[thisisalwaysthat]

⁺⿻ you're the headliner in all my dreams & the goalkeeper of all my memories ❤︎ ౨ৎ ⸝⸝ 愛 𝒮eoa's nav . . ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀about ⠀ ⠀ collection ⠀ ⠀ recent ⠀ ⠀ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ໒꒱

[ikeuzito]

SUGARCOATED

(박종성) ✶ fem!reader

synopsis: you're moving into your college apartment when a handsome guy helps you with your heavy boxes on the stairs. He turns out to be Jay, your older neighbor — a lawyer who quickly becomes part of your new life. He listens to you ramble for hours but never offers much about himself, and you tell yourself it's fine, that everyone has boundaries. Being with him feels too right to question, so you let yourself fall anyway, completely lost in him and blind to what's right in front of you until it's too late.

includes: student!reader x lawyer!jay, age gap (not specified), neighbors to lovers (?), lots of domestic fluff mixed with rough sex, slow-burn buildup before the smut, explicit sexual content (mdni), big dick jay, size kink (emphasis on thickness, length, belly bulge, stretching, etc.), cockwarning, unprotected sex, creampie, breeding kink, praise kink, multiple orgasms, spitting in mouth, overstimulation, oral (f. & m. receiving), fingering, riding, missionary, spooning sex, car sex, doggy, spanking (punishment), manhandling, dirty talk, nipple play, soft dom!jay, brief mean dom jay, aftercare, pet names (princess & baby).

wc: 19.2k ─ a/n: ngl i'm so insecure about this... it took me forever to finish because i was running out of creativity and kept giving up, but i finally did it! really hope you guys like it anyways. i'd really appreciate any feedback! happy reading <33

comment here to join the tag list! .𝜗𝜚 ݁˖

You have been waiting for this moment for months, even years. You are finally moving out. It is because of college, but still, it is a new beginning far from home — a brand-new chapter in your own space. A mix of excitement and nervousness settles in your chest, because living alone requires a lot of responsibility, and you are not sure if you are ready to handle it all.

For the past five minutes, you have been staring at the mountain of boxes crammed into the trunk and backseat of your car like a game of Tetris. You are wondering how you are going to carry so many boxes up to the third floor where your apartment is. With a deep breath, you finally grab one of the boxes, and immediately stagger under its weight.

"Maintenance. Sorry for the inconvenience" reads the sign taped to the elevator doors.

Drops of sweat form on your temples, down the back of your neck, and pool on your spine, making your shirt stick to your skin. Of course it would be hot as hell on the day of your move, and of course the elevator wouldn't be working — talk about lucky.

You take another deep breath, hug the box against your chest, and begin climbing the stairs slowly, careful not to lose your balance.

Your arms are trembling and your breathing is almost as heavy as the box by the time you finally reach the first floor, forcing you to set it down for a moment to rest. But just as you pick it up again, mentally preparing for the next flight of stairs, the sound of footsteps coming down from above catches you off guard.

A man is coming down the stairs. He’s tall, wearing a button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing the prominent veins on his forearms. His jaw is sharp — probably sharper than any knife you’ve ever seen. He looks so put-together that you suddenly feel embarrassed by your sweaty face and disheveled state.

Seeing you, he stops immediately, his eyebrows furrowing with mild concern. "Whoa. Let me help you with that." His voice is low and smooth, the kind of voice that sends a shiver down your spine before you can stop it.

You blush, heat rising from your neck to your cheeks. "Oh, you don’t have to. I can manage—"

"I insist," he replies gently, waiting with his hands hovering, giving you the choice. You let him take the box, and the relief is immediate — your arms practically sing in gratitude. He lifts it as if it weighs nothing, cradling it against his chest with just one arm — the same box you were struggling to carry with both. "I’m Jay, by the way."

You quickly wipe the sweat from your forehead and try to fix your hair because you want to look at least a little presentable for the incredibly good-looking man helping you. "Thank you so much. I’m y/n. I’m moving in today, to apartment 3B."

Jay’s expression softens, and a warm smile spreads across his face. "3B? That’s interesting. I live right next door, in 3A." He nods toward the stairs. "Looks like we’re neighbors." He gestures ahead. "After you."

You both climb the remaining stairs together and your heart still pounding. You can’t tell if it’s from the physical effort earlier or from his company. Because of the nerves, the words start tumbling out before you can stop them.

"I’m starting college this week. I got accepted and everything, and I was so excited when I found this apartment. It’s the first time I’ve ever lived away from home, so I’m really thrilled… but also kind of terrified? Like, what if I get lost on campus? What if my classes are way harder than I expected? I brought way too much stuff, I’m kind of attached to my things, you know?" You let out a breathless laugh. "Sorry, I’m probably talking too much. I get really chatty when I’m nervous."

Jay glances at you as you walk, the box still balanced effortlessly in his arms. He doesn’t look annoyed — in fact, he seems amused, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "You’re not talking too much. It’s a big change, but you’re doing great."

You bite your lower lip, watching him as you climb. There is something intriguing about him that sparks your curiosity. "And you? Are you a student too, or…?"

He chuckles softly, shaking his head. "No, I’ve already graduated. I work at a company downtown." He says it casually, offering no further details — which only makes you even more curious.

You reach the landing of the second floor and have to stop to catch your breath, while Jay doesn’t even seem slightly winded — it’s honestly impressive. "My parents helped me pack my bags, but they’re hours away now. It’s exciting, though. New city, new people. I just hope I don’t ruin everything."

"You won’t," Jay says gently. "Everyone feels like that at the beginning. The nervousness is normal. Besides, you seem like you have a good head on your shoulders. You’ll find your rhythm." He sets the box down carefully in front of your door. "Ready for another round?"

The words hit you like a spark. "Ready for another round." And before you can help it, your mind immediately drifts, imagining Jay on top of you, his strong body pressing you into the mattress, that same low voice murmuring the question against your neck while his hands pinned your wrists above your head. Heat flooded your face and settled lower in your belly.

You quickly shake your head, trying to push the thought away, desperately hoping your blush isn't too obvious. "Yes, let's do it."

He carries the rest of the boxes for you, going up and down the stairs multiple times. Meanwhile, you keep rambling nonstop about what you are studying, where you are from, and how you are feeling about this new phase of your life. He listens as if he genuinely cares, and even though you can’t quite place the age difference between you two, you feel surprisingly comfortable with him.

When the last box finally makes it through the door, you stand in the hallway with a grateful smile. "Thank you so much, Jay. Honestly. I don’t know what I would have done without you."

"Glad I could help. Moving is a big step. If you need anything else, I’m right next door." With that, he returns to his own apartment, leaving you surrounded by a sea of boxes that will clearly take hours to unpack.

A few days pass. You unpack — not everything, just the most important things. Your first classes are overwhelming. You get lost twice, accidentally walk into the wrong lecture hall, and sit through an entire lecture on quantum physics before realizing your mistake. But as embarrassing as it was, that mistake ended up leading you to a guy named Jake, who turned out to be incredibly nice and cute.

Now you are standing outside Jay’s door with a plate of cupcakes in your hands, ready to properly thank him for helping you with the move. The thing is, you can’t really bake; you tried making the cupcakes yourself but ended up burning the batch, so you had to go to the bakery on the corner to buy a box of them instead. They look a bit too professional, but since he doesn't know about your complete lack of kitchen skills, you're confident he won't suspect a thing — especially since you took them out of the box and arranged them nicely on a plate just to be extra safe.

You knock on his door, your heart pounding hard in your chest. He opens it a moment later, and his face lights up when he sees you. "Hey, neighbor," he says, leaning against the doorframe. "How are classes going?"

"Good," you reply, pushing the plate forward with a little too much force. "Great, actually. I only got lost twice today, which is an improvement." Your smile widens. "I brought these for you. For helping me with the move. I made them myself."

He looks at the cupcakes, then back at you, this time raising an eyebrow. "You made these?"

"Yes," you say, nodding firmly with your chin held high, trying to look confident. "From scratch. All by myself. I’m pretty good at baking."

He picks up one of the cupcakes and examines it, narrowing his eyes as he brings it closer to his face. You feel your determination starting to crumble.

"Really?" he asks with a smile, clearly testing how long you will keep up the lie. "From scratch?"

You hold his gaze for three whole seconds before you look away in embarrassment. Your shoulders drop and your face turns as red as a tomato. "Okay, fine. I bought them at the bakery on the corner. I took them out of the box so you would think I’m a functional adult who knows how to bake." You laugh at yourself. "I tried making them the other day, Jay. I set off the smoke alarm. I’m a danger to this entire building."

He throws his head back and laughs — not mocking you, but with a genuine, warm laugh that makes you feel less embarrassed about pretending you had baked the cupcakes. "Oh my God, you actually burned them?"

"I once burned noodles. I’m a total disaster in the kitchen."

He steps aside, still smiling, and gestures for you to come in. "Alright, come in. I’ll split one of these ‘homemade’ cupcakes with you. It’s the least I can do for someone who put so much effort into the task."

Your mom’s voice whispers in the back of your mind: "Don’t talk to strangers and definitely don’t go into their apartments, sweetheart." But is he really a stranger? He is your neighbor who carried all your boxes without complaining, and the way he stands there holding the plate of cupcakes with that smile makes you not hesitate at all.

You follow him inside. He leads you to the kitchen, grabs two small plates, and carefully unwraps a vanilla cupcake, splitting it in half before sliding one piece toward you.

"Have a seat," he says, pointing to the stool by the kitchen island.

"So, you mentioned you work downtown? What exactly do you do?" you ask as you sit down.

"I’m a lawyer," he replies, taking a bite of his half and nodding in approval. "Good choice of bakery, by the way."

You laugh, biting into yours. "A lawyer. That makes a lot of sense. You have this… I don’t know how to say it without sounding weird, but you have this organized vibe. Like you’re really good at arguing without even raising your voice."

His smile widens. "People have definitely told me that before that I have a ‘courtroom voice.’ It’s just my normal voice, only lower and slower. People tend to listen when you don’t yell."

"You’ll have to show me someday. If I ever get in legal trouble, I’ll know exactly who to call."

"Please don’t get in legal trouble. But if you do, I’m your guy."

The conversation flows just as easily as it did on moving day, and before you know it, you’re venting about your annoying professor, how massive the campus is, and all the times you’ve already managed to get lost. Between all the talking, the cupcakes completely disappear, leaving the coffee he made to sit cold and barely touched in your mug. There’s just something about him that instantly puts you at ease.

Despite the age gap, he never talks down to you or makes you feel small, which makes talking to him completely effortless. It’s just so comforting to have someone around who listens to you with that much care and attention — especially when he happens to be incredibly good-looking, leaving you totally hooked since the very first day.

As he walks you to the door when you finally get up to leave, he snatches a pen and a post-it note to scribble something down. Before you know it, he’s pressing the paper into your palm, his fingers brushing lightly against yours and sending a sudden warmth to your cheeks as he says, "Here’s my number, in case you ever need anything."

"Thank you," you say, smiling a little too wide.

He nods. "Anytime. Seriously. Don’t be a stranger."

────────

The grocery bags dig painfully into your fingers as you stand in the lobby, staring at the elevator doors that are still under maintenance. You look at them as if a miracle might happen — maybe if you stare for one more second, God will take pity and finally fix it. Nothing happens, of course, which makes you let out a long sigh of frustration. It has been days since you moved in and the elevator is still not working.

Your arms already hurt from carrying way too many bags. You definitely should have made two trips, but stubbornness won.

Reaching the second floor is pure torture; your arms are burning, those plastic handles are digging right into your palms, and the bags keep swinging awkwardly against your legs. Trying to stop and adjust your grip only makes things worse, to the point where you're seriously considering just sitting right there on the stairs and crying.

You finally collapse against the wall at the third-floor landing, letting the bags slide to the floor just to catch your breath. Right then, the door to 3A clicks open and Jay steps out — perfectly dressed for work with that annoyingly handsome lawyer look that instantly makes your stomach do a little flip.

He sees you immediately. For a second, his eyes take in the whole scene — your flushed face, the many overloaded bags, and the way you are leaning against the wall breathing heavily. A light, amused laugh escapes him. It is not mocking, just genuinely entertained, as if he expected nothing less from you.

"Carrying heavy stuff again?" he asks, walking toward you. "You really don’t learn, do you?"

Before you can even open your mouth to protest, he is already reaching for the bags, picking them all up at once as if they weigh absolutely nothing. His strong arms support the weight so effortlessly that his biceps press against the fabric of his dress shirt, making it completely impossible for you not to stare.

He turns and walks toward your door, carrying everything like it is nothing.

At your doorstep, Jay sets all the bags down carefully against the wall and turns to face you. His expression is calm, almost unreadable, but there is something more in it. You understand it the moment he starts speaking in a gently scolding tone. "You really shouldn’t carry so much at once," he says, crossing his arms. "It’s not safe and it’s clearly too heavy for you. Make two or three trips next time. Look at your hands, they’re all red. You were hurting yourself. Why? Because you’re way too stubborn, huh?"

You glance down at your palms, and they are red where the plastic handles dug in. "I was fine," you say, though even you do not believe it. "I almost made it."

"Don’t be stubborn."

"You sound exactly like my dad," you reply, crossing your arms to mimic him. "He’s always telling me I’m too stubborn for my own good."

Jay’s lips curve into a small smile. "Because you really are," he says with so much certainty that you cannot even argue back. "I’m serious. Next time, make multiple trips or just text me. I’d rather help than watch you struggle like that."

There is a protective tone in his voice that makes your cheeks warm with a mix of embarrassment and something else stirring low in your stomach. He is lecturing you like a child, but somehow it sounds kind of hot coming from him.

Then he glances at the grocery bags again. Now that the scolding is over, he seems to actually pay attention to what is inside them. He picks one up and looks inside — it is full of frozen meals, instant noodles, ultra-processed food, and canned goods. "Look, I know you’re in college now, but that doesn’t mean you have to live on processed food. It’s quick, sure, but you need real fresh stuff, not just things that come out of a can. Eating like this long-term isn’t good for you. You could get sick."

You blink, caught off guard by the extra lecture. He is fully in dad-mode now, and there is something strangely attractive about how seriously he takes it, like he is genuinely worried about you. "Okay, okay. I get it… I already told you I’m a disaster in the kitchen, so I just grabbed whatever is easiest so I don’t starve."

Jay’s expression softens a little. "I’m not trying to scold you. I just know how easy it is to fall into bad habits when you’re living on your own for the first time." He pauses and adds in a gentler voice, "If you ever need help in the kitchen, you know where to find me. I’m not exactly a chef, but I know how to make real meals."

Your mind wanders again because you can’t help it — you picture him in your kitchen, standing right behind you while teaching you how to cook, his hands guiding yours, the warmth of his body against your back…

"I’ll try to do better, I swear. Thanks for helping again. I think I owe you something now. How about brownies as a thank you this time?"

Jay shakes his head, chuckling softly. "You don’t owe me anything. Just be more careful next time." He glances at the heavy bags one more time. "Need help carrying these inside?"

You shake your head quickly. "I can handle it from here. I bet you’re busy, you look like you’re heading to work."

He checks the watch on his wrist. "Yeah, I have a meeting soon, but the offer stands anytime." Before turning to leave, he gives you one last firm look. "Take care of yourself."

After he leaves, you drag the bags inside, one half first and then the other, just like Jay suggested.

That night, you are sprawled on the couch, scrolling through your phone, when you open your contacts. You saved Jay’s number, of course, but you have been telling yourself you don’t need to text him. It is an emergency-only number, but then you think about him carrying your groceries, the effortless way he took them from you, and the gentle scolding in his voice. Before you can overthink it, you are already typing a message to him.

────────

It is already past midnight and you have been staring at the same page of your textbook long enough for your vision to blur. Your brain has officially given up — it is impossible to absorb a single word more after hours of studying.

You are about to slam the book shut to take out your stress on it and drag yourself to bed when a soft knock sounds at the door. Your heart jumps slightly because you were not expecting anyone, especially not at this hour.

Another knock.

You get up slowly, stretching your sore muscles, and walk to the door. When you open it, Jay is standing there, looking different tonight without his formal work clothes and lawyer posture. He is wearing a simple white t-shirt, gray sweatpants, and is barefoot. He looks relaxed, holding a bottle of red wine — as if he made the sudden decision to knock on your door and came straight over without even putting shoes on.

"Hey," he says, his low voice making your stomach flip. His eyes scan over you, taking in your tired face, messy hair, and pajamas. Something in his expression softens.

"Hey," you reply softly, matching his tone.

"Hey," he repeats, then laughs when he realizes what he just did.

"Hey," you answer again, this time with a small smile. "You already said that."

"I know." He laughs again, shaking his head. "I just… it’s late."

"Very late."

"I know." He lifts the bottle slightly. "I bought this earlier today but… it’s no fun drinking alone."

You look at the wine, then back at him. The way he is standing there — messy hair, ridiculously handsome, and a little too soft — makes going back to bed suddenly seem like a very stupid choice. "Are you inviting me to drink with you?"

"I’m asking if you want to take a break. From everything."

The way he looks at you with those inviting eyes makes the decision easy, but you decide to tease him first. "I don’t usually drink with strangers."

"We’re not strangers," he says, his voice soft. Your teasing does not seem to faze him.

"We’re not exactly friends either," you reply, tilting your head and studying his reaction.

The corner of his mouth lifts into a small, almost lazy smile. "Then let’s change that."

You pretend to consider it for a moment, even though you were already fully committed the second you saw him at your door. "Mmm, okay. But let’s do it at your apartment. Mine is a mess."

His smile widens, crinkling the corners of his eyes. "Alright, whatever you want."

You grab your keys and follow him, also barefoot, to the door next to yours. His apartment is clean and organized as always, which makes the space feel strangely comforting. In the kitchen, he pours two glasses of wine and hands you one, his fingers brushing against yours for half a second and sending a spark through your body.

"Cheers," he says, raising his glass.

"Cheers," you repeat, gently clinking your glass against his.

You take a sip and let out a small, involuntary hum of appreciation — it is much better than you expected, probably the most expensive wine you have ever tasted. He gestures toward the living room. "Come on, let’s sit," he says, leading the way to the couch. You follow and settle onto his couch, trying to look more relaxed than you actually feel.

"This is nice," you say, taking another sip.

He sits on the other end of the couch — close enough to talk comfortably, but far enough to be polite. "It’s just wine." He takes a sip, watching you over the rim of his glass.

"I mean relaxing… not thinking about classes for the first time."

He nods, understanding. "You think about classes a lot."

"It’s pretty much my entire life right now," you admit with an awkward little laugh, taking another sip.

"I remember going through that too. Everything revolving around exams, assignments, and exhausting responsibilities."

You tilt your head, studying him. "You make it sound like ancient history."

"Sometimes it feels like it." He takes a sip, not breaking eye contact. "I still remember when I was in college. I used to think a bad grade would ruin everything." A dry laugh escapes him as he shakes his head. "There’s so much pressure."

Suddenly you find yourself wanting to know more about him, drawn by the experienced tone in his voice and posture. The wine is already loosening your tongue, so you ask. "How old are you, anyway?"

A small, playful smile appears on his lips. "I’m old enough."

You narrow your eyes, trying to hold back a smile. "That’s not an answer."

"It’s the only one you’re getting." He takes another sip.

"That’s annoying," you say, leaning forward slightly and resting your elbows on your knees.

"Maybe I am annoying." He shrugs, but there is a sparkle in his eyes that tells you he is enjoying this.

"You’re avoiding the question," you accuse, pointing a finger at him.

"I’m protecting my privacy."

"From what? Your neighbor?" You laugh, raising an eyebrow.

"Especially from my neighbor."

You pout, pretending to be hurt. "Fine. Keep your secrets."

"Everyone has secrets," he says, his voice dropping to a lower, more intimate tone.

"I don’t." You are not even sure why you say it. Maybe it is the wine, or the way he is looking at you right now.

"Everyone does." He holds his ground. "You have secrets too."

Your pulse quickens. "I don’t."

"Yes, you do."

You swallow hard. The air between you feels thicker now, charged with something you can’t quite name. You shift slightly on the sofa and notice how easy it would be to reach out and touch him. "So you have a lot of secrets, huh?" you ask, curious.

"Yes. Quite a few."

"Like what?" you press, wanting to see what he will give you.

"If I told you, they wouldn’t be secrets anymore." His lips curve into a slow, almost predatory smile.

"Touché." You raise your glass in an ironic toast, making him laugh.

A comfortable but heavy silence settles between you for a moment, thick with tension as you exchange glances and take slow sips. The wine is definitely doing its job — making your words come out slower, your laughter easier, and your body warmer.

"How old are you?" he asks, breaking the silence.

You blink, caught off guard. "Me?"

"Yes, you." He leans forward slightly, resting his elbows on his knees. "You asked me, so I’m asking you back."

You smile, deciding to play his game. "I’m old enough."

A low, surprised laugh escapes him — rich and genuine. "That’s my line."

"I know." You take another sip to hide your smile.

"You stole my line."

You just shrug. "I borrowed it."

"That’s not how borrowing works."

"Yes, it is."

He laughs again. "You’re impossible."

"Am I? What else?" You raise an eyebrow, challenging him.

"You’re something," he says, his voice dropping again.

"What?" You are not sure what he means by that.

"I don’t know yet." He keeps his eyes fixed on you. "But I’m figuring it out."

You feel your cheeks heat up and take another sip of wine to try to hide your reaction. Jay, however, keeps watching you, and you can tell he noticed.

"You know what I’ve noticed?" By now your voice is a little slurred, so you have to be careful with the words that come out of your mouth.

"What?" His wine glass is almost empty. He sets it on the coffee table and turns all of his attention to you.

You lean back on the couch, turning to face him more directly. Your knee brushes against his thigh, but neither of you pulls away. "You don’t talk much about yourself."

He tilts his head, frowning slightly. "Don’t I?"

"No. You listen, but you don’t share. Like, you’re dodging right now. You give answers, but you don’t really answer."

"Well, I’m trying to protect myself," he says simply.

"Protect yourself from what?" You lean forward, genuinely curious now.

"From getting too attached." The words are honest, and you definitely were not expecting them.

You stare at him, your hand frozen halfway to taking another sip. "From what?"

"To you." His voice is almost a whisper, making your pulse race and your skin flush.

"Why would you get too attached to me?"

He stays silent for a moment, his eyes tracing over you as if he wants to memorize every detail. "Because it’s easy to get attached to you."

"No, it's not," you say, shaking your head as a small, incredulous laugh escapes you.

"It is." His voice is gentle but firm, leaving no room for argument. "You just don’t see it."

You look away, feeling your entire body grow warmer. "You’re dodging again."

"I’m being honest." He leans forward slightly, and you can smell him now — a masculine scent mixed with the light sweetness of the wine.

You set your glass on the coffee table and turn to face him completely, the wine making you bolder. "You’re giving me half-answers. You’re telling me just enough to make me curious, but not enough."

He stays quiet for a moment, thinking. "What do you want to know?"

You hold his gaze. "Something real. Truly honest."

Silence stretches between you, thick with something heavy and suffocating that you can't quite name. Then he whispers, "I think you’re beautiful."

Your breath catches, and for a second you are not sure you heard him correctly. "That’s not—" you begin, but he interrupts you.

"It’s honest."

"You can’t just say that," your voice barely comes out as a whisper.

"I just did." His gaze doesn’t leave yours for even half a second.

"It’s too… direct."

"You asked for it." He says it simply, like it is the most natural thing in the world.

"You’re a tease," you say, not sure if you are complaining or not.

"Wait until you find out what else I am. You want to know me? Then make sure you’re ready."

You do not know what to say or what to do, so you look away, your face burning.

When he finally walks you to your door, you are a little unsteady on your feet. He steadies you with a gentle hand on your waist, and the touch is enough to send shivers through your body. "I’m fine," you murmur, even though you are swaying slightly.

"You’re drunk," he says, smiling at your messy state.

"I’m a little tipsy," you reply, giving him a blurry-eyed look.

"You’re drunk."

"It’s the same thing," you mutter dismissively.

"No, it’s not." He is looking at you with that warm, steady gaze that makes your knees feel weak.

You smile, light and tipsy. "Yes, it is."

At your door, you miss the lock twice. He laughs softly before helping you. "Thank you," you whisper. "For this, for the wine, the company, and everything."

His lips curve into a small, warm smile. "Good night, old enough.:

You smile again — you seem to always be smiling when he is around. "Good night, old man."

You step inside, close the door, and lean against it with your heart racing and your whole body warm from the wine and his words — still smiling like an idiot.

A few minutes later, you are curled up in bed when your phone buzz on the nightstand.

────────

You have been tossing and turning on the mattress for what feels like hours — shifting positions, turning to the other side, but nothing helps. You can’t fall asleep — you mind refuses to stop, racing with thoughts about exams, deadlines, and the weight of all your responsibilities pressing down on your shoulders. You need air, you need to feel like you are not suffocating in that apartment, surrounded by boxes you haven't even had the time to unpack yet. There are several unfinished notes on your desk that constantly remind you that you are not doing enough, no matter how hard you try.

So you go up to the rooftop. The cool night air hits your face and lets you breathe again.

The city is an endless sea of lights — countless tiny glowing points in the darkness that remind you how small you really are. You sit on the old bench near the edge of the roof, pulling your knees up to your chest and wrapping your arms around them like a shield.

Your thoughts slowly begin to calm as the minutes pass, and the knot in your chest loosens just a little.

Then the door creaks open behind you.

You turn quickly, your body instantly on alert and your heart racing. And there he is — Jay. He is wearing sweatpants and a black shirt, something about this casual, almost domestic look makes your heart skip a beat. He sees you immediately and stops. Surprise flashes across his face for a second before it turns into that familiar half-smile.

"Can’t sleep either?" His voice is low, almost intimate in a way that makes you shiver.

You shake your head. "I have too much on my mind right now…"

He nods as if he completely understands — and he really does. Walking toward you, he stops at a respectful distance before sitting on the bench beside you — close enough for you to feel the warmth of his body, but not so close that he invades your personal space. "Mind if I join you?"

"Not at all." You shift over a little even though there is already enough space.

He leans back, looking up at the sky, which is beautiful tonight with a full moon and stars shining brightly. The silence stretches between you. He doesn’t force conversation; he simply sits there observing the sky and the city with you. The silence is not awkward — it is actually comforting, especially when you are with him.

"I can’t sleep," you admit, breaking the silence with words that slip out before you can stop them. "I try, but my brain just won’t stop. Every time I close my eyes, I start thinking about all the things I have to do, all the things I haven’t done, and all the ways I’m probably going to mess everything up."

"What’s on your mind?" His voice is gentle and patient as always, showing that he is ready to listen.

"Everything." You let out a shaky sigh. "College, exams, being away from my family for the first time… It’s a lot. I thought I was ready, that I could handle it. But sometimes it feels like I’m drowning and I don’t know how to swim. Literally."

"I know how that feels," he says after a long moment of silence. His eyes stay fixed on yours, and there is something raw in them — something honest. "I remember feeling exactly like that. Like everything was too much and I was too small to handle it."

"You’re talking about yourself. That’s new," you say softly. "You always ask about me, but you never—"

"You already have enough on your plate," he cuts in gently.

You blink, caught off guard. "What?"

"You’re stressed about college, adjusting to a new city, and far from your family," he keeps his gaze steady on you, his expression sincere. "You don’t need to hear about my problems too."

"That’s not how it works." You shake your head as something warm and confusing blooms in your chest. "We’re supposed to share things. That’s what—" You pause, searching for the right word. "That’s what friends do."

"I don’t want to burden you when you’re already dealing with so much, and I certainly don’t want to make it worse."

You stay quiet for a moment, his words stirring something you cannot quite name — but it feels good. "That’s really… kind," you finally say.

"I try." He shrugs, a small smile playing on his lips.

The silence settles again, and you sit together quietly for a while longer. Then, out of nowhere, he tilts his head and asks, "How’s your succulent doing?"

You laugh at the unexpected question. "You’re asking about my plant?"

"I remember you mentioned it." He turns toward you — fully turning his body — with a small playful smile on his lips. "I bet you gave it a name."

You shake your head, still smiling. "I haven’t named it yet… but it’s still alive, which is honestly impressive."

"You’re supposed to water it," he says in a gently scolding tone.

"I know." You look away, feeling a little guilty about slowly killing a plant.

"But you forget." There is no judgment in his voice, only warm amusement.

"I forget." You laugh — something you always do when you are with him. "I have a lot on my mind, okay?"

"You’re a plant killer." He smiles, making you grin even wider.

"I’m not a plant killer! I’m just… forgetful. It is surviving, which is more than I can say about myself sometimes."

Something in your words changes his expression. It is still gentle, but now there is a hint of concern. "You’re doing better than you think."

You don’t know what to say, so you just look at him, with the words stuck in your throat.

"Does the succulent at least have company?" he asks after a moment, his voice light as always.

You blink, confused by the sudden question. "What?"

"Other plants, maybe some flowers, something to keep it company. Plants get lonely too."

You laugh, shaking your head. "I don’t think it gets lonely. It’s just a plant, after all."

"All living things have feelings. It definitely feels lonely," he says with so much conviction that you almost believe him.

"That’s not scientifically accurate," you reply, not entirely sure if what you are saying is accurate either.

"I never said it was." He shrugs. "I’m a lawyer. I deal with arguments, not facts."

"They’re the same thing."

"Not at all." He shifts closer to you on the bench, making sure you are listening. "Facts are objective. Arguments are subjective. I make a living turning subjective arguments into something that sounds like objective facts."

"That’s… something. And you’re so weird."

"I’m just concerned about your plant’s loneliness." His voice is incredibly serious, showing that he is taking this very seriously.

"You’re worried about my plant," you say, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes, just like I worry about you."

You don’t know what to say again — Jay has a way of leaving you speechless. Your cheeks flush and you look away. "I’ve never received flowers before, anyway…" you say softly, the secret slipping from your lips.

Jay is not sure he heard you correctly. "What did you say?"

Even though you hesitate, you repeat it, louder this time. "I’ve never received flowers." You look down at your hands, fidgeting with your fingers. "I had a boyfriend before, but he was an idiot. He never did anything romantic like giving me flowers or taking me for dates."

He stays silent for a long moment, his gaze fixed on you while your heart pounds loudly in your ears. He is thinking about something — you can tell by the way his jaw tightens. "Would you want to go on one? With me."

You stop breathing the moment you hear his words and everything around you seems to freeze. "What?"

"A date. A real date where I pick you up, open doors for you, and take you somewhere nice. It doesn’t have to be romantic if you don’t want it to be. It can just be two people spending time together. Whatever makes you feel comfortable."

Your heart is beating so hard you are sure he can hear it, your mouth is dry, your palms are sweaty, and the words feel stuck in your throat again. Jay is asking you out on a date — a real date. The age gap has been on your mind since the day you met — he is a lawyer and you are still trying to figure out how to live on your own, but every interaction with him feels safe, like he truly sees you.

"Jay, I—" You stop, taking a shaky breath.

"You don’t have to answer right now," he says gently, giving you time to think.

"No, I—" You take another deep breath, and this time the words come out steady. "Yes. Yes, I want that."

His face transforms — a slow, warm smile spreads across his lips and reaches his eyes, making your stomach flip and your heart race just like always.

"Great," he says softly. "I’ll plan something."

A shy laugh escapes you as the reality of it sinks in. "What do you like to do on dates? I’m sure you’ve been on plenty."

He leans forward a little, resting his elbow on his knee. "I want to know what you like. That’s what matters right now, tell me your preferences so I can plan something good for you."

As you think for a moment, you suddenly feel embarrassed by how limited your preferences are. "I’m kind of picky, honestly. I like pasta, I hate anything too spicy, and I don’t like overly sweet desserts. Oh, and I’m not a big fan of seafood unless it’s fried. Is that too much?"

Jay listens attentively, nodding as if he is absorbing every detail. "Not at all. Being picky isn’t a problem, it actually makes it easier to get it right." He pauses, a playful glint appearing in his eyes. "You know, for someone who’s a disaster in the kitchen, you have very specific opinions, princess."

The nickname lands softly between you — affectionate and teasing, with a hint of warmth. Your breath catches, your face flushes instantly, and you lower your head to hide the redness in your cheeks and the smile forming on your lips.

"I… You can’t just say that," you murmur, looking at him through your lashes.

"Why not?" He is smiling even more now, clearly enjoying your reaction. "It suits you. You have high standards and you know exactly what you want, even if you pretend you don’t."

You cover your face with both hands for a second, peeking through your fingers. "You’re going to make me regret saying yes."

"Too late," he murmurs, his voice low and affectionate. "You already said yes."

You lower your hands and meet his gaze, your heart racing in the best possible way. Jay stands up suddenly and offers you his hand. "Come on, it’s getting late and you have class tomorrow. Let’s get you back inside before you freeze."

You take his hand — which is so much bigger than yours — and let him help you up. He doesn’t let go afterward, his fingers stay intertwined with yours as you walk together toward your floor. The elevator is no longer broken, but you both take the stairs anyway, wanting to prolong the moment a little longer.

Stopping at your door, he tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear with his free hand. “I'll text you about the date,” he says softly. "We’ll pick a night that works."

You nod, still feeling a little shy about everything. "Okay… Good night, Jay."

"Good night, princess."

────────

The next day, you are more nervous than you have ever been. Every notification on your phone makes your heart skip a beat, terrified that it is Jay confirming the date. Your stomach is in knots with a mix of panic and hope, even though you want to go on this date, you are still incredibly nervous about it.

Your phone buzzes while you are in the library trying to study. "Friday at seven? I’ll take care of everything. Just be ready for a proper night out."

The words "proper night out" send a shiver through you. He is taking this seriously, treating it as something special, even though he said it didn’t have to be romantic. Still, it means something. Smiling so wide that your cheeks hurt, you text back agreeing.

When Friday finally arrives, the butterflies in your stomach refuse to calm down. In fact, they become even more restless as the time of the date gets closer. Hours before, you start getting ready — taking your time as you choose an outfit that makes you feel confident and beautiful. You spend extra time on your makeup, keeping it natural but enhancing your eyes and lips, making sure everything is perfect.

Exactly at seven, you take the elevator down. Jay had insisted on waiting outside the building instead of knocking on your door. "I want you to have the full experience," he had texted earlier, and the gesture made you smile despite your nerves. The moment you step out onto the sidewalk, you see him leaning against his sleek black car parked at the curb. He looks unfairly handsome in a tailored dark shirt and pants.

For a moment, he simply looks at you — slowly scanning from your face to your dress and back up again as his smile widens. "You look beautiful," he says, taking a step closer. "Really, truly beautiful."

Your cheeks flush quickly and a smile forms on your lips. "Thank you. You look really handsome too."

Before you can say anything else, he reaches inside the car and pulls out a beautiful bouquet of flowers. "I remembered what you said on the rooftop…"

The bouquet is perfect, wrapped so beautifully that it makes your chest tighten. "Jay…" you whisper as you reach out to take the flowers. "They’re beautiful. I don’t even know what to say."

Without thinking, you give him a grateful hug. His arms wrap around you immediately, one hand resting on your lower back while the other gently caresses the nape of your neck. "You don’t have to say anything. Just enjoy tonight. That’s all I want."

When you pull away, still smiling widely, he tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear and asks, "Ready to go, princess?"

You nod, holding the flowers like a lifeline. He opens the car door for you, waiting until you are settled before closing it gently. When he slides into the driver’s seat, he looks at you with a playful smile. "Seatbelt, please. Safety first."

You laugh and buckle up. "Such a gentleman."

"Only for you."

The drive starts peacefully, soft music playing in the background as you talk. He asks about your day and teases you lightly when you admit that you spent half of your class daydreaming about tonight and that it took you forever to choose what to wear.

You can’t stop stealing glances at him — the way his hands rest easily on the steering wheel, those large hands with long fingers, and the way he looks at you at red lights as if making sure you are still real.

After a few minutes, you notice the city lights fading and buildings giving way to trees. "Where are we going?" you ask curiously, realizing he has been driving for a while — much farther than you expected. "This is pretty far from our building. Are you taking me somewhere to kill me?"

Jay laughs, keeping his eyes on the road. "I’m not going to kill you. I’m just taking you to a place I love, and I think you’ll love it too."

The drive takes about thirty minutes, but when you finally arrive, the restaurant leaves you breathless. You immediately understand why he chose it — it is cozy and elegant, with a stunning view of the city. He reserved a intimate corner table with the perfect view.

He pulls out the chair for you, and as soon as you sit down, he leans in slightly to whisper in your ear, "Relax, okay?"

The dinner unfolds perfectly. You order pasta — creamy, exactly the way you like it — and he chooses a steak dish, offering you a bite from his fork with a raised eyebrow that feels far more intimate than it should. You talk a lot, and he listens as always, head tilted and eyes focused only on you.

You tell him about the friendships you are making in college, about the strange noise your AC is making, and absentmindedly mention the doorman. "He’s nice, I think… but sometimes he looks at me like he knows something I don’t."

Jay’s expression shifts with something unreadable for half a second, but he quickly covers it with a soft chuckle. "He’s probably just in a bad mood. Or maybe he sees how much you’re distracting your poor neighbor."

You laugh. "Poor neighbor? You seem to be handling it pretty well."

His foot brushes against yours under the table. "Barely."

In the middle of the conversation, Jay’s phone buzzes on the table. He glances at it, frowns, and silences it, slipping it into his pocket.

But a few minutes later, it buzzed again. Jay sighs. "I need to take this. It’s probably an emergency with a client. I won’t be long. I’m really sorry."

"Go ahead. I’ll be here judging the dessert menu."

He leans in and gives you a quick kiss on your temple before standing up. "I’ll be right back, princess."

The casual display of affection makes your heart race as you watch him walk away. While he is gone, you take a sip of your wine, observe the people around you, and study the dessert menu.

He returns after about five minutes, sliding back into his seat with an apologetic smile. "All sorted. Where were we?"

When the check arrives, Jay pays without hesitation, even though you offered to split it. Outside, the night air is cold, so he drapes his jacket over your shoulders when he notices you shivering. Then he pulls you closer for a moment, wrapping his arms around you. "Thank you for saying yes," he murmurs against your hair.

You look up at him, smiling. "That was the best decision I’ve made in a long time."

The drive back feels shorter than the trip there, unfortunately — you wish this moment could last forever. Jay keeps one hand on the wheel and the other holding yours, his thumb tracing lazy circles that send shivers down your spine. You arrive at the building sooner than you would like, but instead of stopping at the curb, Jay drives into the underground garage.

You unbuckle your seatbelt. "Thank you, Jay. For everything, the flowers, the dinner, the evening… I had a really great time."

He turns to you, that slow smile playing on his lips. "I’m glad, princess."

You reach for the door handle, but his hand moves quickly, wrapping around your wrist and stopping you. Your breath catches at the unexpected contact. "Wait, aren’t you going to thank me properly?"

You blink, confused. "I just did? The hug outside the restaurant and just now."

Jay chuckles, and his gaze shifts into something hungrier. "That was sweet, but I was thinking of something a little more fitting for the end of a perfect night."

Without overthinking it, you lean across the console and give him a quick kiss on the cheek. "Thank you," you whisper again, pulling back to see his reaction.

His smile widens. "Still not enough, princess. Come here."

He cups the back of your neck and pulls you closer. The kiss starts soft, his lips meeting yours hesitantly, and you quickly melt into it, which makes him deepen the kiss while still keeping a slow, deliberate pace. His tongue traces your lower lip, and you part for him with a small sigh.

What begins as one kiss turns into many, you lose count as they grow more intense, hungry, and urgent.

Somehow, you end up climbing over the console. His hands guide your hips until you are straddling his lap in the driver’s seat. The space is tight and the steering wheel presses against your back, but you couldn't care less right now. His hands roam along your sides, sliding up your dress until they rest on your thighs, his thumbs drawing circles that make you whimper against his mouth.

You kiss him again and again, tangling your fingers in his hair and tugging gently, which draws a low groan from him. That only encourages you — hips start moving on their own, pressing against the growing hardness beneath you. The friction makes you gasp, and Jay clearly loves the sight — he squeezes your thighs, encouraging your movements.

"God, you’re incredible," he whispers against your mouth between kisses. "So responsive… so perfect."

Jay pulls back just enough to meet your eyes, breathing hard. "You deserve better than this, princess. Our first time shouldn’t be in a car like a couple of impatient teenagers."

You kiss him again, more intensely, nipping at his lower lip. "I don’t care, I want you right here."

He groans, sliding his hand into your hair to pull you into another hungry kiss. "You’re so eager, princess… and so perfect grinding against me like this."

His mouth moves down to your neck, sucking lightly and drawing more whimpers from you. Your movements become restless, rubbing harder, chasing friction. "Jay…" you whisper between kisses. "I need you, please."

His hands find the hem of your dress, slowly pulling it up inch by inch with clear appreciation until he discards it onto the passenger seat. "Beautiful," he murmurs reverently as he stares at your tits. "So beautiful." He leans down, pressing hot, wet kisses along the soft skin, then his tongue circles one nipple before sucking it deeply into his mouth.

You arch your back, a moan escaping your lips. He gives the same attention to the other tit, licking, sucking, and grazing the sensitive skin with his teeth while his hand massages and caresses the first. “You taste so good,” he praises, his voice muffled. "These perfect tits in my mouth… you’re already trembling. So sensitive for me."

He kisses lower, along your sternum and ribs, then back up — worshipping every inch of you while you keep grinding against him. Your panties are soaked, and the friction against his hardness only turns you on more.

He waits until you’re trembling in his lap before he finally moves. Reaching between you, he lowers his pants and boxers just enough to free himself, and when he does, your eyes widen. He is big — thick and hard. The sight makes your mouth water and heat pool low in your belly.

Jay reaches into the glove compartment, fumbling for a condom. He tears it open and rolls it down his length with surprising skill while you watch, hypnotized and a little intimidated by his size and thickness. "You’re… really big," you say softly.

Jay notices your nervousness and caresses your cheek, trying to soothe you. "We’ll go slow, princess. I’ve got you. My good girl can take it."

He helps you shift your panties to the side, guiding you as you sink down onto him. The stretch is intense but delicious — you take him inch by inch, breathing deeply as he fills you completely, murmuring praises nonstop. "That’s it, princess… so tight, so good for me… so fucking perfect around me."

You bury your face in his neck as you sink all the way down, taking him completely until your ass is pressed firmly against his lap. "Oh God… you’re so, so big," you moan, still adjusting to the intense stretch.

The age difference flashes through your mind — he is older, more experienced, probably used to women who knew exactly what they were doing. You want to be good for him, so once you feel ready, you start moving — bouncing with almost frantic energy, desperate to please him. Your hips move and grind fast, determined.

"Easy, princess," Jay groans, gripping your hips to slow you down. "Slow… just like that. You feel incredible, but there’s no rush. I’m not going anywhere."

You moan, your cheeks burning with a mix of embarrassment and arousal. "I just… you’ve probably been with so many others who were better at this. I want to make it good for you. I want to be the best—"

He cuts you off with a deep kiss, then pulls back to look into your eyes while still guiding your movements into a slower, deeper rhythm. "Hey, none of that. It’s just you right now, and you’re already the best, baby. Look at how perfectly you take me." He thrusts up gently to emphasize his words, drawing a moan from you. "You’re my princess."

You relax into his words and the rhythm he sets, moving your hips in deep, grinding motions instead of frantic bouncing. It feels even better this way — his thickness brushing against every sensitive spot inside you. "Like this?" you ask breathlessly, your voice shy but needy.

"Just like that," he praises, his voice rough. "So good for me. So wet… so tight. You’re perfect, listen to those pretty sounds you make."

You keep whispering to him the whole time — shy confessions and soft, breathless questions. "You feel so good, Jay… I feel so full. Does it feel good for you? Tell me if you’re enjoying it."

He groans, his hands roaming over your back, squeezing your ass, then returning to your tits so he can lick and suck them while you ride him. "I love it. I love everything you do. The way you squeeze me… the way you say my name. You’re ruining me, princess."

The pleasure builds uncontrollably, intense and overwhelming, leaving both of you sweaty and breathless. He slides a hand between you to your clit, circling it with his thumb in time with your movements. You tremble hard, moaning and gasping, telling him how close you are, how good he feels, and how much you have wanted this since the day you moved in.

When you come, your walls pulse tightly around his thickness and your body shakes as you cry out his name. Jay follows right after, holding you firmly against him as he finishes into the condom with a deep groan, murmuring endless praises. "That’s it, come for me… so beautiful giving yourself to me completely… my perfect girl."

You collapse against his chest, both of you breathing hard. He wraps his arms around you tightly, kissing your temple while his hands gently caress your back. "You okay?" he whispers after a while. "Was it too much?"

"It was perfect," you murmur, nuzzling into his neck. "Better than I imagined. Thank you for slowing me down when I got too excited. I probably embarrassed myself, right?"

He shakes his head lightly and laughs, then he gives you one last kiss on your temple and helps you climb back into the passenger seat, watching as you slip your dress back on. "Don’t forget these," he says, reaching for the bouquet.

You take it with a happy smile. "I wouldn’t dare."

He walks around the car to open your door and intertwines his fingers with yours as you walk toward the elevator. Once inside, he pulls you close and kisses you the entire way up to your floor.

"Your place tonight?" you ask against his lips.

Jay’s hand slides to your lower back, pulling you even closer. "Yes, because I’m not done with you yet. I need you in my bed. The thought of you in my sheets, smelling like me when you wake up… it drives me crazy."

The elevator doors open and he pulls you down the hallway toward his door, unlocking it effortlessly. The moment you are both inside, he takes the flowers from your hand, sets them on the counter, and turns to you with hungry eyes. "Come here," he growls, pulling you into a deep, desperate kiss. His hands cup your face first, then slide down your body. "Let me take care of you properly this time."

He leads you to the bedroom and there, he undresses you slowly, admiring and kissing every inch of exposed skin. When you are completely naked, he steps back and looks at you with pure admiration and desire. "Fuck, look at you… so perfect. Every curve, every inch… all mine tonight."

He removes his own clothes and guides you onto the bed, settling between your spread thighs. His warm palms caress them, spreading you open even more. His mouth is on you immediately, licking a broad stripe from your entrance to your clit before circling the sensitive bud with the tip of his tongue, savoring you. "Mmm, already so wet," the vibration of his voice makes you gasp. "You taste so sweet, princess. Like you were made for my mouth."

You let out a shaky moan, your fingers tangling in his hair and pulling him closer. "Jay… that feels incredible. Oh God—"

He slides a finger inside you, curling it against that sweet spot while his mouth continues sucking and licking. The suction around your clit, the rhythm of his finger stroking that perfect spot deep inside — it all turns the pleasure into something deliciously overwhelming. He adds a second finger, then a third, carefully stretching you as he pumps them in and out.

Your hips move against his face as the pleasure intensifies. "Don’t stop… please, Jay, just like that," you moan, your voice breathless and desperate. He eats you out like a starving man — licking, sucking, and thrusting his fingers into you until your thighs shake around his head and you fall apart with a long, loud cry. You clench and pulse around his fingers as the orgasm crashes through you.

Jay doesn’t stop right away, he keeps licking and fingering you through it, prolonging every sensation until you are limp and panting. Only then he drags his mouth up your body, leaving a trail of wet, open-mouthed kisses along your stomach, between your breasts, and up your neck. "You taste like heaven," he murmurs, his voice rough with desire. "I could do this all night, make you come on my tongue until you go stupid."

He grabs a condom from the nightstand and rolls it on quickly over his hard, leaking cock. You reach down, wrapping your hand around his thick, hard length — stroking him slowly, feeling the weight, the pulsing heat, tracing the veins with curiosity. "I want it raw, Jay… I need to feel you, please."

He groans deeply, his hips pushing forward into your fist. "Baby… protection first, remember? I’ll still make you feel good even with the latex between us, I promise." After kissing your forehead, he positions himself at your entrance and pushes in inch by inch, his eyes locked on yours the entire time. You feel a burning stretch as your walls slowly give way to him, every thick pulsing vein dragging against your sensitive insides. When he’s halfway in, you look down between your bodies and see the clear bulge pressing out against your lower belly.

He notices it right after and quickly slides a hand down to press against the bulge, feeling it move under his palm as he sinks deeper. "Fuck, look at that. You see how deep I am? My cock is rearranging your insides, princess. Stretching this tight pussy so you can see it from the outside."

Your hand joins his, pressing against the visible outline, feeling him move inside you from both the inside and the outside. He teases you mercilessly, thrusting slow and deep so the bulge shifts under your combined touch. "You’re taking me so well, like this pussy was made for my cock. So greedy, swallowing every inch."

He sinks the rest of the way in with a guttural groan, bottoming out completely. "Shit… so tight, so hot. You’re already milking me."

His thick cock fills you so completely that every movement presses against sensitive spots that steal the breath from your lungs. His thrusts start controlled and incredibly gentle instead of brutal force. One hand stays intertwined with yours above your head, while the other caresses your cheek, squeezes your breast, and lightly pinches your nipple before soothing it with his thumb. "You look like pure sin wrapped around me… My beautiful princess, creaming all over my cock, taking every inch like a good girl. I’m going to ruin you for anyone else."

You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer. "Jay… it feels so good. You’re so deep, I can feel you everywhere." He leans down, capturing your lips in a messy kiss as his hips move faster in a devastating rhythm that pushes you closer and closer to the edge.

You come hard around him, your walls fluttering and clenching tightly as you cry out. He does not stop, thrusting deep and steady, prolonging your orgasm until you are shaking. "Fuck, that’s it, come on my cock, baby."

Jay follows right after, burying himself as deep as possible with a long, broken groan of your name as he cums, pulsing inside you. He stays buried deep for long moments afterwards, holding you close and covering your face, neck, and shoulders with soft kisses until both of your breathing steadies.

Eventually, he pulls out carefully, discards the condom, and returns from the bathroom with a warm, damp cloth. He cleans you both gently, murmuring more praises the entire time. "You were perfect, princess. So responsive, so beautiful when you come for me." He pulls the sheets over both of you and wraps you in his arms.

Your head rests on Jay’s chest while his fingers trace a lazy path along your spine, down to the curve of your waist. Without a word, you shift, turning onto your side. Jay follows naturally, molding his body against yours from behind in a perfect spoon. His chest presses against your back as he slides an arm around your waist, pulling you even closer. You can already feel him half-hard again against the curve of your ass, sending a fresh wave of heat through your body.

He nuzzles into the back of your neck, placing soft kisses there. "You okay?" he murmurs, his voice low and rough in the quiet room.

"More than okay," you whisper back, pressing lightly against him. "I like feeling you close like this."

Jay reaches for another condom from the nightstand. You hear the faint rustle as he puts it on, then his hand returns to your body, tenderly caressing your side and hip. He lifts your top leg slightly, hooking it over his, opening you up for him. The thick head of his cock brushes against your entrance before he pushes in slowly, inch by inch, until he is buried completely inside you.

"So good," he whispers against your neck, sliding a hand up to caress your breast. His fingers massage gently, his thumb circling your nipple until it hardens under his touch.

He starts moving — slow, deep rolls of his hips, thrusting unhurriedly so you can feel every inch of his thick cock dragging against your walls. While he fucks you, his hand on your breast never stops worshipping it — squeezing, rolling your nipple between his fingers, occasionally pinching lightly before soothing it with gentle caresses. And his mouth keeps placing open-mouthed kisses along the back of your neck, back, and shoulder.

You reach behind you, running your fingers through his hair as you move with him. "Jay… deeper like that feels so good."

His thrusts become a little deeper, but still controlled. "You take me so well every single time. Look at how perfectly you fit around me. I could stay inside you forever." His mouth finds the sensitive spot on your neck, sucking hard enough to leave a mark while he continues playing with your breasts — pinching, rolling, and caressing until your nipples are deliciously sore. Only then he slid his hand down to your clit, circling it in time with his thrusts. The combination of sensations is overwhelming and pushes you closer and closer to the edge. "You’re so close… I can feel you squeezing me. Come for me again, princess."

And you do. Your walls contract rhythmically around his thickness as you moan his name, your body trembling in his arms. Jay follows right after you, burying his face in your neck with a deep groan as he comes, filling the condom.

You turn your head slightly to capture his lips in a lazy kiss. "I feel so safe with you," you whisper. "And so wanted."

He stays inside you until the aftershocks fade, then carefully pulls out, discards the condom, and cleans you both once again with gentle care. He pulls the sheets up around you both and draws you back into his arms, spooning you again.

Jay’s hand rests tenderly on your stomach, tracing small circles there. You feel deeply in love and completely at peace as you start to drift off to sleep, safe in his arms.

Sunlight is already filtering through the curtains by the time you slowly wake up the next morning —.only to realize the space beside you is empty, even though the warmth of Jay’s body and the faint scent of his cologne still linger around. You stretch and sit up to look around the room, noticing one of his shirts draped over the back of a chair. Slipping it on, you pad barefoot out of the bedroom toward the kitchen, drawn by the rich aroma of coffee and food already filling the air.

Jay is at the stove, flipping eggs while a plate of toast and cut fruit waits for you on the counter. You walk up to him and wrap your arms around him from behind, pressing your cheek against his back. "Good morning."

He turns off the stove and turns around, settling his hands on your hips. His gaze softens instantly when he sees you wearing his shirt. "Good morning, princess. You look way too good in my clothes."

You laugh softly and tilt your face up, expecting a kiss. He leans in but pauses with a playful look. "Ah, but you haven’t brushed your teeth yet. No good-morning kisses until after breakfast."

You pout and dramatically pull away. "Not even a kiss on the cheek? You’re so cruel."

With a sigh, he gives in — pressing a long kiss to your cheek, then another to your forehead. Before you can say anything, he effortlessly lifts you and sits you on the edge of the kitchen counter, standing between your knees. "There. Now I can look at you properly while I finish this."

As he moves around the kitchen, your eyes wander until they stop on the refrigerator. Something catches your attention — photos are held up by magnets, but one in particular stands out: a Polaroid of Jay smiling with his arm around a woman’s shoulders. You hadn't noticed it on your previous visits to the kitchen — you had been too focused on him. "Who is that?" you ask curiously, nodding toward the fridge. "The woman in the photo with you?"

Jay glances over while sliding a plate toward you. "That’s my sister. We don’t look much alike, I know. We’re actually half-siblings."

You tilt your head, studying the photo for another second. They really do not look very similar, but that is not unusual for half-siblings. "She looks nice," you say lightly, accepting the plate he offers. "Breakfast looks delicious, by the way. You really didn’t have to."

"I wanted to," he replies, stepping between your knees and stealing a quick peck. "After last night, it feels right to take care of you this morning… and maybe every other morning too."

You smile shyly. "Speaking of last night… it was incredible. You made everything feel so good, so right. I keep replaying every part of it in my head."

He reaches up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, his thumb gently caressing your cheek. "You were perfect, baby. I loved every second of it." He leans in and kisses the corner of your mouth. "You’re so beautiful when you let go for me."

"You’re going to make it really hard for me to focus in class today." You take a bite of the toast, savoring it. "Oh, by the way, I’m going out with some new friends from college tonight. They invited me to a party, it’s a chance to get to know each other better outside of class."

Jay nods, resting a hand on your thigh and stroking it lightly. "Sounds fun. Just be careful, okay? Text me when you get there and when you’re heading back."

"I will," you say, stealing another quick kiss from him. "I won’t stay out too late anyway. I have an early class tomorrow."

He picks up a piece of fruit from the plate and brings it to your mouth, brushing his fingers teasingly against your lips. "You deserve to have fun… I’ll be here if you need anything when you get back."

You stumble out of your friend’s car a little after 1 a.m., waving goodbye as you sway on your feet. You make your way toward the building entrance and suddenly remember that you promised to text Jay — which you didn’t. So you call him to let him know you arrived and are heading up. In response, he says he is waiting for you.

When you reach the third floor, Jay’s door is already open and he is waiting for you. "Heyyy," you say cheerfully, immediately wrapping your arms around his waist and pressing your face against his chest. "I’m back. Just like I promised."

Laughing Jay’s arms wrap around you automatically as he looks at you more closely. "You’re pretty drunk, princess. How was the party?"

"So much fun," you ramble, clinging to him tighter as he guides you inside and closes the door. "We danced, there was a shot game, and my new friends are so funny. I laughed so hard my stomach hurt." You tilt your head up, puckering your lips. "Kiss?"

Instead of a proper kiss, he gives you a quick one on your forehead. "You smell like a distillery and your shirt is soaked, what happened?"

You look down at the sticky stain on your shirt and pout. "Someone spilled on me. It’s gross. But I still want kisses, real kisses." You try to pull his face down, standing on your tiptoes. "I missed you all night. I kept thinking about you during the party… about how nice you were last night. We should do that again right now."

Jay gently holds your wrists to stop you. "Not tonight, princess. You’re drunk."

"But I want you," you beg, pressing closer, but he doesn’t give in at all. "You’re so hot, so gentle, and… big. Please?"

He shakes his head and guides you toward the bathroom. "No. Only when you’re sober and can remember everything clearly. Right now, I’m just taking care of you, okay?"

"Let’s get you cleaned up," he says gently once you reach the bathroom. Reaching for the hem of your wet shirt he carefully pulls it off, followed by the rest of your clothes.

"You’re always so gentle with me," you murmur, watching him adjust the shower temperature. "No one has ever been this gentle. I really, really like you, Jay."

He smiles softly and helps you into the shower, joining you still fully dressed so he can take care of you. Jay keeps one hand on your waist to steady you while the other runs soapy over your shoulders and arms.

The alcohol in your system makes your emotions spill out easily before you can stop them. "I think… I think I’m falling for you," you confess, your tongue loose, making your cheeks flush. "Is that crazy? It feels too fast. I know I’m younger and still figuring everything out, but being with you just feels right. You make me feel safe, wanted, and special."

Jay pauses for half a second, processing what he just heard, but then continues washing you carefully — lathering the floral-scented body wash over your skin. "This smells like… girl stuff," you say, a little curious. "Is it yours?"

He looks away for a moment before answering. "It’s my mom’s. She left some things here the last time she came to visit."

"Ah," You rest your forehead against his chest as the water runs over both of you. "I meant it, though. About falling for you. Even if it’s too soon… I can’t help it."

Jay wraps his arms fully around you under the spray of water, holding you close — voice is full of affection when he finally replies. "Hey… look at me, princess." He gently lifts your chin. "What you’re feeling… I feel it too." Softly, he kisses your forehead, then the tip of your nose. "We don’t need to rush or label anything right now. Just know that I’m here and I care about you a lot."

Even in your alcohol-fueled haze, his words calm the part of you that was worried you were moving too fast. "Really? You feel it too?"

"I do." He continues washing you carefully — your arms, your back, your sides — just taking care of you. "Being with you is easy. Natural. So let’s just enjoy it, okay? One day at a time."

Jay finishes rinsing you off and helps you out of the shower. Wrapping you in a towel he dries you gently before dressing you in one of his shirts. By the time he guides you to bed, you are already sleepy. He helps you lie down and you snuggle into the sheets, murmuring one last "I really like you" before falling asleep.

────────

The following days feel almost too good to be real.

You wake up in Jay’s bed, wrapped in his arms and wearing one of his shirts. He always wakes up before you to make breakfast and greet you with a good morning kiss and that smile that still makes your heart flutter. But on some mornings, you pull him back into bed to cuddle before classes and work, and without any argument, he makes time to make you feel loved.

When you get home from class, tired, Jay is already there to greet you cheerfully despite his own exhaustion. He texts you during the day, asking how your classes are going and reminding you to eat. When you are together, he pulls you in for slow, affectionate kisses — the kind that make your legs weak. Some nights you cook together as he tries to teach you how to make proper meals. Other nights he orders takeout and you eat on the couch while you tell him every detail of your day. He still doesn’t share much about himself, always dodging the subject, but you do not push — you don’t want to be invasive.

The sex is frequent — sometimes slow and worshipful, his mouth and hands adoring every inch of you until you are trembling and coming apart. Other times it is faster and more urgent — against the kitchen counter, in the shower, on the couch, in his home office. One night you try baking cookies together, ending up covered in flour and laughing as he kisses the mess off your cheek. Another night you start watching a movie cuddled together, but the movie is forgotten halfway through when clothes come off and he fucks you right there on the couch.

Suddenly everything feels so domestic — he now keeps an extra toothbrush for you, your notebooks are on his coffee table, and some of your clothes are scattered around his apartment. It is undeniable that you are falling deeper and deeper in love.

On a Sunday afternoon, you are studying on his couch while Jay is in his home office, working on a complicated case that demands his full attention. After hours buried in books and notes, concentrating is almost impossible. At this point, your mind keeps wandering to him without permission. When your brain finally gives up, you close the book with a dramatic sigh.

You walk down the hallway and peek into his office. Jay is sitting at his desk with his sleeves rolled up, looking unfairly attractive as he concentrates on reviewing some papers. "Jay?" you call, walking in without waiting for an answer.

He looks up, and the moment his eyes meet yours, the tension in his shoulders softens. "Hey, princess. How are the studies going?"

Boring." You take a few steps closer and don’t ask for permission — you simply climb into his lap, settling on his thighs and wrapping your arms around his neck. You leave a trail of kisses along his jaw, then his cheek and lips. "I missed you. Pay attention to me? Just for a little while?"

One of his hands rests on your waist while the other continues organizing the documents. "I’d love to, baby, but this case is a nightmare. There are documents everywhere. I’m going crazy with these."

You nuzzle into the curve of his neck and kiss him there. "You’ve been in here for hours… you deserve a break." Your hips move subtly against him, restless, the friction sending a spark through both of you. You feel him twitch beneath you, already starting to respond to your movements.

Jay’s grip on your waist tightens. "Princess…" There is a warning tone in his voice, bordering on frustration. But as you grind against him, you can feel him beginning to harden, and that gives you hope — you think he might give in.

"You’re really testing me today." He pulls you into a kiss, fingers tangling in the hair at the nape of your neck. When he pulls away, it is with a frustrated sigh.

"That's the point," you whisper, smiling proudly against his lips as you continue grinding, slower this time, feeling him get even harder.

Jay curses under his breath, gripping your hips more firmly. No matter how hard he tries to hold back, he can’t, the desire is uncontrollable. He reaches between you and unzips his pants. "Fine, but you’re going to behave." He frees his hard, throbbing cock and pulls your panties and shorts to the side. This time there is nothing between you — no latex barrier, just him.

You sink down onto him slowly, and the new sensation hits you immediately — it’s different, hotter, more intimate. Every ridge and vein is raw against your walls, the skin-to-skin contact sends a shiver through your entire body and makes you moan as you settle fully onto him. The stretch feels deeper and more overwhelming than ever.

For a moment, it feels perfect — connected, raw.

But then his hands close firmly on your hips, holding you completely still. "Don’t move," he commands, his voice noticeably deeper and rougher. "Stay just like this. No grinding, no whimpering. I’m serious."

His cock pulses hot and heavy inside you, and you can barely focus on what he said. "Jay… oh my God, you feel—"

"I said don’t move," he interrupts, repeating it more harshly this time. His free hand returns to the stack of papers while the other arm stays wrapped around your waist, keeping you in place.

At first, you try to obey — resting your head on his shoulder and breathing deeply every time his cock twitches inside you, but the longer you sit there, the harder it becomes. You let out a soft moan as your hips twitch involuntarily. "Jay… please, just let me move a little bit."

"I told you not to move. Jesus, you’re really pushing it today." The irritation is clear in every word now, and his grip on your waist tightens even more. "I have a deadline. I can’t afford to get distracted like this."

Again, you try to stay still — you really do, until frustrated tears prick at your eyes — but your body betrays you with small, involuntary movements of your hips. "I’m sorry… I can’t help it. This is driving me crazy. I need you to move, please."

Jay’s jaw is tense and his breathing comes in heavy bursts — clearly fighting the urge to thrust up into you. "You think I don’t want to? You’re so tight and wet around me right now, but I can’t. I have work to do and you’re not letting me focus." His tone grows even harsher. "Stop squirming. Be a good girl for me and just sit there.”

But you do not listen — you roll your hips again, letting out a moan as he rubs against that sensitive spot inside you. "Jesus Christ. I told you I have work and this is fucking important."

"But I missed you and this is torture. Please, please just fu-"

He cuts you off sharply. "You always miss me, always need something. Kisses, hugs, my cock, my fucking attention. You practically live here now, your things are all over my apartment, you sleep in my bed like it’s yours. Isn’t that enough attention? You know what? I need you to get off so I can actually finish this case."

The words hurt, making your chest tighten — tears of frustration turn into something heavier and spill down your cheeks. "I didn’t mean to be annoying… I just wanted to be close to you."

"Yeah, well, wanting to be close to me doesn’t magically make my deadline disappear. I’m already behind because of distractions like this." His hand on your hip tightens even more, holding you completely still, the pressure bordering on uncomfortable. "You have your own apartment right next door. Just give me a few hours alone, for once."

You stare at him in disbelief at what you just heard. Suddenly the intimate position feels humiliating — the way you are still stretched around him while he looks at you like you are nothing but am annoyance. "You want me to leave? Like this… right now"

"I’m telling you to give me some space." With no patience left, he lifts you off him, leaving you empty and trembling. "Go to your place, take a nap, study, whatever. Just let me work."

You stand there with shaky legs, wiping away your tears, feeling small, vulnerable, and unwanted. With a quiet, trembling breath, you whisper, "…Okay."

It's past 9 PM when Jay finally steps out of his office, having finished dealing with that pile of papers. The silence hangs heavy now, normally you would be humming, curled up on the couch waiting for him, or laughing at something silly on your phone. Without you, the space feels too empty. He had been rude — way too rude — and he sees that now. He owes you an apology, so he walks over to your door, but just as he is about to knock, he notices the door is not fully closed — it’s slightly ajar, allowing him to hear low murmurs of voices.

Frowning, he pushes the door open a little more and steps inside, finding a guy standing right at the entrance to your living room, putting on a jacket. The guy turns at the sound of the door, his expression quickly shifting to surprise. "Ah, hi. You must be Jay. She talks about you a lot."

He looks over the other guy’s shoulder toward the couch where you are sitting with your knees pulled up. The guy cleans his throat, sensing the tension between the two of you. "I was just leaving… It was really nice talking to you." He gives you a small wave. "Text me if you need anything else, okay?"

You smile and wave back. "Yeah. Thanks, Jake. Drive safe."

As Jake heads for the door, Jay blocks his path. "Wait. What exactly were you doing here?"

Jake blinks, surprised by the sudden question. "She seemed pretty down when we texted, so I decided to stop by and check if she was okay. Anyway, I’m heading out. Nice to meet you, man."

He steps aside, letting Jake pass. The door closes behind him, leaving just the two of you in the suddenly too-quiet apartment.

You stand up, hugging yourself. "Jay… what are you doing here?"

The regret he felt for being so harsh with you is quickly replaced by jealousy and irritation. "I came because my place was too quiet without you. I started thinking maybe I was too hard on you earlier, but clearly you didn’t waste any time finding company."

You frown, confused by what he means. "He’s just a friend. I told you about him before, we met during my first week on campus when I accidentally walked into the wrong lecture hall. I was upset after you basically kicked me out, so I texted him. We weren’t doing anything, just talking."

Jay lets out a short, bitter laugh and steps closer. "Talking late at night like it’s a casual visit. You mentioned him before, of course, but I didn’t know you two were close enough for house calls."

The hurt from earlier mixes with frustration now. "You were so rude, Jay. You made me feel like I was an annoying pest who can’t function without your attention. I understand you’re stressed with work, but you didn’t have to push me away and kick me out like that. I felt embarrassed."

He closes even more of the distance between you, standing close enough that you can feel the jealousy radiating off him. "You’re the one who can’t sit still for five minutes without demanding something, climbing into my lap while I’m trying to meet a deadline, whimpering and squirming like a spoiled brat because you ‘missed me’."

You take a step back, but the couch hits the back of your legs. "I just wanted to be close to you."

"But the world doesn’t revolve around your need for attention. I love having you around, but today? You made it impossible for me to concentrate, and the second I ask for a few hours to actually get things done, you run straight to this Jake guy?" Jay doesn’t care that nothing happened — the image of another guy in your space, late at night, while you were upset, makes his blood boil.

"I didn’t run to him! I was crying when he got here and he just listened. Unlike you, who basically told me to leave because I’m too much."

Jay’s laugh is harsh this time, completely humorless. "Too much. Yeah, that’s one way of saying you’re a spoiled brat who demands attention every second, and the moment things get difficult, you replace me with whoever is most convenient."

Neither of you speaks for a long moment. You look away, Jay’s jaw clenches, and soon his gaze drifts from your face to the way you are hugging yourself, then lower, lingering on your bare legs. The jealousy is still burning in his chest, mixed with the memory of you sitting on his cock earlier, demanding attention, all needy.

"Come here," he says, nodding toward the couch.

You hesitate, biting your lip, which makes Jay exhale sharply and close the distance. His hand wraps around your wrist, guiding you toward the couch. "We’re not done talking about this."

He sits on the couch and pulls you closer until you are lying across his lap, your stomach pressed against his thighs. Your shirt has ridden up naturally, but he is not satisfied. "This is in the way." His fingers hook into the waistband of your shorts and panties, pulling them down and tossing them aside — leaving your ass completely bare for him.

Jay’s palm rests on one of your cheeks, squeezing the flesh possessively. "You’ve been pushing all day… needing attention, teasing me, and then Jake shows up at your place, and I’m supposed to just swallow that?" His fingers dig harder into the flesh. "You’re mine, and it’s time you learn what happens when you piss me off this much."

His hand makes slow circles over your skin, almost soothing. "How many spanks do you think you deserve for acting like this?"

Your heart races as you try to process his words — head turning slightly to look at him. "What? Are you serious?"

He meets your eyes with a firm, dark expression — one you have never seen from him before. "Very serious. You’ve been spoiled all day, teasing me on purpose. So tell me, how many do you think you deserve?"

You swallow hard, your cheeks burning with embarrassment. "I don’t know… Five? Maybe?"

Jay lets out a mocking laugh. "Five? That’s way too low, baby. You’re going to take twenty, and you’re going to count each one out loud. If you lose count or mess up, we start over. Understood?"

You hesitate but eventually whisper, "Yes… okay."

"Good girl." His hand lifts and the first spank comes without warning — firm and sharp, the sound echoing through the silence. You jolt, a surprised moan escaping you — heat spreads instantly across your bare skin, the sting stronger than you expected.

"One," you gasp.

He immediately rubs the spot in slow, soothing circles, calming the hot skin where he struck.

"Two," you say after the next spank lands on the other cheek.

Jay keeps a steady rhythm — delivering hard spanks followed by almost tender caresses. Then his fingers slide lower, tracing your wet folds, spreading them teasingly, brushing against your entrance, lightly circling your clit before pulling away.

"What a spoiled little brat," he murmurs during one of the pauses, rubbing your reddened cheeks while two fingers tease your slit again. "You’re already getting so wet… You like this, don’t you?"

You moan instead of answering, which earns you another sharp spank. "Five."

He continues, the spanks leaving marks and building heat across your ass. Now his fingers are dip inside you, moving with slow, shallow thrusts, curling just enough to brush that sensitive spot and make you clench around him desperately. But he always pulls back before you can get close to the edge.

"Six… seven… ah!"

By ten, tears prick your eyes, your thighs trembling as the sting turns into a pulsing heat.

Jay pauses longer this time, massaging your sore ass and spreading your cheeks so he can tease your entrance again. "You’re mine. When you need attention that badly, you come to me, even if I’m stressed, even if I tell you to leave." A finger pushes deep inside you, staying there while his thumb brushes your clit.

You lose track amid the overwhelming sensations and he makes you start over, just as he warned. "Back to one." During the restart, two more fingers slide inside you, moving in a torturous rhythm. "You feel how wet you are? This is what happens when you forget who you belong to."

"You’re mine. Your time, your attention, this body. I don’t share it." Spank. Soothe. Tease. "Say it."

"I’m yours," you moan.

"Louder." Another spank.

"I’m yours, Jay!"

When he finally reaches twenty, you are a trembling mess with tears streaming down your face. Jay finally pulls you up and turns you so you are sitting in his lap. His hands stay on your ass, carefully massaging the sore flesh and you press yourself against the hard bulge in his pants, burying your face in his shoulder. "You did so well, my good girl."

Jay lifts your chin, meeting your eyes. For a moment, he just looks at you — really looks at you — taking in your flushed cheeks and tear-streaked face. Then he leans in and kisses you. One hand remains on your sore ass, squeezing gently, while the other slides into your hair. He kisses you like he needs to claim every part of you — hungry, insistent, his tongue tracing your lower lip before sliding inside. You melt into him, moaning against his mouth as you start slowly grinding your hips.

He pulls back just enough to trail his mouth along your jaw, nipping at the sensitive spot below your ear. "Still so needy… even after all that." Then he kisses you again, deeper and hungrier, tongues sliding together with fervor. The hand on your ass slips between your bodies to tease your wet folds with light circles and shallow dips — keeping you right on the edge.

When he pulls away, a thin string of saliva connects you for a second before breaking. "On your knees, princess."

Obediently, you slide off his lap and kneel between his spread thighs. Jay looks down at you, one hand lazily stroking your hair as he frees himself from his pants — his cock springs out, thick, heavy, and already leaking at the tip.

"Open. Tongue out," he says, tapping your lower lip with two fingers. You open your mouth and obediently stick your tongue out. He leans forward and spits directly into your mouth. The warm, viscous saliva lands on your tongue, degrading in a way that makes you shiver. "Swallow that first," he instructs. You swallow while keeping your eyes locked on his. He nods with a satisfied hum. "Now show me how sorry you are for pushing me today."

You start with kisses along his length before dragging your tongue from base to tip. Jay groans, his fingers tightening in your hair, but he doesn't force you — not yet. His thickness stretches your lips as you finally take him into your mouth. He is big enough that you can only take about half before he hits the back of your throat. Your hand wraps around the base, stroking what does not fit in a steady rhythm.

"Fuck… that’s it," he murmurs, tilting his head back for a moment before his gaze returns to you. He doesn't want to miss a single second of this. "Look at me while you suck it."

You do, looking up at him with teary eyes, and the sight makes his cock twitch in your mouth. When you pull back to catch your breath, he slaps his cock against your tongue a few times, leaving strings of saliva connecting you, before guiding you back down. "Yeah, just like that… good girl."

Between bobs, when you pull back to breathe, you say breathlessly, "I’m sorry for distracting you and for Jake being here." Then he guides you down again.

Jay’s hips start moving, pushing a little deeper and testing your limits. Tears continue to prick your eyes from the stretch, but you keep going, hollowing your cheeks and moaning around him.

When he finally gets close, Jay’s grip tightens, his thighs tense, and his breathing becomes ragged. "I’m going to come. Don’t waste it, swallow everything." You nod around him, doubling your efforts and with a deep groan, he comes down your throat — thick, hot pulses that you swallow eagerly, not letting a single drop escape.

He pulls out slowly, a string of saliva and cum connecting your lips to the tip before it breaks. "Open your mouth. Show me."

You open your mouth, sticking your tongue out to prove you swallowed everything. “That’s my good girl.”

He helps you up, pulls you back into his lap, and kisses you, tasting himself on your tongue. Your hips start moving on their own, pressing against the growing hardness beneath you that makes Jay groan into your mouth, one hand sliding down to grab your bare ass and guide your movements.

"Still not satisfied? Such a greedy little thing." Even though he just came, his cock is already stirring again, hardening beneath you as your wet pussy slides along his length.

You gasp against his mouth, your hands gripping his shoulders. "Jay… I need you so bad."

He answers by kissing you again, but soon pulls back to meet your eyes. "Then take what you want."

You don’t hesitate, not even for a second. Rising on shaky knees, you reach down and align the thick head of his cock against your entrance, and slowly you sink down, gasping at the stretch and every inch that fills you. The lack of a barrier makes him feel impossibly thicker than the last time in his office — hotter, more intimate. The spanked skin of your ass burns as you settle fully against his thighs.

"Fuck," Jay hisses, his head falling back against the couch for a moment as his hands grip your hips hard enough to leave bruises, holding you fully impaled on him. "So wet… so fucking tight like this."

You start moving, rolling your hips in a slow, deep rhythm, the angle letting you feel every ridge and vein raw inside you, pulling broken moans from your throat. One of his hands slips under your shirt to caress one tit while the other stays on your ass, squeezing the soft flesh in time with your movements. The mix of pleasure and stinging burn makes everything more intense.

"That’s right," he growls, thrusting up to meet you. "This is what you wanted all day, isn’t it? My attention. My cock." You lean forward, kissing him messily while you bounce, moving your hips faster.

With a low curse, he wraps his arms around you and suddenly flips you, laying you down on the couch cushions, driving him even deeper which pulls a sharp cry from you.

Now he is on top, pinning you beneath him — one of your legs hooked over his shoulder as he starts thrusting into you with deep, powerful strokes — hips snapping forward, burying himself to the hilt each time and the lack of a condom lets you feel every raw inch.

Clinging to his back, your nails dig in as the pleasure borders on overwhelming. Jay’s face hovers above yours, his hair damp with sweat falling into his eyes. Rhythm falters for a second as he looks at you, something darker flashing across his face, the jealousy from earlier — the image of Jake leaving your apartment — has not disappeared. "Are you on the pill?"

You shake your head, breathless, barely able to form words between moans. "No, I’m not."

He thrusts harder, hitting deep against your cervix as if to emphasize the point. "Good," he growls, eyes locked on yours. "Actually, fucking perfect. Maybe I’ll knock you up tonight, put a baby in you so you won’t even think about another guy like Jake. You’ll stay right here with me, we’ll have a beautiful family, me, you, and our kids. No more distractions."

The words should have shocked you, but in the heat of the moment — with him fucking you raw, his body claiming yours completely — they only send a fresh wave of arousal through you. Moaning loudly, your legs tightening around his waist. "Jay… fuck—"

He groans at your reaction, his hips moving harder. "You like that idea, don’t you? My cum deep inside you, getting you pregnant so everyone knows you’re claimed." One of his hands slides down to press lightly against your stomach, as if he can already imagine it.

The couch creaks beneath you both, the sound of skin slapping against skin and the wet noises of him fucking you filling the room. Jay’s earlier irritation fuels every deep thrust, but so does possessiveness — the need to claim you completely after the stressful day. He presses you deeper into the cushions, his hips moving in a way that grinds against your clit with every stroke.

When you finally come, it is intense — your walls contracting tightly around his cock as you scream his name. Jay follows right after, burying himself as deep as possible, and you feel the hot pulses of his cum filling you, thick and warm.

For long minutes, Jay simply holds you — kissing your neck, your jaw, your swollen lips — his cock softening slowly inside you, but as the minutes stretch on, you feel him coming back to life, pulsing against your sensitive walls. "Already?" There is a playful tone in your voice.

"I can’t help it." He moves, pressing one last kiss to your mouth before slowly pulling out. You moan at the loss, feeling his cum start to leak out of you, but his hand quickly reaches down to push it back inside you with two fingers. "Don’t waste it."

He leans back on the couch, stroking himself until he is fully hard again. "Turn around. Hands on the backrest."

You obey, your body trembling as you shift position, kneeling on the cushions, gripping the top of the backrest and arching your back slightly while Jay moves behind you, his gaze fixed on the evidence of the earlier spanking — your cheeks still red with visible handprints — as one of his palms smooths reverently over the heated skin before squeezing firmly.

"Fuck, look at this… Still so red from your lesson." His cock brushes against your entrance before he thrusts deep inside you in one powerful stroke, the new position letting him sink even deeper as the head of his cock presses against spots that make your toes curl drawing a loud moan from you while you grip the backrest tighter as he bottoms out.

Jay starts fucking you with firm, powerful thrusts — deep and deliberate, the couch creaking beneath you both — as every thrust makes your sore ass bounce and the red marks darken even more with the impact, his eyes unable to leave them while his thumbs press into the soft flesh, pulling you back onto his cock repeatedly.

"These marks… they look so good on you." Without warning, he lands a hard, stinging spank on your right cheek, the already sensitive skin making you cry out and clench hard around his cock as Jay groans at the sensation, his hips stuttering for a moment before he resumes his deep rhythm.

He gives your left cheek another spank, making you writhe and moan again as you push back against him desperately despite the burn — or maybe because of it — the mix of pain and pleasure making you even wetter, the previous creampie turning everything obscenely wet and messy.

"That’s it," he praises, smoothing his hands over the fresh marks he just added. "Squirm for me. I love how sensitive you are right here." He gives you one more spank, lighter this time but still enough to make you shudder, and immediately soothes the area with his hands, massaging the sore flesh while he continues thrusting deep and hard from behind.

Jay leans over you, bracing one hand on the back of the couch beside yours while the other reaches down to rub tight circles on your clit. His chest presses against your back, his lips brushing your ear as he speaks between thrusts. "You’re going to take every drop again, princess. I’m going to give you my babies, keep you so full you won’t even think about anyone else."

When you come again — hard, your vision blurring from the overwhelming sensations — Jay follows right behind, burying himself deep with a groan and flooding you with another load of hot cum. He stays inside you for a long time afterward, thrusting slowly through the aftershocks.

Finally, he pulls out carefully and pulls you into his arms, stroking your back in slow, gentle movements. "You’re a mess, princess. Come on, let me take care of you."

He stands up with you in his arms and carries you to the bathroom. Once inside, he turns on the shower, adjusts the temperature, and removes the rest of both your clothes before guiding you under the hot spray with him where the water cascades over you both. Jay takes his body wash, lathers it between his hands, and runs them over your skin — being extra careful around your sensitive ass, massaging the foam in light circles that ease some of the sting.

"Maybe I was a little too rough tonight," he says, his hands moving along your thighs, cleaning away the evidence of the many rounds. "Work stress got to me, and then seeing Jake… I took it out on you more than I should have. You handled it really well, but I’m sorry if it was too much."

You lean back against his chest, letting the water rinse off the soap as you tilt your head to look at him. "It hurt… but it also felt good. In a weird way. I just hated feeling like I was bothering you earlier. I didn’t want to annoy you while you were working. I just… missed you a lot."

After rinsing you, he turns off the shower, wraps you in a towel first, then himself and dries you carefully, paying extra attention to your ass and rubbing some soothing lotion he finds in the cabinet. "There. Better?"

"Much better," you admit, reaching up to touch his face. "Thank you for taking care of me like this."

He leans down and kisses your forehead. "You make it easy to want to take care of you." Pulling you closer, his voice shifting to something even calmer and more sincere. "I don’t know what I’d do without you around. I can’t imagine coming home and not having you here like this. You just… fit. Right here with me."

You hug him tightly, burying your face in his chest. "I feel the same. I always want to be close to you because you make everything feel better."

Smiling against your hair, Jay guides you to the bed and pulls the covers back, lying down beside you to pull you close against his chest. One arm wraps around you securely, his hand rests gently on your ass — not squeezing, just warm and protective over the sensitive skin.

You snuggle even closer, your leg draped over his as exhaustion finally takes over completely. "Stay the night?" you ask sleepily.

"Wouldn’t dream of leaving," His fingers trace lazy circles on your back until your breathing evens out and you fall asleep.

Next morning you stir slowly, feeling the pleasant ache in your muscles and Jay’s heavy arm draped over your waist, his body curled protectively against your back. He feels you waking up and trails lazy kisses along your shoulder before moving up the side of your neck. "Good morning, baby," he murmurs, his voice still rough with sleep as his hand slides to your stomach. "Sleep well?"

You turn in his arms, smiling despite the slight soreness when you move, and reach up to brush the messy hair from his forehead. "Yes… thanks to you."

He leans in and kisses you properly — slow and sweet, the kind of kiss that makes you melt. At this point, he couldn't care less that neither of you had brushed your teeth yet. "You were incredible last night. Let me make it up to you a little more with breakfast."

Jay borrows a pair of your sweatpants that look comically tight on his incredibly nice ass, making you laugh as he models them. In the kitchen, you work side by side like so many mornings before — he cracks eggs for scrambled eggs while you toast bread and slice fruit. Small touches are stolen throughout: a hand on your lower back as he reaches past you, a quick kiss on your temple when you hand him the salt shaker, a playful bump of his hip against yours.

"You’re in a good mood today," you tease, leaning against the counter while he plates the food.

"I can’t help it when I wake up next to you." He sets the plates on the table and pulls you in for another kiss before you both sit down.

After eating, you start getting ready for college and he for the office. Jay kisses you one more time before heading back to his apartment next door to get ready for work. You take a long shower and, once dressed in jeans and a comfortable blouse, you step out into the hallway at the same time he does, looking impeccable in his work clothes.

He quickly pulls you in for a proper goodbye, hands gently cradling your face as he kiss your forehead, lingering there for a long moment. "Have a good day at class. Text me when you’re done." With one last soft kiss on your lips, he pulls away with a smile. "See you later, princess."

College passes in a whirlwind of classes and notes, but your mind keeps drifting back to Jay — the way he holds you, the sweet words, the kisses. He has not sent many messages during the day, which is a little unusual, but you figure he must be busy at work.

When you finally get home in the early evening, you step into the elevator and press the button for the third floor. Just before the doors close, a woman you have never seen in the building before enters, but something about her face seems vaguely familiar.

The woman smiles politely as the elevator starts moving. Curiosity gets the better of you and before you can stop yourself, you ask, "Hi… do you live here? I’ve been in the building for about two months and I don’t think I’ve seen you around."

She nods, laughing lightly. "Yes, I do, but I’ve been away on a work trip. I’m a lawyer and a complicated case kept me out of town longer than expected. I actually got back this morning."

"Wow. That sounds intense… By the way, my name is y/n. Nice to meet you."

The woman’s smile widens. "Nice to meet you too. Jay has already told me about you. He’s mentioned his sweet neighbor a few times."

Your heart flutters with joy — Jay talked about you to the neighbors. It feels special, like proof that you are really becoming a bigger part of his life. "He did? That’s nice to hear."

The elevator dings on the third floor and you both step out together. A small flicker of confusion crosses your mind — she is going the same way — but you don’t think much of it. Maybe she lives farther down the hall.

Then you see Jay standing there and your face lights up immediately. He hadn't texted you all day, and seeing him now makes excitement bubble up inside you. You walk toward him with a radiant smile.

At the same moment, the woman also walks straight up to him. When she reaches him, she wraps her arms around his neck and kisses him — a deep, familiar, affectionate kiss. Jay’s hands settle on her waist automatically as he eagerly kisses her back.

The world stops.

Your feet freeze mid-step and everything inside you turns cold and numb. It takes a moment for your brain to process what you are seeing, but then the pieces fall into place with painful clarity. That was Jay’s wife. The woman in the Polaroid photo he casually said was his "sister." The late-night calls he claimed were from the office. The feminine body wash he said belonged to his mom. The distant restaurant he took you to on your first date, probably so no one nearby would recognize him. The way the doorman sometimes looked at you with that judgmental expression, like he knew something — he did. All the small inconsistencies you had ignored because you were so blinded by how gentle and attentive he seemed.

Every sweet word, every touch, every promise of "you’re mine" had been built on lies. He was married. His heart already belonged to someone else, and you had been nothing but a convenient distraction from the apartment next door — blind, eager, and so in love with the version of him he showed you that you never saw the truth.

Jay’s eyes meet yours over his wife’s shoulder, and for a fraction of a second, something like panic or guilt flashes across his face. The shock turns into pure pain, making you practically run to your door as you fumble for your keys while hot tears blur your vision.

You lean against the door, sliding down to the floor as sobs begin to escape you. Your chest hurts as if someone had ripped a hole in it. All the cute moments — the kisses, the touches, the date, the bouquet — turn ugly and humiliating in your memory.

You cry hard, knees pulled up to your chest, as disappointment turns into shame for having fallen so completely for the man who made you feel special, desired, and loved… and it was all a lie.

The thin walls allow you to hear muffled voices — his wife asking about his day, the normalcy of their conversation only making everything worse. You press your hands over your ears, trying to block out the sound, but the damage is already done. Your heart is shattered.

The man you had grown so attached to — the one who held you so tenderly after sex, who made you breakfast and promised more comfortable days like that — was someone else’s husband, and you had been the other woman without even knowing it.

thank you for reading.

[siyalogue]

park jay = jongseong

jay park = mommae guy

if you get it, you get it.

[yeokii]

⠀PRETTY YOUNG THING⠀' 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎

⠀ ❤︎ ' ceo jay and his controversially younger gfie > <

𝗟𝗢𝗩𝗜𝗡' 𝗖𝗔𝗥𝗘 ─── ✿ smau . 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗇𝖾𝖾𝖽 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝗂𝗇𝗀 ! 𝗐𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀 ' cold jay bratty reader profanity e2l lwk public criticism ' ( 𝖽𝖺𝗂𝗅𝗒 𝖼𝗅𝗂𝖼𝗄 ) ♱ like and reblog ! 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝖽 . 𝗆𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗓𝗂𝗇𝖾

⠀ ‎‎𝐈𝐈 . O1 O2 O3 O4 O5 more tba

여키 EDITION . mj picked up his pen to write pyt after seeing park jongseong

⠀ join the taglist 💌 perm taglist ( send and ask or comment ) ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ pretty young thing taglist open !

⠀⠀𝖺 𝗒𝖾𝗈𝗄𝗂𝗂 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝖽. do not copy, repost or translate my works

[enhaflixer]

pjs. The Marriage Law

synopsis: A Marriage Law was the last thing you expected to dictate your future, let alone shackle you to Park Jongseong. A pureblood heir, painfully composed, infuriatingly good at everything, and—unfortunately—now your husband.

What starts as reluctant cohabitation, filled with awkward silences and sharp words, slowly unravels into something neither of you can ignore. Stolen glances, fleeting touches, and the illusion of normalcy turn into a dangerous game neither of you meant to play. Is it all for show? Or has the line between pretend and real already disappeared?

But love alone isn’t enough to erase the past—or the law that forced you together. As the Ministry looms over your every move, and whispers of rebellion grow louder, you and Jay must decide: fight the law, or fight for each other.

wc: around 20.5K

warnings: Marriage Law AU, Harry Potter AU, forced marriage, government control, slow burn, forced proximity, awkward domesticity, enemies to lovers, bickering, rivalry, mutual annoyance, emotional angst, hurt/comfort, doubt, insecurities, fear of the future, eventual smut, explicit sexual content, sexual tension, intense intimacy, fear of love, conflicted feelings, vulnerability, mentions of pregnancy, future parenthood, domesticity, soft Jay, pining, repressed feelings, denial, yearning, lingering touches, stolen glances, smut, sexual content, F! receiving.

A/N: PLEASE TELL ME WHAT YOU GUYS THINK I'D REALLY APPRECIATE THE FEEDBACK!!!!!

Masterlist

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The owl came at dawn.

You woke to the sharp tap, tap, tap against your window, the early morning light bleeding through the tattered curtains of your London flat. Sleep still clung to your body, but the incessant tapping forced you upright, rubbing the remnants of last night’s exhaustion from your eyes. You recognized the Ministry’s wax seal before your fingers even touched the envelope. Your stomach dropped.

It was here.

The letter you had been dreading for months. The whispers of the Marriage Law had been circulating for nearly a year, rumors passed between hushed conversations at pubs, in hidden corners of Diagon Alley, and among former classmates who refused to believe that the government could enforce such a thing. But deep down, you had known it was only a matter of time. The Ministry had already been heading in this direction for years, pushing for more control under the guise of restoration.

With a deep breath, you slid your nail under the seal, breaking it with a snap. The parchment unfurled in your hands, the ink dark against the crisp paper.

Dear Miss Y/N, By decree of the Magical Unity Act, you have been assigned a partner as part of the Ministry’s initiative to preserve and strengthen magical bloodlines. Your assigned match:  Park Jongseong. Pureblood. You are required to present yourself at the Ministry within 48 hours for the formalization of your union. Failure to comply will result in consequences deemed necessary by the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. We trust you will uphold your duty to preserve our magical world. Sincerely, Matilda Greengrass Head of the Magical Unity Office

Park Jongseong. Of all the people in the world, it had to be him.

You weren’t sure what to think. You had never hated Jongseong—not really. He had always been there in the background, a constant presence in your classes, a name that lingered on the top of exam scores just above yours. He was the type of person who excelled quietly, never rubbing his victories in your face, but still managing to be infuriating simply by existing. You had no idea what he thought of you. If he had any feelings about your academic rivalry, he had never shown it.

And now, he was going to be your husband.

You hadn’t even processed the letter properly before you found yourself in a booth at The Leaky Cauldron, sitting across from Riki. You had sent an urgent owl the moment you had read the letter, needing to talk to someone—anyone—who might understand.

Riki was younger than you by only a couple of years, but you had always seen him as something of a younger brother—mischievous, quick-witted, and annoyingly perceptive when it came to your emotions. He was the kind of friend who teased you relentlessly but would hex anyone who dared to cross you. If there was anyone you could turn to in a moment like this, it was him.

“You got him?” Riki’s eyebrows shot up when you showed him the parchment. “That’s...sure, yeah.”

You groaned, letting your head fall into your hands. “Don’t say it like that.”

“Well, I mean—it could be worse, " Riki shrugged, taking a sip of his Butterbeer, “He’s not, like, awful. He’s just...Jongseong. A bit awkward, not much of a talker, but not the worst person to be tied to for life.”

You groaned again. “That’s supposed to be comforting?”

He grinned. “A little,”

You shook your head, trying to focus. “I don’t even know how I’m going to tell my parents. They’re barely involved in my life as it is, and now I have to explain to them that I’ve been legally bound to someone they don’t even know?”

Riki’s face softened. He knew how complicated your relationship with your parents was—how they had never truly accepted the magical world, even after you got your Hogwarts letter. “You don’t have to tell them right away,” he said gently. “Focus on getting through this first.”

The Ministry of Magic smelled like ink, parchment, and old magic. The weight of history pressed down upon you as you walked through its grand halls, flanked by Aurors ensuring that every witch and wizard assigned under the Magical Unity Act appeared for their mandated marriage registrations. The building was colder than you remembered, or maybe it was the weight of what was about to happen that made you shiver.

Jongseong was already waiting when you arrived, standing stiffly in the corridor outside the registration chamber. His posture was impeccable, shoulders squared, his hands buried in the pockets of his finely tailored robes. The deep green fabric complimented his sharp features, accentuating the strong lines of his jaw and the dark intensity of his eyes. There was always something enigmatic about Jongseong—he was the type of person who carried an air of quiet authority, a man who never wasted unnecessary words. He rarely let his emotions show, but now, even beneath his composed expression, you could see the subtle signs of tension—the way his fingers tapped idly against the parchment he held, the way his lips pressed together a little too firmly.

You swallowed hard, gripping your own letter tightly. His eyes flickered toward you, assessing.

“Y/N.” His voice was steady, but there was something unreadable beneath it. He gave you a small nod, nothing overly familiar, yet not entirely cold.

The Ministry official cleared his throat, pulling you both out of the awkward moment.

”Park Jongseong and Y/N L/N,” he announced, his voice devoid of emotion, as if he had done this a hundred times before. He motioned toward the chamber doors. “Step inside. We will begin the legal binding process.”

Your breath hitched as you stepped forward, feeling the heat of Jongseong’s presence beside you.

The chamber was larger than you had expected, with high ceilings adorned with ancient runes glowing faintly in the dim light. At the center of the room stood a grand mahogany desk, where stacks of parchment were neatly arranged. Hovering above it was a blood-binding quill, pulsing faintly, attuned to the magic that would soon seal your fates.

“Please, be seated.”

You and Jongseong sat across from each other, the tension between you thick, though neither of you acknowledged it. The official took his place behind the desk, flipping open a massive leather-bound ledger.

“Before we proceed, it is my duty to inform you of the terms and expectations set forth by the Ministry under the Magical Unity Act. This marriage is legally binding under magical law, and both parties are required to uphold their roles as husband and wife.”

Your stomach twisted. You knew this was coming, but hearing it laid out so plainly made it harder to ignore.

“First, you will be required to cohabitate within the next twenty-four hours. The Ministry has provided accommodations, though should you choose to relocate, you must inform the Department of Magical Law Enforcement within seven days.”

Jongseong’s fingers drummed lightly against the desk, his gaze unreadable. He was listening carefully, though he gave nothing away.

“Second,” the official continued, flipping to another section of the document, “you will be required to consummate the marriage within one year. This will be monitored magically, and failure to do so may result in penalties.”

Your breath caught. You forced yourself to keep your expression neutral, but you couldn’t help the way your fingers curled slightly against your lap.

Jongseong’s face remained calm, though you thought you saw the faintest flicker of tension in his jaw.

“Third,” the official continued, “as part of the act’s goal to maintain the magical bloodline, you are expected to conceive a child within two years. Failure to comply will result in further legal interventions. Exceptions will only be granted under rare circumstances, such as medically confirmed infertility.”

You exhaled slowly, heart pounding. This was the part that had haunted you the most. It wasn’t just about being forced into marriage—it was about being forced to give up control over the future you had always imagined for yourself.

You had wanted children, eventually. You had imagined raising them in a world where they could make choices freely, where they could love and marry without being told when and how. But now, that dream had been reduced to a cold deadline set by the Ministry.

Jongseong finally spoke. “What are our rights in terms of autonomy?” His voice was calm, but there was steel beneath it.

The official barely looked up. “You are granted limited autonomy. While you may maintain employment and personal activities, your primary duty remains fulfilling the obligations of the act. Any attempt to break the contract is considered an act of defiance against the Ministry.”

Jongseong gave a slow nod, as if he had expected that answer but wanted it spoken aloud regardless. The official placed two scrolls of parchment in front of you, followed by the hovering blood-binding quill.

“By signing this document, you are agreeing to all conditions and responsibilities dictated by the Magical Unity Act. Once signed, the bond is sealed permanently under wizarding law. Any attempts to nullify it without Ministry approval will result in severe consequences.”

Jongseong’s eyes met yours then, and for the first time, there was something there—a quiet understanding, a shared reluctance. Neither of you wanted this. But there was no choice.

With a deep breath, you reached for the quill. The moment your fingers touched it, a sharp, warm sensation prickled against your skin, and the magic within it stirred in response. You watched as your name etched itself onto the parchment in deep crimson ink.

Across from you, Jongseong did the same.

The moment his signature was completed, the parchment glowed gold, sealing the contract. A faint hum of magic filled the air as the binding took effect.

It was done. You were married.

The official gave a brisk nod, gathering the signed documents. “The bond is sealed. You are now husband and wife under magical law.” He closed the ledger with a dull thud before standing. “Congratulations.”

The word felt hollow.

The moment you stepped into the apartment the Ministry had assigned, the full weight of your situation slammed into you. This wasn’t just a bureaucratic nightmare anymore. It was real. It was your life.

The space was larger than you expected, a sleek, magically expanded flat that felt caught between two worlds—modern and traditional, functional and intimate, impersonal yet unsettlingly designed for romance. It was clear that whoever had designed these living quarters had done so with the idea of a happily married couple in mind.

The open-concept living space had softly enchanted lighting, walls painted in neutral, calming tones that could be adjusted to fit the residents' “mood.” A fireplace sat in the center of the lounge, with a plush sofa curved just enough to suggest cozy nights spent tangled together. The kitchen was fully stocked, fitted with both Muggle and magical appliances, making it impossible to avoid the domestic intimacy the Ministry seemed so determined to impose.

Two bedrooms were set at opposite ends of the flat, though one was clearly meant to be temporary. The master bedroom, which you tried to ignore, was the worst of it. The king-sized bed was too large, too luxurious, the silk sheets far too inviting. The enchanted wardrobes had already been merged, both your belongings stored together, blending lives you hadn’t chosen to entwine.

Even the bathroom was designed for two people meant to share everything. The tub was massive, the type built for indulgent baths, fitted with potion-infused oils meant to relax muscles—meant to encourage closeness. The sinks, the mirrors, the counter space—everything was structured with a life of intimacy in mind.

Jongseong was standing stiffly just inside the doorway, his hands still shoved into the pockets of his dark robes. He looked as out of place as you felt. His eyes flickered over the surroundings, lingering on the details, his expression betraying nothing.

“Well,” he said, finally breaking the silence. “This is… something.”

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. “Yeah.”

An awkward pause stretched between you. Neither of you moved.

You cleared your throat. “So… Do you want to set some ground rules?”

Jongseong finally looked at you, his head tilting slightly. “Ground rules?”

You shifted uncomfortably. “For… coexisting.”

A flicker of amusement crossed his face, but it disappeared just as quickly. “Fair enough.” He nodded toward the hallway. “You can take the bedroom on the left.”

You hesitated. “The Ministry expects us to share one eventually.”

His jaw tightened slightly, but his voice remained calm. “We don’t have to rush into that.”

You let out a breath of relief. “Good.”

Another silence settled. This was going to be excruciating.

You thought the first night would be easier because you had separate rooms. It wasn’t.

The walls were too thin. Every tiny shift, every creak of the floorboards, every sigh of the bed linens as one of you turned over—it was impossible to forget that you weren’t alone. That there was someone else here, just a few steps away, existing in the same space, adjusting to the same forced reality.

You lay awake for hours, staring at the ceiling, feeling every inch of the strangeness that had settled into your life. The silence of the apartment was deafening. Somewhere beyond your door, Jongseong was doing the same. Not sleeping. Not moving. Just existing in this same, uncomfortable limbo.

You weren’t sure how long you lay there before you heard it—

A soft, almost hesitant knock on your door.

You sat up immediately, heart stammering in your chest. “…Yeah?”

You moved toward the coffee pot, pretending not to notice how he was gripping his quill a little too tightly. The sight of him already reading the regulations booklet made your stomach twist. You weren’t sure if you wanted to know what new absurdities the Ministry had included.

“What’s that?” you asked warily.

Jongseong turned the booklet toward you so you could see the bold title stamped on the front.

A Guide to Magical Marital Expectations: Understanding the Unity Act.

You stared at him. “You’re actually reading that?”

He shrugged, flipping to the next page. “Figured it might be useful to know what we’re legally bound to.”

You sighed, sinking into the chair across from him. “And? What’s in it?”

Jongseong skimmed a few lines before speaking. “Mostly just reinforcing what we were already told. Cohabitation, marital duties, legal ramifications if we break the contract.” He hesitated, his fingers pausing on the page. His jaw tensed slightly, and that was when you knew whatever he had just read wasn’t going to be pleasant.

A beat of silence.

Bravely, you cleared your throat. “What else are you working on?”

Jongseong’s eyes flickered up briefly before he tapped the page with his quill. “Just organizing my work schedule. Trying to figure out how to balance—” He gestured vaguely between the two of you. “All of this.”

Right. Work. You hadn’t even thought about how this new life would affect your schedules. You needed to figure out yours, his, how to exist in this space without stepping on each other’s toes.

“I have a morning shift at Flourish and Blotts starting tomorrow,” you said after a pause. “And I have an evening class twice a week.”

Jongseong nodded slowly. “I start work at the Ministry at eight every morning. Sometimes later, depending on meetings. But I’m usually back by seven.”

You absorbed that. That meant you’d have the mornings mostly to yourself, but the evenings… “So we’ll see each other mostly at night.”

“Yeah.” His expression didn’t change, but there was something unreadable in his gaze. Maybe he was just as wary of that realization as you were.

You stirred your coffee absentmindedly. “And, uh… weekends?”

He exhaled, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t usually work on weekends, but I study. And sometimes I meet up with friends.”

Right. Friends. You almost forgot that, despite everything, he had a life outside of this.

That thought stuck with you longer than it should have. Maybe because you were realizing that your life, your freedom, had been traded in for something else. For something you didn’t get to choose.

“Oh,” he said flatly. “Also.” He looked up at you, his dark eyes unreadable. “The shared bed rule.”

You grimaced. “I was hoping they’d forgotten about that part.”

Jongseong sighed, setting the booklet down with more force than necessary. “Unfortunately, the Ministry doesn’t forget anything.”

The booklet sat between you on the table, the pages filled with carefully worded regulations, all designed to ensure that the couples formed under the Magical Unity Act fulfilled their “duties.” The words seemed too sharp, too final, as if they carried an unspoken command beneath them.

Your fingers curled around the edge of your mug as you read the clause for yourself.

Clause 7.3 - Marital CohabitationIn order to promote a natural and successful union, married partners must reside within a shared living space and engage in consistent physical proximity.

It is required that both parties sleep within the same quarters by the third month of marriage.

Noncompliance will result in Ministry intervention.

You exhaled sharply, closing your eyes for a moment. “They’re really monitoring everything.”

Jongseong tapped his fingers against the table, his expression carefully neutral. “We have three months to figure that part out.”

You rubbed your temples. “Three months is… not a lot of time.”

He looked at you for a long moment before setting the booklet aside. “We’ll deal with it when we have to.”

And for some reason, that stuck with you.

Jongseong—or Jay, as his closest friends called him—was totally unamused by his morning conversation.

He sat at his desk in the Ministry, flipping through paperwork as Jake lounged against the opposite desk, watching him with a knowing look. The blond Auror had a casual ease about him, one leg stretched out, a quill spinning between his fingers as he regarded Jay with mild amusement.

“So,” Jake finally said, dragging out the word. “How’s married life?”

Jay didn’t look up. “It’s fine.”

His friend snorted, adjusting his robes as he leaned in. “Oh, come on. I know you better than that.”

Jay set his quill down with a sigh. “What do you want me to say?”

Jake tilted his head, considering. “I don’t know. That she’s unbearable? That she’s the love of your life? That you’ve realized you actually have a thing for arranged marriages?”

Unamused, Jay shot him a flat look. “None of the above.”

But the blond was relentless, he leaned forward, arms resting on the desk. “So, what? You guys are just awkwardly existing in the same space?”

Jay hesitated, fingers tapping against the parchment in front of him. “…Something like that.”

“Is she at least decent company?”

Jay exhaled, stretching his arms before finally looking up. “She’s normal. It’s awkward. We’re trying to figure out how to coexist without making it worse.”

“Makes sense. I mean, you didn’t exactly get a say in this. Neither of you did.”

Jay appreciated that Jake wasn’t trying to force humor into the situation, not like their other friends probably would. Jake had a way of knowing when to joke and when to actually listen, which was why he was one of the few people Jay actually talked to about things that mattered.

the Australian smirked. “Alright, I’ll leave it alone. But tell me one thing.”

Jay raised an eyebrow. “What?”

The blond's grin was slow and knowing. “Do you find her attractive?”

Jay’s hand froze mid-page turn.

Jake caught it immediately. “Ohhh. That’s interesting.”

rolling his eyes, setting the file aside a little too forcefully, the married man in question responds. “I didn’t say anything.”

“You didn’t have to.”

Jay pinched the bridge of his nose. “You’re insufferable.”

Jake laughed, standing up and stretching. “Well, I’d say welcome to married life, but…” He gave his friend a mockingly sympathetic pat on the shoulder. “I’m sure you’ve already figured out it’s a mess.”

Jay shoved his hand away. “Get out of my office.”

“See you at lunch, hubby.”

Jay groaned as Jake walked away, already regretting every life decision that had led to this conversation.

Jongseong was a morning person. You learned that quickly.

He was always the first to wake up, moving around the apartment with an effortless ease that was frankly annoying to someone like you, who preferred to cling to sleep for as long as possible. You often woke to the sound of the shower running, the smell of coffee brewing, and the faint rustling of parchment as he read through Ministry documents while waiting for breakfast.

This morning was no different a few weeks later.

By the time you groggily dragged yourself out of bed, Jongseong was already fresh out of the shower, hair still damp, a towel slung low around his waist. His toned chest and broad shoulders glowed slightly in the morning light, water droplets still clinging to his skin as he casually walked toward his dresser, seemingly unaware—or unbothered—by your presence.

You immediately averted your eyes, heart stammering in your chest. But you could still feel him, still sense the heat radiating off his skin, and the way the air seemed thicker in his presence.

“Morning,” he greeted smoothly, voice still slightly hoarse from sleep.

Your throat felt impossibly dry. “Yeah. Morning.”

He smirked slightly, as if noticing your discomfort, and continued dressing—slowly. The deliberate way he pulled his shirt over his head before taking it off again, deciding he wanted a different one, the flex of his muscles, the way he pushed his damp hair back… it was infuriatingly distracting.

You turned toward the kitchen in desperation, fingers gripping the edge of the counter as you tried to steady yourself. You were not going to be affected by this.

But then he walked past you, his bare arm brushing against yours, the heat of his skin searing through the fabric of your sleeve. You felt the breath hitch in your throat, a sudden rush of awareness sparking along your spine.

You had just taken your first sip of coffee, finally feeling somewhat human, when a loud knock echoed through the apartment. You and Jongseong exchanged a glance.

“Expecting someone?” you asked.

He sighed, setting his mug down. “No. But I have a bad feeling about it.”

The moment Jongseong opened the door, a tall, severe-looking woman in a charcoal robe strode in without invitation. She introduced herself as Ms. Alderton, her expression a mixture of polite authority and thinly veiled scrutiny.

“We’re conducting routine compliance inspections under the Magical Unity Act,” she said, flipping through her clipboard. “It’s a simple process, really. Just verifying that the two of you are… adjusting well to married life.”

Your stomach dropped.

Jongseong had not finished dressing.

He was still only wearing a towel around his waist.

You saw the exact moment Ms. Alderton’s eyes flickered downward—not in a scandalized way, but in a very obvious assessment of the situation.

“Oh.” She blinked, arching an eyebrow. “I see I’ve caught you at a… private moment.”

Jongseong’s entire body tensed. You scrambled to grab his shirt off the chair and shove it at him.

“Right, um, we weren’t expecting company,” you said quickly, willing your face not to burn.

Jongseong took the shirt, clearing his throat as he pulled it on, but not before you saw the way his abs tightened under the scrutiny, the way his fingers twitched as he buttoned his shirt with forced composure.

Ms. Alderton hummed, clearly unimpressed. She began the inspection, moving through the apartment with cold efficiency.

She examined your living quarters, asked too many questions about how often you and Jay were together in the same space, and, of course, dropped the expected question:

“And how are you finding the transition into… intimacy?”

You nearly choked on your tea.

Jongseong, to his credit, didn’t flinch. “We’re taking our time with that,” he said evenly. “As I’m sure the Ministry is aware, not all couples move at the same pace.”

Ms. Alderton gave him a knowing look, scribbling something onto her parchment. “Well, as you both know, there are expectations to be met. We’ll check in again soon.”

And with that, she was gone, leaving the weight of her unspoken warnings hanging in the air.

You let out a long breath, still feeling the residual heat of the morning’s tension clinging to your skin.

At work, Jongseong barely had time to sit at his desk before Jake was on him.

“Alright, listen, I’ve been patient, but you’re dodging, man,” the blond Auror said, plopping down in the chair across from Jay’s desk. “We need to meet her.”

Jay sighed, rubbing his temple. “It’s really not that big of a deal.”

Jake gave him a pointed look. “You’ve been married for weeks and we haven’t even met your wife. Sunghoon’s convinced you made her up.”

“We’re fine. We’re adjusting. That’s all you need to know.”

Jake smirked. “See, the more you say it’s fine, the less I believe it.”

“You’re impossible.”

Jake shrugged. “That’s why you love me. So, what do you say? A small get-together. Nothing crazy.”

Jay sighed again, but this time, he hesitated. He knew the Blond wouldn’t let this go.

“I’ll… think about it.”

When Jay got home that evening, you could immediately tell something was on his mind.

“What is it?” you asked, watching as he loosened his tie.

“Jake keeps pushing for us to meet up with him and the guys,” Jay admitted, running a hand through his hair. “I told him we were fine, but he wasn’t buying it.”

You thought about it for a moment before shrugging. “Maybe we should.”

Jay raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

You nodded. “I mean, we’re supposed to be building a life together, right? It might help to actually know the people in it. And… if something ever happens, it’d be good to have them as a support system.”

Jay studied you for a moment, then sighed. “Alright. But there’s an issue,” You arched your brow in response, “ They think we’re like them, you know, more settled into our married life” 

“Ah, I see.” 

He chuckled dryly, “And I haven’t had the chance to correct them.”

And that was how you found yourself getting ready to put on a show.

You weren’t sure why you felt so on edge. It was just a night out with his friends—people who, by all accounts, had no real expectations of you beyond existing at Jongseong’s side. But still, as you stood in front of the mirror, adjusting your outfit for what felt like the tenth time, something in your chest felt tight.

Jongseong passed by behind you, fastening the cuff of his crisp, navy button-up. The color complemented his complexion unfairly well, the sleeves neatly rolled up to his forearms, just casual enough to look effortless.

His reflection met yours in the mirror. “Are you ready yet?” he asked, smoothing a hand through his hair.

You exhaled through your nose. “You act like getting ready is as simple as putting on a shirt.”

He smirked. “It is, actually.”

You rolled your eyes but didn’t push it. Instead, you turned slightly, watching as he undid the top two buttons of his shirt, exposing just the faintest sliver of his collarbone. It wasn’t intentional, but it made something stir deep in your stomach.

The silence stretched between you as you turned back toward the mirror. He lingered behind you, close enough that the warmth of his body made the air feel heavier.

His voice came softer this time. “You look fine.”

Fine. Not breathtaking, not beautiful—just fine.

You scoffed lightly, shaking your head. “Your enthusiasm is overwhelming.”

Jongseong’s gaze flickered over you, his brows drawing together slightly like he wanted to say something else but thought better of it. Instead, he just let out a short exhale and reached for his wand. “Let’s go before Jake tracks me down and drags us there himself.”

As he stepped closer, brushing past you to grab his jacket, your breath caught in your throat. The scent of his cologne—clean, warm, just faintly spiced—wrapped around you before you could react. Your skin prickled as he leaned past you, his fingers grazing the dresser beside you.

You didn’t move until he pulled back, adjusting the cuff of his sleeve with practiced ease. Jongseong glanced at you once more, amusement dancing in his dark eyes, before he disappeared into the Floo Network.

You stepped into the Floo Network, watching as Jongseong disappeared in a swirl of green flames before following suit. The familiar tug of magic sent you tumbling through the space between, and in the next moment, you landed just behind him in the bustling pub.

The scent of warm ale, roasted meat, and burning firewood wrapped around you, the low murmur of conversation filling the air. The pub was lively but not overly packed—just busy enough to feel comfortably distracting.

Jongseong placed a hand on the small of your back, guiding you through the crowd. His touch was light, but it lingered, a silent reminder that this was part of the act.

Jake spotted you first, grinning. “There they are!” He leaned back in his chair, tilting his glass toward you both. “The happy couple.”

You tried not to stiffen at the word. Happy. That was the goal, right?

Jongseong slipped into the role easily, his arm around your waist a little firmer now. “You make it sound like we’ve been in hiding.”

Jake clapped him on the back as everyone scooted over to make space. “Well, you have! We needed proof you didn’t just run away.”

The conversation flowed smoothly, the group’s laughter blending into the warm, buzzing atmosphere. But you couldn’t help noticing the way Jongseong’s hand lingered on your waist, the way his thumb traced lazy circles over the fabric of your dress. It was subtle—just enough to be convincing, just enough to make your pulse jump.

Sunghoon smirked, raising a brow. “So, how’s married life? Are you two still in the honeymoon phase?”

Jake chuckled. “Yeah, Jay keeps insisting they’re doing just great.”

You felt Jongseong’s hand tighten slightly on your hip as he hummed in agreement. “We are.”

And then, before you could react, he leaned in and pressed a kiss to your temple.

It was brief, chaste, and yet… oddly intimate. His lips lingered just long enough to make your skin prickle with awareness.

The table burst into cheers.

As the night went on, the conversation shifted from teasing to storytelling. Jake leaned back in his seat, shaking his head fondly. “You know, I still don’t know how the hell Jay managed to get through Hogwarts without completely embarrassing himself.”

Sunghoon chuckled. “That’s because he had us covering for him.”

Jongseong scoffed. “You mean causing more problems than helping?”

Jake smirked. “Call it whatever you want, mate. But let’s not forget that one time you tried to impress a girl by showing off on the Quidditch pitch and almost broke your arm.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Now this sounds like a story I need to hear.”

Jake grinned. “See, back in school, Jay was all business, all the time. But one day, some girl in Ravenclaw was watching him practice, and he got it in his head that he should show off—flew higher than necessary, tried a fancy dive, and nearly knocked himself unconscious.”

Heeseung chuckled, shaking his head. “Ah, young love.”

Sunghoon leaned in. “Speaking of, we should all introduce our wives one day. Maybe have a proper dinner.”

Jongseong stiffened slightly, and you felt it. But before he could say anything, you jumped in.

“That would be nice,” you said, smiling. “Though, I’ll admit, I’d probably be terrible at hosting.”

Jake waved a hand. “Nah, don’t worry about that. Besides, I heard you’re friends with Riki?”

Your brows lifted. “Yeah, I basically treat him like my little brother.”

Jake laughed. “Figures. We were both in the Gryffindor Quidditch Team. He was a Seeker, I was a Chaser—best duo ever.”

Sunghoon snorted. “And yet, somehow, Jay was the one always getting all the attention.”

Jake groaned. “Don’t remind me.”

The banter continued, light and warm, and despite yourself, you found that you were enjoying it. The illusion of normalcy was beginning to feel real.

Jongseong wasn’t just your forced husband tonight—he was someone who had a past, who had friends that truly cared about him. And maybe, you were starting to see why people cared about him, too.

The moment the Floo Network spit you both out into the apartment, the spell of the night started to break. Gone was the warm, buzzing atmosphere of the pub. Now, there was only quiet, filled with nothing but the ticking of the enchanted clock on the wall and the soft rustle of Jongseong adjusting his sleeves.

You expected him to make some dry remark about the night, maybe joke about Jake’s relentless teasing. But instead, he just stood there, staring at you with an expression you couldn’t quite place.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

You blinked, taken aback. “I—yeah. Why?”

He exhaled through his nose, running a hand through his hair. “You were… different tonight.”

Your throat felt dry. “We were both acting.”

“Yeah.” His voice was quiet, unreadable. “I know.”

Neither of you moved. Neither of you quite knew what to do now.

The next few days were… different. Not drastic, not obvious, but something had changed. You noticed it in the way Jongseong lingered in rooms a little longer than before, the way his gaze flickered to you more often, the way silence between you no longer felt so hostile—just heavy.

Even the small moments carried weight. The way he passed you a cup of coffee in the mornings without needing to ask how you took it. The way he let his hand linger just a fraction longer than necessary when handing you something. The way your name sounded softer when he spoke it.

It was nothing. It was everything.

And then came the first real break in the routine.

You hadn’t expected to see Jongseong standing outside your workplace that evening. His presence was striking against the backdrop of hurried Ministry employees, his sleeves rolled up, arms crossed over his chest as he leaned against a lamppost.

For a moment, you just stared, thrown by the sight of him waiting for you.

It felt unnatural—this wasn’t part of your unspoken agreement. You met in shared spaces at home, interacted when necessary, but waiting for each other? That was… different.

You hesitated before approaching. “What are you doing here?”

Jongseong glanced up, his dark eyes flickering over you before he straightened. “Picking you up.”

Your eyebrows shot up. “Since when do we do that?”

Jongseong exhaled, shifting his weight. “Since now.”

You studied him, waiting for an explanation that never came. Instead, he pushed off the lamppost and nodded toward the street. “Come on.”

A flicker of uncertainty settled in your stomach as you fell into step beside him. You weren’t used to this—him reaching out first.

As you walked, the sounds of Diagon Alley surrounded you—shopkeepers closing up for the night, the faint hum of distant chatter, the flickering glow of enchanted street lamps. But the quiet between you was louder.

At some point, he spoke again. “You get along with them.”

You glanced at him. “With who?”

“My friends.”

You hummed. “They’re easy to like.”

Jongseong nodded, his hands tucked into his pockets. His steps were measured, like he was choosing his words carefully.

“They like you too.”

Your fingers tightened slightly around your bag strap. Was that what this was about?

“You fit in well,” he added, his voice lower.

Something warm unfurled in your stomach. “Would it have been a problem if I didn’t?”

Jongseong smirked, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Jake would’ve grilled you until you caved.”

You laughed, and for a moment, things felt effortless.

But as you reached the entrance of your shared home, a thought lingered at the back of your mind.

Why did he come to get you in the first place?

It was well past midnight when you shuffled into the kitchen, craving nothing more than a glass of water. You weren’t expecting to see Jongseong standing there, already by the counter, a mug in his hands.

He turned at the sound of your footsteps, his gaze flickering down your figure.

It wasn’t until you followed his line of sight that you realized exactly what you were wearing.

A nightshirt. Just a nightshirt. One that barely skimmed the tops of your thighs.

You hadn’t thought about it before leaving your room, but now, under his scrutiny, it suddenly felt like the single most scandalous thing you could’ve worn.

Jongseong cleared his throat. “Couldn’t sleep?”

You nodded, stepping closer, reaching for a glass. His presence felt larger in the quiet, like it filled the room in ways you weren’t prepared for. Like he was waiting for something neither of you had the words for.

After a moment, you sighed, staring into your mug as if the swirling liquid inside had all the answers. “I texted my parents about… this,” you finally admitted, gesturing vaguely between the two of you. “Two weeks ago.”

Jongseong’s eyes flickered with something unreadable, but he didn’t interrupt.

“They never replied,” you continued, voice carefully even. “Not that I was expecting them to.”

Jongseongs fingers tapped lightly against the table, a thoughtful rhythm. “They’re Muggles, right?”

You nodded, forcing a small smile. “Yeah. I didn’t exactly have the best relationship with them before this. But I thought—” You paused, exhaling sharply. “I thought they’d at least say something.”

He was quiet for a long moment before he spoke again, his voice softer than before. “Maybe they just… don’t know how to respond.”

You scoffed, shaking your head. “Or maybe they just don’t care.”

Jongseong shifted in his seat, glancing down at his hands. He looked like he wanted to say something, to reach for the right words, but he hesitated. Instead, he settled for a careful, almost reluctant, “I’m sorry.”

You lifted a shoulder in a half-hearted shrug. “It’s fine.”

The silence stretched. The air felt thick. Too thick.

He exhaled through his nose, eyes flickering up to yours. And for the first time, you didn’t look away.

His fingers twitched. His jaw tensed. His eyes darkened, just slightly. And then, he took a step back. A deliberate one.

You swallowed. “I should—”

“Yeah.” His voice was lower than before. Rougher. “Me too.”

Neither of you moved for a long moment. And then you did.

The next morning, the reminder came. A letter, crisp and official, waiting for both of you on the breakfast table.

Jongseong opened it first, scanning the words, his jaw tightening. You peered over.

Ministry of Magic Directive 492-B: Cohabitation Progress Assessment As part of your continued marital integration, you are required to submit a Cohabitation Progress Report detailing shared living arrangements and physical proximity. As per Clause 7.3 of the Unity Act, proof of continued cohabitation will be assessed in the next Ministry visit. Failure to comply with expectations may result in reassessment and intervention.

You let out a slow breath. “They’re watching us closer now.”

Jongseong scoffed, tossing the letter aside. “Of course they are.”

Your fingers curled around the edge of the table. Something about the wording unsettled you.

“Physical proximity,” you murmured. “They’re pushing for more.”

Jongseong ran a hand through his hair, looking anywhere but at you. “Yeah.”

Silence.

The weight of the words hung in the air between you, heavy and suffocating.

“We need to practice.”

You looked up from your book, momentarily caught off guard. “Practice what?”

He closed his own book, exhaling like he had already anticipated your reaction. “Being more… natural with each other. The Ministry is expecting real signs of a relationship, not just two people coexisting in the same space.”

You swallowed, shifting slightly. “You mean touching, kissing, all of that?”

He nodded, meeting your gaze with a calmness that only made your stomach tighten further. He wasn’t wrong, of course. If anything, you should have expected this conversation to happen sooner. But something about the way he said it—so practical, so unaffected—sent a nervous flicker through your chest.

“How do you want to start?” you asked, your voice steadier than you felt.

Jongseong hesitated for only a moment before he pushed himself off the couch and extended a hand. “Come here.”

You stared at his outstretched fingers, debating, before finally placing your hand in his. His palm was warm, steady, and as he gently pulled you up, you felt your breath catch slightly at how close he was now.

“Hugging first,” he murmured, like he was giving instructions.

You exhaled softly before stepping forward, wrapping your arms around his waist. It felt awkward at first—stiff, calculated—but then, as his arms circled around you in response, something shifted. He was warm, solid, and despite the tension in your shoulders, there was a comfort in the closeness. You felt the slow, steady rise and fall of his chest, the way his fingers rested lightly against your back.

“This isn’t terrible,” he muttered, voice lower than usual.

You huffed a small laugh, eyes still pressed against his chest. “High praise.”

He chuckled, a small vibration against your body. The silence stretched between you, no longer heavy with hesitation but something else—something unspoken. You weren’t sure how long you stood like that before he finally murmured, “Next.”

You swallowed, stepping back slightly. His hands lingered a second longer than necessary before dropping away.

“Kissing?” you asked, trying to sound casual.

Jongseong nodded, something unreadable flickering in his gaze. “We should get used to it.”

You inhaled, forcing yourself to meet his gaze head-on. “Alright.”

His fingers reached for your chin, tilting it up slightly, and the air in the room seemed to shift. He didn’t move immediately, as if gauging your reaction, waiting for the tension to settle before he finally leaned in.

The first brush of his lips was light, cautious. Testing.

Your breath caught. It was such a simple touch, barely there, and yet it sent a strange warmth curling in your stomach. His lips were soft, warm, lingering just a moment longer than necessary before he pressed in again—this time firmer, deeper.

A slow, deliberate slide of lips.

Your fingers curled involuntarily into his shirt, as if steadying yourself, as his lips moved against yours with a patience that sent your pulse hammering in your ears. He wasn’t rushing, wasn’t merely going through the motions. He was learning you.

There was something unbearably intimate about it, something in the way he lingered, in the way his fingers flexed slightly against your waist. Like he wasn’t sure where to place his hands, but he knew he didn’t want to let go.

Your own breath had turned uneven, the warmth between you making your skin prickle. You weren’t supposed to feel this. It was just practice. Just a test.

And yet, your heart betrayed you with every second he refused to pull away.

Just when you thought he was done, his lips barely parted from yours, he hesitated—and then he pressed a featherlight kiss to the corner of your lips, softer than the first, but somehow infinitely more dangerous.

Your eyes snapped open, breath stalling in your throat.

Jongseong didn’t move for a second, his gaze locked on yours as if waiting for a reaction. Then, he took a small step back, clearing his throat. “See? Not so hard.”

You exhaled shakily, forcing a smirk. “Speak for yourself.”

He smiled slightly, but there was something else there now. Something neither of you were quite ready to address.

That night, long after you had gone to bed, you lay awake, staring at the ceiling. The feel of his lips hadn’t left you. The warmth of his touch still clung to your skin, lingering in a way that made sleep impossible.

The first morning after the kiss, you had been unsure what to expect. Would he pretend it hadn’t happened? Would the air be awkward between you?

You walked into the kitchen, rubbing sleep from your eyes, and saw him standing by the stove, making coffee like he always did. The difference was how he looked at you.

"Morning," he said, and before you could respond, he reached out, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear with an ease that made your stomach turn over. The touch was fleeting, barely there, yet entirely intentional.

By the second day, it was a hand at your waist when he passed by you in the hallway, fingers lingering as if testing his boundaries. You weren’t sure when it started feeling natural, but you knew that by the third day, when Jongseong pressed a small peck to your temple as he handed you your morning coffee, you didn’t freeze.

You accepted it.

Maybe even welcomed it.

By then, you had decided that if he could do it so easily, so could you. That morning, before leaving for work, you turned back to him just as you reached the door.

"See you later," you murmured, before pressing a quick peck to his cheek.

It was supposed to be casual, unthinking, but as soon as you stepped back, you caught the slight widening of his eyes before he composed himself. You had caught him off guard.

You swallowed, feigning nonchalance, before leaving quickly. You were the one initiating now.

It was the second evening when Jongseong offered to pick you up from work again.

"If people see us together more often, it might help with the whole convincing thing," he had reasoned.

Logical. Sensible. Everything Jongseong was.

Except when he showed up outside your building, leaning against the stone wall with his hands in his coat pockets, looking entirely unbothered while your coworkers noticed.

"Your husband’s here again," one of them teased as they nudged you.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t fight the heat crawling up your neck as you stepped outside. He looked good under the streetlights, the cool air turning his skin slightly pink. His gaze met yours, and something flickered in his eyes before he pushed off the wall and walked toward you.

"Long day?" he asked as he fell into step beside you.

"Exhausting," you murmured. "Thanks for picking me up."

He glanced at you, then, as if on impulse, reached for your hand. Not a performance. Just instinct. His fingers laced through yours with the same steadiness he always carried, and even though you told yourself it was just for show, your pulse didn’t get the memo.

Halfway down the street, you spotted a familiar figure across the road—Jake. He caught sight of you at the same time, waving enthusiastically.

Without thinking, you smiled and waved back. "Jake!"

Jongseong’s grip on your hand tightened slightly, just barely noticeable, but he didn’t say anything.

Jake grinned, giving a knowing look before disappearing into the crowd. You cleared your throat, hoping Jongseong didn’t read into anything. But of course, he had noticed.

The morning of the visit felt different. Heavier.

You woke up to the quiet sounds of Jongseong moving around the flat, the faint scent of coffee drifting through the air. The weight of the upcoming meeting sat in your chest like a stone—there was no ignoring the fact that today, the Ministry would scrutinize everything you and Jongseong had been working toward.

You lingered in bed for a moment longer than usual, staring at the ceiling, feeling the heat of your own overactive thoughts. Had you practiced enough? Would they believe you? Would they catch on that some of these moments had started feeling far too real?

You sighed, forcing yourself up, and padded into the kitchen. Jongseong was leaning against the counter, arms crossed as he sipped from his mug. His hair was still damp from his shower, sticking to his forehead slightly, and—

You blinked. He wasn’t wearing a shirt.

Again.

Jongseong barely acknowledged you as he took another sip of coffee, then set the mug down with an exhale. “We should go over a few things before they get here.”

You were still staring at his bare chest, lips slightly parted. It wasn’t the first time you’d seen him like this—Merlin, you lived together now—but something about it felt different today.

“Uh,” you said eloquently. “You’re—”

“I know,” he replied, completely unbothered. “I forgot to grab my shirt from the other room.”

Before you could respond, a loud knock at the door shattered the moment.

Panic seized your chest.

“They’re early?” you hissed.

Jongseong swore under his breath, grabbing for the nearest thing—your cardigan, which had been draped over a chair. He threw it at you before sprinting toward the bedroom, leaving you standing there, gripping the fabric uselessly as another knock sounded.

Forcing down your nerves, you rushed to the door, opening it just enough to see the official standing there, a clipboard in hand.

“Mrs. Park?” the man asked in a clipped tone.

“Yes,” you said, trying to sound composed.

“We’re here for the cohabitation assessment,” he continued, adjusting his glasses as he glanced down at his paperwork. “May we come in?”

You stepped aside, letting them in, just as Jongseong reappeared—this time fully dressed, but slightly breathless. The Ministry official’s gaze flickered between you both, already taking notes.

The official took a seat at the dining table, motioning for both of you to do the same. His assistant, a younger witch with keen eyes, remained standing near the bookshelf, observing.

“We’ll start with some basic questions,” the man said, clicking his quill against the parchment. “How has married life been treating you both?”

Jongseong leaned back slightly, arm draping over the back of your chair in a practiced motion. “It’s been an adjustment,” he said smoothly, glancing at you with what looked like amusement. “But we’re settling in well.”

The official hummed, eyes narrowing. “What would you say has been the biggest change since getting married?”

You hesitated, heart pounding. What was a normal answer?

Jongseong, of course, had no problem answering. “Waking up to each other in the house.”

You nearly choked on air.

The official scribbled something down. “And how do you usually spend your evenings together?”

Your mind raced. Jongseong was the first to respond, again, far too at ease with all of this. “Dinner, talking about our days, sometimes reading together on the couch.”

That was true. But the way he was selling it so smoothly made heat creep up your neck.

The assistant tilted her head. “And your sleeping arrangements?”

The air in the room thickened.

Jongseong barely hesitated. “We have separate rooms for now, but we’re adjusting.”

The official’s quill paused. A bad sign.

“That will need to change,” he said briskly. “As you know, starting next week, it will be mandatory for all married couples under this law to share a bedroom. The Ministry will have enchantments in place to verify compliance. Any deviation from this could result in a reevaluation of your union.”

Your stomach twisted. They were going to monitor your sleeping arrangements?

The assistant added, “It’s a common concern among couples who haven’t previously lived together, but physical closeness is a necessary step toward a successful marriage.”

Your hands clenched beneath the table. Necessary? Successful? What did that even mean in a marriage you hadn’t chosen?

The official leaned forward slightly. “Are you prepared for that transition?”

Jongseong’s grip on the back of your chair tightened just slightly before he nodded. “Of course.”

The official’s gaze flickered between you two, scrutinizing every reaction, every hesitation. “Then we will expect that adjustment to be complete by the next check-in.”

The assistant cleared her throat. “One last thing. We need to verify your comfort with one another.”

You barely had time to process before Jongseong’s fingers curled under your chin, tilting your face toward him.

You should’ve seen it coming.

His lips brushed against yours softly, gently at first. But the moment your breath caught, the moment he felt your fingers instinctively tighten around his, he pressed in just a little more—lingering, deepening, turning what should have been just for show into something you didn’t know how to categorize.

By the time he pulled away, your pulse was hammering.

The official seemed satisfied. “That will do.”

Jongseong didn’t let go of your hand.

The Ministry left shortly after, having seen enough. The moment the door shut behind them, you turned to Jongseong, heart still racing.

“That was—”

“Convincing?” he supplied, arching an eyebrow. He still hadn’t let go of your hand.

You swallowed. “You didn’t have to—”

He cut you off, voice lower. “Would you rather I hadn’t?”

You had no answer to that.

Because the truth was, you weren’t sure anymore.

And, worse still, in just a few days, you wouldn’t be able to avoid the reality of what the Ministry expected from you.

You weren’t just playing house anymore. You were about to start living in it.

You remained standing by the door, arms crossed, still feeling the weight of their scrutiny on your skin. The words lingered between you and Jongseong like an unspoken curse.

You must share a bedroom. You must be physically close. The Ministry will verify.

You turned slowly, eyes meeting Jongseong’s. He was still standing near the table, fingers drumming against the wood. He looked composed—too composed, like he hadn’t just promised the officials something neither of you had fully prepared for.

“You said it so easily,” you muttered.

Jongseong raised a brow. “Would you rather I had hesitated?”

Your arms tightened around yourself. “I don’t know.”

His expression remained impassive, but something in the air shifted—thick, charged with something unspoken.

You swallowed. “We have a week.”

“Six days.”

Your gaze snapped up. “You’re counting?”

He shrugged. “It’s important.”

You exhaled sharply and turned toward the hallway. The flat wasn’t huge, but it had two bedrooms. Your bedroom and his. The safe distance you had clung to was suddenly about to vanish.

You crossed your arms tighter over your chest. “We need to figure out how to do this.”

Jongseong ran a hand through his hair, considering. “We should start by deciding how to—”

“Who’s moving?” you interrupted. “You or me?”

He blinked. You hadn’t even let him finish.

For some reason, the question flustered him more than he expected. He looked toward his room, then toward yours, then back at you. “I… I guess it makes sense for one of us to move into the other’s space.”

You rolled your eyes. “That’s obvious.”

His jaw tensed. “Then why do you sound upset?”

You inhaled sharply. “Because this isn’t normal. None of this is normal.”

Silence. The tension was razor-thin, tight enough to snap, but just as the air felt like it might crack open with unspoken frustration, Jongseong suddenly stepped forward.

Your breath hitched as he reached up, fingers brushing lightly against your hair, tucking a loose strand behind your ear. His touch was barely there—soft, lingering, as if grounding you before the moment could spiral too far.

Your stomach flipped. The anger, the frustration—it melted in an instant, leaving something quieter in its place.

“I know,” he murmured. “But we don’t have a choice.”

He hesitated for a beat before his thumb brushed lightly over your cheek, his fingers barely ghosting your jawline. 

“Baby,” he murmured softly, testing the word, letting it hang between you. His eyes searched yours. “Is that okay?”

Your lips parted, but no words came. You weren’t sure what shocked you more—the nickname, or the fact that you didn’t mind it.

You swallowed, heart hammering in your chest, but eventually, you nodded.

Jongseong held your gaze for a second longer before his hand dropped, tension breaking just enough for you to exhale again.

You cleared your throat, stepping back slightly. “I suppose it doesn’t matter, does it?”

“It matters,” he murmured again. His gaze flickered with something unreadable before he turned and walked toward his room. He pushed the door open, revealing a clean and modern space—a bed that somehow seemed too big, a desk neatly arranged, shelves lined with things you hadn’t paid attention to before.

“This will work,” he said simply, like it was nothing. Like moving you into his space wasn’t going to alter everything.

You stepped into the room cautiously, running your fingers along the edge of his desk. This was real now.

Jongseong moved beside you, hands slipping into his pockets. “You’ll take the bed, obviously.”

Your head snapped toward him. “Where are you going to sleep?”

“The couch.”

“No.” The word left you before you could think about it. Because that would be too obvious. Too much space. Too much defiance against what they were expecting.

Jongseong tilted his head. “No?”

You swallowed. “If they’re monitoring, we can’t make it look fake.”

His expression was unreadable. Then, after a long silence, he said, “We’ll take sides.”

You nodded slowly. “Sides.”

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

Neither of you moved.

The weight of the agreement pressed in around you. You would share a bed. You would be inches apart at night. The pretense of distance was officially gone.

Jongseong finally sighed. “I’ll move your things in tomorrow.”

You nodded. Then, after a pause, you took a small step toward him. “This isn’t going to be easy, is it?”

He smirked faintly. “Nothing about this has been.”

You exhaled slowly. “Then we should make it look real.”

Jongseong’s smirk faded slightly. He tilted his head, his gaze flickering between your eyes and your lips. That look. That tension. 

Without thinking, you reached for his wrist, fingers curling around it just briefly before pulling away. Something about touching him first felt necessary.

Jongseong didn’t pull back. Instead, he lifted a hand, his fingers brushing against yours before he murmured, “We’ll figure it out.”

You nodded, stepping back. “We have six days.”

His lips quirked. “Five and a half.”

You huffed a laugh despite yourself. Then, before you could change your mind, you turned and left the room, your pulse still unsteady in your chest.

______________________________________________________________

The first night in the same room felt heavier than you had expected. You sat at the edge of the bed, fingers gripping the sheets as the reality of the situation fully settled over you.

Jay was in the bathroom, the faint sound of running water filling the silence of the bedroom. Your bedroom now. Your bed, which was suddenly meant for two.

When he stepped out, towel drying his hair, you didn’t look up immediately. Instead, you focused on the shifting space around you—the way your books now lined part of his shelf, your blanket was folded at the foot of the bed beside his, your perfume lingered in the air now.

The room was no longer just his. It was becoming yours, too.

Jay let out a slow exhale as he tossed his towel over a chair. When you finally looked up, your gaze caught on the fact that he was shirtless. He had no intention of sleeping in one, it seemed.

“I don’t sleep with a shirt on,” he said casually, noticing your stare.

You swallowed and cleared your throat. “Can you—just for tonight?”

Jay’s brows lifted slightly before he let out a quiet chuckle. “You really think a shirt’s gonna make a difference, baby?”

Your stomach flipped at the nickname, the casual way it rolled off his tongue. The second time tonight.

You forced yourself to hold his gaze. “Just for tonight.”

He sighed, but didn’t argue, grabbing a t-shirt from the dresser and slipping it on before climbing into bed. “Happy?”

You ignored the warmth creeping up your neck and nodded.

“You okay?” he asked after a beat, watching you.

You blinked. That was the first time he’d asked you that all night.

“Yeah,” you said, voice quieter than intended. “Just… adjusting.”

He hummed, turning onto his back. “You’ll get used to it.”

Would you?

You inhaled deeply, then exhaled. “We should set some ground rules.”

He nodded, shifting to get comfortable. “Okay. Like what?”

You hesitated, chewing on your bottom lip. “No unnecessary touching while sleeping.”

Jay smirked. “You think I’m gonna be all over you in my sleep?”

Your stomach flipped at the teasing edge in his voice. “I think accidents happen,” you countered, narrowing your eyes.

He lifted his hands in surrender. “Fine. No unnecessary touching.”

You nodded, though the warmth in your cheeks refused to fade.

“Anything else?” he asked, glancing toward you as he adjusted the pillows.

You hesitated again. “What if, what if one of us wakes up first?”

Jay raised a brow. “Then the other keeps sleeping? That’s usually how waking up works.”

You glared. “I mean, do we pretend to still be asleep? Do we—do we greet each other? What’s the etiquette here?”

Jay let out a soft chuckle, clearly amused. “I dunno. Do you want me to say good morning all soft and sweet? Maybe kiss your forehead while I’m at it?”

You shot him a look, but the mental image sent something warm curling in your stomach.

He grinned. “I’ll just say ‘morning’ and get out of bed. Sound good?”

You nodded. “Okay. That works.”

Jay leaned back against the headboard, watching you for a moment before tilting his head. "By the way," he murmured, "you don’t have to keep calling me Jongseong. Jay is fine."

You hesitated. "Are you sure?"

He smirked slightly. "Yeah. Sounds better when you say it."

Your stomach did an odd little flip at that, but you masked it with a nod. "Alright. Jay." 

“You sure you’re comfortable?”

You hesitated before nodding. “Yeah.”

He hummed again, like he didn’t fully believe you, but didn’t push.

Then, just as you were about to shift under the covers, he reached over and brushed a stray strand of hair from your face.

Your breath hitched slightly at the unexpected softness of the gesture. It was casual, like something natural, something instinctive.

“Relax,” he murmured, voice lower now, almost drowsy. “It’s just me.”

Just him.

The realization settled somewhere deep in your chest as you nodded slowly. You lay back, facing the ceiling for a long moment, listening to the quiet rhythm of the room. Eventually, Jay flicked the bedside lamp off, and darkness swallowed the space between you both.

After a long stretch of silence, you swallowed and, almost in a whisper, asked, "Are you already used to it?"

There was a pause before Jay shifted slightly beside you. His voice was softer than before when he finally answered. "Not yet."

Everything that could go wrong had gone wrong. You had spilled coffee on your only clean work shirt, and barely made it to your job on time. Meetings ran over, projects piled up, and no matter how much you tried to get ahead, the day kept dragging you down.

Then, to top it all off, the train home was delayed, and your wand flickered weakly when you tried to summon your keys at the door. By the time you finally stepped inside the apartment, exhaustion clung to your bones, irritation simmering beneath your skin.

You kicked off your shoes with more force than necessary, throwing your bag onto the chair with a frustrated huff. Everything sucked. Absolutely everything.

Then you looked toward the bed.

Jay was already there, half-asleep, his head turned toward the door as if he had been waiting for you. His hair was messy, his bare shoulders peeking out from beneath the covers. The dim lighting made his features softer, relaxed in a way that nearly made you forget how awful your day had been.

“Took you long enough,” he mumbled sleepily.

Your frustration flickered, the sharp edges of it dulling almost instantly. You sighed, running a hand over your face. “Yeah. Today was hell.”

Jay hummed, eyes barely open as he shifted, making just enough space for you. “C’mere, baby.”

Your heart clenched at the way he said it, voice thick with sleep, laced with a quiet warmth that had no right making you feel better. 

You sighed again, but this time it wasn’t frustration—it was something softer, something that melted under the weight of his tired gaze.

You moved toward the closet to change, but Jay groaned softly, burying his face in the pillow. “No, just talk to me. I wanna hear about your day.”

You shook your head, exhaling as you unbuttoned your shirt. “You’re barely awake.”

“So?” he muttered, voice muffled. “Still wanna hear you.”

His insistence chipped away at whatever was left of your bad mood. As you moved through your night routine, you found yourself telling him everything—the stupid meetings, the unbearable commute, the way your boss kept mispronouncing your name even after working together for months.

Jay hummed occasionally, nodding in half-conscious agreement, eyes drifting shut between your sentences. But every time you stopped, thinking he had finally fallen asleep, his voice would break the silence.

“What happened after that?”

“Did you tell them off?”

“Bet you rolled your eyes at least five times.”

By the time you finally crawled into bed, most of the weight from the day had lifted, replaced by a quiet comfort that settled deep in your bones. As you exhaled, sinking into the sheets, Jay shifted beside you. His eyes were barely open, sleep pressing heavy against him, but he still reached out, fingers brushing against your cheek.

Without thinking, he murmured, "C’mere," and before you could register what was happening, he pulled you in, pressing a firm, lingering kiss against your lips. It was warm, slow, edged with sleep and something softer, something that made your chest tighten.

By the time he pulled away, his lips barely ghosting against yours, he was already halfway asleep again. "Better?" he mumbled, his voice slurred.

You swallowed, your pulse unsteady. "Yeah," you whispered. Jay’s fingers brushed against your arm as he exhaled a long, satisfied sigh. “See? That wasn’t so bad.”

You huffed, shaking your head. “Me talking about my day was more for your entertainment than comfort, wasn’t it?”

Jay’s lips curled lazily. “Maybe.”

You rolled your eyes, shifting under the covers. But then Jay mumbled, “No shirt, no pants? I know you don’t like to wear your pants to sleep.”

You exhaled, already feeling the exhaustion tug at your limbs. “Fine.”

His fingers flexed against the sheets, satisfied. “Good. Together, we make one whole pajama set.”

You huffed a quiet laugh, shaking your head. “You’re ridiculous.”

Jay hummed in agreement, already drifting off. Only when you settled beside him, feeling the shared warmth beneath the blankets, did he finally stop fighting sleep. But before he did, his hand found your cheek, his thumb tracing slow circles against your skin.

Without thinking, he leaned in again, this time pressing a softer, lingering kiss against your jaw. You exhaled slowly, your hands hesitating for only a moment before one of them lifted, fingers grazing the bare skin of his chest, feeling the warmth beneath your touch. His breath hitched slightly, but he didn’t pull away. Instead, he shifted closer, his lips trailing down to brush a barely-there kiss against the curve of your neck, his hand moving up to cradle the side of your face. 

"Sleep," he mumbled against your skin, voice fading into exhaustion, before finally letting go.

You woke up to warmth. A slow, steady heat radiating from beside you, the blankets feeling heavier than usual. 

Your eyes blinked open to see him still asleep, lying on his stomach, one arm tucked under his pillow, the other stretched out lazily, fingers grazing your side. His breathing was even, his face completely relaxed in sleep. 

You hesitated, watching him for just a moment longer than necessary, before attempting to shift away.

The second you moved, Jay groaned low in his throat. “Stay,” he mumbled, voice thick with sleep. His fingers flexed against your hip before retracting as if he wasn’t sure he was allowed to touch you yet.

You swallowed, trying to ignore the way your stomach flipped at his drowsy tone. “I need coffee.”

Jay cracked one eye open. “You always need coffee.”

You huffed. “And you always wake up in a good mood. How?”

He smirked sleepily, rolling onto his back with a slow stretch, his toned stomach peeking out from under the sheets. “It’s a gift, baby.”

The nickname sent a rush of heat to your cheeks, and you pushed the covers off before he could catch your expression. “I’m making coffee.”

Jay hummed, still blinking away sleep. “You’re really just gonna get up and leave me like this?”

You paused, turning to glance at him. “Like what?”

He grinned lazily. “Cold and abandoned.”

You scoffed but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. “You’re so dramatic in the morning.”

Jay only smirked as you made your way to the kitchen, the comfortable ease between you lingering even as you started your morning routine.

Moments later, he joined you, still shirtless, hair a mess, moving to grab a mug from the cupboard. As you handed him his coffee, he leaned in absentmindedly, pressing a soft kiss against your shoulder before taking the cup. The motion was so casual, so natural, that it took you a second to process.

You blinked, turning to face him. "Aren’t you kissing me too much?"

Jay stiffened slightly, eyes flicking up to meet yours. But then his lips quirked, and he leaned back against the counter, sipping his coffee.

You watched him for a beat before setting your mug down. "Fine."

Before he could ask what you meant, you leaned in, arms lifting to loosely wrap around his neck as you pressed a soft kiss just beneath his jaw, your lips grazing the warm skin of his neck. You felt the slight shudder run through him, the way his grip on his coffee mug tightened just a fraction. Jay's breath hitched slightly, his fingers tightening around his mug.

When you pulled back, you smirked at the way his ears had turned red. "Happy now?" 

"You should kiss me more," he teased.

You shot him a look, passing him a cup of coffee. “You’re lucky I made extra.”

Jay took a sip, sighing in content. “Yeah, yeah. Thanks, baby.”

You pretended not to react to the name, but the warmth stayed with you longer than your coffee did.

As you took another sip of your coffee, the quiet hum of the morning was interrupted by the sound of fluttering wings. An owl swooped in through the open kitchen window, landing gracefully on the counter, a neatly tied envelope clutched in its beak.

Jay sighed, setting his mug down as he reached for the letter. "That'll be from my parents."

You watched as he untied the parchment, unfolding it with a slight frown. The owl hooted softly, waiting for a response.

Jay's eyes scanned the page, his expression unreadable at first. Then, with a small exhale, he muttered, "They want to see us."

Your fingers tightened slightly around your mug. Us.

“You’re staring at it like it’s gonna bite,” he mused, taking a sip of his coffee.

You huffed. “I just don’t know what to expect.”

Jay exhaled through his nose, setting his mug down. “My parents… they’re not bad. Just… traditional. They’ll expect things to look a certain way.”

Your fingers curled around your cup. “And what if they don’t?”

He tilted his head slightly, watching you. “Then we make sure they do.”

There was something unreadable in his expression, something both reassuring and unsettling all at once. He was taking this seriously—not just the Ministry part, but the part where you both had to convince his family, too.

You bit your lip. “One thing at a time?”

Jay smirked slightly, tapping his fingers against the counter. “One thing at a time.”

You weren’t sure why the thought made your stomach twist, but something about meeting Jay’s parents, about having to present this marriage as real to them, felt heavier than anything you had prepared for.

Jay looked at you then, tilting his head slightly. "I can write back later. No rush. Honestly, let’s just get through the last Ministry visit for a while first—then we can deal with my parents."

You swallowed, nodding. "Right. No rush."

The owl flapped its wings, as if impatient, but Jay simply placed the letter aside, returning his focus to his coffee. The weight of the letter lingered in the air between you, unspoken but present.

The morning had started normally enough. Work had been relatively uneventful, save for your coworker Mina pulling you aside as you both sorted through some files in the break room. She leaned against the counter, stirring sugar into her tea with a knowing look in her eyes.

"So," she drawled, "how's married life treating you?"

You blinked. "It’s… an adjustment."

Mina scoffed, taking a sip of her tea. "Adjustment? That’s a diplomatic way of putting it. You barely look married. No ring marks on your fingers, no swooning over your husband’s lunch visits."

You huffed. "He doesn’t visit me at work, but he does pick me up after. And we do kiss and stuff."

Mina’s brows shot up, interest piqued. "Kiss and stuff? So, what, like a peck on the lips? A lingering moment? You making out against the nearest wall?"

Your face burned. "Not making out. Just… normal kissing."

Mina gave you a deadpan look before taking another sip of her tea. "Okay, listen. Make out. Suck his dick. Get laid. In that order."

You nearly choked. "Mina!"

She smirked, unbothered. "What? Jongseong is a total hottie, you’re stressed, and all this weird tension you’re feeling will go away the moment you two start properly acting like husband and wife."

You groaned, rubbing your temples. "You are actually the worst."

Mina shrugged, grinning. "I’m just saying, sweetheart, at some point, you’re gonna have to stop pretending this is a polite roommate situation. Might as well enjoy yourself in the process." 

She only laughed, patting your shoulder. "I’m just saying, if you’re already forced to live together, might as well enjoy the perks, right? Bet he’s not bad in bed either."

Mina shrugged, clearly unfazed. "I’m the realist. You’re the one making this more complicated than it needs to be."

You rolled your eyes but couldn't fully shake her words from your mind as the day went on.

Jay had suggested going out for lunch—something about fresh air being good for you, but you had a sneaking suspicion he was trying to get you out of your own head. The tension of the upcoming dinner with his parents had been lingering between you both, and he was trying to shift the focus.

The café was cozy, tucked into a quiet corner of the city, the kind of place that blurred the line between magical and Muggle. Small, levitating candles hovered above each table, but there was also a very prominent espresso machine steaming in the background, giving the place a strange but warm blend of both worlds.

Jay was different today. More touchy.

The first time he reached for your hand, it caught you off guard. You had been gesturing while explaining something, only to have his fingers wrap around yours mid-sentence, lacing them together as if it was the most natural thing in the world. You blinked down at your joined hands, but he only smirked, continuing to listen as if nothing had changed.

Jay tilted his head slightly. "By the way, you always talk about Niki, but what about your other friends? Jungwon, right?"

You blinked. "Yeah. Jungwon and I have been friends for a while now."

Jay hummed. "Funny. I actually tutored him for like a week back in school."

Your eyes widened. "You? Tutoring Jungwon?"

He smirked. "Yeah. He was struggling with Charms. Thought he could figure everything out by himself, but he kept botching the spellwork."

You laughed. "That does sound like him. How did it go?"

Jay shrugged. "He quit after a week. Said he learned better by messing up on his own."

You snorted. "That sounds even more like him."

Jay smirked, leaning back in his chair. "Guess we’ve had more overlapping connections than I thought."

It wasn’t until later that evening, back at the apartment, that you realized just how much more comfortable Jay had gotten with you.

You were sitting on the couch, legs curled up beneath you as you skimmed through a book, when Jay walked in, plopping down beside you with absolutely no regard for personal space. Without hesitation, he reached for your arm and tugged gently, signaling for you to shift.

You raised a brow. “What?”

Jay smirked. “Come here.”

You scoffed. “Why?”

He sighed, as if you were exhausting, before simply pulling you toward him. You barely had time to react before you were settled against his chest, your back pressed against him as he stretched his legs out comfortably. His arms caged you in, warm and steady.

“Jay,” you muttered, stiffening slightly. “What are you doing?”

“Relaxing.” His voice was easy, like this was normal. Like you hadn’t just settled directly into his lap.

You swallowed, unsure of what to do with yourself. “I—”

“You’re warm,” he murmured, voice dropping slightly.

Your heartbeat stuttered.

The worst part was that he was warm too.

After a few seconds, you exhaled, finally allowing yourself to relax into him. Jay hummed in approval, his lips grazing against the shell of your ear as he shifted slightly, adjusting his grip around you. The touch was fleeting but intentional.

“You really don’t mind all this?” you asked quietly.

Jay chuckled, his breath warm against your skin. “Mind it? I’m starting to think I like it too much.”

You sucked in a breath, but before you could respond, he nuzzled against your shoulder, his teeth grazing your ear before closing lightly around it in a teasing nibble. Your breath hitched, and your fingers instinctively gripped his arm.

"Jay—"

He didn't pull back. Instead, his arms tightened around you, and his lips moved lower, pressing a slow, deliberate kiss to the curve of your neck. The warmth of it sent a sharp jolt through your spine, and before you could second-guess yourself, you turned slightly in his lap, tilting your head toward him.

It happened naturally—his mouth met yours in a kiss that was slower, deeper than either of you had intended. The shift in energy was unmistakable, tension curling between you like an unspoken understanding neither of you wanted to break.

Jay's hands splayed against your back, pulling you closer as your fingers curled into his shirt, anchoring yourself. When he bit at your bottom lip, a quiet noise escaped you, and he responded by deepening the kiss, tilting his head as if he couldn't get enough.

By the time you finally pulled away, breath uneven, his forehead rested against yours, his lips just barely brushing over yours again in a lingering tease. Your heart was still racing, your hands still lightly curled against his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breathing.

Jay's breath was still uneven against your skin, his hands resting against your lower back, keeping you close. You could still feel the warmth of his lips, the lingering tension settling between you both like an unspoken acknowledgment.

His arms tightened slightly, and he nuzzled against your cheek, pressing a barely-there kiss against your temple. "You feel safe," he murmured, his voice lower, softer.

Your breath hitched. "What?"

Jay exhaled slowly, as if grounding himself in your presence. "With you. I feel safe with you."

The confession sent a warmth through your chest that you weren’t prepared for. Your fingers twitched slightly against his shirt, caught between the instinct to pull away and the need to stay exactly where you were.

Jay tilted his head, his nose brushing against your cheek. "You like taking care of me, don’t you?" he mused, teasing but sincere.

You swallowed, trying to steady yourself. "You’re impossible."

His smirk returned, albeit softer this time. "Maybe. But I think you like me this way."

You huffed, shaking your head, but you didn’t pull away. Instead, you let yourself sink just a little further into his embrace, knowing—deep down—you weren’t quite ready to let go yet.

"Told you you'd get used to it," he murmured, his voice husky.

“Jay,” you warned, though your voice came out softer than intended.

He only smirked, resting his chin on your shoulder like he hadn’t just sent your heart into overdrive. “You’re overthinking again, baby.”

And you hated that he was right.

You had been dreading the Ministry’s visit from the moment the letter arrived, confirming the final scheduled check-in before a long evaluation period. It was supposed to be a relief—this was the last time, for a while at least, that an official would come snooping around, dissecting your marriage like it was an experiment instead of your actual life.

But relief was the last thing you felt.

There was something suffocating about the expectation of passing. You and Jay had gotten good at playing your roles, good at the casual touches, the familiarity, the easy, teasing back-and-forth that had started feeling more real than pretend. But today, something felt… off.

Maybe it was because the words still echoed in your mind.

You should kiss me more.

You feel safe.

Jay had said it so easily, as if it was second nature to him now, to be comfortable around you. But comfort didn’t mean security, and today, everything felt like it was hanging by a thread.

The Ministry official, a stern-looking woman with wire-rimmed glasses, sat across from you both in the living room. A notepad in her hands, quill poised. Watching. Always watching.

“So,” she said, adjusting her glasses. “We’ve received positive reports so far on your integration as a married couple. How has the transition been?”

Jay, as always, was calm, composed, charming. “It’s been good. We’ve built a routine, settled into daily life together.”

Her eyes flickered to you. “And you?”

You swallowed. “It’s… an adjustment, but I think we’re getting there.”

The Ministry woman nodded, making a note. “Good, good. And the cohabitation aspect? Shared space, sleeping arrangements?”

Jay didn’t even hesitate. “Of course.”

You nodded, feeling the walls close in around you. You wondered if she could sense the strange weight in the air, the tension neither of you had fully addressed.

She glanced down at the file in her lap. “As you know, by the next evaluation period, the Ministry will be monitoring this aspect through magical verification. We must ensure that your union progresses naturally.”

Naturally. As if any of this had been natural from the start.

Her gaze sharpened. “And, of course, I must remind you that by the second year of marriage, procreation is expected. The Ministry understands that adjustments take time, but ultimately, your union is meant to strengthen the magical bloodlines.”

Your stomach clenched. Jay’s jaw tensed.

“Understood,” Jay finally said, his tone even.

You managed a nod, even though your heart was pounding in your ears. The official studied you both for a moment longer before standing, closing her folder.

“I believe that will be all for now,” she said, giving a tight smile. “We will check in again at the next scheduled period. Until then, I suggest you continue settling into your roles as husband and wife.”

And just like that, she was gone. But her words lingered, thick like smoke in the room.

Neither of you spoke for a long moment.

Then, Jay let out a sharp breath and ran a hand through his hair. “Well, that was fun.”

Your jaw clenched. “Fun.”

He glanced at you, sensing the shift in your tone. “What?”

You stood abruptly, pacing toward the kitchen, needing space. “Nothing.”

Jay sighed, rubbing at his temple. “Come on, baby, just say it.”

And maybe it was the way he said it—so effortlessly, so casually, as if nothing had just happened—that made something in you snap.

“Say what, Jay?” You whirled around, frustration bubbling over. “That I hate this? That I hate how the Ministry talks about children like we’re required to breed for them? That I hate how we have to act like our lives are some scripted performance?”

Jay exhaled, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You think I don’t hate it too?”

“Do you?” The words were out before you could stop them, sharp, biting. “Because sometimes it feels like you’re perfectly fine pretending.”

Jay’s expression darkened. "I’m trying to make the best of this, but you act like I’m the enemy. We’re in this together, or have you forgotten that?"

You let out a bitter laugh. "Together? Jay, sometimes it feels like you don't even care. Like you're just rolling with this because it's easier for you."

Jay’s eyes flashed with something unreadable, his posture stiffening. "What do you mean I don't care? Do you think I wanted this? Do you think I wake up every morning thrilled about the fact that my life got rewritten by some Ministry law?"

You exhaled sharply. "I never said that."

"No, but you sure as hell act like I’m the one who forced you into this." His voice was sharper now, frustration laced into every word. "I’ve been trying, okay? Trying to make this livable, trying to make it easier for both of us. But every time I do, you push back like you’d rather pretend I don’t exist."

You crossed your arms, hating the way his words stung. "I don’t pretend you don’t exist, Jay. I just—" You swallowed hard. "I don’t know how to do this. I don’t know how to balance what’s real and what’s not," Your heart pounded, "I haven’t forgotten that we're in this together. But maybe I wish we weren’t."

Jay’s entire body went rigid. His jaw clenched, and when he spoke, his voice was quieter, but no less sharp. "What do you mean, you wish we weren’t?"

You opened your mouth, but nothing came out at first. "Jay—"

"No, say it," he pressed, his voice laced with something raw. "Has this all just been an inconvenience to you? Have I just been another part of the mess?"

You inhaled shakily. "That’s not what I meant."

"Then what did you mean?" His eyes bore into yours, frustration and something else—something closer to hurt—bleeding into his gaze.

You hesitated. "I just meant… I don’t know what’s real and what’s not anymore."

Jay’s expression darkened further, his frustration spilling over. "It’s all real, because this is our life now! This isn’t some fantasy, or some nightmare you can wake up from. This is it. We’re here, together, and no amount of wishing it away is going to change that."

Jay let out a harsh breath, running a hand through his hair. "Maybe it isn’t normal, but it’s ours. And if we keep tearing it apart every time something doesn’t go the way we want, then what the hell are we even doing?"

Silence stretched between you, thick and suffocating. Neither of you willing to be the first to break it.

The silence that followed was deafening. Jay’s face didn’t change, but something behind his eyes did. A flicker of something that looked like hurt.

And then, just like that, the moment passed.

His jaw clenched, his voice measured. “We have dinner with my parents tonight.”

You inhaled sharply, your stomach twisting. You had completely forgotten in the middle of the chaos.

“Great,” you muttered. “Can’t wait.”

Jay exhaled, stepping back. “Just… get ready. We’ll deal with this later.”

The carriage ride to Jay’s family estate was quiet, tense. You barely spoke, both still reeling from the heated argument earlier. Jay’s gaze was fixed outside the window, jaw tight, and though you knew this dinner was important, you couldn’t shake the unease crawling under your skin.

By the time you arrived, the grandeur of the Park estate was impossible to ignore. The house—no, the manor—was a striking example of old magic, the kind of wealth that had been passed down for generations.

Tall wrought-iron gates opened with a soft creak, revealing sprawling courtyards lined with lantern-lit pathways, their glow flickering in the cool evening air. The mansion itself was regal, its high stone walls blanketed in ivy, windows aglow with warm golden light.

Jay straightened the moment the carriage stopped, his usual relaxed demeanor replaced by something practiced. Reserved. This was his world, and you were only stepping into it.

A house-elf opened the massive front doors before either of you could knock, ushering you into a vast foyer lined with polished marble floors and an intricately carved staircase leading to the upper levels. The walls were adorned with enchanted portraits, all featuring past generations of the Park family—stoic figures in rich robes watching you with unsettling scrutiny.

Jay’s mother was waiting in the grand entrance hall, regal as ever. Her dark hair was elegantly styled, her robes immaculate, her presence exuding the effortless grace of someone accustomed to being obeyed.

"Jongseong," she greeted, her voice smooth but edged with expectation. "It’s been too long."

Jay nodded, a polite smile barely reaching his eyes. "You know how it is."

His father stood just behind her, taller than Jay, his presence commanding even in silence. His features were sharp, his stare assessing, but there was a flicker of curiosity when he glanced at you.

His mother’s gaze shifted toward you, scanning with the precision of someone accustomed to weighing worth. "And you must be my daughter-in-law."

The title landed heavily. Daughter-in-law. It sounded more binding coming from her than it ever had from a Ministry official.

You dipped your head slightly. "It’s lovely to meet you."

She studied you for a long moment before giving a small nod. "Come in. Dinner is ready."

The dining room was ornate and intimidating, the kind of place where silence held weight. A long, polished table stretched across the room, set with fine china and gleaming silverware. Floating candles hovered overhead, casting a warm but almost oppressive glow on the deep mahogany walls lined with more ancestral portraits.

Dinner was served in meticulously timed courses, each plate appearing at the perfect moment as house-elves moved soundlessly through the space. The food was exquisite, but you barely tasted it—your mind too occupied with the undercurrent of tension between you and Jay.

His parents, though polite, were assessing you, their questions carefully crafted to evaluate rather than genuinely get to know you.

"Tell me," his mother finally said, dabbing her lips with a pristine napkin, "how have you been adjusting to married life?"

You forced a smile. "It’s been an adjustment, but we’re finding our way."

Jay’s father hummed, swirling his wine glass. "Finding your way?" His sharp eyes flickered between the two of you. "That’s an interesting choice of words."

You felt Jay tense beside you. "We’re managing just fine."

His mother tilted her head slightly, her gaze sharper than before. "Did you two have a fight?"

Your breath caught in your throat. The room felt smaller. Had they already noticed?

Jay let out a measured sigh, fingers tightening slightly around his fork. "It’s nothing. Just—" he exhaled, sparing you a quick glance, "a disagreement."

His mother hummed thoughtfully, setting her napkin down beside her plate. "Marriage isn’t about never fighting. It’s about how you handle the fights."

His father nodded, his deep voice breaking the tense silence. "A marriage built on avoidance will always crumble. Disagreements are inevitable, but how you choose to move forward from them is what matters."

The weight of their words settled heavily between you and Jay, a third presence at the table. It wasn’t accusatory, nor was it particularly comforting—it was simply fact. And it left you feeling exposed.

His mother’s gaze lingered on Jay for a moment longer before softening just a fraction as she turned back to you. "It will take time, but if you are both willing to build something real from this, then you must learn to meet each other halfway."

You swallowed, nodding slowly. Halfway.

After dinner, as the plates vanished and the dining room emptied, Jay’s mother turned to you with a calm, knowing expression. "Come," she said, rising gracefully from her seat. "Let’s wash our hands before dessert."

You hesitated for only a moment before following her, feeling Jay’s gaze linger on you as you exited the room. The air in the corridor was cool, laced with the scent of fresh linen and aged parchment. You expected her to lead you directly to the washroom, but instead, after you rinsed your hands, she gestured toward a side door that opened into a moonlit garden.

"A walk will do us both some good," she murmured, stepping outside.

The estate grounds were vast, illuminated by the soft glow of floating lanterns. The paths were lined with perfectly trimmed hedges and arching trellises of enchanted flowers that bloomed faintly in the evening air. It was quiet, serene, the opposite of the tension you had felt all night.

She walked beside you in silence for a few moments before speaking. "I can see the weight you’re carrying, dear. You don’t need to hide it from me."

You exhaled slowly. "It’s just… a lot. Adjusting, trying to understand what all of this means, what’s expected of me… and Jay."

Her lips curled slightly, not unkindly. "My son is… difficult at times. But I know him well."

You glanced at her, uncertain. "You seem to know a lot about us already."

She chuckled. "I know marriage is not easy, especially one like yours. But I also know that my son is not as indifferent as he pretends to be. He may act as though he’s handling everything well, but I see the way he looks at you. And I see the way you look at him, even when you don’t realize it."

You swallowed. "I don’t know how to make this work."

She stopped walking, turning to you. In the dim light, her gaze was softer than before. "Then start by meeting him where he is. And let him meet you there, too."

You nodded slowly, her words settling deep within you.

Then, as if sensing your next question, she offered a small smile. "If I know my son—and I do—he’s waiting for you upstairs. In his old bedroom. He may be stubborn, but he won’t go to sleep without trying to fix things."

The warmth in her voice was unexpected, and when she placed a gentle hand on your arm, she added, "Call me Mom. Family is built over time, but you’re part of ours now."

Something in your chest tightened, but you found yourself nodding, feeling the smallest bit lighter.

"Go to him," she murmured, stepping back toward the house. "The night is long, but love is patient."

The hallways of the Park estate were quiet, dimly lit by sconces casting soft, flickering light. The house smelled like old parchment, polished mahogany, and something herbal—like a potion left brewing long enough to become part of the walls. The weight of history pressed in on you as you followed the familiar path to Jay’s childhood bedroom.

Your fingers curled into fists at your sides as you stood outside his door, slightly ajar, warm lamplight spilling onto the dark floorboards. Your heart was a riot in your chest, each beat slamming against your ribs.

You pushed the door open.

Jay was there. Waiting.

He sat on the edge of his bed, one elbow propped on his knee, fingers pressed to his temple like he had the beginnings of a headache. His sleeves were still rolled up, exposing the lean muscle of his forearms, and his shirt hung loosely over his frame, collar slightly undone like he’d been tugging at it in frustration. His hair was tousled—from his hands, or maybe from the weight of the night.

He looked up as you entered. His expression was unreadable, but his shoulders tensed.

The room was suffocatingly personal. The bed, bigger than you expected, was covered in dark gray sheets that had long lost their crispness. The walls, lined with old Quidditch posters and bookshelves crammed with textbooks and novels, spoke of a younger, more ambitious Jay—one you had never known.

Your throat tightened. This was his space. His past. And now you were stepping into it.

You shut the door behind you, your breath unsteady.

“Your mom told me you’d be here,” you said softly.

Jay scoffed under his breath, shaking his head. "Of course, she did."

The silence that stretched between you was thick with unspoken things. You shifted on your feet, nerves crawling up your spine. It shouldn’t be this hard to talk to him.

You exhaled. "She also told me to call her Mom."

That got his attention. His brow furrowed slightly, his gaze flickering over you like he was trying to decide if you were serious. "Yeah?"

You nodded. "She gave me some advice, too. About meeting halfway."

Jay inhaled deeply, rubbing at his temple before looking at you fully. "Sounds like her."

More silence. It wasn’t cold anymore, but it wasn’t comfortable either. Just hesitant. Fragile.

Finally, he sighed. "I don’t like fighting with you."

The words hit you harder than they should have. A lump formed in your throat. "Me neither."

Jay’s eyes softened just slightly, his posture relaxing the smallest bit. "I meant what I said earlier. This… us. It’s real, whether we wanted it to be or not."

You swallowed against the sudden sting behind your eyes. Real. That word lodged itself deep in your chest, making it hard to breathe.

You took a slow step forward. Then another. And another, until you were standing between his knees.

Jay’s hands twitched at his sides, like he wanted to reach for you but wasn’t sure if he should.

"I don’t know how to do this," you whispered, voice tight.

Jay’s throat bobbed as he exhaled, and this time, he didn’t hesitate. His hands slid up your hips, fingers digging into your waist just enough to make you feel it.

“Then let’s figure it out together,” he murmured.

A small, broken sound escaped you before you could stop it. His grip tightened.

Tears slipped past your lashes, and Jay’s entire expression shifted. His fingers brushed up, cradling your face, wiping them away.

"Baby, hey—" his voice dropped lower, raw. "Why are you crying?"

You let out a watery laugh, shaking your head. "I don’t know. I just—" You sucked in a breath. "You call me baby like it’s the easiest thing in the world. Like we’re normal. And I don’t know what to do with that."

Jay studied you for a long moment, then tilted his head forward, pressing his forehead to yours.

His warmth seeped into your skin, anchoring you. He smelled like home.

"You don’t have to do anything with it," he murmured. "Just let me hold you."

You let out another shaky breath before you did something you hadn’t done before.

You settled into his lap.

Jay’s entire body stiffened, but he didn’t stop you. His arms came up instinctively, wrapping around your waist, holding you tighter, like he was afraid you’d disappear.

Your fingers toyed with the edges of his collar, trailing along the warm skin just beneath it. His pulse thrummed under your fingertips, fast but steady.

Then, without thinking, you leaned in and kissed him.

It was soft at first, hesitant—a brush of lips meant to test the waters. But when Jay sighed against your mouth and pulled you flush against him, the hesitation melted away.

He kissed you deeper.

You could feel everything in the way he held you—his hands sliding up your spine, his fingers tracing your ribs, the weight of every moment leading up to this one.

By the time you pulled away, you were breathless. Your forehead rested against his, lips still tingling.

Then, in a hushed, teasing voice, you whispered, "I love it when you smother me with yourself. It makes me feel beautiful."

Jay froze.

Then—a deep, rich laugh rumbled in his chest. He tipped his head back, grinning. "What?"

Your cheeks burned. "It sounded better in my head."

Jay’s arms tightened around you, his lips brushing over your temple as he chuckled. "God, you’re ridiculous."

You hummed, tracing absent patterns over his chest. "But you love it."

Jay exhaled, nuzzling into the crook of your neck as if he belonged there. "Yeah, baby," he murmured against your skin. "I do."

For the first time that night, everything felt right.

The morning sun poured through the windows the next morning, casting golden streaks across the bedroom floor. You stirred slightly, feeling warmth wrapped around you—solid, firm, undeniably Jay.

His arm was draped over your waist, his breath hot against the back of your neck, slow and steady. His entire body was flush against yours, the weight of his leg thrown over yours, as if he had unconsciously tangled himself around you in the night.

You froze, hyper-aware of every point of contact. His hand splayed low on your stomach, fingers curled just barely under the hem of your shirt. His breath fanned over the shell of your ear, sending shivers racing down your spine.

Then, he tightened his grip.

You sucked in a breath as his fingers flexed against your skin, pulling you back against him. A low hum rumbled in his chest, deep and sleepy.

"Mmm. Stay," he muttered, voice thick with sleep, gravelly in a way that made your stomach flip.

You should move. You should pull away. But you don’t.

Instead, you let yourself sink into the warmth of him, just for a second. The feel of him—his bare skin against yours, the solid press of his body—had your mind spiraling into dangerous places. He was so warm, so strong, so impossibly close.

Your breath stuttered as you felt his fingers slide just a little lower, his palm pressing just a little firmer.

And then, realization hit.

You jerked away, heart hammering, but Jay barely reacted. He let out a tired groan, stretching his arm over his head before blinking at you through half-lidded eyes.

"What’s wrong?" His voice was hoarse, his gaze still heavy with sleep.

You cleared your throat, forcing your voice to stay even. "Nothing. Just… we should get up."

Jay smirked, lazy and knowing.

"If you say so, baby."

The walk home was silent, but thick. Every brush of your arms, every accidental glance, every moment of quiet between you carried an unbearable weight.

You weren’t sure when it had started—this undercurrent of something more, something dangerous. But you could feel it burning beneath the surface.

When you stepped inside the apartment, the air changed.

Jay lingered near the kitchen, arms crossed as he leaned against the counter. He watched you, gaze heavy, unreadable. You could feel it—the tension crackling between you like a live wire.

Finally, he broke the silence. "You’re different."

You glanced at him. "So are you."

His lips quirked. "That a bad thing?"

You didn’t answer. Because no, it wasn’t. And that was the problem.

It started small. A test. A game.

You began pushing his buttons—on purpose.

Brushing past him with too much force. Leaning in just a little too close when speaking. Letting your fingers trail over his wrist absentmindedly, just to see if he’d react.

And Jay? He played back.

His palm ghosting over the small of your back when he passed behind you. His lips brushing your ear as he murmured something teasing. His fingers trailing down your spine for just a second too long.

Then came the moment when he finally called you out.

One night, as you passed him in the hallway, his hand shot out, catching your wrist.

He turned to face you, his eyes dark, smirk sharp.

"What’s this, baby? Trying to get my attention?"

Your breath caught in your throat. You had been. But you weren’t about to admit it.

You scoffed. "In your dreams."

Jay chuckled, but there was something dangerous in his expression now.

"Oh, I think you’ve been in my dreams, too."

Your heart slammed against your ribs. He was winning. And you couldn’t have that.

So, you did something reckless.

As you moved past him, you let your fingers drag over his stomach, just barely skimming the skin exposed by his loose shirt.

Jay stiffened.

For the first time, he looked affected. His jaw clenched, fingers twitching at his sides.

Then, he exhaled sharply, shaking his head. "You keep playing with fire, baby."

You turned, eyes locking onto his. "And what if I am?"

His lips parted. His fingers curled into fists.

He was so, so close to losing it.

It happened in the smallest, most ridiculous way.

You were reaching for something on the top shelf in the kitchen when Jay stepped behind you, his body pressing up against yours, his hand effortlessly grabbing it before you could.

"Let me," he murmured, his voice low and deep in your ear.

You froze. Every inch of him was against you. His chest, his hips, his hands.

Then, you pressed back against him.

Jay let out a quiet, shaky breath. His fingers dug into your waist.

"You don’t know what you’re doing to me," he whispered. His lips brushed your ear, his breath warm.

You turned slightly, your lips just barely grazing his.

"Then show me."

And that was it. That was the moment. Jay grabbed you, spun you, backed you against the counter.

His mouth crashed against yours—needy, desperate, hungry. A gasp escaped you, swallowed instantly by his lips. His hands gripped your thighs, lifting you onto the counter with ease.

You wrapped your legs around him, pulling him closer, so, so close.

Jay broke the kiss, panting, pressing his forehead against yours. His hands shook as they held onto you. "Tell me to stop."

You shook your head. "Don’t you dare.".

The air between you and Jay was electric, charged with unspoken desire that had been simmering for far too long. It was too much now, a weight pressing down on you both, demanding to be released. When his lips finally claimed yours, it was with urgency, with hunger, as if he had been holding back for months.

The kitchen—such a normal, mundane setting—was suddenly transformed into something far more intimate, more dangerous. The cool granite countertop pressed into your back as Jay’s lips crushed against yours, sending shockwaves through your body.

At first, your lips parted in surprise, but the moment you surrendered, it was over. His kiss was hungry, his mouth moving fervently against yours, tasting, exploring, claiming. His tongue swept inside, demanding, possessive, like he was marking you as his own.

A soft moan escaped you, a sound of surrender, of need.

It seemed to unleash something in him.

His hands, which had been resting gently on your thighs, tightened with fierce intensity. His long fingers dug into the soft flesh, leaving imprints as he pushed you further into the counter, molding you against him. Your back arched instinctively, pressing your body closer, craving more of the heat between you.

The kiss deepened, turning hotter, messier. A whimper slipped from your lips, and Jay responded with a deep, primal growl, his mouth leaving yours to trail fire along your jaw, your neck.

“God, baby,” he rasped, his voice hoarse, wrecked. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this.” His breath was hot against your skin, sending shivers down your spine, curling in your stomach. “You drive me fucking crazy.”

Your thoughts were incoherent, lost in the sheer intensity of him.

Your hands, which had been resting against his broad shoulders, now tangled in his dark hair, tugging, pulling him closer. You needed more, needed to be consumed by him, needed to drown in the way he was touching, kissing, ruining you.

"Do something about it," you whispered, your voice thick with want, raw with need.

It was a challenge, a dare—one that Jay was more than willing to accept.

With a feral grin, he pulled back, his eyes dark with pure desire. “Oh, I will.” His voice was low, dripping with promise.

In a swift motion, his hands gripped your waist, strong fingers spanning your sides as he lifted you effortlessly. Your legs wrapped around his hips on instinct, as if you had done this dance with him a thousand times before.

And then, you felt it.

His hardness pressing against you, just enough to make your breath hitch, just enough to send a delicious thrill racing down your spine.

Jay devoured your mouth as he carried you out of the kitchen, his footsteps unsteady, his grip unrelenting. You clung to him, fingers digging into his shoulders, matching his fervor with your own.

The urgency between you both was palpable, nearly unbearable.

By the time Jay kicked open the bedroom door, his lips never leaving yours, his hands never loosening their grip on you, your entire body felt like it was burning from the inside out.

He stumbled inside, kicked the door shut with his foot, and suddenly, everything blurred.

You barely had time to register the bed before you were falling onto it, your body sinking into the mattress as he followed, covering you, pressing you down, making sure you felt every inch of him.

“I’ve wanted you for so long,” he growled, his voice thick, rough with need. “Every fucking day, I’ve fantasized about having you, about claiming you like this.”

Your fingers traced the strong lines of his jaw, relishing the roughness of his unshaven skin.

"Then take me," you whispered, a boldness you didn’t even know you possessed. “Make me yours.”

Jay’s response was immediate.

His fingers wrapped around your wrists, pinning them above your head, his grip firm but careful. His free hand roamed, tracing your curves, exploring, memorizing.

His thumb brushed over the peak of your nipple, eliciting a sharp gasp from you, your body arching instinctively.

“I want to see you,” he murmured, his voice like gravel, heavy with restraint. “All of you.”

Your heart pounded as you sat up, pulling your shirt over your head, revealing the delicate black lace beneath.

Jay’s eyes darkened. His breath hitched.

Releasing your wrists, his hands moved to cup your breasts, thumbs teasing the hardened peaks, rolling, stroking, watching you squirm beneath him.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he murmured, his lips finding yours again, a searing, devastating kiss.

His mouth trailed down, down, down, leaving a path of kisses, nipping, sucking, making you tremble beneath him.

His fingers slipped beneath the waistband of your pants, and you arched into him, desperate.

"Please, Jay," you begged, your voice a breathless plea. "I need you."

He let out a dark chuckle, the sound vibrating against your skin. "Oh, you’ll have me, baby. But first… I want to taste you."

And then, he did.

His lips, his tongue, his fingers—all of him, taking his time, taking you apart.

You were a trembling, gasping mess beneath him, gripping the sheets, crying out his name.

And when you finally shattered, when he pulled every last moan from your lips, he moved back over you, watching you, waiting, drinking in the sight of you undone beneath him.

You reached for him, pulling him down, wrapping yourself around him, whispering his name.

And when he finally slid into you, deep and slow, filling you in one smooth stroke, you knew. This wasn’t just need. This wasn’t just hunger.

This was everything.

Jay buried his face in the crook of your neck, groaning as your body clenched around him, gripping him perfectly. He moved slow, deep, deliberate. Like he wanted to make sure you felt everything. Like he wanted to ruin you.

And he did. He whispered your name against your skin.

And when you both tumbled over the edge together, it wasn’t just ecstasy. It was something more.

Something terrifying, something dangerous, something neither of you were ready to name. Afterward, Jay didn’t move.

He just held you, his lips pressing absentminded kisses against your temple, your jaw.

The sheets were a tangled mess beneath you, the room still thick with the remnants of last night—the heat, the whispered names, the overwhelming need.

But morning had arrived, and with it, clarity.

You lay still, staring at the ceiling, heart pounding, stomach twisting. You could feel him beside you, the warmth of his body still clinging to yours, the weight of his arm draped lazily over your waist.

You should move. You should get up.

Instead, you stayed still, afraid to break the moment. Afraid of what came next.

Then, Jay stirred.

A slow inhale. A shift of weight. Then, his hold on you tightened.

“Baby, you know I'm in love with you right?” he murmured, his voice thick, raspy from sleep.

Your stomach flipped, heat rising to your cheeks at the way the word slipped so effortlessly from his lips.

Then, he pressed a lazy kiss to the back of your shoulder.

Something inside you clenched at the tenderness of it. The way his lips lingered, soft and warm, like he was memorizing you, grounding himself in the feel of you.

It was so different from last night. Last night had been fire, hunger, pure desire. But this? This was something else entirely.

Something terrifying.

You swallowed hard, your body going stiff beneath his touch. He noticed.

Jay let out a quiet exhale, his fingers tracing soothing circles over your hip. Then, finally, he spoke.

“I meant what I said.”

Your breath caught in your throat. His words. The confession you hadn’t acknowledged.

“I know,” you whispered.

He shifted, his grip tightening just slightly, as if afraid you’d slip away. His lips found your bare shoulder again, pressing another slow, lingering kiss.

“My Doll,” he murmured, his voice softer this time, but still weighted with emotion. “You don’t have to say anything. Not yet.”

You turned your head slightly, eyes meeting his for the first time that morning. He looked different.

Softer. More open. But just as intense. Your lips parted, but no words came. Because what could you say? You weren’t ready. You weren’t sure what this was.

But Jay just smiled, small and knowing, like he understood anyway.

“You don’t have to figure it out right now,” he murmured, reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “Just… let me be here with you.”

Your chest tightened. That was the problem. He was already here. Closer than he had ever been. You didn’t know if you had it in you to push him away.

It took days. Maybe longer. But it was always there, lingering between you.

Jay never said it again, but you could feel it in everything he did.

The way he pulled you close when he thought you weren’t paying attention. The way he touched you—not just with heat, but with reverence. The way he whispered "Baby" like it was the most natural thing in the world.

But the moment it finally hit you, it was almost embarrassing how obvious it had been all along.

It wasn’t in the quiet nights, or the way he held you in his sleep.

It was something as simple as Jay waiting for you outside of work.

It had been a rough day. One of those days where everything felt heavy. And when you stepped outside, seeing him leaning against the lamppost, hands in his pockets, waiting for you like it was the most natural thing in the world—

It hit you like a train.

He smiled the second he saw you, pushing off the post and walking over like he couldn’t get to you fast enough. “Hey, babe. You okay?”

And instead of answering, you just stood there, staring at him—this man who had somehow become everything.

Jay frowned slightly, reaching out to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

You let out a breath, and before you could stop yourself, the words just slipped out “I love you.”

Jay stilled. His fingers twitched against your cheek, his expression unreadable.

Then, his lips parted. “Y/N…”

You panicked. “I—I mean it too I-”

But before you could take it back, Jay was already moving, already kissing you like he’d been waiting his whole life to hear you say those words.

And when he finally pulled back, breathless, a little dazed, he just grinned.

“You can say it again, you know.”

You rolled your eyes, but when he leaned in and whispered, “Say it again, baby,” you did.

Because you meant it.

Months later, the apartment felt different. Warmer. More like a home than a place you had been forced into.

The nursery had been Jay’s latest obsession. He had spent the entire day painting the walls, rearranging furniture, making sure everything was perfect. And now, he was sprawled across your bed, half-asleep, waiting for you.

You stood in the doorway, hand resting on your six-months-pregnant belly, watching him with amusement. His shirtless form was stretched across the mattress, hair still messy from the day’s work, an arm thrown over his eyes.

“Babe,” you called softly.

He groaned. “Mmm.”

You stepped forward, nudging his foot with yours. “You’re hogging the bed.”

Jay cracked one eye open, a slow, sleepy grin spreading across his lips. “And you’re glowing, mama.”

You rolled your eyes, crawling into bed beside him, letting out a relieved sigh as you sank into his warmth. Jay turned onto his side, one large hand coming to rest on your belly, thumb rubbing slow circles over the fabric of your shirt.

“Tired?” you asked.

“Exhausted,” he muttered, pressing a lazy kiss to your temple. “But you’re worth it.”

You smiled, letting your fingers trace the ridges of his forearm. “You’ve been working too hard.”

Jay hummed, shifting closer, his lips grazing your jaw, your cheek. “You’re carrying my kid. I’d build a whole damn castle if you wanted one.”

You let out a breathless laugh, shaking your head. “You’re ridiculous.”

He nuzzled against your cheek, voice growing drowsy. “Only for you, my Doll”

You turned your head slightly, pressing a kiss to the corner of his lips.

Jay smiled into it, whispering, “Can’t wait to meet them.”

Your heart squeezed, warmth flooding through you.

“Me too,” you whispered, letting yourself sink into him. “Me too.”

Then, in his half-asleep state, he muttered, “But if they have your stubborn streak, we’re doomed.”

You snorted. “Then you better start preparing now.”

He pulled you in tighter, his lips brushing your forehead. “I already have everything I need.”

You yawned, stretching your fingers along his bare chest before whispering, “Come here, baby.”

Jay let out a pleased hum, shifting fully into your arms, resting his head against your shoulder. His strong arms wrapped around you, careful yet firm, his warmth seeping into your skin as he melted into you.

“Mm, I like it when you call me that,” he murmured, voice thick with exhaustion.

You smirked, running a hand through his messy hair. “Good. Because I’m not stopping.”

As sleep began to claim you both, Jay murmured, “You know, I hated every second of that damn law.”

You sighed, your fingers tightening against his chest. “Me too.”

“But…” he continued, his voice soft and full of something deep, something real, “I’ve loved every second with you.”

You smiled, pressing a final kiss to his skin. “Me too, Jay. Me too."

fin.

taglist: @wonnienyang @firstclassjaylee @belle643 @ijustwannareadstuff20 @heelovesmeknot @heeseunggotrizz @jaeyunsbimbo @immelissaaa @somuchdard @jkslvsnella @vernorica123 @lillotus17

[thisisalwaysthat]

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀i kept him like a secret but he kept me like an oath ❤︎ p.js

pairing  :  ex bf!jay x ex gf!reader

synopsis ⿻ content  :  you and jay were the ideal couple—  cruising through high school and college together; known as nothing less than the definition of forever to most. you were both aware your futures held different stories; yet you still spent all of college hoping it would mesh into one. as you moved abroad to seoul to continue your studies, jay stays put in new york, settling into the corporate, white collar job he had always pined for. coming to reality with the fact that you cannot have jay in your world— you let him go. that is, only to find him at a rock concert 4 years later in the borough you called home, tearing up to the song that screamed your name like a mantra in his mind. 

warnings  :  crying , angst

wc  :  4.2k

a/n : i miss you and the friendship we had, writing this reminded me a lot of you

fic playlist    ⤿ **    all too well— taylor swift, on the drive home— niki epilogue for la la lost you ── read first part before this one !

you woke up.

you looked around—- unfamiliar? 

the scent, it was familiar.

you turn to your side to see jay lying next to you. how did you get here? you had no clue.

did you pass out? you weren't drunk— did you lose conciousness? did you fall asleep? you can't remember anything, though the scent of jay's sheets, his room, his body.. it's the same. the same room you had once fell the most in love in. the jacket tossed over his chair, the display of colognes on the shelving, the sunglasses lined up neatly— the uniformity, he still owned it.

you didn't want to cause a ruckus. heck, you weren't even supposed to be here. it's not surprising he took you in, you hadn't even realized his aroma grounding you. 

and for the first time in a long time, it felt like home. 

trying as not to make noise, you pull the sheets off your body and quietly climb off the bed. you were wearing a completely different outfit jay had put on you. an oversized t-shirt and some boxer shorts. ironically, they were the exact ones you had years ago. "i guess he never tossed them out," you thought. you grabbed your jacket off the hanger and crept outside the door until—

"yn?" you freeze.

"yn? baby—" you could already hear the tears welling up in his eyes through the thickness of his voice.

you turn around and you see him sitting straight up in bed, arms reaching out for you with glistening eyes and messy hair.

"jay, i can't stay." you whisper.

"why not? please you've been gone for so long, please just talk to me like before." 

"there's nothing to talk about."

"yn.. please don't say that. you have no idea how long i stayed up believing our relationship was just a game to you. that i meant nothing to you, that you never loved me." he croaks, voice cracking with each syllable.

"you have no idea how at peace i felt last night holding you and watching you sleep. i didn't sleep until the sun came up i- i thought you'd try to leave in the morning and i would never see you again."

"turns out you did try to leave…" his voice fades with disappointment.

"jay. you know i never meant any of that—" "then what did you mean, exactly? what was that? you— leaving halfway across the world and suddenly disappearing? do you have any idea how worried i was? please don't make this seem small, yn. i'm begging you, please stay a little longer."

you stood, limp, in his bedroom staring at him confessing his profound love to you even after years of not speaking. you can't lie, you still thought of him everyday. 

on the verge of tears, you step closer to him and slowly sit infront of him on the bed.

delicately, you reach a hand out to caress his face where his tears were slowly beginning to form.

with a voice laced with softness and sincerity, you spoke.

"my handsome boy, don't cry. okay?" you face scrunched, hardly able to prevent the inevitable tears from falling aswell.

news flash, they did. you began tearing up uncontrollably.

"i'm so sorry i went ghost all those years ago— you were so far from me, and i didn't know what to do. i didn't know if we were falling apart because of distance or trust. i hated feeling that way, i thought this was the better choice so you'd be able to move on from me and this unforgiving relationship."

"my jongseong" you inched towards the backboard and leaned on it, signaling for him to come lay on you.

"after that night, i started thinking about you every time i fell asleep. fuck— you were my first thought every morning and my last every night. i'd look at our pictures until 3am, i'd stare at your old text messages and reread them over and over again until i felt your warmth again, i even went to go buy the brand of cologne you wore so i never lost your scent. but— it never worked, it was missing your boyfriend scent."

you thought it was selfish to come back and expect him to crawl back into your arms. little did you know, he had never left the spot you left him in.

"you're my everything, yn. i'll take me some time to forgive you— but i've never not loved you. please don't forget that. i don't want to be in this world if you're not by my side."

"i don't want any other life, baby. i want you."

he curled up into your side as you held onto him like a lifeline, sobbing together and laughing through the pain.

"i can't even tell you how many times i've dreamed of waking up to you kissing my face and holding me like this. please promise me you'll never go ghost in my life like that ever again."

"never again, jay. i'll be your yn for the rest of your life."

[thisisalwaysthat]

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀i kept him like a secret but he kept me like an oath ❤︎ p.js

pairing  :  ex bf!jay x ex gf!reader

synopsis ⿻ content  :  you and jay were the ideal couple—  cruising through high school and college together; known as nothing less than the definition of forever to most. you were both aware your futures held different stories; yet you still spent all of college hoping it would mesh into one. as you moved abroad to seoul to continue your studies, jay stays put in new york, settling into the corporate, white collar job he had always pined for. coming to reality with the fact that you cannot have jay in your world— you let him go. that is, only to find him at a rock concert 4 years later in the borough you called home, tearing up to the song that screamed your name like a mantra in his mind. 

warnings  :  crying , angst

wc  :  4.2k

a/n : i miss you and the friendship we had, writing this reminded me a lot of you

fic playlist    ⤿ **    all too well— taylor swift, on the drive home— niki epilogue for la la lost you ── read first part before this one !

you woke up.

you looked around—- unfamiliar? 

the scent, it was familiar.

you turn to your side to see jay lying next to you. how did you get here? you had no clue.

did you pass out? you weren't drunk— did you lose conciousness? did you fall asleep? you can't remember anything, though the scent of jay's sheets, his room, his body.. it's the same. the same room you had once fell the most in love in. the jacket tossed over his chair, the display of colognes on the shelving, the sunglasses lined up neatly— the uniformity, he still owned it.

you didn't want to cause a ruckus. heck, you weren't even supposed to be here. it's not surprising he took you in, you hadn't even realized his aroma grounding you. 

and for the first time in a long time, it felt like home. 

trying as not to make noise, you pull the sheets off your body and quietly climb off the bed. you were wearing a completely different outfit jay had put on you. an oversized t-shirt and some boxer shorts. ironically, they were the exact ones you had years ago. "i guess he never tossed them out," you thought. you grabbed your jacket off the hanger and crept outside the door until—

"yn?" you freeze.

"yn? baby—" you could already hear the tears welling up in his eyes through the thickness of his voice.

you turn around and you see him sitting straight up in bed, arms reaching out for you with glistening eyes and messy hair.

"jay, i can't stay." you whisper.

"why not? please you've been gone for so long, please just talk to me like before." 

"there's nothing to talk about."

"yn.. please don't say that. you have no idea how long i stayed up believing our relationship was just a game to you. that i meant nothing to you, that you never loved me." he croaks, voice cracking with each syllable.

"you have no idea how at peace i felt last night holding you and watching you sleep. i didn't sleep until the sun came up i- i thought you'd try to leave in the morning and i would never see you again."

"turns out you did try to leave…" his voice fades with disappointment.

"jay. you know i never meant any of that—" "then what did you mean, exactly? what was that? you— leaving halfway across the world and suddenly disappearing? do you have any idea how worried i was? please don't make this seem small, yn. i'm begging you, please stay a little longer."

you stood, limp, in his bedroom staring at him confessing his profound love to you even after years of not speaking. you can't lie, you still thought of him everyday. 

on the verge of tears, you step closer to him and slowly sit infront of him on the bed.

delicately, you reach a hand out to caress his face where his tears were slowly beginning to form.

with a voice laced with softness and sincerity, you spoke.

"my handsome boy, don't cry. okay?" you face scrunched, hardly able to prevent the inevitable tears from falling aswell.

news flash, they did. you began tearing up uncontrollably.

"i'm so sorry i went ghost all those years ago— you were so far from me, and i didn't know what to do. i didn't know if we were falling apart because of distance or trust. i hated feeling that way, i thought this was the better choice so you'd be able to move on from me and this unforgiving relationship."

"my jongseong" you inched towards the backboard and leaned on it, signaling for him to come lay on you.

"after that night, i started thinking about you every time i fell asleep. fuck— you were my first thought every morning and my last every night. i'd look at our pictures until 3am, i'd stare at your old text messages and reread them over and over again until i felt your warmth again, i even went to go buy the brand of cologne you wore so i never lost your scent. but— it never worked, it was missing your boyfriend scent."

you thought it was selfish to come back and expect him to crawl back into your arms. little did you know, he had never left the spot you left him in.

"you're my everything, yn. i'll take me some time to forgive you— but i've never not loved you. please don't forget that. i don't want to be in this world if you're not by my side."

"i don't want any other life, baby. i want you."

he curled up into your side as you held onto him like a lifeline, sobbing together and laughing through the pain.

"i can't even tell you how many times i've dreamed of waking up to you kissing my face and holding me like this. please promise me you'll never go ghost in my life like that ever again."

"never again, jay. i'll be your yn for the rest of your life."

[jongst4r]

practice makes perfect — park jongseong

in which jay gives you lessons on how to get (and fuck) jake sim.

synopsis: when your crush on jake sim turns into full-blown panic about your complete lack of experience, your best friend suggests the one person on campus who can help: jay park — the dangerously attractive, notoriously skilled senior with a reputation for being an incredible teacher.

what starts as innocent lessons in flirting, kissing, and confidence quickly spirals into something much hotter… and much more complicated. because the more jay teaches you how to drive jake crazy, the more you realize you only want him touching you.

pairing: jay x fem!reader (x jake)

wc: 34.6k

warnings: smut! light fluff and angst

cw: college au, love triangle, mutual pining, slow burn. themes of virginity, virginity loss, sexual inexperience, anxiety about intimacy. mentions of alcohol. explicit sexual content (kissing, making out, dry humping, handjob, blowjob, p in v, unprotected sex.) heavy flirting and sexual tension, playful teasing, use of petnames, strong language.

a/n: even though today is my birthday, i wanted to be the one giving you a gift. so... yeah, here you go, the longest fic i've ever written. i hope you enjoy it as much as i did while writing! <3

the bass hums low through the crowded living room, a warm pulse that vibrates under your skin as you lean against the kitchen counter, half-hidden behind a cluster of red plastic cups.

the party is the usual saturday chaos — too many people crammed into this frat house off campus, bodies swaying and bumping into each other under the dim string lights someone messily hung on the ceiling. laughter spills over the music, loud, while the faint smell of cheap beer, cheap vodka, and even cheaper perfume hangs thick in the air, mixing with the occasional scent of cigarette smoke drifting in from the backyard. red cups litter every surface, and the floor already feels sticky under your sneakers from whatever got spilled earlier.

but your eyes stay fixed across the room, unable to look anywhere else, like some invisible string keeps pulling your gaze back no matter how much you tell yourself to stop.

jake sim stands near the sliding glass doors that lead to the backyard, where the night air probably feels cooler and less suffocating than in here.

one hand is casually tucked into the pocket of his dark jeans, the fabric hugging his legs just right, while the other gestures animatedly as he talks to a girl you vaguely recognize from your literature class — maybe her name is karina or something close. she’s laughing at something he said, head tilted back in that carefree way, exposing the line of her throat, her fingers brushing his arm every few seconds like she can’t help touching him. the way she leans into his space screams interest, flirtiness, and he doesn’t pull away. if anything, he seems to welcome it, that charm radiating off him.

and jake — good god, jake looks perfect. the kind of perfect that makes your chest ache with a sharp, longing twist.

he’s wearing a simple black button-up with the sleeves rolled to his elbows, exposing those toned forearms that flex subtly every time he moves his hand for emphasis. his hair falls softly over his forehead in that effortless, slightly tousled way, like he ran his fingers through it once and left it alone, knowing it would look devastating. the dim lighting catches on the sharp line of his jaw, the warm brown of his eyes, and when he smiles at her, it’s the same warm, dimpled smile he’s given you a dozen times in the hallway or during group project meetings. the kind of smile that feels like sunlight breaking through clouds, crinkling the corners of his eyes and making his whole face light up.

he leans in closer to hear her better over the music, nodding along with genuine interest, his full attention on her like she’s the only person in this entire crowded house.

that’s the thing about jake. when he focuses on someone, it feels like the rest of the world fades into background noise — no distractions, no half-measures. just him, fully present, making you feel seen in a way that’s dangerously addictive.

you swallow hard, fingers tightening around your barely-touched drink until the plastic creaks under your grip. the soda has gone warm and gass-less, but you don’t care. you haven’t taken more than a sip in the last twenty minutes anyway, too busy nursing this quiet ache while pretending to scroll on your phone every few seconds so no one notices you staring.

you’ve been crushing on him for four months now.

four long, torturous months of stolen glances across lecture halls, light flirting in the library where his knee would accidentally brush yours under the table, and random texts about class notes that somehow turned into conversations about favorite movies and late-night snacks and that one time he admitted he secretly loves cheesy romance dramas even though his friends would tease him endlessly for it.

and, the thing is, everybody knows jake doesn’t flirt casually. if he gives a girl that kind of attention — the lingering eye contact, the playful teasing texts at midnight, the way he remembers small details like how you take your coffee — it means he’s interested in something real. dating, commitment, the whole boyfriend package with hand-holding walks across campus and good morning messages that make your heart race.

he’s had two serious girlfriends in the past three years, one lasting several months where you’d see them together looking so effortlessly in sync, the other stretching a whole year where rumors said they were practically inseparable until things eventually ended on good terms. each one looking blissfully happy in his presence, glowing like they’d unlocked some secret level of connection and pleasure that you can only imagine.

and that’s exactly why your stomach twists into tight, anxious knots right now.

you’re a virgin. painfully, embarrassingly inexperienced.

you’ve kissed a couple guys before, sure — awkward fumbling in the dark during high school parties, all sloppy lips and unsure hands that never quite knew where to go or how to make it feel good. but nothing more. no one has ever touched you the way you know jake has touched his exes. you’ve overheard enough whispered conversations in the girls’ bathroom or seen the way those exes still look at him sometimes with fond, satisfied smiles.

jake is the type who probably knows exactly what he’s doing — patient, attentive, skilled in ways that leave girls breathless and glowing, satisfied down to their bones. the kind of guy who takes his time, learns what makes someone moan and shiver, who makes sex feel like an art form instead of a clumsy rush. and the thought of him finding out how clueless you are makes your cheeks burn even in the middle of this loud, overheated party, a flush creeping up your neck that has nothing to do with the alcohol you’re barely drinking.

what if you freeze up when things finally get intimate? what if your hands shake too much to touch him the right way, or you don’t know how to kiss him properly with that slow, deep confidence he probably expects? what if you can’t make him feel good, can’t match the energy of his past girlfriends who clearly knew how to please him back? what if he realizes you’re not on the same level — not experienced, not sexy, not adventurous enough — and the interest in his eyes dims? the flirting would stop. the texts would fade. he’d move on to someone who doesn’t need to google basic techniques in secret or lie awake at night worrying about being a disappointment in bed.

you bite the inside of your cheek hard enough to taste the faint metallic taste, forcing your gaze away just as the girl leans up to whisper something in jake’s ear. her lips brush close, too close, and he laughs softly — that low, charming sound carrying across the room like a sweet melody cut through the bass. it’s warm and genuine, the kind that makes butterflies erupt in your stomach even from this distance.

you turn toward the counter instead, pretending to refill your cup from the half-empty punch bowl, the liquid sloshing messily as your hand trembles slightly. the ice cubes clink loudly in your cup, a small distraction from the way your heart pounds against your ribs.

around you, the party pulses on without pause. someone bumps your shoulder accidentally, muttering a quick sorry before disappearing back into the crowd. a group of girls nearby bursts into giggles over some inside joke, their voices high and tipsy. the music shifts to a slower track, something with heavy bass and breathy vocals that only makes the atmosphere feel more charged, more intimate despite the chaos. you glance back once more, unable to resist, and catch jake’s eyes flicking in your direction for the briefest second. does he see you? does that dimpled smile flicker with recognition? your breath catches, but then he’s turning back to the girl, saying something that makes her touch his arm again, and the moment slips away like smoke.

you set the cup down untouched, wiping your damp palms on the sides of your jeans. the insecurity sits heavy in your chest, a constant whisper reminding you that jake sim deserves someone who can keep up. someone confident. someone who knows how to flirt without second-guessing every word, how to touch without hesitation, how to make a guy like him lose control in the best ways.

and right now, that someone feels impossibly far from who you are — standing here in the corner, heart racing over nothing more than a smile across a crowded room.

the party swirls around you, alive and indifferent, but your mind stays trapped in that loop of what-ifs and quiet longing, the bass still humming low like a reminder that time is moving forward whether you’re ready or not.

“you’re doing that thing again,” a familiar voice says beside you.

yunjin appears like magic, sliding an arm around your waist and resting her chin on your shoulder. her long hair tickles your neck, smelling like coconut shampoo and the strawberry lip gloss she always wears. she’s been your best friend since freshman orientation — loud where you’re quiet, confident where you overthink everything.

“what thing?” you mumble, even though you already know.

“the ‘staring at jake like he hung the moon but also might destroy my entire soul’ thing.” she steals a sip from your cup and grimaces. “ugh, you’re drinking the watered-down shit again. come on, let’s get you something stronger.”

you let her drag you toward the other end of the kitchen, but your mind stays stuck on jake. even through the hazy, crowded warmth of the party, your eyes keep drifting back to where he’s laughing with some guys from the club soccer team. yunjin notices, of course. she always does, her grip tightening on your arm in a silent show of support while she pours something sweet and dangerously strong into a fresh red cup for you.

later that night, after the party finally winds down and the bass stops rattling your teeth, you’re both back in your shared off-campus apartment. the contrast is jarring, the heavy silence of the night settling over everything. the real conversation happens when the rest of the world is asleep. you’re sprawled on your bed in oversized pajamas, hair still slightly damp and curling from a quick shower, while yunjin sits cross-legged on the floor painting her nails a deep, glossy burgundy. the lamp on your nightstand casts a soft, amber glow across the room, and the distant city hums faintly outside the window.

“okay, spill,” she says without looking up, carefully dragging the tiny brush over her thumbnail. “you’ve been weird about jake for weeks. what’s the hold-up? he literally flirted with you for twenty minutes last tuesday in the café. he doesn’t do that unless he’s serious. he was giving you that puppy-dog look the whole time.”

you pull your knees tightly to your chest, hugging them until your knuckles turn white. the weight of the secret has been crushing you for days, and the words finally tumble out before you can stop them.

“i’m scared, yunjin. really scared.”

she glances up instantly, the brush hovering inches above her index finger. the playful tease drops from her face. “scared of what? jake’s a sweetheart. he’s not some asshole who’s going to play games with you.”

“it’s not him. it’s… me.” your voice drops to a pathetic whisper, your cheeks instantly heating up with a fierce, burning blush. you bury your chin in your knees. “i’m a virgin. completely. i’ve barely even done anything beyond clumsy high school kissing. and jake’s had actual girlfriends. serious ones. he knows what he’s doing, yunjin. what if i’m bad at it? what if i disappoint him? he’ll realize i’m not… enough. not experienced enough. not sexy enough. not whatever his exes were.”

yunjin sets the nail polish bottle down on a stray magazine slowly, giving you her full, undivided attention. her expression softens, the fierce protectiveness she always has for you melting into something tender, though there’s still a sharp spark of determination in her eyes.

“babe… first of all, that’s so normal. lots of people are virgins in college, even if they don't advertise it. second, if jake likes you — and he clearly does — he’s not going to expect you to be some kind of porn star on day one. he'd probably think it was sweet, honestly.” she pauses, watching your miserable expression. “but i get it. you want to feel confident. you don't want to be overthinking every single touch when you're finally alone with him. you want to blow his mind when it happens.”

you nod miserably, burying your face completely in your knees for a second, your voice muffled. “i just want to feel like I know what I'm doing. just a little bit.”

yunjin taps her freshly painted fingers on the carpet, her mind visibly whirring. then she smiles — that mischievous, slightly dangerous, scheming smile you know all too well. it’s the smile that usually precedes a terrible, brilliant idea.

“if you really want to impress him… there’s someone who can help.”

you peek at her over the tops of your knees, skeptical. “what do you mean? like a book? a podcast?”

“sunghoon’s friend. jay. jay park.” she says it like the name should mean something immediately, dropping it into the quiet room like a bombshell. “he’s discreet as hell. experienced — like, really experienced. girls talk about him in hushed tones in the sorority houses, trust me. apparently he’s an incredible teacher. no strings attached, just pure skill-building. he’s actually done this before for a couple of people who were in your exact shoes. helps them get confident, learn what they need to know. everything from flirting, body language, touching, all the way down to… you know.”

your eyes widen to the size of saucers. “you’re joking. you want me to ask a random guy to tutor me in sex?”

“dead serious. he’s not a fuckboy in the messy, heartbroken-trail way. more like… selective. efficient.” yunjin leans forward, resting her elbows on her knees, her tone shifting into something more serious. “and look, here's the thing. jay is known for fucking the girls he hangs out with, yeah. he has that reputation for a reason. but… you don't have to do that. he's not some caveman. jay is actually the best one on this entire campus to go to for advice, even if you never lay a finger on him.”

she waves a hand to emphasize her point, careful not to smudge her polish. “he might make an exception for you. you can literally just have the option of not sleeping with him. you can just go to him, tell him the situation, and let him give you advice. he knows how guys think, he knows what jake’s vibe is since they run in similar circles, and he can literally just talk you through it. teach you how to read the room, how to touch without being awkward. but if you do decide you want hands-on practice? he's the guy. if you approach him the right way and you’re honest, he’ll probably say yes to whatever level you’re comfortable with. he’s good at keeping secrets too. sunghoon swears he's the most trustworthy guy he knows.”

you stare at her, your heart hammering a rapid rhythm against your ribs. jay. you’ve seen him around campus, of course. everyone has. he’s impossible to miss — tall, with that sharp jawline, dark hair usually styled flawlessly, always dressed like he just stepped out of a high-end fashion magazine. he has this quiet, heavy confidence mixed with a sharp, teasing look that makes people nervous to look him in the eye for too long. the mere idea of walking up to him and asking him for… lessons felt completely insane. humiliating. but beneath the embarrassment, a tiny, buried part of you felt a thrill that was absolutely terrifying.

“i couldn’t,” you whisper, your voice shaking slightly. “yunjin, that’s crazy. 'hey jay, can you teach me how to be good in bed so i can go sleep with your acquaintance?' he’ll laugh in my face.”

“is it crazier than stressing yourself sick over whether you’ll be good enough for jake? you're practically giving yourself an ulcer over a guy who hasn't even kissed you yet.” yunjin raises a perfectly shaped eyebrow. “look, you deserve to feel prepared. empowered. jay’s the guy for that, whether he's just talking to you over a drink or showing you what to do. no emotions, no drama, just practice and advice. think about it. just promise me you'll think about it.”

the conversation lingers long after yunjin finally packs up her nail polish and leaves your room, kissing your forehead goodnight and telling you to text her if you need to spiral more. you lie awake in the dark, staring at the ceiling, the name jay repeating in your head like a dare.

you lie there in the dark, the harsh blue glow of your phone illuminating your face in the otherwise pitch-black room. your thumb hovers precariously over the message bar, trembling slightly.

you had found jay’s contact info through a mutual friend's group chat earlier that night, your heart racing so fast you could hear it in your ears the entire time you were saving his number. now, at exactly 2:17 a.m., the sheer absurdity of the hour matches the sheer absurdity of what you're about to do. you type a sentence, delete it. type another, delete that too. you rewrite the message five times, your palms sweating against the glass screen, before you finally force your thumb to stay still and craft something that sounds at least semi-coherent.

you: hi… this is awkward but um. yunjin mentioned you might be able to help with some… lessons? about confidence and stuff. with guys. i’m really new to all of it and there’s this guy i like and i don’t want to mess it up. if you’re not interested that’s totally fine, sorry for bothering you this late.

you hit send.

the instant the little outgoing chime sounds, a wave of pure, instant regret crashes over you. you toss the phone away like it’s physically burning you, letting it land somewhere in the tangled blankets at the foot of your bed. you cover your face with both hands, groaning softly into the quiet room. this is ridiculous. it's humiliating. who even asks for something like this? jay park is going to think you're an absolute freak, or worse, he's going to screenshot it and show sunghoon.

a minute passes. then two. the silence in your room feels heavy, suffocating. you're just about to reach down and turn the phone completely off to save yourself further agony when the mattress vibrates.

buzz.

your heart leaps into your throat. you scramble through the covers, fishing for the device and unlocking it with shaking fingers.

jay: well this is a new way to get my attention. lessons, huh? for a specific guy? bold.

before you can even process the dry, teasing tone of his text, another message bubbles up right underneath it.

jay: meet me tomorrow at the café near the east library. 4pm. we can talk details. don’t overthink it too much, newbie.

your stomach flips hard, dropping into a dizzying freefall. he said yes. kind of. it’s incredibly teasing, dripping with the exact kind of effortless confidence that usually intimidates you, but it’s still a yes. he didn't laugh you off. he didn't tell you to lose his number.

you roll onto your back, dropping the phone onto your chest and staring up at the ceiling fan spinning lazily above you. the shadows from the blades cut rhythmic patterns across the ceiling, but they do nothing to soothe your mind, which is currently racing at a thousand miles an hour.

what the hell are you actually doing?

asking jay park — the campus mystery, the guy who walks through hallways like he owns them, the one with that intense, piercing stare that makes people look away first — to teach you how to flirt, how to touch, how to… god, how to do everything. and you're doing it all just so you can feel like you're enough for jake sim. the contrast between the two boys couldn't be wider: jake, with his warm, sweet, golden-retriever energy and easy smiles, and jay, who feels like a sharp knife, dark leather jackets, and expensive cologne.

but underneath the suffocating layers of panic and embarrassment, a tiny, unfamiliar spark begins to take hold. it’s a spark of excitement. of real hope. yunjin was right; you've been putting yourself through misery over your lack of experience. maybe this is exactly what you need to break out of your own head. maybe jay really can turn you into someone confident, someone desirable — someone who won’t freeze up or panic when jake finally makes a real move.

you pull the heavy blanket higher up over your shoulders, curling onto your side as your phone screen finally times out and dims, plunging the room back into total darkness.

tomorrow at 4 p.m. there's no backing out now. you're really doing this.

and as exhaustion finally starts to get to you, a nervous, slightly hysterical laugh escapes your lips into the quiet apartment.

what have you gotten yourself into?

-------

the next afternoon, 4:00 p.m. arrives far too quickly.

the café near the east library is tucked away in a quieter corner of the campus, mostly populated by grad students typing furiously on laptops and the heavy smell of roasted coffee beans. you change your outfit three times before leaving the apartment, finally settling on something casual but not too casual, your hands sweating the entire walk over.

when you push the glass door open, the little bell chiming above you feels like a death threat. you look around the dimly lit space, and there he is.

jay is sitting at a small corner table near the back window, looking entirely too calm and entirely too hot for a thursday afternoon. he’s wearing a simple black sweater, the sleeves pushed up to reveal his forearms, and his dark hair is perfectly styled, just like always. he has a half-empty iced americano in front of him, his thumb casually scrolling through his phone. there’s a quiet, effortless aura of arrogance around him, but as he catches movement and looks up, his sharp features soften into a playful, lazy smirk.

“you’re exactly on time,” he says, his voice a low, smooth rumble that instantly makes your stomach do a flip. he slides the empty chair opposite him out with his foot. “sit. you look like you’re about to faint.”

you sink into the chair, gripping your tote bag tightly against your chest like a shield. “hi. thank you for coming.”

“relax, newbie. i don’t bite,” he teases, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. he studies your burning, red face for a second before a soft chuckle escapes him. “you know, you could have just told me the whole story in the text. saved yourself some typing.”

you blink, confused. “what do you mean?”

jay leans forward, resting his elbows on the table, his dark eyes locking onto yours with a dangerous amount of amusement. “yunjin told sunghoon. sunghoon told me. so, i already know the full context.” his smirk widens, making him look devastatingly handsome. “so you want to learn how to fuck properly for jake sim? bold.”

your entire face explodes in a fierce, blinding heat. you literally feel the blood rushing to your cheeks, and for a terrifying, very long second, you consider hiding under the table or running away as fast as you can. you bury your face in your hands, your voice muffled and laced with pure mortification. “oh my god. i am going to kill yunjin. i am actually going to murder her.”

jay lets out a genuine, low laugh at your reaction, the sound rich and surprisingly warm. “don’t kill her yet. she’s just looking out for you. and honestly? it’s refreshing. most girls try a lot harder to play it cool around me.”

you slowly drop your hands, your cheeks still burning a bright pink. “i don't even know what i'm doing here. this is insane.”

“it’s only insane if you make it insane,” jay says calmly, his playful tone softening just a fraction into something a bit more business-like. he pushes a clean napkin and a pen toward you, though he keeps his eyes on your face. “let’s treat this like an introduction. an assessment. before we can fix anything, i need to know what we’re working with. list all the things you think you’re bad at. everything you're worried about. so i know what to focus on.”

you stare at the blank napkin, swallowing hard. the vulnerability of it feels immense, but you’re already here, and you’re already completely humiliated. you take a deep breath and start listing them off, your voice dropping to a quiet whisper so the barista won’t hear.

“flirting,” you start, counting on your fingers instead of writing it down. “i freeze up. and… kissing. i’ve only ever done clumsy high school kissing, nothing serious. touching… like, knowing where to put my hands without being awkward. sex, obviously, since i’ve never done it. and… just confidence in general. i overthink everything until i ruin the mood.”

jay listens quietly, his sharp eyes tracking the movement of your fingers. he doesn't laugh, and he doesn't tease you this time. he just nods slowly, absorbing the information.

“okay. that’s a solid list,” he says. then, his gaze drops to how tightly you’re still clutching your bag, your knuckles white, your shoulders tense and pulled high. his eyes lift back to yours, perceptive and sharp. “you’re terrified i’m going to try to jump you, aren’t you?”

your breath hitches. you open your mouth to deny it, but the words catch in your throat. you are skeptical about getting physical with him. the idea of practicing on jay park feels like playing with fire, and you’re fully aware you might get burned.

jay sighs softly, leaning back again, his posture completely relaxed to contrast your tension. “look at me.”

you look up, meeting his intense stare.

“yunjin told you i have a reputation, and she’s right. i’m not going to sit here and pretend i’m a saint,” jay says, his tone completely direct, peer-to-peer, without a shred of judgment. “but i don’t do anything without absolute consent. i can see you’re stressed out of your mind right now. so, let’s take the pressure off. we are not getting physical. the ‘lessons’ will be entirely theoretical. just talking, advice, breaking down how guys think, and giving you the blueprint. unless you explicitly ask to change that later down the line, we keep our hands to ourselves. deal?”

the relief that washes over you is so sudden and heavy that your shoulders visibly drop. “deal. thank you. seriously.”

“don’t thank me yet, newbie. you’re still going to have to work on that confidence,” jay says, that familiar, teasing grin creeping back onto his face. he stands up, grabbing his iced coffee and sliding his phone into his pocket. “we’re done for today. meet me at my dorm tomorrow afternoon. third floor of the west quad, room 314. we’ll start the actual work then.”

he gives you one last, lingering look — a mix of amusement and something else you can’t quite read — before turning and walking out of the café, leaving you alone at the table with a racing heart and the sudden realization that you’re actually going through with this.

-------

the next afternoon, you find yourself standing outside room 314 in the west quad, your heart doing gymnastics against your ribs. you take three deep, stabilizing breaths before finally raising a shaking hand to knock.

the door swings open almost immediately, and jay stands there looking effortlessly put-together in a gray hoodie and sweatpants. his hair is slightly messy today, falling over his forehead, which somehow makes him look even more intimidatingly handsome.

“you’re on time again. i like that,” he says, stepping back to let you in.

his dorm is surprisingly clean and smells faintly of sandalwood and expensive laundry detergent. there’s a vinyl player in the corner, a desk stacked with textbooks, and a neatly made bed. jay walks over to his desk chair, spins it around to face the bed, and motions for you to sit on the mattress.

“alright, newbie. welcome to lesson one,” jay says, his tone shifting into something surprisingly focused. he sits down, crossing his legs and resting his elbows on his knees. “today is all about the fundamentals. eye contact, body language, and light teasing. if you can't master the tension before you even touch a guy, everything else falls flat. so, we start here.”

you nod, swallowing hard, trying to look like a good student. “okay. what do i do?”

“first thing: eye contact,” jay says, leaning forward slightly. his dark eyes lock onto yours, intense and unblinking. “when you’re talking to jake, you have a habit of looking down at your shoes or glancing away every three seconds. it makes you look like you’re guilty of a crime. i want you to hold my gaze. don’t look away until i do.”

you brace yourself and look straight into his eyes. one second passes. then two. the sheer intensity of his stare feels like a physical weight in the room. by second four, your heart is pounding, your throat feels dry, and your eyes instinctively dart toward the window.

jay lets out a soft, amused scoff. “four seconds. tragic. again.”

you lock eyes with him again, biting the inside of your cheek. this time, you manage to hold it, but you can feel your face flushing a bright, furious pink.

jay watches the blush spread across your cheeks, a slow, lazy half-smile spreading across his face. he’s clearly enjoying how easily he can fluster you, his eyes crinkling slightly at the corners. “you’re cute when you’re panicking, you know that? but you need to relax your shoulders. you look like a statue.”

“it’s hard,” you complain, your voice a little high. “you’re staring at me like a hawk.”

“jake is going to stare at you too, newbie. you need to get used to it,” jay teases, leaning back in his chair with a playful grin. “alright, let’s move on to flirting and light teasing. pretend i’m jake. we’re at a party, i just walked up to you, and i say, ‘hey, i like your outfit.’ how do you respond?”

you clear your throat, trying to channel every romantic comedy you’ve ever watched. you try to mimic the slow, confident smirk jay always uses, but your lips twitch awkwardly.

“oh, this old thing?” you say, your voice dripping with a completely unnatural, overly dramatic theatricality. you even throw in a bizarre little hair flip that feels entirely forced. “thanks. i guess you don’t look too bad yourself.”

the room goes completely silent.

jay just stares at you for three long seconds, his expression an unbelievable mix of utter disbelief and pure, unadulterated amusement. then, he buries his face in his hands, his shoulders shaking as a deep, breathless laugh escapes him.

“oh my god,” jay groans, looking up at you with tears of laughter in his eyes. “that was… easily the worst thing i have ever heard in my entire life.”

“hey!” you yell, grabbing a stray pillow from his bed and throwing it at his chest. your face is practically purple with embarrassment. “i told you i was bad at this!”

jay catches the pillow effortlessly, still laughing. “bad? newbie, that wasn’t just bad. that was completely goofy. you sounded like a cartoon villain trying to seduce a detective. and what was that hair flip? did you have a muscle spasm?”

“stop laughing at me!” you hide your face in your hands, completely mortified. “this was a mistake. i’m leaving.”

“no, stay, sit down,” jay says, his laughter finally dying down into a wide, bright grin. he tosses the pillow back onto the bed and leans in closer, his voice dropping into a softer, playful murmur. “i'm sorry, i shouldn't laugh. it was honestly kind of endearing. but we definitely have our work cut out for us.”

you peek through your fingers at him, pouty and defensive. “fine. how am i supposed to say it, mr. expert?”

jay shifts in his chair, his entire demeanor changing in a split second. the laughter vanishes, replaced by a smooth, magnetic confidence that makes your breath hitch. he looks at you, his eyes dropping to your lips for a microsecond before rising back to your eyes. a small, knowing grin plays at the corner of his mouth.

“if i say ‘i like your outfit,’ you don’t act like a theater kid,” jay says softly, his voice a low, teasing purr that makes goosebumps break out on your arms. “you look him right in the eye, hold it for a second, smile just a little bit, and say… ‘thanks. i wore it hoping you’d notice.’”

you stare at him, your mouth slightly open, completely paralyzed by how smoothly he delivered the line. the air in the dorm suddenly feels incredibly thick, the playful atmosphere from a second ago completely evaporating into something heavy and charged.

jay holds your gaze for a beat longer, making sure the lesson lands, before breaking the tension with a quiet chuckle. he taps his fingers against his knee, leaning back in his chair. “see the difference? subtle. playful. now, let’s try it again. and this time, keep your hair exactly where it is.”

you swallow the lump in your throat, trying desperately to shake off the weird shiver that just ran down your spine. he’s just demonstrating, you remind yourself. he does this for fun.

“okay,” you mutter, pulling your knees up to your chest on his bed and trying to center yourself. “subtle. no theater-kid energy. got it.”

“alright. take two,” jay says, his expression shifting back into that smooth, predatory calm. he locks his eyes onto yours. “hey. i like your outfit.”

you force yourself not to look away. you look at his dark eyes, then let your gaze drop slightly to his lips — just like he did — before looking back up. you attempt a small, knowing smile, though your heart is hammering against your ribs.

“thanks,” you say, your voice a little softer than usual, a little more genuine. “i wore it hoping you’d notice.”

jay doesn't laugh this time. he stays perfectly still, his eyes tracking the slight tremor in your bottom lip. for a second, his grin falters, replaced by a sharp, intense curiosity that makes your stomach do a violent flip. then, the lazy crooked smile creeps back onto his face, and he nods approvingly.

“better,” he murmurs, his voice a low rumble. “way better. see? you don’t need to put on a performance. guys like jake — and guys like me — we can tell when a girl is trying too hard. authenticity is hotter than any script you could write. you just have to let yourself feel the tension instead of running away from it.”

the rest of the hour goes by in a blur of intense eye contact and brutal, playful critiques. jay puts you through a dozen different scenarios. he teaches you how to respond to a compliment without deflecting it, how to use a quiet pause in conversation to your advantage, and how a simple change in posture can make you look completely magnetic.

he doesn't miss a single chance to tease you, though. every time you stumble over your words or give a goofy response, he boops your nose with his pen or groans dramatically into his hands. but by the time the alarm on his phone buzzes to signal the end of the hour, you realize something shocking: you aren’t so uncomfortable anymore. you’re actually laughing with him.

“alright, session one complete,” jay says, standing up and stretching his arms over his head, pulling his hoodie up just enough for you to catch a glimpse of his toned stomach. you quickly look away, your face heating up again. he catches you, of course, and just smirks. “homework for tonight: practice looking people in the eye. the cashier at the dining hall, your professors, yunjin. don’t look down.”

“fine, professor park,” you roll your eyes, sliding off his bed and grabbing your bag. “thanks. for not totally giving up on me.”

“i don't give up on my projects, newbie,” he says, walking you to the door. he opens it, leaning against the frame and looking down at you with a soft, surprisingly warm expression. “see you in two days. don't overthink it.”

“i'll try,” you murmur, giving him a small wave before turning and walking down the hallway.

the walk back to your apartment is a long one, and the cool evening air does nothing to calm the frantic state of your brain. you wrap your cardigan tighter around yourself, your sneakers clicking rhythmically against the pavement as you re-read every single moment of the last hour in your head.

your mind is a chaotic mess of conflicting thoughts.

first of all, jay was right. the theoretical approach did help. just understanding the mechanics of how to hold a gaze and how to drop your voice made you feel like a secret weapon was being built inside you. you find yourself imagining using those exact tricks on jake next tuesday at the café. you imagine looking jake in the eye, holding his gaze, and saying something subtle and confident. the thought makes your stomach flutter with a nervous, happy anticipation. it’s exactly what you wanted.

but as you cross the street near the campus green, another thought creeps in, unbidden and entirely unwelcome.

jay.

you pull a breath into your lungs, a strange, tight feeling in your chest. you had gone into that room completely terrified of him, expecting a cold, arrogant guy who would judge your total lack of experience. instead, he had been… patient. incredibly observant. and so frustratingly attractive that it felt like a safety hazard.

when he had delivered that line — i wore it hoping you’d notice — the look in his eyes hadn't felt like a lesson at all. it had felt entirely too real. the way his voice had dropped, the way he had effortlessly controlled the energy in the room… it was terrifying how easily he could manipulate your feelings with just a shift in his posture.

he’s a professional, you remind yourself sternly, walking up the steps to your apartment building. he has a reputation for a reason. he’s doing this to help you with jake. do not confuse the lines.

yet, as you unlock your front door and hear yunjin yelling something from the kitchen, you can’t shake the memory of jay’s lazy, knowing smirk from your mind. you had spent weeks stressing yourself sick over jake sim, but as you step into your apartment, you realize with a sudden wave of panic that learning how to play the game with jay park might be a hundred times more dangerous.

-------

two days later, you find yourself back outside room 314. you don't even need to take three deep breaths this time — only two.

when jay opens the door, he’s wearing a faded vintage band tee and dark jeans, looking like he just rolled out of bed but somehow still managed to look effortlessly attractive. he takes one look at your face, steps back to let you in, and closes the door with a quiet click.

“welcome back, newbie,” he says, a lazy grin already spreading across his face. “did you do your homework? did you look the dining hall lady in the eye, or did you stare at your tater tots again?”

“i looked her straight in the eye,” you say proudly, tossing your tote bag onto his desk chair. “she looked confused, but i didn’t look down once.”

“proud of you,” jay chuckles, walking over to his mini-fridge to grab a bottle of water. he takes a sip before turning his full attention to you, his eyes sweeping over your outfit before locking onto yours. “alright, today is lesson two. we’re graduating from eye contact. today is all about compliments, voice tone, and what i like to call ‘innocent’ touching. leaning in, brushing an arm, breaking the physical barrier without making it a big deal. ready?”

you nod, though your stomach does a familiar little nervous flip. “ready.”

“good. sit on the bed,” jay commands smoothly, pulling his desk chair over so he’s sitting directly across from you again, only this time, he hitches the chair closer. his knees are barely a few inches from yours. the proximity alone makes the air feel instantly thick. “let’s start with compliments and tone. a lot of girls think giving a compliment means squealing and saying ‘oh my god your hair looks so good today!’ that’s friend-zone energy. jake doesn't need another cheerleader. he needs to know you see him as a man. understand?”

“yeah,” you murmur, swallowing hard.

“so, voice tone is everything. drop your volume. speak from your chest, not your throat. make him lean in to hear you,” jay instructs, his own voice dropping into that low, gravelly pitch that makes your ears tingle. “let’s try it. i walk up to you. i’m jake. i’m wearing a nice cologne. compliment me.”

you take a second to clear your throat, trying to channel your inner siren. you lean forward slightly, look him in the eye, and speak in what you think is a sultry whisper. “wow, jay. you smell really… nice. like a tree.”

jay blinks. the room is dead silent for three seconds.

then, he lets out a sharp, breathless laugh, burying his face in his hands. “like a tree? like a tree? oh my god, newbie, please tell me you’re joking.”

“it’s sandalwood!” you protest, your face instantly turning a furious shade of crimson as you grab his pillow again, though this time he anticipates it and firmly plants a hand on it before you can throw it. “you literally smell like sandalwood and cedar! that’s a tree!”

“you sound like a park ranger,” jay groans, his shoulders shaking with laughter as he pulls the pillow out of your hands. “and your voice went all breathy and weird at the end, like you were running out of oxygen. i said drop your pitch, not sound like you have asthma.”

“i told you i’m bad at this!” you whine, burying your burning face in your hands. “this is why i’m a virgin, jay. i have negative game.”

“hey, look at me,” jay says, his voice softening, though the vibrant amusement is still dancing in his dark eyes. he gently reaches out and taps your wrist until you drop your hands from your face. “it’s fine. that’s why you’re here. let’s try it again, but don’t think about the specific words. don’t describe the scent. just focus on how it makes you feel. and keep the voice steady. smooth. try it.”

you take a deep breath, looking into his eyes. you wait a beat, letting the silence stretch just like he taught you in lesson one. then, keeping your voice low and stable, you say, “you smell really good today. it’s distracting.”

jay pauses. his smirk falters for a fraction of a second, his eyes darkening just a tiny bit as he processes the delivery. a slow, appreciative smile replaces his laughter. “there we go. that’s the tone. smooth, grounded, a little bit dangerous. jake would literally lose his mind if you said that to him.”

a rush of pride swells in your chest. you actually did it.

“alright, now let’s add the physical element,” jay says, leaning back slightly but keeping his eyes locked onto yours. “innocent touching is all about making it look accidental. it has to look accidental, but feel intentional. a brush of the shoulder when you laugh, a lingering touch on the arm when you’re emphasizing a point. it makes the moments stick, you know? let’s combine them. give me that same compliment, but this time, i want you to break the physical barrier.”

your heart restarts its frantic rhythm. touching him wasn’t part of the original plan, but this is entirely safe — just an arm, just a shoulder. theoretical practice in action.

“okay,” you whisper.

you look at him. you focus on your breathing, trying to get rid of the tension in your shoulders. you lean in slightly, your eyes dropping to his lips before rising back to his eyes. you reach your hand out, your fingers trembling just a fraction, and gently brush your fingertips against his forearm, letting them linger on the soft fabric of his sleeve.

“you smell really good today,” you say softly, your voice perfectly steady this time. “it’s distracting.”

you expect jay to pull back, or to laugh, or to give you another critique. instead, jay doesn't even flinch. he doesn't get nervous at all; if anything, the touch seems to ground him. his eyes track your hand on his arm, and then slowly, deliberately, he tilts his head, a devastatingly handsome, wicked grin pulling at his lips.

he doesn't break your touch. instead, he leans forward, bringing his face so close to yours that you can feel the warmth of his breath against your cheek.

“is it?” jay murmurs, his voice dropping an octave, completely turning the tables on you. “if you think my cologne is distracting, newbie… you’re never going to survive the rest of these lessons.”

your breath hitches completely. your heart thumps so hard against your ribs you’re certain he can hear it. he’s completely unbothered, completely in control, flirting back with an effortless grace that leaves you completely breathless.

“you… you cheated,” you squeak out, frantically pulling your hand back and sitting straight up, your face hot enough to fry an egg. “you’re not supposed to flirt back! you’re supposed to be jake!”

jay lets out a low, rich chuckle, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms, looking immensely pleased with himself. “jake is going to flirt back, newbie. if a girl touched him like that and gave him that compliment, he wouldn't just sit there like a log. he’s going to lean in. you need to learn how to handle the counter-attack.”

you pout, crossing your arms defensively. “you’re just showing off.”

“maybe a little,” he admits, his eyes crinkling with that playful, arrogant charm. “but you did great. seriously. the touch was perfect — light, lingering, just enough to make a guy notice. let’s try another one. this time, let’s practice the ‘laugh and lean.’ when i say something funny, you lean in, laugh naturally, and let your shoulder brush mine. let’s see if you can handle it without panicking.”

for the next hour, the room feels like a battlefield of tension and laughter. you practice over and over again. you try leaning in to whisper something “secretive” in his ear, your breath brushing against his neck, which makes jay’s jaw tighten for a brief second before he recovers with a smooth, teasing remark. you practice brushing a stray piece of lint off his shoulder, letting your fingers drag slowly down his chest.

every time you do it well, jay praises you, his voice warm and encouraging, but he never lets you get too comfortable. he always pushes back — catching your wrist gently, leaning into your space, or dropping a low, dangerous compliment right back to test your boundaries. he doesn't get flustered, but you notice that as the lesson goes on, his jokes get a little quieter, his smirks a little softer, and his dark eyes stay locked onto yours with an intensity that makes it harder and harder to remember that this is just a game.

“alright,” jay finally says, his voice a bit rough as he checks his phone. “that’s enough torturing you for one day.”

you sink back against his pillows, completely exhausted but tingling with a weird, electric energy. “i think i actually did okay today.”

“you did better than okay,” jay says, standing up and looking down at you. he reaches out, and for a second, you think he’s going to tease you again, but instead, he gently runs his thumb over the side of your cheek, a surprisingly tender gesture that makes your heart stop. “you’re a quick learner, newbie. jake won’t know what hit him.”

he pulls his hand back smoothly, leaving your skin tingling where his thumb had just been. he walks to the door, opening it with that signature, lazy smirk.

“go home, get some rest. next lesson, we’re talking about kissing mechanics. try not to lose sleep over it.”

you scramble off the bed, grabbing your bag and practically running past him into the hallway, your heart hammering a frantic rhythm as his quiet laughter follows you down the corridor.

the next monday, you’re sitting in the back row of your lecture hall, pretending to take notes on a PowerPoint about microeconomics. in reality, you’ve just been drawing mindless spirals in the margin of your notebook, your brain completely occupied by the memory of jay’s thumb brushing against your cheek.

“next lesson, we’re talking about kissing mechanics.”

the memory of his low, rough voice echoes in your head, making you shiver despite the aggressive air conditioning in the auditorium.

suddenly, a sharp elbow digs into your ribs.

“you’re doing a new thing,” yunjin whispers loudly, leaning over the shared desk. she has her laptop open, but instead of notes, she has a blank word document filled with a massive, stylized question mark. “the ‘staring into the abyss like you’re trying to decode the matrix’ thing. spill. now.”

“shh,” you hiss, keeping your eyes glued to the professor. “we’re in the middle of class.”

“the professor is seventy-five and doesn’t have his hearing aids turned up, babe. talk,” yunjin demands, sliding her chair a microscopic inch closer to yours. her eyes narrow, her strawberry lip gloss catching the fluorescent lights as she tilts her head. “it’s been days. you’ve been acting weirdly quiet, you didn’t spiral once this weekend, and you’ve been practicing weirdly intense eye contact with the barista at the campus cafe. which means… the lessons started. how is jay park?”

your face immediately flares up, the heat rising rapidly from your neck to your cheeks. you grab your highlighter and aggressively color over a random definition on your paper. “it’s fine. it’s going fine.”

“‘it’s fine’ does not make a girl turn the color of a fire hydrant,” yunjin points out, a massive, predatory grin spreading across her face. she leans in so close her coconut-scented hair brushes your shoulder. “oh my god. did you guys do it? did he break his rule? did you break the no-fucking clause already? details, give me details!”

“no! oh my god, no!” you whisper-yell, frantically looking around to see if any of the athletes in the row ahead of you heard. luckily, they’re all asleep. you drop your voice to a desperate, tiny whisper. “we didn’t do anything. i told you, it’s completely theoretical. he promised.”

“okay, okay, keeping it professional. i respect it,” yunjin says, waving a dismissive hand, though her eyes are still dancing with intense curiosity. “so what exactly happens in a ‘theoretical’ sex lesson with jay park? does he use a whiteboard? powerpoint slides?”

“no,” you mumble, hiding the lower half of your face behind your hand. “he… we just sit in his dorm. he makes me practice scenarios. the first lesson was just eye contact and light teasing. he basically told me i have the flirting skills of a cartoon villain.”

yunjin bursts out into a short, choked laugh, quickly covering her mouth with her sleeve when the professor coughs. “i mean, he’s not wrong, babe. remember freshman year when you tried to wink at that guy on the club team and looked like you were having a neurological event?”

“i’m better now!” you defend yourself, your voice tight. “jay fixed it. well, he’s fixing it. we had lesson two a couple days ago.”

yunjin leans in even closer, her notebook completely forgotten. “and? what was lesson two?”

“compliments. voice tone. and… innocent touching,” you whisper, your chest tightening just thinking about it. “like, leaning in and brushing his arm. or laughing and letting our shoulders touch.”

yunjin’s jaw literally drops. she stares at you, her eyes wide. “wait. you touched jay park? the guy who usually looks like he’ll have you legally removed from his presence if you breathe his oxygen? how did he react? did he flinch?”

“no, that’s the thing,” you groan, burying your face in your notebook for a second before looking back at her miserably. “he didn't flinch at all. yunjin, he’s completely immune to me. when i gave him the compliment and touched his arm, i thought i did a really good job. i dropped my voice, i held his gaze, all of it. but then he just… he didn't even blink. he just leaned all the way into my face and flirted back. he said something like, ‘if you think my cologne is distracting, newbie, you’re never going to survive the rest of these lessons.’”

yunjin lets out a low, silent gasp, her hands flying to her mouth. “oh my god. newbie? he calls you newbie? that is so disgustingly hot, i think i’m going to throw up.”

“it’s not hot, it’s terrifying!” you whined, chewing on the cap of your pen. “he is so effortlessly in control of the room. every time i think i’m getting the hang of it, he just raises the stakes to test if i’ll panic. he spent the whole hour praising me when i did it right, but then he'd immediately counter-attack to show me how a guy would react. by the end of it, my heart was beating so hard i thought i was going to pass out.”

yunjin studies your face, her playful demeanor shifting into something a bit more analytical, a small, knowing grin tugging at the corner of her lips. “and what about jake? are you thinking about jake when you’re doing all this?”

the question catches you completely off guard. you pause, your pen hovering over the paper.

“i… yeah,” you say, though the answer feels a little delayed, a little less certain than it should be. “of course i am. the whole point of this is so i don’t ruin things with jake. i keep imagining using the tricks on him.”

“right. of course,” yunjin says softly, though the look she gives you is incredibly perceptive. she taps her chin. “so, what’s next on the syllabus, student of the year?”

you swallow hard, the bell suddenly ringing to signal the end of the lecture. you pack your laptop into your bag with slightly trembling hands, refusing to look yunjin in the eye as you mutter the final detail.

“kissing mechanics. we’re doing kissing next.”

yunjin pauses mid-stride as you both walk out into the crowded hallway, a massive, thrilled grin spreading across her face. “oh, babe. you are playing with actual fireworks. good luck surviving that one.”

-------

the next afternoon, you find yourself walking back up the stairs of the west quad. your nerves are completely fried, mostly because yunjin’s warning about "playing with fireworks" has been looping in your brain for the last twenty-four hours. kissing mechanics. the words alone make your pulse skyrocket.

when jay opens the door to room 314, he’s wearing a fitted black t-shirt and charcoal grey cargo pants. he looks you up and down, a faint, amused smile lingering on his lips. "come on in, newbie."

you step into the familiar, sandalwood-scented space and immediately drop your bag by his desk, hopping onto the edge of his bed. before he can even sit down in his usual chair, the words start spilling out of your mouth in an anxious rush.

"okay, so something happened," you blurts out, waving your hands around. "jake came up to me yesterday at the student union. he was wearing his soccer jersey and he literally leaned against my locker and told me my hair looked pretty."

jay pauses, capping his water bottle and looking at you with a raised eyebrow. "and? did you use the eye contact?"

"yes! i held his gaze for like, five whole seconds," you say proudly, leaning forward. "and then i tried to do the subtle, playful voice thing you taught me. i looked at his jersey and said, 'thanks, you don't look too bad yourself.' but jay, the second the words left my mouth, i panicked. i got so incredibly awkward. i think my shoulders went up to my ears, and i literally backed into the locker door so hard it made a loud clanging sound."

jay stares at you for a beat, and then he breaks. he covers his mouth with his hand, his shoulders shaking as a deep, breathless laugh escapes him. "you backed into a locker? newbie, please tell me you didn't."

"i did!" you groan, burying your face in his pillows. "it was terrible. but… the weird part is, it might not have ruined everything? he’s been texting me literally all day today. look."

you scramble to pull out your phone, unlocking it and flashing the screen at him. there’s a string of text messages from jake, filled with emojis and casual questions about your week.

jay steps closer, leaning down slightly to look at the screen. his eyes scan the notifications, and a low, thoughtful hum hums in his throat. he straightens back up, crossing his arms over his chest, his playful smirk turning into a highly analytical expression.

"okay, first of all, the text volume is good. he's definitely hooked," jay says, tilting his head. "but based on your little locker incident, i'm officially changing the syllabus for today."

you peek up from the pillow. "wait, what? aren't we doing kissing mechanics today?"

"absolutely not," jay says smoothly, a wicked, completely teasing grin spreading across his sharp features. "no offense, newbie, but if you're still crashing into structural steel because a guy complimented your hair, you are legally not ready for the kissing lesson. you'd probably faint on him."

"hey!" you protest, sitting straight up and kicking your legs out, though you can't help the blush spreading across your face. "i was just caught off guard!"

"exactly. which is why we need to build your confidence up through texts and pictures first," jay says, walking over to his closet and leaning his shoulder against the frame. "given how much he's texting you right now, it’s the perfect opportunity. so, lesson three: how to dress sexier, body language upkeep, and sending suggestive texts and photos."

your jaw drops. "photos? like… selfies?"

"relax, i don't mean nudes," jay scoffs playfully, rolling his eyes. "i mean the kind of photos that make a guy stare at his phone for ten minutes straight. subtle hints. showing off your collarbone, an arched back, a casual half-smile. the kind of stuff that says 'i'm not trying,' even though you absolutely are."

he walks over to your bag and picks it up, tossing it onto the bed next to you. "dump it out. let’s see what clothes you brought today, and then we're going to fix your text game."

for the next hour, jay takes his role entirely too seriously. he makes you stand up to practice your posture — forcing your shoulders down, teaching you how to subtly arch your back when you're sitting so your silhouette looks sharper, and showing you how to cross your legs to elongate your frame.

then comes the text interrogation. he sits right next to you on the bed, his shoulder pressing against yours, looking over your screen as you type.

"no, delete that exclamation point. it makes you sound too eager," jay commands, his thumb reaching over to tap your screen. "type this instead: 'busy right now, but i might have time for you later.' it creates mystery. it makes him want to compete for your attention."

"isn't that a little mean?" you ask, looking up at him.

"it's not mean, it's a hook," jay murmurs, his dark eyes fixed on yours from mere inches away. "trust me. watch how fast he replies."

you hit send. less than thirty seconds later, jake replies: 'what are you up to? let me know when you're free x'.

you stare at the screen in absolute shock. "oh my god. you're a wizard."

"i'm a guy. i know how our brains work," jay smirks, entirely pleased with himself. "now, let's seal the deal. we're sending a photo. stand up."

you get up, your heart doing a nervous dance as jay picks up your phone. he walks you over to the full-length mirror hanging on the back of his door, positioning you just right where the warm afternoon light hits your face.

"your sweater is too high. pull it slightly off one shoulder," jay instructs, his voice dropping into that focused, professional tone.

you hesitantly tug the knit fabric down, exposing your collarbone. jay steps behind you, looking at your reflection in the mirror. he frowns slightly, stepping closer until his chest is almost pressed against your back. he reaches out, his warm, large hands gently gripping your waist to adjust your posture, tilting your hips just a fraction.

"don't look directly at the camera like a deer in headlights," jay murmurs near your ear, his breath hot against your skin. "look slightly down, tilt your chin up. think about something that makes you feel good."

your whole body feels like it's on fire from his touch. your reflection in the mirror shows your cheeks flushed a deep pink, your eyes dark and wide. jay raises your phone, snapping a few photos. he pulls away smoothly, scrolling through the gallery before handing the phone back to you.

you look at the screen and literally gasp. the photo doesn't even look like you. it looks incredibly soft, effortless, and undeniably sexy. your collarbone stands out, your lips are slightly parted, and the flush on your cheeks looks intentional.

"send him that one," jay says, leaning back against his desk and crossing his arms, watching your reaction with an intensely satisfied smirk. "and don't add a caption. just let him suffer."

you hit send, your hands shaking. almost instantly, the typing bubbles appear from jake's contact.

they bounce up and down, then disappear, then start up again. jake is clearly panicking on the other end, deleting and rewriting his response just like you had done nights ago.

jay steps closer, leaning over your shoulder to look down at the screen. his chest gently brushes your back, the warm, clean scent of his sandalwood cologne enveloping you completely. “look at that,” he murmurs, his voice a low, vibrating rumble right next to your ear. “he’s losing his mind. i told you.”

finally, the text comes through.

jake: oh wow. you look really pretty. where are you?

you automatically start typing a reply, your fingers flying across the keyboard. i’m just hanging out at a friend’s dorm.

“stop, stop, stop,” jay says, his hand suddenly coming down over yours to physically halt your thumbs. his palms are warm and broad, completely wrapping around your hands. a jolt of electricity zaps straight up your arms. he doesn't pull away immediately; instead, he slowly guides your hands down, forcing you to lower the phone. “what did i say about theater-kid energy? you’re giving away too much information, newbie. you’re killing the mystery.”

“but he asked where i am!” you protest, looking up at him over your shoulder. your faces are incredibly close, so close you can count the dark lashes framing his piercing eyes.

jay just smiles, that slow, devastatingly confident grin that makes him look entirely too in control. he reaches out and smoothly takes the phone right out of your fingers. “he doesn’t get to know where you are. he didn't earn that yet. right now, he’s sitting in his room staring at a photo of your bare shoulder. we need to lean into that.”

he taps the screen, typing out a message with one hand while keeping his eyes locked on yours. “if he asks where you are, you don’t give him a location. you give him a tease.”

he turns the phone around to show you what he wrote.

you: somewhere you’re not. 😉

your jaw drops. “jay! that is so forward! i can't say that!”

“you didn't say it, i did. now watch,” he says, tapping send before you can grab the device back.

you watch the screen in an agony of suspense. the response from jake is almost instantaneous this time.

jake: that’s not fair. maybe i want to be there.

your breath hitches. jake has never talked to you like this before. usually, his texts are sweet, casual, and safe. jay’s little formula is completely shifting the dynamic, turning a simple crush into a high-stakes game of cat and mouse.

“see?” jay says, his tone dripping with playful smugness as he slides the phone back into your hands. he leans his hip against the edge of his desk, crossing his arms and looking down at you. “he’s chasing now. when a guy says ‘maybe i want to be there,’ he’s testing the waters. he wants to see if the door is open. so, what do you do?”

“i… i tell him he can come over?” you guess, completely out of your depth.

jay groans, tossing his head back dramatically. “no! god, newbie, you’re trying to speed-run this. if you invite him over now, you’re giving up all your power. you have to make him work for it. keep him on his toes.”

he steps back into your personal space, the playful arrogance in his eyes shifting into something focused and instructional. he grabs your chin gently between his thumb and forefinger, tilting your face up so you’re forced to look directly into his dark eyes.

“this is the suggestive texting masterclass,” jay explains softly, his thumb lightly brushing the sensitive skin of your jawline. “you always want to imply a double meaning. you want him to read your texts and wonder if you’re being totally innocent or incredibly dirty. it keeps his mind completely occupied with thoughts of you.”

he lets go of your chin, but the ghost of his touch leaves a burning trail on your skin. he points at your phone. “type this: ‘i don’t know, jake. i’m kind of a handful. not sure you could handle it.’”

your fingers are practically sweating as you type out the words exactly as he dictated. you hit send.

the typing bubbles appear immediately.

jake: try me. i’m pretty good at handling things.

you let out a soft, choked gasp, completely floored by the sheer boldness of jake's reply. your face is burning hot, your heart hammering against your ribs. you look up at jay, wide-eyed and completely breathless. “oh my god. it worked. it actually worked.”

jay doesn't look surprised at all. if anything, he’s studying your reaction with an intense, quiet curiosity. his eyes drop to your flushed cheeks, then down to your parted lips, before slowly rising back to meet your gaze. the playful, teasing smirk slowly fades from his face, replaced by a heavy, unreadable expression.

“of course it worked,” jay murmurs, his voice suddenly dropping into a low, gravelly register that vibrates straight through your chest. he steps a fraction closer, completely erasing the distance between you until your clothes are almost brushing. “you’re a beautiful girl, newbie. when you actually give a guy a green light, he’s going to run straight through it.”

the air in the dorm room becomes completely stagnant, thick with a sudden, suffocating wave of tension. jay is looking at you with an intensity that has absolutely nothing to do with jake sim. his gaze feels heavy, physical, like a hand tracing the curve of your neck. for a terrifying, thrilling second, you forget all about your phone, all about jake’s texts, and all about the rules of these lessons.

you stare up at him, your heart in your throat, completely paralyzed by how easily he can shift the gravity in the room.

jay holds your gaze for one more lingering, breathless second. then, just as quickly as it appeared, the heavy tension snaps. a lazy, familiar smirk creeps back onto his sharp features, and he steps back, breaking the spell.

“alright, lock your phone,” jay says, tapping the top of your head playfully. “that’s enough digital damage for today. leave him on read for a few hours. let him stew in his own thoughts while he waits for you to reply.”

you quickly lock your screen, nodding dumbly as you try to force your lungs to remember how to breathe normally.

“lesson three concluded,” jay says, walking over to the door and swinging it open, looking entirely unbothered by the emotional hurricane he just caused in your chest. he gives you a sharp, teasing wink. “next time, newbie… we’re finally doing kissing mechanics. don’t forget to practice your posture before then.”

-------

four days pass, and your life feels like it has been completely split into two entirely different realities.

on one side of the screen, there’s the jake sim reality. and to your absolute shock, jay’s blueprint is working flawlessly. jake has been pursuing you with a fervor that leaves you dizzy. when you see him on campus now, he doesn't just give you a sweet, friendly wave from across the quad. he actively detours to walk with you to class. when you talk, his eyes don't wander; they stay locked onto your face, and he looks at you with this intense, focused hunger that makes your stomach do backflips.

last night, he texted you out of nowhere at 11:00 p.m. just to say he saw a sweater in a store window that reminded him of the photo you sent, adding a little tongue-in-cheek comment about how he's still waiting to find out where "somewhere you're not" is.

it's everything you wanted. you're finally getting the boy you’ve been pining over since freshman orientation. you should be ecstatic. you should be texting yunjin in a flurry of capital letters and celebratory emojis.

but instead, you find yourself staring at your bedroom ceiling in the dead of night, feeling completely untethered.

the truth is a terrifying, heavy weight in your chest, and admitting it to yourself feels like standing on the edge of a cliff. because every time jake texts you, a tiny, dark voice in the back of your mind whispers that it isn’t actually your game he’s falling for. it’s jay’s. you’re just the actress reciting lines written by a boy who understands the mechanics of desire like the back of his hand.

and then there's the next lesson.

kissing mechanics.

your stomach drops into a cold abyss every time you think about it. you’re terrified. actual, physical kissing is a universe away from just holding eye contact or letting your shoulders brush during a laugh. it means jay’s hands on you. it means his face inches from yours, his lips touching yours, his sharp jawline, his heavy, low breathing. even if it’s entirely "theoretical" — even if he's just using his fingers to map out where to press or demonstrating the pacing on a pillow or explaining the biology of how a guy reacts — the mere thought of being that close to him makes your chest tighten until it hurts.

but beneath the suffocating layers of panic, there is an even darker, more humiliating truth that you barely have the courage to acknowledge in the privacy of your own head.

you were disappointed.

when you walked into room 314 a few days ago, fully braced for the kissing lesson, your heart had been pounding because you thought you were finally going to cross that terrifying physical threshold with him. and when jay had laughed, called you a newbie, and casually pushed the lesson back because you "weren't ready," a sudden, sharp pang of rejection had sliced right through you.

you had spent the rest of that afternoon acting annoyed and pouty, but deep down, your skin had been practically begging for the exact thing you claimed to be afraid of. you had wanted him to look at you and decide you were ready. you had wanted to know what his lips felt like, even if it was just a clinical demonstration.

it's a dangerous, toxic thought. jay is your tutor. he’s sunghoon’s best friend, a guy known for his selective, zero-strings-attached reputation, and he is actively helping you construct a trap to catch jake. confusing your feelings now would be absolute social suicide. it would ruin everything.

you roll onto your side, pulling your blanket tightly around your shoulders as you look at your phone. tomorrow afternoon is the day. there are no more text modules left to practice. no more posture corrections or wardrobe updates.

tomorrow, you have to look jay park in the eye and let him teach you how to kiss.

and as you close your eyes, trying to force yourself to sleep, you realize with a jolt of pure panic that you aren't sure which reality you're more afraid of anymore: the one where you finally kiss jake sim, or the one where you have to watch jay pull away from you when the lesson is over.

-------

the rain is drumming a steady rhythm against the glass of room 314 when you walk in. the afternoon light is weak, casting the dorm in a hazy, intimate shadow that immediately makes your throat feel dry. jay is sitting on the edge of his bed, his legs spread, hands loosely clasped between his knees. he’s wearing a soft, oversized gray crewneck sweater, looking entirely relaxed, while your nerves are stretched so tight they’re practically screaming.

“welcome back, newbie,” jay says, his voice softer than usual, matching the quiet hum of the rain. he tracks your movement as you set your bag down, his eyes lingering on your tense shoulders. “you look like you’re walking to the gallows.”

“i’m just… anticipating,” you mumble, sitting on the opposite end of the bed, pulling your knees to your chest.

jay watches you for a beat, a faint, understanding smile touching his lips. “right. lesson four. kissing mechanics.” he shifts, leaning back against his headboard, his expression turning professional, though his dark eyes retain that sharp, observant glint. “before we start, a reminder of the rules. we agreed on a strict blueprint. entirely theoretical. no physical interaction. i’m here to give you the breakdown so you can take it to jake. clear?”

“clear,” you say. you try to sound relieved. you try to make your voice bright and cooperative. but a small, involuntary drop in your tone betrays you, a tiny hesitation that doesn’t escape his notice. a sudden, heavy wave of disappointment washes through you, sharp and humiliating, and you hate yourself for feeling it. you should be grateful for the boundary, but your skin feels suddenly cold.

jay’s eyes narrow slightly, analyzing the split-second change in your expression, but he doesn't comment on it. instead, he clears his throat and leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

“alright. let’s break down the mechanics,” jay begins, his voice dropping into that low, gravelly register that always makes your pulse spike. “kissing isn’t just about the lips, newbie. if you just dive in, it’s clumsy. it starts with the pacing. when jake leans in, you don’t rush to meet him halfway. you let him do the work. you tilt your chin up, keep your lips slightly parted — just a fraction — and breathe out softly. it signals invitation.”

you nod, trying to memorize the words, but your brain is panicking because jay is demonstrating the head tilt himself, his sharp jawline defining itself in the dim amber light of his desk lamp.

“when the actual contact happens, you start slow,” jay continues, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that feels almost physical. “it’s a gentle pressure. one lip tucked between his. you hold it for a beat, let the warmth build, and then you shift. it’s a rhythm. you use your hands — remember lesson two? — you let your fingers rest right on the side of his neck, just below the jaw. your thumb rests on his cheekstone. it stabilizes the movement, and it drives a guy absolutely crazy because it feels grounding.”

as he speaks, jay mimics the hand placement in the air, his long, elegant fingers moving with a slow grace that makes you track them like a hawk. the air in the room is growing increasingly thick, the space between you on the mattress suddenly feeling incredibly small.

“now,” jay murmurs, his gaze dropping to your lips for a heavy, unhurried second before rising back to your eyes. “let’s practice the approach. the build-up of tension right before the lips touch is fifty percent of the kiss. if you panic there, the whole thing is ruined.”

he slides down the mattress, closing the distance between you until he’s sitting cross-legged directly in front of you. your knees are practically brushing.

“i’m going to act as if i’m going to kiss you,” jay instructs softly, his playful arrogance completely gone, replaced by a quiet, suffocating gravity. “i’m going to get close. your job is to hold eye contact, keep your breathing steady, and do not pull away. understand?”

“yes,” you whisper, your heart hammering so loudly against your ribs you’re certain he can hear it.

“look at me,” he commands gently.

you look up. jay leans in slowly.

the world outside the window completely ceases to exist. his movements are deliberate, agonizingly drawn out, giving your brain time to register every single detail. you see the dark depth of his eyes, the slight curve of his nose, the perfect, soft shape of his lips. he tilts his head to the side, a fraction of an inch, mapping out the angle perfectly.

closer. you can smell the rich, intoxicating scent of his sandalwood cologne mixed with the clean scent of his skin.

closer. his chest is almost touching yours, the warmth radiating off his body enveloping you in a heat wave. your breath catches in your throat, your lips parting automatically, exactly the way he taught you. your eyes flutter, desperately wanting to close, but you force them to stay open, locked onto his.

he stops.

his lips are barely half an inch from yours. you can feel the literal heat of his breath brushing against your skin, hovering right over your mouth. the tension in the microscopic space between you is a physical, electric current, pulling at you, begging you to lean forward just a millimeter to erase the agony of the distance. your heart is in your throat. you are completely paralyzed, drowning in the proximity of him.

jay stays perfectly still for three agonizing, breathless seconds, his gaze raking over your eyes, your nose, your trembling mouth. his jaw tightens, a sudden, fierce flash of hunger crossing his features before he forces it down.

slowly, deliberately, jay pulls back. the sudden rush of cool air between you feels like a physical shock. he sits straight up, clearing his throat, though his breathing is visibly shallower than it was five minutes ago.

“just like that,” jay says, his voice a little rough, a little strained. “you held the gaze. you didn't panic. do that with jake, and he’ll—”

the mention of jake’s name feels like a bucket of ice water, snapping something inside you. you look at jay — at his parted lips, his flushed neck, the sheer, unbothered control he’s trying to fake — and a sudden, reckless wave of desperation overrides every single rule, every single boundary, and every shred of your common sense.

and then something you would've never expected comes out of your mouth:

“jay, can you give me a practical example?”

the words hang in the air. jay freezes, his usual smirk vanishing. and for the first time since you walked into room 314, jay park looks completely caught off guard. his dark eyes widen just a fraction, his posture locking up as he stares at you in absolute silence. he stares at your face like he’s waiting for you to say you’re joking. the only sound in the room is the sound of the rain against the windowpane.

“what?” he asks, his voice a low, gravelly rasp. he tilts his head, blinking down at you like he’s entirely convinced his ears are playing tricks on him. “what did you just say, newbie?”

the sudden realization of what just tumbled out of your mouth hits you like a physical blow. your stomach plummets, and a fierce, blinding heat instantly erupts across your cheeks, burning all the way down to your neck. you instinctively try to pull your knees tighter to your chest, wanting nothing more than to shrink into a microscopic atom and disappear into the mattress.

“i… um,” you squeak out, your voice dropping to a mortified, breathless whisper. you look down at your hands, your fingers frantically twisting the fabric of your pajama pants. “i said… can you give me a practical example? like… a real one.”

jay doesn't move. he just stays cross-legged in front of you, absorbing your words. then, slowly, the shock on his face melts away. a brilliant, wicked, and entirely amused grin spreads across his sharp features. he lets out a low, rich chuckle that vibrates deep in his chest, leaning back slightly on his hands as he studies your purple face.

“wow,” jay murmurs, his tone dripping with pure, unadulterated amusement. “the quiet girl strikes again. you really are full of surprises, aren't you?”

“stop laughing at me!” you whine, hiding your face in your hands. your heart is beating so hard you can feel it in your teeth. “i’m being serious! i’m trying to be logical about this!”

“logical?” jay teases, his voice filled with a quiet, shaking laughter. he reaches out and gently, but firmly, tugs your wrists away from your face so you’re forced to look at him. he doesn't let go of your hands, keeping his fingers loosely looped around your wrists. “okay, professor. please, explain the logic to me. i’m dying to hear this.”

you swallow hard, your eyes darting everywhere but his lips. you try to summon every ounce of justification your panicked brain can manufacture.

“well… because!” you stammer, your voice incredibly shy, filled with an embarrassed pitch. “you said it yourself! you said kissing is all about the rhythm and the pacing. and— and you said if i panic during the approach, the whole thing is ruined! how am i supposed to know if i’m going to panic with jake if i haven't actually practiced the real thing? what if my timing is completely off? what if i accidentally bump teeth with him, jay? that would be traumatizing!”

jay listens to your anxious, stuttering speech, his eyes crinkling warmly at the corners. he looks incredibly smug, entirely enjoying how completely flustered you are.

“so,” jay says slowly, a lazy, teasing purr in his voice as he lightly squeezes your wrists. “let me get this straight. purely for educational purposes… for my duties as your instructor… you think we should break the non-physical clause. for the sake of science.”

“yes!” you whisper-yell, your face burning hotter, if that was even physically possible. “it’s just… a hands-on lab! like chemistry class! it makes perfect sense!”

“chemistry, huh?” jay echoes, his voice dropping an octave, the vibrant laughter in his eyes shifting into something much darker, much more intense.

he slowly releases your wrists, but he doesn't move back. instead, he slides even closer on the mattress, completely invading your personal space until the heat radiating from his body wraps around you like a blanket. the playful, mocking expression of his face softens into something dangerous.

“you’re a terrible liar, newbie,” jay murmurs, his eyes dropping to your parted lips, staring at them for a long, unhurried second before rising back to yours. “you’re not thinking about jake sim’s teeth right now. and you’re definitely not thinking about science.”

your breath hitches completely, your voice trapped in your throat.

“but…” jay whispers, his hand slowly rising to cup the side of your face, his broad palm warm against your burning cheek, his thumb gently resting right on your cheekbone — exactly where he had just described a minute ago. “if you’re really that worried about failing your practical exam… i guess your teacher is just going to have to show you how it’s done.”

jay doesn't give you a chance to think, to backtrack, or to let the embarrassment completely swallow you whole.

his fingers anchor themselves gently behind your neck, his thumb still resting right on your cheekbone, stabilizing you exactly the way he had mapped out verbally just moments before. he leans in, but there is no hesitation this time. the agonizing half-inch of space between your lips vanishes in a split second.

when his lips first touch yours, a gasp catches in your throat, and jay uses that exact fraction of a second to deepen the pressure. his lips are incredibly soft but firm, moving against yours with a practiced, devastating slow rhythm. a full-body shiver ripples through you, your hands automatically reaching out to clutch at the fabric of his soft gray sweater just to keep yourself grounded.

“breathe, newbie,” jay whispers against your mouth, his voice a low, rough vibration that sends a jolt of pure electricity straight down your spine. “don't hold your breath. follow me, don't overthink it.”

he pulls back just a millimeter, letting the cool air hit your wet lips before tilting his head to a slightly different angle and sliding right back in. it's a gentle, heavy pressure. he tucks your lower lip between his, sucking on it so softly it makes a quiet, embarrassing sound echo in the quiet dorm room. you try to copy the movement, your lips parting a little more as you attempt to match his pace.

“there you go,” jay murmurs, his hot breath fanning across your skin as he praises you mid-kiss. his hand slides from your neck down to your shoulder, his broad palm squeezing gently through your clothes. “keep your hands right there. stay relaxed. you’re doing perfect.”

he leads you flawlessly, controlling the entire gravity of the moment. every time you feel like you're about to lose your mind from the sheer intensity of it, jay slows things down, lingering in a soft, pressing rhythm that lets you catch up. your eyes have completely fluttered shut now, the darkness making the sensation of his lips, his warm hands, and the intoxicating scent of his sandalwood cologne a thousand times more overwhelming. you lose all track of time, completely drowning in the heat of his mouth, forgetting about the rain outside, forgetting about the syllabus, forgetting about everything.

when jay finally draws back, he does it slowly, his lips brushing against yours one last time before he fully breaks the contact.

the sudden loss of warmth leaves you feeling completely dazed. you slowly blink your eyes open, your chest heaving as you try to force air back into your lungs. jay is still hovering inches away from your face. his dark hair is slightly messy, his own breathing is visibly shallower, and his usually perfectly composed lips are a dark, flushed red. he’s staring down at you with a heavy, unreadable gaze that is entirely devoid of his usual playful arrogance.

for three long seconds, neither of you says a word.

then, reality comes crashing back down on you with the force of a tidal wave.

oh my god. you just kissed jay park. you practically begged him to do it. you used a fake excuse about "science" and "chemistry class" just to get him to put his hands on you.

a massive, blinding wave of mortification slaps you across the face. your cheeks explode into a furious, bright purple flush. you instantly let go of his sweater as if it had turned into white-hot iron, scrambling backward on the mattress until your back hits his headboard. you pull your knees all the way to your chest, burying your face completely in your arms, a small, choked groan escaping your throat.

“hey,” jay’s smooth voice breaks the silence, a soft, familiar chuckle bubbling up in his chest. you hear the mattress shift as he slides closer to you. “what are you hiding for? you’re the one who demanded a practical exam, professor.”

“please don’t look at me,” you whine into your knees, your voice incredibly muffled and strained with pure embarrassment. “i am going to jump out of that window. i am actually going to die right here on your bed.”

“don’t die yet, we still have to grade you,” jay teases, his tone dropping into that lazy, effortless purr. you feel his long fingers gently tap the top of your head. “come on, look up. i promise i won’t tease you too bad.”

you slowly, hesitantly lift your chin just enough to peek at him through the gap in your arms. jay is sitting right there, leaning his elbow on his knee with his chin resting in his palm, watching you with an incredibly amused, knowing grin.

“so,” jay murmurs, his dark eyes locking onto your wide, panicked ones. “how was the lesson? did it help clarify the mechanics for you?”

“i… yes,” you squeak out, your face still burning hot.

you pull your arms tighter around your legs, your heart still hammering a rushed rhythm against your ribs. you are completely, thoroughly embarrassed — more humiliated than you have ever been in your entire life. but beneath the suffocating layers of shyness, as you look at jay's slightly curved lips, you feel a terrifyingly honest truth settling deep in your chest.

you liked it. you liked it a lot. in fact, you liked it so much that the mere thought of taking these newly learned "mechanics" and using them on jake sim suddenly felt entirely, completely impossible.

-------

you keep your mouth shut. you don’t tell yunjin. in fact, you don’t tell a single living soul.

when you get back to your shared apartment that evening, yunjin is sitting on the kitchen counter eating dry cereal straight from the box, her eyes instantly narrowing into little laser beams the second the front door clicks shut. you quickly mutter something about having a massive headache from the library lights, sprint into your bedroom, and lock the door behind you. if you open your mouth, even just to breathe, you’re terrified the taste of jay’s strawberry-and-mint lip balm will somehow manifest in the air and give you away.

you spend the next two days in a state of absolute, localized hysteria.

the embarrassment is a physical weight, pressing down on your chest until you feel lightheaded. you can't stop replaying the feeling of his broad palm cradling your jaw, the specific, gravelly pitch of his voice when he whispered “breathe, newbie,” and the agonizingly soft, rhythmic pull of his lips against yours. you had loved it. you had loved it so much that just thinking about it while sitting in a Tuesday morning lecture makes your stomach do a violent, hot flip.

and that’s not even the worst part. the worst part — the thing that is currently keeping you awake at 3:00 a.m. staring at your ceiling fan — is how the lesson had actually ended.

right before you had practically bolted out of his dorm room, your face still a catastrophic shade of purple, jay had stood by the door with his hands shoved casually into his cargo pants. he had looked down at you, that slow, devastatingly handsome smirk firmly back in place, and murmured: “since you passed your practical exam with such high marks, newbie… i’ll let you call the shots for lesson five. it can be anything you want. think about it.”

anything you want.

how are you supposed to walk back into room 314 on thursday afternoon, look jay park in his incredibly symmetrical, aristocratic face, and say: 'oh, yeah, hi, remember how i said i wanted to learn for science? well, the science was great, can we please just make out for another hour?'

you can’t. you literally cannot do that. it would destroy the flimsy, pathetic shield of "educational purposes" you’ve been hiding behind. it would mean admitting that you aren't a student trying to impress jake sim anymore; it would mean admitting that jay has completely, effortlessly rewired your brain in the span of three weeks.

speaking of jake, his reality is becoming increasingly harder to navigate. he texts you a picture of a coffee cup on Wednesday morning: 'at the café near the library. wish you were somewhere i am today.'

you stare at the screen, your thumb hovering over the keyboard. a week ago, a text like that would have made you scream into your pillow. it’s exactly what you wanted. it’s a direct reference to the tease jay helped you send him. but now, looking at the letters, all you can think about is jay’s chest pressed against your back, his warm hands adjusting your waist in front of the mirror, and his low voice telling you to let him suffer.

when you reply with a simple, sweet 'awkward timing, i'm stuck in a study group! next time x', it feels like you’re writing a script for a play you’ve completely lost interest in starring in.

by thursday afternoon, your anxiety has reached a fever pitch. you change your sweater twice, eventually settling on a high-necked, oversized crewneck that offers absolutely zero skin-to-air vulnerability. you walk up the stairs of the west quad like a prisoner marching to the electric chair, your knees feeling strangely hollow.

when you reach room 314, you stand outside the heavy wooden door for a full sixty seconds, your hand raised to knock, your heart hammering a rushed rhythm against your ribs.

just be normal, you tell yourself, closing your eyes tightly. ask him to practice advanced flirting. ask him to break down how to read body language across a crowded room. do not look at his mouth. do not think about his hands.

you take one final, deep breath, brace your shoulders, and knock.

the door swings open, and jay is standing there looking entirely too comfortable in a soft cream-colored knit sweater and dark trousers. his eyes immediately lock onto yours, his gaze dropping to your high-necked crewneck before rising back to your face with a slow, knowing amusement.

“well, look who it is,” jay says, stepping back to let you into the room. the door closes behind you with a quiet, solid click that feels incredibly final. “come on in, newbie. i was starting to think you’d skipped town.”

“i wouldn’t skip town,” you mumble, keeping your eyes trained firmly on his desk as you walk past him. you sit on the very edge of his bed, your posture rigid and stiff, your hands tightly clasped in your lap.

jay doesn't sit in his desk chair this time. instead, he walks over and leans his hip against the edge of the mattress, just a couple of feet away from you. he crosses his arms, tilting his head as his sharp, observant eyes trace the tense line of your shoulders, the frantic way your fingers are twitching, and the obvious blush already coloring your cheeks.

“alright,” jay murmurs, his voice low and conversational. “lesson five. you’re calling the shots today. what’s on the agenda, professor? more chemistry labs, or are we pivoting?”

you clear your throat aggressively, trying to sound as clinical and professional as possible. “i think… i think we should practice advanced flirting. like, body language across a crowded room, or how to subtly command attention in a group conversation. i think that’s a really logical next step for jake.”

jay doesn't say anything for a long, agonizing beat. he just stands there, watching you stumble over your words. then, a slow, dangerous smile spreads across his lips, his eyes glinting with pure, unadulterated mischief. he knows you're lying. he can see right through your pathetic little shield, and he is clearly planning on playing dirty.

“advanced flirting in a crowd,” jay repeats smoothly, nodding his head as if he’s taking you completely seriously. “okay. sure. let’s practice that. but you know, advanced flirting isn’t just about looking across a room, newbie. it’s about what you do when you finally get close to someone in a crowded, loud space. when the music is too loud and you have to make them listen to only you.”

before you can even process his words, jay moves.

he slides onto the bed, shifting his weight until he is sitting directly beside you. his thigh presses flush against yours, the heavy, intoxicating warmth of his body immediately enveloping you. your breath hitches, your entire body going completely rigid as you stare straight ahead, terrified to look at him.

“let’s set the scene,” jay whispers, his voice dropping into a low, gravelly register that vibrates straight through the mattress. he leans in closer, his chest brushing against your arm. “we’re at a busy bar. the music is throwing heavy bass. jake is standing right next to you, but there are people everywhere, pushing into your space. if you just talk normally, he won't hear you. you have to close the distance.”

he leans over, his face entering your peripheral vision. you bite your lip, staring straight ahead at his closet door, your heart hammering so violently against your ribs it feels painful.

then, jay eliminates the space entirely.

he leans over your shoulder, his chest pressing firmly against your back. he tilts his head, burying his face right in the crook of your neck, just an inch away from your sensitive skin. his hot, heavy breath fans out across your jawline and the side of your neck, sending a violent, electric shiver straight down your spine. you let out a soft, helpless gasp, your fingers tightly gripping the fabric of your own sweater.

“if you want him to notice you,” jay murmurs, his lips brushing against the tiny hairs on your neck as he speaks, his voice a devastatingly hot, quiet rumble right against your ear, “you don’t shout over the noise. you lean in. right here. where it’s quiet.”

you can feel the warmth of his lips moving, the heat of his skin radiating into yours. the air in the room is completely gone, replaced by the suffocating, heavy scent of his sandalwood cologne. your mind is a chaotic, blurred mess; you can’t think about jake, you can’t think about advanced flirting, you can’t think about anything other than the agonizing friction of jay’s body pressed against yours.

“and then,” jay continues softly, his hand slowly rising to rest on the curve of your waist, his large palm squeezing gently through your thick sweater, anchoring you to him, “you tell him something confidential. something that makes him forget the entire room exists.”

he lingers there for an agonizing, breathless three seconds, his breath hot against your ear, letting the agonizing tension build until you’re practically trembling under his touch. you’re completely paralyzed, your lips parted, waiting, secretly begging for him to just turn your face and kiss you again.

instead, jay slowly draws his head back just a fraction. he doesn't move his body away, keeping his chest pressed to your back and his hand firmly on your waist, but he tilts his head so he can look at the side of your face. his eyes are dark, intense.

“but we aren't at a crowded bar, newbie,” jay whispers, his voice dropping even lower, turning into something raw and fiercely honest. his thumb rubs a slow circle into your waist. “it’s just you and me in a quiet room. and your shoulders are up to your ears because you’re lying to me.”

you swallow hard, a shaky breath escaping your lips.

jay leans in just a millimeter closer, his lips almost brushing your earlobe. “so stop playing games with me. look at me and tell me what you really want to do for lesson five.”

you swallow hard, the feel of his thumb rubbing slow, deliberate circles through the fabric of your sweater making it completely impossible to form a coherent thought. your gaze is frozen on the wrinkled blankets of his bed, your pulse hammering a rapid rhythm in your ears. jay doesn't move. he stays right there, his chest warm against your back, his breath a steady, intoxicating heat against the side of your neck, patiently waiting you out.

"i'm waiting, newbie," he murmurs, his voice a low, teasing purr that completely undoes the last shred of your resolve.

"i... i want to practice kissing again," you blurts out, the words rushing out of you in a desperate, breathless squeak.

the hand on your waist pauses for a fraction of a second. jay doesn't immediately pull back, but you can feel the slight shift in his posture, the way his jaw tightens against your hair. you quickly scramble to cover your track, the sheer embarrassment forcing your brain into overdrive as you try to construct a pathetic safety net of logic.

"because— because of the mechanics!" you stammer quickly, your voice dropping to a mortified whisper as you twist your fingers together. "the last time... i was entirely caught off guard, jay. and i felt like i was completely awful at it. i didn't know where to put my hands, and my timing was definitely off, and... and if i'm going to be ready for jake, i need to actually make sure i can do the rhythm properly without freezing up. it’s just for the lesson. for practice."

the silence that follows is thick enough to cut with a knife. for three agonizing seconds, you’re entirely convinced you’ve gone too far, that he’s going to laugh at your transparent excuse and tell you the lesson is over.

then, slowly, jay draws back.

you force yourself to turn your head, your cheeks burning a bright, furious pink as you look at him. jay is studying your face, his dark eyes incredibly heavy and focused. the playful, arrogant smirk you expected isn't there; instead, his lips are parted slightly, his gaze dropping to your mouth before rising back to meet your eyes with an intensity that makes your breath catch.

"for practice," he echoes, his voice a low, gravelly rumble that vibrates straight to your core.

"yes," you whisper.

"alright," jay murmurs, his tone shifting into something thick and serious. he slides closer, crossing his legs so he’s sitting directly in front of you, completely erasing the distance. "if we’re going to fix your rhythm, we need to do it right. look at me."

you lift your chin, your eyes locking onto his. jay doesn't hesitate this time. his large, warm hand rises, his long fingers sliding effortlessly into the hair at the back of your neck, his thumb anchoring right on your jawline to tilt your face up. he leans in, and before your brain can even register the proximity, his lips are pressing firmly against yours.

the contact is an immediate shock of heat. unlike the brief practical exam from days ago, jay doesn't start with a gentle question. he slides his lips over yours with a slow, heavy confidence, guiding your mouth to open slightly with a soft, persistent pressure.

"put your hands on my shoulders," jay whispers directly against your mouth, his breath hot and ragged as he pulls back just a millimeter to give the instruction. "don't just let them hang there. hold onto me."

your hands shake as you lift them, your fingers clutching tightly at the soft cream fabric of his knit sweater. the moment your palms make contact with his broad shoulders, jay lets out a low, approving hum deep in his throat. he tilts his head to the opposite angle, his lips sealing over yours again, deepening the kiss with a slow, agonizingly deliberate pace.

he teaches you through the movement itself. when your movements get too rushed or frantic from the sheer panic of how good it feels, jay uses the firm grip on the back of your neck to slow you down, lingering in a heavy, pressing rhythm that forces you to match his breath. his tongue lightly brushes against your bottom lip, a subtle, electrifying hint that makes a quiet, helpless sound escape your throat. jay catches the sound, his thumb stroking the sensitive skin of your jawline, pulling you closer until your chest is completely pressed against his.

the "practice kiss" begins to stretch, the boundaries of the lesson blurring until the air in the dorm room feels thick and heavy with a sudden, suffocating wave of genuine friction. it isn't just a clinical demonstration anymore. his lips are moving against yours with a raw, unhurried hunger, his breathing turning shallow and rough against your cheek. your fingers tangle deeper into the knit of his sweater, your body leaning entirely into his warmth, completely lost in the intoxicating taste of him. it’s a full-on makeout, a lingering, breathless collision that has absolutely nothing to do with jake sim.

suddenly, as if realizing exactly how far the line has been crossed, jay stiffens.

he pulls away, his hand sliding out of your hair as he abruptly breaks the contact.

the sudden loss of his warmth leaves you gasping for air, your lips tingling and flushed a deep red. you scramble back a few inches, your heart thumping violently against your ribs as reality comes crashing down on you like ice water.

the silence in the room is deafening, save for the sound of your ragged breathing. jay is sitting right in front of you, his dark hair completely messy from your fingers, his chest heaving under his sweater. he looks completely ungrounded, his eyes staring down at his own hands for a long, heavy beat before he finally forces himself to look up at you.

the atmosphere is thick with a sharp, suffocating awkwardness. both of you are completely aware that that wasn't on the syllabus.

jay clears his throat, his hand rising to rub the back of his neck as he shifts slightly on the mattress, trying desperately to summon his usual composed, unbothered demeanor.

“that was… good,” jay says, his voice rough, strained, and completely lacking its usual playful smugness. he avoids looking directly at your lips, his dark eyes focusing on your forehead instead as he slides off the bed and stands up. “your timing is… it’s fine. we’ll work on it.”

the minute those words leave jay’s mouth, the spell breaks entirely. you don't even wait for him to officially dismiss you. you practically scramble off the edge of his bed, your sneakers skidding slightly on the hardwood floor of his dorm as you snatch your tote bag from his desk chair with trembling hands.

“i— i have to go,” you stammer, your voice a high, frantic squeak that you barely recognize. you can't even look him in the eye; your gaze is glued to the door handle as you sprint toward it. “i have… a study group. and a paper. thank you for the lesson!”

you yank the door open and fling yourself out into the hallway, slamming it shut behind you before jay can even utter a response.

the walk — or rather, the hyperventilating run — back to your apartment is a blur of pure, unadulterated panic. your chest feels incredibly tight, your lungs burning as the cool evening air hits your face, but it does absolutely nothing to cool the raging fire still burning on your lips. your lips are tingling, slightly swollen, and heavy with the undeniable taste of him.

it’s for jake, you tell yourself, your fingers gripping the straps of your tote bag so tightly your knuckles turn a stark, ghostly white. it’s entirely for jake.

you turn the corner past the campus library, your breath coming in short, ragged gasps as you mentally repeat the words like a sacred mantra. the only reason i asked him to do that is because jake is going to kiss me soon. yunjin said jay is the best teacher. i just needed hands-on experience so i don’t humiliate myself when jake finally makes a move. it’s an educational baseline. that’s all it is.

but the anxious pacing of your thoughts only gets faster, louder, and more desperate.

if i didn't practice with jay, i would have frozen up with jake. jay was just correcting my rhythm. he said my timing was fine. so now, when jake kisses me, it’s going to be perfect. i’m doing this to save my future with jake. jay is just an instrument. a tutor. a textbook.

you push open the heavy glass door to your apartment building, practically taking the stairs two at a time because the elevator feels too slow, too claustrophobic for the storm currently raging inside your head.

it doesn't matter that my heart felt like it was going to explode out of my chest. it doesn't matter that i forgot how to breathe. it doesn't matter that i wanted him to keep going. you reach your front door, fumbling blindly with your keys, your hands shaking so violently that the metal clicks loudly against the lock. it’s for jake. it’s all for jake sim. it has to be.

you unlock the door and burst inside, instantly slamming it behind you and leaning your back against the wood, letting out a long, shaky exhale. the apartment is dark and quiet — yunjin isn't home yet — which is a blessing, because if she took one look at your wild eyes and bitten lips, she would know instantly that you didn't just practice advanced flirting.

you drop your bag on the floor and walk straight into the bathroom, flicking on the harsh overhead light. you lean over the sink and stare at your reflection in the mirror.

your cheeks are still flushed a deep, telltale crimson. your hair is slightly unruly where jay's fingers had tangled into it, and your lips are undeniably darker, stung red from the heavy, lingering pressure of his mouth. you look completely undone. you look like a girl who just got thoroughly made out with by jay park.

your phone suddenly buzzes in your pocket, the sharp vibration making you jump.

with a racing heart, you pull it out. a notification blocks the screen.

jake: hey! just finished soccer practice. totally random, but are you free to grab dinner tomorrow night? just the two of us? 😊

you stare at the glowing text, the emojis, the sweet, easy invitation from the boy you’ve been dreaming about for months. it’s the exact moment you’ve been working toward. the ultimate goal. the reason you embarrassed yourself, the reason you sent the photos, the reason you walked into room 314 in the first place.

you lift your eyes back to your reflection in the mirror, your thumb hovering over the screen to type out a reply.

see? you think, your mind screaming at you to believe the lie as a cold sweat breaks out across your palms. it worked. the lessons worked. everything i did today… it was all just so i could be ready for tomorrow night. with jake.

but as you finally press your thumb to the glass to type 'i'd love to', your eyes automatically drift down to your own lips, and the phantom sensation of jay's heavy, rough breathing against your skin returns with a fierce, suffocating intensity that leaves you completely breathless.

-------

the afternoon sun is hitting the windows of room 314 when you walk in, casting long, warm bars of light across the hardwood floor. it’s a sharp contrast to the stormy darkness of your last lesson, but the familiar scent of sandalwood and clean laundry still hits you the second the door opens.

jay is sitting at his desk, casually typing something on his laptop, but he looks up the moment you step inside. his dark eyes immediately track your movement as you set your tote bag down by the door. he looks entirely composed, the previous lesson's awkwardness seemingly evaporated from his demeanor, replaced by his usual calm, lazy aura.

“welcome back, newbie,” jay says smoothly, closing his laptop with a quiet click. he stands up, stretching his arms slightly before walking over to his mini-fridge. “how was the big date?”

you sit down on the edge of his mattress, pulling your knees up to your chest and wrapping your arms around them. just the mention of yesterday makes a strange swirl of emotions tighten in your stomach.

“it was… really nice,” you say softly, staring down at the pattern of his blanket. “jake was amazing. he took me to that little Italian place downtown, the one with the string lights. he paid for everything, even when i tried to argue with him. and he was just so sweet, jay. he listened to me talk about my classes, he laughed at my jokes, and he walked me all the way back to my apartment building.”

jay leans against the edge of his desk, taking a sip of water, his eyes locked onto your face. “sounds like a textbook perfect date. so why do you look like someone just kicked your puppy?”

you swallow the lump in your throat, your voice dropping to a shy, embarrassed whisper. “because… he didn't kiss me.”

jay pauses, his water bottle halfway down from his lips. a sudden, sharp curiosity flashes in his eyes. “he didn't?”

“no,” you groan, burying your face in your knees for a second before looking back up at him, completely miserable. “we stood on the porch of my building for like three whole minutes. i did the eye contact. i did the posture thing you taught me. i held his gaze, my lips were parted, i did everything right! but he just… he smiled, ruffled my hair, told me he had an amazing time, and said goodnight. i don’t get it. did i do something wrong? did he see right through me?”

jay stares at you for a beat, and then, a slow, incredibly wicked smirk begins to crawl onto his face. the intense seriousness from the end of your last lesson is gone, replaced by a wave of pure, triumphant amusement. he sets his water bottle down on the desk and steps closer to the bed.

“newbie, you didn't do anything wrong,” jay says, his voice a low, deeply satisfied rumble. “you’re just dealing with jake sim. the guy is a traditionalist. he’s old-school. he’s not going to lunges at a girl on the very first dinner date, especially not a girl he actually respects and likes as much as he clearly likes you.”

he hitches his usual desk chair over, spinning it around to sit directly in front of you, his knees inches from yours. “honestly? this is perfect for us. it means we’re officially two steps ahead of him.”

you blink, confused. “two steps ahead? what do you mean?”

“i mean,” jay says, leaning forward, his dark eyes locking onto yours with a suffocating amount of focus, “by the time he finally gets the nerve to make a real move on you, you’re not just going to know how to handle a basic kiss. you’re going to be a master. which brings us to today's actual syllabus.”

he rests his elbows on his knees, his voice dropping into that low, gravelly register that instantly sets your pulse racing. “today, we’re moving past the initial contact. we’re talking about a full-on makeout. the pacing, the breathing, how to build the physical escalation without getting overwhelmed. how to take control of the rhythm so he’s the one losing his mind, not you.”

your breath hitches completely. the memory of how your last "practice kiss" had spiraled into a lingering, breathless fog flashes through your brain, making your lips tingle instantly.

jay studies the sudden, bright pink flush spreading across your cheeks. his smile softens just a fraction, a quiet, intense gravity taking over his features. he leans in a microscopic inch closer, his eyes dropping to your mouth before rising back to yours.

“so,” jay murmurs, his voice a heavy, dangerous purr. “do you want today's lesson to be purely theoretical… or do you want a practical example, newbie?”

your heart is thumping so hard against your ribs you’re certain he can hear it. you know you should say theoretical. you know you should protect your sanity, preserve the lie that this is all just an educational game for jake. but as you look at jay — at his sharp jawline, his messy dark hair, his perfect, parted lips — the desperation from days ago takes over completely.

you don’t say a word. you just look him straight in the eye and nod your head, a tiny, submissive gesture.

“good girl,” jay whispers, the words vibrating straight down your spine.

he doesn't waste a single second. jay slides out of the chair and onto the mattress, crossing his legs right in front of you. his large, warm hand rises instantly, his long fingers sliding effortlessly into the hair at the back of your neck, his thumb anchoring firmly against your jawline to tilt your face up.

“remember the pacing,” jay murmurs right before his lips touch yours. “let me lead first.”

the instant his mouth seals over yours, the entire world outside room 314 completely vanishes. his lips are incredibly soft but heavy with a firm, demanding pressure that immediately makes a soft, helpless sigh escape your throat. jay catches the sound, his thumb gently stroking the sensitive skin of your jaw, guiding your mouth to open just a fraction more.

“breathe through your nose, newbie,” he whispers against your lips, his hot breath fanning across your skin as he shifts the angle of his head, deepening the kiss with a slow, agonizingly deliberate rhythm. “don’t rush it. follow my pace.”

you lift your hands, your fingers shaking as you clutch tightly at the soft fabric of his knit sweater, pulling yourself closer until your chest is flush against his. jay lets out a low, rough hum of approval deep in his throat at the touch, his grip on the back of your neck tightening just enough to anchor you completely.

the kiss quickly deepens, the boundaries of a simple "lesson" shattering instantly into a heavy, intoxicating fog. jay shows you how to escalate the tension; his lips move against yours with a raw, unhurried hunger, his tongue lightly tracing your bottom lip before pulling it between his teeth in a soft, agonizing tug that leaves you completely breathless.

“when the energy shifts,” jay murmurs, his voice raspy as he briefly parts from your lips to trace a line of burning kisses along your jawline, his lips hovering right over the sensitive skin beneath your ear, “you use your hands to change the dynamic. don’t just hold my sweater. slide your hands up. touch his neck.”

as if under a spell, you follow his whispered instructions. you let your hands slide up his broad chest, your fingers wrapping around the warm skin of his neck, your thumbs resting just below his sharp jawline. the physical contact makes jay let out a sharp, ragged exhale against your skin.

he pulls back just enough to look at you, his dark eyes clouded with a fierce, heavy intensity that has absolutely nothing to do with jake sim. his chest is heaving under his sweater, his lips dark and swollen.

“just like that,” jay whispers, his large hand sliding down from your neck to firmly grip your waist, pulling your hips a fraction closer to his on the mattress. “you control the distance. if he gets too frantic, you hold him right there. if you want more… you pull him back in.”

he doesn't wait for you to pull him. jay leans back down, his mouth crashing back onto yours with a sudden, overwhelming wave of passion that makes your head spin. it’s a full-on, breathless makeout, his lips parting yours completely, his thumb rubbing a slow, heavy circle into your waist through your shirt. you lose all track of time, completely drowning in the intoxicating taste of him, your fingers tangling into his dark hair as you match his pace, completely forgetting who this lesson was supposed to be for.

when jay finally draws back, it is agonizingly slow, his lips lingering against yours in three short, pressing kisses before he completely breaks the contact.

the sudden loss of his warmth leaves you shivering, your chest heaving as you desperately try to force air back into your lungs. jay stays hovering inches away, his forehead resting lightly against yours for a brief, breathless second before he slowly straightens up. his breathing is completely ungrounded, his eyes dark as he stares down at your thoroughly kissed, flushed face.

the silence in the room is suffocating, heavy with the weight of what just happened.

jay clears his throat, his hand rising to rub the back of his neck as he shifts back on the mattress, trying to force his usual lazy, unbothered smirk back onto his face — though his trembling fingers completely give him away.

“that was… the baseline,” jay says, his voice rough, strained, and entirely devoid of his usual arrogance. he looks away from your lips, his gaze tracking a stray shadow on the wall instead. “we’ll… we’ll stop there for today. your pacing is fine, newbie. jake won’t know what hit him.”

he stands up quickly, walking over to the door to open it for you, but as you scramble off the bed with a racing heart, you realize with a sudden wave of absolute panic that you don't care about jake sim's reaction at all anymore.

-------

you would be lying to yourself if you had said you hadn't been eager for more after that. you were. in fact, you started meeting jay almost every day so you could "practice" making out.

it became an unspoken, addictive routine. you didn't even wait for a scheduled thursday afternoon anymore. a quick, vague text from jay — ‘my room’s free if you want to study’ — and you would find yourself walking toward room 314 with your heart already doing double-flips inside your chest. you didn't even bring your notebooks anymore. what was the point of pretending?

with every single day that passed, the lessons started escalating little by little, the boundaries of "basic mechanics" crumbling into dust.

one afternoon, the air in his dorm room felt so suffocatingly hot that your hands grew bold. jay was guiding you through a deeper rhythm, his lips heavy and possessive against yours, when your fingers strayed from the hem of his sweater and slid up, slipping underneath the fabric. your bare palms pressed flat against the warm, solid skin of his lower back. you remember the exact way his entire body had rigidified for a split second, a low, ragged growl catching in his throat before he completely lost his composure, his lips turning frantic against yours.

another day, the lesson wasn't about the mouth at all. jay had backed you up against his closed closet door, his large hands anchoring your wrists gently against the wood above your head. “advanced escalation,” he had whispered against your skin, his voice a dangerous, gravelly rasp right before he buried his face in your neck. he had kissed his way down your jawline, his lips warm and demanding as he sucked softly on the sensitive skin right above your collarbone, leaving a faint, stinging heat that made your knees turn to literal water.

but the most shocking shift — the one that still makes your face burn a furious purple when you think about it during lectures — happened just two days ago.

jay had been sitting in the middle of his unmade bed, watching you pace around his room as you anxiously rambled on about your nerves. without a word, he had reached out, grabbed your wrist, and pulled you down. before your brain could even process the movement, jay's hands were on your waist, lifting you up and guiding you until you were completely straddling his lap, your knees resting on either side of his thighs.

your whole body had gone into a state of absolute shock, your face inches from his. but jay hadn't teased you. he had just looked up at you with those dark, fiercely intense eyes, his thumbs rubbing slow, heavy circles into your hips. “this is how you handle the proximity,” he had murmured. and then he had pulled you down by your neck.

you had kissed for a whole hour. a full, breathless, uninterrupted sixty minutes where your hands were tangled in his hair, his broad chest was crushed against yours, and his mouth was relentlessly teaching you a rhythm that made your entire soul ache. your body had fit perfectly against his, the heat between you completely consuming the small room. and you had enjoyed every single, agonizing second of it.

still, despite the bare skin, the bruised lips, and the sheer intimacy of sitting on his lap, you kept trying to convince yourself it was all because of jake.

every night, when you lay awake in your own bed staring at the ceiling, you forced yourself to repeat the old script. it’s not because of jay. jay park has absolutely nothing to do with it. he’s just an instructor. he’s just incredibly good at what he does because he’s experienced, and i am just a good student taking advantage of a resource.

you told yourself that the violent butterflies in your stomach, the way your hands shook whenever you touched his skin, and the desperate hunger you felt every time he leaned in were all just a biological reaction. you were just enjoying the physical sensation of making out because, in the back of your mind, you were projecting. you were simply thinking about doing all of these things with jake sim. jay was just the proxy, the placeholder, the mannequin you were using to perfect your technique so that when the time finally came, you would drive jake absolutely crazy.

or at least… that’s what you said to yourself.

-------

you keep your mouth shut, maintaining the absolute lockdown on your secret. whenever yunjin asks how the lessons are going, you look her straight in the eye and lie through your teeth, insisting it’s all strictly theoretical. you tell her jay is just drawing diagrams and explaining body language, all while your lips are still practically stinging from being thoroughly devoured by him just an hour prior.

in the meantime, you keep hanging out with jake. he takes you to get ice cream, he walks you to class, and he remains the perfect, sweet gentleman. but whenever he holds your hand or leans in to give you a polite, fleeting peck on the cheek, a bizarre, hollow sensation settles in your chest. you keep expecting the earth to move, expecting to feel that white-hot, electric current that roars through your veins every time you walk into room 314. but it never comes. you’re just building up to it, you tell yourself desperately. the real spark will happen later. jay is just priming you.

and then comes today's lesson.

the afternoon sun is completely blocked out by the heavy curtains jay drew across his window, plunging the dorm room into a dark, suffocatingly intimate haze. you’re sitting directly on his lap, your legs straddling his thighs. the friction between your bodies is a living, breathing thing. you've grown bold over the past week; your hands are slipped entirely beneath his oversized tee, your palms pressed flat against the hot, defined muscles of his chest. your hips shift instinctively, a slow, heavy grind against his lap as you chase the friction, your mouth moving against his in a deep, wet rhythm that leaves you both completely breathledd.

jay lets out a sharp, ragged groan directly into your mouth. his hands, which had been anchoring your hips, suddenly tighten with a bruising force. he abruptly pulls his head back, his breathing incredibly shallow and heavy as he forces you to stop moving.

his dark hair is completely unruly, his lips a dark, swollen crimson. he looks up at you, his eyes clouded with a raw, fierce hunger that makes your stomach do a violent flip.

“jesus, newbie,” jay rasps, his chest heaving under his shirt as his hands steady your trembling waist. he takes a long, ragged breath, his voice dropping into an incredibly low, gravelly register. “hold on. stop moving for a second.”

you blink down at him, dazed, your heart hammering against your ribs. “what? did i… did i do it wrong?”

jay lets out a low, breathless chuckle, though his jaw remains incredibly tight. “no. you didn't do it wrong. that’s the problem. the way you move…” he pauses, his intense gaze raking over your flushed face, tracking the absolute innocence in your wide eyes. a sudden, heavy curiosity settles over his features. “have you actually ever done anything sexual before this? like, at all?”

the question hits you like a bucket of ice water. a fierce, blinding wave of mortification instantly erupts across your cheeks. you instinctively try to shift off his lap, but his grip on your waist tightens, keeping you anchored right there against his heat.

“no,” you squeak out, your voice dropping to an incredibly shy, embarrassed whisper. you look down at his collarbone, unable to hold his gaze. “i haven't. i’ve never… i’ve never done anything. i told you, i'm a total newbie.”

jay stares at you, a complex flash of emotion crossing his face — surprise, a sudden wave of protectiveness, and a trace of possessiveness that he quickly tries to mask. he clears his throat, his thumb rubbing a slow, grounding circle into your hip.

“right,” jay murmurs, his voice softening just a fraction. “okay. well. you’re doing great for a beginner.”

you swallow hard, the frantic script in your head screaming at you to take control, to justify why you're enjoying this so much, why you’re pushing the boundaries. you look at his perfectly parted lips, then back up to his dark eyes, and a reckless, desperate thought tumbles right out of your mouth.

“jay… can you teach me about the rest of it?”

jay freezes, his hand instantly stopping its movement on your hip. “the rest of it?”

“yes,” you stammer, your voice incredibly small but filled with a panicked, stubborn determination. you force the lie out, hiding behind your golden shield. “i mean… for jake! what if things escalate on our next date? what if he wants to go further? i don’t want to be completely clueless. i want to know how to make him feel good. i need to learn how sex works. the mechanics.”

jay studies your face for a long, agonizingly silent beat. the air in the room feels impossibly thick. you can feel the sudden, intense heat radiating from his lap, a physical reminder of exactly what your grinding had done to him. but jay is a professional, and more than that, he refuses to pressure you or take advantage of the ridiculous web of lies you've spun.

slowly, deliberately, jay lifts his hands and gently guides you off his lap. the sudden loss of his warmth makes you shiver. he sits back against his headboard, pulling one knee up to his chest, his expression shifting into something clinical, serious, and entirely focused.

“alright, newbie,” jay says, his voice a low, gravelly rumble that commands your absolute attention. “if you want to talk about how to make a guy feel good, we’re keeping this strictly theoretical. understand? no hands-on for this part.”

you nod quickly, sitting cross-legged at the foot of the bed, your hands tightly clasped in your lap as your face burns hot.

“good. then let’s start with manual stimulation. handjobs,” jay begins, his tone conversational but his words dripping with a raw, explicit honesty that makes your jaw drop. “it’s not just about gripping and sliding. the anatomy is sensitive. a guy's nerves are concentrated right at the head, especially underneath, on the frenulum. if you just pull the skin up and down dry, it’s uncomfortable. you need friction control. you use lubrication, or even just saliva, and you start with a firm but gentle grip at the base.”

you feel your eyes widening, your brain frantically trying to take mental notes as he speaks. jay doesn't break eye contact; he looks straight at you, using clinical but undeniably dirty language that makes your heart thump in your throat.

“the rhythm is everything,” jay continues smoothly, his voice dropping an octave, turning into a heavy, suffocating purr. “you match his breathing. a slow, steady stroke all the way from the base to the top, and when you reach the head, you twist your thumb gently over the top. it builds the pressure. you don’t speed up until his breath catches. you pay attention to his sounds.”

“o-oh,” you squeak, your hands twisting together. “i… okay. slow rhythm. twist at the top.”

“exactly,” jay says, a faint, amused half-smile touching his lips at your absolute mortification, though his eyes remain heavy and intense. “now, if things go further… oral. blowjobs. this is where most girls panic because they think about their teeth. your teeth should never touch his skin, newbie. you keep your lips curled completely over them. like an anchor.”

you feel like you’re going to spontaneously combust. your cheeks are a catastrophic shade of purple, but you are hanging on every single syllable.

“the technique isn’t just about depth,” jay murmurs, his gaze dropping to your mouth for a heavy, unhurried second before rising back to your eyes. “it’s about suction and warmth. you use the roof of your mouth and your tongue to create a vacuum. you start slow, swirling your tongue around the head before taking him in. and the most important part? the pacing. you don’t just stay at the top; you move down to the base, using one hand to stroke the shaft while your mouth handles the rest. dual stimulation.”

he pauses, leaning forward just a fraction, his voice dropping into a whisper that sends a violent shiver straight down your spine.

“and you never, ever break eye contact,” jay whispers, his dark eyes locking onto yours with a terrifying amount of gravity. “when you’re down there, you look up at him. through your lashes. you let him see exactly what you’re doing to him. it drives a guy absolutely insane, newbie. it completely breaks his control.”

you sit there, completely paralyzed, your chest heaving as you absorb the intense, explicit breakdown. you are utterly mortified, entirely overwhelmed, and your brain is screaming at you that you are supposed to be picturing jake sim during this entire lecture.

but as you look at jay — at the way his jaw tightens, the way his low, gravelly voice sounds saying those explicit words, and the dark, possessive heat hidden deep in his eyes — you realize with a sudden wave of pure terror that jake’s face hasn't crossed your mind even once.

you sit there at the foot of his bed, your heart hammering against your ribs so violently you can hear it in your ears. the explicit details of his words are still hanging heavy in the dim, warm air of the dorm room. your hands are knotted tightly in the fabric of your sweater, your palms slick with a nervous sweat.

you look down at his lap, then back up to his dark, unhurried eyes. the golden shield of your excuse — the lie that this is all a clinical preparation for a future with jake sim — feels incredibly heavy, but it’s the only armor you have left.

"jay," you whisper, your voice cracking slightly. you swallow hard, your face burning a catastrophic shade of crimson as you force the words out. "if... if the rhythm and the grip are that specific... what if i mess it up? what if i'm too rough, or too loose? can you... can you give me another practical example?"

jay’s entire body tenses. the casual, leaning posture against his headboard locks up instantly. his eyes widen just a fraction, his gaze dropping to your trembling hands before snapping back up to look at your face. the heavy, silent tension in room 314 returns with the force of a physical blow.

"newbie," jay rasps, his voice rougher and deeper than before. he clears his throat, his knuckles whitening as his hands grip the mattress. "we said strictly theoretical for this. i'm not trying to rush you into anything."

"i'm not rushed," you lie desperately, leaning forward just a fraction, your heart in your throat. "i just... i need to know if i'm doing it right. for the baseline. please, jay."

jay stares at you for three agonizing, breathless seconds. his jaw tightens so hard you can see the muscle tick under his sharp skin. he lets out a long, slow, ragged exhale through his teeth, the restraint he’s been maintaining for weeks visibly fracturing.

"alright," jay murmurs, his tone shifting into a low, gravelly register that vibrates straight through your chest. "come here."

you move on your knees, sliding across the mattress until you're sitting right beside his thigh. your knees are trembling. jay reaches down, his fingers hooking under the hem of his dark trousers, and with a low rustle of fabric, he frees himself.

your breath catches completely. he is already thick, fully erect, and a dark, heavy flush is painting his skin. the pure, raw reality of it makes your mind go entirely blank.

"don't look away," jay commands softly, his voice remarkably steady despite the shallow rise and fall of his chest. "wrap your fingers like this."

he reaches out, his broad, warm hand wrapping around yours to guide it. he positions your fingers at the very base of his shaft, curling them in a firm, even cylinder. his skin feels smooth, white-hot, and pulsing beneath your touch.

"now, look at me," jay whispers, his face inches from yours. "stroke up. slow. all the way to the top."

you slowly move your hand upward, the physical friction sending a jolt of pure electricity straight up your arm. your heart is beating in an erratic rhythm against your ribs.

"good. just like that, newbie," jay praises you, a low, breathy rumble in his throat. his eyes crinkle slightly at the corners, a soft, encouraging look melting his usual sharp features. "now, when you hit the head... slower at the top. twist your thumb over the frenulum. exactly like i explained."

you follow his instructions perfectly, slowing the motion, your thumb dragging gently over the ultra-sensitive rim.

"oh— fuck," jay lets out a sudden, ragged groan, his eyes instantly fluttering shut as his head thumps back against the headboard. the sound is deep, unvarnished, and completely intoxicating. "yes. right there. that's perfect, sweetheart. keep that exact pace."

hearing the pet name slip past his lips makes your stomach do a violent, hot flip. you keep going, your movements becoming smoother, more confident as you fall into the heavy, dragging rhythm. you watch his face, completely fascinated by the raw power you suddenly hold over him.

but as the seconds tick by, the clinical baseline completely disintegrates. the touch is too hot, the friction too intense, and jay’s carefully constructed control begins to dangerously slip.

his breathing turns shallow and frantic, his chest heaving under his shirt. his sharp, dark brows furrow in a look that almost resembles pain. he lets out another heavy, broken groan, a sudden, involuntary jerk rippling through his lower half as his hips instinctively thrust upward against the firm pressure of your hand.

"jay," you whisper, completely captivated by the sight of him losing his mind beneath your touch.

"keep going... shit, don't stop," he swears under his breath, his voice rough and completely ungrounded. his hand flies to your wrist, not to pull you away, but to physically lock your hand in place, his fingers squeezing tightly as he takes over the pace, forcing your hand to move faster, harder against him. another ragged, breathy moan escapes his lips, his jaw clenching so tightly his veins stand out against his neck. "you're too good at this... fuck, newbie..."

the sheer, overwhelming heat of the moment fills the quiet room, the sound of his ragged breathing and the soft, slick friction of your hand filling the space between you. you are utterly drowning in him, your thumb tracing the wetness at the tip, your own breathing turning heavy as you lean into his space.

you look up through your lashes, his dark eyes snapping open to look down at you, clouded with a fierce, possessive hunger. and that’s when the old, desperate script in your head panics, trying one last time to pull you back to safety.

"is this… how i should do it for jake?" you whisper, the question slipping out before you can stop it.

jay freezes.

the pleasure on his face vanishes instantly. his hand snaps down, gripping your wrist hard enough to still you completely. his eyes open, sharp and raw.

jay stares down at you, his chest heaving, his lips parted as he absorbs the name. for a second, something painful flashes across his face — hurt, anger, and something deeper. he exhales shakily, then gently but firmly removes your hand from him. the silence that crashes into the room is suffocating.

he reaches down, gently but firmly removing your hand from his skin, and quietly covers himself back up, shifting his weight to sit back against the wall.

the sudden loss of contact leaves your hand feeling cold, your fingers tingling. the blinding wave of embarrassment returns, your cheeks exploding into a furious red flush as you realize what you just said.

“newbie…” he says quietly, voice rough. “don’t do that.”

you feel sick with embarrassment. “i’m sorry, i didn’t mean—”

but jay doesn't lash out. he doesn't tease you, and he doesn't bring up the name. instead, he just looks down at your flustered, wide-eyed face, a soft, incredibly gentle expression taking over his sharp features.

"hey," jay murmurs, his voice still low and beautifully rough from the aftereffects of the pleasure. he reaches out, his large, warm hand gently patting the top of your head, his fingers lightly smoothing down your messy hair. "don't look at me like that. you didn't do anything wrong."

you look up at him through your bangs, your heart still thumping softly. "i'm sorry. i shouldn't have..."

"it's fine," jay interrupts softly, a faint, tired but genuinely warm smile touching his lips. his hand slides down from your head to rest gently on your shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "you're a fast learner, newbie. really fast. you passed the lesson."

he sits there, his hand warm and heavy on your shoulder, his thumb rubbing a slow, comforting circle into your shirt. it’s a soft, lingering moment of aftercare that feels entirely too domestic, entirely too real for a simple tutoring session. and as you look at his gentle smile, your hand still warm from his skin, the lie about jake feels smaller and more pathetic than it ever has before.

-------

when thursday afternoon rolls around, the tension inside your chest is so thick you can barely swallow. the walk to the west quad feels different today; the golden armor of your excuses is getting heavier, cracking, but the raw curiosity burning in your veins is too loud to ignore.

when you knock on the door to room 314, jay opens it almost instantly. he’s wearing a loose, dark gray t-shirt and light gray sweatpants, his dark hair falling messy across his forehead. his eyes immediately lock onto yours, a quiet, intense gravity in his gaze that lets you know he hasn't forgotten a single second of tuesday's handjob lesson either.

"come in, newbie," jay murmurs, stepping aside.

you walk in and immediately sit cross-legged in the center of his unmade bed, your hands tucked between your knees to hide how much they’re shaking. jay closes the door, the heavy click sealing the two of you in the quiet, sandalwood-scented dimness of his room.

he doesn't sit in his desk chair. he walks straight to the edge of the mattress, standing right in front of you, looking down with his hands shoved casually into his sweatpants pockets. "alright. lesson seven. what are we breaking down today?"

you look up at him, your cheeks instantly exploding into a fierce, burning crimson. you swallow hard, your fingers twisting together as you force the words out. "i... i want to learn how to give a blowjob. you explained the theory on tuesday, but... i’ve always been curious about how the actual tongue work and depth feel. i want the practical example, jay."

jay’s entire posture locks up. his eyes darken significantly, a sudden, heavy wave of heat rolling off his body as he stares down at your flushed, determined face. he takes a slow, ragged breath through his nose, his jaw clenching tightly.

"newbie," jay rasps, his voice incredibly deep and rough. "are you absolutely sure about this? once we cross this line, there’s no turning back."

"i'm sure," you whisper, looking him straight in the eye.

jay doesn't say another word. he slowly pulls his hands out of his pockets and sits down on the edge of the bed, right in front of you. with a low, deliberate rustle of fabric, he pushes his sweatpants down, freeing his thick, fully erect length. he is already pulsing, a heavy, dark flush painting his white-hot skin.

"get down on your knees between my legs," jay commands softly, his voice remarkably patient, completely ridden of his usual mocking tone

you slide off the mattress, sinking onto your knees on the hardwood floor right between his thighs. your face is level with his lap, the raw heat of his arousal radiating against your cheeks.

"now, look at me," jay whispers, his large, warm hand rising to gently cup the back of your head, his long fingers tangling into your hair to steady you. "remember what i said. keep your lips curled completely over your teeth. let me feel your tongue first. swirl it right around the head."

you lean in, your hands hesitantly resting on the top of his firm thighs for balance. you slowly extend your tongue, dragging the wet, warm tip in a slow circle around the sensitive rim of his crown.

"oh— fuck," jay lets out a sharp, ragged gasp, his head immediately tossing back, his eyes fluttering shut as a deep shiver ripples through his lower half. his fingers tighten gently in your hair. "yes. just like that, baby. you're so warm, you feel so good."

"now, open up a little more," jay murmurs, his dark eyes snapping open to look down at you, clouded with an intense, suffocating pleasure. "take the top half in. use the roof of your mouth to create a gentle suction. don't rush the depth yet."

you part your lips, curling them firmly over your teeth as he instructed, and slowly slide your mouth over the thick, smooth head of his shaft. the sudden warmth and tightness of your mouth makes jay let out a low, broken moan deep in his chest. you pull back slightly, then slide forward again, your tongue swirling against him with every movement.

"you're doing so good, newbie," jay praises you, his voice a low, breathy rumble right above your head. his hand in your hair is incredibly sweet, gently guiding your rhythm, pacing your movements so you don’t choke. "you're so pretty looking up at me like that. god, you're perfect."

hearing him call you pretty makes a violent, hot flash of adrenaline surge through you. you grow bolder, sliding your mouth a little further down, letting your throat adapt to the thickness. you manage your breathing, taking steady, short inhales through your nose as your mouth works rhythmically against him.

the clinical nature of the lesson completely shatters. jay’s control begins to dangerously fracture under the wet, tight heat of your mouth. his breathing turns shallow and frantic, his chest heaving under his t-shirt as his hips instinctively lift, thrusting a fraction deeper into your mouth with a heavy, unvarnished desperation.

"shit, look at you," jay groans out, a ragged, completely ungrounded swear escaping his lips as his grip on your hair tightens just enough to hold you in place. his eyes are locked onto yours, blazing with a raw, possessive hunger as you look up at him through your lashes. "look at you, sucking me off so good... fuck, sweetheart, you're driving me insane."

the explicit praise sends a jolt of pure electricity straight down your spine. you wrap your right hand around the base of his shaft, sliding it up and down in sync with the heavy suction of your mouth, creating a flawless, dual stimulation that completely breaks his remaining restraint.

jay let out a deep, guttural cry, his jaw clenching so hard the veins stand out against his neck, his hips moving faster, more rapidly against your mouth as he inches closer and closer to the edge.

"hold on— hold on, baby, stop," jay suddenly rasps, his breathing completely shattered. he gently but firmly pulls your head back by your hair, his chest heaving as he draws a long, shaky breath.

you blink up at him, your lips wet and flushed a deep red, your heart thumping violently. jay stares down at your face, his eyes incredibly heavy, full of a fierce, protective softness that completely melts his sharp features.

slowly, he reaches down, his thumb gently wiping away a drop of moisture from the corner of your mouth. a faint, breathless, and incredibly tender smile on his lips.

"you're a genius, newbie," jay whispers, his voice beautifully rough as he lightly taps your cheek. "lesson concluded. you're officially too good for this campus."

-------

when you arrive for the next lesson, the atmospheric pressure inside room 314 feels entirely different. the standard conversational buffer — the casual banter about classes, the lingering ghost of a mention of jake — is completely gone. when jay opens the door, he doesn’t say his usual witty greeting. he just looks at you, his dark eyes heavy and remarkably soft, and reaches down to gently take your bag from your hand, setting it by the desk.

"hey," he murmurs, his voice dropping into that low, gravelly timbre that instantly makes your pulse flutter.

"hey," you whisper back.

he closes the door with a quiet, deliberate click, locking it before turning back to you. he’s wearing a simple black t-shirt that clings to his broad shoulders, and his hair is a little messy, falling perfectly over his forehead. he doesn't wait for you to sit on the edge of the mattress; instead, he takes your hand, his long, warm fingers sliding effortlessly between yours, and guides you to the middle of the bed.

"we've spent a lot of time breaking down what makes a guy lose his mind," jay says softly, sitting down right in front of you, his knees brushing against your thighs. his free hand reaches up, his thumb gently tracing the line of your jaw, tilting your face up so you're forced to look directly into his eyes. "but that's only half the mechanics, newbie. you need to know what feels good for you, too. you need to know how your body reacts when someone is completely focused on you."

your breath catches, a fierce, sudden heat blooming across your chest. "jay..."

"i'm going to go slow, okay?" he interrupts gently, his eyes crinkling warmly at the corners with a reassuring, incredibly tender smile. "no rushing. i'm going to teach you exactly how you're supposed to be touched."

he leans forward, his lips pressing softly against your forehead, then your temple, before trailing down to the sensitive column of your neck. a violent, delicious shiver ripples through your entire body as he kisses his way back up to your jawline, his lips warm and unhurried.

"lay down for me, sweetheart," jay whispers against your skin, his hands moving to your waist to gently guide you back onto the pillows.

you slide down, your heart hammering a frantic rhythm against your ribs as jay shifts, hovering over you, supported by his elbows on either side of your head. his gaze rakes over your flushed face, his expression so fiercely loving and sweet it makes your chest ache. he reaches down, his large, warm hand sliding under the hem of your top, his palm resting flat against the bare skin of your stomach. you let out a soft, sharp inhale at the sudden friction.

"just breathe," jay praises you, his voice a soft, comforting rumble as his fingers trail lower, gently nudging the waistband of your shorts. "let me do the work."

slowly, deliberately, he eases your clothes down, exposing the smooth skin of your thighs to the dim, warm air of the room. you instinctively try to pull your knees together, a sudden wave of shyness hitting you, but jay gently presses them apart, sliding his body between your legs to anchor you. he doesn't look away; his eyes stay locked onto yours as his fingers softly brush against the inner skin of your thigh, moving upward with agonizingly slow, light strokes.

"you are so beautiful, newbie," he murmurs, leaning down to press a deep, lingering kiss to your lips, tasting you fully before trailing his mouth down to your collarbone. "so pretty for me."

when his hand finally reaches the center of your heat, you let out a breathless, broken gasp, your fingers instantly clutching at the fabric of his t-shirt. his fingers are warm, incredibly gentle as they find the small, sensitive bundle of nerves. he starts with light, circular motions, his thumb sliding over the slick skin with a practiced, effortless rhythm.

"there you go," jay whispers against your neck, his hot breath fanning across your skin as he tracks the sudden, erratic hitch in your breathing. "feel that? that's the baseline. you just stay relaxed, let the heat build."

he introduces a single finger, sliding it slowly into your tight, wet heat. a soft, helpless moan escapes your throat, your hips instinctively lifting against his hand. jay lets out a low, rough hum of absolute approval deep in his chest, his finger moving in a slow, curling motion that targets a deep, heavy ache you didn't even know was there.

"look at me, sweetheart," he commands softly. you blink your eyes open, your vision slightly blurry from the sheer intensity of it, to find him staring down at you with an unvarnished, consuming intensity. "you're doing so good. you're so wet for me."

he continues the rhythm, his fingers moving inside you with a steady, heavy pace while his thumb keeps a relentless, agonizingly perfect pressure on your core. you feel the tension building rapidly, a hot, tight knot coiling tightly in your lower stomach. your hands tangle deep into his dark hair, pulling him closer as your breathing turns shallow and desperate.

"jay... jay," you whimpered, completely ungrounded by the overwhelming sensation.

"i've got you," he murmurs sweetly, kissing away the tears gathering at the corners of your eyes. he pulls his hand away for just a fraction of a second, making you let out a needy whine, before he shifts his body lower on the mattress.

he presses your knees open wider, his hands firmly gripping the undersides of your thighs to steady you. you look down through your lashes, your face burning a furious purple as jay leans his head down, his mouth replacing his fingers.

the first touch of his wet, warm tongue against your sensitive core makes your entire body arch off the mattress, a loud, unvarnished cry echoing through the quiet room. jay's hands tighten on your thighs, anchoring you completely as his tongue sweeps upward in long, firm strokes, applying a heavy, steady suction that sends a violent, electric current straight down your spine.

"oh my god," you sob out, your fingers desperately clutching at the bedsheets as the coiling tension inside you completely snaps.

jay doesn't stop. he works through your release, his tongue moving in a relentless, beautifully deep rhythm, drinking you in as your body trembles and shakes beneath him. he holds you steady through the intense waves, his mouth warm and unbelievably patient against your sensitive skin until the final tremors slowly begin to fade.

when he finally slides back up the mattress, his face is flushed, his dark eyes shining with a deep, triumphant softness. he pulls the blankets up over your shivering shoulders, immediately wrapping his broad arms around you and pulling your back flush against his chest in a tight, protective embrace.

he leans down, his lips pressing a soft, lingering kiss to the back of your warm neck.

"you did so perfect, newbie," jay whispers into your hair, his voice rough and beautifully thick as his large hand rests over your heart, feeling it hammer a frantic pace against his palm. "absolutely perfect."

the cool night air hits your face the moment you step out of the west quad, but it does absolutely nothing to cool the raging, white-hot fire burning beneath your skin. your limbs feel heavy, almost liquid, and every step you take on the concrete sidewalk feels strangely disconnected from reality.

the guilt catches up to you by the time you reach the campus quad. it settles into your stomach like a block of lead, heavy and suffocating.

you just had sex with jay park.

well, not full intercourse, but it was sexual. it was intimate. he touched you, he put his mouth on you, he held you through the most intense physical release of your life, and he wrapped his arms around you like you belonged to him. the raw, unvarnished memory of his wet tongue, his whispers of "sweetheart," and the protective warmth of his chest pressed against your back makes a violent shudder get to your core.

it's for jake, your brain screams, a frantic, high-pitched panic echoing in your head as you grip the straps of your tote bag until your knuckles turn white. the reason why you're doing this is for improving for jake. you're a newbie. you needed to know what a release felt like so you don't panic or freeze up when jake finally takes you to his bed. jay is just the instructor. he's a textbook. he has nothing to do with this.

but deep inside, in a dark, quiet corner of your soul that you are desperately trying to block out, you know it's a lie. you know text modules and posture corrections don't involve a guy worshiping your body until you're sobbing his name into his pillows.

still, you really try to convince yourself. you force the golden shield back into place, cementing the lie with sheer, stubborn willpower as you unlock the door to your apartment. yunjin's bedroom door is closed, the apartment blissfully dark. you tip-toe straight into your room, lock the door behind you, and collapse onto your bed without even changing out of your clothes.

the bed feels too big, too cold, and your skin is still tingling, practically begging for the touch that was just stripped away from it.

fine, you think desperately, staring up at the shadows on your ceiling. if it's for jake, prove it. fantasize about him.

your hands shake as you slide them down the denim of your shorts, slipping past the waistband to touch the lingering, hypersensitive heat between your thighs. you close your eyes tightly, forcing jake's face into your mind's eye. you picture the sweet way he ruffles your hair, the little Italian restaurant with the string lights, the gentle way he holds your hand across the table.

you start to move your fingers, replicating the exact circular rhythm jay had used on you just an hour ago. a soft, needy gasp escapes your lips into the quiet room. the heat builds rapidly, your body already primed and ready to boil over.

it's jake, you tell yourself, your breathing turning hurried as you pick up the pace. imagine jake doing this to you. imagine jake hovering over you in the dark.

you lean into the fantasy, letting the tight, coiling knot in your stomach take over. you bite your lip hard, letting your brain go insane — imagining the pretty sounds he’d make, mouth open in a slight “o” as his brows furrow, hair falling down, almost reaching that pretty nose adorned with the scar you love to feel between your—

wait.

jake doesn’t have a nose scar.

that’s jay.

your fingers freeze.

the world inside your bedroom completely grinds to a halt. you stare blankly at the dark ceiling, your hand slipping out from your shorts as if your skin had suddenly turned to ice. your heart is hammering, but it’s not from the pleasure anymore; it’s from pure, unadulterated terror.

you just pictured jay.

you were touching yourself, trying to build a future with the boy you’ve liked for months, and your brain completely bypassed him to conjure the exact, devastating image of jay park’s sharp jaw, his furrowed brows, and that tiny, pale scar cutting right across the bridge of his aristocratic nose.

a suffocating wave of reality hits you. it isn't jake. it has never been jake. not since you walked into room 314.

the next morning, the guilt is a physical sickness in your throat. you can’t look at your phone. when jake texts you a picture of a golden retriever he saw on his walk, you reply with a short, polite emoji, your stomach twisting into knots. you are entirely, completely compromised.

by monday afternoon, you know what you have to do. you can't keep going to room 314. if you walk back into that room, if you let him put his hands on your waist one more time, you will never be able to look jake sim in the eye again. you will lose the entire script.

with shaking thumbs, you open your chat with jay.

you: hey jay. i think we should stop the lessons. i think i have everything i need now. thank you for everything.

you hit send and immediately flip your phone face-down on your duvet, burying your face in your hands. you expect him to reply with his usual lazy, arrogant ‘sure thing, newbie’. you expect him to be relieved that his tutoring duties are officially over.

but three minutes later, your phone buzzes. then it buzzes again. and again.

jay: what do you mean? jay: did something happen? jay: newbie answer your phone. if i did something on thursday to make you uncomfortable you need to tell me. i told you we could go at your pace. did i pressure you?

the sheer, frantic panic in his messages makes your throat tighten. the cool, unbothered, perfectly composed jay park is completely gone, replaced by someone who sounds genuinely, deeply terrified that he hurt you.

you bite your lip, a stray tear slipping down your cheek as you type back.

you: no! no, jay, you didn't do anything wrong at all. you were perfect. it's just... things are getting serious with jake. he asked me out again this weekend. and since jake was the original purpose of the whole thing... i need to focus on him now. i have to be fair to him.

you watch the screen. the three little typing dots appear almost instantly. then they disappear. then they appear again. the silence stretching between your apartments feels agonizing.

finally, the phone buzzes one last time.

jay: right. the original purpose. jay: i get it. good luck this weekend, newbie. drive him crazy.

the text is so clinical, so brief, it feels like a physical slap. he doesn't fight it. he doesn't tease you. he just steps back into the box of the "instructor," closing the lid firmly behind him.

-------

the rest of the week passes in a gray, heavy blur. you don't go to the west quad. you take the long way around the library just so you don't have to risk seeing his tall silhouette walking past the glass windows.

friday night arrives, and you're sitting at the vanity in your bedroom, curling your hair for your second official date with jake. yunjin is leaning against your doorframe, watching you with a slight, curious frown.

"you're quiet today," yunjin notes, crossing her arms. "usually before a jake date you're bouncing off the walls. didn't your theoretical lessons with jay give you a confidence boost?"

"they did," you lie softly, your eyes fixed on your reflection. "i'm just... focused."

"well, jay's been acting weird too," yunjin shrugs, turning back toward the living room. "saw him at the student union yesterday. he looked like he hadn't slept in four days. completely tuned out."

your grip on the curling iron tightens so hard your palm aches. he's fine, you tell yourself desperately. he's jay park. he's glad to have his bed back to himself.

an hour later, you're sitting across from jake at a trendy, low-lit taco place downtown. the restaurant is loud, music bouncing off the brick walls. jake is looking at you with that sweet, boyish grin, talking animatedly about his soccer coach's ridiculous training schedule.

he's perfect. he's everything you wanted.

but as the noise of the restaurant swells, jake leans across the small wooden table, his face closing the distance to say something over the music. your brain immediately fires a memory — the heavy weight of jay's chest pressed against your back, his lips brushing the shell of your ear, his low voice whispering 'we're in a quiet room, stop playing games with me.'

"hey," jake says, his hand reaching out to lightly tap your wrist. "you there? you looked like you were a million miles away."

"i'm here," you say, forcing a bright, sweet smile onto your face. "sorry, just listening."

when the date ends, jake walks you all the way back to your apartment building. the air on the porch is cool, the dim amber light of the streetlamp casting long shadows over the brick steps. it's the exact setup from a week ago. the final act.

jake stands close, his dark eyes looking down at you with a soft, undeniable affection. he reaches out, his fingers gently tucking a stray curl behind your ear. his hand is nice. it's sweet.

"i had a really great time tonight," jake whispers, leaning in slowly.

your heart spikes, your body automatically going rigid as you realize it’s happening. this is it. the practical application. jake tilts his head, his eyes dropping to your mouth before closing as he bridges the final inch.

his lips press against yours.

it is a perfectly nice kiss. it's gentle, polite, and safe. but as jake's mouth moves against yours, your brain does absolutely nothing. there is no white-hot rush of electricity. there is no heavy, suffocating gravity pulling at your soul. your hands stay flat against your sides, entirely lacking the desperate urge to slide beneath his shirt, to grip his broad shoulders, to tangle into his hair.

jake pulls back after a few seconds, a sweet, satisfied smile on his face. "goodnight," he murmurs, ruffling your hair gently before turning to walk down the steps.

you stand on the porch in the quiet night air, staring at his retreating back. your lips feel completely cold. your skin feels entirely empty. and as you turn the key in your apartment lock, a crushing, definitive truth finally breaks through the last of your defenses.

the lessons didn't prepare you for jake sim. they ruined you for anyone who isn't jay park.

-------

you keep trying.

you really, truly do. you go on a third date with jake to an indie movie theater, and a fourth date where he cooks dinner for you at his apartment. he is everything a boyfriend should be — attentive, sweet, incredibly handsome, and completely respectful. but every time he holds your hand, your fingers feel numb. every time he leans down to kiss you goodnight on your porch, your mind is a completely flat, silent room.

there are no shivers. there is no gravelly voice whispering “breathe, newbie” against your skin. there is no heavy, intoxicating scent of sandalwood.

you are physically with jake sim, but you are entirely haunted by jay park.

you miss him. you miss him so much it feels like a physical ache in the center of your chest. you miss the arrogant, lazy smirks that you eventually learned how to kiss right off his face. you miss the way his large, warm hands felt sliding underneath your sweater. you miss the breathless, quiet aftercare where he would just stroke your hair and tell you you did perfect.

you haven't received a single text from him in two weeks. your chat history sits at the bottom of your messages, a cold, clinical reminder of "the original purpose."

then comes tuesday afternoon.

you’re sitting on the living room rug of your apartment, your knees pulled to your chest as you stare blankly at a textbook you haven't actually read a page of in thirty minutes. yunjin is sitting on the couch right behind you, painting her toenails a vibrant shade of cherry red.

the apartment is completely quiet except for the rhythmic swipe, swipe of her nail brush.

"hey," yunjin speaks up suddenly, not looking up from her pinky toe. "so, i ran into jake at the gym earlier today."

your shoulders instantly tighten. "oh. yeah?"

"yeah. he was glowing, honestly," yunjin says, finally capping the nail polish and leaning back against the cushions. she looks down at the top of your head, her sharp eyes narrowing in a familiar, hyper-observant squint. "he said things are going amazingly with you. he literally told me you're the most perfect, sweet girl he’s ever met."

you let out a tiny, hollow sound that is supposed to be a laugh, but it sounds incredibly sad. "that's... nice."

"so..." yunjin trails off, leaning forward and resting her elbows on her knees. her voice drops into a lighter, teasing tone. "come on. spill. how are the advanced lessons going? did jay's theoretical tutoring actually work? did he give you the magic playbook or what?"

at the mention of his name, something inside you completely snaps.

the two weeks of suffocating guilt, the crushing weight of the lies, the phantom feeling of jay's mouth on yours, and the sheer, exhausting misery of pretending to be happy with jake all come crashing down at once. your eyes suddenly sting with hot, angry tears, and a shaky, broken sob escapes your throat before you can even think to mask it.

yunjin freezes. her jaw practically drops to the floor as she watches your shoulders violently shake, your face burying themselves into your knees.

"wait— oh my god, hey," yunjin stammers, instantly sliding off the couch and dropping to the rug beside you. she wraps a panicked arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. "what's wrong? did jake do something? did he hurt you? i will literally fight him right now—"

"no!" you sob out, your voice muffled and thick with tears as you shake your head against your knees. "no, jake didn't do anything! jake is perfect! he's so sweet!"

"then why are you crying like someone died?" yunjin asks, completely bewildered, her hand rubbing your back in a comforting motion. "if jake is perfect, what's wrong?"

you lift your head, your face a catastrophic, tear-stained shade of purple, your chest heaving as you look at your best friend.

"it's jay," you choke out, the truth finally tearing its way out of your chest.

yunjin blinks, her eyebrows furrowing in deep confusion. "jay? jay park? what does he have to do with you crying about jake?"

"the lessons," you whisper, a fresh wave of tears spilling over your lashes. "they... they weren't theoretical, yunjin. i lied to you. i lied to everyone."

yunjin’s entire body goes completely still. her grip on your shoulder tightens as she stares at you, the dots in her highly perceptive brain suddenly trying to connect a picture she never expected to see. "what do you mean they weren't theoretical?"

"we... we did a practical lesson, a lot of them, actually," you confess, your voice cracking with pure, unadulterated embarrassment, but the relief of finally saying it out loud is a physical weight lifting off your lungs. "the first few weeks were just talking, but then... when he was telling me how to kiss someone correctly, i panicked because i thought i'd be bad at kissing jake. so i asked jay for a real example. and he kissed me."

yunjin’s eyes widen to the size of literal dinner saucers. "jay kissed you?"

"yes," you whine, covering your face with your hands. "and then it happened again. and again. and then we started meeting almost every single day. we weren't even studying anymore, yunjin. i would sit on his lap for a whole hour and we just made out on and on. and then last week... we... we did some more things, and he showed me what felt good for me, too. with his hands, and his— his mouth."

yunjin lets out a sharp, breathless gasp, her hand flying over her mouth. she looks completely, utterly flabbergasted, her jaw practically unhinged. "oh my god. oh my god. you and jay... you guys were sleeping together?"

"not all the way! but yes!" you cry out, pulling your hands away from your face, looking at her desperately. "and the whole time, i kept telling myself it was for jake. i kept saying 'oh, i'm just a newbie getting hands-on experience so i can be good for jake'. i even tried to touch myself thinking about jake afterwards, but yunjin... when i closed my eyes, all i could see was jay. i saw his face, and his hair, and his nose scar."

yunjin is staring at you like you’ve just spoken to her in a foreign language. she is completely speechless, processing the absolute bombshell you just dropped into her living room.

"so... so i stopped the lessons, everything," you whisper, your voice dropping to a broken, miserable murmur as you look down at your lap. "i texted him and told him i had to focus on jake. and he just said okay. and now i'm going on these dates with jake, and he's so nice, yunjin, he really is... but i… don't feel anything. when jake kisses me, it's just... cold. i don't want jake to touch me. i just want jay. i miss him so much it hurts, and i'm a horrible person because i used him as a textbook and now i've completely ruined everything."

you bury your face back in your hands, your shoulders shaking as you let the final wave of tears take over, waiting for yunjin to lecture you, to tell you how reckless you were, or to tell you how completely messy this entire situation is.

instead, yunjin lets out a long, slow, and incredibly deep exhale. she reaches out, gently pulling your hands away from your face, forcing you to look at her. the initial shock on her face has melted away, replaced by a look of sheer, unbelievable realization.

"my love," yunjin says slowly, her voice completely serious. "are you actually an idiot?"

you blink through your tears, sniffing. "what?"

"you think you used jay park?" yunjin asks, letting out a wild, disbelieving laugh. "are we talking about the same jay park? the guy who has half the girls on the humanities campus begging for a text back? the guy who doesn't let anyone into his personal space, let alone his dorm room?"

you wipe your eyes with the back of your sleeve, confused. "but... it was a casual thing. he was just being a good instructor..."

"oh my god, you are a literal child," yunjin groans, throwing her hands up in the air. "listen to me. jay fucking park did not give you a 'practical lesson' because he cares about your future with jake sim. he did not spend an hour letting you straddle his lap and eat his face because he’s a dedicated tutor. he did those things because he is completely, utterly obsessed with you, you absolute moron!"

the conversation with yunjin stays ringing in your ears for the rest of the week, a loud, echoing truth that makes your chest feel completely hollow. he is completely, utterly obsessed with you. you want to believe it. god, you want to believe it so bad, but the memory of his final text — ‘good luck this weekend, newbie. drive him crazy.’ — stands like a massive brick wall between you and room 314.

and then, jake texts you.

it’s not a casual, low-effort ‘grab coffee?’ or a late-night invite to watch him play soccer. he sends a long, beautifully constructed message, asking you on a proper, official date to a high-end jazz lounge downtown that requires a reservation weeks in advance. he tells you he’s been noticing your new confidence lately — the way you hold yourself, the lingering eye contact, the ease in your posture — and that he likes you. a lot. he wants to make things official.

a month ago, a text like that would have made you collapse onto your bedroom floor in pure, unadulterated ecstasy. it was the ultimate finish line. the exact gold medal you had been sweating and crying for under jay's brutal, meticulous guidance.

so, you say yes. you force yourself to put on your prettiest dress, you spend an hour doing your makeup, and you walk down the steps of your building to meet jake’s car.

the jazz lounge is beautiful. the dim, amber lighting reflects off the polished mahogany tables, the music is soft and smooth, and jake looks incredibly handsome in a dark blazer. he handles the evening perfectly. he pulls out your chair, he orders the best wine on the menu, and he looks at you with a heavy, sweet admiration that makes your cheeks warm.

"you look absolutely stunning tonight," jake murmurs, reaching across the white tablecloth to gently squeeze your fingers. "honestly, i feel like a different girl walked down the steps today. you've always been gorgeous, but lately... there's just something about you. you're so captivating."

you force a soft smile, nodding your head. "thank you, jake. that's... really sweet."

but as his fingers linger on yours, the crushing reality of the evening finally settles over you.

it’s nice. it’s objectively perfect. but it feels completely, utterly empty.

you sit there, listening to the saxophone player on the stage, and you find yourself looking at the way jake laughs. it’s a nice laugh, but it doesn't make your stomach do a violent, hot flip. you look at his hands, and you realize you don't have the slightest urge to slip your fingers beneath his cuffs. you look at his lips, and the thought of his mouth on yours doesn't make your breath catch.

and in that exact, agonizing moment, the grand illusion you've been clinging to for weeks finally shatters into a million jagged pieces.

you aren't projecting. you aren't using jay as a proxy.

you are deeply, completely, and irrevocably in love with park jay.

the realization hits you with the force of a physical blow, making your breath leave your lungs in a sharp, silent gasp. it isn't just about the mechanics or the white-hot heat of his mattress. it’s the way his dark eyes soften into a fierce, protective warmth whenever you look up at him through your lashes. it’s the patient, steady way he guides you when you panic, never pushing, always making sure you feel safe. it’s the quiet, breathless aftercare where he brushes the hair from your forehead, calling you sweetheart in a voice so thick and honest it makes your soul ache. it’s the easy, effortless way you laugh together between the heavy tension, the real, undeniable connection that you built brick by brick in that small, sandalwood-scented dorm room.

jay didn't teach you how to love jake sim. jay taught you how to love him.

"hey," jake's voice breaks through your thoughts, his brow furrowing with genuine concern as he leans in closer. "are you okay? you're really pale suddenly."

you look at jake — at his kind, sweet face — and you realize that staying here, pretending to be the girl he wants, is the cruelest thing you could possibly do to him. you can't live a lie anymore. the script is over.

"jake," you whisper, your voice trembling as you gently pull your hand back from his grip. "i'm... i'm so sorry. i can't do this."

jake blinks, completely caught off guard. "what? did i say something wrong?"

"no, you're perfect," you say, a tear finally spilling over your lashes as you grab your purse from the back of the chair. "you are absolutely wonderful, jake, i swear. but... my heart is somewhere else. it’s been somewhere else for a long time, and it’s not fair to keep dragging you into it. i’m so, so sorry."

before he can even process the words, you stand up from the table and walk — almost run — straight out of the jazz lounge, leaving the music behind you.

the moment you hit the cool night air of the sidewalk, you don't call a cab. you don't go back to your apartment to cry to yunjin. you sprint.

your heels click loudly against the concrete as you rush toward the west quad, your lungs burning, your heart hammering a desperate, terrifying rhythm against your ribs. the wind completely ruins your curled hair, and your breath comes in short, ragged gasps, but you don't care. the only thing that matters is the distance between you and room 314, and you need to eliminate it right now.

you burst through the heavy glass doors of his building, practically flying up the stairs three at a time because the elevator is too slow, too claustrophobic for the sudden, desperate panic roaring through your veins.

you reach the third floor, your chest heaving as you run down the carpeted hallway until you're standing directly in front of his heavy wooden door.

you don't wait to compose yourself. you don't brace your shoulders or try to be normal. you lift your shaking hand and knock against the wood, loudly, your whole body trembling in the quiet corridor.

the heavy wooden door swings open almost immediately, the sudden movement revealing jay standing in the entryway. he’s wearing an oversized black hoodie and matching sweatpants, his dark hair messy as if he’d been running his fingers through it repeatedly.

the second his dark eyes lock onto you, he freezes. his gaze sweeps over your ruined curls, the formal dress you’re wearing, the rapid rise and fall of your chest, and the fresh tears spilling over your cheeks.

"newbie?" jay rasps, his voice completely stripping of its usual calm, unbothered composure. he steps forward, his hands instantly coming up to hover near your shoulders, completely shocked. "what— what are you doing here? why are you crying? did something happen with jake? did he hurt you? i swear to god i'll kill—"

"i'm in love with you," you blurts out, the words tearing out of your throat in a shaky, breathless sob before he can even finish his sentence.

jay stops dead in his tracks. his hands freeze in mid-air, his jaw dropping open just a fraction as his entire body goes completely rigid. the quiet corridor feels extremely silent, the heavy weight of your words hanging in the space between you.

"i'm in love with you," you repeat, a fresh wave of hot tears blurring your vision as you look up at his face. you feel incredibly shy, completely stripped of your armor, your voice dropping to a small, trembling whisper. "i went on the date with jake. he was perfect, jay. he took me to that jazz lounge, and he held my hand, and he told me i was beautiful... but it felt completely empty. i didn't want him to touch me. i didn't want him to kiss me. because the whole time, the only person i could think about was you. i thought about how you look at me, and how safe i feel when you hold me, and... and i realized i've been lying to myself for weeks. i don't want jake. i want you. i've always wanted you."

jay stares down at you, his expression completely blank for three long, agonizing seconds. you feel a sudden, terrifying wave of panic hit your stomach, convinced you’ve just made the biggest mistake of your life.

then, jay’s shoulders start to shake.

he drops his head back, a sudden, sharp bark of laughter escaping his lips. he keeps laughing, a breathless, rough sound that makes your heart sink into your shoes. he’s laughing at me, you think completely mortified, stepping back a fraction. yunjin was wrong, he thinks i'm pathetic—

before you can even take a full step away, jay moves.

his large hands shoot forward, wrapping securely around your waist, and with one heavy, desperate pull, he yanks you forward into his dorm room. the door slams shut behind you with a loud, final click, and suddenly, you are crushed completely against his broad chest.

jay wraps his strong arms around you, burying his face deep into the crook of your neck, holding you so tight it’s almost bruising. you can feel the heavy, erratic thumping of his heart against your ribs, his whole body trembling slightly as he holds you like you’re about to disappear.

"jay?" you squeak out, your hands hesitantly coming up to clutch at the thick fabric of his black hoodie.

"i'm not laughing at you, newbie," jay murmurs against your skin, his voice thick, ragged, and completely devoid of his usual arrogance. he lets out another low, disbelieving chuckle right into your hair, his grip tightening. "i'm just... i'm in complete disbelief. i can't believe you're actually standing here saying this to me."

he slowly draws his head back, keeping his large hands firmly anchored on your waist so you can't move away. his dark eyes are incredibly heavy, looking down at your tear-stained face with a raw, consuming tenderness that completely melts your heart.

"you are such a moron," jay whispers, a soft, beautiful smile finally breaking across his sharp features. "you really thought this was all just a clinical lesson for me? you think i let you straddle my lap for a whole hour because i'm a dedicated tutor?"

you sniff, looking up at him through your lashes. "yunjin said..."

"yunjin was right," jay interrupts softly, his thumb rising to gently wipe away a stray tear from your cheek, his touch unbelievably sweet. "i’ve liked you for weeks, sweetheart. even a month, probably. do you have any idea what it was like for me to sit in that chair and listen to you ramble on about jake sim every single week? i hated it. i hated every single time his name left your mouth. i wanted to throw him across the campus every time you showed me a text from him."

you blink, your heart spiking. "then why didn't you say anything?"

"because i was terrified," jay admits honestly, his jaw clenching slightly as his dark eyes lock onto yours. "you came to me so innocent, so focused on this dream you had of being with him. i was so scared that if i told you how i felt, i would pressure you. i was scared i'd ruin your confidence, or make you feel trapped in the lessons. i didn't want to hurt your feelings. so when you texted me on monday saying you were done..."

he pauses, his breathing turning shallow as he leans his forehead lightly against yours, his hot breath fanning across your lips.

"i was resigned," he whispers, his voice dropping to a gravelly, vulnerable register. "i decided to just let you go to him. i thought, if jake makes her happy, i'll just step back and let her have her perfect boyfriend. it almost killed me, newbie. i haven't slept a full hour since monday."

hearing his confession makes your chest ache with a sudden, overwhelming wave of love. you lift your hands, your fingers tangling deep into the soft, dark hair at the back of his neck, pulling him that final, microscopic inch closer.

"you don't have to let me go," you whisper directly against his lips. "i'm right here."

"yeah," jay murmurs, his dark eyes flashing with that familiar, possessive heat right before his mouth crashes onto yours. "you're right here."

the weight of his confession still hangs in the air of his room, but the heavy emotional armor you’ve both been wearing for weeks has completely shattered. your fingers are knotted so tightly in the dark hair at the back of his neck that your knuckles ache, your body pulling flush against his broad chest until there is absolutely no space left between you.

jay doesn't give you a single second to breathe. the moment your lips touch, the familiar, intoxicating taste of him rushes over you, but this time, the desperate restraint he had been clinging to during the "lessons" is completely gone. his mouth crashes into yours with a raw, possessive hunger that makes your knees instantly turn to water. it isn't a demonstration. it isn't a baseline. it is a fierce, consuming claim that leaves you both dizzy.

"jay," you gasp against his lips, a soft, helpless sound escaping your throat as his mouth slides hungrily down your jawline, his teeth gently nipping at the sensitive skin right beneath your ear.

"i've got you," jay rasps, his voice an incredibly deep, gravelly vibration against your neck. "i've got you, sweetheart. you're not going anywhere."

his large hands slide down from your waist, his broad palms gripping the undersides of your thighs with a sudden, bruising force. with one effortless, powerful lift, jay hoists you completely off the ground. you let out a sharp gasp, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist as he carries you the three short steps over to his bed, collapsing both of you onto the unmade blankets.

the impact is soft, but the physical heat between you is instantly blinding. jay hovers directly over you, his heavy frame anchoring you to the mattress, his dark hair falling messy across his forehead as he looks down at your flushed, breathless face. his eyes are darker than you’ve ever seen them, blazing with a fierce, protective intensity that makes your heart thump wildly against your ribs.

"look at you," jay whispers, his chest heaving under his black hoodie as his thumb traces the swollen, red curve of your bottom lip. "you're actually here. in my bed. telling me you want me."

"i do," you breathe out, your hands sliding beneath the hem of his hoodie to press your bare palms flat against the warm, defined muscles of his lower back. "i want you so bad, jay."

a low, ragged growl catches in his throat at the touch of your bare skin. he leans back down, his mouth devouring yours in a deep, wet, frantic rhythm that completely shatters the last of your control. his tongue slides possessively over yours, guiding your mouth to open wider, drinking in every single soft, broken moan you make.

the physical friction escalates instantly. jay shifts his weight, his heavy hips settling right between your thighs, the thick, rigid length of his arousal pressing hard through his sweatpants directly against your core. your dress is hiked up around your waist, leaving only the thin fabric of your underwear between your bodies. instinctively, a desperate, white-hot hunger takes over your body, and your hips tilt upward, a slow, heavy grind against his lap as you chase the unbearable pressure.

"fuck," jay groans directly into your mouth, his eyes flying shut as his entire body goes completely rigid at the sudden friction. his hands move to your hips, his long fingers digging into your skin to hold you still, but the desperate, needy roll of your pelvis makes a rough, unvarnished swear escape his lips. "newbie... shit, hold on. you're going to break me."

"no," you whine, your hands slipping out from his hoodie to clutch tightly at his broad shoulders, your eyes fluttering open to look up at him through your lashes. "don't stop, jay. please. i've been thinking about this for weeks."

the admission completely breaks his remaining restraint. jay lets out a sharp, ragged exhale and lets his hips move, matching your upward tilts with a heavy, rhythmic grind of his own. the dry humping is agonizingly perfect, the thick, hard pressure of his length rubbing relentlessly against your hyper-sensitive core through the fabric of his clothes. every single slide makes your head spin, your fingers digging deep into the soft cotton of his hoodie as you arch your back off the mattress, a loud, unvarnished cry echoing through the quiet room.

"yes, just like that," jay murmurs, his voice a ragged, breathless rasp as he buries his face back in your neck, his lips pressing a trail of burning, wet kisses along your collarbone. "let me feel you. god, you're so hot, sweetheart. you feel so fucking good."

he shifts the angle of his hips, grinding harder, deeper, targeting the exact spot that makes your whole body tremble. you lose all track of time, completely drowning in the suffocating heat of his body, the rough friction between your thighs, and the intoxicating, raw intimacy of hearing him lose his mind beneath your touch. his chest is heaving violently against yours, his breathing shallow and rough as his hips thrust down in a fast, desperate rhythm that brings you both dangerously close to the edge.

"jay," you sob out, your head tossing back against the pillows, your core weeping with a desperate, heavy ache that dry humping can no longer satisfy. "jay, please. i don't want the clothes anymore. i want to feel you. really feel you."

jay stops his movement instantly. he draws back, his chest rising and falling in deep, ragged gasps as he looks down at you. his face is flushed, his eyes clouded with a fierce, overwhelming hunger, but beneath the passion, that deep, protective tenderness returns with a beautiful clarity.

"newbie," he whispers, his hands gently framing your face, his thumbs wiping away the tears from your cheeks. "are you sure? your first time... i want it to be perfect for you. i don't want to rush this."

"i'm sure," you say, your voice remarkably steady despite the anxious beating of your heart. you look straight into his dark eyes, your fingers rising to gently trace the tiny pale scar on his nose that had given the lie away. "i love you, jay. i want it to be you. teach me the rest."

a profound, heavy silence settles over the room, the raw emotion of your words melting away the last remnants of the old "lessons." this isn't an educational baseline anymore. this is a confession, a complete surrender, and jay handles it with a reverence that makes your eyes sting with happy tears.

"okay," jay whispers, his voice dropping into a soft, beautifully thick register. "okay, sweetheart."

slowly, deliberately, he sits back on his heels. his large, warm hands move to the hem of your dress, gently and carefully sliding the fabric up over your hips, your waist, and over your head, tossing it onto the floor. his eyes track the movement, his gaze raking over your exposed skin with an unvarnished, breathless admiration that makes you feel completely worshiped. he reaches down, his long fingers hooking into the sides of your underwear, easing them down your legs until you are completely bare beneath him.

"you are so beautiful," jay murmurs, his voice shaking slightly as he leans down to press a soft, lingering kiss to your bare stomach. "absolutely perfect."

he stands up briefly, pulling the black hoodie over his head and kicking his sweatpants away, revealing his broad, heavily defined chest and the thick, white-hot length of his arousal. when he slides back onto the mattress, the sheer, raw heat of his naked skin making contact with yours sends a violent shock of adrenaline through your veins.

he hovers over you again, but this time, he doesn't immediately move to progress things. he takes his time. his large, warm hand slides down your side, his palm resting flat against your hip as he gently coaxes your knees apart, sliding his body between your thighs. he leans down, his mouth sealing over yours in a slow, agonizingly sweet kiss that tastes of absolute devotion. his fingers slide down, finding the slick, dripping heat between your legs, and he uses two fingers to slowly stroke your core, priming you, making sure you are completely prepared for him.

"relax for me," jay whispers against your lips, his thumb applying a steady, heavy pressure that makes your hips instinctively lift. "i'm going to go so slow, sweetheart. if it hurts, you tell me to stop. understand?"

"i understand," you whimper, your fingers tangling into his dark hair, pulling his face down so you can kiss him again.

jay pulls his hand away, the sudden loss of contact making you let out a needy whine, but then you feel the heavy, smooth head of his shaft aligning directly against your tight, wet opening. the sheer thickness of him makes your breath hitch, your hands instantly clutching at the firm muscles of his shoulders.

"look at me," jay commands softly, his voice a low, gravelly purr.

you blink your eyes open, your vision slightly blurry from the sheer intensity of the moment, to find him staring down at you with a consuming, fierce possessiveness. his dark eyes are entirely focused on yours, locking you in place.

slowly, with an agonizingly careful, steady pressure, jay sinks his hips down.

the initial stretch is tight, a sharp, white-hot pinch of discomfort making your eyes widen as a soft, broken gasp escapes your parted lips. your body automatically tenses beneath him, your fingers digging deep into the skin of his shoulders.

instantly, jay stops. he freezes in place, only a fraction of his length inside you, his jaw clenching hard as he battles his own primal urge to thrust. a thin layer of sweat glistening on his skin, but his entire focus remains totally on your comfort.

"i know, i know," jay murmurs sweetly, his face dipping down to press a series of soft, comforting kisses to your eyelids, your burning cheeks, and the tip of your nose. "breathe through your nose, newbie. just like i taught you. let your body adapt to me."

he reaches down, his large hand finding your core again, his thumb rubbing slow, heavy circles against your sensitive skin while he stays perfectly still inside you. the steady, masterful friction slowly melts away the sharp pinch, replacing the discomfort with a deep, heavy wave of slick, throbbing heat. your muscles slowly relax, opening up around him, practically begging for the rest of his weight.

"jay," you whisper, your hips giving a tiny, tentative upward nudge. "more. please."

"good girl," jay rasps, a low, broken hum of absolute approval escaping his chest.

he shifts his hands, wrapping his long fingers securely around your waist, anchoring you to the mattress. slowly, smoothly, he pushes his hips down the rest of the way, burying his entire length deep inside your tight, wet heat. a loud, unvarnished cry tears out of your throat, your legs instinctively wrapping tightly around his waist to pull him even closer as the sheer, overwhelming fullness of him completely consumes your senses.

jay lets out a deep, guttural groan, his head burying themselves into the crook of your neck as he stays completely buried inside you for three long, breathless seconds, letting you adjust to the magnificent weight of him.

"you're so tight, sweetheart," jay whispers, his voice completely ungrounded, shaking with a raw emotion that has absolutely nothing to do with a lesson. "you feel so perfect around me. fuck. you're mine. you know that, right? you're completely mine now."

"i'm yours," you sob out, your hands sliding up his back, feeling the unsteady rhythm of his heart beneath your fingers. "i'm yours, jay."

when he finally begins to move, it is the furthest thing from the clinical, calculated pacing of before. it is slow, incredibly deep, and heavy with a fierce, possessive passion. jay draws his hips back until he is almost entirely out, making you let out a needy, panicked gasp, before sliding back in with a long, smooth stroke that drives straight to the center of your ache.

“ah— jay!” you cry out, your head tossing back against the pillows as the relentless, deep rhythm takes over the small room.

he guides you through every single movement. when your breathing gets too frantic, jay uses his grip on your waist to lift your hips slightly, slowing the pace down, lingering deep inside you until your breath catches in sync with his. his mouth is everywhere — kissing your lips, your jaw, biting softly on your neck, leaving dark, faint marks on your skin that say louder than words exactly who you belong to.

"you're doing so good for me, baby," jay praises you, his voice a heavy rumble right against your ear. his breathing is completely shattered, his chest slick with sweat as it crushes against yours with every single deep, driving thrust. "look at you. you're taking all of me so perfectly. so pretty for me, sweetheart."

the explicit, loving praises send jolts of pure electricity straight down your spine. you grow bolder, your fingers digging into his hips as you match his pace, lifting your pelvis to meet his downward thrusts, creating a flawless, sharp friction that completely breaks his remaining restraint.

the pacing quickly turns heated, the slow tenderness fracturing beneath a sudden, overwhelming wave of raw, unadulterated passion. jay's dark brows furrow in a look of pure agony, swears escaping his lips with every single heavy, pounding thrust. he moves faster, deeper, his hips crashing against yours with a bruising, desperate force that makes the entire bed shake.

"jay... jay, i'm close," you sob out, the tight, hot knot in your lower stomach coiling so tightly you can barely breathe. your fingers tangle desperately into his damp hair, pulling him down, needing his mouth on yours as your climax approaches.

jay snaps his eyes open, his dark gaze locking onto yours with a terrifying, beautiful amount of gravity. "look at me," he rasps, his hips thrusting deep, holding you completely still beneath him. "look at me when you break, sweetheart. let me see you."

you look up through your lashes, staring straight into his cloudless, fierce eyes as he delivers three fast, incredibly deep thrusts. the coiling tension inside you completely snaps, a blinding wave of pure, white-hot release crashing over your entire body. you let out a loud, broken cry, your inner muscles clamping tightly around his length in violent, pulsing spasms.

the sudden, tight friction completely breaks jay's remaining control. he lets out a deep, guttural cry against your mouth, his jaw clenching so hard the veins stand out against his neck as his hips give one final, breathless thrust, burying himself as deep as physically possible inside you as his own release hits him.

jay stays buried deep inside you for a long moment, his chest pressed flush against your back as both of you come down from the high. his lips brush lazy, open-mouthed kisses along your shoulder, like he can’t stop touching you even now.

“are you okay, pretty?” he murmurs, voice rough and low against your skin.

you nod, still catching your breath, a shy smile tugging at your lips. “more than okay.”

he hums in satisfaction and carefully pulls out, immediately rolling you over so you’re facing him. his large hand slides up your side, gentle and possessive at the same time, as he tucks you against his chest. for a while, neither of you speaks. the only sounds are your slowing heartbeats and the distant hum of campus life outside his window.

jay’s fingers trace slow circles on your bare back.

“so,” he says after a long beat, that familiar lazy grin creeping into his voice, “how do you feel now that you’ve graduated from my lessons?”

you let out a soft laugh, hiding your burning face in the crook of his neck. “i feel like an idiot.”

“yeah?” he chuckles, the sound vibrating through his chest. “took you long enough to figure it out.”

you pull back just enough to look at him, your fingers brushing the tiny scar on his nose. “why didn’t you say anything sooner? all those weeks… you just kept teaching me like it didn’t kill you every time i mentioned jake.”

jay’s expression softens. he cups your cheek, thumb stroking your skin with surprising tenderness.

“because you came to me wanting help to get another guy,” he says quietly. “i wasn’t going to be the asshole who messed with your head while you were vulnerable. even if it sucked. even if i wanted to throw my laptop across the room every time you showed me his texts.”

he leans in and kisses you slowly, deeply — nothing like the heated frenzy from earlier. this one feels like a promise.

when he pulls back, his forehead rests against yours.

“for the record,” he murmurs, smiling again, “you were never going to end up with jake. not after the first time you asked me for a ‘practical example.’ i knew it then. you were already mine.”

you groan, embarrassed but smiling. “you’re so cocky.”

“and you love it.”

you do.

jay pulls the blanket higher over your shoulders and wraps both arms around you, holding you like he’s afraid you might disappear if he lets go. his lips brush your temple.

“no more lessons,” he whispers. “no more pretending. just this. just us.”

you press a soft kiss to his collarbone, already drifting off in the warmth of his embrace.

“just us,” you echo.

as sleep starts to pull you under, you feel jay smile against your hair.

“goodnight, newbie.”

you smile sleepily.

“goodnight, professor park.”

© jongst4r, 2026

taglist: @solonenova, @neabrownn, @drowsypanther, @redessertired, @pinkdazed, @enhypenlvrsstuff, @strwberrylhs, @insignificantlillady, @vanillakirstein, @jaeynslutt, @d2iose, @gchirpy, @k13endall, @phjayyy, @unnatrual, @kookiesnkim, @kpopishgirlie, @kaejua, @ineedjaeyun, @moonchild-31, @cortised, @borderdaytwo, @wonrlls, @heartsski, @dollhoonki, @kristynaaah, @d1m-cataclysm, @bitemhoon, @wh0re4deonnu, @cutehoons02, @missoxy, @ahgasedaddz, @hoonie-luvr, @fixonfairy, @letwiiparkjay, @celeyy7

[blvnt1e]

教 teach me — p.js au 我

黑穗病 ─── "I'm not drunk enough to answer that tonight." after months of fantasizing about your best friend, he finally teaches you what real sex with him feels like.

ⳇ 𝓟 airing ╸ bff!jay x needy!f!reader

ⳇ w/c: 12.5k

㰙꯭ؚۣۙۗ㰛꯭ؚؔ 𝓦arnings: MDNI, overstimulation, unprotected sex, edging, mild ass play, rough sex, fingering, oral sex (f!rec), orgasm denial, hair holding, creampie, tipsy sex, lmk if moree

𝓡ina's note: firstofall, want to apologize bcuz i think theres a repeated part bcuz tumblr froze on me, n even though ive read it twice i cant find it and im going crazy... second... i wasn't quite sure how to write Jay's personality, n im taking a little longer with Sunoo's, so in between ig i'll do a smau asked for n if u want to request something, go ahead, headcanons or smau for u«3 reblog or life if uliked ittt

总清单之家 check my ::⠀ ⠀، ⠀ ── 𝓜asterlist 𝓗ome

You had been in love with Jay Park since the second year of high school.

It started as something quieter than a crush — a slow, warm pull every time he leaned over your desk to show you a riff on his phone, or when he'd wait for you after class with one earbud dangling, offering the other so you could listen to the same song.

He was always cool, a little sharp with his humor, but never cruel.

He remembered the small things: how you liked your coffee, the way you fiddled with your sleeves when you were nervous, the fact that you secretly wanted to learn guitar even though you were convinced your fingers were too clumsy.

Two months had passed since graduation, and the two of you had slipped into this strange new version of adulthood.

No more uniforms, no more bells dictating your day. just late nights, cheap takeout, and the growing tension that neither of you had named.

You told yourself it was just a silly, accumulation of caring over the years.

But lately it had become something heavier. needier.

Because it wasn't just his smile or the way he looked at you like he could read every thought behind your eyes.

It was the guitar lessons.

Every few nights you ended up in his room — that warm, low-lit sanctuary at the back of his aparment.

Soft golden lighting, the faint scent of his cologne mixed with wood polish and whatever bottle of wine he'd opened that evening.

He'd sit behind you on the bed or on that worn leather stool, chest brushing your back as he guided your fingers along the fretboard.

His voice would drop low when he corrected your posture, breath warm against your ear.

And every single time, you left that room wet, aching, and painfully aware of how badly you wanted more than just his hands on yours.

Tonight, that ache felt louder than usual.

The restaurant was still buzzing when you all stepped outside.

The four of you had taken over a corner table for nearly three hours — pasta plates half-empty, bottles of soju and beer scattered like evidence.

Heeseung had been the calm anchor as always, laughing deeply at Jake's ridiculous stories about his latest failed attempt at cooking.

Jake, true to form, had been loud and playful, teasing you about how red your cheeks got after your third glass.

"Alright, i'm tapping out" Heeseung said, stretching his arms above his head. he grinned at you and Jay. "you two heading back too?"

Jake slung an arm around your shoulders for a second, giving you a quick squeeze. "don't let Jay bore you to death with more guitar talk."

You laughed, the sound a little loose from the alcohol. "too late. i think i'm officially addicted."

Jay stood a step behind you, hands in the pockets of his dark jacket, watching the exchange with that trademark half-smirk.

He hadn't drunk much — maybe one beer the whole night. he never did when he knew he'd be the one making sure everyone got home safe.

"Get home safe, hyung" Jay told Heeseung, bumping fists. "Jake, stop burning your kitchen down."

Jake flipped him off playfully as he and Heeseung headed toward the main road to catch a cab. you waved until they disappeared around the corner, the streetlights catching their silhouettes.

And then it was just you and Jay.

It was barely past 9 PM, but the city had already slipped into that quieter, darker version of itself.

The restaurant sat on a side street lined with closed shops and a few scattered people hurrying home.

Neon signs flickered softly in the distance. your cheeks felt warm, the alcohol humming pleasantly in your veins, making everything feel a little softer around the edges.

Jay glanced at you, dark eyes scanning your face.

"You good?" he asked, voice low and steady. "you look a little flushed."

"I'm fine" you answered, maybe a touch too quickly.

You smiled up at him, feeling bolder than usual. "just… warm. and i don't really want to go home yet. my brothers are probably screaming at some video game right now. your place is quieter."

He raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth twitching. that familiar mix of amusement and something unreadable.

"You sure? i can drop you off. you drank more than usual tonight."

You stepped a little closer, the alcohol loosening your usual shyness. "i'm sure. i'd rather be with you."

The words came out softer than you meant them to, almost flirty. Jay's gaze lingered on you for a beat longer than normal before he nodded.

"Alright. let's go."

The walk to his place wasn't long.

Jay kept pace beside you, close enough that your shoulders brushed every few steps. he didn't say much, but he was always like that — comfortable in silence.

Every once in a while he'd glance over to make sure you were steady on your feet.

When you finally reached his apartment, you stepped into his room, the familiar warmth settled over you like a blanket.

The lighting was exactly how he liked it: soft, gold tones from the tall floor lamp in the corner.

His acoustic guitar rested on its stand beside the electric one. a half-finished bottle of red wine sat on the low wooden table next to two clean glasses.

The small leather couch had a couple of blankets thrown over it, and the walls held photos — some of the group, some of just the two of you from random outings over the years.

It smelled like him: wood, faint cologne, and that subtle hint of wine that always seemed to linger here.

Jay shrugged off his jacket and tossed it over the back of his chair.

"Sit" he said, nodding toward the couch. "i'll get you some water first. you're going to thank me tomorrow."

You dropped onto the couch, watching him move around the room with that effortless confidence.

Even after years of friendship, you never got tired of looking at him. the sharp line of his jaw, the way his black hair fell across his forehead, the casual way his shirt stretched across his shoulders.

He came back with a glass of cold water and handed it to you before pouring himself a small amount of wine.

"You're really not that drunk, are you?" you asked, teasing lightly as you sipped the water.

Jay chuckled, settling beside you on the couch. not quite touching, but close enough that you could feel the heat of his body.

"I'm sober enough to know you're tipsy" he replied, voice smooth. "and sober enough to know you get chatty when you are."

You laughed softly, pulling your legs up onto the couch.

The alcohol made your thoughts swirl — memories of all those guitar lessons mixing with the deeper, filthier ones you tried to push down.

You'd been in love with him for years.

But lately, the need had grown teeth.

It wasn't just romantic anymore.

You wanted him.

Wanted his hands on you for reasons that had nothing to do with chord positions. wanted to know what his mouth felt like. wanted to taste him.

To have his cock in your mouth, heavy and warm, to hear the way his voice would break if you took him deep.

Not anyone else's. just Jay's.

Those thoughts had been getting louder since the lessons started two months ago.

Every time his fingers covered yours on the strings, every time his chest pressed against your back and he murmured instructions against your ear… you left his room throbbing, panties ruined, fingers slipping between your legs the second you got home.

And now here you were again, in his room, a little drunk, heart racing.

"Now you're quiet" Jay observed, tilting his head. his dark eyes studied you carefully. "what's going on in that head of yours?"

You bit your lip, feeling heat rise to your cheeks that had nothing to do with the alcohol.

"Just… thinking about how long we've been friends" you said, keeping your voice light. "feels weird sometimes. like we're actual adults now."

Jay hummed in agreement, taking a slow sip of wine. "yeah. but some things don't change." he glanced at you, a small smirk playing on his lips. "you still suck at guitar."

You gasped dramatically, shoving his shoulder. he laughed — that low, rich sound you loved — and caught your wrist gently before you could pull away.

"See? still easy to mess with."

His thumb brushed over the inside of your wrist, just once. the touch sent electricity straight down your spine. you didn't pull away.

The air between you felt thicker than usual. the golden lighting cast soft shadows across his face, making him look even more unfairly handsome. you could smell his cologne again, warm and familiar.

"Jay…" you started, not even sure what you wanted to say.

He raised an eyebrow, still holding your wrist loosely.

"Yeah?"

You swallowed. the need you’d been carrying for years — the filthy, aching want — sat heavy on your tongue. but you weren't brave enough yet.

Instead, you just smiled, shy but warm, and leaned your head against his shoulder like you'd done a hundred times before.

"I'm glad you're my best friend" you whispered.

Jay was quiet for a moment. then his hand shifted, resting lightly on your knee.

"Me too" he murmured.

But his fingers stayed there, warm through the fabric of your jeans, and neither of you moved to change the subject.

The night was still young, and the tension that had been building for years felt dangerously close to spilling over.

The water helped a little, but the alcohol still buzzed warmly through your system, making your limbs feel loose and your thoughts dangerously unguarded.

You watched Jay move across the room with that effortless grace he always had. he reached for one of his guitars, and your breath caught.

He picked up the acoustic — his prized custom-made gibson Vesper.

The instrument looked beautiful under the soft café-gold lighting: dark wood with elegant black binding, sleek and modern with a vampire-inspired design he'd once explained to you in detail.

It was his baby, the one he played when he wanted something intimate and warm-toned.

"I've been working on a new melody" he said casually, settling on the stool across from the couch. his long fingers wrapped around the neck of the Vesper like it was an extension of himself. "want to hear it?"

You nodded, maybe a little too eagerly. "yeah… show me."

He strummed a few soft chords first, then launched into the short piece. just five or six seconds of a smooth, melancholic melody that shifted into something warmer, almost seductive in its simplicity.

His eyebrows furrowed slightly in concentration, lips parted just a fraction as he focused. the way his fingers moved — precise, confident, pressing and sliding along the frets — made heat pool low in your stomach.

God, you didn't even know if you actually cared about learning guitar anymore.

Was it the music? or was it just him?

The way his forearms flexed, the focused set of his jaw, the way the warm light caught on his sharp cheekbones and made his dark hair look softer.

You wanted him so badly it embarrassed you sometimes.

Especially tonight, with the alcohol making your skin feel too hot and your inhibitions paper-thin.

In your head, the thoughts were already spiraling: kneeling between his legs, taking his cock into your mouth, tasting him, hearing that low voice of his break while you sucked him deep. not just any dick. his.

Jay finished the short melody and looked up, smirking when he saw your expression.

"Not bad, right?" he asked.

"It was beautiful" you said honestly, your voice a little breathy. "i love how it sounds on the Vesper."

He stood and walked over, offering you the guitar. "you know the basics now. let's try teaching you your first real short melody. nothing too crazy."

You took the Vesper carefully, the wood warm from his hands.

On the outside, you looked focused and innocent, adjusting the strap and sitting up straighter.

"Posture." Jay reminded you.

He moved behind you on the couch, one leg on either side of your body so he could reach around. his chest pressed lightly against your back as he corrected the angle of the guitar on your lap.

One hand settled on your shoulder to straighten your back, the other sliding down to adjust your left hand on the fretboard.

His touch was warm. deliberate.

You bit your lip hard without thinking, a quiet little sound escaping as his fingers covered yours, guiding them into position. the alcohol made it impossible to hide your reaction — your cheeks burned, your thighs pressed together instinctively.

Jay paused. you could feel him smirk against the side of your head.

"Easy there" he murmured, voice low and teasing near your ear. "don't break my strings with that death grip. or is the Vesper too much for you tonight?"

You let out a shaky laugh. "shut up. i'm trying."

He didn't move away immediately. his fingers stayed over yours a second longer than necessary, then he pulled back just enough to watch but remained close.

"Go ahead. start with the first four chords i showed you last time. slow."

You tried.

Your fingers felt clumsier than usual from the drinks, but you managed to hit the notes — not fluid, not pretty, but recognizable. better than a total beginner.

The Vesper's rich tone filled the room even with your imperfect playing.

Jay hummed approvingly. "not terrible. you're improving."

Then, out of nowhere, he dropped the bomb.

"So… how was that blind date with Sunghoon a week ago?"

Your fingers slipped. a horrible, discordant twang rang out from the guitar. you winced.

"Why are you asking about that?" you said quickly, glancing over your shoulder at him.

Jay shrugged, leaning back against the couch but still watching you closely. his expression was casual, but his eyes were sharp. "just curious. Jake mentioned Sunghoon told him you two… hooked up."

The room felt suddenly warmer. you stared down at the guitar, fingers frozen on the strings.

It was true.

You'd gone on that blind date desperate to convince yourself that your insane attraction to Jay was just horniness. just lack of sex.

Sunghoon was good-looking, you'd slept with him after a couple of drinks. the sex had been… fine. mechanically okay.

But it left you emptier than before. because all you could think about during and after was Jay. how you wished it was Jay's hands, Jay's mouth.

It had only made your filthy fantasies about your best friend worse.

You tried to play it off, strumming a few awkward notes that sounded completely off-key. "Jake needs to mind his own business. why is he such a gossip?"

Jay chuckled, that low, amused sound that always sent shivers down your spine. he reached over and gently corrected your finger placement again, his touch lingering.

"Because he's Jake. and you're avoiding the question."

You huffed, the alcohol making you bolder even as embarrassment burned your face. "it happened, okay? it was… whatever. not life-changing."

Jay raised an eyebrow, clearly entertained by how flustered you were getting. "not life-changing? damn. poor Sunghoon. but ifeel like details are missing."

You shot him a look, trying to sound defensive. "i've grown up, you know. i'm not that irresponsible girl from high school who told you every dirty detail about her first time in graphic, disgusting detail anymore."

Jay laughed outright at that, leaning closer again. his breath brushed your neck.

"Oh yeah? because i remember that conversation very clearly. you did not hold back. 'it felt like a sad hot dog in a hallway' was the line that still lives rent-free in my head."

You groaned, covering your face with one hand while still awkwardly holding the guitar with the other. "i was drunk and stupid! and like… seventeen."

"You're still a little drunk tonight" he pointed out, voice teasing but softer. "and still oversharing, apparently."

The conversation hung between you, heavy with years of history. you tried to play again, but your notes kept clashing — messy, out of rhythm, completely unfocused.

Jay didn't stop you. he just watched, eyes dark and thoughtful under the warm lighting.

You sighed. "it was just an escape, Jay. i thought maybe if i… did something, it would quiet my head. but it didn't. it was okay, but… it wasn't..." you trailed off, not brave enough to finish that sentence.

It wasn't you.

Jay was quiet for a long moment. his hand came to rest on your lower back, a casual but intimate touch as he leaned in to adjust your right hand strumming position.

"You're thinking too hard" he said eventually, voice low. "that's why it sounds like the guitar is in pain."

You laughed despite yourself, the sound shaky.

Being this close to him, drunk, with his hands on you and your mind full of filthy thoughts about sucking him off right here in this room… it was torture.

The lesson continued like that for a while longer.

Jay guided you through the simple melody, patient even when your playing fell apart. every correction involved him touching you — fingers on yours, hand on your waist to fix posture, knee brushing your thigh.

Each touch sent sparks through your body.

At one point you shifted on the couch, and your thigh pressed firmly against his. you didn't move away. neither did he.

"You're really warm" he commented after a while, almost absentmindedly. "still feeling the drinks?"

"Yeah" you admitted, biting your lip again as his fingers guided yours into a new chord. "everything feels… a lot right now."

Jay hummed. his voice dropped lower. "i can tell."

The air in the room felt thicker.

And as Jay leaned in once more to correct your hand, his lips accidentally brushing the shell of your ear as he murmured instructions, you wondered how much longer you could keep pretending this was just about learning guitar.

The warmth of his breath sent a shiver racing down your spine. you froze, fingers stiffening on the frets of the Vesper.

The rich, dark wood of the guitar felt heavier in your lap now, like it knew the real reason your heart was hammering.

"I… i think i can't keep playing right now" you admitted, voice softer than you intended. the alcohol made your words feel thick on your tongue. "i'd love to, though. your Vesper sounds so beautiful. it's honestly such a pretty guitar. the tone is just… perfect."

Jay pulled back slightly, a low chuckle rumbling from his chest. that sound — God, that sound — always did dangerous things to you.

He reached around you to gently take the guitar from your hands, his fingers brushing over yours one last time.

"Yeah? she's my favorite for a reason" he said, standing up with the instrument.

He walked over to the stand and carefully placed the custom Gibson Vesper back in its spot, adjusting it with the same care he always showed his things.

You watched him move, the soft golden lighting casting gentle shadows along his shoulders and arms.

The room felt smaller now. cozier. the faint scent of wine still lingered in the air, mixing with his cologne and the wood polish from his guitars.

He turned back to you, hands sliding into the pockets of his jeans. "it's getting late anyway. past eleven already. you're pretty drunk, and i'm not letting you go home like this. you can just stay over. saves time, and your brothers are probably still up causing chaos."

You let out a bright, tipsy laugh, the kind that came out a little too loud because of the alcohol. "yeah? okay. i'd like that. a lot, actually."

Jay's smirk deepened, but there was something softer behind it. "didn't even think twice, huh?"

"Nope" you said, popping the 'p' playfully.

He walked over to the built-in closet near the back of the room and pulled out clothes. two oversized t-shirts — one black, one dark gray — and a pair of soft black pajama shorts.

He held them out to you.

'Here. you can wear these. that dress looks cute but it's not exactly sleep-friendly. too cold in here at night if you're not covered up properly."

You stood up, a little unsteady, and took the clothes from him.

Your fingers brushed his, and you felt that familiar spark again. "thanks, Jay."

Before he could say anything else, you grabbed the bundle and slipped behind the heavy cream-colored curtain that separated the small changing corner from the rest of the room.

It was something he'd put up after one too many late-night study sessions when you'd crash here.

You heard him laugh quietly on the other side.

"Drunk you is way shyer than sober you" he teased, voice warm with amusement. "usually you just strip down in front of me like i'm not even here. claiming 'we're best friends, it doesn't matter.' but the second alcohol hits… curtain time."

You fumbled with the zipper of your dress, cheeks burning. "shut up. i'm being responsible."

"Responsible" he echoed, clearly not buying it. you could hear him moving around, already changing too. "sure."

"I am!" you called back, laughing as you pulled his t-shirt over your head. it smelled like him — clean laundry, faint cologne, and that comforting warmth that always made your stomach flip.

The shorts were a little loose on your hips, but they were soft and comfortable. "i've grown up. i'm not that chaotic high school girl anymore."

You stepped out from behind the curtain, adjusting the hem of the oversized shirt. and then you stopped dead.

Jay was in the middle of pulling his own shirt on.

He already had the gray pajama shorts on, hanging low on his hips, but his torso was still bare. the warm lighting highlighted every line of muscle on his chest and abdomen — the result of casual gym sessions.

His skin looked smooth, shoulders broad, that sharp V-line disappearing into the waistband of his shorts.

You let out a soft, involuntary exhale, almost a gasp. your heart skipped hard.

Jay noticed immediately. he tugged the shirt down quickly, but not before you got a full view.

His eyebrow arched, that signature smirk returning.

"Damn. you really are wasted tonight" he said, voice low and teasing as he stepped closer. "if you want, i can tie you up so you can control yourself better. keep those wandering eyes in check."

Your brain short-circuited for a second.

Yes. God, yes. tie me up. use me. anything.

The filthy thought flashed through your mind so fast it made you dizzy. but on the outside, you just let out a nervous laugh, shoving his shoulder lightly.

"Stop it" you mumbled, still smiling. "i'm fine. perfectly fine. just… surprised you're changing in the middle of the room, that's all."

He chuckled, running a hand through his dark hair. "this is my room. and you've seen me shirtless plenty of times. at the beach last summer, remember? or when we went swimming at Sunoo's parents' pool?"

"That was different" you muttered, walking over to the couch and dropping down onto it, pulling one of the soft blankets over your legs.

Your face felt hot. the alcohol wasn't helping you hide anything.

Jay followed, sitting on the other end of the couch but turning toward you. the room felt even more intimate now — just the two of you in comfortable clothes, the golden lights dimmed slightly, the faint sound of the city outside barely audible.

"So" he said after a moment, grabbing the half-empty bottle of water and taking a sip before offering it to you. "you really didn't enjoy it with Sunghoon?"

You groaned, covering your face with both hands. "we're back to this?"

"I'm curious" he said simply. "you're my best friend. if some guy didn't treat you right or couldn't make it good for you, i need to know. i'll kick his ass if necessary."

You peeked at him through your fingers. he looked genuinely relaxed, but there was that focused intensity in his eyes again — the same one he got when he was trying to read you.

"It wasn't bad" you said slowly, lowering your hands. "he was… nice. polite. good-looking, obviously. but it just felt… mechanical. like we were both going through the motions. i thought maybe sleeping with someone would help clear my head about certain things, but it only made it worse."

Jay tilted his head. "worse how?"

You shrugged, tracing patterns on the blanket with your finger.

Your mind was still swirling with images you couldn't say out loud —his low groans filling this exact room.

"Just… confirmed some stuff" you said vaguely. "that i'm probably not built for casual stuff. my brain gets too loud."

Jay was quiet for a beat. then he shifted closer, stretching his arm along the back of the couch until his fingers lightly brushed your shoulder again.

"You've always been like that" he murmured. "even back in high school. you overthink everything. except when you're telling me way too many details about your personal life."

You laughed, the sound breathy. "i was young and stupid. and you were the only person i trusted enough to say that stuff to."

"Still am?" he asked, voice quieter now.

You met his eyes. the tension between you felt alive, humming under the surface. "yeah. still you."

The silence stretched comfortably. Jay eventually stood up. he grabbed another blanket and tossed it over you before settling back down — closer this time, so your legs were almost touching.

"Remember when we first became friends?" he asked suddenly, staring at the ceiling. "you used to sit there during lunch, pretending you weren't listening to me play. i thought you were cute. shy, but cute."

Your heart fluttered. "i had the biggest crush on you for like… two years before i even admitted it to myself."

Jay turned his head to look at you, surprise flickering across his face for a split second before that cool mask returned. "Yeah?"

"Yeah" you whispered, the alcohol making you honest. "but you were always so… you. cool. talented. out of reach. so i settled for being your best friend instead."

He didn't answer right away. instead, he reached over and gently tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. his touch lingered.

"You're not out of reach to me" he said softly.

The words hung heavy in the air. your body felt warm all over — from the drinks, from his proximity, from years of wanting.

You turned onto your side to face him better, the blanket slipping down slightly.

"Jay… can i ask you something?"

"Anything."

"Have you ever… thought about me like that? more than just a friend?"

He was quiet for a long moment, dark eyes studying your face. then he gave you that half-smirk again, the one that made your knees weak.

"I'm not drunk enough to answer that tonight."

You laughed, but there was nervous excitement bubbling inside you. "coward."

"Maybe" he said, chuckling. "or maybe i'm just responsible. one of us has to be when the other is this tipsy."

You spent the next hour talking like that — about old memories, stupid fights you had in high school, the group chats with Heeseung and Jake that always got chaotic, how weird it felt to be actual adults now.

Eventually, you both were in bed under thin blankets.

Jay's voice was low and soothing. every once in a while his hand would brush your arm, casual touches that felt anything but.

At some point you shifted, and your head ended up resting against his chest.

He didn't push you away. instead, his arm came around you, holding you loosely.

"You're warm" you mumbled sleepily, the alcohol finally catching up to you fully.

"So are you" he replied, voice barely above a whisper.

Your mind kept drifting back to filthy places even as sleep pulled at you — imagining sliding your hand under the waistband of his shorts, tasting his skin, hearing him say your name in that deep tone.

But for now, you let yourself enjoy the closeness. the safety.

Jay's fingers traced slow patterns on your back through the t-shirt.

"Get some sleep" he murmured against the top of your head. "we'll talk more in the morning. when you're sober."

You nodded, eyes already closing.

But even as you drifted off, safe in his arms in the soft golden light of his room, you knew one thing for certain:

Pretending was getting harder and harder.

You lay there for what felt like forever, curled against his side under the soft blanket, but sleep refused to come.

The alcohol had loosened your body, but your mind was wide awake, buzzing with years of suppressed feelings and the heavy warmth of Jay's arm draped loosely around you.

Every small shift of his body, every steady breath he took, made your skin prickle with awareness.

Jay wasn't sleeping either. you knew him too well — he never could fully relax until he knew you were safe and asleep. it was one of those quiet protective habits he'd had since high school.

With a soft sigh, you sat up slowly, the oversized t-shirt slipping slightly off one shoulder. you stayed close, your thigh still pressed against his.

Jay shifted beside you, propping himself up on one elbow. his dark hair was slightly messy, and his eyes scanned your face with that familiar sharpness.

"Can't sleep?" he asked quietly.

You shook your head. "too many thoughts."

He hummed in understanding but didn't push. for a moment, comfortable silence settled between you again. then you spoke, the alcohol still giving you just enough courage.

"You know… i doubt Jake would've randomly told you about Sunghoon unless you asked him first." you turned your head to look at him directly. "so why the curiosity, Jay?"

Jay let out a slow sigh, running a hand through his hair as he stared at the ceiling for a second. when he looked back at you, his expression was calm but serious.

"Because you're my best friend" he said simply. "it's my job to look out for you. to make sure no dickhead hurts you, gets your hopes up, or leaves you feeling like shit afterward. i've been doing that since we were in secondary school. nothing's changed."

You fell quiet, processing his words.

The weight of them sat heavy in your chest. his protection had always felt safe… but lately it felt like something more. something that made your stomach twist in confusing, needy ways.

Jay noticed your silence. he tilted his head slightly. "why are you thinking about all of this right now? you know i worry about you. that's not new."

You bit your lip, fingers playing with the edge of the blanket. "i guess… i've been wondering lately if i've ever mistaken your protection for something else. like… possessiveness."

Jay stared at you for a beat, then let out a low, genuine laugh — the kind that made his eyes crinkle at the corners.

He sat up fully now, swinging his legs so he was facing you directly. the movement brought him much closer, your knees nearly touching, his presence suddenly filling your space.

"Possessiveness?" he repeated, still chuckling in disbelief. "you're way too drunk to be throwing words like that around."

You met his gaze, your heart beating faster. "i'm drunk, but i'm sober enough to notice that you're the one acting weird tonight."

Jay laughed again, softer this time, shaking his head. "me? weird?"

He leaned in a little, voice dropping. "you're the one whose breathing keeps changing every time i get close. the one who keeps pressing your thighs together when my hand brushes your arm or when i fix your posture during lessons. you think i don't notice?"

Your mouth went dry. heat flooded your cheeks.

He was right — painfully right. you'd been doing exactly that for the past two months during every guitar session. and tonight, with the alcohol stripping away your filters, it was impossible to hide.

You stayed silent for a long moment, just looking at him. then you put on that fake-innocent expression you knew he could see right through — wide eyes, slight tilt of your head.

"If you know all of that… why don't you do anything about it?"

The question hung in the air like smoke. Jay's smirk faded into something more intense, more focused. his dark eyes searched yours carefully.

"Because i'd never do anything you haven't asked for" he said, voice low and steady. "not with you. never."

Your face grew hotter. you could feel the blush spreading down your neck.

The tension in the room thickened, wrapping around both of you. you were hyper-aware of everything: the way his bare arm looked under the golden light, the faint scent of his skin mixed with the laundry detergent on the t-shirt he was wearing, how close his mouth was if you just leaned forward a few inches.

You swallowed hard, your voice barely above a whisper. "and if i did ask… would you give it to me?"

Jay didn't answer with words right away.

Instead, he reached out slowly, his fingers gently brushing your hair away from your face before tucking it carefully behind your ear.

The touch was light, but it sent electricity racing across your skin. His hand lingered there for a second, thumb grazing your cheekbone.

Then he nodded. once. slow and deliberate.

Your heart slammed against your ribs.

The simple gesture and that quiet confirmation made your stomach flip violently.

In your mind, the thoughts rushed in unfiltered — filthy, desperate images of his hands on your body, his voice in your ear, finally giving in to what you'd wanted for years. but you stayed still, letting the tension stretch.

Jay's eyes stayed locked on yours, calm but burning with something deeper. he didn't move closer or pull away. he just waited, giving you the space to decide what came next.

"You're really going to make me say it out loud, huh?" you murmured, a nervous little smile tugging at your lips.

He smirked again, that trademark Jay confidence returning. "i'm not assuming anything with you. i've known you too long. if this is what you want, you're going to have to be clear."

You let out a shaky breath, shifting slightly on the bed.

Your thigh pressed more firmly against his. neither of you moved away.

"I've wanted this for so long" you admitted quietly, the alcohol and years of repression loosening your tongue.

"Not just tonight. since we were in high school. every time you taught me guitar… every time we'd end up here talking until 3 a.m.… it's been driving me crazy."

Jay listened without interrupting, his expression unreadable but his body language open.

He moved one hand on the bed near your leg, close enough that you could feel the heat radiating from him.

"You hid it well" he said eventually, voice rougher than before. "most of the time."

"Guess i'm not hiding it anymore."

He chuckled softly. "No. you're really not."

Another stretch of heavy silence. your eyes dropped to his mouth for a second before flicking back up. Jay noticed, of course.

He always noticed.

"You're nervous" he observed, not teasing this time. just stating it. "your pulse is going crazy right here." his fingers lightly touched the side of your neck, feeling your heartbeat.

You didn't deny it. instead, you leaned into his touch just slightly.

"I'm nervous because it's you" you whispered. "because if we do this… it changes everything."

Jay's thumb brushed slowly along your jaw. "it doesn't have to. not unless we want it to."

His words were careful, responsible — so typically Jay.

Even now, when the air between you crackled with years of built-up desire, he was still thinking about protecting what you had. it only made you want him more.

You stayed like that for a while longer, talking in low voices.

Every small movement — your fingers brushing his arm — felt loaded.

The tension was thick enough to taste. your body ached with it, a deep, warm need that had been growing for years, sharpened by every guitar lesson, every late-night conversation, every moment you'd spent pretending.

But still, you didn't cross the line. not yet.

The silence between you stretched, thick and electric. your heart hammered so hard you were sure he could hear it.

The soft lighting in Jay's room wrapped around both of you like a secret, making every small movement feel heavier than it should.

You shifted closer on the bed, moving until you were on your knees beside him.

Jay was leaning back against the pillows in a way that left space — deliberate space. if you wanted to climb on him, kiss him, do anything… he wouldn't pull away. his dark eyes followed you calmly, patient as always.

"You don't have to feel any pressure" he said quietly, voice low and steady. "even Heeseung and Jake noticed. they've been telling me for weeks how obviously into me you are. i couldn't exactly deny feeling it too… but i didn't want to make things weird between us."

His honesty hit you hard. you leaned in slowly and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, lingering there for a second. his skin was warm under your lips.

"I don't want things to get uncomfortable either" you whispered against his cheek. "if we do this… if something happens… i promise i can pretend it never did. until we figure out how we really feel. no pressure on you either.”

Jay nodded once, then shifted back until he was leaning against the headboard of his bed.

The blankets were rumpled around you both.

You hesitated only a moment longer before swinging one leg over his lap and settling yourself straddling him.

The oversized t-shirt you wore rode up your thighs slightly as you sat down. Jay's hands came up naturally to rest on your waist — steady, supportive, but respectful.

His fingers didn't wander lower. he simply held you there, giving you balance without pushing for more.

For a few seconds, neither of you spoke. you were both breathing a little heavier. your hands rested on his chest, feeling the steady thump of his heart under the thin fabric of his shirt.

You traced small, nervous circles with your fingertips, exploring the firm muscle you'd stared at so many times during those guitar lessons.

Jay watched you closely, that cool, observant expression still on his face even now.

"You've been thinking about this for a long time, haven't you?" he murmured.

You nodded, biting your lip. your hands slid slowly up his chest to his shoulders, then back down again, feeling the warmth of him through the shirt. "yeah… especially during those lessons. every time you sat behind me… every time your hands were on mine…"

You leaned forward and kissed his other cheek, then the corner of his jaw. your fingers kept moving, sliding over his collarbones, down his arms, learning the shape of him like you'd wanted to for years.

Jay's grip on your waist tightened just slightly — not enough to control, just enough to show he was affected.

"You have no idea how hard it's been keeping my hands where they belong during those lessons" he said, voice dropping lower, a little rougher around the edges.

"Sitting that close to you, feeling you react every time i touch your fingers… knowing you're getting wet just from that. it's been driving me fucking crazy too."

Your breath hitched at his words. the slight dirty edge to them — so rare from him — sent heat rushing through your whole body. you pressed your palms flat against his chest again, feeling how his breathing had changed.

"I want you to teach me what good sex feels like, Jay" you finally whispered, the words spilling out shy but honest.

Your face burned as you said it, but you didn't look away.

Jay's eyes darkened, but he still held himself back. his thumbs brushed slow, soothing circles on your waist over the t-shirt.

"You're sure?" he asked, even now checking. "we can stop anytime. this doesn't change anything if you don't want it to."

"I'm sure" you breathed.

You leaned in and finally kissed him properly.

The first kiss was soft — tentative, testing.

His lips were warm and surprisingly gentle against yours. then you tilted your head a little more, deepening it, and Jay responded with a low hum that vibrated through his chest.

One of his hands stayed firmly on your waist while the other came up to cup the back of your neck, not pulling, just supporting.

You kissed him again, slower this time, savoring it. your hands grew bolder, sliding under the hem of his shirt to touch bare skin.

You traced the lines of his abs, feeling the way his stomach tensed under your fingertips. Jay let out a quiet breath against your mouth when your nails grazed lightly over his skin.

"Fuck..." he muttered between kisses, voice husky. "you've been holding back a lot, haven't you? all those times you sat in this room acting innocent while your mind was somewhere filthy…"

You smiled shyly against his lips, still that mix of timid and needy. "Maybe."

Your hands kept exploring — running up his back, feeling the muscle there, then back to his chest.

You could feel how hard his heart was beating. you shifted slightly in his lap, not grinding, just adjusting closer, and Jay's fingers flexed on your waist.

He kissed you again, a little deeper this time, his tongue brushing yours carefully. when you pulled back for air, he rested his forehead against yours.

"You're shaking" he observed quietly, always noticing everything. "still nervous?"

"A little" you admitted, your fingers still tracing patterns on his chest under his shirt. "but i want this. i've wanted it for so long."

Jay's hand slid up your back in a slow, comforting stroke. "then we take it slow. i'm not rushing anything with you."

His voice dropped again, that slight dirty tone returning. "even if i've thought about bending you over that guitar stool more times than i should admit."

Your face flushed hot. you kissed him again to hide your embarrassment, hands cupping his face now.

The kiss grew heavier, more urgent, but Jay kept control — never letting his hands move lower than your waist, never pushing your hips down against him.

You broke the kiss and pressed your face into his neck, breathing him in as your fingers continued their slow exploration of his torso.

You could feel him getting hard beneath you, but he made no move to do anything about it.

"Tell me what you've thought about" you whispered against his skin, shy but curious.

Jay let out a low chuckle, the sound vibrating against your cheek. "you really want to hear that right now?"

You nodded, kissing his neck softly.

He exhaled slowly. "a lot of nights after you left these lessons… i thought about how pretty you look when you're concentrated. how your breathing changes when i get close. thought about what sounds you'd make if i finally touched you properly instead of pretending it was just about guitar chords."

Your thighs squeezed instinctively around his hips. Jay noticed but didn't comment on it, just kept talking in that low, controlled voice.

"I've wondered how you'd taste" he added, almost casually. "how you'd look sitting on my lap like this, trying so hard to stay quiet because your brothers might hear if we were at your house."

You let out a shaky breath, your hands tightening on his shoulders.

The tension was almost unbearable now — heavy, aching, delicious. you kissed him again, deeper, your body pressing closer against his chest while your hands roamed freely under his shirt.

Jay kissed you back with the same measured intensity, one hand still steady on your waist, the other gently threading through your hair. he was hard beneath you, you could feel it clearly, but he remained the same Jay — cool-headed, teasing even now.

"You're going to kill me if you keep touching me like that" he murmured against your lips, a hint of a smirk in his voice. "those hands have been driving me insane for months."

You smiled, a little breathless, and kissed the corner of his mouth. "good. because you've been doing the same to me every single lesson."

The two of you stayed like that for a long time — kissing slowly, touching carefully, talking in low voices between heated moments.

The world outside felt far away. years of friendship and hidden desire were finally cracking open, but still slowly, still safely.

Jay pulled back after one particularly long kiss, brushing his thumb over your bottom lip.

"Still okay?" he asked, eyes searching yours.

You nodded, leaning in to kiss him again.

Neither of you were ready to stop yet. the night was young, the tension was perfect, and for the first time, you weren't pretending anymore.

You kept kissing him, deeper now, with a hunger that surprised even you. despite the innocent, pure look on your face — wide eyes, flushed cheeks — any shyness had melted away under the heat of the alcohol and years of built-up need.

Your hands moved with purpose, sliding down Jay's chest, over his stomach, until you boldly palmed the obvious bulge straining against his gray pajama shorts.

Jay let out a sharp breath against your mouth, then another low sigh as your fingers rubbed him slowly through the fabric. je was hard, thick, and warm under your touch. you didn't hesitate, stroking him with more confidence, feeling him twitch under your palm.

"Fuck…" he muttered between kisses, his voice rougher.

He finally broke the kiss, pulling back just enough to look down between your bodies.

There you were — straddling him, hand shamelessly rubbing his erection right beneath where you sat. his dark eyes darkened further.

"You're not playing around tonight, huh?" he said, voice low and slightly amused, but clearly affected.

You leaned in closer, lips brushing his ear, your voice needy and breathless. "i need you so bad right now, Jay… please. i want you to fuck me."

Jay let out a short, surprised laugh, the sound husky. "then take all your clothes off" he said, half-joking, half-challenging, that signature teasing tone still there even now.

But you were too far gone.

Without hesitation, you sat back on his thighs and pulled the oversized t-shirt over your head, revealing your bare chest. then you lifted your hips and slid the pajama shorts down your legs, kicking them aside until you were left in just your panties.

Your skin felt hot under his gaze.

Jay cursed under his breath — a low, impressed "shit…" — as his eyes raked over your body. his hands stayed respectful on your waist for a moment longer before he helped steady you.

"Come here" he murmured, pulling you back onto his lap properly.

The kissing resumed, hotter this time.

Your hand returned to stroking him through his shorts while his mouth moved from your lips to your jaw, then down your neck.

He sucked lightly on your skin, not enough to leave marks yet, but enough to make you whimper softly.

You ground against his bulge slowly, feeling the friction through the thin layers separating you. Jay's breathing grew heavier, his hands finally sliding up your sides, thumbs brushing the underside of your breasts.

"You've been hiding this body from me during all those lessons?" he said against your neck, voice low and a little dirty. "sitting there acting all innocent while i was trying not to think about how you'd look like this… straddling me, touching my cock like you own it."

You moaned softly at his words, your hand squeezing him firmer. "i thought about it every time."

Jay kissed you hard again, then shifted both of you. he moved you off his lap gently and stood up, quickly pulling his own shirt off and dropping his shorts.

His cock sprang free — hard, flushed, and bigger than you'd imagined in your filthiest thoughts. he was smooth, well-kept, the head already glistening.

He sat back down against the headboard and pulled you back on top, but this time he guided you into a different position.

He turned you so you were facing away from him, your back to his chest, straddling his lap in reverse.

"Like this" he said quietly, voice steady but thick with want. "i want to feel you."

His hands settled on your hips, guiding you as you lowered yourself.

He didn't enter you yet — instead, he pulled your panties to the side and slid his cock between your folds, letting you grind along his length. the heat of him against your wet pussy made you gasp.

You leaned back against his chest, one of his arms wrapping around your waist to hold you steady while his other hand reached down to rub slow circles on your clit.

His mouth was right by your ear, breathing warm against it.

"Slow" he reminded you, always in some control. "we've got all night."

You rocked your hips, sliding along his cock, coating him with how wet you were.

Jay groaned softly, the sound vibrating against your back. he kept rubbing your clit with practiced fingers, occasionally squeezing your breast with his free hand, rolling your nipple gently.

"Feel how hard you made me?" he murmured, lips brushing your ear. "all those guitar lessons… you sitting between my legs, biting your lip every time i touched you. i wanted to pull you back against me just like this."

You moaned, moving faster against him. Jay adjusted his grip, lifting you slightly before finally guiding the head of his cock to your entrance.

"Ready?" he asked, checking one last time.

"Yes" you breathed.

He lowered you slowly onto him, inch by inch.

The stretch was perfect — full, deep, overwhelming in the best way.

When he bottomed out, both of you let out shaky breaths. he stayed still for a moment, letting you adjust, his arm tight around your waist, the other hand still between your legs rubbing your clit.

Then he started moving.

He thrust up into you in a steady rhythm, deep and controlled.

You braced your hands on his thighs, leaning forward slightly as you rode him in reverse, matching his pace.

The position let him hit deep with every roll of his hips, his cock dragging against that perfect spot inside you.

Jay's breathing was ragged now, but his voice stayed low near your ear. "that's it… just like that. you feel so fucking good."

His hand on your clit never stopped, matching the rhythm of his thrusts.

The other hand gripped your hip, guiding you down onto him harder.

The sound of skin meeting skin filled the warm room, mixed with your soft moans and his occasional low groans.

You leaned further forward, hands on his knees for leverage, bouncing on his cock while he thrust up to meet you. Jay cursed again, the view from behind clearly affecting him.

"Look at you" he said, voice strained but still teasing. "taking me so well after wanting it for years…"

The pleasure built fast — the angle, his fingers on your clit, the deep thrusts.

Your thighs started trembling. Jay noticed, as always, and wrapped his arm tighter around you, holding you close as he fucked you through it.

Your back arching against his chest, a broken moan leaving your lips. Jay kept moving, slower now, drawing it out, murmuring quiet praise against your neck.

He didn't stop completely. after you caught your breath, he guided you to lean all the way forward, chest almost to the bed, still connected.

He sat up straighter behind you, hands on your hips as he thrust deeper, faster, chasing his own release.

The position was intense — you face down, ass up, Jay behind you thrusting with controlled power. his hands roamed your back, occasionally gripping your hair lightly to pull you back against him.

"Fuck, you're squeezing me so tight" he groaned.

You pushed back against him, meeting every thrust. Jay's pace grew more urgent, but he never lost that cool edge — always making sure you were okay, his hands soothing even as he fucked you harder.

You kept moving on him, rolling your hips in a slow, needy rhythm as you rode Jay in reverse.

Your back was pressed against his chest, his cock buried deep inside you with every downward motion.

The stretch felt incredible, and the position let you feel every inch of him. your hands gripped his thighs for balance while his arm stayed wrapped around your waist, the other hand still teasing your clit with slow, deliberate circles.

But Jay had other plans.

His hands slid to your hips, gripping firmly but not harshly.

With a low murmur against your ear — "let me take over for a bit" — he guided you forward. you leaned down, hands bracing on the bed as he smoothly shifted your body off his lap and onto all fours. the transition was fluid, his cock slipping out for just a second before he positioned himself behind you.

Your hips stayed high, ass up, while your chest and face pressed down into the mattress.

The soft sheets muffled your heavy breathing as Jay knelt behind you.

He reached forward, gathering both of your arms gently but decisively, pulling them behind your lower back. he held your wrists together with one hand, limiting your movement without being overly restrictive.

His grip was secure, controlling, but still careful — classic Jay.

"Fuck… Jay…" you moaned loudly, the sound shameless and needy.

Your voice echoed in the warm room, much louder than you'd ever been with anyone else. "it feels so deep like this…"

He rubbed the head of his cock along your soaked folds for a moment, teasing, before pushing back inside you in one smooth, deep thrust.

You cried out, face buried in the mattress as your ass stayed arched high for him.

Jay started moving — deep and fast, but not brutal.

Each thrust was powerful and controlled, hitting that perfect spot inside you with precision. the sound of skin slapping skin filled the room, steady and rhythmic.

"Shit, listen to you" he said, voice low and slightly amused even now.

"You're so loud tonight. all those years pretending to be shy during our lessons… and now you're moaning like this with your face in my bed."

You whimpered loudly in response, unable to hold back. "i can't help it… you're so deep— ahh!" another loud moan tore from your throat as he thrust particularly deep, holding it there for a second before resuming his pace.

Jay kept your wrists pinned at your lower back with one hand while his other hand reached up and gathered your hair.

He didn't yank it — he simply held it firmly, using it as leverage to keep your head down against the mattress while he fucked you. the gentle tug on your scalp sent sparks through your body.

"That's it" he murmured, breathing heavier but still composed. "keep that ass up for me. you feel incredible like this… so wet. been thinking about this view for months every time you left my room."

Your moans grew louder, unrestrained. every deep thrust pushed a new sound out of you — high-pitched whimpers mixed with desperate gasps and full moans.

Your hips pushed back against him instinctively, meeting his rhythm as much as his grip on your wrists allowed.

"Jay— oh god, right there— fuck" you cried out, voice breaking. Your face stayed pressed into the sheets, cheek turned to the side, eyes half-closed in pleasure.

He leaned forward slightly, chest closer to your back, changing the angle just enough to make you see stars.

His thrusts never faltered — consistent, deep, fast enough to make your thighs shake but never rough enough to cross into discomfort.

"You're squeezing me so tight" he groaned near your ear, voice rough but still that familiar Jay tone — teasing underneath the lust. "all that tension from the guitar lessons finally coming out, huh?… you were this wet thinking about me fucking you like this?"

"Yes— fuck" you moaned loudly, almost sobbing into the mattress.

Your body rocked forward with each thrust, but Jay's hold on your wrists and hair kept you exactly where he wanted you. "i need more… please don't stop—"

He didn't.

He kept the pace steady, fucking you thoroughly.

Minutes passed like this — long, drawn-out, filthy minutes filled with the wet sounds of your bodies connecting and your increasingly loud moans. Jay would occasionally slow down to grind deep inside you, letting you feel every inch, before picking up speed again.

After a while, he released your wrists but only to adjust your position further.

He gently pushed your upper body fully down onto the bed, guiding you into a prone-bone angle — your hips still tilted up, legs slightly spread, chest and face pressed flat against the mattress.

He moved with you, covering your back with his chest as he slid back inside.

This new position felt even deeper. Jay's weight pressed you into the bed as he thrust down into you, one hand still tangled in your hair, the other braced beside your head for support.

"Still good?" he asked between thrusts, voice low and caring even as he fucked you harder. "tell me if it's too much."

"It's— ah... it's perfect— Jay, fuck" your voice was loud and broken, moans spilling out continuously now.

The mattress muffled some of them, but not enough. you were loud, needy, completely lost in the sensation.

Jay let out a low chuckle that turned into a groan as you clenched around him. "you're going to wake up the whole house if you keep moaning like that. not that i mind… i like hearing how much you need this."

He kept the rhythm deep and fast, hips snapping against your ass with controlled power.

The angle made his cock drag perfectly against your g-spot with every stroke. his hand in your hair kept you grounded, his lips occasionally brushing your shoulder or the back of your neck as he fucked you.

"You're doing so well" he murmured, voice husky against your ear. "my best friend moaning my name while i fuck her exactly how she needs."

"Jay— please…" you whined loudly, pushing your hips back as much as the position allowed. your hands gripped the sheets tightly, body trembling from the sustained pleasure.

He kept going, deep, fast, relentless but never rough.

Always observant — adjusting when your moans pitched higher, slowing for a few strokes when your thighs shook too much, then building the pace again.

Jay kept his steady, deep rhythm, fucking you thoroughly from behind while you stayed pressed into the mattress. your loud moans continued filling the room without filter — raw, needy, and unrestrained.

But he wasn't done changing things up.

He slowed his thrusts gradually, then pulled out carefully.

Before you could protest the sudden emptiness, he flipped you onto your back with strong but gentle hands.

You barely had time to catch your breath before he was between your legs again, spreading them wide and settling on top of you.

This time, though, he hooked both of your legs over his shoulders, folding you nearly in half.

Your hips lifted off the bed as he leaned forward, bringing his face close to yours. the new angle made everything feel impossibly deeper.

"Jay— fuck—" you moaned loudly as he pushed back inside you in one smooth motion.

Your voice cracked with pleasure, eyes fluttering. "it's so deep like this… i can feel everything—"

He braced his hands on either side of your head, his dark eyes locked on your face as he started moving again. deep, fast strokes that made your breasts bounce with every thrust.

Your legs trembled over his shoulders, ankles near his ears.

Jay's expression stayed focused — that cool, controlled look mixed with clear desire.

He wasn't being rough, but the way he drove into you was relentless, hitting that perfect spot over and over.

"Look at me" he said, voice low and a little strained. "want to see your face while i fuck you."

You tried, but another loud moan tore from your throat as he ground deep inside you, rolling his hips in a way that made your toes curl. "ah— Jay, right there— don't stop—"

Your hands flew up to grip his arms, nails digging into his biceps as he held you folded beneath him.

The position left you completely exposed, hips tilted up, taking every inch of his cock with each thrust.

You were so loud now — moaning, whimpering, gasping his name repeatedly.

The sounds bounced off the walls of his warm-lit room.

Jay leaned down further, almost bending you in half, and kissed you messily.

His tongue slid against yours as he kept thrusting, the wet slap of skin on skin growing louder. when he pulled back, his breathing was heavier.

"You're so fucking loud tonight" he murmured against your lips, a hint of that teasing smirk appearing even now.

"I can't— ah, it feels too good—" you cried out, head falling back against the pillows.

Your face was flushed, lips parted, eyes glassy with pleasure. every deep thrust pushed a new moan out of you. "Jay… Jay, please— it's so much—”

He kept the pace fast and deep, hips snapping forward with controlled power.

The angle made his cock drag perfectly against your g-spot on every stroke. one of his hands moved down to rub your clit again, adding another layer of overwhelming sensation.

You were a mess beneath him — legs over his shoulders, body folded, moaning shamelessly loud with every movement.

Your hands roamed his back, scratching lightly down his skin as pleasure built higher and higher.

"Fuck, you feel perfect" Jay groaned, voice rough but still composed.

He kissed your neck, sucking lightly as he continued thrusting. "been wanting to have you like this for so long. all spread out, taking me so well… moaning my name like you can't get enough."

"I can't— i really can't—" you sobbed-moaned, voice breaking. your hips tried to move to meet his thrusts, but the position left you mostly at his mercy. "it's so deep, Jay… i'm so close already—"

He immediately slowed his pace just enough to keep you on the edge without pushing you over, drawing out the moment. His thrusts became long, deliberate strokes — pulling almost all the way out before sliding back in deep and grinding against you.

"Not yet" he said softly, almost teasing. "we're not done."

He changed the angle slightly, pressing your thighs further back as he leaned over you.

The new depth made you cry out even louder, your voice echoing in the room. Jay's hand stayed on your clit, rubbing slow circles while he fucked you with those deep, fast strokes.

Sweat glistened on both your bodies under the soft brown-gold lighting. Jay's hair fell messily over his forehead as he watched your face, always observant, always checking your reactions.

"Every time I hit this spot right here—" he thrust deep and ground against you to emphasize, making you moan loudly again. "—you get even wetter. you really did want this bad, didn't you?"

"Yes— god, yes— i've wanted you for years—" you gasped, voice loud and broken.

Your hands gripped his shoulders tighter as another wave of pleasure washed over you, keeping you right on the edge.

Jay kept going, deep and fast, but always controlled. he would lean down to kiss you messily every so often, swallowing some of your loud moans before pulling back to watch you again.

His hand never left your clit, building the tension higher without letting it break.

After a while, he lowered your legs from his shoulders but kept them spread wide. he stayed on top, chest pressed to yours in a more classic missionary, but still deep and intense.

His hips rolled against yours in a steady rhythm, grinding deep with every thrust.

"Still okay?" he asked between strokes, always the caring one even now.

"So okay— fuck, Jay, it feels amazing—" you moaned loudly, wrapping your legs around his waist to pull him deeper.

The room filled with the sounds of your loud, needy moans, his low groans, and the wet rhythm of your bodies moving together.

Jay kept the pace deep and fast, drawing it out, making the pleasure last as long as possible.

He kissed your neck, your jaw, your lips — mixing tenderness with the raw intensity of how he was fucking you.

His hand occasionally slid up to hold one of your wrists above your head, not pinning hard, just keeping you in place while he drove into you.

"You sound so pretty when you're this loud" he whispered against your ear, voice rough. "moaning for your best friend like this… after all this time."

Your response was another loud, broken moan as he hit that perfect angle again.

The tension kept building, higher and higher, but Jay expertly kept you both teetering right on the edge — not letting either of you fall over just yet.

You were right on the edge.

Your body was shaking underneath Jay, legs wrapped tightly around his waist as he fucked you deep and steady. your moans had become desperate, broken cries that filled the entire room.

"Jay— i'm so close— please, i'm gonna cum—" you gasped loudly, your voice cracking with need. your nails dug into his back as the pressure built unbearably tight inside you.

But Jay suddenly slowed down, then stopped moving completely, buried to the hilt inside you. he held perfectly still, breathing heavily against your neck.

"Not yet" he murmured, voice low and composed, that teasing control still fully intact. "you're not cumming yet."

You let out a loud, frustrated whine, trying to roll your hips up desperately, but he pinned you down with his weight, refusing to give you the last bit of friction you needed.

"Jay… please…" you begged, voice needy and loud. "i was so close—"

He kissed the corner of your mouth softly, then slowly pulled out of you, making you whimper at the sudden emptiness.

Your pussy throbbed painfully, slick and desperate.

Jay moved down your body with deliberate calmness. he spread your legs wide, settling between them on his stomach.

His dark eyes looked up at your flushed, innocent-looking face as he wrapped his strong arms around your thighs, holding you open for him.

"Since you're being so loud and impatient" he said, voice husky but still teasing, "i'm going to taste you instead. but you still don't get to cum until i say so."

Before you could respond, Jay leaned in and dragged his tongue slowly up your soaked folds.

You moaned loudly, back arching off the bed at the sudden intense pleasure.

"Fuck— Jay—"

He took his time, exploring you with his mouth like he had all night. his tongue moved in slow, broad strokes from your entrance up to your clit, savoring how wet you were.

Then he circled your swollen clit with the tip of his tongue, applying just enough pressure to keep you right on the edge without pushing you over.

You were loud — extremely loud. your moans echoed shamelessly in his warm-lit room as he ate you out.

"Oh my god— Jay… that feels so good—" you cried out, one hand flying down to grip his hair. your hips tried to buck against his face, but his strong arms kept your thighs firmly pinned down, controlling your movements.

Jay hummed against your pussy, the vibration making you whimper even louder.

He alternated between long, slow licks and focused sucking on your clit, occasionally dipping his tongue inside you. his technique was precise and confident — typical Jay, even in this.

"You taste even better than i imagined" he murmured against your wet skin, voice slightly muffled. "all those guitar lessons… and i had no idea how sweet this pretty pussy was."

You moaned brokenly, head thrown back against the pillows. "Jay— please— i need to cum so bad— i can't take it—"

He ignored your begging and continued devouring you.

His tongue flicked rapidly over your clit for a few seconds, then slowed down again, edging you mercilessly.

Every time your thighs started trembling harder and your moans pitched higher, he would pull back slightly, kissing your inner thighs or blowing cool air on your sensitive folds until the orgasm threat faded just enough.

You were a complete mess — loud, desperate, and dripping.

"Ah! Jay— your tongue feels too good—" you sobbed, voice hoarse from how much you'd been moaning. your free hand gripped the sheets tightly beside you, knuckles turning white.

Jay slid two fingers inside you slowly while his mouth focused on your clit, curling them upward to press against that sensitive spot. the combination made you cry out even louder, almost screaming his name.

"Jay— fuck— i'm so close again— please let me cum this time—"

But he pulled his fingers out and slowed his tongue once more, denying you for the third time.

You let out a loud, frustrated whimper, tears of overwhelming pleasure pricking at the corners of your eyes.

"Not yet" he repeated calmly, kissing your clit softly. "i want you shaking for me first."

He buried his face deeper between your legs, sucking your clit into his mouth while his tongue flicked rapidly.

The wet, obscene sounds of him eating you out mixed with your loud, broken moans. he kept you spread wide, completely exposed, as he worked you over with expert patience.

Minutes passed like this — long, torturous minutes of Jay's mouth on your pussy.

He would bring you right to the brink with fast, focused licks and suction, then slow down to lazy, broad strokes that kept the pleasure simmering without exploding.

Your body was covered in a thin layer of sweat, thighs trembling uncontrollably around his head.

"You're dripping all over my chin" he murmured, voice low and slightly dirty. "such a messy girl tonight. and still trying so hard to be quiet when we both know you can't."

"I'm not— i can't be quiet— Jay, please—" you moaned, almost incoherently now.

He slid his fingers back inside you, fucking you slowly with them while his tongue circled your clit.

The dual sensation had you seeing stars, right on the edge once again.

Your voice was getting hoarser, your moans desperate, needy sobs as he continued edging you with his mouth for what felt like forever.

Jay between your spread legs, focused and in control, while you writhed and moaned loudly beneath his skilled tongue.

He was clearly enjoying himself, occasionally humming in satisfaction against your pussy or glancing up to watch your innocent face contort with overwhelming pleasure.

"You're doing so well holding it for me" he praised softly between licks. "just a little longer…"

Your body was on fire, every nerve ending screaming for release, but Jay kept you right there — teetering, desperate, and completely at his mercy.

Now you were shaking uncontrollably, your thighs trembling around Jay's head as he continued working you with his tongue.

Jay sucked your swollen clit into his mouth, flicking his tongue rapidly while his two fingers curled deep inside you, pressing firmly against that sensitive spot.

His dark eyes flicked up to watch your face as he pushed you over.

"Jay— fuck— i'm cumming—!" you cried out loudly, voice breaking into a high-pitched moan that echoed through the room.

The orgasm crashed over you hard.

Your back arched violently off the bed, hips jerking against his face as waves of intense pleasure ripped through your body.

You moaned shamelessly loud, almost screaming his name as your pussy clenched around his fingers and flooded his tongue.

But Jay didn't stop.

He kept his mouth on you through the entire orgasm, licking and sucking gently but consistently, drawing it out and immediately pushing you toward another peak.

"Jay— oh my god, it's too much... i just came— ah" you wailed, one hand gripping his hair tightly while the other twisted in the sheets. your legs shook uncontrollably around his shoulders.

He hummed against your pussy, the vibration sending aftershocks through you.

"I know" he murmured, voice low and slightly smug against your wet folds. "but you sound too pretty when you're falling apart. i'm not done with you yet."

He continued eating you out with focused determination — slow, broad licks mixed with quick flicks on your oversensitive clit.

His fingers kept moving inside you, curling and thrusting steadily. the wet, obscene sounds of his mouth on your dripping pussy filled the room alongside your loud, hoarse moans.

After several long minutes of this delicious torture, Jay finally pulled his mouth away, his lips and chin glistening with your arousal.

He looked up at your flushed, wrecked face with that signature cool smirk.

"On your stomach again." he said quietly, voice rough with want.

You barely had the strength to move, but he helped you, flipping you onto your belly with strong, careful hands.

He pulled your hips up so you were in doggy again — ass high, chest and face pressed down into the mattress, exactly how he liked you.

Jay knelt behind you and rubbed his hard cock along your soaked folds before pushing back inside you in one smooth, deep thrust. you moaned into the sheets as he filled you again.

"Jay— nggh—"

He started fucking you again with those perfect deep and fast strokes, his hips snapping against your ass.

One hand gripped your hip firmly while the other slid up your back. Then you felt it — his thumb circling your tight rim teasingly before slowly pressing inside.

The dual sensation — his thick cock stretching your pussy while his thumb gently worked inside your ass — was overwhelming.

"Shit... Jay" your body trembled as he pushed his thumb deeper, moving it in slow, careful thrusts in time with his cock.

"Relax for me" he murmured, voice low and steady even as he fucked you harder. "just a little. i've got you."

He kept the pace deep and rhythmic, cock driving into your pussy while his thumb gently fucked your ass.

The feeling was intense but not painful — just enough stretch and fullness to make your loud moans turn even more desperate.

You were a wreck — face down, ass up, moaning shamelessly loud with every thrust. Jay's free hand reached around to rub your clit again, pushing you toward another orgasm while he continued the double stimulation.

"Listen to how loud you are" he said, voice husky with arousal but still teasing. "you love this, don't you?"

"Yes... ngf... fuck yes, i love it—" you cried out, pushing back against him desperately. "don't stop... please."

Jay kept going, deep and controlled.

His cock dragged perfectly against your g-spot with every thrust while his thumb moved gently inside you, stretching you just enough to heighten everything.

The room was filled with the wet sounds of sex, skin slapping skin, and your continuous loud moans.

He leaned forward, chest pressing against your back as he fucked you, his mouth close to your ear.

"You're squeezing me so fucking tight" he groaned softly. "both holes. such a greedy girl tonight."

You could only moan in response, completely lost in the pleasure.

Jay's rhythm never faltered — deep, fast strokes in your pussy, steady movements of his thumb in your ass, and his fingers still working your clit.

He kept you right on the edge of another orgasm, drawing it out just like before.

After several long, intense minutes, he pulled his thumb out carefully and focused entirely on fucking you deep from behind, both hands gripping your hips as he drove into you with powerful, controlled thrusts.

Jay leaned down again, kissing the back of your neck as he continued fucking you thoroughly.

"You're doing so well" he said quietly, voice warm despite how hard he was driving into you. "taking me so deep… being so loud for me. my perfect girl."

He kept the pace going, switching between deep grinding and faster thrusts, always keeping you full and stimulated.

He gripped your hips tighter and drove into you harder, his cock sliding in and out of your soaked, sensitive pussy with wet, obscene sounds.

"Jay, fuck... it's too much—" you cried out, voice breaking as he hit that perfect spot over and over.

He leaned forward, chest pressing against your back, and wrapped one arm around your waist to hold you in place. his other hand slid up to grip your shoulder, pulling you back onto his cock with every thrust.

"You can take it" he murmured against your ear, voice rough and low. "you've been waiting years for this. take it like a good girl for me."

Then he shifted again, pushing your upper body fully down while keeping your hips raised.

The weight of him on top of you again, the way his cock drove so deep at this angle, had you moaning loudly into the sheets, almost sobbing with overstimulation and pleasure.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of him fucking you thoroughly, Jay's breathing became more ragged. his thrusts grew faster, more desperate.

This was exactly how he needed it.

He fucked you harder, hips snapping against your ass with urgent, almost frantic strokes.

His cock drove deep inside you with every thrust, the angle letting him hit as deep as possible. his breathing was heavy and labored against the back of your neck.

"Fuck— i'm close—" he groaned, voice strained for the first time that night. "you feel too good… i can't hold it anymore."

You moaned loudly in response, pushing your ass back against him as much as you could. "cum inside me, i want to feel you—"

That seemed to break the last bit of his control.

Jay's thrusts became erratic and desperate. he buried his face in the crook of your neck, one arm wrapped tightly around your waist, the other gripping the sheets beside your head.

His hips slammed against you faster, chasing his release with raw need.

"Shit— fuck" he growled, voice breaking as the pleasure overtook him.

With a deep, guttural groan that vibrated against your skin, Jay buried himself as deep as possible inside you and came hard.

His cock pulsed strongly, releasing thick, warm spurts of cum deep into your pussy.

His hips stuttered and jerked against your ass as he rode out the intense orgasm, grinding deep to push every drop inside you.

He kept thrusting weakly through his climax, desperate and almost whimpering against your neck as the pleasure overwhelmed him.

His body trembled on top of yours, muscles tense, breathing ragged and hot against your skin.

He stayed pressed against you, hips twitching, making sure you took every single drop.

The desperation in his movements — the way he held you so tightly, the broken groans, the way he couldn't stop moving even after he started cumming — was raw and intense. years of tension finally snapping in that exact moment.

He stayed inside you for a long time afterward, breathing heavily, body still covering yours completely as the last aftershocks ran through him.

His cock continued to twitch inside your cum-filled pussy, making you whimper softly at the overstimulation.

The room was quiet now except for both of your heavy breathing. Jay's warm, sweaty body remained pressed against your back, his face hidden in your neck as he tried to catch his breath.

No words yet.

Just the heavy, satisfied silence and the feeling of him still deep inside you, having cum exactly where he needed to — deep, desperate, and completely lost in the moment.

The room felt quieter than it had all night.

You stayed there — face down, body spent and trembling — trying to process the overwhelming wave of emotions crashing over you.

The pleasure was still echoing through your limbs, but something deeper was settling in. something terrifying and warm at the same time.

Jay finally let out a long, shaky breath.

He pressed a slow, almost hesitant kiss to the back of your shoulder before carefully pulling out of you.

The loss of him made you whimper softly. you felt empty.

Exposed. raw.

He rolled off you and lay on his side, facing you.

For a few seconds, he just looked at you — dark eyes searching your face with that familiar intensity. his hair was messy, lips slightly swollen, skin glistening with sweat under the soft brown-gold lighting.

He looked beautiful. and suddenly, painfully real.

You turned your head to face him, cheek still pressed against the bed.

Your heart was doing something complicated in your chest.

"Jay…" you whispered, voice hoarse from how loudly you'd been moaning.

He reached out and gently brushed damp strands of hair away from your face. his touch was careful now, almost reverent.

"Yeah?" he answered quietly. his voice was lower than usual, a little rough.

You didn't know what to say. there were too many things at once.

I just slept with my best friend.

I let him cum inside me.

I've been in love with you for years and now i'm scared.

Instead of speaking, you shifted closer and tucked yourself against his chest.

Jay didn't hesitate — he wrapped his arms around you immediately, pulling you in.

One hand rubbed slow circles on your bare back while the other rested at the nape of your neck.

The silence stretched again, but it wasn't uncomfortable.

It was heavy.

"I…" you started, then stopped.

Your fingers traced small patterns on his chest, feeling his heartbeat slowly begin to calm. "i don't know what to say right now."

Jay let out a soft breath that was almost a chuckle. "me neither."

He tilted his head down to look at you.

His expression was calm on the surface, but you knew him too well. there was something vulnerable behind his eyes.

"Are you okay?" he asked. the question was simple, but the way he asked it — gentle, serious — made your chest tighten.

You nodded against him. "yeah. just… a lot."

He was quiet for a moment, then spoke again, voice low. "i know. for me too."

You pulled back slightly so you could see his face better. "did you… want this? like, really want it? or did i just—"

Jay cut you off by pressing his forehead against yours.

"I wanted it" he said firmly. "i've wanted it for longer than i probably should admit. but i never let myself think about it too much because… you're you. my best friend. the one person i didn't want to risk losing."

Your eyes stung a little.

You swallowed hard.

"I've been in love with you since second year" you confessed in a whisper. the words felt scary to say out loud, but after everything that had just happened, they also felt necessary.

"Not just… wanting you. loving you. for years. and tonight i just… i couldn't pretend anymore."

Jay's hand stilled on your back for a second. then he pulled you closer, tucking your head under his chin.

"I figured" he murmured. "i'm not blind. the way you looked at me during those guitar lessons… how you'd get quiet sometimes. i noticed. i just didn't know if acting on it would fuck everything up."

You let out a shaky laugh. "and now?"

He was quiet for a long time. his fingers resumed their slow movement on your back.

"Now i don't know" he admitted honestly. "but i don't regret it. not even a little." he paused. "do you?"

You shook your head quickly. "no. God, no. it felt… right. even if it was intense. even if i was so loud i probably woke up your neighbors."

Jay chuckled softly, the sound rumbling in his chest.

The familiar teasing tone returned just a bit. "you were really loud. i didn't know you had that in you."

You hid your face in his neck, embarrassed but smiling. "shut up. you were the one edging me for like an hour."

He laughed again, but it faded into something softer. his arms tightened around you.

"I just… i needed to know you really wanted it" he said quietly. "all of it. not just because you were drunk or horny. i needed to hear you fall apart for me."

You stayed silent, absorbing his words.

The vulnerability in his voice was rare. Jay was always the cool one, the one who had everything under control. hearing him admit that he'd been holding back too made something warm bloom in your chest.

"I've never felt like that with anyone else" you whispered. "not even close. it wasn't just sex, Jay. it was you."

He exhaled slowly, like he'd been holding that breath for a long time.

"Yeah" he said finally. "same here."

The two of you stayed tangled together like that for a while.

You traced a finger along his collarbone. "are you scared?" you asked softly.

Jay was quiet for a few seconds.

"A little" he admitted. "i don't want to lose what we have. the friendship. the late nights. the stupid arguments about music. you're important to me. really fucking important."

You nodded, throat tight. "me too. but… i also don't think i can go back to pretending i don't feel this way."

He tilted your chin up gently so you were looking at him. his dark eyes were serious, but there was warmth there too.

"Then we don't pretend" he said. "we figure it out. slowly. no pressure. you're still my best friend first. everything else… we'll see."

You felt tears prick at your eyes again, but this time they were different. not sad. just overwhelmed.

Jay noticed immediately. he wiped the corner of your eye with his thumb.

"Hey" he said softly, that teasing smirk returning just a fraction. "don't cry on me now. i just made you cum so hard you almost forgot your own name. this is supposed to be a victory lap."

You laughed wetly and shoved his chest lightly. "you're such an asshole."

"Your asshole" he corrected, smirking.

The joke helped. it reminded you that even after everything, he was still Jay.

Your Jay.

You snuggled closer again, legs tangling with his. His hand resumed rubbing your back, soothing and steady.

The emotional weight of the night settled over both of you — the relief, the fear, the hope, the deep affection that had always been there underneath the tension.

It wasn't simple. it wasn't clean. but it was real.

Jay held you tighter, like he was afraid you might disappear if he let go.

"Get some sleep" he murmured eventually, voice soft. "we'll talk more in the morning. when your brain isn't fried from all the orgasms i gave you."

You smiled against his skin. "cocky."

"Accurate" he replied.

Even in the emotional aftermath, the teasing remained. it felt safe. familiar.

As your eyes grew heavier, wrapped in his arms in the warm glow of his room, you realized something important:

Whatever happened next — whether this became something more or complicated everything — you didn't regret a single second.

And from the way Jay's fingers kept tracing gentle patterns on your skin long after you thought he'd fallen asleep, you suspected he didn't either.

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[yeonzzzn]

stuck with me: park jongseong

pairing: jay x afab!reader word count: 26.2k

synopsis: in the middle of the apocalypse, you and jay find each other in a situation of life and death, using the protection of each other to get to the next safe zone. unfortunately for the both of you, things take a turn once secrets get revealed and the fight for survival becomes greater.

genre: enemies to lovers, zombie apocalypse!au, blonde jay, smuggler hyung line + smuggler txt, riize members + jungkook and namjoon make appearances, smut.

warnings: swearing, blood, weapons(guns and knives), drug mentions, make-out session, multiple unprotected sex, fingering, oral (f. rec), gun goes pew pew, mentions of d**th, MINORS DNI, lemme know if I missed anything ♡

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Jay said, the barrel of his shotgun pointing straight ahead, his heart rate racing faster than just a second ago, index finger twitching as his whole hand shook. 

You stood across from him, pointing your pistol right back at him, aiming directly for the middle of his forehead. 

Unfortunately for you, you had three other shotguns pointing directly at you. 

Your glare didn’t relent as you eyed each of them. 

“You’d be wise to drop your weapon,” you darted to the one who spoke, his dark red dyed hair hung slightly over his eyes, a sure sign that he didn’t trust you. Which was fair. You didn’t trust them either. 

“Four against one,” one smirked, his natural fangs showing, “Be smart, girl.” 

“I was here first,” you snapped, eyes darting between the four of them, “Find another place to ransack.” 

Jay glanced to his left as Jake took a step ahead of him, “As if! Drop your fucking weapon!” he yelled at you. 

You scoffed, raising both hands up, slowly backing away. Vampire fangs was right, it was four against one. There was no scenario where you would win this fight. Not when four shotguns were being pointed at you with the low amount of ammo you had left. It was a loser situation. They slowly lowered their guns slightly, obviously still on edge. 

Jay watched you carefully as you backed away. Watching as your long-sleeved shirt forsaken you, revealing the white bandage wrapped around your forearm with blood soaking through. His heart raced faster, eyes widened. 

“She’s been fucking bit!!” the redhead snapped, all four of the boys' weapons locking back into place pointing at you. 

“Shit,” Jay hissed. 

You lowered your pistol back at the blonde, gritting your teeth. 

**5 HOURS BEFORE**

You stuffed your mouth with the extra shirt from your backpack, biting down as hard as your jaw let you, and rolled up your sleeve to your elbow, the bite mark on your forearm still looking as gross as ever. 

The bottle of medical alcohol you found at the hospital sat to your left on the counter as you dangled your bitten right arm over the hospital's sink. 

You grabbed the bottle and took a few massive deep breaths in before pouring the alcohol down onto the bite. 

Your grip on the shirt tightened as you hissed in pain, doing everything you could possible to keep your groans to a reasonably quiet level to not alert any living or undead beings that could be stalking the hospital to your current location. 

Once the last of the alcohol dripped from the bottle and onto your arm, you grabbed the paper towels and gently dabbed your skin then tossed the towels behind you. You then picked up the tube of ointment, spreading enough on your fingers to rub gently on the bite. Adding the finishing touch of wrapping the white bandages around the bite and securing it tight. 

You got lucky to have found all these supplies when you did or else you’d be dead soon due to infection and loss of blood. 

You quickly pulled your long-sleeve back down then tossed your extra shirt, along with your newfound medical supplies, into your backpack and threw it over your shoulders. 

In all honesty, besides just being lucky enough to have found these supplies, you were lucky to still even be breathing. 

It’s been three years since this hell started. Since the so-called “cure” for some wack-ass disease was created for treatment that ultimately backfired and turned anyone who took it into a man-eating monster. And as the world failed to contain the outbreak, if anyone who was affected by the treatment bit or even scratched someone else, it too turned them into man-eating monsters. Or zombies if you will. Maybe even runners, clickers, or bloaters if you played the famous “The Last of Us” video game before the world went to shit. The walking dead, walkers, lurkers, the infected. Basically, any term you can think of for zombies is literally what was happening. 

Before the world knew it, everyone was thrown into this universe of kill or be killed to survive. The strong-willed were the only ones who survived. Or unless you were lucky and packed up with others. Or even extremely lucky and live inside one of the safe zones and not have to worry about leaving it. 

Unfortunately for you, you were all the above, minus not getting to leave the comfort of the safe zone. 

The safe zone you lived in was small and quiet. Not a lot of people, maybe a little over three hundred. So when supplies ran low, teams were sent out to gather more. Your safe zone wasn’t lucky enough to have military aid, and even when the military did come by to give supplies, it never was enough. Guess they saw your safe zone as a waste of time. 

You’ve ventured out of the safe zone multiple times for supply runs, so when you were picked to be a part of the team to head out, you thought nothing of it. Thought of it as just another scouting and supply run…but it wasn’t. Clearly. 

Your luck had to run out at some point, and that day just so happened to be where the luck ended. 

Your team was stuck between a rock and a hard place, quite literally, actually. The rock technically being a wall and the hard place being the undead had your team surrounded with no chances of escaping. Two of your team members were already killed, one got bit and killed themselves to spare the pain of changing, leaving just you and four others. One got scratched on the leg and had no other chance of escaping. Bless that man because he used his last bit of flares and bullets to part the sea in a chance to let you and the others make a run for it. 

You held onto the hand of your best friend as you both booked it on the small clear path. And once the sea started to close, you knew it was over. Your friend was ripped from your hand, her screams filling your ears along with the others who were being torn apart. You wanted to give up. You should have given up. You were surrounded, and the smell of death from the unliving as they were only nearly inches away from you. But some spark of hope kept you moving forward. Some unrelenting force pushing you towards the window. Your best friend yelled at you to keep going. If you were honest, her voice wasn’t the only thing that gave that hope. Something else was drawing you to stay alive, and what could that have been? You didn’t know. But you wanted to find out. 

You guarded your neck and face with your arms as you jumped through the window, the sound of breaking glass being loud enough and the smell of your blood that now ran down your arms surely alerted any other zombies in the area. But you kept moving once your feet touched the ground and started sprinting. You kept moving even as the tears streamed down your face as you left your teammates behind. 

You were the lone survivor. 

It didn’t take you long to notice the bite on your forearm just above your wrist once you got to a water stream and soaked your cut and bruised arms from breaking the window. You thought you were done for. That everyone else’s sacrifices were all for nothing. You wouldn’t be accepted back at the safe zone if you even made it back to the safe zone. Once you’ve been bit or scratched it takes roughly twenty-four hours before you start turning. The safe zone was two days away. You wouldn’t make it. 

Except you did. 

It’s now been a month since you’ve been bitten and nothing about you has changed besides the fact you have a random ass zombie bite mark on your arm that is slowly, but surely, healing. It will be one hell of a scar. 

You knew returning back to the zone wouldn’t work. They’d kill you on the spot. Or if they let you back in and notice you’ve survived a bite mark…you’d just become an experiment. Just like in every zombie video game and movie. 

So you took to the life of being a lone wolf. Doing everything—and meaning everything—you needed to survive. 

You continued your search of the hospital, gathering more medical supplies and any food left behind. Along with more ammunition(even if it was just a few bullets) for your pistol and any other weapons to add to your arsenal. As you passed by a window, you noticed just how low the sun was setting, meaning you needed to either get to a safe place within the hospital or attempt to find a nearby building or house that was safer. 

Because let’s be honest, who knew who or what was in this hospital still. And you sure as fuck weren’t going to be sticking around long enough to find out. 

You lifted up your sleeve to check your bite, seeing a small amount of blood staining the bandage. You quietly cursed, knowing you had to leave as soon as possible before something detected your blood smell. The only thing that sucked about the bite being slow healing, is the fact it still bled and was still infected. You needed to get treated, but that came at a cost that wasn’t worth it. 

You quickly and quietly slipped out the same way you came in, darting into the overgrown nature the world was now, your pistol in hand and knife strapped at your thigh. 

**3 HOURS BEFORE**

“Are you being serious right now?” Jay scoffed, staring down at Heeseung as his hands, and parts of his face were stained red. 

Heeseung smirked as he looked up at his younger friend, “Obviously.” he chuckled, “We are in the zombie apocalypse, If I want to dye my hair red, I will dye my hair red.” 

Jay stared down at the hair supplies surrounding Heeseung on the floor, “Where the fuck did you even find all this?” 

Heeseung shrugged, “I found them a couple of months back the last time we left the zone. Only just now decided to put them to use.” 

Sunghoon let out a low laugh. He was sitting at the kitchen table with an old Polaroid camera in his hands. The old thing was broken, but that didn’t stop Sunghoon from wanting to fix it and use it, “You’d think being in the zombie apocalypse, dying your hair would be the last thing on your mind.” 

Jake agreed, “We should be stealing supplies that are needed.” 

“And this was needed!” Heeseung rolled his eyes, “Who says fashion had to die with the world?” 

Jay always loved how positive his older friend was. How unaffected he was by this fucked up world. But with the way his world came to an end, Heeseung kind of had no choice but to grin and bear it. To shove the past away and live in the now and for the future. Also being the oldest and taking up that mantle to be the sole source of happiness and good vibes for the group, he was better than the rest of the boys living in this cabin. 

Jay knelt down beside Heeseung on the floor, eyes wandering between all the supplies, “Damn you used up all the red.” 

Heeseung just smiled, “Want me to dye your hair?” 

Jay lifts his hand to run it through his black hair, debating if it even would be worth it. It would add some fun to his life. But ultimately he declined, “We are going out.” 

Jake groaned, and flopped himself down onto his bed, “Are we seriously sneaking out tonight?” 

Sunghoon leaned back in his chair, draping his arm over the back, “What are we smuggling out?” 

Jay shook his head, “It’s what we are going to smuggle in.” 

Heeseung kept his eyes pointed at the small square mirror he had propped up against a bike of old books on the floor as he continued to run his red dye-stained hands through his hair, “What could we possibly be smuggling in?” 

“Drugs, obviously,” Jake said, rolling onto his stomach, “What else could we smuggle into the zone that isn’t allowed to be here?” 

Jay shrugged, “I got a tip that a building about an hour south from here, someone from a neighboring safe zone dropped the drugs off there. We smuggle that in and sell that shit, we’d have enough money to last us for months.” 

“And who the fuck tipped you off?” Sunghoon scoffed, hands going back to fiddling with his camera. 

“I swear to god if you say Yeonjun,” Heeseung said with a click of his tongue, “Man is higher than a kite half the damn time.” 

Jay just smiles, “Nah, it wasn’t from Yeonjun or his crew.” 

“Then who?” Jake asked with pure confusion on his face. 

“Probably Jungkook,” Sunghoon guessed, “He’s the only other person who would care enough about smuggling drugs into the zone. He probably got someone in the jail to run their mouths to even pass on this information.” 

Jungkook was one of the local police officers in this safe zone. He wasn’t a dirty cop or anything, he just understood that sometimes people need a getaway. That getaway is either hard-core drugs, or even the lesser ones. Ones that either get you fucked up, or higher than a kite like Yeonjun is half the time. Either way, Jungkook allowed these four to sneak in and out of the zone as they pleased as long as they didn't get caught or bitten. Because once they got caught, Jungkook would hold no power to protect them. 

Jay just nodded and stood up, “We leave in an hour. Like I said, it would take us an hour to get to where we need to go.” 

“Oh, good!” Heeseung cooed, “That gives us plenty of time to bleach your hair.” 

Jay scrunched his nose, looking at the box of hair bleach sitting beside Heeseung. 

“There’s a pretty cool blonde color you can use, I sure as hell won’t use it.” 

Jay rolled his eyes and sat down beside his friend, “Make it quick.” 

**10 MINUTES BEFORE**

Jay, Heeseung, Jake, and Sunghoon all carefully walked into the small village that is said to have the drugs. 

Each of the boys kept their eyes open for the building that was described to them, guns locked and loaded and ready to fire in case of any trouble. 

The moonlight and the few shitty street lamps that still somehow worked were the only source of light they had to light the village. 

It was quiet, a bit too quiet for Jay’s liking but a blessing nevertheless. The last thing he needed was having to actually fire their weapons and alert any zombies their way. 

“Where the fuck is this building,” Jake softly snapped, “I do not like being out here.” 

“That makes two of us,” Heeseung agreed, “I don’t like the vibes here.” 

Most of the world has been overgrown with grass, plants, vines, etc etc etc. Each city or town or village outside the safe zones wouldn’t be well kept and taken care of. But this place? The grass was cut. Only a select few houses and buildings had vines covering them. Someone or a few people were taking care of this place. Jay could only imagine it was whoever dropped the drugs off here. Or so he hoped. 

You also found the small village, taking a mental note of how clean it was when it shouldn’t be. You didn’t like it, but you needed to eat, clean your bite, and sleep. This place would have to do until the sun comes up. 

Most of the houses or buildings were locked or covered in vines, and since the undead stalked around more freely at night, you didn’t want to risk breaking a door or window and settled for finding one that was already broken into. 

You found your way into a building where the door was barely holding onto its hinges. You walked in, seeing that it used to be an old convenience store that was yet to be raided. 

Your heart quickened at the sight, wasting no time to pile what food, medicines, and other supplies you could into your backpack. It was like you hit the jackpot, your luck showing off. 

Your luck brought you an old tin box sitting on a small shelf under the register (that unfortunately had zero money in it). You gently shook the box, hearing what sounded like a plastic bag shifting about. After opening the lid, your eyes widened at the contents.

Drugs. Hard ones. Ones that would knock you on your ass and get you high as fuck. You dug through the plastic bag, seeing some of the drugs were for pain in high dosages, which was perfect for your bitten arm. God damn were you lucky. 

You shoved the tin into your backpack, ready to find a place to sleep when a noise coming from the back of the store jolted you to a stop. Your heartbeat quickened and your breathing became unsteady. Your hand on your pistol tightened, shaking as you quietly walked towards the back. You prayed and prayed it was just some animal, or the wind blowing through the broken windows. 

You turned the corner towards the bathrooms, only to be met face-to-face with an undead monster. 

The thing hissed and groaned as it saw you, lunging forward, arms stretched out and drool dripping from its opened mouth. The smell of rotting flesh was enough to make you want to toss up everything you’d eaten that day. You only had enough time to take a few steps back before tripping over your own feet falling completely on your ass. 

You haven’t felt fear like this since you and your old team members got cornered. The flashbacks of watching your friends get eaten and torn about filled your brain. You started to panic, thinking this was it until that sparkle of hope filled you once again. You raised your pistol up, aiming at the zombie's head, and pulled the trigger twice. 

“Please tell me you all heard that too,” Heeseung whispered, the sounds of a gun being fired echoed across the village. 

“Yeah,” Jay took a deep breath in, “I heard it too.” 

The boys quickly went in the direction of the sound, eyes glancing in every direction to keep watch of any trouble until they found the building they were looking for and found something they weren’t expecting to find—you.  

You barely got to your feet and turned around when the four men approached you, shotguns aiming directly at you. 

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” 

And that’s how you all ended up here, guns pointing at each other with every intent to kill. 

“She’s been fucking bit!!” Heeseung snapped, all four of the boys' weapons locking back into place pointing at you. 

“Shit,” Jay hissed. 

You lowered your pistol back at Jay, gritting your teeth, “It’s not what you think.” 

“Like hell it is!!” Sunghoon yelled, “I should put a few rounds into you right now!” 

Jay couldn’t explain it, but something felt off about this, about you. Your wrap was soaked in blood, but you can clearly see the blood has darkened in some areas of the wrap. Usually, a person who has been bitten turns within twenty-four hours. Your wound looks older than that. 

You whipped your weapon back to vampire fang, narrowing your eyes, “Shoot me and I’ll sure as hell make sure to get some rounds into you too.” 

“Sunghoon,” Heeseung sternly said, “Stand down.” 

Sunghoon locked his jaw and took a few steps back. Heeseung noticed it as well. The longer he stared at you, the more he could tell your bite looked too old. 

“Hoon, Jake,” Jay said, barely turning his head to look at the younger too, keeping his weapon pointed at you, “Go find what we came here for so we can leave, I don’t want to stick around long enough to find out if she has more friends here.” 

The younger too nodded, slowly backing away and then turning on their heels, running in different directions to find what they came here for. 

Heeseung and Jay kept their eyes on you. You knew once they got whatever they came for they would leave you here or kill you. 

You preferred the first option. 

“Fuck!” Jake yelled, finding the whole place empty, “Nothing is here!” 

Heeseung and Jay narrowed their eyes at you, you could read it all over their faces that they came here for what you found and shoved into your backpack. 

“Fucking bitch, plan to take those drugs to knock your ass out while you change? Maybe kill yourself in the process?” 

You showed your teeth, “What is it to you?” You snapped, “I found it first, fuck off!” 

Jay took a step closer to you, and you took two back, “We have a lot—and I mean a lot—of money riding on those drugs, hand them over before I kill you and take them myself.” 

“Might as well just kill her,” Heeseung scoffed, “It’ll be a blessing compared to what she’ll feel once the change takes over.” 

“It's not what you think!” you yelled again. 

Heeseung wasn’t listening, not really caring either. He’s had enough. They needed those drugs, needed that money to keep his brothers alive. So he stepped toward you quickly, sliding his shotgun tied to the strap behind his back, one hand gripping your wrists and the other at your backpack. 

He was too quick for you to process or make a move. It was obvious at the way your pistol left your hands and was kicked to the blonde, the way his knee bent into the back of yours buckling you to the ground, that his man had done this plenty of times. Has been in plenty of fights and probably killed multiple people. 

But you’d be damned if you were going to go down this easy. 

You slammed your weight to your back, to knock his hand off your backpack, then moved to the left, putting all your force into his side to push him off you. But his grip on your left wrist was unrelenting, his fingers held just above your wrap, slowly sliding it off. 

You managed to get him off you, sending him to his ass. You quickly stood to your feet, only to be met with your pistol touching your forehead, the blonde's eyes like fire burning into you. Jake and Sunghoon standing back behind him, pointing their guns at you again. 

“Heeseung,” Jay said, “You good buddy?” 

Your eyes darted to the redhead, watching as he stood up, eyes piercing. 

You looked back at the man in front of you, raising your hands back up, “Take the fucking drugs, this shit ain’t worth it.” It really wasn’t worth it. Even if you got away these four would chase you down until they got the box and killed you. You needed to survive for the sake of the friends you’ve lost. 

You kept your eyes locked with the blonde as Heeseung was now at your back, digging into it to pull out the tin box.  

Jay was about to pull away when his eyes darted back to your wrist, seeing the bite. Without thinking his free hand gripped your bitten wrist and pulled it forward, lowering the pistol to lift your sleep up higher. 

“Shit,” he hissed, “Guys, come look at this.” 

You were now surrounded by the four of them looking at your wound, every single one of their eyes widening. 

You also glanced down at your bite, it was obvious it was infected from it not being taken care of, but it was healing. And it was obvious that it was. 

“You’re immune?” The redhead said, his eyes now lifting to examine your face, “How is that possible?” 

Jay locked eyes with you again, then with his friends, “What the fuck have we gotten ourselves into?” 

—

Sneaking out of the safe zone with four people is one thing. But sneaking back in with four people while SMUGGLING another life and illegal drugs is another. 

The safe zone might be one of the biggest in the world, but everyone knows who Jay, Heeseung, Jake, and Sunghoon are. So with you standing in the middle of the four as you all climbed up through a hole that leads into an abandoned broken-down home and the face of a military officer staring back at you, your heart sank. And the looks of the four boys around you were evidence enough that you all just got caught. 

“What the actual fuck is going on?!” the officer snapped, his eyes filled with such a fire that I made you want to duck under the boys and back down to the hole and escape into the free world. 

“Jungkook,” Heeseung said, raising his hands up, letting his shotgun dangle from his chest, “Listen, man, we didn’t plan this either.” 

“You know they keep count of every mother fucker in this safe zone!” Jungkook snapped

“We know!” Heeseung snapped back, “But you’re going to want to see this.” 

Heeseung whips around to you, reaching his hand out for you to take it, nodding his head to move closer to him, “Come here, YN.” 

You glare at him, shaking your head. You still didn’t trust these four boys, why would you willingly hand over your secret to a military officer? 

Jake nudged you forward, stumbling over your feet and reaching for Heeseung’s hand anyway. 

Jungkook crossed his arms over his chest and it made your heart sink even more. The man was BUFF. His big strong arms flexed naturally and the tattoos that ran from his hand and up his right arm made him seem even more scary, like this man could snap your neck without breaking a sweat. 

Heeseung barely lifted your sleeve up to expose your bite and Jungkook was five steps back with his pistol drawn out towards you. 

What’s with everyone pointing guns at you today?

“You brought an INFECTED here?!” he yelled, the hell fire burning in his eyes raging more, “I should kill each of you right now for bringing her here.” 

Heeseung rolled his eyes and pulled your sleeve up further, “Fucking look!” 

Jungkook stared down at your arm, his gun slowly falling to the floor, “How can that be possible?” 

A question for you. 

You just looked down at the bite, shaking your head, “I don’t know.” 

Jungkook silently looked between you all, “Fuck!” 

He shoved his pistol back into the holster at his hip and paced back and forth, running his hands through his hair. 

“Get her back to the house, NOW!” he growled, pointing a finger at all four of them one by one, “Do not let anyone see her, you understand?” They all nodded, “Good, and make sure she fucking bathes and gets that wound cleaned up and wrapped. I’ll come by when I get my head straight.” 

You now walked even closer in between the four boys than what you were earlier, wandering your eyes to every person you walked passed, scared you’d be discovered. That feeling eased up a bit as they led you down an alleyway, then across another street before quickly shuffling you inside what you assumed was their home. 

Once the door was closed and deadbolted, you scanned their home. It was small, but big enough to house the four of them. 

There weren’t any rooms, so their four beds lined up against the west side of the house, with a couch across from it with a small table and a radio beside it. 

Their kitchen on the east side of the house was also small, fitting enough space for the normal kitchen essentials and a table for eating in the middle, a bathtub sitting in the corner. 

You were scared for a second about how these four use the bathroom but noticed outside the kitchen window an outhouse. 

“This used to be a storage house,” Jake said, dropping his body onto the couch, “The four of us fixed it up and made it our home. It’s not much, but it’s something.” 

It was definitely better than the places you’ve been sleeping in recently. 

Jay was now handing you a clean pair of clothes, “Wear these after you bathe, we’ll find you some that fit better tomorrow.” 

You thanked him and walked to the tub, dropping your backpack into a chair at the table. You stared at the tub with excitement. You’ve been without a proper bath since being bitten and the thought of getting a warm bath made your heart sink. 

You turned the hot water knob, watching as the clean water flowed into the tub. Most safe zones were lucky if they had clean running water and basically electricity. The bigger zones obviously are the luckier ones. Yours, on the other hand, had no electricity and water was so scarce there were designated days when people were allowed to bathe. 

Without another thought, your hands went to the hems of your shirt and slowly started lifting. 

“Woah woah what the fuck are you doing?!?” Sunghoon snapped, his heart racing at the sight of barely seeing your belly. 

“I’m fixing to bathe? I stink?” 

“And you are just going to strip in front of us?!?” Jake said, the clear blush settling in on his cheeks. 

You scoffed, letting out a laugh, “The world is ending as we know it and you’re worried about seeing a female naked? Shouldn’t you be glad to see it?” 

Jake sat in silence, his eyes now wandering to Heeseung and Jay, who kept their eyes on you, their reactions haven't changed since you first met them. 

“Well, I’m not about to be labeled as a pervert,” Sunghoon said, rushing back to the front door, “I’m going to sit outside.” 

“Yeah same here,” Jake jumped from the couch, following his best friend out. 

Heeseung finally looked at Jay, who was already staring back at him. 

You watched as their eyes communicated with each other in a silent language that you didn’t know. Then with a nod Heeseung turned and followed Jake out, closing the door behind him. 

Jay’s eyes were back on you, his facial expression still not changing. 

“What? Not going to follow your friends out?” 

He shrugged, “Someone has to make sure you don’t steal our shit and make a run for it.” 

You glared at him and scoffed, “I survived for months with less than what you have here, my safe zone didn’t have anything and I made it perfectly fine even after I was bit and couldn’t return back. I have no need for your stuff.” 

Which was true. You survived perfectly fine without the gifts the bigger safe zones had. And then with you having to hunt for your food and survive on less than your safe zone. You didn’t need his shit. You were perfectly fine. 

Jay just shrugged again, crossing his arms behind him as he kept his eyes on you. And you took it as a challenge. 

You slid your shirt from your body and let it hit the floor, keeping eye contact with him as your fingers went to your jeans, unbuttoning and dropping them to your ankles. 

Jay was completely unfazed as he looked at you with nothing but your sports bra and panties on. He was more focused on the scars that covered both your arms. 

“What are those from?” he asked. You already knew where his eyes were looking. 

“Happened the same day I was bitten,” you said, now looping your fingers into your sports bra and pulling it over your head, “I had to jump through a window before I got killed by our lovely undead friends outside the safe zone.” 

Jay wanted to ask about how you even got into the situation that led to getting bitten and jumping through a window. Shit had to have been rough. 

Jay continued looking over your body, eyes stopping at your breasts and then back up to your eyes. You smirked at him, “Not going to turn around?” 

He once again shrugged, “Like you said, I have bigger things to worry about than seeing a naked woman in front of me.” 

You quickly scanned him up and down, not seeing any signs that your almost completely naked body was affecting him, “Does it not bother you?” 

“It’s just skin, YN.” 

Fair enough. 

You dropped your panties to the floor and climbed into the tub, stinking your body in completely, letting the hot water fill you with warmth for a few seconds before turning the knob to stop the flow of water. 

Jay watched you relax, watched as your hands rubbed up and down your scarred arms. He wanted to press more about them, to ask how it was possible you even survived whatever happened, mostly with how your bite is clearly infected from not being taken care of properly. 

“Are you going to keep staring at me or what??” 

“Would you rather I sit down and whip my dick out?” he narrows his eyes at you. 

“Fucking prick,” you scowled. 

“Don’t ask stupid fucking questions then.” 

“We just met and you’ve already seen me naked and it had no effect on you yet you keep staring at me. I think I deserve to ask the “stupid” questions.” 

You just stared back at him, trying to read his face but getting nothing. 

To be honest, sex was the last thing on Jay’s mind. He’s been through way too much bullshit to let some random woman and her cunt affect him that easily. It’s not even that he was disinterested in sex, he had plenty of women around the safe zone that would drop to their knees so fast for him. Plenty of women he’s taken to his bed and pleasured them all night long. But sex wasn’t something he needed to survive like how so many other people in safe zones act like and turn to in a way to forget that the world went to shit. Jay couldn’t afford to let that happen with him. 

Plus Jay didn’t even know you and wasn’t some asshole to force you into sex with him all because you stripped in front of him. 

You eventually looked away from him, giving up on trying to read him, “Can I have a washcloth and soap?” 

Jay walked to one of the cabinets, pulled out a new bar of soap, a washcloth, and some old shampoo, and then handed them all to you, you mumbled out a thanks. 

You all of a sudden felt guilty, thinking maybe Jay possibly had a girlfriend or even a wife and you just bared yourself to him. But then wiped that thought off the table, there was no way. Because if he did he would be with them, not some smuggler. Then another thought came into your head and it was so simple: maybe he just didn’t find you attractive. 

You felt your self-esteem plummet and any confidence you had was out the window. You already figured you had a fair body, curvy hips, and busty breasts. The boy back home you used to fuck around with was always finding ways to bend you over. It boosted your ego, but maybe it boosted it too high if some random stranger’s dick didn’t get hard at the sight of you stripping in front of him. 

Jay read your expressions like a book, getting more confused than anything at why you’d let what he thinks affect you. You clearly were strong-willed and a survivor, already proving enough that you didn’t need the fancy things to keep surviving. So why let those small stupid thoughts affect you that way? 

Jay went to confront you, but the knocking at the door pulled him back, turning his head slightly to listen, “Jungkook is here,” Heeseung called from the other side of the door. 

Jay looked back at you, “You can go deal with whatever that is,” you said as you ran the washcloth over your arms, “I promise I won’t steal anything or go anywhere. Don’t know my way around this zone anyways.” 

Which was true, you were so focused on not being seen that you wouldn’t remember the way to sneak out. 

Jay just nodded, turning around and heading for the door, “Just so you know,” he said stopping at the door, “I might seem like a pervert for saying it, but you do have a sexy body, and don’t let anyone tell you differently or make you think differently. Don’t take it not affecting me personally, I truly have more important things to worry about than getting laid.”  

Then he slipped out the door, leaving you alone in the house. 

Jungkook stood on the grass with his hands on his hips, eyes wandering everywhere, making sure no one else was about to hear what he was fixing to speak about. 

“What’s up?” Jay asked, standing beside Heeseung. 

“Her bite mark,” Jungkook started, “It looks about a month old, ya?” 

All four men nodded, “It’s what she told us too, on the way here,” Jake said, “Don’t know how true that could be though.” 

“There’s been some rumors—strictly just rumors—that there’s been a few others that have been found immune,” Jungkook said barely above a whisper, his eyes continuing to dart around the area. 

“How is that possible?” Heeseung asked, “Three years and there has yet to be a cure to stop this madness and now you’re telling me there are others like her that are immune?” 

“There were others like her,” Jungkook sighed, “They either were killed before they got to the capital or killed themselves before being taken there. But again, it’s baseless rumors. No proof, until her.” 

Sunghoon scoffed, “Can we please get to the point of all this?” 

“Hoon,” Heeseung said with a warning. 

“I contacted the capital and told them we found an immune,” The four men stood in silence, staring at Jungkook, not knowing what to say or expect next, “So,” Jungkook was smirking now, “I have a job for you four.” 

Jake chuckled, “You’re fucking crazy, man.”

Jungkook shot him a warning look, a silent reminder of who he was and what his rank was, “At least hear my offer first before calling me crazy,” Jake crossed his arms and waited for Jungkook to continue, “One million. Each. If you drag her across the country to the capital.” 

One million. Each. That’s four million dollars. They would be fucking set, no longer having to worry about fighting for money to buy food and survive. No longer having to leave the safe zone to smuggle shit in and out for money. They would be safe to finally just live. But the problem lies in the trip. And that trip wasn’t worth it. 

“Nah,” Jake laughed, “You got me fucked up. I am a smuggler, not an escort. Make the government come pick her ass up. Not my circus, not my monkeys.” 

Everyone’s eyes were back on Jungkook. He shrugged, “They have other things to worry about besides making that trip to pick up one individual. Plus it would make a scene if they flew in here and just took her. It would make it obvious that there are immune in this world. It would cause a panic, give the people false hope for a cure.” 

Jay watched as each of his friends shook their heads, saying how it wasn’t worth it to drag a stranger across the fucking country to hand you over just for the possibility of a cure being found. 

They all talked over each other, Jungkook trying to convince them with all the money they would have, and the three others not accepting it. 

“Fucking hell, I’ll go alone,” Jay said without even realizing he was opening his mouth. 

“Jay, no!” Heeseung snapped, “That bitch ain’t worth it! We stick to our normal jobs!” 

Jay looks at Jungkook, “If I take her alone will we still get four million total?” Jungkook nodded, and that’s all Jay needed. 

“You’re fucking stupid, man!” Sunghoon hissed, “What are you thinking?!” 

“That we would be fucking set and not have to beg ever again for food or work our asses off in this stupid prison for money and food. To never have to worry about stepping foot outside this zone. To remain safe,” Jay didn’t realize he was holding his breath as he said that, taking a massive inhale in and clenching his fingers against his biceps, “When would we leave?” 

“Tomorrow night, It’ll give me enough time to let the capital know you accepted their offer and to gather enough weapons and materials for your journey.” 

Jay just nodded, “I am doing this, and you can’t stop me.” 

Heeseung gritted his teeth, “And what if they kill her the moment you hand her over?” 

Jay just shrugs, “Not my circus, not my monkeys. But at least we’ll have four million dollars.” 

—

You covered your hands over your ears, closing your eyes tightly. Your breathing was uneven as you heard your heartbeat in your ears, Jay’s voice was muffled and drowning out of the sound of your heartbeat and the screams of the undead surrounding the area. 

“YN!!” he said loud enough for you to hear him but quiet enough for the undead to not hear him, “YN, calm down!” 

You couldn’t hear him, you just knew he was speaking to you. The memories of being cornered in the building resurfaced. The sounds of your friends screaming, the smells of the dead, and the blood dripping from everyone. The visions of you feeling your best friend being ripped away from you. Everything was replying over and over. 

You started to hyperventilate, your every breath loud enough to draw the undead in your and Jay’s direction. 

Jay grabbed both of your wrists, trying to pull them from your ears, him repeating your name over and over again but nothing worked. 

“Fuck,” he hissed, taking a look around. The two of you were in a safe enough spot that the zombies wouldn’t be able to reach you, but once they found where you both were hiding…it was over. 

Jay placed his hands on top of yours, “YN, look at me.” But you didn’t respond, your breathing getting worse as the time ticked by. 

He was running out of ways to calm you down and get you to be quiet. His heart was racing faster as fear was overtaking him and his options running low. 

Jay slides his hands to your cheeks, his thumbs rubbing over the back of your hands at your ears. Without another thought, he moved forward. 

**A WEEK BEFORE**

Jay forced you to get as much rest as possible to be awake enough for the start of the journey to the capital. 

Jungkook said it would be a five-month walk there if everything went smoothly and no hiccups on the road on the way there. Or ya know, the two of you don’t get killed. 

The moment Jungkook knocked on the door to the house, Heeseung quickly answered, swinging the door open to let him slip in before anyone could see. 

He carried two backpacks filled with food, medicine, and weapons and ammunition. 

“This should last you both the five-month journey,” He said, pushing his tongue into the side of his cheek, “That's if you ration the food and the ammunition. Just don’t put yourselves into situations to have to use too much.” 

Jay scoffed, sliding the backpack onto his shoulders, “Don’t you know who you’re talking to?” 

Jungkook chuckled, pulling him into a quick hug, “Safe travels.”

Jungkook didn’t say another word as he darted out of the house, Heeseung closing and locking the door behind him. 

“You don’t have to do this,” Jake said with a shake of his head, “There’s no need to do this. We’ve survived perfectly fine before.” 

Jay has been weighing out his options ever since agreeing to do this. Always leaning toward taking this trip. He didn’t want to watch his brothers suffer anymore. Yeah they all weren’t struggling, but they would be so much better off once that money was in his hands. 

The amount of food they would have to fill their bellies, not having to worry about rationing. Not having to shove money away just to save up for the food, more clothes, and the other bills this safe zone forced on the residents here. They wouldn’t have to smuggle ever again. Jungkook could get off their backs about certain jobs. They would be free. 

“I have to do this,” Jay breathes, “I want to do this.” 

And hey, who knows? Maybe giving her off to the capital will make a cure and the world could be saved. Maybe. 

Sunghoon pulls Jay’s shotgun from the hidden closet, “Just don’t do anything stupid, ya?” 

Jay chuckled, “I’ll leave the stupid here with you three.” 

Everyone laughed but you and Heeseung, who stood at the door still and leaning against the wall, arms crossed and his face filled with worry. 

You have only known these guys for a short time, but you can tell each of them rely on each other for everything. Whatever terrible things these four had to endure before the outbreak and even after…they became family. Inseparable. Bonded for the rest of their lives. 

Jay pulled the younger two into hugs, saying how he’ll be back within a year. 

Heeseung pushed himself off the wall, dropping his arms to pull Jay into a hug, the older locking his jaw when he looked at you, “You come back in one piece, got it!”

Jay rolled his eyes, “You know I will Hee.” 

Heeseung pulled away, finally looking away from you, “She better be worth all this fucking trouble,” he whispers, eyes quickly darting to you to see you adjusting your backpack on your shoulders, “What will you do if they actually kill her the moment you get there?” 

Jay just shrugs, “Not my problem once the money is in my hands.” 

Heeseung sighs, “She’s still a human being. I can only imagine how life has been since finding out she was immune.” 

Jay tilted his head back to look at you, to look at the wrap that barely stuck out of your long-sleeve shirt. “She probably has been through hell to keep it a secret.” 

You look back up at them, “Ready to go yet or are you two going to make out before we leave?” 

Heeseung rolled his eyes, “Good luck with that attitude man,” 

Jay sighed, “Yeah. I’ll need it.” 

It didn’t take the two of you long to leave the house and quickly and quietly make your way back to the same tunnels and escape route you used to get into the safe zone. 

Jay helped pull you out of the manhole then kicked the metal plate back over it and locked it tightly. 

He swung his shotgun from his back to his front, positioning his hands in the right places before walking ahead of you, “Come on, let’s get this over with Miss Immune.” 

You snarl at him but follow behind anyway. 

This was the last thing you wanted to happen. To be turned into the capital. To be used as some experiment and plaything for scientists to gock over. 

“Might as well just kill me and get it over with,” you scoffed, keeping your eyes on the ground, stepping over everything Jay was, “They will just kill me eventually.” 

Jay shrugged, “You’re worth four million to them, they can do whatever they want after they have you in their hands.” 

“Such a gentleman,” you teased, “Did your mother ever teach you how to treat a lady?” 

He chuckles, “My manners went out the window the moment you pointed a gun at my head.” 

You glared at the back of his head, “Says the one that surrounded me with four shotguns and then pointed my pistol directly to my forehead.”

Jay said nothing in return and kept walking forward. Eventually slinging his gun back around his back, shoving his hands into his pockets. 

Neither of you spoke for hours as the night pressed on. The woods were quiet, a bit too quiet for your liking and the only thing making you feel at ease was the fact Jay kept his gun resting on his back and hands shoved into his pockets. He obviously knew these woods better than you. He was a smuggler, after all. 

Even after all the sleep you received back at the house, drowsiness found you anyway. You yawned and rubbed your eyes, “Can we find somewhere to sleep?” 

Jay didn’t realize how tired he was either until after hearing your voice, a yawn escaping his lips as well, “There’s a small shed we’ve used when our smuggling routes take a couple of days, we can stop there to eat and sleep.”

“How far is it?” you asked, not knowing how much longer you could actually go. 

Jay looks at the surrounding area before he answers, “About another hour.” 

You groaned but accepted it. Soon enough the small shed came into view. It was overgrown with vines and weeds but still stood strong. 

Sleep hit you the minute you dropped into the dusty cot, not caring enough to clean it. Jay did the same. 

The moment the sun started to shine through the shed, Jay woke you up and started the journey again. 

The whole day passed in silence, only speaking when spoken to and only stopping for food, bathroom breaks, and to rest. 

A week has passed when the two of you approach an old factory building. A long chain-linked fence surrounded the area. 

“Shit,” Jay scoffed, “We’ll have to cut through.” 

“Can’t just, like you know, go around?” it was such a simple question, yet Jay looked at you as if you asked the stupidest question in the world, “Fine!” you snapped, holding your hands up in defense, “You’re the one who knows better, right?” 

“We’d waste time going around,” Jay locks his fingers around the holes of the fence, “Every second counts, plus this place might have materials we can gather.” 

And there he goes, climbing up and over the fence, carefully dropping himself back to the ground and turning to face you, “Well?” he raised a brow, “Get your ass moving.” 

You roll your eyes and attach your fingers and toes of your boots in the loops, lifting yourself up, crawling to the top, and swinging your leg over the top, “Catch me?” 

Jay narrowed his eyes, “You survived by yourself for god knows how long before meeting me, and now you’re acting like you need help?” 

“I’m scared of heights,” 

“You’re fucking joking.” 

You smile, clearly loving how he reacts to your teasing, “Yeah I’m fucking with you,” you dropped down to the ground, Jay’s hands quickly resting on your shoulders to keep you from losing balance, “Learn to live a little, okay?” 

His glare was unrelenting as you walked past him, “I lived plenty before the world ended.” 

You watched as he hurried past you, wanting to ask what he meant. To know some part of how he was before the world went to utter shit. You were stuck with him for five months, might as well get to actually know him, right? 

You opened your mouth to ask him, only to be met with his hands now on you. One covering your mouth and the other pulling you to his chest, backing the both of you up against a truck, “Keep quiet, we have company.” 

Your eyes wander to where he was looking, seeing the few undead friends that lurked around the entrance to the factory. 

You pulled his hand from your mouth, catching your breath and assessing what to do. 

“We need to find a way around without alerting them.” 

“I already know that, YN,” he whispers, “The question is how.” 

Jay searched the area, pinpointing every safe spot that led to the door. 

“Okay,” he released you from his grip, “Stay on my ass.” 

You followed on his heels, holding your breath the entire way until his hands touched the handle of the factory door and pushed it open. 

You glanced around at your undead friends who stalked around, their bodies bunched over as they slowly dragged their feet with each step they took, grunts leaving their mouths. 

Jay peaked into the factory, the only light showing was from the windows, barely giving off enough light for him to confirm the opening at least, was clear. 

He carefully and quickly slid between the doors, reaching back out to pull you in behind him, closing the door and locking it for extra protection. 

You both took in the factory. It was a complete mess. Tables, papers, machinery, torn clothes, and everything in between covered the floors. The smell of this place was disgusting. The mixture of oils, grease, blood, and dead things—probably both humans, zombie, and animals—filled the air. 

You tried to not throw up your lunch, covering your mouth with your hand, “I don’t like it here.” 

“That makes two of us,” Jay said softly, “Taking a flashlight from his backpack, “Let’s get moving, and keep quiet, we don’t know what’s in here.” 

You followed behind him at a distance, eyes wandering over everything possible, looking for any material that could aid you both. But so far, nothing. Everything was either broken or just couldn’t be used. Nothing of help or a service to either of you. 

Jay had a bad feeling about this place, like whatever happened here was a lot worse than the remnants of this place give off. It was way too quiet to just be abandoned. His gut feeling told him to look for anything—and everything—possible that would stick out. Things that shouldn’t be here. He swallowed hard, flashing his light down to the floor, seeing scratch marks going in every direction, dried blood staining the tile. 

Then it clicked in his head. Everything made sense. 

This whole factory was a trap. 

This place wasn’t abandoned. Not even close. It was purposely left like this to lure in survivors, making them think they found a safe place to hide. Whoever ran this factory obviously wasn’t here, or else something would have already gone wrong. “YN,” he whispers, “This place is a trap.” 

“I know,” you said with a shaky breath. Jay was alerted to the tone of your voice, whipping around to see the tears swelling your eyes. He traced his eyes down, seeing the cord you’ve stepped on, “Something clicked when I stepped on it,” you tried to hold back the tears, to look brave in front of him, to look like a survivor. But you failed, the fear washing over you too quickly, “Jay,” you cried. 

“Shhh, no, hey,” he quickly gets closer to you, placing a hand on your shoulder, “Calm down, let me figure out what to do.” 

You nodded, feeling a tear slide down your cheek. Jay lifted his hand and wiped away the tear, cupping your face and tracing his fingers along your jaw as he walked away from you, following where the cord led. It was plugged into one of the machines. He wandered his eyes back to the other end of the core, following it back to your feet, and then continued to where it was plugged into the wall. Jay wasn’t stupid, he knew if he just unplugged the cord it would make the machine react. He and Jake have rigged multiple machines to still set off if unplugged. The only way would be to cut the cord completely. 

Jay knelt to his knees, setting the flashlight to the floor and sliding a folded knife from his pocket, whipping it open. He took a deep breath, counting down from three before folding the cord and cutting it. 

You cry out and drop to your knees, covering your hands over your ears at the ringing alarm that Jay set off. 

“Fuck!” He screamed, quickly standing back to his knees and rushing to you, “We need to fucking go, NOW!” 

Whoever this bastard was that rigged that trap was a damned genius, an absolute asshole, but a genius. To rig a machine to set off an alarm when cut? The more Jay thought about it as he dragged you back up to your feet, the more he realized the alarm would have been set off either way. Cutting the power in either way would have set the alarm off. 

The two of you barely took a few steps when the sounds of the undead surrounded the factory outside, because, of course, it would. That damn alarm just alerted whatever was outside—and inside—this factory. He needed to get that alarm off, and now. 

Jay dragged you with him to what looked like the office of the building, not wasting time checking for a button or way to turn it off. He whipped the shotgun around and sent bullets into every control panel until the alarm went silent. 

But unfortunately, Jay letting some rounds into the panel only sent whatever dead friends that were in the building to their exact location. 

Jay grabbed your hand and pulled you out of the office, running as fast as he could and praying your legs could keep up with him. This wasn’t the first time he’s had to run from these monsters, or even hide from them. It wasn’t a skill he wanted to mark off his checklist of survival but had no nevertheless. You’ve only had to run from them the night your friends were killed while you fled. Your legs felt like they were led to the memory coming back. 

You started to lose your breath, the fear covering every inch of you as you tried to focus on Jay’s back, on the warmth of his hand wrapped in yours. It worked for a bit as he dragged you down every hallway to find an exit. Worked until you both ran past a door, that just so happened to have zombies crawling inside it, who watched the two of you run back. 

You heard the crack of the door first, Jay heard it the second time. His head whips around to see the wood of the door barely breaking and see them pile out of the room. 

Jay acted fast, shoving you into an office room he prayed was safe. His eyes worked their magic, scanning as quickly as he could and seeing the room was in fact, clear. His hands only left you for a few seconds to close the door carefully, praying they didn’t hear it. But obviously, and because why would they not, heard the shut of the door anyway, alerting them in this direction. 

They ran past, obviously not knowing which room you two snuck into, but their loud groans, hisses, and whales were loud enough to send every zombie on this side of the factory toward this hallway. 

Which is how you ended up here. Back pressed to the wall, hands to your ears as you hyperventilate. 

He was running out of ways to calm you down and get you to be quiet. His heart was racing faster as fear was overtaking him and his options running low. 

Jay slides his hands to your cheeks, his thumbs rubbing over the back of your hands at your ears. Without another thought, he moved forward. 

He connected his lips to yours, taking in every breath you let out. You opened your eyes quickly, seeing him staring back at you. You focused on the brown of his eyes, focused on the way his lips felt against yours. Your heart rate slowed, and the shaking of your hands stopped. It wasn’t even like he was kissing you kissing you, he just held his lips to yours, unmoving. 

You waited for him to pull away, to pull away and tease you for being a scary cat. But he didn’t. 

His eyes slowly closed, quickly removing his lips and connecting them again, pressing his lips harder to yours. You also closed your eyes, kissing him back. Your hands at your ears, slipped down to his wrists, squeezing them tightly as he shifted his hands to the edge of your jaw, fingers gripping the back of your head. 

Jay doesn’t know what came over him, he only planned to kiss you once and have it be long enough to steady out your breathing. But something drew him in and he couldn’t stop. 

Jay licks your bottom lip, waiting for your mouth to open and let him inside. His tongue explored every inch of your mouth as you sucked on the muscle, savoring the taste of him. 

His grip on your face tightens as he softly groans into your mouth, clearly losing himself. Knowing he needed to stop but not being able to. The feel of your lips being addicting. 

You need to stop, you need to stop, you need to stop. 

The sounds of the zombies outside the door faded, the world finally becoming quiet and it was enough to make him stop. 

Jay quickly pushed away from you, sliding himself across the floor and to the other side of the office, completely out of breath. He brought his knees to his chest in hopes of hiding the raging boner in his pants, dropping his face into his palms, then running them through his hair. 

You took a few deep breaths, not taking your eyes off him. 

“We will give it time before leaving, to make sure everything is clear to leave,” he said, doing everything he could to not look at you. 

You nodded as if he could see it anyway. And not another word was spoken. 

—

It’s been two months since he’s kissed you. Two months' worth of him doing everything to not look at you, to not touch you. He barely has been able to even speak to you. Reminding himself over and over again what his true mission was: to hand you over to the capital, get paid, and get his ass back home. Nothing else mattered. 

Nothing. 

You dropped to your knees, wiping the sweat from your forehead, “Jay?” he ignored you and kept walking forwards, “Jay!” silence, “ASSHOLE!!!” 

Jay turned around, piercing holes into you with his eyes that were also on fire at you calling him an asshole. At least it finally got his attention. 

“I am tired,” you breathed, wiping the sweat that was already recollected on your forehead. 

“Okay, and?” he said calmly. If it weren’t for the fire burning in his eyes you would have thought he was actually calm. But Jay couldn’t afford to be nice to you, not when he’s fighting every demon within himself to not press his lips against yours again. Not when he has four million dollars waiting for him. 

You glared back at him, “I need rest? We’ve been walking for days straight and only took a couple of breaks to sleep for an hour.” 

“How the fuck did you survive alone for so long?” he questioned, starting to think maybe you just hid the entire time before they found you, “what happened to that attitude when we first met?” 

You stood back to your feet, quickly walking past him and shoving your middle finger in his face, barely grazing his nose, “Want my attitude? Here it is asshat.” 

Jay smirked as he watched you walk ahead of him, eyes without his permission moving from the back of your head down to your hips, watching the way they sway. Jay scoffed at himself, quickly dropping his eyes to the ground and rushing after you, “Smartass, you don’t even know where you are going.” 

You stopped walking, staring straight ahead. 

But Jay didn’t stop, and ran right into you, almost knocking you over completely, his hands quickly grabbing your shoulders. His rage settled in again, “What the fuck! Don’t just stop wa—“ 

“Long time no see, Jay Park.” 

He moved on autopilot, hands rushing to your waist and shoving your behind him in the same motion of wiping his gun from his back to front, finger itching to pull the trigger, “Same to you, Choi Soobin. What are you doing so far out from your zone?” 

The blonde smirked, “Was on a smuggle run, but shouldn’t I be asking you that question, Jay?” 

 A laugh from behind, “Yeah, aren’t you the one who is a little too far from your zone?”

You pulled your pistol from its holster, facing your back to Jay’s and pointing it at a blue-haired man. 

Jay narrowed his eyes, snaking one hand behind him to grab your shirt, pulling you closer to him, back to back, keeping his shotgun aimed at Soobin, “I am also on a smuggling run, Huening Kai, just passing through.” 

“You know,” a voice to his right, “This is our territory, there is just no passing through here.” 

Jay was barely able to glare to his right, seeing Beomgyu pointing a rifle at you and him. 

Then another laugh to the left of him, his eyes darting to see Taehyun walking closer, also pointing his rifle, “Jay, did you really think we wouldn’t have seen you two when you got close to our zone?” 

Jay just chuckled, not because of the fact they were even close to another zone, but because he let themselves get close to another zone. He was so caught up in trying to ignore you and push down his demons that he didn’t realize how close he pulled you both here. But he kept laughing, “What I think is Yeonjun is missing out, isn’t he? My feelings hurt that he isn’t here.” 

Soobin just smiled, “You think my brothers would just leave me behind?” Yeonjun said, finally making his appearance from behind Soobin, “That wounds me.” 

Jay just rolls his eyes, “Are we done here? I have important shit to do.” 

“Like what?” the blonde leader asked, his eyes darting behind Jay to look at you, “What are you smuggling, exactly?” 

You pressed your back harder against Jay’s, feeling his hand tighten at your shirt. 

Soobin just tilts his head, his smile growing wider, “Don’t tell me it’s the girl.” 

Your heart stopped and Jay kept quiet, not having a damn thing to say as a comeback. The only thing on his mind was to protect you, to keep you so close to him that he could fuse with you if possible. 

But Jay knew telling the truth, or well parts of it, was the only way to get around when it came to these five. Jay has dealt with them enough in the past to know how they work, “I’m taking her to the capital.” 

“Jay!” you snapped. 

“Shut up!” was his reply to you, “She’s important to the capital and I have been tasked to get her there. We honestly were just passing through, it’s my bad we got too close.” 

Soobin looked between the eyes of each of his brothers, each of them giving him nods and shrugs, “It’s getting late, don’t want you getting caught up with our…walking dead at night. Stay in our zone for the night.”

Jay wanted to say no, to say they were fine. But the death truth was they were running low on supplies. Needed clean clothes and showers. Your bite mark needed to be cleaned, which is why Jay thinks you’re been more out of it the last few days than normal. He knew you also needed some proper sleep and not being able to find any safe place in days to actually give you that rest killed him, “Fine. We leave at first light.” 

You wanted to protest, turning around completely to yell at him, to reject their offer for him. But all he did was grab your waist and pull you to his side, lowering his gun over to his shoulder and giving you the look of warning to keep your mouth shut. So you didn’t fight him. You needed to stay alive anyway, who knew what would happen to Jay, Heeseung, Jake, Sunghoon, and Jungkook if Jay failed to get you to the capital. And you didn’t want to think about it. So you clung to his side as everyone walked forward, Beomgyu and Taehyun standing at yours and Jay’s side as Kai stayed behind you, and Soobin and Yeonjun leading the way. 

“Where are your three stooges at?” Yeonjun asked, barely turning his head around to smile at Jay, “Not used to seeing you as a lone wolf.” 

You tuned out their conversation, keeping your eyes locked off into the distance, biting your lip to keep from talking. You don't know how Jay knew these five or why they obviously seem to be on bad terms, the last thing you needed to do was open your mouth and make it all worse. 

Huening Kai kept eyeing you and Jay, looking for anything possible to tell him more about what was actually going on with the two of you. Jay isn’t ever by himself without the other three. And Jay isn’t the type of person to smuggle a human, drugs and weapons were more his and his friend's forte, so why did he have you attached to him as if they were going to rip you away from him? 

“Ahhh,” Kai giggled, there’s feelings involved. He kept his eyes wandering, barely glancing over to your arm and back up to your shoulder before tracing them quickly back down, seeing the bandage peeking out from your long sleeve, “Haha! Holy shit guys! She’s been bit.” 

Just as quick as the five of them turned to face the two of you, pointing their weapons, Jay was pulling you to his chest and snapping your pistol from its holster at your hip and pointing it straight ahead at Soobin and Yeonjun. 

“Holy shit is right, man,” Yeonjun laughed, “No fucking wonder you’re out here alone, Jay. Going to the capital, my ass.” 

Fucking Huening Kai.

The grip on your waist tightened, Jay snarling at each of them, “It’s not what you think it is.” 

“Oh? It’s not?” Soobin hissed, his friendly cute persona being replaced with his cool, hard, leader persona, “Give me a reason to not kill you both right fucking now.”

“Because she was hurt,” Jay said quickly, “We’ve been traveling for two months. We had to climb a fence and she got herself caught. That’s it.” 

You could hear how fast Jay’s heart was racing in his chest, how hard his body went the moment Kai opened his mouth. He pushed you even closer to him, leaving no room between the two of you. 

The rage Jay felt course through his body was scaring him. The thoughts he had in his head on the ways he would kill all five of them just by pointing a gun at you. It was scaring him at the things he was willing to do to protect you. Scaring him because he didn’t understand why. 

“What does the capitol want with her then?” Soobin asked, clearly not believing the story, “What’s so special?” 

Jay just shrugged, “Beats me. And nor do I care to know. All I know is I’m getting a fat paycheck for getting her there.” The hurt you felt at his words when his actions towards you right now were the opposite. You felt confused. First, he kisses you the way he did back at the factory, then turns completely cold and now he’s got you pressed to his chest, grip unrelenting as he points your gun at the threat in front of him. Maybe all he really did care about was the money. 

To Jay’s surprise, each of them lowered their weapons, “There’s the Jay I know,” Soobin teased, “Let’s just get back in the zone before the dead decide to get us to join them.” 

Everyone walked in silence the rest of the short walk to the safe zone and to your surprise, they didn’t sneak back into the zone, their military guards just…let them in? You looked up at Jay, him already answering you in a whisper without looking back at you, “This safe zone is full of smugglers and corrupted police, it’s how they survive here. The normal citizens and police don’t know how corrupt it is. They are very very sneaky. It’s one of the most dangerous zones right now.” 

You didn’t answer. Just put your eyes back in front of you as you all entered the zone. Jay pulled you closer to him again, his eyes darting to every person who looked his way, who looked your way. 

“We have one room available for you two to share,” Soobin said pointing at the small building to his left, “We will come by tomorrow to let you back out of the zone. Until then I suggest you stay inside, or at least keep her inside. There are clean clothes and some fruit in there too.” 

They still don’t trust us. 

Jay pulled you along with him, the other five watching as the two of you entered the building. 

“What are you thinking?” Soobin asked Kai, who had his arms wrapped tightly across his chest, blue hair blowing in the wind as he narrowed his eyes at the building. 

“If she wasn’t bitten, then what could be so special that Jay protected her like that? Besides the obvious attraction, he feels. But something is off. The caption doesn't want just anybody, not anyone from this side of the country at least,” Kai took his chin between two fingers and looked up at the dark sky. Picturing the way your bandage was wrapped around your wrist, there was no way you weren’t bitten. It was wrapped in a way to hide what was there, not to cover up some wounds…unless, “She is immune.” 

Jay let you bathe first, him keeping his eye pointed out the window as he popped a grape into his mouth. He didn’t trust the five boys either, not when they stood in a circle in the same exact place, clearly discussing what to do about the two of them, “If you keep staring at them you’ll just give them more reasons to not trust us, we just need to get through the night.” 

Jay looks over at you, seeing the way you dangle your arms over the bathtub, resting your chin on white porcelain, “Neither I nor them trust each other and you’re worth a shit ton of money, I’ll keep him eye on them if I want to,” without another word, he looks back out the window. You sigh and resume your bath then get out and quickly change, letting Jay now soak in the tub. 

You fell asleep faster than you thought and it pissed Jay off. How could you sleep so easily? But the more he looked at your sleeping body, eyes darting to your bite mark, the wound no longer continued to bleed or be filled with pus but now red and irritated. The longer he looked, the more he relaxed, realizing you’ve been through enough shit. You deserved some actual rest. 

Jay couldn’t afford to rest though. He left the room, breaking the doorknob once the door was shut, securing a way no one else could get in to hurt you. Shoving his hands into his pockets, he left the building in search of food and other materials to replenish what you and he had used over the last two months. 

He hated being here. Jay spent enough time over the last couple of years smuggling shit in and out of this place. It’s the main reason why Soobin and his dogs don’t like him and his friends. One major rule of smuggling in this world is to stay out of other smugglers' zones. But hey, if the money was good, Jay and his team did it. 

Jay was barely able to walk away from a stall selling canned food when he ran into Yeonjun, “Was wondering if I’d run into you,” he smiled, folding his hands behind his back, “Should have known you’d be out restocking your supplies.” 

Jay just rolls his eyes, “What do you want? I have sleep to catch.” 

“Hmm,” Yeonjun hummed, following behind Jay, “I want to ask you again about your girl.” 

“She’s not my girl,” Jay hissed, “Just someone I am taking to—“

“I know she’s immune.” 

Jay turned on his heels quickly, pointing a finger into Yeonjun’s face, “Shut the fuck up! Keep your fucking mouth shut!” 

But he only smirked, “So our suspensions are true?” 

“No!” Jay scoffed, dropping his hand, “You can’t just throw around the word immune without it causing chaos, you know this, you dumbass.” 

Yeonjun shrugs, “You’re willing to turn your girlfriend into the capital so easily? When she has a gift everyone would kill to have? She isn’t safe out there.” 

Jay narrowed his eyes, trying to read Yeonjun’s face for any hint of what he was trying to pull. But then it clicked with him. Soobin is the one who usually is the head of the battle. The first to step up and say or do anything. Yeonjun is also attached to Soobin as his second. But the fact Yeonjun is here right now…without Soobin…Jay’s heart nearly stopped. He slowly backed away. They were planning something and Yeonjun was being used as a distraction. 

“You know the capital will kill her, Jay!” he chuckles, “They will kill her the moment you hand her over. Your precious love will die.” 

Jay stopped listening as he made a full sprint back to the room. 

—

Jay didn’t continue breathing until he stepped foot into the room, seeing you sleeping peacefully. 

He took a couple of deep breathes, placing a hand on the wall to steady himself, giving him only a few seconds of deep breathing before pushing off the wall and packing up both backpacks, “YN,” he calls to you, his heart rate increasing with each second longer you stayed here, “YN!!” 

You jolted awake, slowly lifting yourself from the bed and seeing Jay rushing around the room in a hurry, “What?” you barely were able to get the words out without a yawn creeping out afterward. 

“We need to go. Like now.” 

You didn’t like the desperation in his voice, and you sure didn’t like the way he was rushing around to gather all your things into the backpacks. Something was wrong and it made your stomach drop, “Why? What happened?” 

Jay told you about the encounter with Yeonjun, and how he thinks they are planning something, explaining how Soobin and his team work. You didn’t understand it. 

“How are you so sure they are even planning anything?” You asked, now following him around the room as he paced to gather everything, “They let us stay here?” 

Jay stopped pacing, his hands immediately grabbing your face, “They know you’re immune. And they are smugglers, YN. I know how they think. They are going to keep you here and probably sell you to the highest bidder, the thing those people would do to you…” Jay didn’t even want to think about what those nasty people would do. The worst thing is to use you as experiments to find a cure on their own without the capital which will result in killing you, or them using you as their own plaything, forcing you to produce offspring in hopes of more people being born with the immunity. Either way, he wasn’t going to let it happen. 

He couldn’t let them take you from him. Couldn’t let them harm you in any way. He was going crazy just thinking about it all. He stepped away from you, “Get your boots on and quickly.” 

You did as you were told, slipping your feet into the boots and taking your backpack from him as he walked to the door, peeking out the windows before waving you to follow him. Jay already secured an escape route. He’s slipped in and out of this zone enough times to know every escape route possible. 

He kept you tugged tightly to him as you both left the building, quickly slipping into the alleyway. To say you were scared was an understatement. You still didn’t fully understand what was going on, mostly on Jay’s side. He seemed so ready to hand you over for the money, what difference would it make if he just left you here? Why go through the trouble of getting you out of this place? 

“Jay,” you called for him, but he ignored you. Just gripping your arm tighter as he led you in and out and around different buildings and alleyways. Stopping anytime someone walked by or got too close, Jay held his breath every single time as if it would help hide the two of you. But before he knew it, you both were approaching the fence, seeing the hole he and his team has used to get in and out was not patched up, “Fuck,” he cursed under his breath. 

Jay ran his hands through his hair, then grabbed your arm again, pulling you down the fence line. Eyes searching for an opening. Every safe zone had one. A little door in the fence that would lead out in case of evacuation. You’d need a military card to get access for it to open, but Jay had ways to break it. 

You both finally reached that door, the keycard scanner blinking green, showing it was working. Jay dropped the backpack to the ground, pulling out some tools. 

“What are you doing??” You whispered, eyes darting to her surrounding area, “What if you set off an alarm like last time?” 

Jay chuckled, “I’ve done this before, the factory was rigged from the start.” It was the first time even talking about the factory. Jay used the screwdriver's flat end to pry open the lid, looking at the series of wires, “Time to get to work.” You watched as he cut wires and replaced them, the little flashing green light turning red, then flashing back to green and the door unlocked and slowly opened, “Magic.” 

You rolled your eyes, “We don’t have time for this.” 

Jay threw the tools back into the backpack, quickly standing up and reaching for your hand. The two of you were barely three steps out of the zone when five figures with tickets pointing directly at you two appeared. Jay flung you behind him, aiming his shotgun at Soobin. 

“Should have known you’d try to escape,” the blonde boy hissed, “Couldn’t leave well enough alone, could you?” 

“I’m NOT letting you keep her here,” Jay barked back. 

Taehyun chuckled, “Why does it matter to you what we would do with her here? Don’t you only care about the money she’s worth?” 

“I don’t see four million dollars in your hands, Kang,” Jay snapped, eyes burning holes into Taehyun’s chest but kept his gun aimed at Soobin, “And since I don’t see the fucking money, we’re leaving.” 

“Just think what the capital would do,” Yeonjun said, “Far worse than her staying safe here.” 

Jay gritted his teeth, “You wouldn’t keep her safe. You’d use her!” 

The smile on Soobin’s face told him everything he needed to know. They were going to use you in any way possible and you weren’t going to survive it and if you did, you wouldn’t be the same. 

The five of them took one step closer and Jay felt like he was about to combust, “Take one more fucking step and I’ll shoot!” He yelled, darting the barrel at each of them. 

“It’s five against one,” Kai teased, taking another few steps forward, “What the fuck are you going—“ 

One moment Kai was standing, the next he was on the ground, blood pooling from his thigh. His hands were quickly covered in his own blood as he put pressure on the wound, his blue hair sticking to his face from the sweat he had just broken out in. Teeth gritting and eyes that could kill were staring right back at Jay. 

Kai’s four friends rushed to him, each of them now looking at Jay as well, “I fucking told you to not take another step. I’ll kill you all if you so much as lay a finger or come near her!!” 

Soobin’s smile was gone and replaced with pure rage, “Get the fuck out of my safe zone before I blow your brains out and feed you to the zombies out there.” 

You locked your jaw, gripping the barrel of Jay’s gun and forcing him to drop it, “Let’s fucking go!!” You snapped at him, fingers gripping the sleeve of his shirt, and pulling him away. 

“You’re going to regret your choices, Jongseong Park!” Huening Kai yelled, his voice echoing into the woods, “ROT IN FUCKING HELL!!” 

Jay stopped listening as he was now the one gripping your waist and leading you into the dark dangerous woods, the sounds of Kai’s screams and yelps becoming a distant noise. 

Once Jay felt like it was safer, he removed his hand from your waist, and quickly walked ahead of you, “What the fuck was that, Jay?” You asked harshly, moving your legs to keep up at his pace. 

“I told them to not take another step, and he did. He’ll suffer for his actions.” Jay didn’t know what you wanted to tell you, he did what he had to to get you out of there and he didn’t care if you agreed or not. 

“You could have killed him!!” Jay just shrugs and keeps on walking. You clenched your fists at your side, digging your fingers into the fabric of your jeans. 

“This is life as a smuggler,” Jay finally said after a few moments of silence, “You sometimes have to pull the trigger to survive.”

“We could have just run out!!” 

“No,” he hissed, “They wouldn’t have allowed that! I did what I had to!” 

“And it was wrong!” 

Jay stopped to turn and face you, the clear desperation and anger still on his face, “I don’t regret doing what needed to be done in order to protect you. I wasn’t going to let those assholes hurt you.” 

You tried to read his face and look for any signs of the truth. There was more to this than him just protecting you for the money. You were filled with more confusion as you looked at him, trying to read his cold eyes, but still found nothing. Jay quickly turned away from you and continued walking. You tried multiple more times to get him to explain his actions, but he kept ignoring you. And you eventually gave up for the night. 

—

To say over the next few days you’ve wanted nothing more than to bash Jay’s skull into the next tree you see would be an understatement. His attitude towards you got worse. He started to ignore you even more and only spoke to you to ask and make sure you were okay, if you were hungry, tired, or needed any rest. Outside of that? It’s like you didn’t exist. 

You tried asking a few times about his actions at the previous safe zone, to see what even prompted him to make such a choice when you could have just run out. The gate was already open, so shooting Kai wasn’t needed to survive. There could have been another way. 

Jay tried to fight off every feeling he felt. Specifically towards you and the other five back at the zone. Half of him wanted to go back and kill them all for so much thinking about using you, the other half of him wished he didn’t have to pull that trigger. He struggled to understand his feelings for you, the protectiveness he felt, the need to hold you close to him and keep you in his eyesight the entire time, the want to kiss you again, to feel your warmth. Everything mixed so deeply within him and confused him. Where did the lines blur? And where did they not? Is he wanting to protect you for that fat paycheck he’ll receive? Or is it because he actually wants to protect you? Does he want to keep you close because he wants to close or because to make sure you’re safe and unharmed once you’re handed off to the capital? Does he want to kiss you again because he hasn’t felt that sort of affection in a while, or because he actually wants to? He couldn’t wrap his head around it. Or maybe he just wanted to shove the feelings away. 

Jay was still deep in thought when something wet landed on his face. He stopped walking to glance up at the sky. You also looked up, a sigh leaving his lips, “Looks like it’s fixing to downpour.” 

“We need to get somewhere safe,” you said, looking back at the man in front of you, still trying to read his face. 

Jay just nods, then looks at the surrounding area, “There should be a cave around here. Let's go.” 

You wanted to ask him how he just knows that there is a cave nearby. It makes you question how many smuggling missions he’s gone on. How many times he risked his life out there time and time again? From his attitude and cold demeanor, it’s obvious he’s done this more times than he probably wanted to even count. 

You followed him nonetheless, followed alongside a mountain that eventually a tall chain-linked fence got attached to, leading to a gate that was already opened with vines and grass growing around it. 

“Was this a safe zone?” you asked, “it looks abandoned.” 

“Because it is,” Jay sighs, “It was a smaller one, could only fit a couple hundred. It’s a shame what happened to it.” 

You followed him past the gate and slowly to the hole in the mountain where a massive steel door stood at the entrance of the cave, “What happened?” 

There was a panel on the wall beside the door, showing that it needed a code for the door to open. You were about to lose hope, thinking you’d have to find another place, but Jay reached his hand to the panel, pressing 0428, and the door slowly opened. 

“How do you know the code?” 

“Used to make smuggling runs here when it was still an active zone,” he doesn’t so much even glance at you as he walks inside, “The people who aren’t a part of zones, who are against the government and zones altogether, a band of them came through here, tearing the place apart and left no survivors.” 

Your eyes dropped to the cave floor, “How could humans do such a thing.”

Jay sighs, “I wish I knew. I’m not any better, being a smuggler and doing my fair share of…anyways, what happened to these people, to this zone, it haunted other smaller zones, forcing them to leave and join the bigger ones or flee to the capital.” 

You watched as the cave floor turned from rough stone to polished stone, your eyes lifting back up to take in your sleeping stop for the night. Jay hovered to the right of the wall, finding the power box and flipping the switch. Small lanterns covered the walls and ceiling. Multiple areas of the cave held beds lined to the wall along with showers, tubs, toilets, and kitchen appliances. There were a few areas that were for the children, toys lying on the floor and tables, and some of the beds. 

Children were murdered here. 

You grasped your hand over your chest, feeling how your heart clenched at the sight. 

Jay turns back to look at you, his cold eyes softening, “It was terrible. Heeseung and I got here just in time to see the bandits leave. It took everything for us not to fight them ourselves,” the look in your eyes told him enough how badly this place affected you already.

You took more glances around, “Why does it not look like—“

“Like it was torn apart?” Jay finished for you, dropping his backpack to the floor in front of one of the beds lined to the wall and setting his weapons onto the bed, “Because my team came here and cleaned it up, hoping someday it can be lived in again. We come back every so often to make sure everything is fine and clean.” 

You watched as he sat on the bed, dropping his face into his palms. The rain finally touched down and thunder sounded, the lanterns flickering softly. Jay sighs and quickly stands back up, digging through a drawer to light a couple of candles in case the power does indeed go out. You continued to watch his every move. How can this person be so confusing? So cold and so selfless and full of love all at the same time. You could see it in his eyes how it hurt talking about what happened here. Jay was barely able to sit back down on the bed before you started talking. 

“Why did you shoot Kai?” 

Jay rolled his eyes, “Can you shut up about it? There’s that cold again. 

You shook your head, “No! I need to understand!” 

“What is there to understand, YN? I warned them what would happen if they took a step closer, and look what happened.” Pure rage filled his eyes once again, his jaw locking tight. 

“There had to have been another way! We could have just left!” You took a deep breath, clenching your fists, “You could have killed them!” 

Jay scoffed with a smirk, shaking his head, “I could have, should have.” 

Now you were pissed off, “Why? Huh? Explain that to me. I am NOT worth killing over!” 

Jay shot to his feet, pointing a finger at you, “Don’t you fucking say that! You’re worth—“

“Four million dollars, I fucking get it, Jay. All I am worth is that four million,” he swallowed, not saying a word and he flexed his fists at his sides. It was your turn to scoff and smirk, “Not worth anything more than just to get your damned money.” 

“STOP talking like that,” he snapped. 

“Why should I?” You scoff again, “You’ve done nothing—NOTHING—but tell me and everyone else how much money I am worth. All you fucking care about is the mon—“ 

Jay couldn’t take it anymore, couldn’t think straight as his feet dashed to you, hands cupping your face and lips attaching to yours, slamming his body into yours with such force that it startled you. His lips moved quickly against yours, brows furrowing and eyes closed tightly as he was trying his damndest to slow his heart rate, to not take out every emotion he had into kissing you, but his body failed him as he stayed connected to you, your hands slowly reaching up to touch his wrists, and it was enough to send him over the edge. 

“You’re worth so, so, so much more,” he said between kisses, his hands dropping to your waist, “I can’t hold myself back when it comes to you, I want you near me all the time. It’s taken everything in me to not jump your bones every second of every single day.” 

You leaned more into him, accepting him and his truth that he was finally spilling to you after so long. 

“I don’t give a fucking shit about that money, the capital can fucking keep it. You’re worth everything to me and I am so fucking crazy about you.” Jay slid his mouth from yours and down to your neck, leaving small bites as he trailed down to your shoulder, his hands now under your shirt and quickly lifting it up and over your head. Your hands rushed to pull his shirt from him, needing to feel him skin-to-skin. 

You barely had his shirt on the floor when his chest connected to yours and lips back on yours, “I can’t get enough of you,” he whispers, “I can’t stop feeling for you. I want you. All of you. Please give yourself to me.” 

Jay never was able to call someone his own. He’s had girlfriends and flings, yeah, but never someone that was actually his. Someone he could protect and love with every ounce he had. And it took kissing you in that factory for everything to make sense. He met you for a reason, whether that was some wack chance of fate or luck. He was meant to go through the hell he did to find you. And he wasn’t going to let you go now. 

“I’m yours,” you whispered back, “I am all yours.” You’d be lying if you said you didn’t have feelings for him. That you longed to feel him kiss you again, to touch you, hold you, and everything in between. He’s driven you crazy since day one, you should have known how hard you would have fallen. 

Jay deepened the kiss even more, slowly pulling you back with him until reaching one of the beds against the wall, one hand reaching back up to your neck, then the other wrapping behind your back as he swiftly turned you around and laid you on your back, “Say it again,” he asked, his fingers tracing down your shoulders, pulling the straps of your bra down then sliding his hands underneath to unclasp it and toss it off to the floor, “say it again please.” 

You swallowed, staring up into his eyes. And for the first time, you were able to finally read him. He wanted you in every way, “I’m yours.” 

He slides his hands down to your jeans, unbuttoning them and looping his fingers between the fabric of both your jeans and panties and your skin and pulling them down, “Again.” 

You bit your button lip and smirked up at him, “Should I?” 

Jay stood on his knees, slowly unbuttoning and unzipping his pants, “If you want this dick, I suggest you do.” 

You watch him with lust in your eyes as he slides out of his pants and boxers, his hand wrapping around his cock as he leaned back to hover over you, pumping himself slowly, “I said again.” 

“I am yours.” 

Jay tucks his bottom lip between his teeth, hands going to your thighs and lifting them up, wrapping them around his waist and lining his cock up with your cunt. 

“You’re mine?” he breathes. 

“Yours.” 

Jay slides his hands up your body, clasping his fingers around yours tightly, pushing his hips forward until his cock is buried deep within you, “Mine, all mine,” he whispers into your ear, slowly sliding out and pushing back in. 

His lips kissed down to your neck as he picked up his pace, using your hands pressed into the mattress as his leverage to kiss your cervix with the tip of his dick, grinding into you hard. Your moans sent chills down his spine, edging him to fuck into you faster. God, you felt so good. He only dreamed what your pussy would feel like wrapped around him. It was as if your pussy was made for him, made to fit and take his cock so fucking good. His. All his. 

“Jay,” you moaned out his name, your hands now tangled in his dyed hair as one of his hands grasped your thigh, and the other on your face, “Are you mine, too?” 

“Oh, baby,” he groans into your neck, “I’ve been yours.” 

Thunder crashed outside, flickering the lights a couple of times before shutting them off completely. The candles are the only source of light. But it couldn’t have been more perfect. Yours and Jay’s moans mixed with the sound of the rain. His cock works against your sweet spot and nails dig into the plush of your thighs. He was going dizzy at the feeling of you, of the emotions you’ve made him feel. Your sex felt like heaven, you felt like heaven in this hell. 

“I’ll never let anyone hurt you,” he kisses your neck, “Won’t let anyone touch you,” kisses your jawline, “I’d kill for you,” finally kissing your lips, “You’re mine. All mine.” 

You kissed him back harder, pulling him as close as possible to you as you reached your climax, squeezing your legs tighter around his waist. 

“Fuck,” he hisses, “I’m gonna cum too,” he pumped into you faster, “call me yours, say my name, f-fuck, please say I’m yours.” 

You tightened your legs around him, kissing from his lips to his ear, “Jay, you’re mine. Mine, mine, mine.” 

He clenches his jaw and squeezes his eyes shut as he cums, “Shit, baby,” he slowly lays on top of you gently, breathing in your scent, and wraps his arms underneath you to hold you against him. He took a couple of deep breaths and chuckled, “I am so glad you stole our drugs that day.” 

—

you lay in his arms as he traced his fingers up and down your bare back, the rain still crashing down to the earth, it being the only sound you could hear besides the beating of Jay’s heart in your ear from laying against his chest. 

Jay leaned against the wall the bed connected to, his eyes scanning the empty safe zone, trying to remember how much life was once held here. How life sits here now. Jay let his brain wonder about the different possibilities and outcomes of this zone, debating what to do and how to do it. His train of thought derailed when you shifted yourself up further, laying your head into his neck, “I thought you were asleep?” 

You gently shook your head, “I don’t want to sleep and miss out on this moment.” 

Jay chuckled and leaned his head against the top of yours, “You need some rest, I’m here and won’t leave you.” 

“That’s not what I’m worried about, I just want to savor the moment for when you go back to being cold towards me once we leave here.” 

Jay chuckles again, “Baby, I won’t. I was cold to keep the lines from blurring and my heart from feeling, but look how that turned out?” 

You giggled when he slid his hands under the blanket you two shared and squeezed the fat of your ass, “Didn’t think you ever felt anything for me besides the money, you confused the hell out of me, Jay.” 

He pressed a kiss to your forehead, “I know, I am sorry.” You shivered, so he pulled the blanket up higher on your naked body, running his hands up and down your back to help warm you. 

Even though you’ve spent enough time with this man to know how he is, you still don’t know a lot about him besides the things he’s willingly shared with you. And since curiosity consumed you, mostly now that he’s accepted his feelings for you, maybe he’ll be more inclined to talk. Here goes nothing, “What did you do before the outbreak?” you softly asked while still treading on eggshells, “How was life for you before it?” 

Jay takes a deep inhale, holding his breath for a couple of seconds before letting it out and wrapping his arms tighter around you, “Heeseung and I were best friends before all this. Grew up together actually. His family lived across the street from mine, and being the only child, I attached myself to Heeseung fairly quickly.” 

You could see it. With how Heeseung and Jay relied on each other back in their home zone and even when they cornered you when you stole the drugs they were supposed to smuggle, the two of them stuck to each other. 

“He became like my older brother, and I am a younger one for him. When the outbreak first happened, Heeseung and I…” he took another deep breath in, and you felt how tense his body became under you. So you reached a hand up to his chest, feeling that tension loosen, “We were fucking around with a few other kids in our town, shooting hoops at the court while passing a blunt between each of us. I was actually supposed to be grounded, I smart-mouthed off to my parents. I stuck out my bedroom window and jumped into Heeseung’s car and we went off to the basketball court. We were there for roughly thirty minutes before the first bomb dropped to take out the infected.” 

You remembered the bombs very well. Remembered the sirens going off. People were going crazy to try and leave town to escape it. Only very few were lucky to get out. And since the two of you were lying here together, it was obvious you two were part of the lucky ones. 

Jay continued, “Heeseung and I never ran back home so fast, only to see our street was completely…gone. We lost our families, and if we didn’t sneak out…we wouldn’t be here right now. The only thing that kept me alive to this very day was Heeseung. If I didn’t have him…” 

“Jay,” you whispered, lifting yourself up to press the side of your face to his, “you have him, don’t think about what could have happened. You have him, and always will.” 

He took a couple of deep breaths, leaning more into you, “I know. I’m lucky to have him as a brother. Same to Jake and Sunghoon.”

“How did you meet those two?” 

Jay laughed, “We found them in an abandoned grocery store.” 

You tried to not giggle, but let it out anyway, “Are you serious?” 

“I am being so deadass,” he laughed more with you, you falling in love with how he smiles and the sound of his laugh. This Jay right here, this was his true self, “It was roughly about four months after the outbreak, so still before the safe zones. Heeseung and I were running low on food and we stumbled into a grocery store praying for food but finding Jake and Sunghoon with every food item possible shoved into the back corner of one of the offices hoarding it all for themselves.”

You just nodded, “Yeah from the small amount I know about them, that sounds about right.” 

Jay agrees, “It was a sight to see that’s for sure. It took them everything to not kill us. They were held up there for a couple of weeks before we found them. But eventually, we got them to share their food and they just…followed us out of the grocery store when we left a day later. The four of us have been together since then.” 

“Sounds like you guys found each other at the right times. They say you always find the people you need for your life at the right time regardless of the situation.” You slid back down, lying your head back on his neck, “Just like how you found me.”

Jay squeezed you tightly, “I have to agree with that statement. It’s like I am your god or something.” 

You playfully slapped his bicep, “Oh shut up! You needed me just as much as I needed you.” 

“I did, I needed you so bad and it took me meeting you to realize it.” Jay now slid down the bed, lying his head on the pillow and pulling you fully against him, resting his forehead against yours, “The four of us traveled for days to get to the safe zone we are at now. It was still newly built and just redeemed safe to let people in. Been there since, obviously, and eventually, we are where we are now. Being smugglers to keep our place and food in our bellies.” 

You looked into his eyes, seeing all the hurt and pain he’s been through and even put himself through to continue to survive. To keep breathing. Jay kept fighting to stay alive for his brothers and kept going for someday finding more of a reason to keep his heart beating. He found that reason the moment he saw you. Even though you were pointing a gun to his head. 

“You’ve fought long enough, Jay,” you whisper, brushing your lips against his, “Please take the money when you hand me over.” 

Jay scoffs, “YN—“

“No,” you interrupted, “Take it. It would help you and the others. You all don’t need to fight anymore.” 

Jay just looks back at you, wondering how the fuck could he just take that money and run. To leave you with the capital. He couldn’t do it. He won’t do it. 

“I’ll find a way to get the money and bring you back home,” it sunk your heart hearing him call his safe zone your home. You had a home again. With him, “That way we can be set and I don’t have to leave you.” 

You softly kissed him. Moving your lips so gently against his. His hands moved from your back to your waist and pressed your body against his. 

Jay was home. Jay IS home. And you’d take up his mantle of fighting to protect him now. To keep him safe. Jay deserves it more than anything. 

—

To both your and Jay’s surprise, the next three-month journey was actually really smooth. Jay didn’t know if he should be worried or relieved that everything had gone smoothly. He’s tried to keep a positive mind, to push out that smuggler mindset he’s been in for years, wanting to be a better man for you. But Jay knew even if he wanted to drop that life, he was going to have to keep up that fighter persona. That protectiveness. There’s no doubt Soobin and his dogs already ran their mouths about you being immune, spreading the word to anyone and everyone they could. Probably more than likely putting a bounty over Jay’s head because of him shooting Kai. Jay had to start thinking more clearly about his future, about yours, if he wanted to keep the both of you alive for that future. Because he can’t live without you now, and he refuses to let anyone take you from him. 

You walked ahead of him, your palms facing outwards, brushing your fingers over the flowers and grass that grew tall, loving the way it tickled your hands. To say you’re happier than before would be an understatement. Jay finally confessing his deep feelings flipped a switch within you, like you have something more to live for besides just simply surviving for your fallen friends. At the start of this journey, you refused to let the capital take you, to use you as a curse for everyone else. But after meeting and falling in love with Jay…knowing that if he somehow gets bitten one of these days…the cure that would come from you would save him. You didn’t care about saving everyone else, just as long as you could save him, that’s all that mattered. 

You glanced up ahead, and the building you assumed was the capital, came into view. It looked like an old hospital. Overgrown with vines and weeds. If you didn’t know what to look for, you would have assumed this was just like any other normal old abandoned building like the rest of the world. But Jay gave you details on what to look for. 

“Looks like we finally made it,” You said, turning to look at Jay. He looks at you, then at the building, giving a nod. You started to shake, the fear of going inside taking over. You didn’t know what to expect. How will they treat you? Would it be filled with old doctors or politicians who think they know what is best for the world? Many more questions rolled through you and it took Jay taking your hand into his for your train to derail. 

“It’s going to be okay, I won’t let them hurt you, I promise,” And Jay meant it. He will stand beside you every step of the way. Letting the capital take what was needed then getting the hell out of there and back home. 

Jay leads you to the entrance, staring up at the camera that hangs from the ceiling above the door. Jay waved a hand at the camera, “Hello?? How do you expect to get people in and out if there’s no way to fucking knock??” Glad to see Jay didn’t completely go soft on you. You giggled at his straightforwardness, squeezing his hand. 

The door sounded with a click and opened. Jay squeezed your hand back before taking a step in, leading you in behind him. The entrance was dimly lit halfway, completely colored gray with hospital signs hanging to the walls. If you didn’t know any better, you would have figured this place was a disaster waiting to happen, that no soul would be living here. But that changed once the entrance expanded out into what looked to be the lobby of the hospital. The gray turned to white and bright lights filled the room. You didn’t have time to process the new brightness when seven men appeared in front of you and Jay. Not like magic or anything, your eyes just couldn’t adjust to the bright lights in time to see them approach. 

Jay gave each of them a nod, “Nice to see you again, Shotaro, Sungchan, Wonbin, Sohee, Seunghan, Eunseok, and Anton. Been awhile.” 

You followed Jay’s head movement to each of the seven of them, taking in their names and faces before looking over at Jay confused for a solid few seconds before remembering that Jay has been to the capital a few times in his life, of course he knew the people here. 

“Pleasure to see you, as always,” Shotaro said to him, giving a nod back, “See the trip here didn’t kill you.” 

Jay just chuckles, releasing his hand from yours, “It’s going to take a lot more than some zombies to take me down.” Jay knew joking with these people would be the best way to fit in and get things done. Shotaro and his crew were different from Soobin and his. Two different types of personalities here. 

“I am assuming this is the immune one?” Sungchan asked, tilting his head. His eyes scan your body up and down then stop at the bite mark on your wrist. You ditched the wrap and long-sleeve shirts back at the cave zone, the summer weather being too hot to keep up with it. Your bite was pretty much healed, no longer infected, and just looked like a normal wound in healing. 

“I have a name,” you growled at him, “I’m not just some “immune one” or whatever.”

All seven of them smirked at you, making you cling to Jay’s arm, “Feisty one, isn’t she?” Wonbin chuckled with a raise of his brow, “You sure know how to pick’em, Jay.” 

Jay just tried to give them his best smile, “This is YN. And yes she’s the one Jungkook called and talked to Namjoon about.” 

Namjoon?

“Joon is busy in a meeting,” Sohee sighs, “He told us to apologize on his behalf and welcome you into the capital.” 

Seunghan added, “He had to step in the moment you walked up to the door. He truly wants to meet you two here.” 

“We were expecting seven more of you though…” Shotaro said with his eyes scanning the two of you, “Where are your other six?” 

Jay shrugs, “They had other important matters to take care of, so I volunteered to make the trip myself.” 

“Ahhh,” Eunseok cooed, “I sometimes forget the seven of you are the best smugglers down in the southwest.” 

“Best of the best,” Jay awkwardly smiled, wanting to get this small talk over with, “Are we going to stand and wait for Namjoon to finish his meeting or???” 

Shotaro bowed a bit, “My apologies, you two must be exhausted from your long trip,” He stood back upright, “Anton, please take our friends to their rooms.” 

“We’ll share one, thanks for the thought though,” Jay was quick to say. 

Shotaro just looked back and forth between the two of you, and then the realization hit, “Ahh! You two are a pair. That’s…interesting considering Jay was a lone wolf when it came to mating.”

Jay just rolls his eyes at the comment, “People can change. You’d know if you left the capital more.” 

Shotaro just keeps his wide smile on display, “Anton.” 

Anton nods, waving the two of you towards him, “We saved the best rooms possible for you,” Jay leads first, dragging you close behind him, “We’ve also given you badges with access to every floor and room in the building. Given as a thanks for your sacrifice, YN. You’re doing the world a massive favor by coming here.” You just nod, confident that you’re only doing this for Jay to protect him, “We have a meeting set up for you to keep with one of the doctors later this evening, to kinda help ease your mind about all this.” 

You didn’t care and stopped listening to Anton explain everything. All you cared about was getting to the room to shower off the outside smell, dirt, and grime. To get in fresh clothing and get a much-needed nap before this place runs you left and right with tests. 

Anton finally let you into the room, handing off the badges to Jay, and with a nod, he left, closing the door behind him. The room was obviously small, being that it was an old hospital room. But it was still cozy, very bedroom-like. Paintings hung on the walls along with a medium-sized dresser with a mirror atop sat in the middle with the queen-sized bed right beside it and the bathroom sitting off to the left of the room. You made your way to the dresser, opening the first drawer to see plenty of clean undergarments for all genders, the second drawer was sleepwear, and the third and fourth drawer was filled with normal everyday shirts and jeans. You pulled pieces of clothing from each drawer and rushed to the entrance of the bathroom but stopped. 

“Can I shower first?” you asked, turning to look at Jay who was sitting at the edge of the bed, holding an envelope, “Jay? What’s that?” 

He looks up at you, “It was slipped under the door after we walked in. It’s the money they owe me for bringing you here.” 

You swallowed, watching as he opened the envelope and pulled out the cash. Jay felt like his heart nearly stopped at the amount of money he held in his hands, fingers slipping through each bill to make sure it was real and the actual amount they said they would give. And sure enough, it was. 

Jay looked at the cash and slowly put it back in the envelope. You could see the gears turning, “Don’t you even dare think about not taking it.” 

He looks at you, was he that obvious? “YN, baby, I can’t take it.” 

You quickly rushed to him, grabbing the envelope and shoving it deep into his backpack, “You came all this way for this, don’t back out of it now.” 

Jay stood to his feet and pulled you to him, “I don’t care about the money! I’ve told you before that you’re worth so much more than money.” 

You cupped his face, “You and the six back at home need this money, think about the life you can give them once we go back. Please don’t give it up.” Jay knew you were right. He made this trip in the first place all for his brothers and the money that would help give them a better life. So he nods, giving you a soft smile and picking you up into his arms, carrying you to the bathroom. 

“We’re both stinky, let’s wash off, ya?” He said, placing kisses all over your face and kicking the bathroom door shut. 

—

The rest of your day was filled with following around one of the seven boys to multiple different stops with Jay close on your heels. The first stop was the cafeteria for lunch, eating the best chicken sandwich you think you ever had. The second stop was to one of the labs for some doctors to draw your blood and give you some juice and five minutes of sitting before sending you on the way. The third stop was the meeting with the doctor who explained the procedure of the blood being drawn from the first stop and how taking from the bone marrow during the procedure and then talking about somehow mixing other things to create the cure? You were no scientist nor a doctor and you couldn’t remember how they find cures in all the horror and survival movies you’ve seen in your life to even get close to knowing how it would work. Jay looked just as confused as you did. At least you all were on the same page. Somewhat. The fourth stop was back at the room, where you and Jay cuddled and took a good hour nap before Sungchan knocked on the door saying it was time for dinner. 

You two ate with the seven boys, them explaining how Namjoon was once again tied up and couldn’t make it to the meal to greet us. Jay just waved it off. He didn’t care about any more meetings, he just wanted to eat and go back to the room. The day was tiring, the whole trip was tiring. Tomorrow would more than likely be another busy day and all you wanted to do was change into your pajamas and hit the sack. The seven of the boys talked a lot, made a lot of jokes, and continuously teased Jay for being in a relationship as if it was such a hard thing for their minds to process. You tried to laugh at everything, to understand the jokes. You weren’t sure if it was the nerves or your exhaustion making it hard to play along. Thankfully dinner finally ended and you found yourself back in the comfort of your temporary room. 

“There’s only silk lace gowns in here?” You sigh, digging through the whole drawer to find a pair of pajama pants and a shirt, “Why are there ONLY silk lace gowns???” 

Jay peeked over your shoulder, his hands reaching around you to pull an emerald green gown out of the drawer, “I mean this is the capital, everything here is probably fancy in some form.” 

You take the gown from his hands with a sigh, “It’ll have to do I suppose.” Jay just gives you a small smile and nods as he backs away and sits on the bed, untying the laces to his boots. 

You glanced back at the silk gown on your hands and up to Jay. Maybe you were reading a bit into it, but why did he choose this color? Out of all the pretty colors in that drawer, his eyes went to this one. You tried to push down the thoughts, remembering the time back at the safe zone when he said your naked body was just skin. How he didn’t have time to deal with these types of things. But he was also in a relationship with you now? The two of you never discussed what you were after sex that one night. He’s made love to you multiple times since then but still never once said what you both were. Maybe he was just bullshitting when he saw you naked the very first time, but then again he didn’t see you in that light before. Maybe again you were just overthinking it. He’s never seen you in such clothing, so maybe that’s why he chose this color, maybe he wanted to see you in it. 

You decided to stop thinking too much about it and slowly stripped out of your clothes, dropping them down to the floor with a thud, causing Jay’s eyes to lift up to you as he started on his second boot. You kept eye contact with him as you slid the straps of your bra down your shoulders and unclasped the back, holding the bra in place on your breast as you pulled your arms through the loops. Jay’s eyes left yours and went to your breasts, watching as you dropped the bra to the floor. His body tensed. You had him wrapped around your finger. His eyes shot back up to yours, his face still so calm and collected. You finally pulled the laced emerald silk gown over your head and onto your body, fitting strangely well to your frame and tight in the right places. 

You slowly crawled into the bed and laid down, his body shifted to face you as you got comfortable on the bed. Jay was losing his mind and was fighting his demons to keep from jumping you and ripping that pretty little gown off your body. His mind wanders to all the things he wants to do, where he wants his hands, and where he wants his mouth. He stood from the bed, sliding his feet out of his boots, and pulling his shirt from his body. You bit your lip at the sight of his torso, how his tan muscular skin moved as he reached for the button on his jeans, the tint in his pants was enough to tell you that you did affect him. That this color was chosen on purpose. 

Jay dropped the jeans to the floor then crawled onto the bed and hovered over you, “You look way too damn good in green, you should wear it more often, baby,” all you could do was nod and rub your thighs together. Jay glanced down at your legs, a smirk falling to his lips, “Want me so bad you can’t form a sentence?” 

“Jay,” you whispered, “Please.” 

He bent down and kissed you, his right hand already touching the ends of the gown, “You’re so sexy,” he breathed between kisses, “You know that?” You didn’t have time to respond as his lips left yours to trail down your neck and then to your shoulder, biting softly at your skin, loving the way you squirmed underneath him. His hand was now under the gown, slowly riding up your thigh. His moved down lower, leaving opened-mouth kisses down to your collarbone, between your breasts, and down your stomach, both his hands were now under the gown and sliding up and up, bunching the gown at your waist, “I’m craving dessert, and you look just like something I want to eat.” 

You gasp at his words, feeling your slick pool in your panties. Jay slid down to your heat, spreading your legs apart, clicking his tongue at the wet spot, “Already so wet for me? I haven’t even touched you yet.” It was driving him crazy seeing you already soaked for him. How much more perfect could you get?? He rubs his knuckle against your folds, pushing the lips apart as he digs his knuckle further in, “So wet for me, baby,” he coos, licking at his bottom lip. Jay didn’t think he could wait much longer, he needed your taste in his mouth. To devour you. To make you cum against his tongue. God, it’s all he wanted at this moment. Jay looped his fingers at the hems of your panties and you lifted your hips up as he slid them down and threw them to the floor to be completely forgotten about. 

Jay lifted your legs onto his shoulders as he settled back between your legs, using his index and ring fingers to spread your cunts lips, “fuccckk,” he groaned, loving how some of your slick was slowly dripping out of your cunt. Your hands flew to his hair when you felt his tongue press flat to your heat, licking up and stopping at your clit and wrapping his lips and tongue around the sensitive bud. 

“Shit, Jay!” you moaned, gripping his hair tight between your fingers. His hum of pleasure vibrated against you, making your toes curl into the sheets. With his other hand, he slid two fingers into your hole, pumping in and out of you slowly. Jay could get lost in your pussy, could stay here for hours if he didn’t need oxygen to continue breathing, licking up every ounce of your juices you could offer to him. You clenched around his fingers and gripped his hair even tighter, letting out soft moans at the feeling of him on your clit and cunt. 

“Be louder, baby, I want to hear you,” he breathes, taking a few deep breaths in before attaching himself back to your clit, sucking on it softly and pushing his fingers in and out faster, keeping your lips spread with his other fingers. You were getting dizzy at the sensation, brain clouding and his fingers and lips being the only thing you could focus on as you chanted out his name over and over. It was magic to his ears, truly. The best sound he’s ever heard next to your normal voice. 

He detached from your clit and replaced his fingers in your hole with his tongue, reaching so far into you that his nose was now rubbing your clit along with his middle finger. The knot of your climax was about to snap. You tried to hold on for as long as you could, waiting to savor this feeling but also wanting the sweet release it would give you. Jay wasn’t giving you much of a choice, not with how he worked his tongue in your cunt and his finger on your clit. His whole job here was making you cum on his tongue, and he wasn’t going to stop until he got what he desired. So you gave in, letting the knot snap in two and your body shuddered. Jay moaned against your cunt, licking up every last drop of your cum with his tongue, “Fuck you taste so good.” 

He left soft kisses on your heat and both your inner thighs before hovering back over you completely, “You’re such a good girl for me, my sweet, continue being good and take this cock, ya?” you quickly nodded, reaching for his boxers to slide them off him. He chuckled as he helped you remove the last bit of his clothing, “impatient are we?” 

“Jay, just please fuck me already, I need you.” 

He clicks his tongue, smirking at you, “Gotta give the lady what she wants, right?” 

Not another word was said as he slides into you, fucking you already so hard and fast it made your overstimulation way worse. But it was so—so—good. He kisses you, forcing his tongue down your throat, getting a taste of yourself as you sucked on his tongue, wrapping your muscle around him in a perfect dance. Jay wrapped your legs around him and pinned your hands above your head, squeezing them tightly as he continued to rock his hips against yours, kissing down from your lips to your ear, “You’re stuck with me, understand?” he breathes, his breath sending chills down your body, “I love you, YN. I am so in love with you.” 

Tears filled your eyes as you wrapped your legs and released your hands from his and wrapped your arms tightly around him, squeezing him so tight against your body, wanting to feel every inch of him against you, “I love you too. Oh god, I love you too.” 

Jay moved faster, “Say it again, tell me you love me again.” 

You did, you chanted how much you loved him over and over until he was spilling his seed deep within you. So out of breath but continued to kiss all over your face and slowly rock his hips against yours to chase out his high. If this is what it felt like to be in love with Jay and be loved by him, you didn’t need any other emotion ever again. 

—

Jay rolled over, stretching his arm out on your side of the bed, surprise took him when he didn’t feel you there, running his hand up and down the spot you should be in. He fluttered his eyes open, the early morning sunlight shining against the paintings on the wall and the gray wallpaper. Jay lifted himself on his forearms and elbows, the cool air sending chills down his bare back as the blanket slid down to his waist. He looked at the spot you slept in, tracing his hand back over it and realizing the sheets were cold. You’ve been gone for a while. 

“YN?” Jay calls, thinking maybe you were in the bathroom, seeing that the door was closed, “Baby?” 

No answer. Jay lets out an uneasy sigh, clearly not liking the silence of the room. He sits up and pushes himself to the edge of the bed, pulling his boxers off from the floor and stepping into them, and snapping them at his hips, “Baby?” He tried calling again, walking to the bathroom door and carefully knocking, “YN, this isn’t funny.” Jay quickly opened the door, seeing the bathroom was empty. 

Panic started to settle in. 

Jay tried to keep calm, hoping you were just at the other labs the doctors and other officials of the capital have said. But all the hope was gone when Jay turned around, barely catching his naked top half in the mirror, seeing the red and irritated skin at the edge of his back right under the shoulder, the small puncture wound still clear and visible. He was drugged. And you were taken. 

Jay quickly rushed back into the room, pulling his clothes onto his body and picking up his backpack from the floor, noticing yours was still sitting in the same spot. Jay felt the panic deep in his core. You wouldn’t have just walked out of the room without telling him or bringing him with you. Jay’s suspicions only got confirmed after seeing the weapons from your and his backpack was missing. 

“Shit,” he mumbles, looking in the corner to see his shotgun was also missing from where he placed it against the wall. Jay dumped out everything from the backpacks and drawers, trying to find any weapon possible that they might have overlooked. But everything was gone. The only thing he found was the snacks and other foods and water the two of you had been carrying the whole trip and the white envelope with the money in it. Jay wanted to tear the money into pieces, to burn this whole place down from them taking you from him. He was going crazy and needed to find you, and fast. He pulled everything back into the backpack, combining your stuff with his. Jay took one last look at the envelope and then shoved it into the backpack. 

It was one problem after the other when he tried to walk out of the room to find the door was locked from the outside, “FUCK!” he screamed, taking multiple steps back and rushing to the door, connecting his shoulder to the wood. Step back, ram the door, step back, ram the door. repeat. repeat. repeat. Jay shook out his hands and arms, giving it one last final shove and the door pushed open, the locks and doorknobs falling to the floor. 

The hallway was dark except for the sunlight peeking through the windows. Not a damn soul was around. It was so silent you could probably hear the tectonic plates shifting within the earth. Jay treaded lightly, locking his jaw and clenching his fists as he slowly walked down the hall. This hospital was so full of life just yesterday, and now it’s like everyone is gone. This place once again looked abandoned before the capital officials took over. Jay figured it was before everyone knew the minute he woke up and saw you gone, all hell would break loose. Jay should have known. Should have listened to everyone who told them what would happen once he got you here. They were going to kill you. And he needed to stop it. 

First, he needed his weapons back. Following the signs on the walls leading him to the armory. There were two guards on watch when he reached it, “Fucking typical,” he whispered to himself, “All for little ole me?” Jay knew Namjoon was more than likely on high alert, knowing what moves Jay would be making and how he’d make them. Jay and his team aren’t the best smugglers around for nothing. He crouches down, slowly inching himself to the guards, assessing them before making another move. They both had knives and pistols attached to their hips with rifles in hand. Jay didn’t have a lot of time to come up with a solid plan and acted quickly. All the years of surviving had led to this. All the years of killing before getting killed. Learning how to be sneaky and how to lie through his teeth as he stole and picked pocketed his enemies. The person he had to become because of this apocalypse. All led him here. Once Jay was close enough, he quickly stood and broke out into a sprint. The first guard didn’t know what was happening by the time Jay reached him. His hands wrapped around his head and twisted, his body going limp at the crack of his neck. Jay worked fast before the guard's body hit the floor, stealing his knife and shoving it into the other guard's side between his ribs. 

“Now you will give me the information I seek out, got it?” he hisses, “Or you will end up like your friend over there, ya?” 

The guard trembled in Jay’s hands, his eyes darting to his now-dead friend on the cold hospital floor, “What do you want?” he tried to snap back, but it was not having any effect on Jay whatsoever. 

“Where is she?” Jay growled against the man’s ear, “Where. Is. YN?” Silence. Jay pushed the knife in further, the guard gritting his teeth to not scream at the pain, “Where the fuck is my girlfriend?!” Jay was yelling now, no longer playing these games. 

“Second floor, last room on the right side,” the man grunted out, “But it’s too fucking late,” Jay’s heart stopped, “They already began the procedure before sunlight even came, busted in right after you two slept,” you’ve been gone a lot longer than he thought. His panic sank further, “They took from her blood until she passed out and drugged her to stay asleep,” the guard chuckled, “She was a walking cure factory.” 

Jay shoved the knife deeper, “Is she alive?” The man groans in pain, “I SAID IS SHE STILL ALIVE!?” 

“YES!” he hissed, “But not for long. Her blood was only doing so much. They are going to go for her bone marrow now. Going to use every last drop she can give until she’s no longer breathing.” 

The man started to chuckle, but those chuckles changed into gurgles and he gasped for air before tipping over to the floor. Jay’s hands were trembling as he looked down at them, seeing the dark red tint staining his skin and the pool of it now covering the floor where Jay shoved the knife into the side of his neck. Jay swallowed and released a few deep breaths, recollecting himself and noticing his clothes now stained red. Jay sized up the first guard, thank god he looked to be about the same size as him. 

Jay was quick at changing into the guard's uniform, stealing his pistol, knife, rifle, and keycards. Always take the keycards, you never know when you’ll need them. He rushes into the armory, finding your pistol, his shotgun, and both your knives, shoving the smaller items into the backpack, and sliding his shotgun over his shoulder. Before Jay realized, he was stepping over the two dead guards and was up the stairs, making his way to the second floor. His legs shook all the way down into his boots. Trying to push out the images of the two lives he just ended. Jay has killed before during smuggling runs, but it never will get easier or something he’d get used to. This world created all this chaos and turned everyone into monsters. No one had a spot in heaven. Hell was the only final destination. 

The jitters left once both feet touched the second floor, and the rifle pointed upwards. The only thing on his mind now was you and praying he wasn’t too late. The floor was silent until he reached the corner of the building, where four guards were stationed outside the room. This was it. You were just behind those doors, hopefully still breathing. Jay didn’t want to think about what would happen if he went in there and saw you dead. The things he’d do…

You barely blinked in and out of consciousness, the bright lights shining on you from the ceiling were blinding, only being able to see white and the blue of the two doctors' lab coats. They talked between each other, not being able to make out any of the words they spoke. Your body hurts. Your head spun. Were you fixing to die? Where was Jay? Why did you feel so cold? Why did they take you from him the way they did? So many questions piled up in your brain. Jay is the main source of the questions. The main one was that he was safe. That he takes the money and runs so far away from here. That you died for this fucking cure in hopes if anything happened to him he wouldn’t turn into the undead outside. He could survive and have a better life than before. Your thought process was interrupted when both doctors looked down at you and asked a question. You didn’t know if you answered them or not, or couldn’t remember if you did. There was a poke on your wrist, and everything went fuzzy and your eyes closed. 

“She’s asleep again,” one said, setting the syringe down on the table behind him and checking your vital signs on the monitor, “Vitals are normal and steady, we can—“ the doctor stopped speaking, whipping his head to the entrance of the room. 

The other doctor looked at the one across from him, then turned to look at the door, then back to him, “What's wrong?” 

“You didn’t hear that?” he asked, his eyes widening. 

“I think you’re being paranoid, let’s continue.” 

He didn’t take his eyes off the door. Nor did he even have time to think about what happened next as Jay kicked the door open, his rifling pointing directly ahead. The doctor barely had time to see the dead bodies as the door closed behind Jay. Blood coated Jay’s face, hair, and clothes. 

“Joon said he’d be out the whole fucking day!” the doctor closer to Jay shouts, reaching for the surgical knife on the small tray table. 

“Don’t fucking move!” Jay snapped, “Back away from her!” 

The two doctors moved, their hands raised above their heads. Jay looked at you. Your skin was pale and your lips purple. Bruises covered your arms and bare legs, proof enough that you didn’t go down without a fight. You were hooked up to multiple different types of IVs. Jay tried to find any sign that you were breathing, eyes whipping to the monitor, watching as your vitals dropped. All Jay saw then was red. You were dying. He was losing you by the second. He couldn’t waste any more time. So he pulled the trigger. Their screams and voices were muffled out by the buzzing in his ears from the anger and the fear of losing you. He can’t lose you. 

He dropped the rifle to the floor once the room stopped spinning, his legs dragging him to your side, hands immediately grabbing for you. Your skin was cold to the touch. He hissed out from the pain in his chest, the pain of his heart clenching thinking you already were between the lines of life and death. Praying you weren’t. 

“Baby,” he whimpered, tears swelling his eyes, “Come on, YN, please wake up.” Jay softly shook you, placing his ear over your mouth, feeling your breath push out. It was weak. So, so very weak. “Baby don’t leave me, please.” Both his hands cupped your face, thumbs stroking your cheeks, “I can’t live without you, please.” Jay searched the room, removing himself from you to pull open all the cabinets and drawers in search of some drug to get your heart pumping normally again. Anything to get your vitals back up. He found what he needed and rushed back to you, with an empty syringe, “Forgive me, please,” he begged, pulling out the drug with the syringe needle, and filling it up, “Forgive me for bringing you here. For gambling your life like this. I am so so so sorry.” With shaky hands, he finds a vein in your wrist, “I love you,” and gently pushes it into your skin, injecting the clear liquid into your body. Jay whips his head to the monitor, watching your heart rate pick up and your vitals start to normalize. He drops the syringe and falls to his knees, running his crusted red-stained hands through his blonde hair. 

He doesn’t know how long he sat there like that. It wasn’t until you shifted on the table that he jumped back to his feet, coming back to reality and needing to get you out of there. Jay removed the IVs from your arms, bandaging them up and brushing your hair from your face, “Baby?” you fluttered your eyes, still too out of it to really open them. You knew Jay was finally with you, or that you were dreaming. Or even dead. You felt the warmth of his touch, heard his voice, and were barely able to make out his face. But he was here, nevertheless. Jay pressed a quick kiss to your forehead, “Let’s get you out of here.” Jay found your clothes and redressed you with them, tossing the hospital gown across the room. Jay took a final look at the room, seeing the vials filled with your blood and other chemicals. There were at least thirty of them. All were marked with tape that said “cure”. “Those bastards.” he hissed in his brain. But the longer he stared at them, the angrier he got. 

He carried you in his arms, rushing down to the ground level of the hospital, looking for a quick and easy way out. It was easy. A bit too easy. It was unsettling for Jay, something was off. It shouldn’t be this easy. 

“Jay?” you softly whisper, feeling his strong arms squeeze you tighter. Finally becoming more aware of the drugs slowly wearing off. 

“Shhh, It’s okay baby, I’m right here,” he whispers back, eyes darting in every direction, waiting for something to happen. And then it did. 

“Leaving without so much as a goodbye?” 

Jay stopped walking, his jaw clenching. You both were almost to the door, so close to leaving. But he turned anyway, seeing Namjoon standing there with his dimpled smile and hand folded behind his back. Shotaro, Eunseok, Sungchan, Seunghan, Wonbin, Sohee, and Anton standing directly behind him with guns pointing at Jay and you. Jay gritted his teeth, “Nice to see you finally made your appearance.” 

Namjoon chuckled, “I am a busy man, what can I say? Being the leader of this operation is very time-consuming. My apologies for not being there sooner.” Jay just stared at him, holding you tighter to his chest, “I believe you have something of mine,” Namjoon said with a sigh, stepping forward, “Give it back, please.” 

Jay barked out a laugh, “She doesn’t belong to you. Or anyone for that matter. And we’re leaving.” 

Namjoon inhaled, held his breath for a few seconds, and then released it, “You don’t understand what’s going on here, Jay.” 

“Oh like the fuck I don’t!” Jay yelled, taking a few steps back, “You’re killing her!!” 

“A sacrifice that I am willing to make,” Jay hated the straight face Joon was making. Hated how he seemed to be okay with ending your life, “She is special, Jay. She is so important to finding a cure.” 

“Then go find someone else that’s immune!” Jay snapped, “Leave her out of it!” 

Namjoon smiles, “She can save so many lives. Think about the people we can save, at her sacrifice. Think how the world can and will heal because of the sacrifice. Everything can go back to normal and she will be so worth it.” 

Jay clenched you tighter, “The world can fucking burn. She’s worth more than whatever righteousness you think you have by doing this to someone innocent.” 

“We aren’t innocent,” Joon sighs again, “This world made us into hunters, killers, and survivors. No one is innocent.” Jay didn’t want to hear it anymore. He wanted out, now. So he took more steps back, giving his glare locked on Namjoon and the seven guys behind him, “You’re making a mistake,” Joon said, following Jay, “Just give her back…” 

Jay quickly shifted your body to his side, pulling out the pistol at his hip, “Take one more step and I’ll fucking kill you.” 

“Like you did to my guards?” 

Jay said nothing, his fingers going numb from the grin he had on your belt loop to keep you pressed against him. You whimpered, the pain finally settling into you as the drugs wore off more. You clenched your arms around his neck and wrapped your legs around his leg, trying to hold yourself up against his hold, “I’ll kill who I have to to keep her safe.” 

Namjoon could see the desperation on Jay’s face, and just gave him another smile, “Go then. Just know you’re a wanted man the minute you walk out of those doors.” 

“Joon!” Shotaro quickly said, earning Namjoon to hold his hand up to silence him, then waving Jay to go forward. He slowly took the steps back, waiting until his back touched against the doors, and pushed it open, the pistol still pointing directly forward. Namjoon continues smiling even after Jay closes the door, leaving them in the lobby alone. Namjoon had enough samples of your blood to create copies. He also knew Jay would be heading back to his safe zone quickly. Namjoon will get you back. But this time by force. 

—

Jay slid the open window carefully, using his strength to push and pull himself up through the kitchen window, carefully climbing his way into the house. Jay barely touched his feet to the floor and turned around to see Heeseung pointing a gun in his direction, “What the fuck! It’s just me!” he whispers, “Watch where you point that thing!” 

Heeseung groans, “Why the fuck are you climbing through the window!!” He snaps, pointing to the front door, “You know how to use that right!!” 

Jay just looks at his brother up and down, being able to tell he’s lost weight since he’s been gone. The three of them all probably lost weight. Heeseung’s red hair was now completely washed out, leaving some patches of a soft pink color and some blonde streaks. Cuts and bruises covered Heeseung’s arms. He looked rough, and Jay could only imagine how the other two looked, “You’ve been struggling, haven’t you?” 

Heeseung scoffed, “Yeah, no thanks to you, Mr. Wanted man,” Jay raised a brow and Heeseung just sighed, “We know what happened at the capitol. I’m sorry for what they did to YN. We all should have gone with you.” 

Jay just shakes his head, “No. I almost lost her. I wouldn’t know what to do if I lost her AND you three.” Jay didn’t want to think about what could have happened. He was back home and was safe and that’s all that matters. Jay asked Heeseung how they found out. Namjoon apparently wasted no time in radioing to Jungkook. Which Jay already figured, hint why he climbed through the window. But Jungkook was furious. The whole safe zone went on lockdown for a few months, but when Jay didn’t return directly after five months, everyone assumed he was either dead or not coming back. Jungkook limited the access Hee, Hoon, and Jake got to outside the zone. Not giving them many smuggler missions and even halving their paydown. The three of them struggled all in terms of punishing Jay. 

Heeseung sat at the table and Jay sat across from him, “Where is YN?” 

Jay took in a breath, “At the caved safe zone.” 

“That’s where you’ve been for half a year?” Heeseung didn’t mean to add the venom that came out when he snapped at Jay, “You settled down with your girlfriend and decided we weren’t worth it?” 

Jay slapped his hands on the table, “That’s NOT what happened!” Jay looks over to Sunghoon and Jake’s bed, seeing them still sleeping, and relaxed in his chair, “I knew they’d be coming for me. And I needed to protect her. Needed to give it time before leaving to come back to get you three.” 

“Get us?” Heeseung asked, folding his arms over his chest. 

Jay nods, “I already figured this place would be on a tougher lockdown. Had to find our other secret way that even JK doesn’t know about. Mostly after I saw our main hole was drilled shut,” he sat back, “I kept the money they gave me to take her there. And I stole all the vials they filled with her blood for the cure. I have plans, but I need you guys with me. Those two months in that cave were only to help YN recover better. The three months of getting her to that cave were hell on her. After what they did.” 

Heeseung nodded, only being able to imagine what you went through, “So you want us to leave and go back to the cave with you?” Jay nodded, “Why did you even leave her alone?! What if Namjoon finds her?” 

“She knows how to use a gun,” Jay quickly said, “We both know that. I showed her all the exits and safe places to run to just in case. It was a bigger risk bringing her with me than leaving her.” 

Heeseung thinned his lips in a line, staring at the table and weighing out the options, “What’s this plan?” 

“We sell her cure blood to those in need. Sell all we have and keep our refuge in the abandoned zone a secret. We use the money we have from the capital and from selling her blood to use for goods, clothing, weapons, and whatever we need. We find another zone to smuggle for, probably with Soobin and his team, and just survive.” 

“Just like we always have,” Heeseung softly says, looking at Jay, taking a few more seconds to think it over, “When are we leaving?” 

“Right now,” Sunghoon said, dropping his backpack to the table, “You guys really don’t know how to fucking whisper.” 

Jay chuckles, seeing Jake right behind him with his backpack, “About time we spread our wings from this hellhole,” Jake joked. 

You stood outside the metal door, rocking back and forth on your feet, it’s been months, they should have arrived already. You walked in circles, then went back inside just to walk in more circles around the cave. You cleaned up a bit and laid down to take a nap, just to barely close your eyes but not fully being able to sleep. 

You stood back up with a sigh and walked back outside. Standing there for what feels like forever until you see them. You couldn’t hold back the smile as Jay, Heeseung, Sunghoon, and Jake walked past the gate. You broke out into a sprint. Jay dropped his weapons and backpack to the ground, bending his knees and spreading his arms out, catching you as you jumped onto him. His arms squeeze you tightly and his lips connect to yours. 

The smile his brothers gave you two makes your heart feel warm. Jay sets you down and pulls his three friends into a big hug before snapping orders for everyone to get inside. 

These people were your home now. Your family. Jay gives you a smile as he tangles his fingers with yours, after everything you two have been through, he was worth it and more. It was just your luck that you stumbled into his world. 

—tags: @alvojake @simpjaes @itachisloverlol @minseongsworld @heeseungshim @allysluvsworld @nyxtwixx @jjaeyunist @in-somnias-world @zeeloveshee @sunpov @xiaoderrrr @butterflywonie @sundoie @cmoundiamante @jentlecoeur @reign-reads @parksunghoonsgf @sparklovespink @wannieepisod @crimnalseung @ilikekpop-c @capri-cuntz @jwnghyuns @kimsunoops @blackhairandbangs @jjongswannabebae @lazy-miya @m3chigo @en-happiness @wonniethepoo @ikeuverse @woninluv @desistay @erehkinnie30 @peachystels @jinspinkflipphone @abysofsteel @randommmmmmvheusbs @minjaexvz @soobywiththebooty @wonryllis @shinrjj @star4rin @iheartjayke @0ctav1asstuff @jakeswifey @hanjisunginc @jinspinkflipphone @jungwonsbabygirl

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

[bywons]

SO ROMANTIC 、 pjs

𝐎𝐑 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄， 𝗃𝖺𝗒 𝗋𝖾𝗆𝗂𝗇𝖽𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝗊𝗎𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾

❪ 𝐌𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐙𝐈𝐍𝐄 ❫ ｡ 𝗁𝗎𝗌𝖻𝖺𝗇𝖽!𝗉𝗃𝗌 𝗑 𝖿!𝗋 1O14 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿 .✿ 𝗄𝗂𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗌𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗉 贅沢 𖥔

REBLOG FOR  ⁠◜⁠‿⁠◝⁠  KISSES

“do you still love me?”

jay looks offended, deeply offended, and if they handed out oscars for the most disturbed-looking husband on a random thursday afternoon, he would’ve walked up to that stage with a speech memorized. no hesitation.

he lowers the hammer in his hand, lets it drop onto the half-assembled desk with a dull clunk, and wipes his forehead with the back of his arm, smearing a bit of sawdust across his temple.

“i literally married you,” he says, breathless, as he steps near you, sitting on the edge of the bed.

“yeah but people marry people,” you sigh, putting on a faux sad expression, “but do you really love me—”

“darling, i’m literally building you a wooden vanity closet,” he cuts you quick in your sentence, his eyes wide, “and it has been three hours now. i wouldn’t do that for anyone else.”

you press your lips together to keep from laughing. “you look good doing it though.”

his jaw ticks, he knows not to lose his patience, especially when you are all cute and testing it. he still thinks your question is ridiculous, of course he loves you. he loves you way more than the effort he’s putting in the vanity, and it’s not even one percent of what he’d do for you.

“my back hurts.” he sighs yet again

“because you love me?” “because i’m married to you,” he deadpans, rolls his eyes and strawls closer to you.

you pout. it’s exaggerated, a little playful. “so you don’t love me?”

jay huffs, then drops to his knees in front of you with a thud, on the bed. his hands settle on your thighs, sawdust and all, and his fingers press into your skin gently, grounding.

he looks up. his eyes are warm, but serious. intense, even.

“you drive me insane,” he murmurs. “you leave the shower light on. you forget where your charger is every day. you sing off-key when you think i’m not listening.”

you breathe stops, and before you can muster up a sentence, he says again.

“and i love you like i’m sick with it.”

you feel like your stops, with blood rushing up to your cheeks you really don’t know if you can handle this anymore. his thumb brushes over your knee.

“and if you say dumb shit like that again,” he says, voice low, “i might have to marry you again, just to prove a point.”

you open your mouth, ready to sass him back, but he leans in before you can.

his hand finds your waist, warm and rough from hours of sanding wood. his other hand cups your jaw, thumb brushing the corner of your mouth like he’s mapping it out. like he missed it all day. like he needed this more than food or rest or sanity.

and then he kisses you. not a soft peck. not a tired brush of lips. it’s full. warm. deliberate.

his mouth slides against yours like he’s finally off the clock, like this is his reward — the only thing that makes the bruised knees and splinters and forgotten lunch worth it.

your fingers twist into his shirt instinctively. his thumb brushes down the side of your neck as his lips move against yours with something a little hungry, a little breathless, but still so stupidly in love.

you pull away for air, lips tingling, chest rising in soft, quick breaths. your fingers are still fisted in his shirt, and he looks up at you like you just knocked the wind out of him — which, to be fair, you did.

jay’s lips are red, a little kiss-swollen, and he’s breathing just as hard.

you blink, lips tingling. “so, i guess, you really do love me?”

“i love you when you talk too much,” he continues against your lips, grinning, “and when you ask dumb questions, like if i still love you.”

you let out a tiny gasp, equal parts amused and overwhelmed, and he pulls you even closer, your forehead pressed to his. your hands rest on his shoulders, thumbs brushing the slope of his neck.

“hey,” you whine softly, but he leans forward again and steals another kiss before you can complain further — short, warm, like a punctuation mark.

“i spend three hours building a closet,” he continues, kisses the corner of your mouth, “you sit here looking like a whole heart attack—” another kiss, this time near your chin, “—and then you ask—” kiss “—me—” kiss “—if i—” kiss “love you?” another kiss.

you laugh into his shoulder, hands slipping up into his hair, heart stopping “i just wanted to hear it.”

his lips curl, lazy and crooked. “you’re so annoying,” he mutters

your breath catches as he rests his forehead against yours, noses brushing, full of love. “god,” he mutters, eyes still closed, “you drive me insane,” he chuckles again like a reminder.

“you like it,” you whisper, a chuckle falling on your lips.

he smiles, just a little. then, without letting go of you, he sinks to the floor.

kneels. infront of you.

his arms wrap around your waist, cheek pressing softly to your thigh. he exhales against the fabric of your shorts, like being close to you settles everything.

you run your fingers through his hair, slow. comforting. he hums under his breath, content and quiet, letting his body relax against your leg.

“this okay?” he sighs, his lips tickling your skin as he grins on it.

you nod, resting your hand on his cheek. “yeah,” you smile. “more than okay.”

his lashes flutter as he closes his eyes again.

and there you sit, a half-finished vanity in the corner, a husband with sawdust on his arms and love in every touch, and a kiss still tingling on your lips like a promise that never gets old.

your heartbeat is still racing a little. his breaths are slower now. calm. heavy.

“i love you,” he says eventually, voice muffled and slept against your thigh.

you smile. bend forward and kiss the top of his head, “i know. i love you more.”

스루 ܃ uploading this from my college library .. chem i hate you 😞 feedbacks are very much appreciated !

© bywons, 2025 div ctto —taglist open ! nets. @/k-labels @kflixnet @k-films

[heeseung64]

TAKE ME BACK!

winning back a bad bitch is harder than losing one- jay edition.

desperate ex!jay x reader. stupid shit. super suggestive. funny. readers petty but in denial! decided to make this a series for all members, heres hee's. hoon's. jake's. won's so far!

permies:

@nikiswifiee @ancnymcnzjy @ja4hyvn @17ericas @hoonieyun @jellyluv4eva @wheretheheckis-ssaki @hyukabeanie @gxwesn @tojiworshipper @wonuziex @jaerisdiction @luhvletters @hoon2f4ded @enhanoa @ikeu05 @tokkisluv @ijustwannareadstuff20 @pqrkjyx @ilovhoonie @laylasbunbunny @fairystudio @mxxrtality

[xuditmrq]

Jake audio

Just teach him a lesson and ride him so the car seat that it makes him despair

[nvinannn]

JAKE JAKE JAKE JAKE JAKE JAKE JAKE OMFG THIS MY FAVORITE AUDIO.😳🤍

[drkbl00d]

⧼ᴀɴᴅ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ʙɪʀᴛʜᴅᴀʏ ʙᴏʏ?⧽ ─── 박종성

jay is annoying with his expensive outfits, large crowds that follow him wherever he goes and that stupid perfect smile that always paints his face. little did you know that he's completely at your mercy and is willing to do absolutely everything to please you, especially when he's under you.

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: richkid!jay x fem!reader

SMUT, he's down bad, service bottom / switch jay , he's bratty, reader is kind of a switch/but more dom leaning in this, blowjob, lots of teasing, swearing, begging, "pretty boy", "good boy", unprotected sex (don't unless you're sterile and tested!), cowgirl, little bit of tiddie sucking, birthday sex, lowkey degration (he's into it), slight hate fucking from readers side, university au!, not proofread (4.1k words)

park jongseong is fucking infuriating.

as much as you don't wish to admit it, he gets under your skin. the picture perfect boy, living in the big mansion that his oh so perfect family owns. apparently they even have a massive hand painted family portrait in the entry hall.

wherever he goes, the crowd follows. girl and boys, no matter who it is, they all cling to him as if he hung the fucking moon. you don't understand it, the parties he throws seem to be ordinary, he's not particularly interesting besides his parents money. yet he still lingers in the back of your mind, deeply hidden from the rest of the world, but still there.

you sit a few rows above him, boring lecture only acting as background noise. in disbelief you watch the swarm of people staring at the proclaimed golden boy, who is only taking notes.

"wow jay your handwriting is so nice!" one girl exclaims.

"shhh, you're distracting him!" shoots back another.

you scoff in disbelief. everyone has gotten fucking insane.

thankfully, as if your professor knew of your suffering, he briefly concludes the last few slides and released you into freedom. while the loyal jay solar system stays close to their sun, you squeeze past them, feeling the freedom of the end of classes.

moving through the masses you pick up some fellow students exited mutters. "yea it's gonna be insane tomorrow. he hasn't been announced anything!"

you almost stop paying attention when another drops the news.

"i mean it's jays fucking birthday, it's bound to be something."

oh god. hell awaits you tomorrow.

if people have been annoying any other day, they will be fucking insufferable tomorrow.

for a second you think of simply not showing up, but then again, you refuse to let this random man affect your studies. this has to fucking stop.

in the end, you should've just stayed at home. the halls were filled with people carrying homemade cakes, birthday cards signed by the entire university being handed around so that not a single person will be left out.

"y/n! come sign real quick." a girl you've never met in your life practically screams and shoves the card into your face.

carefully, you push the card towards her again. "no thanks, him and i don't know each other."

"come onnnn", she whines. "it's jay, everybody knows jay."

that earns her a scoff from you. "well i doubt he'll miss my signature then. he'll be just fine." and with that you move past her. it's honestly baffling to you how people still act like this in university. one would think you'd all be past the idolisation of random people at this age.

a mere 24 hours later tough, despite all the odds, you find yourself within the holy walls of residence of the golden boy.

you had been curious, you can't lie. the invitation had mysteriously found its way into your bag, a fucking qr code staring back at you.

please scan to confirm your attendance.

what did you have to lose? confirm that he's just like the other rich kids and settle this once and far all?

you hadn't put much attention to your outfit, you didn't want to give him even the slightest suspicion of going for his sake.

the place was vibrating with energy and the bass of music. the entire university must be here, what was the need for confirmed attendance?

the plan had been to lay low, observe, confirm your suspicions and disappear again. but jay's eyes had been fucking everywhere. you couldn't even make your way through the first floor without his eyes meeting yours all across the, way too big, room.

next thing you knew, you were locked into his bedroom with him. truly, you don't even remember it happen. there had been a tug on your hand up the stairs, him guiding you through the masses of students, jealous eyes staring at you in disbelief.

something inside of you had snapped the moment you heard the door click, you couldn't believe him.

"the fuck do you think you're doing?" you almost screamed at him and you yourself were surprised at your rage.

jay was fiddling with his hands in front of his chest, broad shoulders shaking with his uneven breath. his mouth opened and closed. opened. closed.

"speak!"

he sighed, eyes darting around the room and you don't miss how his eyes lingered in the corner. you turned your head. the bed. the motherfucker was staring at the fucking bed,

you scoff, grabbing his arm and dragging him across the room. his knees hit the expensive wooden frame, causing him to fall back against the abundance of pillows.

"someone fucking fluffed those up for you before your guest came, didn't they?" you mutter as you straddle him.

as if he wasn't flustered enough, your words flicked a switch in his brain and he only managed a weak nod in response.

"you're so fucking spoiled." you practically spat at him.

and in response he whines. he fucking whines underneath you.

"y/n you're so mean to me." he pouts and it's the most pathetic thing you've ever seen.

"why, because i don't fucking fawn over you when you simply breathe?"

his hands twitch, aching to touch you but he knows you'll just slap them away.

"you never even looked at me. you never went to any of my parties. i've been trying to get your attention since the beginning." he breathes, eyes low lidded and hazy.

you coo, "awww, poor baby. couldn't buy my attention, how mean of me." a fake pout forming on your face.

jay trashes around, hair messily splayed over the pillow. desperate whines keep bubbling out of him, you make him so fucking insane.

"please." he mumbles, head lulled to the side, soft pillow muffling his voice.

"hm?" you question. "please what?"

he scoffs, "let me touch you, feel you. my god anything please, please just let me be inside of you."

and there it finally was.

for a moment you only stared at him, his eyes darting around the room, looking anywhere but your face.

he didn't know what he expected for an answer. a witty comeback, a teasing question maybe. but what he didn't expect, was you just full on laughing at him.

"you think", you manage to get out between giggles "you think that's all it takes for you to get what you want? say pretty please and i jump at you command?"

all jay can do is look at you with wide eyes, but it's not out of hurt. no. he's so fucking horny right now.

"please." he chokes out, rapidly blinking up at you. "please y/n i promise i'll make you feel good."

"hmmmm, what to do what to do..." you say with a roll of your hips against his. he hisses, sensitive cock throbbing underneath his tailored slacks.

"fuck, don't tease me i'll fucking cum in my pants."

the moment those words leave his mouth, he immediately starts to regret them. especially when he noticed the sparkle in your eyes.

"oh how awful." you pout down at him, index finger slowly slipping underneath his shirt and trailing down his torso.

you felt each and every abdomen muscle flex under your touch as his breathing starts getting heavier and heavier. but what really gets you is the sight of him when your eyes dart back to his face.

his jaw slack, eyes fixated on your fingertip: the man was utterly at your mercy.

a small chuckle leave you and you lean in to hover over his face, fingertips still ghosting over his skin.

"so responsive, hm?" you whisper in his ear and he shudders at your closeness.

with dreadful slowness your fingers travel down his abdomen, tracing every rig of his toned body.

jays eyes travel down and you grab his face. "nu-uh." you tut, index finger softly caressing the line of his jaw. "eyes on me, pretty boy."

you don't quite know where this part of you is coming from. before today, you would've imagined yourself to be in his position, not the opposite. but you refuse to give him power over you right now, not after him acting like a spoiled brat, despite the fact he showed off only for you to notice him.

after excruciating seconds, your hand started playing with the waistband of his boxers, careful fingers slipping beneath it. his hips buck involuntarily and he sighs out of frustration of his erection being exposed to the cool air.

ever so slowly you move your along the elastic band, other hand pulling his slacks down and inching closer to his throbbing cock. the sound of his frantic breathing music in to ears. but you refuse to give in this easily and make the band suddenly snap back against his skin.

a strangled moan escapes him and his eyes close shut, brows furrows. "fuck, please y/n."

"who knew you could beg this sweetly?"

"could've shown you ages ago baby, you never fucking looked at me though."

you smile at his witty remarks, despite his already fucked out state.

"can't have the birthday boy wait much longer then can't i?".

he frantically starts nodding; god he's absolutely pathetic and it's the hottest thing you've ever seen.

your lips replace your fingers along his waistband, teeth nipping at his skin. he twitches in response and you press his hips back to the mattress. "stay. or i'll stop."

his hands fist the sheets and he throws his head backs in frustration.

you start placing open mouthed kisses all over his boxers, careful to avoid where he wants you most. though that doesn't stop you from "accidentally" nudging his cock with your nose through.

"oopsie." you giggle, placing a kiss on the spot and he hisses.

"please, i need your mouth on me so fucking bad." his voice is raspy, filled with need and desperation.

you're not letting him get his wishes that easily though.

with one smooth motion, you lick his length from base to top, teeth grazing the fabric. you feel his legs flex, but he refrains from moving much.

"hmmm, good boy." you praise, pressing another kiss to his clothed tip.

he jerks again at the petname and you notice the faint red staining his cheeks.

"awwww, pretty boy blushes at the slightest form of praise."

your words only intensify his embarrassment, one hand covering his face, one that you instantly remove.

"absolutely not. you've been acting like an attention whore all along, you don't get to hide now."

he scoffs, little high pitched noise bubbling out of his throat. if he wants to play brat you just have to put him back into his place.

not giving him time to fix his attitude your teeth are on him, but not nipping at his skin. no, your teeth sink into the sensitive flesh of his, still clothed, tip.

tortured moans fill the room, his hands flying down to swat your head away.

"i'm sorry, i'm sorry, please- ngh, i'll be nice now i promise."

you take his hand into his, intertwining his long fingers with yours.

"mhm, you better." you murmur back, as you free his cock from his precum stained boxers. the cool air made him hiss, head thrown back in both pleasure and pain.

slowly, you wrap your free hand around the base of his length, gliding it up at down at an almost cruelly slow place.

the moans that spill out of him were almost pornographic, low guttural ones mixing with high pitched whines.

deciding that he's suffered enough you start kitty licking around his tip, swirling your tongue around it.

his hips buck and he immediately whines. "i'm sorry, i'm sorry, i'm sorry you just make me feel so fucking good."

you place him fully in your mouth, humming softly at his pleas. he tugs at your still intertwined hand and you squeeze back, reminding him that you're the only in control.

it doesn't take much for jay to get close, a few bobs of your head, not even having to take him down your throat and he's panting like a dog.

"fuck, fuck y/n please, can i cum? please i want to come so fucking bad." you couldn't help a giggle escape you, the vibrations only making him moan back at you even louder.

you pick up the pace, hand squeezing the base of his cock your mouth hasn't reached yet.

his moans turn into full on squeaks, head moving from left to right, legs twitched besides you.

"i'm gonna cum, fuck." he breathes, as his torso curved forwards, eyes forced shut and mouth wide open. he squeezed your intertwined hands so tightly you were sure all circulation was cut off for a second.

warm liquid filled your mouth and he slumped back onto the mattress, taking deep breaths to recover from his high.

"you're fucking insane, you want me to fucking die." he murmurs, eyes locking with yours.

sitting upright again, making sure he sees you swallow all of his release as you fix your hair. "someone's got to put you in your place eventually." you smile back at him sweetly.

"don't stop now then."

you cock your head at his words.

"touch me again, i'll do whatever you want from me." he rasps, not a single trace of uncertainty on his face.

"you have a crowd of people downstairs, desperate for your attention. meanwhile you're begging for a simple touch, don't you think that's a little pathetic of you?"

"i don't fucking care about them." he spats out. "i'll send them home for all i care. heck, i'd let you do this in front of them all. let them see you're all i want."

your heart stutters a little at that confession. until now this was teasing, pushing some boundaries, but you're starting to truly believe he was serious.

" 's that so? what a sweetheart you are, park."

"you fucking ruined me." he continues. "you're on my mind all the time, i can't focus on anything. nothing matters as much as being around you."

you scoff. "what happened to just talking to me. we've never exchanged a single word until today."

"i was scared, okay?" his eyes dart away from yours. "i'm not used go people not wanting to be in my vicinity. i thought you hated me."

a wave of emotion hit you, one that you couldn't quite place. sure, you avoided him because you were annoyed at this golden boy status, but you did assume things before actually having had a proper conversation with him.

"i never hated you." you whisper back.

he scoffs, "well you weren't quite fond of me."

"true, but i was more annoyed and irritated than anything else."

to that he only hums. his hands fidget and you hesitate for a moment before taking them into yours. you don't say anything and simply put them on your hips.

"if i'd hate you that much would i get you a birthday present?"

"huh?" jay looks at you, utterly confused and before he knew it he witnessed you removing your top.

"never seen tits before?" you chuckle at him — he looked like he'd just seen a unicorn walk into the room.

"no, i mean yes...uh, not yours tho." as soon as his words left him he cringed at himself. "gosh i sound pathetic."

not in your wildest dreams would you've imagined having your tits be this intriguing, let alone to jay.

"mhm, maybe a little. its cute though."

his head shot up at that and you laugh.

"you're so eager for praise, don't u get enough as is?" you tease.

"this is my first time getting it from you," he mumbled, "cut me some slack."

your hands travel up his torso, tracing little shapes and roaming mindlessly. " gonna let me have some fun with you? what'ya think about that?"

jay only manages a nod and you don't fail to notice the now faster moving rise and fall of his chest.

"well, get naked then park."

in record time jay tugs off his shirt, carelessly throwing it around the room. there flies a random 400 dollar shirt.

"you don't take care of your stuff well do you?"

he props himself up by his elbows, "not when i have to take care of you first."

you raise your brow at that, eyes slightly squinting down at the man looking up at you as if you were on ocean in the sahara and he's been wandering for weeks to find it.

"you sure you're not all talk, park?"

a sly smile spreads on his face. "feel free to punish me if you're not satisfied" he shoots back.

game on.

jay's eyes never left yours when you removed the rest of your clothes and you don't miss the swallow after he saw the pretty white panties you wore, eyes following it flying towards his previously discarded slacks.

"real price is here." you mutter, taking his chin into your hand to make him look at you again.

jay didn't know where to look first. having you completely bare on top of him seemed to have fried the last remaining braincells he had. up and down his eyes flickered, from face to tits to pussy.

"jesus christ you're gorgeous." he says, voice so breathless it almost sounded comical.

you hum, positioning your hips right above his.

with excruciating slowness you lower yourself, carefully watching how he switches from low lidded, lust filled to screwed shut eyes and sharp hisses.

"fuck, fuck more please." he chokes out and you pause, only halfway down his length. giving him what he wants easily was not on your list.

you reach your hand down, fingers wrapping around the base of his cock and squeezing. and my god; the sounds that spilled out of him were heavenly.

"please, oh my god don't tease me i'll be so good i promise," he rasps, looking up with you with glassy eyes. cute.

hand moving away from his cock, you place it against his stomach, spreading yourself as you continue to glide down on him.

"jesus you're so wet, you're so fucking perfect oh my god."

you chuckle. you don't even need to speak and he's babbling.

"pussy got you talking sweet to me, huh?" you tease and he whines.

"just don't want you to stop, please don't stop."

deciding you won't torture him much longer you drop your hips with one quick motion and you both gasp. you underestimated just how deep he'll be inside you now.

you had to take a few deep breaths, writhing jay underneath you absolutely losing his mind at the feeling of being hugged by your gummy walls.

"holy shit, move," he pleads, "please, please move i'm gonna go insane."

you slowly start rolling your hips. god did he feel good inside of you. you've heard people praise this man into the ground but surprisingly never heard much of his sex life and his performance. even if, you doubt that they could've prepared you just how feel he fits inside of you.

"come on", he chokes out between gritted teeth, "make yourself feel good on me, use me."

you throw your head back, hand gripping onto his shoulders. his hips buck up to meet the circling of your hips and you gasp, walls clenching around him.

"fuck, you're so fucking pretty angel. can't believe you're letting me see you like this."

one would think jay has met god in person and to him it feels like it. you're his god now, he's willing to devote his entire life to worshipping you.

" 'm never letting anyone have you again. say you're mine now."

you laugh breathlessly. "is that your way of asking me to be your girlfriend, park?"

"if you rather me asking when i'm not balls deep inside you i'll take you on the best date of your fucking life tomorrow, pretty" he shoots back.

"gonna show you that these fucking losers you've been giving chances could never love and spoil you like i did." sharp pain interrupts on your hips as he digs his fingertips into the plush flesh.

"i got so fucking annoyed at that girl who played you. fucking loser, just like that guy who forgot the right time of your first fucking date."

he remembered. he remembered them all; and you didn't quite know how to feel. your heart swells as your walls clench around him again.

"should've just fucking talked to me then," you manage to moan out. "could've been yours since the moment you wanted."

at your words he pulled your hips down even closer against his, his cock hitting your sweet spot just right and you gasp, falling forwards. encouraged at your reaction, he pushes you back upright again, hips snapping upwards at a relentless pace.

high pitched, almost squeaky moans spill out of you, hands gripping onto anything that could offer some stability. but jay hasn't had enough, he needs you as desperate for him as he is for you. his thumb finds your clit, rubbing tiny calculated circles on it.

"fuck, jay holy shit oh my god, don't fucking stop."

"not so cocky anymore, huh princess?"

you laugh, "fuck you. you're not any better."

"gotta get an answer out of you don't i?"

"yes", you whine "yes i'll be yours, fuck, oh my god you're so big."

his ego boosted and he sits up slightly, lips wrapping around you nipple, giving it a few sucks. you moan in response, back arching forwards as he kitten licks around it before moving to the other.

" 'm so close." your voice barely even noticeable.

he hums, mouth still on your breast before releasing it with a small pop. "let yourself go pretty, hm? make a mess on my cock, come on."

your hips now match his frantic movement, the pressure of his finger against your clit, cock drilling into you, almost making you see stars.

jay is as much of a mess as you are, hair stuck to his forehead, pupils blown wide and fixated on your pussy.

"jay-"

"i know, pretty, me too."

without thinking you fall forwards, lips crashing into his. he gasps, hands moving from your hips to your waist to pull you closer. it was barely considered kissing or making out, the two of you were practically devouring each other alive. tongues clashed in fight for dominance, both of you too stubborn to back down and admit defeat.

two more thrusts and you feel the warmth in your stomach drop, thighs clenching and pussy swallowing his cock. white coats your vision and you go limb as you feel jay stiffen up underneath you, a mix of groans and whines filling your ears.

you feel his heart beating through his chest, messy rhythm matching yours. two large hands find your waist as he starts dragging his fingertip up and down your sides, involuntarily tickling you.

"you're so fucking cute." he mumbles sleepily as you try and doge his touch.

your eyes meet his, heart stuttering at his fixated gaze on you.

"you're not too bad yourself i guess," and he laughs, hips bucking up, cock still burrowed deep inside you, nudging your sweet spot for a second.

involuntary you squeak in surprise, slapping his chest lightly and squeezing his cock with your walls in response. he moans back, wide smile spreading on his face.

"feisty girl you are." he beams, connecting your lips with his. this time it's not as fiery, no clashing of teeth and messy tongues. no, it was gentle and deliberate.

lips still connected, you rolled you on your side, cock slipping out of you and you gasp at the emptiness. you gasp instantly swallowed by him he deepened the kiss, one hand leaving your waist to softly cup your cheek.

"you still standing with the answer you gave earlier?" he whispers against your lips and you hum.

"nu-uh," he pulls back and you whine, "use your words."

you squint at him, "don't you use my words against me, park."

at that he only laughs, pressing a few kisses on your cheeks. "forgive me, but i can't have you thinking i'll let you be in control all the time."

"oh please," you scoff, "you were literally begging for me a few minutes ago."

"and i'll do it again, but next i'll have you begging baby."

he smiles and for a moment you forgot how you hadn't been charmed by him the moment you saw him.

"let's see if you're not all talk then, birthday boy. make a wish."

ʟɪɴꜱ ɴᴏᴛᴇ: happy birthday daddy, you getting fucked tonight 👅

ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ: @saeivra @shawnyle @kookiesnkim @itsnotawrongnumber @shaiimuraaa @yelihusband @chaebbys (comment or send me an ask if you want to be tagged or removed <33)

ʜᴏɴᴏʀᴀʀʏ ᴛᴀɢꜱ: @jaylaxies true royalty in this tag section im shaking in my boots typing this

ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴅʀᴋʙʟᴏᴏᴅ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ

[thisisalwaysthat]

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀LA LA LOST YOU ༄ p.js

pairing  :  ex bf!jay x ex gf!reader

synopsis ⿻ content  :  you and jay were the ideal couple—  cruising through high school and college together; known as nothing less than the definition of forever to most. you were both aware your futures held different stories; yet you still spent all of college hoping it would mesh into one. as you moved abroad to seoul to continue your studies, jay stays put in new york, settling into the corporate, white collar job he had always pined for. coming to reality with the fact that you cannot have jay in your world— you let him go. that is, only to find him at a rock concert 4 years later in the borough you called home, tearing up to the song that screamed your name like a mantra in his mind. 

warnings  :  crying , minimal cussing, shallow mention of suic*de , angst ( i'm sorry ) 

wc  :  3.4k

a/n : my first fic in almost 2 years . . i hope everyone enjoys this as much as i did writing it ! ! ( yes, i did cry. )

fic playlist    ⤿ **     la la lost you— niki, david— lorde, mean it— lauv, purple rain— prince.

New York is the kind of city where you can see your past flicker and your future glow. 

as a child, i've always dreamt of the horizons beyond the upper west side— the brownstones, the local bakeries and the high school football field. 

running around with my friends past 7 everyday, watching the sunset, i had always wondered if there was anything beyond the familiar world i had bathed in for 16 years.

that's when i met jay.  ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀—to me, he was the extension of my viewpoint. life felt so much more full— to say the least. with him, it felt like i could let my passions grow, that i could achieve the unachievable. 

he was the one who i had sworn to love up and down. 

i still remember our first kiss— well, it's quite hard to forget.  ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀the minute our lips touched, i felt your warmth; the love, swallowing me. it was a feeling i had never experienced before, a feeling that made me want to continue, a feeling that would later ricochet into the biggest blessing of my life. 

i remember the night i became yours, too. how could i forget? ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀it was sophomore prom, you had asked me with a big corny poster and a dramatic promposal with all of our friends. i called you cringe, and i cried. but what i hadn't told you was that i had never felt more love radiate from someone in my entire life, i felt like i had finally been picked, like i had been chosen. 

our love story started that night.  it looked liked the city skyline from brooklyn bridge during 7pm sunsets; or the barista at the coffee shop around our neighborhood, who had our orders memorized, religiously. 

it looked like the rest of my life. 

until you stepped foot into the airport. you take in the air and you're reminded of the life you've built in New York. you turn around and you're reminded of the life you've built with jay, too.  all the times when you would lay awake in bed, holding onto one another like you were each others only consolity. studying for mid-terms till the clock striked 3am; but even then, none of it felt miserable because you were with him. past you who would've cried herself to sleep would never believe that you were giggling yourself to sleep— laced in the arms of a boy whom you carried so close to your heart. 

you brought yourself back to the airport, you shouldn't be crying now; this was your decision. you chose to abandon your hometown to travel back to your native country— to extend your studies and to explore more of this unfamiliar world. 

you look behind you to the boy holding your suitcase, tears cascading down his pretty face, the look in his eyes begging you for one more day. 

" yn. . . " he suddenly spoke.     " what's wrong? "

" we'll be able to handle long distance well, right? all my friends have broken up with their long distance relationships but— but. . . i know we're not like them, yn. . . we know better than that right? " he took a breath in between, winded from the sobbing, chest heaving. 

" please don't leave. " he huffed out, breaking out into a weep. he leaves your suitcase in the same idle position and rushes forward into your arms, holding you like his closest lifeline. he holds you like you'll disappear the moment he lefts go. you can feel his body trembling against yours, his hands shake. the tears continue to plummet down his face and he is left gasping for air, crying your name. 

" oh. . baby. " you whisper into his ear as you take your hat off, wrapping your arms around his body, you let your tears surge. you ruffle your fingers through his hair, relishing in his warmth. you caress the nape of his neck because you know he loves that. 

" i'll always be here for you, no matter what— and we'll get through this. we'll get through all of it and when i'm back in 4 years— we'll hug, and we'll kiss like before. baby, i promise. " 

" because it's only ever been you, jay. and it will always, forever continue to be you. " 

just like that, your time savored has been cut short. you peel his arms off of you— and when you look up your heart aches at the sight; his swollen eyes, his puffy cheeks. nonetheless, he still forces a smile as he tells you to turn around and start walking. 

you've heard it in videos, on the news, when you see compilations of people parting ways with their families at the airport. the unbearing tactic of having to turn around and put one foot infront of the other despite hearing the cries and pleas from the person behind you. 

you cherish his face, tracing your eyes down every feature, almost memorizing him. immediately once you turn around, you hear his chants, spoken with his hoarse voice. with each step you take, you hear your heart falling apart slowly, brick by brick. 

" baby, don't forget to eat well! "⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀" text me when you're on the plane, okay? "⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀" if anything ever happens, please call me, okay baby? " ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀" i'm so proud of you yn! " ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀" if you ever feel like a stranger— text me. i will never be your stranger. " ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀" i love you so much yn, please stay safe. " 

and just like that, you had left. 

left the city you fought so hard to keep close to your heart— though none of it mattered now. all you can do is stay calm and fight on the world seoul had to offer for you.

you quickly realize seoul was the other half of the horizon you had always wanted to explore. your university, it's beautiful. the 7/11 around the corner, the 4 story library, and your apartment which sat in your complex, waiting for you. 

of course, you hadn't forgotten about jay. you texted him in between every class, and you called him when you got home late, when you needed someone to talk to. he always answered, never missing a beat. 

though as time went on, you felt this cycle reoccuring over and over again. it felt repetitive— staged. it no longer felt natural. you acknowledge that part of this could have been because he was halfway across the world with no other way of reaching you, you felt alone even though you were in love. 

you didn't have anyone else; hell that was far from what you were experiencing. every night after your part-time, you'd come home and lay on your bed wondering if jay was happy, if he was eating out with his friends all the time still, or if he had found someone else to bathe his joy in. that's what you were scared about. 

being so far from him, you started to let the distance settle in, it was impossibly painful but you couldn't do anything about it. 

he stopped picking up all your daily calls; stopped texting back within the minute, and stopped mailing you letters. you thought it was work. we're all busy, aren't we? he told you it was work, so you believed it.

but part of you always knew in the back of your mind that, it was because of how draining this was. 

with a heavy heart and shaking hands, you decide to let him go, to erase yourself from his world.

some would call it a "fresh new start," but for you, it was your love story cut short. 

after deleting all of your previous social media and blocking him on everything, your world dimmed a little; it became quiet. a silence you were never quite used to, a silence you didn't want to get used to.

you'd stay up at night, wondering if this was the right decision. you'd replay your old videos, clips of you and him laying on the benches in central park; clips of you both walking around at MoMa. 

a gallery full of memories, pictures, videos. they were all him, you skimmed through them every night. no matter how badly you tried to delete him from your life to save the pain, you couldn't. every turn around the corner, every song reminded you of him. 

you began to live your life in a haze— almost subconscious. you lived robotically, nothing like the life you used to have. 

just like that, 4 whole years had passed. 4 years of not speaking to him, hearing his voice, seeing his face. although it wasn't his fault, it was yours, you made this verdict. 

" Guns N' Roses 2025 World Tour "

you lept from your seat, the band that you had loved since you were a kid. the band that sat in company with you when things got hard, the band that you and jay bonded over. this was your chance to see them after years of hiatus. 

you scrolled through the dates, 

' europe . . . london, uk. . . asia . . . thailand, bangkok . . ' your eyes scanned the image on your phone. 

finally, you paused at the united states— New York. your favorite band was coming to the state that you had loved more than anything in the world. you hadn't planned to go back so quickly, you wanted to see if the job market here was good, if the living quarters in other provinces were suitable as well. 

but the urge to see them was greater than anything in your mind at that moment, and so you booked the plane tickets. you booked the concert tickets, and surprisingly, scored a pretty decent general admission ticket. you triumphed, finally being able to live out the dream you had longed for since you were a kid. 

as you got off the plane, you surveyed your surroundings. you were in New York again— the city you knew like the palm of your hand, the city that changed everything. when you got off the subway, immediately inhaling the familiar cent of brand new lipstick and smoked cigars. 

you trace your steps back to your mom's house, the same neighborhood. 

honestly, it looked like it hadn't changed much. the same chalk stain on the concrete, the same kids playing in the yard, except now they were so much older. even the scent that lingered was the same.

you were home.

you greet your parents, surprising them with a warm hug, and teary eyes. you quickly settle all of your belongings into your old room, looking out the window at the New York skyline— soaking it all in. you're back, back in the city where you saw your past flicker and your future glow. 

you fell asleep that night wondering about all of your friends, how were they? where were they? you hadn't caught up with anyone yet, you hardly opened your social media. you lift your phone up in the darkness of your room and you open Instagram.

immediately, you're caught up with hundreds of notifications you never bothered to check within the last few months, hundreds of childhood friends asking " yn! your studies are finally over, when will you come back? "

though some of them asked you where you had gone. " yn, are you doing okay? jay can't find you. please contact him as soon as possible, " and others had asked if you were attending the Guns N' Roses world tour, " yn, are you going to the Bangkok stop?! me and my friends wanted to go! "

little did they know you were here, in New York. 

that night you slept realizing everyone had still remembered you, you felt like an imebecile. ghosting everyone, disappearing from their lives like you had never owned that spot in their heart. you didn't deserve them— especially not jay. you told yourself the ultimatum was that you would force yourself to never see him again, you had to save yourself the pain, the suffering. but most importantly— the guilt. 

the guilt of deleting a 6 year relationship from your life like it meant nothing to you. sure you knew it came with heartache, you knew there was absolutely on way you'd be forgiven after this, but that's what you wanted. you wanted him to let go of you, of this. you couldn't be here for him, you wanted him to be with someone who acknowledged his presence. someone who would drive him home when he was drunk, someone who would cook for him and someone who wasn't a thousand miles away in a different continent, ghosting him. 

the day of the concert you awoke to quiet. it was peaceful, you heard your parents chatting downstairs, making breakfast, talking about how excited they were to have you back. you were too, beyond ecstatic.

you quickly got ready. your regular routine you perfected in korea— shower, makeup, hair, outfit.

you went out of the way to buy a cute rock-punk styled outfit in korea for the concert before you came back to New York, you thought it fit well with the vibe. 

you ate the breakfast like you had been starved for the past 5 years, it was so nice to finally taste the familiar cooking again. you swore you could almost cry. 

you waved goodbye to your parents and made your way to the subway station, just like before. you had your phone out, looking for directions of the venue. when you finally got off, you stood right infront of the concert venue, hands clutching your phone like it was a distant dream. it felt unreal, to say the least. 

the rest of the day mainly consisted of buying merch, buying snacks, and waiting hours in line to get your general admission wrist bands. after the chaos, you were finally allowed into the venue.

and god, was it huge. it was bigger than you had imagined, a venue where you would hear your favorite artists' music rebound off the walls. 

you caught a pretty good standing spot in general admission, drink in hand, phone fully charged and storage cleared.  

you had briefly browsed through the setlist beforehand, all amazing songs. as the singers came out and the set started, you had noticed that more people came piling in from all sides. you looked down and realized you were at the very front, clutching onto the border of the barricade walls. " damn, i'm lucky. " you thought, and laughed to yourself. 

when the first notes of "November Rain" were played, you found your heart recognizing that song before your mind did. the song you and jay danced to in the kitchen, the song you would play together when nights got lonely. this song was everything to you. you started to sway your head and hum along to the tune with everyone in the audience. 

somewhere in the midst of all the music, you hear sniffling. almost. . . crying? you open your eyes and scan to the right, going on your tippy toes, wondering if anyone had been hurt.

then you swung your head to the left, scanning the audience; before your eyes landed on him. 

it was jay. 

he had come.

and it was him; it was him who was tearing up to the song. 

your heart stopped, you had never rehearsed for this moment, where you'd ever be seeing him again. you weren't sure how to react, till the tears started flowing and your legs started bottoming out. 

in that moment, you saw his head snap towards you, looking in your direction, 

and then his eyes met yours. 

you couldn't quite grasp the look in his eyes, but it was enough to break you.

as soon as the set ended for "November Rain," you pushed past everyone and quietly left the venue, legs almost bottoming out. 

and then you heard it, his voice. " Y/N! WAIT UP! " 

it was jay. fuck—- his voice made you want to swallow your heartache and point a gun at yourself. it was broken; he was broken. but somehow, all you did was run and push faster.

when you broke past the clear glass doors of the venue, you turned the corner and dived into the nearest alleyway. you had always been scared of the alleys in New York, not to mention at this egregious hour.

just as soon as you thought you had lost him, you hear footsteps. 

and then he appeared, infront of you. 

he was clutching onto his heaving chest, beads of sweat laced on his forehead, tears streaming down his face.

you were surprised, he still had the same face you fell in love with years ago. 

" yn— yn please, don't run anymore. " he said as he inched closer to you, trying to close the distance slowly, not wanting to make you uncomfortable. 

" jay. . . ? " you huffed out, short of breath. 

as he moved closer to you, your body stopped, you couldn't move, it felt suffocating. 

" please don't run, "

" . . i missed you. "

you hadn't noticed it but unshed tears were already glistening from your eyes. 

" jay, i- " 

" please tell me you're real. " he cried out. and for fucks sake— that was your breaking point. your legs bottomed out, your hand reached to hold onto your heart, weeping out whilst staring at the concrete floor. 

immediately, he closes the distance between you both, getting on his knees infront of you and pulling you into his chest. he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you to his chest in a fetus position, cradling you. he ran his fingers through your hair, with his best attempt to calm you down.

on the floor of a random alley in New York, not quite the reunion you had imagined.

" yn, where were you? " he whispered in your ear, arms still laced around your torso. 

" jay, please don't do this. " you attempted to pull back from him, but he saw through you. in return, he forced you back into his arms, pulling on your even harder. 

" yn, you don't need to explain right now— but please, please don't leave me. please, i don't wanna be alone again. "

" will you hold me? let me hold you? that's all i need. yn, i'm begging you. " he sobbed, voice croaking and broken. 

and you did, you cried into each others arms. 

and for the first time in long time— you didn't feel the need to be strong just for yourself. 

though deep down, you knew you didn't deserve any of it, still. his forgiveness, his love, his touch. as selfish as it may sound, it was the last thing on your mind. 

even for someone as "selfish", you let him hold you. 

as the cities final promise, you let him sink his face into your shoulders like before, and you whispered his name like you were struggling to come to terms with his existence. 

you were finally whole— not literally, but with him, it was the closest you'd ever get.  ・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

tysm gais for reading my fic hehe ! ! i'll be opening a perm taglist for this fic since it will come in more parts, so please comment if you'd like to be added ˙ᵕ˙ love u all sm

[thisisalwaysthat]

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀LA LA LOST YOU ༄ p.js

pairing  :  ex bf!jay x ex gf!reader

synopsis ⿻ content  :  you and jay were the ideal couple—  cruising through high school and college together; known as nothing less than the definition of forever to most. you were both aware your futures held different stories; yet you still spent all of college hoping it would mesh into one. as you moved abroad to seoul to continue your studies, jay stays put in new york, settling into the corporate, white collar job he had always pined for. coming to reality with the fact that you cannot have jay in your world— you let him go. that is, only to find him at a rock concert 4 years later in the borough you called home, tearing up to the song that screamed your name like a mantra in his mind. 

warnings  :  crying , minimal cussing, shallow mention of suic*de , angst ( i'm sorry ) 

wc  :  3.4k

a/n : my first fic in almost 2 years . . i hope everyone enjoys this as much as i did writing it ! ! ( yes, i did cry. )

fic playlist    ⤿ **     la la lost you— niki, david— lorde, mean it— lauv, purple rain— prince.

New York is the kind of city where you can see your past flicker and your future glow. 

as a child, i've always dreamt of the horizons beyond the upper west side— the brownstones, the local bakeries and the high school football field. 

running around with my friends past 7 everyday, watching the sunset, i had always wondered if there was anything beyond the familiar world i had bathed in for 16 years.

that's when i met jay.  ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀—to me, he was the extension of my viewpoint. life felt so much more full— to say the least. with him, it felt like i could let my passions grow, that i could achieve the unachievable. 

he was the one who i had sworn to love up and down. 

i still remember our first kiss— well, it's quite hard to forget.  ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀the minute our lips touched, i felt your warmth; the love, swallowing me. it was a feeling i had never experienced before, a feeling that made me want to continue, a feeling that would later ricochet into the biggest blessing of my life. 

i remember the night i became yours, too. how could i forget? ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀it was sophomore prom, you had asked me with a big corny poster and a dramatic promposal with all of our friends. i called you cringe, and i cried. but what i hadn't told you was that i had never felt more love radiate from someone in my entire life, i felt like i had finally been picked, like i had been chosen. 

our love story started that night.  it looked liked the city skyline from brooklyn bridge during 7pm sunsets; or the barista at the coffee shop around our neighborhood, who had our orders memorized, religiously. 

it looked like the rest of my life. 

until you stepped foot into the airport. you take in the air and you're reminded of the life you've built in New York. you turn around and you're reminded of the life you've built with jay, too.  all the times when you would lay awake in bed, holding onto one another like you were each others only consolity. studying for mid-terms till the clock striked 3am; but even then, none of it felt miserable because you were with him. past you who would've cried herself to sleep would never believe that you were giggling yourself to sleep— laced in the arms of a boy whom you carried so close to your heart. 

you brought yourself back to the airport, you shouldn't be crying now; this was your decision. you chose to abandon your hometown to travel back to your native country— to extend your studies and to explore more of this unfamiliar world. 

you look behind you to the boy holding your suitcase, tears cascading down his pretty face, the look in his eyes begging you for one more day. 

" yn. . . " he suddenly spoke.     " what's wrong? "

" we'll be able to handle long distance well, right? all my friends have broken up with their long distance relationships but— but. . . i know we're not like them, yn. . . we know better than that right? " he took a breath in between, winded from the sobbing, chest heaving. 

" please don't leave. " he huffed out, breaking out into a weep. he leaves your suitcase in the same idle position and rushes forward into your arms, holding you like his closest lifeline. he holds you like you'll disappear the moment he lefts go. you can feel his body trembling against yours, his hands shake. the tears continue to plummet down his face and he is left gasping for air, crying your name. 

" oh. . baby. " you whisper into his ear as you take your hat off, wrapping your arms around his body, you let your tears surge. you ruffle your fingers through his hair, relishing in his warmth. you caress the nape of his neck because you know he loves that. 

" i'll always be here for you, no matter what— and we'll get through this. we'll get through all of it and when i'm back in 4 years— we'll hug, and we'll kiss like before. baby, i promise. " 

" because it's only ever been you, jay. and it will always, forever continue to be you. " 

just like that, your time savored has been cut short. you peel his arms off of you— and when you look up your heart aches at the sight; his swollen eyes, his puffy cheeks. nonetheless, he still forces a smile as he tells you to turn around and start walking. 

you've heard it in videos, on the news, when you see compilations of people parting ways with their families at the airport. the unbearing tactic of having to turn around and put one foot infront of the other despite hearing the cries and pleas from the person behind you. 

you cherish his face, tracing your eyes down every feature, almost memorizing him. immediately once you turn around, you hear his chants, spoken with his hoarse voice. with each step you take, you hear your heart falling apart slowly, brick by brick. 

" baby, don't forget to eat well! "⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀" text me when you're on the plane, okay? "⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀" if anything ever happens, please call me, okay baby? " ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀" i'm so proud of you yn! " ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀" if you ever feel like a stranger— text me. i will never be your stranger. " ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀" i love you so much yn, please stay safe. " 

and just like that, you had left. 

left the city you fought so hard to keep close to your heart— though none of it mattered now. all you can do is stay calm and fight on the world seoul had to offer for you.

you quickly realize seoul was the other half of the horizon you had always wanted to explore. your university, it's beautiful. the 7/11 around the corner, the 4 story library, and your apartment which sat in your complex, waiting for you. 

of course, you hadn't forgotten about jay. you texted him in between every class, and you called him when you got home late, when you needed someone to talk to. he always answered, never missing a beat. 

though as time went on, you felt this cycle reoccuring over and over again. it felt repetitive— staged. it no longer felt natural. you acknowledge that part of this could have been because he was halfway across the world with no other way of reaching you, you felt alone even though you were in love. 

you didn't have anyone else; hell that was far from what you were experiencing. every night after your part-time, you'd come home and lay on your bed wondering if jay was happy, if he was eating out with his friends all the time still, or if he had found someone else to bathe his joy in. that's what you were scared about. 

being so far from him, you started to let the distance settle in, it was impossibly painful but you couldn't do anything about it. 

he stopped picking up all your daily calls; stopped texting back within the minute, and stopped mailing you letters. you thought it was work. we're all busy, aren't we? he told you it was work, so you believed it.

but part of you always knew in the back of your mind that, it was because of how draining this was. 

with a heavy heart and shaking hands, you decide to let him go, to erase yourself from his world.

some would call it a "fresh new start," but for you, it was your love story cut short. 

after deleting all of your previous social media and blocking him on everything, your world dimmed a little; it became quiet. a silence you were never quite used to, a silence you didn't want to get used to.

you'd stay up at night, wondering if this was the right decision. you'd replay your old videos, clips of you and him laying on the benches in central park; clips of you both walking around at MoMa. 

a gallery full of memories, pictures, videos. they were all him, you skimmed through them every night. no matter how badly you tried to delete him from your life to save the pain, you couldn't. every turn around the corner, every song reminded you of him. 

you began to live your life in a haze— almost subconscious. you lived robotically, nothing like the life you used to have. 

just like that, 4 whole years had passed. 4 years of not speaking to him, hearing his voice, seeing his face. although it wasn't his fault, it was yours, you made this verdict. 

" Guns N' Roses 2025 World Tour "

you lept from your seat, the band that you had loved since you were a kid. the band that sat in company with you when things got hard, the band that you and jay bonded over. this was your chance to see them after years of hiatus. 

you scrolled through the dates, 

' europe . . . london, uk. . . asia . . . thailand, bangkok . . ' your eyes scanned the image on your phone. 

finally, you paused at the united states— New York. your favorite band was coming to the state that you had loved more than anything in the world. you hadn't planned to go back so quickly, you wanted to see if the job market here was good, if the living quarters in other provinces were suitable as well. 

but the urge to see them was greater than anything in your mind at that moment, and so you booked the plane tickets. you booked the concert tickets, and surprisingly, scored a pretty decent general admission ticket. you triumphed, finally being able to live out the dream you had longed for since you were a kid. 

as you got off the plane, you surveyed your surroundings. you were in New York again— the city you knew like the palm of your hand, the city that changed everything. when you got off the subway, immediately inhaling the familiar cent of brand new lipstick and smoked cigars. 

you trace your steps back to your mom's house, the same neighborhood. 

honestly, it looked like it hadn't changed much. the same chalk stain on the concrete, the same kids playing in the yard, except now they were so much older. even the scent that lingered was the same.

you were home.

you greet your parents, surprising them with a warm hug, and teary eyes. you quickly settle all of your belongings into your old room, looking out the window at the New York skyline— soaking it all in. you're back, back in the city where you saw your past flicker and your future glow. 

you fell asleep that night wondering about all of your friends, how were they? where were they? you hadn't caught up with anyone yet, you hardly opened your social media. you lift your phone up in the darkness of your room and you open Instagram.

immediately, you're caught up with hundreds of notifications you never bothered to check within the last few months, hundreds of childhood friends asking " yn! your studies are finally over, when will you come back? "

though some of them asked you where you had gone. " yn, are you doing okay? jay can't find you. please contact him as soon as possible, " and others had asked if you were attending the Guns N' Roses world tour, " yn, are you going to the Bangkok stop?! me and my friends wanted to go! "

little did they know you were here, in New York. 

that night you slept realizing everyone had still remembered you, you felt like an imebecile. ghosting everyone, disappearing from their lives like you had never owned that spot in their heart. you didn't deserve them— especially not jay. you told yourself the ultimatum was that you would force yourself to never see him again, you had to save yourself the pain, the suffering. but most importantly— the guilt. 

the guilt of deleting a 6 year relationship from your life like it meant nothing to you. sure you knew it came with heartache, you knew there was absolutely on way you'd be forgiven after this, but that's what you wanted. you wanted him to let go of you, of this. you couldn't be here for him, you wanted him to be with someone who acknowledged his presence. someone who would drive him home when he was drunk, someone who would cook for him and someone who wasn't a thousand miles away in a different continent, ghosting him. 

the day of the concert you awoke to quiet. it was peaceful, you heard your parents chatting downstairs, making breakfast, talking about how excited they were to have you back. you were too, beyond ecstatic.

you quickly got ready. your regular routine you perfected in korea— shower, makeup, hair, outfit.

you went out of the way to buy a cute rock-punk styled outfit in korea for the concert before you came back to New York, you thought it fit well with the vibe. 

you ate the breakfast like you had been starved for the past 5 years, it was so nice to finally taste the familiar cooking again. you swore you could almost cry. 

you waved goodbye to your parents and made your way to the subway station, just like before. you had your phone out, looking for directions of the venue. when you finally got off, you stood right infront of the concert venue, hands clutching your phone like it was a distant dream. it felt unreal, to say the least. 

the rest of the day mainly consisted of buying merch, buying snacks, and waiting hours in line to get your general admission wrist bands. after the chaos, you were finally allowed into the venue.

and god, was it huge. it was bigger than you had imagined, a venue where you would hear your favorite artists' music rebound off the walls. 

you caught a pretty good standing spot in general admission, drink in hand, phone fully charged and storage cleared.  

you had briefly browsed through the setlist beforehand, all amazing songs. as the singers came out and the set started, you had noticed that more people came piling in from all sides. you looked down and realized you were at the very front, clutching onto the border of the barricade walls. " damn, i'm lucky. " you thought, and laughed to yourself. 

when the first notes of "November Rain" were played, you found your heart recognizing that song before your mind did. the song you and jay danced to in the kitchen, the song you would play together when nights got lonely. this song was everything to you. you started to sway your head and hum along to the tune with everyone in the audience. 

somewhere in the midst of all the music, you hear sniffling. almost. . . crying? you open your eyes and scan to the right, going on your tippy toes, wondering if anyone had been hurt.

then you swung your head to the left, scanning the audience; before your eyes landed on him. 

it was jay. 

he had come.

and it was him; it was him who was tearing up to the song. 

your heart stopped, you had never rehearsed for this moment, where you'd ever be seeing him again. you weren't sure how to react, till the tears started flowing and your legs started bottoming out. 

in that moment, you saw his head snap towards you, looking in your direction, 

and then his eyes met yours. 

you couldn't quite grasp the look in his eyes, but it was enough to break you.

as soon as the set ended for "November Rain," you pushed past everyone and quietly left the venue, legs almost bottoming out. 

and then you heard it, his voice. " Y/N! WAIT UP! " 

it was jay. fuck—- his voice made you want to swallow your heartache and point a gun at yourself. it was broken; he was broken. but somehow, all you did was run and push faster.

when you broke past the clear glass doors of the venue, you turned the corner and dived into the nearest alleyway. you had always been scared of the alleys in New York, not to mention at this egregious hour.

just as soon as you thought you had lost him, you hear footsteps. 

and then he appeared, infront of you. 

he was clutching onto his heaving chest, beads of sweat laced on his forehead, tears streaming down his face.

you were surprised, he still had the same face you fell in love with years ago. 

" yn— yn please, don't run anymore. " he said as he inched closer to you, trying to close the distance slowly, not wanting to make you uncomfortable. 

" jay. . . ? " you huffed out, short of breath. 

as he moved closer to you, your body stopped, you couldn't move, it felt suffocating. 

" please don't run, "

" . . i missed you. "

you hadn't noticed it but unshed tears were already glistening from your eyes. 

" jay, i- " 

" please tell me you're real. " he cried out. and for fucks sake— that was your breaking point. your legs bottomed out, your hand reached to hold onto your heart, weeping out whilst staring at the concrete floor. 

immediately, he closes the distance between you both, getting on his knees infront of you and pulling you into his chest. he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you to his chest in a fetus position, cradling you. he ran his fingers through your hair, with his best attempt to calm you down.

on the floor of a random alley in New York, not quite the reunion you had imagined.

" yn, where were you? " he whispered in your ear, arms still laced around your torso. 

" jay, please don't do this. " you attempted to pull back from him, but he saw through you. in return, he forced you back into his arms, pulling on your even harder. 

" yn, you don't need to explain right now— but please, please don't leave me. please, i don't wanna be alone again. "

" will you hold me? let me hold you? that's all i need. yn, i'm begging you. " he sobbed, voice croaking and broken. 

and you did, you cried into each others arms. 

and for the first time in long time— you didn't feel the need to be strong just for yourself. 

though deep down, you knew you didn't deserve any of it, still. his forgiveness, his love, his touch. as selfish as it may sound, it was the last thing on your mind. 

even for someone as "selfish", you let him hold you. 

as the cities final promise, you let him sink his face into your shoulders like before, and you whispered his name like you were struggling to come to terms with his existence. 

you were finally whole— not literally, but with him, it was the closest you'd ever get.  ・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

tysm gais for reading my fic hehe ! ! i'll be opening a perm taglist for this fic since it will come in more parts, so please comment if you'd like to be added ˙ᵕ˙ love u all sm

[thisisalwaysthat]

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀LA LA LOST YOU ༄ p.js

pairing  :  ex bf!jay x ex gf!reader

synopsis ⿻ content  :  you and jay were the ideal couple—  cruising through high school and college together; known as nothing less than the definition of forever to most. you were both aware your futures held different stories; yet you still spent all of college hoping it would mesh into one. as you moved abroad to seoul to continue your studies, jay stays put in new york, settling into the corporate, white collar job he had always pined for. coming to reality with the fact that you cannot have jay in your world— you let him go. that is, only to find him at a rock concert 4 years later in the borough you called home, tearing up to the song that screamed your name like a mantra in his mind. 

warnings  :  crying , minimal cussing, shallow mention of suic*de , angst ( i'm sorry ) 

wc  :  17.3k

a/n : my first fic in almost 2 years . . i hope everyone enjoys this as much as i did writing it ! ! ( yes, i did cry. )

fic playlist    ⤿ **     la la lost you— niki, david— lorde, mean it— lauv, purple rain— prince.

New York is the kind of city where you can see your past flicker and your future glow. 

as a child, i've always dreamt of the horizons beyond the upper west side— the brownstones, the local bakeries and the high school football field. 

running around with my friends past 7 everyday, watching the sunset, i had always wondered if there was anything beyond the familiar world i had bathed in for 16 years.

that's when i met jay.  ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀—to me, he was the extension of my viewpoint. life felt so much more full— to say the least. with him, it felt like i could let my passions grow, that i could achieve the unachievable. 

he was the one who i had sworn to love up and down. 

i still remember our first kiss— well, it's quite hard to forget.  ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀the minute our lips touched, i felt your warmth; the love, swallowing me. it was a feeling i had never experienced before, a feeling that made me want to continue, a feeling that would later ricochet into the biggest blessing of my life. 

i remember the night i became yours, too. how could i forget? ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀it was sophomore prom, you had asked me with a big corny poster and a dramatic promposal with all of our friends. i called you cringe, and i cried. but what i hadn't told you was that i had never felt more love radiate from someone in my entire life, i felt like i had finally been picked, like i had been chosen. 

our love story started that night.  it looked liked the city skyline from brooklyn bridge during 7pm sunsets; or the barista at the coffee shop around our neighborhood, who had our orders memorized, religiously. 

it looked like the rest of my life. 

until you stepped foot into the airport. you take in the air and you're reminded of the life you've built in New York. you turn around and you're reminded of the life you've built with jay, too.  all the times when you would lay awake in bed, holding onto one another like you were each others only consolity. studying for mid-terms till the clock striked 3am; but even then, none of it felt miserable because you were with him. past you who would've cried herself to sleep would never believe that you were giggling yourself to sleep— laced in the arms of a boy whom you carried so close to your heart. 

you brought yourself back to the airport, you shouldn't be crying now; this was your decision. you chose to abandon your hometown to travel back to your native country— to extend your studies and to explore more of this unfamiliar world. 

you look behind you to the boy holding your suitcase, tears cascading down his pretty face, the look in his eyes begging you for one more day. 

" yn. . . " he suddenly spoke.     " what's wrong? "

" we'll be able to handle long distance well, right? all my friends have broken up with their long distance relationships but— but. . . i know we're not like them, yn. . . we know better than that right? " he took a breath in between, winded from the sobbing, chest heaving. 

" please don't leave. " he huffed out, breaking out into a weep. he leaves your suitcase in the same idle position and rushes forward into your arms, holding you like his closest lifeline. he holds you like you'll disappear the moment he lefts go. you can feel his body trembling against yours, his hands shake. the tears continue to plummet down his face and he is left gasping for air, crying your name. 

" oh. . baby. " you whisper into his ear as you take your hat off, wrapping your arms around his body, you let your tears surge. you ruffle your fingers through his hair, relishing in his warmth. you caress the nape of his neck because you know he loves that. 

" i'll always be here for you, no matter what— and we'll get through this. we'll get through all of it and when i'm back in 4 years— we'll hug, and we'll kiss like before. baby, i promise. " 

" because it's only ever been you, jay. and it will always, forever continue to be you. " 

just like that, your time savored has been cut short. you peel his arms off of you— and when you look up your heart aches at the sight; his swollen eyes, his puffy cheeks. nonetheless, he still forces a smile as he tells you to turn around and start walking. 

you've heard it in videos, on the news, when you see compilations of people parting ways with their families at the airport. the unbearing tactic of having to turn around and put one foot infront of the other despite hearing the cries and pleas from the person behind you. 

you cherish his face, tracing your eyes down every feature, almost memorizing him. immediately once you turn around, you hear his chants, spoken with his hoarse voice. with each step you take, you hear your heart falling apart slowly, brick by brick. 

" baby, don't forget to eat well! "⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀" text me when you're on the plane, okay? "⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀" if anything ever happens, please call me, okay baby? " ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀" i'm so proud of you yn! " ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀" if you ever feel like a stranger— text me. i will never be your stranger. " ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀" i love you so much yn, please stay safe. " 

and just like that, you had left. 

left the city you fought so hard to keep close to your heart— though none of it mattered now. all you can do is stay calm and fight on the world seoul had to offer for you.

you quickly realize seoul was the other half of the horizon you had always wanted to explore. your university, it's beautiful. the 7/11 around the corner, the 4 story library, and your apartment which sat in your complex, waiting for you. 

of course, you hadn't forgotten about jay. you texted him in between every class, and you called him when you got home late, when you needed someone to talk to. he always answered, never missing a beat. 

though as time went on, you felt this cycle reoccuring over and over again. it felt repetitive— staged. it no longer felt natural. you acknowledge that part of this could have been because he was halfway across the world with no other way of reaching you, you felt alone even though you were in love. 

you didn't have anyone else; hell that was far from what you were experiencing. every night after your part-time, you'd come home and lay on your bed wondering if jay was happy, if he was eating out with his friends all the time still, or if he had found someone else to bathe his joy in. that's what you were scared about. 

being so far from him, you started to let the distance settle in, it was impossibly painful but you couldn't do anything about it. 

he stopped picking up all your daily calls; stopped texting back within the minute, and stopped mailing you letters. you thought it was work. we're all busy, aren't we? he told you it was work, so you believed it.

but part of you always knew in the back of your mind that, it was because of how draining this was. 

with a heavy heart and shaking hands, you decide to let him go, to erase yourself from his world.

some would call it a "fresh new start," but for you, it was your love story cut short. 

after deleting all of your previous social media and blocking him on everything, your world dimmed a little; it became quiet. a silence you were never quite used to, a silence you didn't want to get used to.

you'd stay up at night, wondering if this was the right decision. you'd replay your old videos, clips of you and him laying on the benches in central park; clips of you both walking around at MoMa. 

a gallery full of memories, pictures, videos. they were all him, you skimmed through them every night. no matter how badly you tried to delete him from your life to save the pain, you couldn't. every turn around the corner, every song reminded you of him. 

you began to live your life in a haze— almost subconscious. you lived robotically, nothing like the life you used to have. 

just like that, 4 whole years had passed. 4 years of not speaking to him, hearing his voice, seeing his face. although it wasn't his fault, it was yours, you made this verdict. 

" Guns N' Roses 2025 World Tour "

you lept from your seat, the band that you had loved since you were a kid. the band that sat in company with you when things got hard, the band that you and jay bonded over. this was your chance to see them after years of hiatus. 

you scrolled through the dates, 

' europe . . . london, uk. . . asia . . . thailand, bangkok . . ' your eyes scanned the image on your phone. 

finally, you paused at the united states— New York. your favorite band was coming to the state that you had loved more than anything in the world. you hadn't planned to go back so quickly, you wanted to see if the job market here was good, if the living quarters in other provinces were suitable as well. 

but the urge to see them was greater than anything in your mind at that moment, and so you booked the plane tickets. you booked the concert tickets, and surprisingly, scored a pretty decent general admission ticket. you triumphed, finally being able to live out the dream you had longed for since you were a kid. 

as you got off the plane, you surveyed your surroundings. you were in New York again— the city you knew like the palm of your hand, the city that changed everything. when you got off the subway, immediately inhaling the familiar cent of brand new lipstick and smoked cigars. 

you trace your steps back to your mom's house, the same neighborhood. 

honestly, it looked like it hadn't changed much. the same chalk stain on the concrete, the same kids playing in the yard, except now they were so much older. even the scent that lingered was the same.

you were home.

you greet your parents, surprising them with a warm hug, and teary eyes. you quickly settle all of your belongings into your old room, looking out the window at the New York skyline— soaking it all in. you're back, back in the city where you saw your past flicker and your future glow. 

you fell asleep that night wondering about all of your friends, how were they? where were they? you hadn't caught up with anyone yet, you hardly opened your social media. you lift your phone up in the darkness of your room and you open Instagram.

immediately, you're caught up with hundreds of notifications you never bothered to check within the last few months, hundreds of childhood friends asking " yn! your studies are finally over, when will you come back? "

though some of them asked you where you had gone. " yn, are you doing okay? jay can't find you. please contact him as soon as possible, " and others had asked if you were attending the Guns N' Roses world tour, " yn, are you going to the Bangkok stop?! me and my friends wanted to go! "

little did they know you were here, in New York. 

that night you slept realizing everyone had still remembered you, you felt like an imebecile. ghosting everyone, disappearing from their lives like you had never owned that spot in their heart. you didn't deserve them— especially not jay. you told yourself the ultimatum was that you would force yourself to never see him again, you had to save yourself the pain, the suffering. but most importantly— the guilt. 

the guilt of deleting a 6 year relationship from your life like it meant nothing to you. sure you knew it came with heartache, you knew there was absolutely on way you'd be forgiven after this, but that's what you wanted. you wanted him to let go of you, of this. you couldn't be here for him, you wanted him to be with someone who acknowledged his presence. someone who would drive him home when he was drunk, someone who would cook for him and someone who wasn't a thousand miles away in a different continent, ghosting him. 

the day of the concert you awoke to quiet. it was peaceful, you heard your parents chatting downstairs, making breakfast, talking about how excited they were to have you back. you were too, beyond ecstatic.

you quickly got ready. your regular routine you perfected in korea— shower, makeup, hair, outfit.

you went out of the way to buy a cute rock-punk styled outfit in korea for the concert before you came back to New York, you thought it fit well with the vibe. 

you ate the breakfast like you had been starved for the past 5 years, it was so nice to finally taste the familiar cooking again. you swore you could almost cry. 

you waved goodbye to your parents and made your way to the subway station, just like before. you had your phone out, looking for directions of the venue. when you finally got off, you stood right infront of the concert venue, hands clutching your phone like it was a distant dream. it felt unreal, to say the least. 

the rest of the day mainly consisted of buying merch, buying snacks, and waiting hours in line to get your general admission wrist bands. after the chaos, you were finally allowed into the venue.

and god, was it huge. it was bigger than you had imagined, a venue where you would hear your favorite artists' music rebound off the walls. 

you caught a pretty good standing spot in general admission, drink in hand, phone fully charged and storage cleared.  

you had briefly browsed through the setlist beforehand, all amazing songs. as the singers came out and the set started, you had noticed that more people came piling in from all sides. you looked down and realized you were at the very front, clutching onto the border of the barricade walls. " damn, i'm lucky. " you thought, and laughed to yourself. 

when the first notes of "November Rain" were played, you found your heart recognizing that song before your mind did. the song you and jay danced to in the kitchen, the song you would play together when nights got lonely. this song was everything to you. you started to sway your head and hum along to the tune with everyone in the audience. 

somewhere in the midst of all the music, you hear sniffling. almost. . . crying? you open your eyes and scan to the right, going on your tippy toes, wondering if anyone had been hurt.

then you swung your head to the left, scanning the audience; before your eyes landed on him. 

it was jay. 

he had come.

and it was him; it was him who was tearing up to the song. 

your heart stopped, you had never rehearsed for this moment, where you'd ever be seeing him again. you weren't sure how to react, till the tears started flowing and your legs started bottoming out. 

in that moment, you saw his head snap towards you, looking in your direction, 

and then his eyes met yours. 

you couldn't quite grasp the look in his eyes, but it was enough to break you.

as soon as the set ended for "November Rain," you pushed past everyone and quietly left the venue, legs almost bottoming out. 

and then you heard it, his voice. " Y/N! WAIT UP! " 

it was jay. fuck—- his voice made you want to swallow your heartache and point a gun at yourself. it was broken; he was broken. but somehow, all you did was run and push faster.

when you broke past the clear glass doors of the venue, you turned the corner and dived into the nearest alleyway. you had always been scared of the alleys in New York, not to mention at this egregious hour.

just as soon as you thought you had lost him, you hear footsteps. 

and then he appeared, infront of you. 

he was clutching onto his heaving chest, beads of sweat laced on his forehead, tears streaming down his face.

you were surprised, he still had the same face you fell in love with years ago. 

" yn— yn please, don't run anymore. " he said as he inched closer to you, trying to close the distance slowly, not wanting to make you uncomfortable. 

" jay. . . ? " you huffed out, short of breath. 

as he moved closer to you, your body stopped, you couldn't move, it felt suffocating. 

" please don't run, "

" . . i missed you. "

you hadn't noticed it but unshed tears were already glistening from your eyes. 

" jay, i- " 

" please tell me you're real. " he cried out. and for fucks sake— that was your breaking point. your legs bottomed out, your hand reached to hold onto your heart, weeping out whilst staring at the concrete floor. 

immediately, he closes the distance between you both, getting on his knees infront of you and pulling you into his chest. he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you to his chest in a fetus position, cradling you. he ran his fingers through your hair, with his best attempt to calm you down.

on the floor of a random alley in New York, not quite the reunion you had imagined.

" yn, where were you? " he whispered in your ear, arms still laced around your torso. 

" jay, please don't do this. " you attempted to pull back from him, but he saw through you. in return, he forced you back into his arms, pulling on your even harder. 

" yn, you don't need to explain right now— but please, please don't leave me. please, i don't wanna be alone again. "

" will you hold me? let me hold you? that's all i need. yn, i'm begging you. " he sobbed, voice croaking and broken. 

and you did, you cried into each others arms. 

and for the first time in long time— you didn't feel the need to be strong just for yourself. 

though deep down, you knew you didn't deserve any of it, still. his forgiveness, his love, his touch. as selfish as it may sound, it was the last thing on your mind. 

even for someone as "selfish", you let him hold you. 

as the cities final promise, you let him sink his face into your shoulders like before, and you whispered his name like you were struggling to come to terms with his existence. 

you were finally whole— not literally, but with him, it was the closest you'd ever get.  ・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

tysm gais for reading my fic hehe ! ! i'll be opening a perm taglist for this fic since it will come in more parts, so please comment if you'd like to be added ˙ᵕ˙ love u all sm updated jun 14 ⏖⏖ epilogue