“You good?” he asked, voice low and warm.

You nodded, your fingers playing with his. “Do you want another room? I know you like your peace and quiet.”

He let out a soft laugh and shook his head. “This view is so much better.”

You turned slightly to catch the small smile tugging at his lips, eyes locked on you, not the sunset.

“You’re so cheesy,” you whispered, laughing.

“And yet you still love me.”

Jay’s lips were gentle but determined as they trailed along the curve of your neck, hands now resting low on your hips while the waves crashed far beneath the balcony.

The golden light from the sunset made everything glow—his skin, your cheeks, the white curtains swaying in the ocean breeze. His voice rumbled softly against your skin as he murmured something you didn’t catch, too distracted by the way his nose nuzzled behind your ear.

You were smiling like an idiot. That kind of unbothered, heart-floating smile that said: I could stay here forever.

And then, your phone buzzed.

You groaned dramatically, grabbing it from where you had left it on the lounge chair nearby, thumb tapping the notification.

my girl + and heeseung’s too [6:40 PM]: hi babes! get changed in a bit okay?? dinner’s at this five-star restaurant sunghoon booked by the beach. v romantic, dress cute 💗 see u there!

You held up the phone with a little laugh. “We’ve been summoned.”

Jay didn’t even look up. His lips were already lower—brushing over your collarbone with the kind of devotion that made your knees weak.

You smacked his shoulder, trying not to burst into a fit of laughter.

“Jay!”

He groaned and buried his face into your neck.

“I can never have nice things,” he mumbled against your skin, voice full of playful frustration. “Every time I try to be happy.”

You twisted around in his arms, cupping his face and pressing a quick kiss to the corner of his mouth. “You’ll survive.”

He followed you as you stepped back into the suite, eyes raking down your body like you were something out of a dream.

"Fine,” he sighed again, hands shoved dramatically in his pockets. “But only because I want to show you off.”

You emerged from the bathroom twenty minutes later, slipping on your gold hoops and adjusting the soft chain around your neck—and Jay’s eyes snapped to you like a moth to a flame.

You were wearing a flowy white skirt that hugged your hips like it was tailored for you, the hem falling just above your ankles and catching the light as you moved.

On top, a strapless tube blouse bloomed in soft tones of blush pink and white florals, cinched perfectly at your waist. You’d kept your makeup light, sun-kissed, a dab of gloss on your lips and shimmer on your cheekbones. The final touch was a set of gold bangles and the way your hair fell just right.

Jay’s jaw went slack for a second before he swallowed thickly and straightened his collar.

“I’m gonna fight someone tonight,” he said flatly.

You looked him over too, cheeks warming—because your man showed up in an off-white linen shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, collar undone just enough to show the chain you always stared at. He paired it with tailored beige shorts, casual but rich. Hair freshly tousled, cologne just the right amount.

“You clean up okay,” you teased.

Jay raised a brow. “Okay?”

You gave him a cheeky grin and pulled him closer by the front of his shirt. “Okay, but dangerously hot.”

He leaned in to kiss you again—until your phone buzzed. Again.

This time, it was Jungwon’s mate.

best girl [7:20 PM]: HELLO the table is literally set. we’re WAITING. pls come before ni-ki starts eating the candles.

You both groaned, bursting into laughter.

“Let’s go,” you said, grabbing your bag and slipping your hand into his. “We have an audience to shock.”

“You mean impress,” Jay corrected smugly, kissing the back of your hand before leading you out the door.

Just before stepping out of the suite, Jay leaned in one more time—his hand cradling your jaw as he pressed a soft kiss to your lips. He lingered longer than he probably should have, but you didn’t mind. Your hands slid into the front of his shirt as you kissed him back, warm and sure and sweet.

When you pulled apart, his thumb grazed your cheek.

“God, you’re ravishing,” he whispered.

You laughed, breathless. “Just like you.”

The elevator ride was quiet, full of those soft looks and stupid little smiles, the kind you couldn’t wipe off even if you tried. Jay had one hand holding yours and the other stuffed in his pocket, body leaning slightly toward you like gravity itself was playing favorites.

The doors opened, and the two of you stepped out into a different world.

The sun had finally dipped below the horizon, giving way to a sky full of stars. Lanterns and fairy lights strung between palm trees danced in the breeze, while fire pits lit up the sand near the shore.

The beachfront restaurant was glowing, flames flickering and casting golden hues across everything. There were live performers by the boardwalk—someone playing acoustic guitar, a couple of dancers moving like waves—and laughter from every table filled the air like music.

And there they were: your friends. Your chaotic, perfect family.

“Finally!” Sunoo’s mate waved you over dramatically. “We were about to start a missing persons search.”

“I was two seconds away from calling the coast guard,” Jungwon’s mate added.

Ni-ki, who was mid-bite of some appetizer he’d stolen from the center platter, pointed at you both with wide eyes.

“Why do you two look like a vacation ad?”

Jay gave him a smug grin. “Because we’re happy.”

“Gross,” Ni-ki gagged.

But despite the eye-rolls, everyone lit up when you joined the group. And as Jay pulled out a chair for you like a perfect gentleman, the rest of the boys followed suit—pushing chairs in for their mates, brushing sand off seats, scooting closer to make room for elbows and chaos.

“You’d think we were in a k-drama,” Sunghoon said under his breath, but you saw the little smile he wore as he adjusted his mate’s shawl.

Heeseung leaned back, eyes drifting up to the starry sky. “Damn, it’s nice out tonight.”

“Yeah,” his mate agreed, sipping wine. “Almost makes you forget that Ni-ki tried to eat a candle earlier.”

“It looked like marshmallow wax!” Ni-ki defended, voice muffled by the bread roll in his mouth.

The whole table erupted in laughter.

“You’re going to be thirty and we’re still going to call you the baby,” Sunoo said, affectionately.

“That’s because I am the baby,” Ni-ki sniffed, flicking a piece of lettuce at Jungwon.

“You say that like it’s a flex,” Jay muttered.

“It is!” Ni-ki declared, puffing out his chest like a toddler defending their favorite blanket.

Jungwon just leaned back with a small smile, arm slung behind his mate. “Don’t worry, we’ll still tease you just as hard when you find your own mate, Ni-ki.”

“As I said, hell no,” Ni-ki said immediately. “I’m staying single forever. I’ve seen what y’all turn into—”

He gestured wildly at the group pf pureblooded Alphas helping their partners cut food, fix jewelry, pass drinks, refill plates, or in Jay’s case—who was currently leaning over to tuck your hair behind your ear with a smile so sweet it made you blush.

“—absolute whipped losers.”

Jay kissed your temple without shame. “Happy losers.”

“You’ll be one of us one day,” Jake’s mate told Ni-ki with a knowing smile.

The youngest alpha shivered dramatically. “Over my dead body.”

The laughter came easy, waves of it crashing over your little corner of paradise. You looked around at the familiar faces, the jokes that overlapped, the little touches and glances exchanged between everyone.

You felt Jay’s hand rest on your thigh under the table, giving it a gentle squeeze. When you turned to him, he was already looking at you with that soft, quiet kind of awe.

“What?” you whispered.

He leaned in, pressing his forehead to yours. “Just thinking how stupid lucky I am.”

Your heart did a full flip.

“Same,” you whispered back, lips brushing his.

And then the food arrived—plated beautifully, the scents of garlic butter, grilled meat, and warm bread snapping everyone out of their starry-eyed haze. A waiter slid a wooden board of seared steak between you and Jay, and another set down a massive tray of garlic shrimp next to Ni-ki, whose eyes lit up like Christmas.

You straightened in your seat, cheeks warm, just in time to hear Jungwon mutter across from you, “We can’t drown in steak and shrimp all night. That’s how you get greasy skin and regret.”

Jay snorted. “You sound like your dad.”

“I am my dad,” Jungwon said solemnly, lifting a fork.

You both had ordered salads earlier—more out of balance than preference. “Mine has feta cheese and baby spinach,” he said proudly, holding his plate up for a second like it was a championship belt. “You added strawberries,” Jungwon pointed at your bowl with a grimace, lifting his fork like it offended him.

“They’re balsamic-glazed,” you countered coolly, tossing your hair over your shoulder. “It’s gourmet, you can’t compete.”

“I can and I will.”

“You’re delusional,” you replied, already picking up your fork and motioning a dramatic switch. “Let’s trade for a second. Just so you can finally realize you’re wrong.”

“Oh, I’m wrong?”

Around the table, your little argument was clearly entertaining. Sunoo was chuckling behind his napkin, Heeseung was recording the whole banter, while Ni-ki—mouth full of shrimp—just mumbled, “God, they’re both so stubborn.”

But just as you and Jungwon leaned over the table, balancing forks and exchanging plates to exchange bites, a sudden voice chimed in—bright, musical, and unfamiliar.

“You’re glowing. Come! Come!”

A hand appeared at your arm before you could react, gently tugging you from your seat.

“Wait—what—?”

Before you knew it, a woman dressed in vibrant orange and red was leading you toward the stage-like dance platform built into the sand just a few feet from the restaurant tables. Laughter erupted behind you.

Another performer had already snatched Jungwon’s mate, and a third was tugging on Jay’s arm, urging him to follow you with a playful, “You too, handsome!”

Jay stood with zero hesitation, eyes fixed on you like he couldn’t let you out of his sight for more than a second. “Guess we’re dancing.”

“You are not leaving me!” Jungwon barked as his mate started dragging him up next. “You know I hate—” he yelped as she kissed his cheek mid-pull—“—dancing.”

“You’ll live!” she laughed.

Within moments, the stage was alive. The wooden floor was warm under your feet, the lights overhead casting gold and amber glows over everything. The song thumping like a heartbeat into the night. Drums, horns, guitars, and claps filled the air as the performers began spinning, clapping, moving around you with infectious joy.

You moved instinctively, hair flying around your shoulders, hips swaying with the rhythm. Your white skirt flowed with each step, golden jewelry catching glints of light as you raised your arms and let go. And that’s when Jay forgot everything.

The music. The people. The polished table he’d left behind. Even the fact that just a few feet away, Jungwon was being twirled by his mate, canine peeking out as he laughed and tried not to trip over his own feet.

Normally, Jay would’ve never let him live that down—he would’ve teased him about the flush crawling up his neck, the way he was clearly embarrassed but still going along with it.

But not tonight.

Because Jay’s gaze was fixed on you.

You, spinning in the amber light like you belonged to the sea and sky both. You, radiant and glowing, your lips, full and glossed, were curved in the kind of smile that made something in his chest physically ache.

Your hair fluttered in the ocean breeze, strands catching the wind with every spin, every laugh, every head toss that made your gold accessories catch the light and shimmer like they were part of you.

Goddess. That was the only word that came to mind.

You looked like a goddess.

You looked divine.

The prime example of a perfect Omega. No, his Omega.

Jay stood frozen on the edge of the stage, jaw slack, heart pounding. He looked utterly and entirely wrecked. And then—slowly, like pulled by gravity he couldn’t fight—he stepped forward.

His feet moved before his brain caught up.

He didn’t care if people saw. Didn’t care if someone whispered about Park Jongseong, heir to an empire, dancing on a beach stage like some love-struck idiot. Didn’t care if the cameras snapped, if the council caught wind, if it got printed on some gossip page tomorrow.

Let them talk.

All he cared about was you.

He reached you in a daze, hands sliding around your waist like they’d been waiting for this exact moment. His fingers splayed over your hips, thumbs brushing against the exposed skin beneath your top, eyes drinking you in like he hadn’t seen you in years—like you were the most intoxicating thing in the world.

You turned your head slightly in surprise, smiling when you realized it was him. He looked at you. Like you hung the stars. Like he was completely, unapologetically, catastrophically in love.

“Hi…” you breathed, unsure whether to laugh or melt into him.

But you didn’t need to say anything else.

He pulled you closer with ease, your bodies molding together as the beat picked up again. You moved with him, spinning just slightly, your hands bracing his shoulders as his found your waist again—confident, possessive, in awe.

His gaze never broke from yours, not even as your hair flew again, brushing against his cheeks, not even as the stage swayed with laughter and movement around you. He moved with you like he’d been dancing this dance for years. Like his body had memorized yours long before this night even began.

The cheers from the crowd only grew louder. Some from your table, some strangers now clapping to the beat, watching the way Jay held you like a man who knew what he had—and wasn’t ever letting go.

His lips brushed your ear, breath hot and reverent.

“I’m so gone for you,” he murmured.

And god, he was.

Down to the bone.

Down to the softest part of him that he never let anyone see.

He dipped you suddenly, catching your weight with ease, the edge of your skirt brushing the floor, your hair cascading in the light like a waterfall of ink. You gasped, both at the move and at the look in his eyes when he hovered above you.

Not just desire.

Devotion.

He pulled you back up with that same effortless grace, holding you steady even as your knees wobbled slightly from the dip and the rush of it all.

You grinned at him, breathless. “You’re insane.”

Jay smirked, forehead falling to yours. “For you? Always.”

As the music finally slowed, a new beat taking over, softer and slower now, the two of you stayed there for a second—foreheads pressed, the world shrinking into nothing but the warmth between you. Then Jay pulled back, brushing your hair from your face with the gentlest flick of his fingers.

You hadn’t even fully turned around yet when you heard the deafening noise coming from your table.

“Go Jay! That’s my best friend!” Sunoo’s voice rang out above everything else, his clap echoing as he jumped to his feet.

Heeseung choked on his drink, nearly dropping his glass. “This is love, people! Do you see that?! This is what Shakespeare wrote about!”

Jake banged the table with both palms, voice hoarse from yelling. “I knew it! I called it first!”

“No, I did,” Sunghoon argued, which was rich coming from him, considering he was practically standing on his chair—his usual cold, unreadable expression long gone as he cupped his hands around his mouth. “I always said Jay was down bad for her.”

Ni-ki wasn’t even watching the scene anymore; he was working double-time, phone in one hand, a camera strapped to the other like some kind of paparazzi. “Everyone move! I need a clear shot! Okay, now kiss—wait, let me get this angle...”

The girls screamed like you had just walked the carpet at Cannes.

Sunoo’s mate gripped his hand, practically yanking his arm off as they jumped up and down together. “That’s my best friend too!”

Heeseung’s mate clutched his arm, pressing her face into his bicep as she let out a long, dreamy sigh. “They look like they stepped straight out of a romance movie.”

Heeseung just nodded as he calmed down, misty-eyed. “This is so real. This is soulmates. No one talk to me.”

Jake’s mate threw her head back laughing, covering her mouth with both hands. “Jay is so down bad, and I have never seen Jungwon look more flustered.”

Sunghoon’s mate nearly collapsed into Jake’s as they leaned against each other. “Those men are in love.”

Behind you, soft laughter spilled through the air as the music slowly faded.

Jungwon was hovering just a few feet away, his posture tense, entire face flushed red. His mate had her arms around his shoulders, soothing him with a hand in his hair. Jungwon had ducked down—his chin pressed to her shoulder, nose buried in her scent, his height folded awkwardly so he could hide behind her like a kid clinging to his comfort blanket.

“I bared my canines like some flustered puppy.” Jungwon muttered.

“You looked adorable,” his mate said, holding back a giggle.

“Stop,” he groaned, ears red and canines still slightly peeking out in a shy grin. “I twirled. I twirled and now Ni-ki has footage.”

He tightened his grip around his mate’s waist as Jay and you began walking back toward the table, your hands still tangled, smiles still evident on your faces.

Jungwon muttered through gritted teeth, “I’m never hearing the end of this.”

“Just wait until Ni-ki posts these online,” his mate teased.

“Kill me now.”

You passed them with a laugh, bumping shoulders with the younger Alpha, your tone light. “You looked good out there, Mr. President.”

“I—” Jungwon didn’t even finish. He just whimpered and buried himself deeper into his mate’s shoulder.

Jay raised a brow, smirking. “The twirl was nice. We should duet sometime.”

“LEAVE ME ALONE.”

You were mid-laugh, just turning back toward the table with Jungwon and his mate when a gentle tug stopped you in your tracks. Jay’s hand found yours easily, fingers lacing between yours with the kind of confidence that could only come from someone who’s been dying to hold you like this for longer than he’d ever admit.

“Wait,” he said lowly, already stepping closer, his voice practically vibrating against your skin. “Didn’t we say we were gonna go back inside to order those extra margaritas?”

You blinked, confused. “We—what? No, we didn’t—”

Jay didn’t even let you finish. “Yeah, we did. During that second spin—you said, ‘remind me to get more drinks later, okay?’” He was trying so hard not to smile, eyes glinting with mischief.

“I—Jay, I literally said ‘remind me to not trip in these heels,’ and you said ‘bet.’”

He was already dragging you backward with a grin, pulling you toward the main hall of the venue and away from the lingering stares and blinding phone flashes. “Close enough. Come on.”

You rolled your eyes but didn’t resist. Not even for a second.

“Sunoo’s going to yell at us,” you muttered, casting a quick glance over your shoulder where the others were already halfway to your table.

You raised a brow but didn’t ask. The way his hand tightened in yours was answer enough.

You let him lead you inside—through the double doors and around the corner, past the bar where laughter echoed and waiters still weaved between tables. He didn’t stop until you were in one of the quieter corridors near the side balcony, where the golden lights dimmed and the noise of the restaurant dulled behind thick velvet curtains.

The moment you stepped outside, the wind caught your hair.

It was warm, a soft breeze carrying the scent of salt and citrus and fresh linen from the tablecloths inside. The ocean was barely visible beyond the courtyard, but you could hear it—soft, steady waves brushing against the edge of the world.

Jay let go of your hand only to step behind you, his arms easily wrapping around your waist as he pulled you into his chest. You could feel the steady beat of his heart against your back, the way his chin gently dropped to rest on your shoulder.

His fingers grazed along the fabric of your skirt, the rings on his hands catching faint moonlight as they curled gently against your sides.

“Sorry for stealing you,” he murmured against your ear.

“You’re not sorry.”

“No, I’m not.”

You smiled softly, arms covering his as you let your head fall back onto his shoulder. “What’s this really about?”

Jay was quiet for a second. Then, voice low and so full of something you couldn’t name just yet, he whispered, “I wanted to see you without the noise. Just you. No lights, no cheers, no cameras. Just… you.”

Your heart jumped.

“You had me,” you said, barely above a whisper.

“I did,” he said. “But I needed you like this.”

You turned in his arms slowly, letting his hands trail from your waist to your back, and finally to your face. His thumb brushed your cheek, the look in his eyes so raw you almost couldn’t hold it.

“You looked divine out there,” he whispered.

“You made me feel like it.”

He leaned in slowly, forehead brushing against yours. “You are.”

You weren’t sure who leaned in first.

Maybe it didn’t matter—because the second your lips met, the world quieted.

It wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t showy or eager or for anyone else’s eyes.

It was slow and soft.

His hand settled behind your head, thumb resting just beneath your ear, while the other wrapped securely around your waist. You could feel every inch of him against you—broad, strong, Alpha—and yet somehow he held you like porcelain.

And then, like a tide rolling in, you felt his scent bloom.

Sandalwood and tequila.

Familiar and calming. Wild and warm. It flooded around you, sweet and musky and comforting, laced with something richer—something unmistakably him. You leaned into it without hesitation, like breathing him in was second nature.

Jay pulled away only slightly, forehead resting against yours. His breath mingled with yours, and for a moment, he didn’t speak—he just smiled. Soft, stunned. Like he still couldn’t believe this was real.

“You smell like me,” he murmured after a beat, lips brushing your skin as he spoke.

You blinked up at him, dazed. “Jay…”

“I—sorry,” he chuckled under his breath. “Didn’t mean to… scent you. At least not now. I just… couldn’t help it.”

You smiled, dizzy and warm. “It’s okay. I like it.”

His eyes searched yours for something. Something unspoken. Something sacred.

And then—

“God, we’re so gross.”

You blinked. “What?”

“I mean, look at us,” he said, half-laughing as he leaned back a bit to really look at you—still in his arms, cheeks flushed, lips kiss-swollen. “Scented. Kiss-drunk. Cuddling on a balcony like we’ve been married ten years.”

You giggled into his chest. “You do realize we’ve only been dating for like… one? Two days?”

“Two,” he corrected, looking far too proud of himself. “And hey, I’m committed. I already lied to the boys and said we talked about ordering more margaritas. That’s basically a legally binding contract.”

You rolled your eyes, still smiling. “Great. So when’s the wedding?”

He grinned—slow, easy. Then softened.

“…Dunno. But I already know what your vows would sound like.”

You glanced up at him again, brows lifting. “Oh yeah?”

Jay nodded, pressing a featherlight kiss to your temple. “You’d ramble. Make fun of me halfway through. Probably cry before the end.”

“And you would black out from emotion before the officiant even got to my name.”

He chuckled, and the sound rumbled in your chest. “True.”

You let your eyes flutter shut, letting yourself sink into the quiet. The waves crashed softly below. Somewhere behind the balcony, the muffled bass of music still thudded faintly through the floor. But here, in Jay’s arms, none of it mattered.

“I feel like I’ve known you forever,” he whispered after a moment, voice barely audible over the wind.

You blinked, your gaze meeting his.

Because he had.

Jay had known you for years.

You’d grown up together—shared the same schools, same tutors, same suffocatingly formal family galas and business banquets. You sat at opposite ends of the table, always side-eyeing each other, always pretending to be indifferent. Or annoyed. Or too good to care.

But you did.

God, you both did.

So when he spoke again, there was no trace of hesitation in his voice—only something raw. Honest.

“I know it’s only been two days of… this,” he said, gesturing faintly between you. “But I’ve known you my whole life. I know how you get annoyed when someone doesn’t listen to you. Like really listen. You do this thing with your mouth—like you’re chewing back the urge to scream.”

You huffed a small laugh. You did do that.

“And I know you fix your hair a certain way when we attend board meetings. Always the same twist behind your ear, always neat, because you want them to take you seriously. Because you think they’ll underestimate you otherwise.”

Your breath hitched—because he noticed that?

Jay leaned in, his forehead brushing against yours again, eyes never leaving yours.

“I’ve always noticed.”

He kept going, smiling like he couldn’t stop himself even if he tried. “You do that little dance when you taste something you really like. You bounce a bit, right foot, then left, and your eyes light up like you just discovered magic. You did it in the plane with the mango mousse and I nearly lost my mind.”

You gaped. “I do not dance.”

“You do,” he grinned. “And it’s criminally adorable.”

You buried your face into his chest with a groan as he chuckled and hugged you tighter.

“I know you think this happened too fast,” he murmured, “but tell me this wasn’t always going to happen. Tell me we didn’t always end up here.”

You didn’t speak. You didn’t have to.

The look in your eyes said everything.

Jay smiled softly, fingers brushing against your waist. “The heir of Park Group and the heir of the (L/n) empire—caught scenting each other on a balcony. We’re gonna be tomorrow’s headline.”

You laughed through your nose. “'Childhood rivals turn lovers at tropical summit—wedding bells in sight?'”

He gave you a pointed look. “You just gave the press their title.”

“Think they’ll include how you spun me like a princess on the dance floor?”

Jay tilted his head, smirking. “If they’re lucky.”

You giggled again—then stilled when his expression softened, completely, completely sincere.

“But I don’t care,” he said, thumb sweeping gently along your cheekbone. “About the articles. The attention. The mess. I’d go through all of it. Every headline. Every interrogation. Every legacy war our families throw at us.”

“If it means I get to end up with you, I’d do it again. A hundred times over.”

You didn’t think. You just kissed him.

And this time, it wasn’t just soft. It was sure. Like everything you’d run from was finally something you wanted to run toward. His arms wrapped fully around you, pulling you closer, and his scent—sandalwood and tequila—curled around your senses again, familiar and heady and yours.

“I hated you for so long,” you whispered into the space between his lips. “I thought you were arrogant and reckless and infuriating.”

“I was,” he agreed, smiling. “Still kind of am.”

“And still,” you whispered, brushing your nose against his, “here I am.”

He laughed gently, pressing his lips to your forehead. “Here you are.”

And under the stars, wrapped in his arms, with the scent of him buried into your skin and the sea humming below, you felt something that had never made sense before.

Maybe it was always supposed to be him.

And maybe he’d always known.

Jay pressed one last kiss to the crown of your head. The type that said everything words couldn’t.

“Let’s make them talk,” he murmured against your hair, “Let them write a thousand headlines, start a million rumors. Let them say we’re insane for falling so fast—”

“Let them say we’ve always been in love,” you whispered, smiling up at him. “Because maybe we have.”

He exhaled a quiet laugh, pulling you closer still, like he wanted to imprint the moment into his soul.

The wind swayed gently around you both, soft and salty. The world faded to a low murmur—somewhere behind you, laughter echoed from the beach, glasses clinked, music shifted. But here, with his arms around your waist and your forehead pressed to his chest, everything felt still.

The kind of still that comes after the storm.

The kind of still that feels like peace.

And maybe this was what peace looked like. Not silence, not stillness—but him. Jay. The boy you grew up with. The boy you hated. The man who kissed you like he couldn’t believe you were real. The man who knew you better than anyone ever had.

The one you were no longer afraid to fall into.

“I’m yours, you know,” you said softly, not quite sure where the words came from—but they were true.

Jay looked down at you, eyes shining, no trace of his usual cool arrogance. Just warmth. Just you.

“Yeah,” he said, voice low, “and I’ve always been yours.”

You didn’t need to say anything else.

Not when his fingers slid between yours. Not when you both stood there, pressed close, breathing in the scent of forever. Not when the world buzzed on without you.

Because in that moment, it was just you and him.

Two broken pieces that had finally found where they fit.

And for once in your lives, you didn’t hold back.

⤷ read part 1 here !

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