My poor.. poor.. Popsticle

JUNGWON sighed, the sound barely escaping his lips as he slouched over his desk. He was early. Again. So early that only you were in the classroom, the two of you like misplaced puzzle pieces in an otherwise empty picture. He rubbed the back of his neck, trying to shake off the awkwardness of being the first ones there, a scenario that was becoming all too familiar.

He let his gaze wander, catching sight of you sitting near the window, staring out into the quiet school grounds. The way you seemed to be waiting for something—anything—to happen, made him almost chuckle. "What else can you do when you're stuck in an empty classroom?" he thought. He considered pulling out his notebook to revise the previous botany lectures, something to pass the time and distract himself from the unbearable silence.

But as he flipped open his notebook, his eyes betrayed him, drifting back to you. The way your hair fluttered in the breeze from the open window caught his attention, almost hypnotizing him. It was like one of those moments in movies where everything slows down, except this wasn't a movie—it was real life, and it was happening to him. Jungwon shook his head slightly, trying to snap out of it, but before he could, you turned and caught him staring.

Time stopped. Or at least, it felt like it. His heart did that weird thing—skipping a beat, maybe doing a backflip, he wasn’t sure—but whatever it was, it was new and unsettling. The worst part? You looked right at him, and for a split second, something electric passed between you. Jungwon nearly dropped his pen, scrambling to look back down at his notes, pretending to be deeply engrossed in the wonders of photosynthesis.

You, on the other hand, felt your own heart jolt, like someone had plugged you into a socket. What was that? You quickly looked away, hoping your cheeks weren't as red as they felt. This was ridiculous. You were just two students, way too early for class, trying to kill time. There was nothing to it… right?

With a final glance at him—now pretending to be the most studious kid in school—you sighed and sat back down at your desk. It wasn't long before more students started to trickle in, breaking the silence and the tension that had settled between you two. As the classroom filled up, you couldn't help but think, "Being early is hectic sometimes. Really hectic." But as you caught Jungwon sneaking another quick glance your way, you couldn't help but wonder if maybe—just maybe—it was worth it.

THE next day, like clockwork, you found yourself back in the empty classroom, early once again. With a resigned sigh, you plopped your bag down on your desk, your eyes immediately drifting to the guy who seemed to share your affinity for punctuality—Jungwon. Of course, he was early again too, sitting there as if he owned the place.

It took every ounce of your self-control not to march right over to him and strike up a conversation. About what? The upcoming exam papers? That seemed like a reasonable excuse. After all, he was the class president, always running around with a stack of papers or trailing behind the teacher like a well-trained puppy. If anyone had a sneak peek at the exam questions, it had to be him.

But before you could gather the nerve, he caught you looking. You quickly looked away, but not before your brain betrayed you and left you staring like a deer in headlights when he asked, "What?"

Your heart skipped a beat, and you scrambled to recover. "What what?" you blurted out, trying to sound nonchalant, though you were sure your voice cracked somewhere in the middle.

"You were staring at me," he said, an amused smile tugging at his lips.

Great. Just great. Here you were, caught red-handed, and by the one guy in school who looked like he stepped out of a teen drama. Seriously, how had you not noticed him before? The way his hair fell perfectly into place, the way his eyes sparkled with that teasing glint—this was the kind of guy you read about in romance novels, not the one you awkwardly shared a classroom with.

You forced yourself to snap out of it, wrestling your thoughts back under control. "I was just…" you started, but the words got stuck somewhere between your brain and your mouth. Think, think! How do you save this? "I was wondering if you knew the questions for the exams… You know?" It was a lame excuse, but half true. You really did want to know if he had the inside scoop, not that he’d share with you.

He didn’t miss a beat, just shrugged and said, "Nope," before burying his nose back in his book like you were nothing more than background noise.

The audacity! Was this guy playing hard to get? Wasn’t that supposed to be your part? Besides, it wasn’t like you were confessing your undying love or anything. You just wanted a little insight into the exams, maybe a shortcut to success, but apparently, that was too much to ask.

You huffed internally, annoyed but also oddly intrigued. After all those rumors you’d heard about him being rude or aloof, maybe they weren’t so far off the mark. But then again, maybe that’s just what made him so damn fascinating. You couldn't help but feel a spark of curiosity mixed with a pinch of frustration.

What was his deal, anyway? You shook your head, determined not to let him get under your skin. If he wanted to play hard to get, then two could play that game.

But as you stole one last glance at him—focused, unbothered, and annoyingly attractive—you couldn’t help but wonder if you’d just found yourself a new challenge. And honestly? The thought of it made you smile.

A MONTH had slipped by, the days blurring together in a repetitive cycle of stolen glances, awkward silences, and unspoken words. Every morning, it was the same routine: you’d arrive early, he’d arrive early, and the two of you would sit in the near-empty classroom, casting furtive looks at each other like middle schoolers with a secret crush. Except this wasn’t middle school, and you weren’t supposed to be developing a crush on Jungwon of all people.

Yet, here you were—completely, utterly smitten with him. It was frustrating, infuriating even. You didn’t know how it happened or when it started, but somehow, you found yourself falling for a guy who was clearly out of your league. And it pissed you off. What kind of cosmic joke was this? The girl who scoffed at romance now reduced to a blushing mess over the class president who barely acknowledged her existence? Ridiculous.

But today, something was different. You were tired of the one-sided staring contest and the endless internal monologues. So, with a surge of courage that surprised even you, you decided to do something about it. You grabbed your pen and a piece of paper, scrawled down a question you could’ve easily looked up on your own, and marched over to his desk, heart pounding like you were about to walk into battle.

Jungwon barely looked up from his book as you slid the paper in front of him, but when he did, the suspicion in his eyes was palpable. “What is this?” he asked, his tone a mix of curiosity and caution, like he was half-expecting you to hand him a bomb.

You swallowed hard, suddenly regretting every life choice that led you to this moment. “Umm… I don’t know this topic,” you muttered, pointing vaguely at the question on the paper. “I was wondering if you could help me out.” The words tumbled out in a rush, and you hated how shy you sounded—like a girl with a crush, which you absolutely, definitely weren’t… except you totally were.

Jungwon raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical, but he didn’t say anything right away. Instead, he just looked at you, really looked at you, and it took everything in you not to melt into a puddle on the floor. The room felt warmer, your cheeks were betraying you with a telltale flush, and you could see him notice, his eyes flickering with a hint of something—amusement, maybe? Or confusion? You weren’t sure, and it only made you more self-conscious.

“You were early, so I thought you’d help,” you added, your voice barely above a whisper now. You cringed internally at how lame that sounded. Was that all you had? The brilliant excuse you came up with after a month of silent pining? Brilliant. Just brilliant.

Jungwon’s gaze softened slightly, and he seemed to hesitate for a moment before speaking. “Okay,” he finally said, his voice gentler than you expected. He picked up the pen, glancing over the question you’d written down. “It’s not that hard, you know. You just need to break it down step by step.”

As he started explaining the topic, you couldn’t help but notice the way his voice lowered slightly, as if he was trying to make the lesson more personal, more focused on just the two of you. Your heart did a little flip, and you cursed yourself for feeling this way. Why did he have to be so… considerate? And why did that make you fall for him even more?

You tried to focus on what he was saying, but your thoughts kept drifting, your eyes tracing the curve of his lips, the way his hair fell into his eyes, the little furrow of concentration on his brow. He was explaining something about the subject, but all you could think was how close you were to him, how easy it would be to just—

“Are you listening?” Jungwon’s voice broke through your reverie, and you blinked, realizing you’d zoned out completely.

“Uh, yeah, totally,” you lied, nodding a little too enthusiastically. “Step by step, right?”

He chuckled softly, the sound making your heart skip a beat. “Yeah, step by step,” he repeated, amusement dancing in his eyes. “Maybe next time, you should ask me before the class starts. I could explain it better.”

You nodded again, feeling your cheeks heat up even more. “I’ll, uh, keep that in mind.”

As he handed the paper back to you, his fingers brushed against yours, sending a jolt of electricity up your arm. You swore you saw the faintest hint of a smile on his lips before he looked back down at his book, as if nothing had happened.

And that was it. Just a simple exchange, a brief conversation. But it left you reeling, your mind spinning with what-ifs and maybes. You hated how much power he had over you, how a simple touch or a single word could leave you breathless.

But as you walked back to your desk, clutching the paper like it was a lifeline, you couldn’t help but feel a tiny spark of hope. Maybe, just maybe, this whole “crush on Jungwon” thing wasn’t as hopeless as you thought.

THE next few days were a blur of poorly disguised excuses and feigned curiosity. You found yourself inventing questions about classwork you didn’t really need help with, hovering around his desk like a moth to a flame, trying to catch his attention in any way possible. Every morning, you’d plan a new approach—subtle, of course, because the last thing you wanted was to make him uncomfortable. But, honestly, you were desperate to see if he was as affected by you as you were by him.

Today was no different, except you decided to up your game. You arrived at school even earlier than usual, the halls eerily quiet as you made your way to the classroom. Your heart pounded in your chest as you placed a can of cold coffee on Jungwon’s desk, trying to steady your nerves by sipping from your own. It wasn’t like you were trying to impress him or anything… okay, maybe you were. Just a little.

When Jungwon looked up from his book, his eyes flickered with surprise. “You didn’t have to,” he muttered, his voice soft but tinged with gratitude.

You waved your hand dismissively, trying to play it cool. “It’s no big deal,” you said, forcing a nonchalant smile. But the truth? You had to beg your older brother for the money to buy those coffee cans. It had taken a solid half-hour of bargaining, and you’d only won him over by sacrificing your stash of snacks for the week. The memory of your brother’s smug grin as he pocketed your snacks made you sigh internally, but you quickly brushed it off. It was worth it, right?

Sliding into the seat next to Jungwon, you tried to strike up a conversation, anything to break the silence. You had liked him for almost two months now, and the thought of not at least trying to get closer to him made your chest tighten with regret.

“So, Jungwon,” you began, doing your best to sound casual. “Do you have a girlfriend?”

He looked up at you, his expression a mix of surprise and curiosity. The question had clearly caught him off guard. After a moment, he shook his head. “No, I don’t.”

You hesitated, feeling your pulse quicken as you pushed the conversation a step further. “What kind of girls do you… like?”

Jungwon blinked, his eyes narrowing slightly as if trying to read your intentions. “Why are you asking?” he countered, his tone a little more guarded, making you freeze in place.

The cold coffee can in your hand suddenly felt like it was made of ice, the chill seeping through your fingers. You hadn’t thought this far ahead. What were you supposed to say now? Your brain scrambled for an answer, but nothing came. It was like your mind had short-circuited under his steady gaze, leaving you utterly defenseless.

“I, um…” you stammered, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. This was a disaster. Why did you think this was a good idea? “Just curious,” you mumbled, barely able to meet his eyes.

Jungwon didn’t say anything for a moment, just watched you with that calm, unreadable expression that always made your heart do funny things. But then, to your surprise, a small, almost imperceptible smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “Curious, huh?” he repeated, and there was something in his tone—something teasing, maybe even amused.

“Yeah,” you breathed, clinging to the tiny thread of hope that he wasn’t about to shut you down entirely. “Just… curious.”

Jungwon glanced down at the coffee can on his desk, then back at you. “Well,” he started slowly, as if choosing his words carefully. “I guess I like girls who are straightforward.”

Straightforward? Your mind raced as you tried to decode the meaning behind his words. Was he saying he liked the fact that you were being direct? Or was this some kind of test? You weren’t sure if you should feel encouraged or even more nervous.

“I see,” you said, nodding slowly as if you understood perfectly, even though your thoughts were all over the place. “That’s… good to know.”

He chuckled softly, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. “You’re something else, you know that?”

Your heart skipped a beat, the compliment—or was it a compliment?—hanging in the air between you. You couldn’t tell if he was being serious or just messing with you, but either way, it made your pulse race.

Before you could muster a response, the first few students began trickling into the classroom, breaking the moment. Jungwon looked away, his attention shifting back to his book, and you were left staring at the side of his face, wondering what the hell just happened.

You bit your lip, trying to suppress the mix of emotions swirling inside you—excitement, embarrassment, maybe even a bit of hope. Whatever this was, it was complicated. But you couldn’t deny that you were falling deeper into this crush with every passing day.

And maybe, just maybe, there was a chance he was starting to notice you too.

THE next day, you walked into the classroom half expecting to see Jungwon in his usual spot, buried in his books or daydreaming out the window. But today, his desk was empty. You paused, staring at the vacant seat with a frown, your eyes immediately darting around the room. His bag was there, resting on the chair, so he was definitely somewhere in the building. But where?

You couldn’t help the surge of worry that bubbled up. Without much thought, you placed your bag on your desk and slipped back out of the classroom, determined to find him. The halls were quiet, the morning light filtering through the windows, casting long shadows on the floor as you passed classroom after classroom.

And then, as you approached the music room, a familiar sound caught your ear. A soft melody strummed on a guitar, followed by a voice so smooth and warm that it made your heart skip a beat.

“But baby I wanna know, I know you feel it too.”

The lyrics, so tender and romantic, made your chest tighten. You couldn’t help yourself; you peeked into the slightly ajar door, and there he was—Jungwon, sitting with a guitar on his lap, singing like he was pouring his soul into the words.

“Tell me, tell me, you feel it too.”

You were mesmerized, almost transfixed by the way his fingers moved effortlessly over the strings, the way his voice filled the room with such raw emotion. It was like stumbling upon a secret that wasn’t meant to be discovered, but now that you had, you couldn’t look away. He was so lost in the music, so unguarded, that it made something flutter in your chest.

Just as you were about to lose yourself completely in the moment, you shifted your weight, causing the door to creak loudly. The sound echoed in the quiet room, and Jungwon’s fingers stilled on the guitar strings. His singing stopped abruptly, and your heart sank as you realized you’d been caught.

You cursed yourself internally, mentally kicking yourself for being so careless. You wanted to disappear, to melt into the floor and never be seen again. Instead, you stood frozen as Jungwon turned to the door, his expression a mix of surprise and something else you couldn’t quite read.

He opened the door wider, and there you were, standing there with guilt written all over your face. “What are you doing here?” he asked, his voice not exactly mad but definitely curious, with a hint of something like embarrassment.

You panicked, your mind racing for an excuse that didn’t sound completely ridiculous. “I, um… I was going to the washroom, but then I heard your voice,” you blurted out, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. The washroom was technically in this direction, so at least that part wasn’t a total lie.

He raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical but not outright dismissive. You could see him weighing your words, trying to decide if you were telling the truth or just making something up on the spot.

Trying to ease the tension, you quickly added, “You sing really well. And you play the guitar really well too.” The compliment slipped out, genuine and a bit rushed, but you hoped it would soften the awkwardness of the situation.

Jungwon’s expression shifted slightly, the corners of his lips curling into a small, almost shy smile. The tension in his shoulders seemed to relax, and you felt a tiny bit of relief wash over you. Maybe you hadn’t completely ruined everything.

“Thanks,” he said, his voice quieter now, almost bashful as he glanced down at the guitar. He looked back up at you, his eyes meeting yours for a brief, intense moment that made your heart skip again.

You stood there, unsure of what to say next, the air between you filled with a strange, charged silence. It wasn’t awkward exactly, but it was… different. Like something had shifted between you, and neither of you knew how to navigate it just yet.

Finally, Jungwon broke the silence, clearing his throat. “I didn’t know anyone was listening,” he admitted, his tone softer now, more open. “I usually come here to practice when no one’s around.”

You nodded, understanding more than you let on. “It was beautiful,” you said, the words coming out before you could stop them. “I’m glad I heard it.”

Jungwon’s eyes flickered with something you couldn’t quite place, but he didn’t say anything else. Instead, he just gave you a small nod, a silent acknowledgment that made your heart flutter.

And as you walked back to class together, the awkwardness faded, replaced by a comfortable silence. You couldn’t help but feel like maybe, just maybe, this was the beginning of something new, something you hadn’t expected but were starting to hope for.

THE next few months, yes, you heard it right—months—were a whirlwind of emotions you never thought you'd experience. You were completely smitten by this guy who, in your eyes, looked nothing short of kissable—ehm, cute. Every time you saw him, it was like a bolt of lightning hit you, sending sparks through your entire being. It was like he was a magnetic force, drawing you in with his every move, his every smile.

You started arriving at school even earlier, just to have those few extra minutes with him before the day officially began. He started bringing you little snacks—well, snack singular, really—usually just a small chocolate bar. It wasn't much, but it was the only thing allowed in school, and it made your heart race every time he handed it to you with that shy, slightly awkward smile. The chocolate bars were small gestures, but to you, they felt like grand romantic declarations.

And now, six months in, you were head over heels. The urge to confess your feelings grew stronger every day, especially when you watched him sing in the music room. There was something about the way he lost himself in the music, the way his fingers moved over the guitar strings, that made your heart ache with the need to tell him how you felt. But every time the words bubbled up in your throat, you'd swallow them down, too scared of what might happen if you actually let them out.

This morning, like so many before, you found yourself sitting in the music room before anyone else arrived, watching him with love-struck eyes as he sang. He was completely in his element, and you couldn’t help but stare, completely mesmerized. Could he see it in your eyes? Could he feel the way your heart beat just a little bit faster every time he looked your way?

And then, suddenly, the sound of footsteps echoed in the hallway, snapping you both out of your reverie. Jungwon’s eyes widened in panic as he quickly placed the guitar down, his gaze darting around the room like a trapped animal. You could feel the tension in the air as he turned to you, his expression a mix of fear and determination.

Without a word, he grabbed your hand, pulling you to your feet. His touch sent a jolt through you, but there was no time to dwell on it as he led you to the window. Your heart was pounding in your chest as he pushed the window open, glancing back at you with a look that said he was out of options. Then, with a quick, fluid motion, he climbed out the window and jumped down, landing on the grass below with surprising grace.

You peered out the window, your stomach twisting in knots as you looked at the distance to the ground. It wasn’t that far, but it wasn’t exactly close either. Your mind raced with all the possible ways this could go wrong—what if you broke something? What if you landed awkwardly and twisted your ankle? But before you could spiral too far, Jungwon’s voice cut through your thoughts.

“Jump!” he called up to you, his arms outstretched, as if swearing that he'd catch you. His expression was serious, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine. He was right—if you didn’t jump, you’d both be in trouble. But still, the fear gripped you, rooting you to the spot.

“No,” you muttered, shaking your head as you stared down at him. The distance suddenly seemed much greater from where you were standing, and the thought of hurling yourself out the window made your legs feel like jelly. What if you really did break something?

Jungwon's brows furrowed in concern, but there was no time to waste. He glanced back toward the door, hearing the footsteps growing louder, closer. “I promise, I’ll catch you,” he urged, his voice softening but still firm. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, and for a moment, you were torn between the fear that held you back and the trust that urged you forward. His eyes were so sincere, so full of determination that you felt a wave of warmth wash over you. He was standing there, arms wide open, waiting for you—willing you to trust him.

Taking a deep breath, you squeezed your eyes shut and jumped. The world seemed to blur around you for a split second, and your stomach flipped as you felt the rush of air against your skin. But just as quickly as it started, it ended—your feet didn’t even touch the ground before you felt strong arms wrapping around you, steadying you, holding you close.

You opened your eyes, and there he was, right in front of you, his face mere inches from yours. For a moment, neither of you moved, the world around you fading away as you got lost in each other’s gaze. His arms were still around you, and you could feel the warmth of his body, the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed.

“See? I told you I’d catch you,” he whispered, a small, teasing smile tugging at his lips.

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding, your own lips curving into a smile. “I guess I owe you one,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Maybe you can pay me back with another chocolate bar,” he teased, his tone light and playful, but there was something else there too—something softer, more intimate.

You could’ve said something witty or sarcastic—anything to break the tension—but your thoughts were abruptly hijacked when you caught sight of the small, wriggling creature on your school shirt's sleeve. A worm. Your stomach flipped in disgust, and a scream threatened to burst from your lips. It was so small, so insignificant, yet so utterly terrifying in that moment. Your heart pounded in your chest as you stared at the offending creature, unable to move or even breathe.

But before you could make a sound, before that scream could escape, something else captured your attention entirely.

Jungwon’s lips were suddenly on yours, soft yet firm, silencing the scream before it could even start. Your eyes widened in shock, your brain struggling to catch up with what was happening. He was kissing you. Kissing. You.

You barely registered his hand brushing the worm off your sleeve, the disgusting creature forgotten in the instant that his lips met yours. All you could focus on was the warmth of his mouth against yours, the way his breath mingled with yours, the way his hand gently cupped the back of your neck as if reassuring you that everything was okay.

Your entire body froze, every nerve ending buzzing with electricity. You’d never been kissed before—not like this, not by someone who made your heart race and your knees weak. Your hands hovered awkwardly by your sides, unsure of where to go or what to do. How did one kiss back? What were you supposed to do with your lips, your tongue, your everything? Your mind raced, but the longer he kissed you, the more you began to relax into it, the fear and anxiety melting away, replaced by something warm and sweet.

Jungwon didn’t pull away. Instead, he deepened the kiss, his lips moving against yours in a way that was both gentle and insistent, coaxing a response from you. You could feel the heat rising in your cheeks, your inexperience obvious, but he didn’t seem to mind. If anything, he seemed to find it endearing. His hands slid down to your waist, drawing you closer, and you could feel the reassuring strength in his grip.

Hesitantly, you began to kiss him back, your movements tentative, unsure. You tried to mimic what he was doing, the way his lips moved, the way he tilted his head just so. It wasn’t perfect—far from it, actually—but Jungwon seemed more than happy to guide you, his lips teaching yours, patiently, sweetly.

Every nerve in your body was on high alert, your senses overwhelmed by the closeness of him, the smell of his cologne, the warmth of his skin against yours. Your heart was hammering in your chest, so loud you were sure he could hear it, but he didn’t say anything. He just kept kissing you, his touch gentle yet firm, as if he had all the time in the world to show you how this worked.

The world outside that window, the risk of getting caught, the fear that had gripped you moments before—all of it vanished, leaving just the two of you in this moment. The air was charged with tension, the kind that made your skin tingle and your thoughts scatter like leaves in the wind. The kiss was both an anchor and a storm, grounding you even as it swept you away.

After what felt like an eternity—but was probably only a few seconds—Jungwon finally pulled back, his lips lingering on yours for just a moment longer before he looked at you, his breath mingling with yours in the small space between you. His eyes were dark and unreadable, filled with a thousand unspoken things that made your heart flutter all over again.

You opened your mouth to say something—anything—but the words got tangled up in your throat, your mind still reeling from what had just happened. Your lips tingled from the kiss, your heart still racing like it was trying to break free from your chest.

Jungwon’s thumb brushed gently across your cheek, his touch light and comforting. “Sorry,” he whispered, though the small, crooked smile on his lips told you he wasn’t really sorry at all. He looked at you with that same intensity that had drawn you to him in the first place, and you felt your breath hitch in your throat all over again.

You shook your head, words still eluding you. What was there to be sorry for? He’d kissed you—kissed you—and even if it had been a spur-of-the-moment thing, a way to keep from getting caught, it had been perfect. Terrifying and thrilling and absolutely perfect.

“Are you okay?” he asked softly, his voice a low murmur that made your heart do somersaults in your chest.

You nodded, finally finding your voice, though it was much softer than you intended. “Yeah… I’m… I’m okay.”

His smile widened just a bit, a hint of mischief dancing in his eyes. “Good,” he said simply, as if that was all that mattered.

You stood there, your mind still trying to process everything that had just happened, your lips still tingling from his kiss. You wanted to say something more, to let him know how much that kiss had meant to you, but before you could, the sound of footsteps outside the window snapped you both back to reality.

Jungwon’s eyes flicked toward the door, his expression becoming serious again. He gently took your hand, squeezing it reassuringly before leading you away from the window, back into the safety of the school grounds. But even as you walked, the memory of his kiss lingered, warm and sweet, a secret just for the two of you to share.

Sukuna doesn’t bother to look at him. His gaze stays glued to you, watching you laugh with Shoko, and a small, proud tilt curls at the corner of his mouth.

"Hard not to," Sukuna rumbles. "She looks way too damn good for a place like this."

"Right?" the stranger says, taking another slow sip of his drink, clearly taking that agreement as an invitation to keep talking. His gaze drags over Sukuna’s massive build, the plain shirt, joggers, and face tattoos, and a cocky smirk appears on his face, like he’s already decided he’s got the upper hand. “Hottest woman in here, hands down. Gorgeous, carries herself well, and that smile… I was just about to head over, buy her a drink, see where the night takes us.”

Sukuna finally turns his head, sizing the man up with calm, almost lazy interest. He’s objectively handsome—tall, impeccably groomed, his shirt tailored tight over a sharp, well-built frame. He looks like the type who’s used to getting whatever he wants and moves through the world with the confidence that says he’s never had to fight for attention.

"Yeah?" Sukuna rasps, amusement flickering in his eyes as the man keeps embarrassing himself.

"I mean, c'mon, look at her," the stranger continues, sipping his drink. "She looks like she’s got real standards. Probably has a great job, drinks the good stuff. She needs a guy who knows how to keep up with her and actually treat her right."

Leaning back against the bar, Sukuna crosses his massive arms over his chest, thoroughly entertained by the sheer audacity of it all. Listening to a complete stranger explain what kind of man his wife needs is absurd enough that he's more than happy to let him keep digging his own grave.

"Yeah, she’s something else alright," Sukuna drawls. "You really think she'd go for you?"

"Oh, I know she would," the man replies, adjusting his cuff with a smug grin. "I've got the job, the car, the looks. Women like her know a good thing when they see it."

A deep, amused huff rumbles out of Sukuna. If this idiot so much as crossed a real line, he’d snap his neck without a second thought. For now, though, watching this polished suit walk himself straight into a wall is way too funny to interrupt.

"You've got it all figured out, huh?"

"Hey, confidence gets results," the stranger says, grinning. “Tell you what—friendly wager.” He reaches into his pocket, pulls out his leather wallet, fishes out a crisp, high-value bill, and slides it across the bar between them. "This says I'll have her number and a kiss before the night's out."

Sukuna tilts his head, a wicked smirk slowly spreading across his face.

"Alright,” he says. “Mind if I go first?"

The stranger gives Sukuna one last once-over, lingering on the intimidating ink on his face, the back of his neck, and the lines wrapping around his wrists and biceps. To him, Sukuna looks like someone who got lost on his way home from the gym, or maybe a prison, though he’s a little too well-kept for that. He lets out a dismissive chuckle, already certain there's no way a woman like you would give a brute in joggers the time of day.

"Go right ahead, man," the guy says, waving him on. "Show me how it's done. No chance in hell you're pulling her."

"Watch," Sukuna says simply, pushing off the bar and walking across the floor, his massive frame cutting right through the crowded room.

Over by the bar, you're mid-sentence when a broad, warm palm gently taps your shoulder. You turn around, and the moment your eyes land on your husband, your whole face lights up.

"Hey," you breathe, the sight of him instantly making your cheeks flush warm. He looks stupid hot tonight, towering over everyone around him.

Sukuna steps in so close that your back presses into the edge of the bar, his body boxing you in until there's nowhere else to go. He pulls his phone from his pocket, unlocks it, and hands it to you, leaning down until his mouth hovers right at your ear.

"Can you look up that Korean place we went to, like, two months ago?" he rumbles, his voice low and soft against your ear, his warm breath sending a shiver racing down your spine. "I can't remember the name."

"Oh, so now you need me?" you tease, but your fingers are already flying over the screen. "Yeah, hang on…"

Across the room, the man at the bar narrows his eyes, watching you take Sukuna's phone without a hint of hesitation and immediately start tapping away. He smirks, swirling the melting ice in his glass, already convinced he's seen this play before. Classic move, he thinks, assuming you're just typing in a fake number to get the giant out of your personal space. He's already rehearsing his opening line for when Sukuna walks away empty-handed.

You hand the phone back to Sukuna, a triumphant little smile tugging at your lips. "Found it."

“Thanks, baby,” Sukuna murmurs, sliding the phone into his pocket.

His palm reaches up, fingers gently catching your chin, and he tilts your face up to his. Leaning down, he presses a soft kiss to your lips, sweet, unhurried, and so deliberate it makes your heart skip a beat. When he pulls back just a breath, his crimson eyes catch yours, gleaming with smug, mischievous heat. A knowing smirk tugs at his mouth as he shifts his weight, about to step away.

Across the bar, the guy rolls his eyes, muttering, “A polite peck? That doesn't count for shit—"

He doesn’t even get to finish the thought. The second Sukuna starts to pull away, your hands fly up, and your fingers twist tight into the front of his shirt. You yank him back down, but even then, you still have to rise onto your toes, stretching just to reach him. Your mouth crashes into his in a kiss that’s deep, intense, and filthy enough to strip away any composure he might have had left.

A low, surprised rumble vibrates against your lips before Sukuna's arm snaps around your waist and his other hand finds the nape of your neck, pulling you flush against his chest. He only deepens the kiss, his thumb digging into your hip while you cling to his shirt just to keep him close.

The stranger hasn’t moved at all, his jaw practically welded to the floor. His eyes are wide, blown out in pure shock, watching as the gorgeous woman he’d been so sure about just yanked a terrifying brute down for a kiss that leaves nothing to the imagination.

"What the fuck..." he mutters, staring in disbelief. "No way he actually pulled that off..."

Toji passes by on his way to the bathroom and hears the words. Without even slowing his pace, he just glances at the man’s stunned expression, lets out a dry, wheezing chuckle, and deadpans over his shoulder, “That's his wife, moron."

By the time your grip loosens and you drop back onto your heels, your breath is ragged, lips flushed and tingling, and you’re staring up at your husband with nothing but shameless, unfiltered adoration.

Sukuna’s thumb drags slowly across your lower lip, tugging it just a little, while a broad, utterly satisfied grin stretches across his face.

“Good girl,” he rasps, lowering his voice, and the praise sends a jolt right between your legs.

"Every fucking time," Shoko groans from the side. "One drink and you're attached to him again."

"You say that like I'm complaining," Sukuna chuckles.

"I fail to see the problem either," you chirp with a shameless grin.

Shoko shakes her head at you, then looks at your husband. "You know, I used to have a lot less patience for you. It's annoying how much harder you've become to stay mad at."

Sukuna just snorts at that.

"Anyway," he says, giving your waist one last squeeze before glancing at the rest of the group. "You girls joining us at the booth?"

"Yeah, yeah, we'll be there in a minute. Now shoo," Yuki says, waving him away. "We've got gossip to catch up on first."

Sukuna just lifts his hands in mock surrender, huffing an amused laugh as he turns on his heel and heads back toward the stranger waiting at the end of the bar.

“Easiest money I've made all week,” he drawls, picking up the bill. He gives the stunned man a small nod and walks toward his friends at the booth.

Today was one of those rare days that you and your high school friends get to go out and hangout in a cafe. Catching up, gossiping, and complaining over your university’s affairs and experiences. It has been a while since your last hangout, so all of you eagerly ordered your respective drinks and found a table.

Once sat, you can’t help but feet the lingering stare on you – so you looked up and saw someone, a cute guy may I add, staring back at you before quickly averting their gaze, as if shocked by being caught.

You only raised a brow in question, but didn’t voice out your concern to your friends. Instead, the chattering in your little group began immediately.

As you chatter and laugh with your friends, you can't help but feel the gaze still on you, so you keep looking up. Each time, your eyes meet with the cute guy; each time, he gets bolder, and his stare increases in seconds. You noted that he's with his friends, similar to yours, hanging out and catching up. But he was distracted, clearly. Even when he's speaking, every time you glance his way, his eyes are on you or just about to leave your direction.

At one point, he leaned against the wall beside him, getting brave and shooting you a small smile when he catches your eyes. Normally, you would've been weirded out, but this guy is cute. Like hella cute. Cute in a ‘he's definitely my type’ cute.

You feel giddy, excitement rushing up your body that you can't help but throw back a smile.

A giggle almost slips out of you when he visibly perks up from that – the corners of his lips raising even more when you reciprocate his gesture.

Just as you were about to continue the shy glances and small smiles exchange with the stranger, your friend that is sat beside you suddenly nudges your side with her shoulder, “Care to introduce us with the stranger you've been looking at~?” she teased.

Embarrassed at getting caught, heat rises up your cheeks as you nudge her back, the whole table suddenly looking around to “subtly” look at the man that was mentioned.

“Oh my gosh, you guys are being so obvious!” you quietly hissed, trying not to flail your arms around. Seeing the guy shoot your friends a smile when he sees them inspecting him, a chorus of teases rises from them.

“Ohh~ He's not shy of us.”

“I like him. I approve.”

“He's so cute for you!”

“Shut it! He’s just being nice.” you tried to diffuse, but their attacks on you kept going. Until you had to hold your cheeks to try and contain your fluster.

Though when you peek at him, you saw the amusement lingering in his eyes as he lets a chuckle slip out from your demise – before his attention was stripped away with his own friends teasing him back.

⏔⏔⏔ ꒰ ᧔ෆ᧓ ꒱ ⏔⏔⏔

One by one, your friends started leaving the cafe – having life to catch up to – until you and the friend that teased you first, was left.

The conversation between you two drifted away from the man earlier. Eventually though, she too has to leave, and so, you decided it’s also time for you to take your leave as well.

As you gather your things, your friend abruptly stands up and stops mid-talk “Well, I gotta go now!” as she passed by you, she pats your shoulder “Good luck~”

Confusion settles on your face, before you could even call out to her as you turn, you're faced with someone’s chest – and when you eyes drifts up– it was him! The cute guy!

The words die down your throat as you stare, unsure of what to do; thankfully, he handled it and spoke first.

“Hi.”

Oh. Oh! He has an accent. Oh gosh, his accent is just as cute as him.

“Hi.” you greet back, still staring.

A smile was on his lips, then he moved to the chair across from you “Mind if I sit?”

“Yes– I mean, no! Go on.” with your approval, he sat down, getting comfortable and resting his arms on the table.

“My name is Jake,” he starts off, offering his hand for you to shake – which you did, saying your name back – and he continues, “I don't mean to come off too strong, and I'm sorry if I kept staring at you earlier. I just find you really cute, and I like your whole outfit – which honestly caught my attention. I just want to shoot my shot and see if I can get your number?”

He’s cute and direct? Apologized for the staring? Straight to the point? Thought you and your outfit to be cute enough to get his attention? You're sold!

Snapping out of your dazed trance, you smiled back at Jake, feeling bashful at his honest admiration, “Y-yeah! Sure!” stumbling over your words, you also stumbled with your hands when you got his phone to put your number in.

You heard him mutter “cute” under his breath when he thinks you can't hear him while you type your number. This only made you shake even more from nerves. But you pushed through it and sent hour own number a text so you can save his number.

“Here.” returning his phone, his hand grazed against yours and it felt as though a shock of electricity ran through your body.

“Nice to meet you, Jake.” you say, almost bashful, still in disbelief that someone as handsome as him approached you.

“Mhm, see you later.” he bid you farewell, staying sat on the chair, but his eyes watch your every move. Observing the way you stood up, waving a hand as you turned to him and waved farewell.

As you pushed out the door, you glanced back inside the cafe through the glass and met his eyes. You waved one more time and shoot him a smile before walking away.

You hope this little encounter leads to something more.

🕸️ Spidey Jake! who accidentally leaves a tiny drop of nacho cheese on his spider man mask. this causes the stray cats at haven to aggressively lick his face while he is trying to take his 3:00 AM power nap. lmao

🕸️ Spidey Jake! who saved his nemesis jay from getting burned while grilling sweet corn in his backyard. poor jongsaeng.

🕸️ Spidey Jake! who loves hearing people praise spider man. the next day, jay dramatically tells the whole class how spider man saved him. he points at jake, calls him useless, and compares him to the hero. "i shouldn't have saved you last night, bitch," jake whispers to himself.

🕸️ Spidey Jake! who is not careful with his identity at all. his seatmate sunghoon asks him, "wait, you saved him—?" jake quickly tells a not-so-convincing lie and tells sunghoon to fuck off. but jake is a terrible liar, and sunghoon does not believe him at all.

🕸️ Spidey Jake! who chokes on his grape ade almost to death when sunghoon bumps his shoulder in the hallway, showing all 32 of his teeth and calling him, "jakey jakey spidey jerky." 😭

🕸️ Spidey Jake! who sneaks out from their overnight group project, making up an excuse that he has diarrhea. but he'll just save someone who's in danger in a nearby area. jay and sunghoon weren't convinced and suspiciously followed him outside. luckily, thanks to his spider instincts, he gets away from them quickly.

🕸️ Spidey Jake! who comes back after 15 minutes, sweating and panting hard with loops of spider web all over his arms and clothes. he tells them he just went outside for fresh air after shitting and walked to the garbage area to throw away his empty soda can, but a dog barked at him furiously and made him jump inside the dumpster. poor jake, the two guys are not buying his lies at all.

🕸️ Spidey Jake! who is strolling down the campus street after saving someone from being bullied inside a dark alley.

🕸️ Spidey Jake! who is being followed closely by sunghoon and jay because they are dying to find out his real identity and wants spider man signature.

🕸️ Spidey Jake! who quickly senses that he is being followed, so he lures them away and uses his webs to jump onto the campus dormitory building.

🕸️ Spidey Jake! who is shocked to see that he landed right outside his crush's dorm window. he had absolutely no idea that this was your room.

🕸️ Spidey Jake! who accidentally sees you changing into your sleepwear while he is stuck to your glass window with his sticky spider web. he swears to himself that it was a total accident.

🕸️ Spidey Jake! who loses his balance when you suddenly spot him and yell at him for being a pervert sneaking out at 12:00 AM. he panics and falls straight into the bushes below. luckily, your room is only on the second floor, and his mask hides his face. otherwise, he would be too ashamed to ever look at you again.

🕸️ Spidey Jake! who arrives at school much earlier than usual, making everyone in class stare. he is covered in bruises and limping in pain while holding his sore back. as the class president, you stare at him worriedly and ask if he needs to go to the clinic.

🕸️ Spidey Jake! who blushes like tomato at your kindness and instantly remembers how gorgeous you looked last night. he quickly shakes the thought out of his head, curses himself mentally, murmurs a quick "thank you," and hurries to his desk.

🕸️ Spidey Jake! who notices sunghoon and jay whispering and staring at him intensely. he just shrugs his shoulders and tries to mind his own business.

🕸️ Spidey Jake! who has to listen to jay and sunghoon brag to the class about how they "almost caught spider man outside the girls' dormitory."

🕸️ Spidey Jake! who is washing his hands in the school bathroom when sunghoon walks in, and points out the black spider emblem peeking out from his unbuttoned shirt, and stops dead in his tracks.

Oh shoot…

taglist: @hoonguin @jakeycakeys @simjaeyunlvrclub @ni-kiluvzxo @livonianmaia @kristynaaah @heesunghoo @enhtt

jungwon was a confusing type of weird. the good kind of weird that nourishes your soul, as he would say.

he enjoyed making random noises when he was bored to fill the silence, he talked to himself even when you were there. hell, he would even make ridiculous faces when nobody was expecting it.

“he’s weird,” your friend would say, and you’d smile in response— like you always do.

“I know,” you’d answer, you never denied that jungwon was a bit weird, but he was still your loving boyfriend.

“…and you’re okay with that?” they’d ask, their tone laced with confusion— they always seemed like they missing something they weren’t seeing.

you’d just stare, before smiling even harder, “unfortunately.”

of course, you loved it.

especially when your boyfriend would use his weirdness to make you feel better.

like today.

you’d been having a pretty awful day, and jungwon noticed immediately. for him, when you loved someone so much— it was kind of hard not to notice.

“what’s wrong baby?” he inched closer to you, finding your hand and intertwining his fingers with yours.

“nothing,” you flinched a bit at the sudden contact, before melting against his touch and letting out a sigh you didn’t even know you were holding. “I’m just tired.”

he frowned a little, clearly unconvinced.

if jungwon could have a superpower, you were pretty sure it’d be mind reading, just so he could know whenever you were feeling bad and figure out exactly what you needed before you even had to ask.

but thankfully, he always knew what you needed.

“just… let me stay close to you.”

he tightened his hold on your hand for a split second before moving closer, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his cheek against your shoulder.

he sat beside you, quietly keeping you company for a while.

then, without warning, jungwon stood up. you pouted a bit, now feeling empty as your boyfriend just left your embrace, you looked at him.

“won, where are you going?”

he didn’t answer.

instead, he started walking towards you with tiny steps, his arms stiff at his sides with his face completely serious.

he was moving like a robot.

you stared, mouth slightly agape.

“what the...”

he kept walking towards you, his arms occasionally stopping mid-motion as if he were glitching.

“beep. beep.” he replied, trying to make his tone robotic and failing miserably. you bit your lower lip— trying to suppress a laugh.

“okay, what are you doing?”

“Im approaching you.” he answered, still completely serious.

“why?”

jungwon took another tiny step forward, his movements becoming even more exaggerated as he pretended to glitch.

his arms suddenly froze in place, his eyes widening slightly as he made a quiet, mechanical beep before slowly turning his head towards you.

“because my baby looks sad.”

that did it.

a laugh slipped out of you, and you quickly covered your face with both hands in an attempt to hide your smile. you could feel your cheeks hurting from how hard you were trying not to laugh, but jungwon had already caught you.

the corners of his lips curled upwards, his expression immediately softening when he saw you finally smiling again.

“look at you,” he said, sounding almost proud of himself, “that’s better.”

“you’re so weird.” you lowered your hands, shaking your head as you looked at him.

jungwon only shrugged, a small smile still playing on his lips.

“but you’re smiling.”

“yeah. because you’re stupid.” you couldn’t argue with that. you were still giggling as you reached out to lightly push his arm.

“a stupid boyfriend?”

“very.”

he smiled at that, finally dropping his ridiculous robot act as he sat back down beside you.

his shoulder gently bumped against yours, and he stayed close instead of pulling away, his hand finding yours again and giving it a small squeeze.

“well,” he murmured, glancing at you with a soft smile, “as long as my pretty girl is smiling, i don’t care.”

your cheeks warmed at the pet name, and you quickly looked away, suddenly feeling shy under his gaze. of course, jungwon noticed immediately.

his smile turned softer, almost teasing, as he leaned in just a little closer. “baby?” he hummed. “you’re blushing now?”

“i’m not,” you mumbled, but your voice crack made it seem otherwise.

he let out a quiet laugh, clearly pleased with your reaction, before gently cupping your cheek and pressing a soft kiss there. it was quick, it was nothing but at the same time everything to him. it made your entire face heat up instantly.

you froze.

“jungwon…” you whispered, covering your face with both hands the second he pulled away.

he laughed properly this time, low and fond, he was clearly enjoying how flustered you were. “you’re cute,” he said simply.

“stop,” you mumbled into your hands.

instead of listening, he gently pulled your hands away from your face, holding your wrists lightly so you couldn’t hide. then, without warning, he made the most ridiculous face he could— eyes wide, lips slightly parted, unserious.

you stared at him for half a second, and then you burst out laughing.

“what is that face?” you managed between giggles.

jungwon grinned, clearly satisfied with himself, and leaned in again— this time pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

it was brief but so natural that it only made your heart race more.

when he pulled back, you immediately covered your face again, this time even more dramatically.

he sighed, amused, and gently pried your hands away once more. “no hiding,” he said softly.

then he made the same ridiculous face again, even worse this time.

and you laughed all over again.

he smiled at you like he’d won something important.

“there,” he said quietly. “that’s my girl.”

maybe your friends were right.

jungwon was weird.

but he was your weird boyfriend. and you wouldn’t have him any other way.

Hi I Hope this is good. 🙂 pls say yes

He kept nodding to himself, muttering words to be more encouraged and when he sees you waving your friends goodbye, he's sprinting towards you.

You hear your name from your back, someone screaming repeatedly at you as the footsteps get louder. You turn around with your eyebrows furrowed and a scary look on your face until you see that's just Bokuto running towards you.

"Oh hi, Bokuto-kun." You smile at him while he still has two steps to reach you, when he sees your cheeks make your eyes smaller, he almost trips.

"Hey!" He says, too loud as well.

His voice echoes down the hallway, he skids to a stop right in front of you, chest heaving from the sprint, and for a second he just stares with wide golden eyes. Then he remembers the flowers.

"Um, these! These are for you!" Bokuto blurts out, whipping the bouquet from behind his back so fast a couple petals flutter to the floor.

It's a big, bright mix of yellow sunflowers and soft pink carnations, tied with a simple ribbon that looks a little crooked like he wrapped it himself. His hands are shaking just a tiny bit as he holds them out to you.

You blink, surprised but in the softest way. "Bokuto-kun… wow. These are really pretty." You take the bouquet gently, fingers brushing against his for just a heartbeat.

He rubs the back of his neck. "I wanted to thank you for helping me so much with that test! I wouldn't have done it without you staying late to explain me everything." His voice gets louder with each words, then drops suddenly in case he's scaring you off. "So yeah, thank you! I hope I picked the right flowers!"

Your heart does a little flip at how earnest he sounds. You lift the bouquet closer and breathe in the sweet scent, smiling the whole time.

"You really didn't have to get me anything, you know? I had fun studying with you." You tilt your head, teasing him softly. "But thank you. I love them."

Bokuto's face lights up, a huge grin spreads across his cheeks, turning them pink. Then he gets really serious. "You're not allergic to pollen right?"

You shake your head, stepping a little closer without even thinking. "I'm not allergic."

He looks so genuinely happy, giving you those flowers made his whole week. Bokuto shifts on his feet, looking around the empty hallway, trying to get his thoughts together. "You're really cool, by the way. And super smart and fun." He scratches his cheek, glancing away and then right back at you. "Maybe we could hang out again sometime?"

"Oh, you got another exam coming?" you ask, without thinking about it much.

Bokuto opens his mouth and closes it. "Uh no, that was my last exam! I was thinking about just hanging out together, we could go get ice cream or something like that."

"Oh!" Your eyes widened, finally understand that he was asking you out. You nod fast now, your own cheeks warming a little. "I'd love to!"

He pumps his fist without meaning to, then catches himself and beams at you with pure sunshine energy. "Yes! Okay, awesome! I'll come pick you up tomorrow!"

a/n: prettiest boy in all haikyu

You know that he's always been a respectful alpha, a gentleman through and through. Even that does not change when he's finally dating you. The hug you shared in your nest is the most intimate, closest point of contact the two of you have ever done. Beyond that point, Jay remains the perfect gentleman that he is—and he's damn consistent and running a strict program with it.

A warm hand on your waist to guide you through the crowd. That's it. A kiss on your hands whenever he picks you up. That's it. A lingering smooch on your forehead when he's feeling extra giddy. That's it.

That's. It. Not a even a peck on your lips.

And it's starting to annoy you.

You see, you're an omega alright, but omegas have desires too—especially when it comes to their alpha. It's no denying that you want his touch to linger, his hands to travel further, his mouth to get wilder.

It's not an embarrassing thing to admit, okay? And what an omega to do when they have a partner as handsome and well-built as Jay—someone who'd never raise his voice no matter how bratty you're behaving, someone who never sighs whenever you're met with yet another problem?

Is it so wrong to want him to fuck you?

But no, that alpha just has to be a fucking gentleman. He doesn't dare let his hands do anything more than a respectful touch, a brush of fingers that you think about every night more than you'd like to admit. He even sends you to your family home when your heat is about to hit—saying that he does not want to burden you with the choice of having to spend it with him just because he's finally your boyfriend.

What the fuck is he talking about? You do want his knot!

This feeling of constant sexual frustration on the alpha that you love to death but can't seem to get your hints is accummulating, and it's literally an inevitable canon event when you reach your point one freaking night.

You were having a night out with the rest of Jay's friends. The alpha, as usual, sat close to you, but he never let his hands caress you the way you want him to. It's when Riki had drunkenly joked about Jay being the community gentleman and had, at one point, even been willing to spend his omega's heat with him, that you felt the ticking bomb in your head explode.

You knew about it. Of course you did. Jay would never hurt you, so he clarified everything that might warrant a misunderstanding or a fight later if not cleared now. You didn't feel jealous—no, it's not that. You love Riki's mate too, she's been one of your best friends now—which is a whole Guinness world record in itself, because you had a seriously ill attitude with female relationships before.

But you felt this tremendous frustration bubbling over, because yes, he is a gentleman, but what does this say about him not wanting to touch you, when he was ready to help a friend in such a way?

You felt so, ridiculously upset. Because you notice everything.

Notice the way his stare lingers on your chest, notice the way his eyes drop to your lips whenever you pout or when the ramyeon is too spicy it makes your lips swell, notice the way his breath hitches when you rest your legs over his thighs during movie nights, notice all of his wants and desires even when he fails to convey them properly.

And he's…holding himself back when you don't even want him to.

You had pouted all the way home, refusing to give him even a response when he had thrown you questions, replying to him with a silent treatment that you know he dislikes. Something about him telling you, 'Please communicate with me whenever you're upset' seemed to fly over your head, and you felt the exact moment Jay left the conversation for when you reach the confines of your walls when he finally went quiet.

Which explains your position now, craddling his hips with your thighs as you sit comfortably in his lap, a protruding pout forming on your lips. Unlike his usual habit of maintaining a respectful distance from you, he had grabbed your wrist the moment you crossed the door earlier and forced you to sit in his lap and talk to him.

It seems like the patient alpha is slowly losing his grip. You smile triumphantly inside.

"What's the matter, hm?" His voice is rougher than usual, pitched lower from exhaustion and the quiet of the night, but is still edged with the softness he reserves only for you. "You ignored me all the way home. You even refused to look at me when I tried to talk to you. What did I say about communication, baby?"

On any other day, you often take pride in how put-together and gentleman your alpha is, compared to the many assholes walking around the campus out there. But sometimes, he's too much of a green flag that it leaves you thirsty for more; desperate to see him just a little loose and rough.

You decide to stretch whatever patience he has thinner and longer, so you throw your face away and do the exact thing he told you not to. Not even your favourite pet name could fix this attitude.

There's a resounding silence, and you could've sworn you heard his jaw tick, before a thumb and a forefinger pinch your chin and turn your face back to him.

"Y/N. Tell me now. What did I do?" Jay demands, tilting your head slightly down. "Why are you being a brat again?"

There. You have it. When Jay starts calling you a brat, it means you have really gotten on his nerves. It's the only time you could catch even a glimpse of a frustrated Jay, an alpha losing his cool and wanting to gather back the air of dominance that seems to dissipate whenever you pull this stunt.

When Jay starts calling you a brat, you know that you finally have him where you want him to be.

With a deeper pout, you finally say. "You don't like me."

It's a simple sentence, but you're sure it drives him crazy. Jay would give his whole heritance to you if you asked him to, so this accusation, you're confident, will strike him where he never expected it to be.

And it's proved to be true when he loses his grip on your chin a fraction. "What?"

"You never want to touch me or kiss me. You don't like me, do you?" You fake another pout, and it seems to be working because right now there's a flash of panic behind his onyx eyes. "You hate me."

"I-I do touch you, baby. I give you kisses everyday," Jay scrambles to explain himself, not understanding fully where you're coming from. "What do you mean I don't like you? I'd take a bullet for you and you know I'm not joking."

You know he's not. But you're unfortunately a brat, so you simply ignore that sentence and say something entirely unexpected—at least to Jay. Poor, poor Jay.

"But you wouldn't fuck me," you say with a whine, "And I think you know I'm not joking."

You feel the breath leave his lungs as he stops moving for a second, staring at you with wide eyes. He's looking at you like he's seeing you for the first time; the disbelief is so palpable it almost makes you laugh.

"I-I…" Jay visibly swallows. Even in this situation, he keeps his hands to himself, not daring to hold that tempting waist of yours. "Are you drunk, Y/N?"

You almost roll your eyes. "I'm not drunk and you know that, Jay."

Jay is staring at you as though you've just informed him that the Earth has stopped spinning.

"Baby," he licks his lips, fingers flexing on his thighs as he observes your serious expression. "I think you misunderstood. It's not that I didn't want to…touch you—"

"Fuck me," you corrected him helpfully. "Don't twist my words. I explicitly said fuck me."

Jay closes his eyes briefly. Goddess, is this really happening?

"…Okay. It's not that I didn't want to fuck you, baby, it's just…" he trails off but you're no longer following him because your mind has permanently stopped and focused on the sexy way he said the word.

Jay rarely curses, so when he said fuck the way he did just now, it has embarrassingly made you…wet.

You need to see more of that. More of him struggling with his gentleman persona and cursing. More of him trying to remain composed and thinking he has everything figured out when he couldn't even guess what's been running on your mind.

These reckless, unrestrained thoughts are leading you to test him more, taunting the calm wolf residing within him.

"It's just what?" You challenge, bringing your face closer to his until he could feel your hot breath on his mouth. "It's just that you're a virgin, hm? That you never dated anyone so you don't know how to handle me?"

The alpha beneath you freezes, not expecting the words from you. A saccharine smile curls on your lips and your shift closer, taking away every inch of distance between your body and his. You drag a finger on his shoulder, feeling the texture of his Polo shirt with a deliberate touch, and let it travel down his chest. Jay is barely breathing at this moment, hands curling into fists as feels your touch like a trail of fire.

"I'm right, aren't I? You're so inexperienced, never feeling the touch of a woman," you whisper, tone dropping an octave. "That's why you hold back. That's why you only bite your tongue whenever you see me wearing nothing but your shirt in the morning."

Jay's mind is a jumble of frantic words, his breath catching in his throat. You had noticed it—of course you did. It's impossible not to, when you're just attentive towards to him the way he is towards you.

You bring your lips to his ear, playfully blowing into it and giggle when you see the hair on his nape rise. With a sigh, you start whispering again, your hands now coming up to wrap around his neck.

"It's okay, my alpha. I will guide you. I will teach you how to touch me the way I want."

Unseen to you, the alpha's eyes darken at that. The confident lilt in your voice, the sure way your lips muttered those words—it snaps something inside him. Something that he's barely managed to contain; unrestrained want and desire that he's kept at bay in the name of taking things slow with you.

But oh, was he so fucking wrong. Because here you are, in his lap, practically begging him to touch him, asking him to abandon whatever boundaries he has set in his mind and just take you right there on the couch. A request laced in temptation so strong that it's starting to make his head spin—too heady with his carnal desire to have you and sweet fucking scent.

If you think Jay would lose control, you are the one in the wrong here. Because if anything—you have just made me become more obsessed with having the upper hand.

A gasp escapes your lips when you feel his rough hands close on your waist. The alpha grounds you on his lap, locking you in place as he tilts his head sideway, this time it's his lips touching your ears.

"You think I can't handle you, doll?" He whispers, your stomach lurching at the sound of his jagged, sultry voice. "What about you? Can you handle me?"

A triumphant smile touches your lips, vixen eyes glinting in anticipation. You detach yourself from his neck, faking an innocent expression, feeling your heart stutter when you see the bottomless pit of his onyx eyes.

"I have dated people before," you decide to provoke him more, and revel in the way his grip tightens on your waist. "I know how to handle an alpha."

Jay remains quiet, but his jaw moves, ticking in a sudden flare of possessiveness.

His eyes drop to your lips, and then your chest, and he grinds his molars at the image of nameless alphas who had the privilege to be your ex-boyfriends touching your body. Why was he late to find you? The alpha's throat bobs as he swallows, falling into your trap the way you want him to.

"Y/N," he breathes out, breathless in budding annoyance and lust. "Are you sure about this?"

Your heart stutters at that, swelling with never-ending affection at the respectful he is still asking you despite you pulling at him all night. You give a sure nod, not an ounce of hesitation in your gaze to ease the doubts in his mind.

"Say it, baby, I need to hear it from you."

"Yes, Jay," you whisper, "I want you to touch me."

Jay doesn't move.Not immediately.

His fingers remain steady against your waist, but the confidence that had momentarily slipped through the cracks settles back into something quieter—something infinitely more dangerous. His forehead rests against yours as he lets out a slow, measured breath, as though he's trying to gather every frayed thread of his composure before it unravels completely.

"You really have no idea what you do to me," he murmurs, a rueful smile ghosting across his lips.

The confession catches you off guard.

For the first time since climbing into his lap, you notice it—not the teasing, not the banter, but the restraint. The way his shoulders remain tense beneath your palms. The way he keeps pausing before every decision, giving you room to pull away if you wanted to.

You realise, with a flutter in your chest, that this has never been about whether he wanted you.

It has always been about making sure you never once doubted that the choice was yours.

"I've been terrified," he admits quietly. "Not of you. But of getting this wrong."

His gaze searches yours with the same patience that had followed you through the studio, through the fashion week, through every breakdown and every victory.

"You've spent so much of your life with people taking from you," he says. "I couldn't bear the thought of becoming another person who did."

Your expression softens.

"Jay..."

He gives your waist the gentlest squeeze, his smile small and almost embarrassed.

"I know I'm probably overthinking it." A quiet chuckle escapes him. "Heeseung says I overthink everything."

"He does say that," you whisper with a laugh.

"Probably because he's right."

There's a breath of silence, and you could visibly feel the way he melts beneath you. Jay tilts his head upwards, eyes already set on your lips, and you're so impatient that you waste no time leaning in and catching him with your mouth.

The alpha freezes for half a second before he starts moving his lips, welcoming the warmth of your lips, wet and addictive. His grip on your waist tightens the way your hands around his neck do, and Jay holds back a groan at the taste of you.

You pull back for a second, caressing his shoulders with a reassuring touch. "It's okay, Jay. You can stop worrying now," you leave a kiss on his cheek and stare into his eyes. "I choose you. I want you."

Jay holds your gaze for a slow, agonising minute, before the faintest smile grazes his lips. He leans in again, this time taking the lead as he captures your lips with his.

It starts with a spark. The way he kisses you is careful at first, like he's afraid he might break you, but the moment your tongue darts out and sweeps across his bottom lip, the alpha surges deeper and presses harder, returning your gesture with similar heat. His tongue pokes and pokes, threading past the seam of your lips and invading your mouth with barely restrained hunger and you moan into the kiss.

"Ngh—" Your head jerks slightly backwards from his newfound confidence, losing your breath because Jay is kissing you like he wants to steal your oxygen and makes everything about you his. He holds the back of your head and tilts you into the angle of his desires, deepening the kiss until your head spins. His teeth bites and his tongue soothes, a repeating action that makes your panties dampen with an aching need.

The kiss breaks only when your lungs burn, but even that does not stop the alpha. Jay lets his lips wander down your chin and the column of your neck, stopping briefly to inhale lungfuls of your sweetening scent. You tilt your head up, allowing him more access as the alpha brands you with his wet kisses, marking his way down your neck with every bite into your skin.

"You have no idea how long I've been dreaming of this," Jay pants on your skin, dragging his hot lips on your sensitive skin. "I've wanted to kiss you like this for so long, baby."

"Nobody told you to hold back," you taunt, still giving him that attitude that prompts the alpha to sink his teeth into your neck, earning him a loud gasp from you.

"And you've been such a fucking brat."

Oh, fuck. He just cursed. A gush of slick drips into your panties, the smell potent in the air and Jay could feel his mouth salivate at the faintest taste of your cherry scent.

"You like that, huh?" His rough hands caress up your thighs until your skirt bunches up around your hips, and pulls you down until you can feel the hard outline of his cock on your pussy. You let out a mewl. "Like it when I'm saying bad words to you?"

You nod, a bit too eager for your pride, but you couldn't care less anymore. "Yes, please, please give me more."

Jay chuckles darkly. One big hand travels up your torse, passing the swell of your chest that has your breath hitching before it stops on your lips. The alpha brushes the bitten skin tenderly, a flicker of fondness crossing his eyes before it darkens.

He pushes two fingers into the cavern of your mouth.

"Suck."

Your tongue darts around his digits, obeying him almost instantly that you'd be embarrassed of it on any other day. You hold his wrist, capturing his half-lidded eyes as you hollow your cheeks and suck his fingers deeper. Your tongue swirls slowly, drenching his fingers with your saliva as you take him the way you would his cock.

"Fuck," Jay presses on your tongue, harder and deeper, watching with dark satisfaction as your eyes water slightly. "You look so good stuffed with my fingers like this. So quiet and obedient when you're not acting like a brat."

You moan around his fingers, rubbing yourself on his thighs when your pussy tingles with more slick. The alpha beneath you curls into a smirk, pulling his fingers out, a thin thread of salive connecting them to your lips until it snaps.

"Good fucking girl," he whispers and surges forward, kissing you again, this time with wilder hands as he squeezes and gropes your ass. "Driving me crazy with that tongue of yours. Always so demanding, always testing my patience."

Jay trails his hand upwards and grips the hem of your baby tee in his fist. He breaks the kiss and peppers a wet trail of kisses to your ear, taking the lobe into his mouth and sucking on it until you whimper.

"Let me make this clear to you, baby. I know how to handle you," Jay hotly whispers. "And I'll show you how."

In one swift movement, Jay drags your shirt up, revealing your bare torso to the warming air of the cold apartment. Your stomach flips at the motion, goosebumps erupting, while Jay almost loses his mind at the sight of your strapless bra.

They hold the weight of your breasts so snugly, creating a deep crease of cleavage that has been calling to him since the first night he first met you. His stare is blatant and obvious, tracing a finger up your skin and you immediately squirm, already wanting more.

"Jay, hurry," you demand, gripping at his wrist and directing it to your tits. "Touch me."

Jay clicks his tongue. "So bossy."

He takes both of your hands and twists them gently to your back, careful not to hurt you, and resticts your movement in one fist. You struggle, taken aback from the sudden roughness, and narrow your eyes at him.

"Jay, let me go."

"Shh, baby," he drags the clothes further upward, and a sickening smirk plays at his lips at the look of desperation in your eyes. "I want you to keep quiet. Not even a sound from you, Y/N."

You're about to protest, but the alpha is already shoving the hem of your baby tee into your mouth, forcing you to bite on it like a fake gag. Your eyes widen, heart pounding like a trapped bird at this, and fuck—it makes you so fucking wet.

Satisfied with your obedience, Jay uses his only free hand to unclasp your bra and lets the fabric fall down onto his lap. Your breasts fall free, bouncing from the escape of the confines of your bra, and Jay almost moans at the sight,

"Oh my Goddess, baby," he breathes in awe, greedy hand cupping one tit with a barely contained hunger. "Your tits are so fucking pretty."

Your whine gets muffled by the fabric of your shirt, hips bucking when Jay runs a rough finger over your nipple. The need to just pull his face into your chest and let him feast overweighs any logical thought, but is stopped by the strong grip around your wrists.

"Been dreaming of these tits since that night, baby," Jay mouths at your chest, eyes flicking upward to capture your moist gaze. He latches his mouth on your right nipple, his free hand cupping the other breast. "So full and perfect. Made to be groped like this."

The alpha starts sucking on the darkened skin of your areola, flicking his tongue over the sensitive bud like he was starved of it. The contact sends jolts up your spine and down to your core where your cunt is pulsing in an aching need to be touched, slick gushing out ftom arousal.

Jay couldn't get enough of your tits. The soft mounds are so soft and so full, overflowing in his hand and yielding to his touch. He drinks in the taste of your skin on his tongue, drool smearing on the perked up nipple like he was a lost traveller tasting water for the first time.

"Fuck, baby," he groans, switching to the other breast, the supple skin dimpling under his fingertips. His hungry gaze makes your whole body tremble, igniting sparks straight to your cunt. "Love your tits so much. Gonna knock you up until they're full of milk."

That's so dirty. You can't believe Jay is capable of such thoughts. Your body arches into his touch, could feel his tongue swirling over the stiff peak, lapping and tugging until it's sucked raw. Down there, your pussy is a wet mess, producing a disgusting amount of slick until the air is tainted heavily by your aroused scent.

Seeking friction and relief, you move your hips, trying to ease the ache in your core.

"Pf—Pfwease—" You bite onto your tee harder, drool seeping into it until it's soaked. A particular hard pinch on your nipple makes you hiss sharply, pain melting into sparks of pleasure. Nobody has ever kissed your breasts in this way, so utterly devoted with an undertone of obsession that makes you crave for more.

Jay is a relentless force on your chest. He finally lets go of your hands, and then he feels your fingers in his hair, pushing his head further down to devour your tits. It's obscene and sexy, and Jay couldn't care less if he spent a little too long on your breasts tonight. The subject of his lustful wet dreams is moaning wantonly on him, he would suck the milk out of your tits if he could.

Holding his arms for support, you start grinding harder.

"Ahh…Jay…just like that," you bite your lips until you taste copper, your shirt has completely escaped your mouth. Your whole body tingles from the his hot touch, and you don't think you could even produce coherent thoughts anymore when his hard length is poking at your clothed entrance down there, bumping into your peaked clit with every drag. "Please, baby, 'feels so fucking good."

"'M gonna make you cum like this," Jay mumbles with your nipple in his mouth. His hands raise to hold both breasts and squeeze them to the center of your chest, and then he buries his face into your cleavage, inhaling your scent like the greedy alpha that he is. "Wanna see you fall apart just from me sucking your tits."

You couldn't answer to that, not when he's back to suckling your nipples, sharp teeth grazing the sensitive skin in a pleasurable mix of pain. You let out a loud whine, hips getting more frantic and soaking his dress pants.

You feel the taut pull in your abdomen. Jay senses it too, as he could smell the delicious, sultry accent of your pheromone spiking up in arousal.

He brings down one hand and finds your clothed clit, wasting no time to rub tight circles on the bud, pushing you further to the edge. You let out short, staggering breaths, not caring if he suffocated from the the weight of your breasts as you shove his face deeper.

"'M gonna cum, baby, 'm so close—"

"Cum for me pretty girl," he rasps, biting more of your supple flesh, leaving marks of territory that deeply satisfy his alpha. "Come on, give it to me."

You reach the peak with a high-pitched moan, hips grinding down greedily to chase the sensation, slicking up his thighs and the couch with your essence. Jay welcomes it with more kisses on your chest—a bruised, utterly-claimed canvas that has been bitten into the shape of his teeth.

"So fucking good to me," Jay whispers once you come down from your high, gicing you a soft kiss that reignites the fire within you. "Never knew you were such a sensitive brat. Coming from just grinding on my thigh—are you sure you're not the virgin one here, baby?"

"Jay…" You don't know whether to pull or push him, still sensitive from your release, but he's being annoying right now. Jay only chuckles. Strong hands grip your thighs as he lifts you up, carrying you to where your shared bedroom is.

His mouth is still stubbornly devouring yours, hot breath mingling and tongue licking hungrily like he wants to claim every inch of your mouth. Your lips are shiny and swollen, bitten-raw by the alpha currently feasting on you.

Jay lies you down on the mattress gently, situating himself between your legs. His eyes are transfixed on the drenched spot of your pantries, and then his signature smirk comes to life when he catches your flushed face.

"You're soaked."

"You did this to me."

"You begged for it, baby." Jay drawls. He leans back slightly to discard his Polo shirt and your saliva is gathering again at the sight of his well-toned body. The ripple muscle of his abs flexes at the same time his biceps do when he leans over your body to do the same thing to you.

"Oh my Goddess," he whispers, taking in the sight of you all splayed on the mattress for him. Your hair spreads on the sheet like a beautiful halo, and there are littering marks decorating your previously-unblemished skin. Your face, still glowing with post-orgasm, is flushed from heat, matching the swollen lips of your abused lips.

Fuck. He did this to you. Park Jongseong, you hungry monster.

Jay leans down and starts peppering your face with soft kisses. "You're so beautiful, Y/N. I can't get enough of you."

You hold his face in your palms, a small smile grazing your lips when you see the fondness in his eyes. "Thank you, handsome," you peck his nose, "But I really want your cock right now."

There's a chuckle that escapes the alpha's lips, the familiar rich sound that never fails to make your chest flutter. "Ah, baby. You're still so demanding," Jay leans back, now raking over your body with the same dangerous glint that makes you squirm. "What should I do with a brat like you, hm?"

You roll your eyes, which prompt Jay to raise one eyebrow. "Stop talking. Just give it to me."

Jay tongues the inside of his cheek. He takes hold of your wrist and guides it to the raging boner on his pants and lets you feel a shy of a touch of his cock.

"Ask nicely then I'll consider giving it to you."

You visibly gulp. It was easy to beg when you're already so dazed with lust just now. And don't get you wrong, you're still horny—but there's more clarity in your thought process than it was when you had a hungry alpha sucking on your breasts a few minutes ago.

"Come on, baby," his voice is rough, pitched lower from lust. "Think you can handle my virgin cock?"

Jay lets you palm his clothed dick, his head tilting upward to showcase his long neck, eyes closing shut. An obscene moan comes out of his throat at the contact. The sound of him—totally undone and scratched, sends another spark straight to your soaked pussy.

When Jay opens his eyes again, it's filled with a deeper, carnal desire. It's like he's shifted his singular, predatory focus on you—on devouring you like a meal right then and there, and there's absolutely nothing that can stop him tonight.

In a swift motion, Jay detaches your hand from his crotch, and you almost whine. The alpha hovers over you, pinning both of your wrists over your head as he leans down to whisper hotly into your ears.

"Cat got your tongue, baby?" Jay licks the shell of your ear, and you mewl at the wet sensation. Another hand travels south before the rough of his palm cups your pussy. Your entire body jolts at that, the touch awakening the desire that was just about to settle.

"Jay!"

"Mhm," Jay hums. His middle finger trace the outline of tour nether lips, gathering the slick and spreading it across the sensitive skin. "Do you hear that? You're so wet for me."

His thumb, bigger and rougher, flicks over your clit, and the combination of him playing with your slicked cunt and your desperate clit is too much that you want more and him to never stop. You tug your wrists, trying to hold onto something, but the alpha only tightens his grip.

"No, baby, none of that," Jay chuckles coyly, branding the sensual expression of your face, mouth hanging open in a desperate moan when he prods one finger into your gaping hole and pulls out again. "Just use your words, hm?"

"Ahhhh—Jay—moreeee."

"Not that," he fakes a pout. He does it again, and again and again, teasing you by shoving his finger in and dragging it out the moment your walls try to suck him in. "Try again, baby."

"P-Please," you pant, hips bucking up at every brush on your clit and every brief intrusion. "Pleaseee, I want more."

But Jay only smiles. "Not that. Come on, baby, guide me," the alpha blows on your ears and watch the shiver rolls over your body. If you weren't too far gone in your lust, you would've snapped at him for throwing back your words in your face again. "I'm so inexperienced. I don't know what to do."

This time, Jay thrusts in two of his girthy fingers, and your eyes squeeze shut from the sudden burst of pleasure. "Should I do it like this?"

They curl and wiggle, dragging deliberately on your walls before he pulls back again, leaving your hole more soaked and needier.

"Or should I just leave it to dry?"

Your face flushes in frustration. "Nghhh Jay!" You whine, thrashing in his hold from the denied pleasure, tears gathering in your eyes. "Please! Just fuck me already!"

Jay heaves out a long exhale, tracing your lips with his slick-coated fingers before shoving them into your mouth again. "You sure you can take it?" You hum around his digits, eagerly sucking him in and his gaze darkens at that. "I may be a virgin, but I am still big, baby."

You nod, mouth still full of his fingers, and Jay couldn't resist the urge to thrust in a third finger. Without a second thought, you spread your legs, an open invitation for the alpha to just take you and use you as he pleases.

"Such a pretty mouth, oh my fucking Goddess," Jay pulls out and leans in to kiss you, slotting himself between your thighs. "'m gonna make you suck me off one day. Choke on my big knot like the good omega you are, hm?"

"Yes, please," you whisper wetly, lips still coated with saliva. "Please, gonna suck you off later. Just fuck me already."

The sound of a belt unbuckling echoes inside the room. You wait with ragged breaths as Jay skillfully undoes his pants, pushing it down to his mid-thigh. The sight of his protruding cock againts the thin material of his boxes has your mind spinning. Immediately, a burst scent of his pheromone—sour citrus turning sweet and saccharine, along with the hint of metals—spreads into the air.

Saliva fills your mouth at the sight of the wet patch, and when Jay fully discards his pants with a hiss, you're already drooling for his girthy cock.

Fuck. He wasn't joking when he told you that he was big.

"Mmmm," Jay moans quietly as he pumps his dick. It swells from neglection, and upon contact with his palm, bead by sticky bead of precum starts oozing out of its flushed tip.

"Y/N," his voice is firmer this time, catching your immediate attention. For a short moment, the haziness in his eyes clears up, replaced by a seriousness that makes your heart skip a beat.

"Are you sure about this?" Jay asks quietly. "We don't have to rush. I can take my time with you."

You shake your head, appreciating his concern all over again. "I know what I can handle, Jay," you murmur. "It's okay."

His jaw tightens almost imperceptibly. "No protection?"

You give him a timid nod. "Just...pull out."

Jay falls silent. His gaze lingers on you for a long moment, searching your expression one last time before he looks away, his thoughts unreadable. The sheets rustle as he goes back to hovering over you, one hand tugging at his dick while he descends to capture your lips.

"I'm gonna go slow, okay?" Jay murmurs on your lips. You give him a hum, feeling the tip of his cock lining up your cock. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him down to another kiss the moment you feel the blunt tip nudging at your entrance.

The stretch burns—you underestimated the period of time you have gone without having sex. It stings until your eyes moisten, but Jay is so gentle despite his persona just now. He's taking it slow with every inch of intrusion, bruising your lips with his kisses to distract you from the pain.

"Are you okay, baby?" Jay hums on your skin.

You take a deep, shuddering breath, letting your walls adjust to the size of his cock. When the sting eases into flutters of budding pleasure, you give him a nod, lips brushing on his ears.

"You can move now."

Jay starts slow, moving his hips with hesitation, eyes flicking to your face every two seconds. Both of his hands hold your waist down in a gentle grip, this time afraid of actually causing you pain.

But when your hitched breathing turns into quiet sighs, and then gradually grows into loud, high-pitched moans, he knows that he's breached part the line of discomfort.

"Ahhh, ahh, mmm," your hands find purchase on his back. Every drag of his cock against your walls is causing a delicious friction that your nerves tingle in pleasure. Your cunt is oozing out more slick, getting wetter and wetter with every thrust of his cock.

"Go faster, Jay."

Ah. That bratty tone is back.

"Yeah?" Instead of complying, he does the exact opposite. Jay slows down his movement, pulling back until only tip of his cock catching your hole, before lazily pushing back inside, giving you a slow torture. "That's not the way to ask your alpha, you fucking brat."'

Nails digging into his back, you bite your lips as you try to fuck yourself on his dick. But Jay is quick to stop you, his grip on your waist tightening in bruising hold that'll marks in the shape of his fingertips soon.

"Please…" you beg, pleading eyes peering up at the alpha panting on top of you. "Please, Jay. Just do it—faster, please."

Jay chances a small smile and peck your lips. "As you wish, baby."

The alpha sits on his heels and grabs your thighs, forcing open an access as he adjusts you to another angle. With one clean thrust, he shoves his length into your hole, running it across your inner walls, earning cute noises from you in return.

Jay just feels so damn big. The blunt head of his cock keeps hitting that spot, that sweet, sweet spot that has your mind blurring for a second before a surge of pleasure bursts in your system. Your hands scramble for the sheets, trying to keep yourself grounded when it feels like you're floating from ecstacy.

"Oh—oh—oh—" The familiar pressure is fast building in your tummy, and you know that you're getting close again. "Jay—ahhh, fuck, baby—'M so close!"

"Just cum," he groans, feeling your walls spasming around him as you reach another high. But the alpha refuses to slow down. He grabs the underside of your thighs and pushes them to your chest, folding you in half as his crazen eyes catch the sight of your cum frothing around his cock.

"Jay! Too sensitive!"

"More," the alpha growls, his hips pistoning relentlessly. The air heats up with the smell of sweat and sex, coated with the mix of your cherry scent and his citrusy pheromones. It's heady and potent, pulling you under into a haziness that makes your eyes water.

"Give me more, baby, I know you can."

Fwop. Fwop. Fwop.

"J-Jay—ahhhh—" you hold an arm over your mouth, trying to dampen down the noises escaping your lips. But Jay only pulls your hand away, his cock splitting you open like a spear. "Let me hear you baby. Let me hear you say my name."

"Nghh, nghh, Jay-ah—"

"Such a shame you're not in heat," the alpha grumbles as he pushes deeper, changing his rhythm into slow, hard thrusts that push you up the bed until it rattles against the wall. "I would fuck you until my seed catches. Pump you full of my pups you can't even walk."

Your body is reacting to his every thrust, shivering at his every word as you feel more slick coating his dick wet until it's the only filthy sound you could hear. An obscene moan leaves your lips every second, and that same heat is gathering inside you again.

You watch him through half-lidded eyes. Jay's has his sharp eyes narrowed like a predator, his jaw locked in a tight clench as he focuses on the way your body ripples with every sharp thrust. He bares his neck when you give his cock a deliberate squeeze, breath stuttering as pleasure consumes him.

And Jay being Jay, he could never resist the temptation to hold your tits. They keep bouncing, soft and so, so fucking yielding to every thrust, a temptation that nobody could refuse. The alpha sneaks an arm up your torso and gives your left breast one harsh, posessive squeeze.

"Ffffuck, I could come just from watching your tits bounce like that, baby." Jay whispers, one hand fondling with your breast without losing his tempo. He grinds into you, then pulls out and slams back in with a fervor of a man desperate for release. "Perfect fucking tits. Gonna fuck these tits one day."

"Jay—Jay—ah,"

"I'm close, I'm close, baby, fuck," he chants like a mantra. A lewd moan slips past his lips when your pussy grips him tighter, indicating the approaching of your third orgasm. "'M close baby, gonna cum on your tits. Shit, let me cum on your tits."

A ripping pleasure crashes into you as you squirt a violent spurt of slick into the mattress, your back arching into a bow as you cum so hard. Jay follows not long after, pulling out just in time to let out rope after rope of hot release on your chest, painting over the bruises and hickeys with white cum.

You go lax on the mattress, too spent and stretched thin to even move a muscle, as you feel his cum trickle down the side of your torse. Jay stares, too taken with the indecent look in front of him, almost wishing he had a camera in his hand.

"Holy Goddess," the alpha smiles, "You squirted on me, baby."

"Shut up," you hiss weakly with closed eyes, exhaustion already crawling up your sticky body.

You hear a rustle of movement and the clinking of his belt, before your body is suddenly scooped up into a pair of strong arms. Jay's warm lips press on your forehead as the alpha carries you to the bedroom.

"Let's clean up, baby," he whispers as he turns out the faucet of your bathtub. "I need to change the sheets before we can sleep on it."

You only hum, too tired to respond, and let him do everything for you. The alpha is so gentle with his hands, soaping your body with your favourite vanilla-scented bodywash, and scrubbing off all traces of the night down the drain. He's especially careful with the space between your legs, aware of its oversensitivity after three consecutive orgasms.

When your back hits the mattress, the sheets smells of laundry and Jay's chosen detergent. You're buried inside his oversized tee shirt—the scent of his pheromone clinging to every thread of the fabric.

It is a perfect setting to sleep.

Jay engulf you in a tight hug, pulling you closer into a cuddling position and leaves more kisses on the crown of your hair.

"Sleep tight, baby."

Long into the night, when the pale silver of the Moon is still casting the room with thin stripes of light, Jay is still awake, listening to your calm breathing. His thumb rubs an endless loop of circle on your shoulders, his pheromone wafting gently to soothe you in your sleep.

"You're so beautiful," he whispers, playing with the strands of your hair before dropping it with a smile.

Watching you sleep like this, utterly safe and secure in his arms, fills his chest with that familiar swell of dripping affection that is borderline devastating. His eyes, only ever hold love for you, gaze at you softly, the tenderness of it would make you ache had you been conscious to see it.

"I understand Sunoo now, Y/N."

I wish to always hold you like this.

Jay leans down and bumps his nose with yours, eyes closing in a resignation akin to a man surrendering to love.

'There is someone out there who needs your kindness, hyung,' Sunoo's voice echoes in his mind. Jay gives the gentlest, most devastating smile.

"I think I've found my purpose."

I wish to always love you, Y/N.

"You are my purpose."

don't play with future ceo rich millionaire park jongseong! >:(

see you again in my next work <3

divider from @/cursed-carmine

permanent taglist: @kristynaaah @seungiesdoll @in-somnias-world @rikismists @loviseamms @ikeupop @k3nza @heezeunx @ot7archives @petulapetula @sugarcwtie @whiskymiller @buttersoob @girliepop-is-in-the-house @jaeyunluvr14

The atmosphere at the dining table is the lightest it has ever been, except for the dark, ominous aura swirling around you like a bad omen.

The steak on your plate has died the twentieth time when you stab at it again, glaring at Jay who's sitting demurely right in front of you. He's the perfect picture of a gentleman, cutting the meat with unrivaled elegance, not even a scrap could be heard from his movement. When he's being addressed, he'll put the cutlery down and engage politely, that damn infuriating smile always present on his face.

Tch. So annoying.

You stab the steak harder.

You have lost your appetite ever since your discovery of Jay's identity as the alpha that your parents like so much. Your mom was confident that you'd like him, but for the first time ever, you think she's mistaken.

You don't like Jay. Hell, you even agreed to this dinner to avoid him!

And yet here you are, sitting across from the very man you'd rather kill than kiss, sulking with your poor steak. What a plot twist from the Goddess of the Moon. You're not sure if you should laugh or cry.

A hand reaches out. In a split second, your plate is suddenly being swapped with another plate filled with neatly-cut meat, still juicy and shiny. Taken aback, you lift your head, only to be met with a sheepish smile from Jay.

What the hell? Why is he suddenly being so kind?

'Eat up,' he mouths at you, then directs his focus back on your beaten steak, already mushy from your previous stabbing. He doesn't complain, doesn't even make a face and just simply cuts it carefully like it was any other perfect dish.

The grip on your knife and fork tightens. This is a scheme! He's trying to—to win your heart and it's definitely not working!

With a huff, you stab one of the cuts and shove it into your mouth. Hm. It tasted so good. Your personal chef never disappoints.

Around you, conversation carries on smoothly. Despite acting sulky and salty, you had managed to learn a thing or two about the friendship that your parents share with Jay's. Apparently, your mother and his mother used to study together in the UK before losing contact after graduation. According to your mom, they met again last year at a charity gala and that's how they rekindled their friendship and planned this grand scheme of getting their son and daughter to get to know each other.

Fuh. What a tragic story for the daughter.

You haven't uttered a single word voluntarily unless when being spoken to, putting on your best smile when the Park couple turn to look at you. They don't deserve your cold treatment. The one who's at fault for being a pervert is Jay, or Park Jongseong, as what you had found out.

"Jongseong-ah, I heard you're already in your final year. What are you gonna do?"

Ah. So he is your senior. It's the first time you're going to date someone older—wait, Y/N, are you crazy? You're already thinking of dating him?

You mentally shake your head. No!

Jay dabs his mouth with a napkin before replying. "For now I'm just helping Mom at the warehouse when I don't have classes. Sometimes I still join the basketball team. I haven't decided what I'm gonna do after graduation though, because Mom and Dad are still fighting over me."

There's a chorus of laughter across the table. Mrs. Park puts a hand on his shoulder and squeezes it affectionately.

"How could I not? My son is so reliable that everything just goes so smoothly at the warehouse."

"But it's because of that exact reason that I need him at the firm," Mr.Park interferes with a fond smile. "We shouldn't have stopped at just one child if I knew we were going to raise such a good child like him."

"Ah," your mother chuckles, "Such a capable and hardworking alpha."

You almost choke.

The memory of your last conversation with Jay flashes in your mind. A heat of embarrassment crawls up your neck, painting your skin a deep blush of pink.

'My mom said that he's very capable and hardworking. I can't wait to marry him!'

You close your eyes and fight the urge to slam your head on the table. Seriously, why'd you have to say that?!

Amidst the laughter and the teasing joke between the parents, Jay darts his gaze away to you, a knowing smile curling on his lips. Seeing that, you have the sudden urge to stab his face instead.

That dummy alpha. He's mocking you!

The rest of dinner becomes a cruel game orchestrated by fate itself. Every compliment you had thrown at that mysterious arranged alpha is now tossed back across the table—straight into your face.

'Isn't Jongseong so handsome, Y/N?'

'Jongseong is the most perfect gentleman for you, darling.'

'You need not worry about anything. We have enough wealth to last you for generations. Jongseong can provide for you more than what you might need.'

It is indeed, the most embarrassing moment of your life. It almost feels like you were eating rocks from how humiliated you are. Jay doesn't help either. No matter how hard he tries to tone down his knowing smile, it still feels mocking in your eyes.

You can't believe you had complimented him in his face. That's the lowest of the lows you have ever reached.

"Ah, I think it's better we move our discussion to the library. The couple needs private time to get to know each other, too."

Actually, you don't. But before you could even protest, your enemies (your parents and his parents) are already standing up, talking about something related to your dad's newest project and whatnot, leaving you alone with Jay at the dining table.

What a sense of humour you have, dear Goddess!

Your thoughts are interrupted when the maids come to clean up. You move aside to give them room, already itching to bolt from the place, only to hear distinct chatters between Jay and the maids. You glance at him.

The alpha has already discarded his suit. Now with rolled-up sleeves and a few undone buttons, he helps them stack the plates, the cutlery arranged nicely at the top. A big part of you wants to scoff at the performance he's putting on, but the way he moves—the sure way of him moving every leftovers to the top plate, the familiar way of him gathering the knives and forks in one place—it screams routine and instinct.

Like something he's already used to do. Something taught in his system, which is quite strange when it comes from an alpha like him.

You quietly clear your throat and start helping with the glasses, silently speeding up the cleaning up process so you can escape faster. The maids thank the both of you, with a lingering stare on Jay, before they excuse themselves to the kitchen.

The silence is too much for you to bear. Without waiting for him, you walk to the patio door and slide it open, revealing a neatly manicured garden beyond. There's a medium-sized pool glowing in light blue in your backyard, casting a cerulean shadow on your face.

You hear faint footsteps from behind, followed by the trail of the citrusy pheromone that has started branding itself as Jay in your head.

You dislike the way your body begin to get familiar with his presence.

He stands beside you, not too close that you would feel uncomfortable, yet not too far that you could still feel the heat of his body radiating from him. It reminds you so much of that night at the porch of the fraternity.

"So…" he begins, but you cut him off quickly.

"Don't start."

"I haven't said anything." You could hear the smile in his voice.

You side-eye him, hating the easy way his features settle. "I know that face."

Jay lifts one eyebrow. "What face?"

"That smug face. I know you're making fun of me!"

"I'm not!"

"You are literally smiling," you points an accusing finger. "You have been smiling!"

"How could I not? You look so beautiful tonight, Y/N."

Your heart stutters, taken aback by the sudden compliment delivered in such a delicate tone that it catches you off-guard.

But of course, Jay would say something that shatters the almost-romantic atmosphere instantly the next minute.

"And you also couldn't wait to marry me, or so I heard."

Your face flames a bright red as you hit his shoulder. "I knew it! You are enjoying this!"

Jay finally lets out a chuckle. It sounds free, like he's deeply amused by the whole situation. You pout and throw your face away, not wanting to humour him further. You're already the most embarrassed you have ever felt in your life, you're not going to add to it.

Beside you, Jay's face melts into a soft smile as he takes in your side profile.

"For what it's worth…I'm glad that I am that alpha for you."

You may be an asshole sometimes, might even be in chronic denial when it comes to the alpha standing next to you, but tonight, you can't seem to deny the fact anymore.

Every little thing your mother had praised about him turns out to be true.

Capable. Hardworking. Gentle.

You hate that she isn't wrong. You hate it even more that you're beginning to understand why.

It's obvious in the tan of his skin, so different from his parents', that you know must come from standing under the sun to manage the warehouse and the shipment. It's apparent in the way he carries himself, so sure and so accommodating, like he knows the effect he has on people but still wants to be humble about it. It's evident in the soft way he speaks to everyone around him, the jokes that know boundaries—just like how he stopped teasing you the moment he saw your pout just now.

It's annoying. It's so, so infuriating that when you've finally met someone like him, it is when you're at the most fucked-up point of your life. Still an omega with a ghost of Maki, whose words seem to cling to you like a second skin of insecurity. Still an omega barely able to stand on your own two feet without spiraling like a fucking loser. Still an omega without a nest.

"Cancel the date."

Jay freezes. "I'm sorry?"

"Cancel the date and tell your parents that you don't like me," you mutter, refusing to look at him. "It'll save you time and the trouble."

Jay doesn't say anything. His brain works hard to interpret the meaning of your sudden words, trying to find the right way to approach this.

"Is there something wrong?" He tries, fully turning his body to face you. "Did I do something wrong?"

You bite your lip. "You barely know me."

Jay nods. "I know. We can work on that."

"You think you like me because you've seen the good parts," you grit through your teeth. This time, you brave yourself to return his gaze, and the look he gives you near damn make you run.

It's so…full of understanding. It's so heavy with his feelings that you almost laugh. For such a big alpha, Jay surely wears his heart on his sleeve.

"You don't know the rest about me."

The ugly parts. The difficult-me, the rude-me, the lonely-me, the hurtful-me.

You'll get tired of me. Just like everyone did.

Gosh, you really hate how emotional you can get sometimes. You're probably blowing the only chance you'll ever get a good mate, but does it really matter when your mind is your own enemy that every kind gesture from Jay is being seen with scrutiny?

That every time he smiles and treats you kindly, you think it's just something driven with a hidden motivation?

Not wanting to let him catch you at your most vulnerable, you turn to leave. But before you go, you say something that you think he at least deserves to know.

"I can see that you're a good alpha, Jay." Gosh, look at your lowering your pride for him after just one dinner. This man is bad for you.

"But maybe not for me."

Not now. Not tomorrow.

Not ever.

Jay fights the urge to grab your wrist when you walk away, his wolf forcing him to take that damn step and chase after you, but he holds himself back. He lets himself catch the final whiff of your cherry and coffee, souring like silent doubt and regret.

He's confused. Had he acted too brashly? Had he scared you off by acting too soon? The atmosphere was light when he was teasing you just now.

But the look in your eyes…

The unspoken weighs heavy on his heart. As he watches you disappear into the house, Sunoo's voice drifts back into his mind with startling clarity.

'You are with this kindness not without a purpose, hyung. There's someone out there who needs it.'

For the first time since that night, Jay wonders if Sunoo had been talking about you all along.

Upstairs, you hide behind the curtain of your childhood bedroom as you watch the Park family take their leave. You turn the light off on purpose to give the idea that you've already gone asleep, when truly you just have fallen into another episode of self-doubt.

Your eyes are fixed on Jay. The alpha seems more tense than when he had first arrived, and you hate to know that it has everything to do with you. Before he could catch you staring, you harshly close the curtain and throw yourself on the mattress.

This is the right decision. Just like Maki had said, there's nothing unforgettable about you, so Jay will be moving on just fine and this is nothing more than a short episode of a silly rom-com. He will forget whatever infatuation he seems to have for you and find another omega.

A less difficult omega, with a perfect nest that they can invite him into. A less insecure omega who doesn't let words get to them despite acting so strong.

Before you know it, tears are already dripping down the side of your face and into the mattress. You weep quietly, drowning in self-pity as you listen to your omega cry for comfort.

Nest. Need a nest.

"We don't have that anymore…" You whisper to your wolf, voice cracking at the end.

I destroyed it.

I'm sorry.

Jay has been out of it since morning.

It doesn't take a genius to see that the alpha hasn't been acting like his usual self. His focus is frayed, concentrating on everything and nothing at all. Even during practice, he barely catches the ball passed by his teammates until the coach benches him for his poor performance.

It gets to the point where Riki and Heeseung exchange worried glances, misunderstanding the reason behind the alpha's brooding energy.

"Jay-hyung," Riki stops him from leaving once they're in the locker room. It's just the three of them at that time. The alpha seems to finally snap out of his thoughts, eyes gaining clarity when they land on the younger alpha.

"Oh, Riki-yah," he musters up a small smile. "What's the matter?"

Riki, usually a wall of solid muscle and alpha energy, is suddenly pouting with trembling lips. He doesn't hesitate to wrap his arms around Jay's neck, taking advantage of his height to nuzzle his cheek on the older alpha's head. Jay lets out a yelp, tasting Riki's floral bodywash on his tongue.

"Hyung! You're finally smiling at me. I'm so, so sorry!"

"Riki-yah, wait, I can't breathe," Jay chokes. His eyes frantically look for Heeseung, but the eldest alpha only watches with a solemn smile. "Riki—wait—why are you crying?"

"I'm sorry, Jay-hyung," Riki loosens his hold slightly when he sees the struggle Jay's facing in his crushing embrace, then quickly hides his face in his shoulder. "I've been such an asshole when all you wanted to do was help me and my omega out."

Hearing that, Jay finally melts. Ah, they must've thought that he was giving them the cold shoulders for what happened back then. Jay raises a hand to pat the taller's shoulders gently.

"I'm sorry, hyung. I am really just an insecure alpha. But it's all because I look up to you all the time—there's no ill intentions, I swear."

"I know, Riki, I know," Jay replies. "It's okay, I'm not mad anymore. But maybe please let me go first? I can't breathe."

Riki quickly scrambles off his hyung, muttering sorry's like a mantra as he helps Jay smooth down his shirt. The air is filled an awkward silence. The three best friends have never gotten into an argument serious enough to require an apology session like this one.

Heeseung shifts in his place. "So, Jay, about the other day…I almost punched you."

Jay hums. "You almost punched me."

Heeseung keeps quiet for a moment before nodding. "I'm sorry. I keep thinking about it. I know there's, like, nothing that could excuse that, but I—"

"Hee," Jay interrupts, taking pity on the way his friend stumbles with words. "It's alright. You were already in a bad place, and smelling your omega on me wasn't exactly the best state to open the door to."

Heeseung purses his lips. "But still, my wolf lost control and I ended up strangling you."

Riki lets out a soft gasp, having hearing this for the first time. "You did what?"

But Jay ignores him, waving a dismissive hand. "It's good. Thank you for the apology, though, I really appreciate it. But I also kinda overreacted back then."

"No, you didn't," Heeseung shakes his head. "You're right. Riki and I…we know your reputation among the omegas. Guess that got to our head and we saw you as a threat instead of a friend."

Jay truly understands them, despite his lashing out the other day. It's alpha instincts. He gets it now, because he hasn't had a wink of sleep since the night you walked away from him. He gets it now, when he was a nervous wreck after finding out about the alpha your family picked for you, before discovering it to be himself.

"I've long forgiven you both. Come on, don't make it more awkward than this. It's all good, I swear."

Riki hesitates. "But you were acting cold just now. Of course we have to have this conversation, no matter how awkward it is."

"It wasn't directed at you guys," Jay sighs, taking a seat on the bench when he realises he won't be leaving the locker room any sooner. "I'm just…I've been occupied with this one omega that I really like."

Sensing the change of topic, the other two alphas finally relax, the tension melting off their muscles. Riki leisurely leans on one of the lockers, while Heeseung goes to sit beside Jay.

"Is it the one who slapped you at that party?"

Jay gives them a sheepish smile. "Yeah. That one."

"Never knew you were a masochist, hyung."

"Shut up." Jay huffs, the teasing coming back now that every bad tangle has been fixed. "But yeah, she's the one I like. Turns out, our parents had been arranging for us to meet. We had dinner at her house two days ago."

Riki perks up at that, whistling a teasing tune. "Wow. That fast? Who is she, then?"

Jay nods. But when he remembers how the night unfolded, the similar solemn expression settles back in his features.

"Her name is Y/N," he whispers softly. It's crazy. Everything related to you makes him want to do things softer, more gentle. He's so gone. "I thought things went smoothly and we could get started with getting to know each other. But she suddenly asked me to tell my parents that I dislike her and cancel the date."

There's a tense silence that follows. Nobody misses the wilting tone of Jay's voice, let alone the bitter tang of his pheromone. The two alphas share a look before Heeseung, who has been a quiet listener, suddenly speaks up with a frown. "Wait, you said that her name is Y/N?"

"Yeah. A fashion major."

"Dude, that's the omega Jungwon talked about!" Heeseung claps once, realisation marring his face. "The one who got cheated on by Riki C!"

Riki looks at Heeseung cluelessly, before he too suddenly straightens up. "Hyung, that's her! Oh Goddess, Jay-hyung, you're not totally hopeless. I think I know why she turned you down."

Jay has no idea what they're talking about, but decides to just get along with it first. "Are you sure it's not because of my personality or something?"

"Ridiculous," Riki scoffs, shaking his head so fast Jay was worried his hair would fly off. "I've never met an omega who felt unsafe with you, hyung. I personally think it has everything to do with her ex-boyfriend. He cheated on her with one of her fashion rivals."

The truth almost sweeps his feet off the ground. Jay freezes, willing his ears to unhear it.

"What?"

Cheating?

If there were eight deadly sins, he's confident the eighth sin would be cheating. The ugliest form of betrayal there is, the cruelest way to kill someone's trust. The ruthless way to crush someone's self-esteem, the easiest way to drive someone to the point of doubting reality.

And you were cheated on?

"It's not just the cheating, though," Heeseung adds, his voice quieter. "Jungwon and Sunoo heard that he was so unapologetic about it, too. It's the hottest gossip in fashion school right now."

Jay hates the sound of it; a traumatic experience being reduced to gossips whispered in hallways and in between lectures. Like your pain is just entertainment to those people, something they talk about when they got nothing better to do.

His jaw ticks in annoyance.

"I heard from Jake-hyung that she called your company last-minute for fabric?" Riki asks, slowly connecting whatever dots floating in his brain. "I think that's got something to do with Maki, too. Her previous supplier was his friend's family business, and they cancelled her order last-minute to give it to his new girlfriend."

"What?" Jay can't believe his ears. "How did you know about this?"

"Sunoo-hyung, duh," Riki deadpans, like it's the most obvious thing in the world. "The cheerleaders are also talking about this. But the new girlfriend wasn't being subtle as well. Always shading Y/N on her X account for no reason," Riki shrugs. "I'm just putting two and two together."

Jay's mind is a whirlwind of disbelief and this strong sense of justice on your behalf. It keeps replaying every interaction—the distrust in your gaze, the exhaustion beneath your eyes, the tiny tremble in your fingers. He had thought that you were just difficult to read, but there were just missing pages that you hid in fear of people seeing the true you.

It's sickening. It makes his blood boil and himself nauseous all at the same time.

"Jay-ah," Heeseung puts a hand on his shoulder. "Are you okay? Your pheromone is spiraling."

Closing his eyes, Jay forces himself to take a deep breath. He needs to calm the fuck down. Yes, it is the shittiest, most diabolical action someone would do, but he also knows that a saviour complex would be the last thing you need right now.

"I'm okay," he finally replies, trying his best to regulate his pheromones. A scent of a distressed alpha is a threat to another alpha. They're not an official pack, no matter if Jay has always seen them as one. "I just…Gosh, I can't believe this. I just…"

He never noticed the wounds, nor the burden you quietly carry. He heard his mother mention about a last-minute individual customer asking for leftovers, about the sudden termination involving her ex-boyfriend, and thought nothing of it. Probably just a petty fight or a bad breakup.

But he never expected this.

Jay swallows harshly.

He doesn't know how to fix something this broken. He doesn't know how to erase the betrayal, or return the trust that someone else had stolen from you.

He just hopes he could find a way to make everyday easier for you. To make sure you never have to carry this alone anymore.

As expected, it was easy for Jay to move on from you.

You haven't heard from him. Not that you have to—his contact number that your mom shared with you in hope of seeing more of you together has been left on read for days now.

It's…good that he respects your decision. But it also stings.

Has it always been this easy to give up pursuing you?

You sigh and direct your focus back on the task at hand. Truly, humans are such a complex creature. You pushed him away because you fear the history would repeat itself, yet at the same time you want him to persist in pursuing you just to validate that wounded part of you that believed you deserve no effort.

It's confusing and tiring.

It's been a peaceful day so far. You have just received the measurement of the models for your runway, so you have been spending your time cutting the fabric to fit their sizes. There are three models in total to parade your six-piece collection, but for some reason, these models are from a different university.

When you asked your advisor about it, she only replied with: 'Oh, it's because they're the only volunteers left.'

It's whatever. When you scan their proportions, you are already satisfied with them; they're all tall and perfectly-built. They're nicknamed as Jo, K, and Nicholas—unfamiliar names, but you don't even know that many people to start with. They could've been your classmates and you would still not recognise them.

Your focus is interrupted when somebody knocks on the door. At first, you intend to let it go, already engrossed in your work-mode, but finally relent when another knock comes. With a huff, you walk to the door and swing it open without a second thought.

There, standing in a well-ironed pink button-up Polo shirt, is Jay.

"Hello, Y/N. I hope I'm not bothering you."

You almost stagger. What is he doing here? And just this morning you had thought that he had given up, that he had convinced his parents that whatever marriage vision they had of you and Jay was impossible to attain. Yet here the alpha is, wearing a colour that many alphas would avoid, with that sharp, easy smile that is always present when you're around.

"Jay?" You breathe out. "What are you doing here?"

"I cooked lunch and I thought, why not share it with the prettiest, most hardworking omega I know?" When you only blink at him unimpressedly, Jay only laughs. "I'm sorry. But I'm serious, though, I made lunch for you."

He raises up a lunchbag, shaking it in front of you.

You frown hard enough to conceal the sudden flutter in your chest. "What? Why would you do that?"

"Just making sure that you are eating well. It's past 2 p.m. and I believe you haven't eaten yet, right?"

He's…painfully right. You tend to get carried away when you're in the studio, too lost in your work to even think of getting a meal. But you hate that he's right. He's not even supposed to be here!

"Jay," you sigh. "Did I not tell you—"

"Please eat your lunch," Jay interrupts, taking your hand and forcing you to take the bag. "Don't worry, I didn't poison it. I still want to see your fashion week."

You glare at him, but it lacks any heat. "Jay—"

"No shellfish, I already asked your mom for possible allergies."

You hate him. You hate him so much.

"Park Jongseong!"

Jay only smiles. "I'll leave now."

He turns, pauses, and looks back at you. "If you don't eat this, I'll come back with dinner."

You grit your teeth. "I'll run away!"

The chuckle that leaves his lips sounds so rich. "I bet you will." Then, without another word, he excuses himself, sparing one last glance at you before disappearing behind a corner.

"What the hell is his problem?" You mutter, quickly getting inside and locking the door.

Reluctantly, you unzip the lunchbag—it's cute though, with cartoons of a black cat printed all over—and take out the lunchbox. It's still warm to your touch.

You never deal with curiousity well, never managed to suppress it. So you do what curious people would do: you open the lid to check what he allegedly cooked.

Allegedly. Because you don't believe patriarchy has ever birthed an alpha that would even step into the kitchen—let alone to cook.

Instantly, the smell of steamed chicken and garlic drifts into your senses. You stare at the the lunchbox, complete with its partitions. The rice is scooped into a perfect sphere, and the chicken breast is already cut into bite-sized. In the smaller partition, there is a red sauce, where the garlic smell comes from. There's also a medium-sized thermos with a brand that you know is not cheap, with a sticky note that catches your eyes.

'Careful. The soup is hot.'

You've never seen this dish before.

Right on time, your phone that you left on the table lights up. An unknown number has texted you, but when you read the message, you can only roll your eyes so hard you believe you almost see your brain.

+82xxxxxxx

Hi, I'm Jay

My mom gave me your number

Please save it :D or not

Oh and that dish is called Hainanese Chicken Rice

Something good I had when I visited Malaysia long time ago

I hope you like it

Enjoy your lunch!

You scoff. Why is he typing with perfect punctuations and all that? Without replying, you switch off the screen and go back to staring at the dish—or the, what, Hainanese Chicken Rice—like the chicken might come back alive and bark at you. If chickens even bark.

"Why is he doing this…" you grumble and close the lid. You're not going to eat that. Based on your experiences, when you accept a gift from an alpha, they take it as a sign that you like them back and consent to them doing whatever shit they want to do with you.

But it smells so good, and you haven't had lunch…

You shake your head. No! If Jay couldn't take a verbal no as an answer, he will take your action instead. With a newfound resolution, you march to where you left your half-finished task just now and resume your work.

It's hard to concentrate when your stomach is growling while a mouth-watering dish sits not too far from you. You munch on your protein bar to quell your hunger, already thinking of a dinner that could make up for your lost lunch.

Time passes and before you know it, it's already seven in the evening. You jolt when another knock is heard and let out the biggest sigh ever because you already know who is behind it.

"What," you flatly ask when you open the door. Jay is less neat than he was just now, with a few buttons undone and slightly ruffled hair.

"Did you eat lunch?"

You purse your lips. "No."

For a moment, Jay only looks at you. Doesn't even sigh or lecture. He simply peers inside, taking in the mess that you didn't have the time to hide, before he nods to himself.

"I see."

When he doesn't say anything more, you quirk an eyebrow. "That's it?"

Jay blinks. "What else should I say?"

"I don't know," you gesture wildly like it's the most obvious thing in the world. "Scold me? Tell me I'm impossible? Complain that I wasted your cooking?"

Jay seems to consider this seriously, before he asks softly. "Would that make you eat dinner?"

"No?"

"Then that wouldn't be very productive," he gives you a tender smile. "Plus, it's not a waste. I'm doing this willingly."

Crossing your arms, you give the alpha a slow, assessing once-over. There are many questions swirling in your mind, but one that is bugging you is simply, what does he benefit from this?

And you settle on one answer.

"You really don't know how to take rejection," you state. "I had asked you to stop, Jay. Why are you still trying?"

Am I really worth the trouble?

You push down the unsaid words.

Standing before you, Jay doesn't seem the slightest offended from your question. "I know. You rejected me and my parents, so I stopped asking you to date me. But…"

He looks over your shoulder, trying to have a look at the abandoned lunchbox. His eyes are gentle, full of something you don't dare name.

"I don't think feeding someone counts as courting."

Your mouth opens, then closes. You hate that he makes sense, but you hate yourself even more for agreeing with him. No, screw that. Everything that left his mouth has been making sense ever since you met him, and it messes with your head so much it makes you spin.

Without saying anything, you enter the studio and take the lunchbag. You shove it to his chest, not harshly, as you give him a firm stare.

"Here. Take it back. And I can take care of myself, by the way. Thanks for your concern."

Jay is taken aback. His arms hug the lunchbag instinctively, eyes staring at you widely.

"Wait—"

"Goodbye."

You close the door on him. Leaning on the door, you try to listen to his movement. It's only after a long, stretched minute that you finally hear his footsteps fading away like a song ending.

You put a hand over your chest, and almost flinch from how fast your heart is beating. Fuck. This is so bad. Park Jongseong is so bad for your heart.

You were born into a loving family, so love is not a foreign concept to you. You were taught that love is unconditional, but it only is if it comes from a familial bond. You had learned, through countless failed relationships and friendship breakups, that it doesn't apply to those who don't share a blood tie to you.

Your past boyfriends had been disappointing, never in-tune to your needs and instincts. You have never been able to keep a friendship afloat for too long; they either ended because of too much pride or jealousy and silent competition. You've never…truly been the receiving end of such tender, gentle care from a stranger.

Never. Not until…this. Whatever this is.

"Stupid alpha," you curse quietly. The image of Jay's soft smile and even softer voice plays in your mind, which for some stupid reasons, makes your heart beat even faster.

What a capable alpha, your wolf coos.

"No, he's just ridiculous. I don't like him," you deny, despite the band already playing behind your ribs.

Your wolf doesn't reply to that. Good. She better stop trying to tell you what to do.

However, Jay is as persistent as you have known him to be. He appears during lunch again the next day, and the next next day, always some time past 2 p.m., like he has cleared his schedule specifically for this.

Then, he'd come around dinner to see if you have eaten lunch, take the lunchbag home to wash it, and give you a different meal the next day, and repeat. It's annoying how consistent he is, and it's even more annoying how slowly you start to give in.

Just like today.

You open the door before he can even knock, startling the hell out of the alpha as he flinches.

"Fine!" you huff and take the lunchbag from him before he can speak. "If I eat this, will you come with dinner?"

His expression changes into one of amusement. "Depends. Do you want me to come?"

"No."

"Then I'll consider it."

"I won't lie!" You insist. Anything but him bothering himself to bring you these meals when you're the last person to deserve them. "I'll even send you pictures as proof!"

The corner of Jay's lips curves up. That dummy alpha. He's clearly enjoying this.

"Promise?"

"I promise."

"Good. I'll wait for your pictures," he pauses. A cheeky grin itches to spread, you can tell, before he quickly hides it. "But I'll still come for dinner, though. To pick up the lunchbox."

Your eye twitches. "You tricked me."

A genuine laugh bubbles out of his chest, the sound so gentle to your ears. His pheromones, thinly veiled by his scent patch, sweetens with the timbre of his voice.

"I didn't trick you," he says after the chuckle fades. "I just want to see you."

The words land like feathers, tickling your heart with sparks of something you aren't ready to face yet. His eyes soften when they're fixed on you, like the mere sight of you is enough to blunt every sharp edges of his world. Your breath hitches.

Park Jongseong…you're not good for my heart.

"Whatever," you grumble, and you don't let him reply as you shut the door in his face. You stomp to your desk and quickly take the lunchbox out to see the menu of the day.

It's beef soft-tofu stew, steaming hot in the thermos, served with Korean black rice. It's a hearty dish, one that's enough to fill your tummy and heart.

That day, you finally learn that Jay is a good cook.

You

[photo]

done

+82xxxxxxx

That's good :D

I'll bring more tomorrow :D

You stare at the screen, contemplating something. Should you say it? Chewing your bottom lip, you let your fingers type and hit the send button.

You

thank you

The text bubble dances on the screen.

+82xxxxxxx

You're most welcome, Y/N

And that day, you finally save his number.

Jay/Jongseong

Three days later, your first fitting finally arrives.

Despite everything that has happened over the past week, your collection is slowly beginning to resemble the sketches that had once lived only inside your notebook. One by one, the garments take shape beneath your hands—the pleats finally behaving, the hems falling exactly where you envisioned, every stitch bringing you closer to Fashion Week.

Given the short time, you have only managed to finish the first three pieces of your collection. It is not an easy task—you have been powering through on caffeine and three hours of sleep. Skipping meals would be an easy way if not for a certain alpha that has been relentlessly knocking on your door to feed you.

The small part of your heart is grateful for Jay, even though you still act quite annoyed by his presence. It's not actual hostility; it's just that same voice that keeps reminding you how undeserving you are of his kindness—Maki's words have carved way too deep into your brain, no matter how hard you had tried not to let it get past your walls.

The morning begins like any normal mornings would. Across the horizon, the sun has been gentle with its shine, not too glaring nor too burning. It allows cool breeze to kiss your skin still when you open the window of your studio. You've been tidying up the studio, turning it into a space that's ready to accept guests.

The models later arrice thirty minutes late than what was promised, but since you're in a good mood, you let it slide easily. The three alphas walk into your studio with imposing shoulders, bodies built like an athlete. Are they really athletes, though? With that height, they could easily pass as a player in a basketball team.

"Hello. Thank you for making your time for the fitting today. I am Y/N. You may introduce yourself so it's easier for us to communicate."

You don't miss the way the alphas' stare linger on you, though something is…different with it today. Usually, when being the receiving end of alpha's blatant stare, you could sense the interest and awe in their eyes. But with these three…it feels as though they are picking at every layers, like they already had an idea of how you were supposed to be and they were seeing if you fit the narrative.

Your mouth flattens to a straight line, not expecting the stretched silence. "Hi?"

One of the alphas with an insanely small face finally snaps out of it. He returns a coy smile, eyes glinting with something that makes your hair rise in anxiety. "Hi. I am Jo. Nice to meet you."

"I'm K. Call me K," the tallest guy says.

"I'm Nicholas but I go by Nicho," the alpha with a pair of sharp eyes speak last, his stare remaining blank and quite unfriendly. You try to ignore how strange it leaves you feel.

"Okay!" You clap once, forcing back every positive feeling into your system as you force a bright smile. "It's nice getting to know you guys. Now, I have prepared three pieces of my collection for you to try on. You may look at them while I explain about the concept we are going for."

You lead the alphas further inside, glancing at the door that you have purposely left slightly ajar. It seems to ebb at your nerves; being with alphas in an enclosed space like this, so you didn't close the door fully after they entered.

"Is it only you here?" Jo asks, breaking the silence as curiousity gets the best of him. You nod.

"Yes. I rent this studio alone. Why?"

"Oh," the alpha hums as he sniffs the air, "I could've sworn I smelled another alpha here. Smells like citrus."

Your entire body locks up in shock. The face of a certain alpha flashes in your mind and you almost lets out a loud scoff.

"Maybe you're mistaken. I use air freshener sometimes and I like the lemon-scented ones the most," you half-lie your way out. It's true you prefer lemon-scented things, but you don't use air freshener because it smells so artificial it makes your head spin.

The topic drops there. Jo only nods his head, not saying anything more. You stop in front of a row of mannequins.

"This semester's theme is men's loungewear," you begin as you bring out three mannequins, all perfectly clad in your carefully-sewn garments. "Since the scale is quite limited, I tried to be more creative and played with the zip positioning to make it more interesting and different."

You unzip one of the jackets, revealing an additional panel hidden beneath.

"The main feature is the zipper placement. Instead of treating the zippers as purely functional, I used them to change the silhouette. Depending on how they're styled, the same piece can look relaxed, structured, or oversized. I used exposed industrial zippers on the denim design and hidden zippers on the linen one."

You zip the panel back into place.

"The idea is that one garment shouldn't only have one identity. People's routines change throughout the day, so I wanted the clothes to adapt with them."

You move toward the second mannequin.

"The fabric choices were equally important. I mixed Japanese denim with linen and silk blends because they all age differently. Denim softens, linen develops natural creases, and silk catches light depending on movement."

A small smile appears on your lips.

"Rather than fighting those characteristics, I decided to work with them."

You brush your fingers across the linen sleeve, feeling the friction under your fingertips.

"For example, I purposely didn't design the linen to look overly crisp. Linen is supposed to crease—that's part of its texture. Trying to eliminate every wrinkle would almost defeat the point of choosing the fabric in the first place."

You drift to the third mannequin, where the blended silk is catching the light in a fine shimmer. "For the satin look, I replaced the zipper with concealed ties. Satin naturally drapes, so forcing a zipper onto it would interrupt the fabric's movement. I wanted the transformation to feel softer and more organic."

You step back to admire the three works together. Satisfaction blooms in your chest upon gazing at the result of your sleepless nights, ready to be worn by your models soon.

"That's my whole idea on it," you glimpse at the three quiet alphas with a smile. "You may try them on. I didn't design it strictly to your measurements, so you can free to choose to wear whichever you think would suit you the best."

The trio wordlessly obey, chattering among themselves as they decide on the mannequins and go into the only fitting room one by one. You busy yourself in front of the mirror, adjusting the blouse you're wearing to make it loose around your chest.

Being big-chested isn't as glorious as people make it out to be. Often times, you were often lusted over than loved, being the one bearing the blame each time an alpha so much as gazes at you for a second too long. Being in your studio with three alphas, mixed with the anticipation of what's about to emerge from the fitting room—it frays your nerves at the edges. If you didn't wear three-layered of scent patches today, you're sure your pheromone would flood the whole space with the scent of souring cherries and coffee.

K is the first one to enter and come out. Your eyes immediately go to the garment instead of the alpha wearing it.

Good.

The Japanese denim sits exactly where you intended—structured through the shoulders before relaxing into a softer silhouette down the body. The concealed side zipper doesn't interrupt the clean lines, disappearing neatly into the seam while still allowing enough movement for the oversized fit. When K takes a few steps forward, the fabric drapes without pulling at the hips.

Relief loosens the knot between your shoulders.

"Can you walk for me?" you ask, already reaching for your notebook.

K does a slow lap around the studio before stopping in front of you.

"Raise your arms."

He obeys.

"Turn around once."

He gives another obedient turn.

You crouch slightly to inspect the hem before scribbling down a few notes.

Shorten the back hem by one centimetre. Slightly reinforce the left shoulder seam.

Nothing major. Thank Goddess.

"Perfect. You can take it off." You absentmindedly say as you jot down more on your notebook.

But K is unmoving. He stares at the mirror and clicks his tongue, making you pause. The crease between his eyebrows folds deeper as he moves his arms and rolls his shoulders tentatively, running his palm over the denim.

"Is it supposed to look this plain and boxy?"

Your smile falters a fraction. "What do you mean?"

"I don't know," he tilts his head, searching for the words. "The construction is clean but.." he gestures vaguely at his torso. "It makes my body look bulky."

Does it?

You step closer and inspect the area around his waist, then travel up to his chest. It doesn't look bulky—at least to your naked eye—or are you being defensive?

"And I don't think denim exactly fits the idea of loungewear," K adds with an easy shrug. "It feels more...smart casual than something I'd actually relax in."

You chew on your bottom lip.

"The denim is a Japanese cotton blend," you explain, fingers absentmindedly smoothing the fabric over his sleeve. "It's lighter than regular denim and woven to be more breathable. I chose it because I wanted the collection to blur the line between indoor comfort and outdoor wear."

You unzip the concealed zipper running along the side seam.

The silhouette loosens almost instantly.

"It's meant to adapt," you continue. "Closed, it gives more structure. Open, it creates more ease around the body. I wanted something people could lounge in at home, then zip back together before stepping outside."

K studies himself in the mirror again.

"I get the idea."

Relief flickers through your chest.

"I just don't think people will."

You purse your lips together. You start to weigh his words over in your head, staring intensely at the way the denim falls on his silhouette before the alpha speaks again, this time with an easy smile on his face.

"But then, I'm just a model. You know better about this stuff. Don't take me seriously!"

You already did.

Jo comes out next, donning your silk garment with ease. It drapes on his body like a wave, rippling across his torso with every movement. This time, it looks better than the denim—at least that's what you had thought until the alpha opens his mouth.

"The hidden ties is a hassle to work with."

Your hope wilts quickly.

"I don't think it's practical. Most alphas wouldn't want to deal with it."

The second crack of your confidence appears on the surface. You study his figure for the longest minute ever, contemplating whether to argue or to agree, then let out a sigh.

"The ties are hidden so the silhouette stays uninterrupted," you explain, stepping forward to retie them with practiced fingers. "I wanted the fastening to disappear into the garment instead of becoming another decorative element."

With a gentle tug, the satin cinches neatly around his waist.

"The fabric is already the statement. Adding visible hardware would've competed with the sheen."

Jo gives an inch of a nod, like he had expected that. "I get it. I just think it's not convenient."

Since when is fashion all about convenience?

Is what you wish to say, but you bite your tongue instead.

The last person to emerge is Nicholas, wearing the linen piece that took up the biggest portion of your time. This time, the criticism comes without a comma, uttered in a single, sharp breath that it takes the smile completely off your face.

"To be honest, if I had seen this in a showroom, I don't think I'd remember it."

Something ugly churns in your stomach, your brain racing with a painful memory that you had tried so hard to move on from. The word 'forgettable' keeps repeating like a broken record, haunting you like an old ghost seeking vengeance.

"What do you mean?"

"Linen is too simple and the wrinkles are not worth it," Nicholas glances at you through the mirror. He's been the coldest guy since arriving, and even merciless when he delivers a piece of his mind. "It's hard to maintain. Nobody wants to iron a loungewear. The wrinkles would look messy."

Your jaw ticks in annoyance. "Linen is breathable. It's perfect for lazying around at home, especially in a hot and humid weather."

"During summer—sure, but South Korea isn't humid all year," Nicholas counters back easily. "Wouldn't cotton have been the safer choice?"

You instinctively defend yourself. "Cotton doesn't give me the same structure."

"Maybe." He pauses, making sure your eyes meet his when he finishes his sentence. "Or pure cotton was simply out of budget.

The jab lands exactly where he wants it to be. "I can afford it."

Seeing you getting worked up, K interferes, but not with the intention to back you up. "Pure cotton is hard to source unless you buy from Yuma," he snickers, "and as far as I know, Yuma doesn't take on just anybody."

Hearing the name of the person who had put you through a bad crisis of your life finally makes you snap. Yuma Nakakita, that fucker, how did these students know about him?

"I didn't ask you to redesign my collection," you mutter through gritted teeth. "I asked you whether the garments fit."

There is a tensed silence in the air, like coiled wires waiting to snap. You defiantly lift your chin to appear taller, trying to regulate your breathing as you return their rude stares.

Jo once again breaks the silence. But unlike the curious lilt in his voice before, this time his tone is mocking.

"Geez, relax, omega," he spits, expression taunting you to react. "No need to get so emotional."

That's it. You have had fucking enough.

Still containing whatever professionalism you could show, you direct a firm hand towards the fitting room. "Please change back into your clothes and kindly leave. Our fitting is done."

The three alphas share a knowing look before they do as you say. It doesn't take long before they are already gathering outside, throwing you a side eye as they leave through the front door. There are no other pleasantries exchanged—not that there is a need for that, anyway.

You march into the fitting room and feels your eyes twitch when you see the garments that you worked so hard for were tossed around in a messy heap. Squatting down, you gather them in your arms and walk back to where the nude mannequins are, putting them back on for display.

Your eyes land on the linen shirt that you had sewn until your fingers bled. The one that had received the most criticism from the alphas.

Unsolicited or not, it still fucks with your mind the same way Maki cheating ever did.

You whip your head around, dragging the mannequin with you to the ironing section. You plug in the steam iron and waste no time to start ironing the linen again.

'Linen wrinkles easily.'

'The wrinkles would look messy.'

The iron glides back and forth across the linen, its weight pressing down harshly as steam curls from the metal plate. Your hand moves in frantic sweeps—forward, backward, then along the edges—flattening every stubborn crease as Nicholas' voice loops in your head.

You move with the fervour of a man possessed, going over the same edge over and over again until it shines under too-much heat. Your wolf whines restlessly, sharing the same vessel of emotions as you as you almost go berserk.

You don't know how long you've been doing it, you don't even care when the steam hisses from the increasing heat that you're setting—you just want to smooth out the wrinkles of doubt creasing in your mind, seeping into your system.

Suddenly, a hand comes out and snatches the iron from you, followed by a loud thud of the power adapter unplugging from the switch. Your breath hitches and you whip your head, and are met with Jay whose brows furrowed in worry.

"What did you just do?! Why did you stop me?!"

Jay tosses the iron gently on the furthest spot on the desk before he focuses back on you.

"Y/N," his voice remains the calm in the storm and you hate it. "What have you been doing?"

"Linen wrinkles easily. I need to smoothen it out," you move to reach for the steam iron, mind frantic and frayed, but Jay's hands come up to gently pull you back to him.

"Let me go!" You push at his chest. "I need to iron the linen!"

"Y/N."

"It'll look messy if I—if I didn't—"

"Y/N," Jay says again, this time firmer. He pumps out his pheromones the best he can as he grabs your arms and forces you to stay in place. "Don't panic, Y/N. The linen is fine. You are fine."

The moment you catch a whiff of that lemon tang of his pheromone, your body instantly relaxes. You go almost lax in his arms, glassy eyes looking up at him through the haze.

Jay stares at you back, the space between his eyebrows creasing into a worried frown. It's the first time he ever looks at you with such a frown, but deep inside, you knew it wasn't meant to be unkind.

Jay lets another second of silence pass by before he slides down his hands down your arms and holds your delicate hands in his.

"You hurt yourself," he murmurs. Without thinking, he brings your hand closer to his face, blowing gently over the reddened knuckles before his thumb strokes across the irritated skin. You wince from the sting and almost pull away, but his grip remains firm.

"That hurts…"

"Let's treat this and then we eat, okay?" Jay softly consoles you, hands never letting go of yours. "It's already lunchtime."

Your eyes drift to the clock hanging on the wall. It's already thirty minutes past twelve—how long have you been trying to burn the linen to ashes?

Wordlessly, you nod, still coccooned by the citrusy scent hanging heavy in the air.

Jay leads you to your desk—the main desk that he always sees you sit at where you mainly operate and do your work. He looks around the space, where it looks tidier than usual, and his nose twitches when he senses three different pheromones lingering faintly.

You had company before he arrived, and they did something that made you almost scorch the fabric.

Jay stores that information away in his head. That'll be another topic for another time. He has a more pressing priority to attend to at the moment.

"Where do you keep the first aid kit?"

"Inside the drawer."

Less than a minute later, the alpha is seated beside you, meticulously handling the almost-empty first aid kit with a questioning look.

"Did you injure yourself a lot? You are running out of almost everything." Jay asks with a tone that hints at scolding but not really scolding.

You glance at the tiny box. "Occupational hazard."

Jay doesn't look convinced. He takes out a burn gel and inspects it with the intensity of a specialist. Then he nods, satisfied with what, you're not really sure.

"Let's go to the bathroom."

"What?" You almost yell. "Why?"

"You burned your hand," Jay explains, still patient and soft. You shake your head.

"It's not that serious."

"Y/N."

The quiet firmness in his voice leaves little room for argument. With a grumble, you lead him to the small sink tucked beside your studio pantry. The alpha turns the tap on and holds your hand under the running water, quiet and observant as he twists and turns your hands gently.

The silence allows you to properly observe him. When he's concentrated, Jay's brows will furrow and his lips will jut out in a small pout. It reminds you of the day he came with the fabric—the same pout appeared when he was double-checking your invoice.

It's a cute habit that you unintentionally noticed—not that you'd ever admit out loud anyway.

The alpha, satisfied with the red that has dulled after a few minutes, leads you back to your desk.

"Hands."

You obediently hold them out.He pats your skin dry with a clean towel that you always keep around before turning to the burn gel that he has prepared. You hold back a hiss when the cool texture of the gel hits your skin, neutralising the slight burn you've been feeling.

His fingers are surprisingly gentle despite how large they are. Every touch is careful, almost hesitant, as though he fears causing you even the slightest bit more pain.

"Does it sting?"

"A little."

Jay blows softly across your knuckles. He dabs on more gel. You can almost sense the impending question that'd come from him eventually, so you're not at all surprised when he finally says it.

"Do you need help with the wrinkles?"

You just never expected this question.

Jay glances at you when you remain quiet. His finger is not even dabbing on your knuckles anymore—it's been rubbing the same spot gently as if he was forcing the healing to speed up.

"Linen is meant to have subtle wrinkles, so you don't need to worry much about it because it'll always be there," he continues, tone light and soothing. "I can help you with the ironing so at least it'll look tamed. I'm quite the expert, you see."

You stare blankly at the side of his face. At the face of the alpha who, despite being pushed away by your stubbornness and pride, is still sitting here with you, fussing over a wound that hasn't fully formed yet.

You're used to people scolding you and calling you emotional. You act brashly sometimes, and ever since losing your nest, your episodes of breakdowns have been even harder to tame. You're used to people leaving once your baggage gets heavy. You're used to people walking away at the first sign of vulnerability.

So why hasn't Jay left yet?

Why is he offering to help you instead of running for the door? Nobody wants to deal with a miserable omega. Nobody wants to be with someone who only hides behind a hard shell but a mind so fragile it shatters at every sign of contempt.

It's too…sweet. It's too gentle for a heart that's met so many knives it has turned into a scars hall of fame. Alphas never regarded you this highly. They never worried about you, or made a fuss over the inconvenience that you had to face. They never cooked for you or made sure you had been eating well.

You had always been the prize. A doll to parade, a body to touch and satisfy. They adored your face, but they adored your chest more. Even better when they found out that you had money, too. They never truly saw you as someone equal, let alone someone to cherish and care for this way.

"Y/N?"

And Jay notices your silence too. Of course he does. He's oh so observant, ever so tuned in with your wolf despite bearing no bond that ties the two of you together. It's almost irritating, but you no longer have the heart to lie to yourself. You no longer have the strength to lie to your heart and deny that this is what you've been needing; that this is what your wolf has been craving for.

"Why are you crying, hm?"

A pair of hands, warm to the touch, cups your face gently. The pad of his thumb brushes away a stray of tears, its calloused surface a stark contrast on your soft skin. His deep, black eyes stares into your glassy ones, delicate and tender.

When he senses your hesitation, he gives you a reassuring smile. "You can tell me. Or not. It just weighs heavy in my heart to see you cry like this and not knowing why."

You chew on your bottom lip. The trail of lemon and bergamot drifts into your senses, and you find your crying subsiding a fraction. His pheromone has always been calming to you—it's almost baffling.

"I just…have a lot on my mind," you begin, your fingers fiddling together. "We just had a fitting just now and the models made some commentary on the pieces."

Jay only hums. His hands are still snug around your cheeks, his thumb busy brushing off the remaining wetness on your skin.

"The denim was too boxy and the linen was too messy, they said," you let out a wet, humourless laugh. "They don't suit loungewear. And I—I guess I just let it get to my head."

His eyes soften. "You're the designer. Nobody knows these pieces better than you do," Jay finally says. "Of course their words would get to you."

The timbre of his voice carries the words gently.

"I know, but I'm not usually like this. I can handle criticism," you try to protect your dignity, even when you know you don't have to. At least not with Jay. "But there's just…something about the way they said it? I don't know," you shake your head, "it's ridiculous."

"Your feelings are not ridiculous."

Jay drops his hand from your face and you hate the sudden loss of warmth. Sighing, you look down to your lap, where your hands are still fidgeting nervously.

"Do you think I should change the fabric?"

The alpha's gaze softens. "I think you should listen to what your heart wants."

"But what I decide on is not always right," you protest. "And lately, it's always wrong."

Before you, Jay's heart gives an unpleasant squeeze. It isn't the tears that hurts him the most. It's the hidden apology between your words.

I'm not usually like this.

I can handle criticism.

Even now, while crying, you're still trying to convince him that you're normally easier to love.

It's ironic, because to Jay, you have always been easy to love.

It doesn't fit the fierce omega who dared to slap him that night, or the angry omega who had hit him when he was acting reckless. It doesn't fit the firm frown you always give him when he keeps showing up with your lunch. The strong traits that keep him on his toes and awake at night.

But this side of you…Gosh, Jay wishes you wouldn't have to face these doubts and uncertainties about yourself. But perhaps, this wasn't another version of you. Perhaps this had always been you.

The sharp tongue, the stubborn pride. The walls and the tears. None of them contradicted the other.

They simply belonged to the same woman.

"Can I ask you something?"

You nod, still refusing to look at the alpha.

"When you chose denim, what problem were you trying to solve?"

A crease forms between your brows at that question. You lift your chin and see the seriousness in his eyes.

"…Structure."

"And did it solve the problem?"

"Yes."

"What problem were you trying to solve with linen?" Jay continues, still patient as ever. You blink at him once, still not knowing where this goes, but answer regardless.

"Breathability," you breathe out. "Linen is lightweight, and the ones you're selling is the best quality I've ever seen yet."

"So it solved you problem."

"Yes."

His face melts into a small smile. "Then maybe, the question isn't whether your ideas were wrong," the alpha gently says. "Maybe it's whether there was a better fabric to communicate them."

A better fabric? You ponder on his words, toying with the inner of your cheeks as your mind races.

"Then maybe I should change denim to something else."

"I think that's a good idea," Jay encourages. "What do you have in mind?"

You hesitate for a moment. "Knitwear? I'm thinking of fine-gauge knit. Lightweight cardigan or something."

Jay breaks into a grin. "There you go. Knitwear is perfect for loungewear, isn't it?"

Your eyes brighten at that, a hint of a smile curving on your lips. "It is," you agree, then sigh.

"But I only have a month left."

"We'll make it."

"Where do I even find knitwear on such a short notice?"

Jay chuckles. It's a deep and rich sound, one that rumbles from the depth of his chest. "That's why I'm here, aren't I? Did you forget that my family sells fabrics for a living?"

Ah. He's wrong. Of course you wouldn't forget that. "I know. But I really don't want to…" your voice trails off to a barely audible whisper.

"…burden you."

The alpha lets out a disbelieving sigh. "You? Burdening me?" He shakes his head, his tone playful and teasing. "Right. And I'm Spider-Man."

"I'm serious, Jay."

"I'm serious, too," he hums. "I want you to stop thinking that every help is a burden. Especially when it comes from me."

You chew on your bottom lip. "Then…what would you like in return?"

Jay is at a loss for words.He stares at you for a whole minute, unblinking, and when your expression remains serious, he knows that you are not joking.

"Nothing," his voice is quieter. "I don't want anything from you."

You frown. "You can't do that! There must be something…" you negotiate, half-confused with his refusal.

It's strange. Isn't kindness transactional?

"You'd better start getting used to me," Jay deadpans, not taking a 'no' as an answer. "Because I'm not stopping anytime soon. And it starts now."

The alpha pushes the lunchbag in your direction. Seeing your hesitance, he unzips the bag and takes out the familiar container and thermos himself. "I made the same Hainanese Chicken Rice, since you didn't get to eat it last time."

The aroma is so tempting. The familiar scent of garlic and honey steamed chicken tickles your senses, and your body decides to respond with a low rumble in your stomach. Your neck flushes crimson at the sound, but Jay only forms a small smile.

"Eat up," his voice is softer now, losing its firmness. "I will send you home after this. Perhaps resting in your nest would make you feel a whole lot better."

The temperature in the room suddenly drops as you go quiet. Jay notices almost immediately—the shift in energy as soon as he mentioned your nest. There's a faraway look in your eyes, obscured thinly by the steam curling from the rice.

With a hint of dejection, you reveal. "I don't have a nest."

His hand stills.

The smile on his face falls almost imperceptibly. For the first time that afternoon, Jay has no immediate answer.

You don't have a nest.

His heart squeezes painfully.

Is there really nothing that feels safe enough for you to hide in?

"That's okay," his jaw tightens. "We'll figure that out too."

The rest of the afternoon is spent with you devouring the lunch he made while quietly watching him ironing the linen. Jay moves like the steam iron was an extension of him, smooth and with the right pressure and heat. He handles the fabric like he would someone's heart, cautious in every fold and crease.

By the time you reach home, you have been feeling slightly better. But your omega is still restless, still too disturbed by the verbal stabbing by the three alphas that she wouldn't sit still until she gets comforted.

You open your wardrobe gingerly, having no idea how to appease your wolf. You move the hanging clothes to the side, searching for something familiar, when your eyes land on a neatly folded trench coat that you believe doesn't belong to you.

The trench coat that you snatched from Jay.

It's still in your possession. You forgot about it.

You hesitate for a second before reaching out for the garment. Almost instantly, Jay's familiar scent—lemon, bergamot, and a hint of metal—greets your senses. It carries gently through the air, enveloping your being until your wolf calms down.

That night, you sleep while having the coat lying near your pillow and for the first time since the night you destroyed your nest—you finally get a deep-rested sleep.

The atmosphere in the basketball court is gloomy when Jungwon enters its perimeter. He's still in his taekwondo uniform, a black belt snugly wrapped around his thin waist like a badge of honour. He scans the place and finds the whereabouts of his friends, wasting no time to approach them.

He comes with a mission. And he knows only Riki would be willing to do it for him.

But as he gets closer, Jungwon realises that the negative energy is radiating from none other than his Jay-hyung. The older alpha is lying down on a bench, his duffel bag being his makeshift pillow as he stares at the ceiling with a downturned smile.

Around him, Riki and Heeseung are exchanging worried glances. When they spot Jungwon, they urge him to come faster while holding a finger on their lips, asking him to be as quiet as possible.

Jungwon obliges. As soon as he takes a seat beside Riki, Jay finally speaks, as if he had been waiting for Jungwon's arrival all this time.

"Do you know what a nest means to an omega?"

It's the last thing Jungwon expects would come out of his mouth. The question strikes him odd, but he realises that it's something that he never really asks himself. In his head, nest is an always-been-there, something that always comes with an omega. His sister and mother—the both of them have had a nest for as long as he could remember.

Riki scratches his head. "…Where they sleep in?"

Heeseung pinches his arm.

"It's like an alpha with instincts," Jay mutters like he didn't hear them, "It's as natural as that."

There's a momentary pause as Jay considers his next words. Jungwon waits patiently. He doesn't know what makes Jay behave this way, but his money is on the omega that he's been actively pursue.

"And what's an omega without a nest?"

Jungwon tries to picture it: an image of her sister without her beloved teddy bear that has seen more days than he has. It doesn't sit well with him. It's like seeing a chair without its legs. Jungwon doesn't realise how much distress his alpha would be if that were to happen; his protective instincts for his family flaring up just by mere imagination.

"It's like telling us to live without our wolf," Jay continues. He looks dazed, as if he doesn't even realise that he's been speaking to his friends rather than to himself. "It's like a slow death. A quiet torture."

The alpha then heaves out a long sigh. There's a distant look in his eyes when he sits up, his hair sticking out in different directions. When he speaks again, his voice is much quieter, like a secret not meant to share but too heavy to carry alone.

"My omega…she doesn't have a nest," he whispers, almost inaudible. "I…I don't know what to do."

Shock ripples through the trio upon hearing that. Riki, Heeseung, and Jungwon shares a look. With an instinct of an old and eldest friend, Heeseung immediately jumps and sits beside a distressed-looking Jay.

"Jay-ah, listen to me. If she told you that herself, that means she trusts you," Heeseung assures. "You just need to get her familiarised with a safe and comforting scent, and then we can work from there. My omega starts with my hoodie."

While the two older alphas discuss about this problem Jay's having, Riki nudges Jungwon's side, one eyebrow quirking up.

"What are you doing here, Jungwon-hyung? You're still sweating, ew."

Jungwon shakes his mind off the topic that Jay has suddenly brought up. He has a mission, remember? With a mischievous smirk, he turns to Riki.

"Riki-yah, I need you to punch me."

Riki's eyes widen the size of a saucer. "Are you crazy?! Why would I punch you?"

Jungwon rolls his eyes. "I need an excuse to meet Noona…you know…that omega that I like…"

"And? I can't see the correlation."

"She's a nursing student. I want her to treat my wounds. But I'm too good at taekwondo that I ended up beating other people up instead of the opposite."

"You're actually psychotic, do you know that?"

Jungwon purses his lips. He knows that, but Riki doesn't need to rub it in his face.

"You know I don't like anyone other than her. But she only sees me like a little brother."

"And you whining to her about your injury makes you sound like a big, old alpha???"

"Yah, stop judging me!" Jungwon smacks the back of Riki's head. "Just do as I say. Imagine my face as a punching bag."

"Your face is punchable even without my imagination."

"Nishimura Riki."

"Okay, okay. Can I use my right hand?"

Jungwon squints his eyes suspiciously. "Is that your dominant hand?"

"Yes."

"Then use your left—"

Buk!

That bastard actually punched him with his right hand. What the fuck?!

Half an hour later, Jungwon is hissing as he drags himself to the nursing building. His lips is split and his cheek stings in pulsing pain. Riki is asking for an early death, seriously. He's lucky that he's cute and Jungwon has a big ass soft spot for that younger alpha.

"Jungwon-ah!"

When he enters the room he's been instructed to go to, which he belatedly recognises as the infirmary, a gasp is heard before a blur of movement jogs towards him. As soon as he senses the scent of strawberry milk that belongs to the one and only omega he has ever pined for, a small smile forms on life, and it hurts as fuck.

"Ouch," he hisses.

"Oh no, what happened to you?" She cups his face gently, and Jungwon feels bad when he sees the genuine worry in her eyes. "How did you get hurt again?"

Yeap, this is not Jungwon's first fake injury. Let's talk about that some other time.

"Some kid gave me a back kick," he says as the close proximity between their faces renders him breathless. The omega leads him to a single bed and sits him there as she finds an emergency kit.

"You should be more careful," she fusses as she readies a bottle of antiseptic and a cotton bud. "What do we do if your cute face gets damaged?"

Jungwon wants to laugh at that, but she's suddenly bending slightly to treat his wounds, diminishing the distance between them and out of nowhere all coherent words and thoughts desert his mind.

Jungwon stares at her face, at the soft crease in her frown as she carefully dabs on his wound. She's still mumbling angrily—or worriedly, he decides—but her touch is tender and soft. It stings, but Jungwon doesn't have it in him to complain or whine when they're so close like this.

"Noona," he whispers, a tiny sound that echoes in the silence. The omega hums.

Jungwon doesn't know how to fill the gap between the fast pounding of his heart, so he settles for what Jay had talked about previously.

"Do you have a nest?"

The omega looks at him questioningly. She finishes the last dab on his wound and then straightens up.

"Of course I do. Why, Jungwonie?"

Jungwon is quiet for a moment. "Will you ever invite me into your nest?"

She freezes. The bandage dressing in her hand almost drops from the sudden, intrusive question.

"Jungwon-ah, that's only for my alpha."

"Can't I be your alpha?"

She blinks at him, taken aback. But Jungwon accepts her gaze head-on, a seriousness she rarely sees glinting in his round, catlike eyes.

Then, like always, a grin splits her face as she ruffles his hair. The tension melts like chocolate in the sun, leaving him sticky with the residue of her sweetness.

"Aigo, you're so silly, Jungwonie. I might invite you just because you're cute."

That little-brotherzone, again. Jungwon lets out a long sigh. He drops on the mattress and stares at the ceiling, mimicking Jay's position previously. A defeated feeling spreads across his body as he closes his eyes.

Will you ever see me as more than a little brother, noona?

True to his promise, Jay has been a great help to you.

He arrives with two bolts of fine-gauge knit the next day, which is more than enough for your collection. The fabric runs smooth under your fingertips, soft and yielding to the shapes you have architected in your mind.

You begin working in no time, already behind your schedule when you have to redo one garment, with three more yet to be completed. But the heaviness in your shoulders feels lighter when Jay becomes a constant presence in your studio.

He comes during the gaps between his classes, spending every free time helping you build your collection. And he's surprisingly good at this stuff.

Jay knows his way around a sewing machine.

Apparently, growing up in a family that dealt with textiles meant learning far more than just the names of fabrics. He could thread a bobbin without squinting at the manual, change sewing machine needles in under a minute, and somehow knew exactly how to ease stubborn fabric beneath the presser foot without stretching it out of shape.

He wasn't as fast as you—not even close—but he was steady.

If you were the mind behind every garment, then Jay became the extra pair of hands that kept those ideas moving.

"Can you overlock these seams for me?"

"Already done."

"Jay, where are my fabric shears?"

"Left side of your cutting table."

"Can you press this after I'm finished?"

"It's already pressed."

You slowly realise that the alpha has been silently solving problems before you even notice them.

Sometimes he would arrive carrying lunch in one hand and a roll of interfacing in the other. Sometimes he'd disappear for twenty minutes only to return with matching thread because he'd noticed you were running low.

Once, without asking, he reorganised your notions drawer.

You spent fifteen whole minutes complaining that you couldn't find your seam ripper.

"Third compartment."

You opened it.

It was there.

Over the past few weeks, you've learned that he's like…a walking encyclopedia. He seems to know the most random things imaginable ('Did you know that octopuses have three hearts? I guess that's why they have so many tentacles too; they want to hug three lovers at the same time'), and he has many hobbies occupying his schedule, like golfing, Spanish classes, cycling, and even knitting.

It's refreshing to finally know an alpha whose time doesn't consist of just lectures and then a hangout at the frat house. An alpha who arranges his routine meticulously, making sure he makes good use of the time he has, and never forgets to include you in that schedule.

It warms your heart to know that.

Jay is also an active yapper. When the studio isn't vibrating with the sound of the sewing machine or the hissing of the steam iron, it's filled with his honeyed voice instead. He talks about everything and nothing, from the most trivial things to the most insane lore drops.

"My grandfather gifted me a beautiful brown cashmere cardigan before he passed away," he once revealed, a nostalgic smile curling on his lips. Your busy hands slowed at that, giving him your fullest attention when you noticed the sudden dip in his voice. "I lost it when I moved here from Seattle, and I think that was my first ever heartbreak."

When he can't show up due to other arrangements, he makes up for it by sending 'his men' in his place—his words, not yours. He definitely acts like a mob boss sometimes but you secretly find it funny and endearing.

One morning, you open the door to two unfamiliar alphas. They are tall, reaching the doorframe with ease, but their nervous looks betray the air of alpha dominance around them.

"Hello, I'm Riki and this is Heeseung-hyung," the blonde says, deep timbre rivaling a puma's purring. You only stare at them blankly, not sure how to respond, not even realising the dip in your eyebrows as you accidentally glare at them. The tall alpha then continues in a whisper, "Wow, you are as scary as what Jay-hyung said."

The burgundy alpha—Heeseung—smacks the back of Riki's head with a forced smile. "Please ignore him. He doesn't have a filter between his brain and his mouth. I'm Heeseung, and we're sent by Jay to help you."

You perk up, interested yet doubtful. "Er, the two of you?" You ask, hundred-percent skeptical.

The two alphas—like a pair of twins—shake their heads simultaneously. "Nope! Actually, yeah, it was supposed to be us—but we don't know anything about fashion designing."

"That's why," Riki continues, "we came with our omegas!"

Only then do you realise the two figures hiding behind them. Two omegas peer over the side of their arms, waving shyly at you when your eyes land on them.

Oh my. Such cute omegas they have. Your gaze softens at that.

You don't have many friends; they either didn't last long because of personality clashes, or they just befriended you to steal your sketchbook and copy your design. So the two new presences in your studio make you feel equal parts nervous and excited. Having gone so long without omega companionship, you end up acting like a teenage alpha—awkward and quiet

But the two omegas, despite their shy nature, warm up to you pretty quickly. They take one look at your station and it's enough to make them act like two excited high school girls discovering their dream jobs.

"You made this yourself?"

"Oh my, your designs are so beautiful."

"Will you be my personal designer for my wedding dress?"

The two omegas are as helpful as Jay could be, but two times faster with an extra pair of hands. The cheerleader—Heeseung's omega—is surprisingly good with needles, while Riki's omega is an expert when it comes to ironing clothes.

That night, you leave the studio with a full heart and two new numbers in your contact list.

And Jay, despite his busy schedule, will always be waiting for you in his sedan, ready to take you home. It doesn't matter whether he visits your studio or not.

Jay always makes sure that he's the one who sees you off safely.

"How was today?" The alpha asks as he calmly maneuvers the car out of the parking space. "Were Riki and Heeseung a good help for you?"

You fiddle with the lunchbox absentmindedly as your mind drifts off to the two omegas you had just spent the day with. A gentle smile touches your lips.

"Mhmm, they brought their omegas with them," you supply, voice pitched soft. Then, almost sheepishly, you add, "I made new friends."

In the reflection of the rearview mirror, the grin on Jay's lips is unmistakable. The alpha hums, too cheerful for that simple fact, as his strong arms control the steering wheel with practiced ease. He revels in the soft burst of cherry in the air, a telltale sign of your happy mood.

"They did? Did you have a good time?"

"Yes. They helped me a lot. We managed to complete another set today, which means I am ahead of my schedule."

"That's good. You can sleep in tomorrow. Or just take the day off," he glances at you before diverting his gaze back on the road. "The studio can live without you for a day."

You contemplate for a second. Jay is right. You've been locked inside the studio for far too long that it has become your second home, only coming out for classes and when it's time to go home.

Shrugging, you nod in agreement. "That sounds fun. I can finally watch Spider-Man."

"Brand New Day?"

"Mhm. That one."

"I haven't watched it yet. Do you wanna go to the cinema with me?"

"I…" How does Jay do this? He's always inserting you into his schedule and him into yours so easily that you have been so accustomed to it the way one gets accustomed to having a new pet, and you don't realise it until you find your heart agreeing to him before your mouth could. Except Jay is not a pet. He is an alpha with a black cat energy.

"Hm? Or, if you want to watch it alone, that's totally fine. Just let me pay for the ticket and the popcorn."

You narrow your eyes. "What, you think I can't afford it?"

"Never said that, Y/N, I know you can," he gently replies, "I just want to spend my money on you. Is that not allowed?"

You purse your lips. This is another side of Jay that you are trying so hard to get used to.

He loves to splurge on you.

Ever since gaining the access into your studio (and, in a way, into your life), the alpha has taken it upon him to spoil you with his riches. A new sewing machine, a new tumbler because yours didn't hold the ice longer anymore, occasional meals at his favourite five-star Michelin restaurant, new pairs of shoes, of scarves that feel soft enough for your neck, of clothes that you can afford but he wants to give it to you anyway.

It's only been a couple of weeks, but your childhood bedroom is already collecting Jay's gifts the way some people collect Pokémon cards or K-pop photocards. You have tried to refuse—because what if he kept track of it and demanded you repay him back once he lost interest in you?—but the alpha insisted. And if his way didn't work, he'd use the sneakiest way to win: by sending it to your family home and addressing it to you and your mom too.

And it works. Every. Single. Damn. Time.

This is his courting gift, your mom explained. This is him being a provider, your mom supplied. This is him wanting to be chosen as your alpha, she squealed. It was as if she was twenty-two again and it was your father that had been sending those gifts.

So, yes. Despite your initial resistance, you can't lie that Jay has been consistently and slowly winning your mom's heart. Not yours. Definitely not yours.

"Y/N? What say you?"

"Fine," you huff, "You can come, I guess."

Jay beams, the kind that rivals the streetlight lining up the streets, like the thought of spending the day with you does really warrant that much happiness for him. And you hate that you're the cause of it and the receiving end of it, because he radiates warmth, and somehow his warmth reaches the bone-deep coldness within you that not even Maki could thaw.

And you're scared of what that might mean.

"That's great. I'll pick you up at two. We'll have dinner after the movie. You can pick anywhere you'd like."

"Jay, you know I hate deciding what to eat…"

"What about malatang? Do you like malatang?"

"I do. Actually, yes, malatang sounds good."

His grin widens. "Then it's decided."

Fuck. And he knows how to get you to decide what to eat effortlessly without making you feel pressured to pick. This…this dummy…

Park Jongseong, you're really, really dangerous for my heart…

When the car pulls up in the familiar driveway of your home, you prepare to unbuckle your seat and thank the alpha beside you when a sudden thought crosses your mind.

"Ah. I almost forgot," you fish into your tote bag and bring out a piece of handkerchief. "You left this at my studio."

Jay spares it only a second of glance before he dismisses it. "Keep it."

"But it's yours."

"I know. And I told you to keep it."

A resigned sigh leaves your mouth as you keep it back inside your bag. "You seriously need to fix this habit. It's annoying, you know? One time it was your sweater, then it was your jacket," you nag, a habit that Jay has gotten used to. "By the end of this month, your entire wardrobe will be living in my room."

"Then it will be my turn living in your room, right?"

Unexpectedly, a pink flush threatens to surface on your cheeks. You glare at him, praying that it could at least mask the racing blood in your pulse.

"In your dreams!"

A chuckle leaves his cherry lips. "I'll dream of it tonight," his voice softens the way his gaze does, and you find yourself unable to breathe. "Goodnight, Y/N. I'll see you tomorrow."

With a feign annoyance, you grumble back. "Goodnight, Jay. I guess I'll see you soon."

When you reach your bedroom, you open the door of your wardrobe and look for that one corner where you keep Jay's trench coat, sweater, and jacket—stuff that are undeniably his due to how heavily scented they are by his pheromone.

"It's a growing pile," you whisper to yourself and gather all of the garments into your hand. Immediately, a citrusy scent—refreshing yet grounding and calming—bursts in your senses and you feel your body relax.

You need to keep these somewhere else, or it would get in the way of your own clothes inside the closet. Your eyes roam around your spacious room, looking for a suitable spot, before settling on your couch. Your feet bring you there without a second thought.

You arrange and rearrange, instinctively following your wolf's demand on where to put which. You don't even think about what you're doing. It's like a deeply graved habit in your system, the way you handle it, like it's something you used to do but have forgotten to.

The sweater goes at the bottom, the trench coat stays within reach. The scarf is folded over the armrest.

When you're done, you sit back on the mattress and observe the pile, a hum of satisfaction resounding within your chest.

A strange sense of peace settles over you. You hadn't realised how restless you'd been until now.

"Happy now?" you mutter to your wolf, who's been the most fussy the whole time. With a yawn, you get up to start your night routine, completely unaware of the sign the heap of garments represents.

"I'll return them to him soon."

Your wolf whines loudly. The sound brings so much heartbreak that you blink in confusion.

"What? They're his clothes," you mutter.

Another whine resounds from your chest, and this time you roll your eyes.

"You're unbelievable."

And you are stupid!

Your omega has gone insane.

The long-awaited fashion week has finally arrived.

You have been waiting with a bated breath, constipating your lungs with so much anxiety that you don't even realise how uptight you've been leading up to this day.

Every thread is oversewn. Every swipe of heat feels wrong. Every stitch is overthought. It feels like a lone battle all over again, or so you thought.

Because amidst your quiet spiraling, in between every restless night and almost-skipped meals, there's Jay—a constant, grounding presence that has attached himself into your routine whether you realise it or not.

He's there to wipe your tears, whispering 'It's okay, I got you,' when doubt eats you alive. He takes the steam iron away from your hands and offers to do all the heavy-lifting on his own. He knocks on your door with warm, homecooked meals when you forget to eat, reminding yourself to take a break once in awhile and makes sure you're never hungry.

He's everything you've prayed for. He's everything in an alpha that you've ever needed.

Even now, he's holding you gently as tears prickle in your eyes because those three models that are supposed to be here two hours ago haven't showed up or picked up any of your calls yet.

The backstage is bustling with rustles of fabrics and quiet chatters among hairdressers and the models, trying to find the most suitable strand placement for their looks. Tall alphas and betas are already cladded in hand-sewn garments that your fellow coursemates have done—yet your collection is still hanging pitifully on the hangers with no body to hug.

The number you have dialed is not in service, please—

"Fuck," the curse feels familiar on your tongue by this point, as your screen dies on you again before you tap it back to life. "T-They're not picking up—Jay—I barely have two hours left and I—"

You stutter, then the tears you've been holding at bay finally trickle down your powder-blushed cheeks. Jay tightens his hold, pumping out his calming pheromones to calm the omega within you as he rubs the space between your shoulder blades tenderly, bathing you in his citrusy scent.

But there's nothing tender about his eyes.

The alpha's onyx gaze is narrow, a deep frown marring his handsome face. The gears of his mind work two times faster as he tries to think of a way out of this. It's slightly helping that you were given a private green room like the rest of your coursemates do, so at least he can focus on you without prying eyes.

You sniff and detach yourself from the crook of his neck, and Jay feels his heart crack at the sight of your tears.

"I have a cousin," you start, fiddling with your phone with trembling fingers. "He lives forty minutes away, but we can make it on time if we call him now."

You can save the weeping for later, you think as you get forced into your problem-solver mode. As you scroll your contact list, your mind desperately thinks of two other male figures in your life that could help with your situation, just anyone—even your middle-aged uncle is being considered at this point.

You think back to the three alphas and feel a tight squeeze in your chest.

"They never intended to come," you whisper, almost inaudible. "Those three. I should've known. Nothing good comes from Maki's social circle."

And then the silent 'This is all my fault' echoes in your eyes as your gaze meets Jay's. His body goes rigid as he hears this, understanding dawns on his features.

'It's not your fault,' he tries to tell you.

"I had a hunch that they're connected," Jay supplies instead. It's evident when he secretly read their profile one day, left inside the drawer of your main desk. If Jay did a background check on Maki and his whole line of friends after that with the help of Jungwon, nobody needs to know. Not even you.

"You did?" Your eyes widen a fraction. Then slowly, you mumble. "I should've known. That fucker is still bitter that I never corrected the cheating allegation and interfering with his reputation."

You focus back to your phone, your thumb hovering over your cousin's contact. However, a gentle touch holds your wrist as Jay pulls your hand down. There's an unmistakable tension in his jaw, like a brewing storm building in his nerves, but it's not directed at you. Never at you.

"Y/N," he inhales deeply, a new resolution burning in his eyes. "Your collection is walking that runway today. I promise you."

You sniffle. "Jay…"

"I don't care if I have to drag every alpha in the university here," he slowly mutters, "because I will see to it that you get that fifty-percent today."

He fishes out his phone instead, thumbs expertly swiping the screen. "Your collection."

He taps on the groupchat he shares with his friends. "Will."

'Come to the green room now. @Riki @Hee/Evan @Sunghoon Law', he types. "Walk."

He hits send. Then he looks at you, eyes softening when they land on your wet face.

"Do you trust me?"

You blink at him with a wet gaze, realising that your heart has answered that question when the words are still warm from his breath. The alpha that has been your anchor, the one that has been eroding every sharp, painful words into blunt shapes that barely hurt now. The alpha that rewrites every negative thought in your mind, soothing every doubt you never managed to escape.

Yes.

You trust Jay.

You give him a slow nod, and Jay smiles at that.

A few minutes later, the door swings open with a gush of wind. Walks in Riki with his casual nonchalance, then enters Sunghoon with his quiet grace. Heeseung follows next, his features as calm as water, as usual. Then, three shorter boys squeeze through the door, more pocket-sized than the first three, whining about getting inside first. You recognise Jake almost instantly.

"This is great. I feel like a celebrity!" Jake exclaims once he manages to enter first, eyes roaming around the green room with puppylike excitement. Meanwhile, two pairs of curious eyes watch you silently, one looks like a cat and another like a fox.

"I only requested the tall ones to come," Jay mutters when he sees all of his friends invading the green room. Jake, Jungwon, and Sunoo take offence greatly.

"Hey! That's rude!"

"As if you are any taller!"

"We are moral support!"

Jay waves a dismissive hand. "Anyway, I think you haven't met the two. The brown-haired is Sunoo and the other one is Jungwon," he briefly introduces, allowing a tiny wave from both alphas before redirecting his hand to the other three alphas. You manage to mutter a small 'Hi', still red in the face but you couldn't care less anymore.

"And you have met those three," Jay continues. "I asked them if they could be your models and they said yes."

The room falls silent. You blink between the three alphas and the garments hanging behind them, your brain struggling to catch up with what Jay has just said.

"...What?"

Riki is the first to grin.

"I've always wanted to walk a runway," he says, already strolling toward the clothing rack without an ounce of hesitation. "This is way cooler than basketball."

"You've literally never said that before," Heeseung deadpans.

"I just discovered my passion," he takes the linen set and puts it over his body, admiring himself in the mirror. "I'll make a pretty decent model, don't you think so?"

Jake scoffs. "As if."

You disagree. "Actually, you will."

Without a second thought, you approach the alpha and holds the garment over him the way he does. Riki blinks in surprise but refrains from saying anything when he sees the serious expression you wear.

"You're very tall. That's good."

Riki snickers, half-flattered and half-mischievous. "Thank you. Not many can relate to that."

Sunoo, Jungwon, and Jake shoot him a death glare.

"And your face," you examine his features closer, watching the way they catch the overhead lights like a sculpture meant to be displayed. "You have very defined and model-like features. I think you will suit this linen perfectly."

Behind you, Jay has a proud smile playing on his lips. He watches as you naturally show your expertise this way; something that he never grows tired of listening to. Often, when you're like this, he prefers stepping back and becoming a spectator instead, letting you take the reign like the passionate, diligent student that you are.

Then, as if you have just clicked into your designer mode in a snap of a finger, you walk to Sunghoon next. The alpha flinches when you suddenly leans into him with the intensity of a doctor assessing her patient.

"You are gracefully beautiful. I think you will fit the silk pieces," you comment. Sunghoon's fluffy ears flick at that, drawing your attention to the furry, soft-looking pair with a newfound interest. You hum. "Those are not a problem to me, if you're wondering. I can cut a hole for your tail."

Flushed pink on the apple of his cheeks and the tip of his ears, Sunghoon mumbles, "Thank you."

You then tap on his shoulders for good measure. "Broad shoulders too. The silk will enhance these better."

Jungwon nods along. "I was about to say the same thing."

"No, you did not."

"Okay Dr. Strange-wannabe."

"Dr. Strange is a wizard, not a mind-reader. That would be Jean Grey, you larper."

"Jean Grey is not a mind-reader either—she has telepathic power."

"Excuse me—"

The chaotic bickering between the three shorter companions becomes a background noise as you approach Heeseung last. Giving him a once-over, you take note of his medium-sized proportions, quite smaller compared to Riki and Sunghoon but still tall regardless.

He actually fits the knitwear you have prepared. The calmness he always radiates, the soft way you always notice he speaks to his omega—Heeseung is the third perfect model for you.

You feel yourself grin before you realise it.

"You're…very calm," you explains simply for the lack of a better word, "I think your facial features help with that. You will wear the knitted ones."

You clap your hands once, satisfied. "Perfect."

The seven alphas instinctively straighten their backs.

"We're running out of time, so let's begin the fitting immediately." You glance toward the rack where the accessories are lined up neatly. "After that, we'll steam the garments one last time, style the hair, and do the makeup..."

Your voice trails off. The smile slips from your face.

You're severely understaffed.

Jay notices it immediately.

"What is it?"

You jolt and immediately shake your head, forcing a smile on your face. You don't want to worry the alpha further. "Nothing. We just—we have to start now. I have three faces to do makeup on and," you glance at your wristwatch then curse quietly, "We only have one hour and fifty minutes left."

You can do this, you think. Jay is not supposed to solve all your problems. You can do the makeup on three alphas just fine—that is, if they're okay with wearing contact lenses, if their skin is not sensitive to chemical products, if their hair can give cooperation—

Without realising, your scent gives away your distress, the cherries and coffee souring in that sad tone that's undeniable to anyone, and Jay is quick to catch it. The alpha exhales softly, letting Sunoo, Jungwon, and Jake be as the three of them drag the newly-hired models to the vanity while he stand there watching you.

Why do you always worry yourself when he's right there? Do you even know that he's at your beck and call? That he'll do anything you ask him to?

A knock resounds from the door, and you snap out of your thought. You frown, thinking it was the three traitors, ready to give them the beating of their lives, but pause when you're met with two omegas instead.

"I hope we're not late," Heeseung's omega smiles—tries to, as she holds up a makeup bag, still catching her breath. "Had to rush to get this at the dorm."

"And this!" Riki's omega jumps excitedly beside her, holding a straightener and a hairdryer. You blink at them, dumbfounded, questioning what on Earth had you done in your past life to get betrayed and immediately soothed like this.

"Y-You're not late," you stutter for the first time in your life, a gratitiude so profound spreading across your chest it messes with your coherent thoughts. A stinging pain begins to form behind your eyes—hot and warm and will flow if you didn't stop yourself now.

"I…thank you…"

"No worries! Hurry!" Riki's mate holds you by your wrist and drags you inside. "You can do Sunghoon's makeup! I'll do my baby ducky's."

"I am a puma!" Riki argues.

"And I'll do my baby bambi's!" Heeseung's omega squeals.

"I'm a…yes, actually, I'm a bambi." Heeseung calmly agrees when his eyes catch his omega's in the mirror. They share a small, almost-shy smile and you roll your eyes playfully at that.

The green room is a blur of movement—of two omegas fussing over makeup on their mates, of three boys bickering over how to iron every garment correctly—but your center of gravity, the subject of your clarity stands in the middle of it.

The only steady thing you can reach for whenever the world tips beneath your feet, the strength you need when you're weak in the knees, the calm in every storm you face. The voice of reason to your spiraling—never belittling you for crying over the smallest thing. The one who offers solutions instead of sighs, who reaches out instead of walking away.

Park Jongseong.

The alpha's eyes are already on you—have always been, whether you're looking or not—and you're suddenly filled with this feeling of undeservingness, because truly, what did you do to deserve this? To be grazed upon a touch so gentle you would break from how tender it is, to be engulfed in his warm embrace every time you feel like the whole world is against you?

The tears are no longer from panic.

They come from the overwhelming gratitude swelling inside your chest, and from finally putting a name to the feeling you've been trying so hard to outrun.

Love.

It's ironic, that it's amidst the chaos that you find clarity.

You love Park Jongseong, and for the first time ever in your life, you want to give your heart over to an alpha.

Your lips curl into a teary smile, watching his face morph into worry when he notices the shine in your eyes.

"Thank you…"

For everything.

For accepting you, jagged and imperfect that you are.

For always being patient in learning you.

And for a reckless, utterly embarrassing moment, you think you could kiss him right then and there.

As though sensing the thought before you could bury it, Jay's lips curve into the smallest smile.

He doesn't say anything. He simply mouths, 'Go.'

'They're waiting for you.'

Without missing a beat, your wolf and heart whisper:

I love you, Park Jongseong.

The semester has ended, and peace finally settles over your studio.

Everything is tidied up and rearranged back into its original place, waiting to collect dust for the weeks to come before a new semester begins again. The fashion week has wrapped up in a better way you could have imagined—Riki, Heeseung, and Sunghoon were fitted for your collection more than anyone ever could.

You just come back from your lecturer's office, wearing a frown that does not fit with the lighthearted mood inside the studio, and it doesn't go unnoticed by Jay.

"She's a fucking witch, Jay!" You start as soon as you enter. "She takes back one percent of my marks because I hired a hybrid model on stage? That's inhumane! Does Sunghoon face this discrimination on a daily?"

Jay perks up at that. The alpha has been diligently cleaning your studio despite your refusal, insisting to do it because he wants to. You had let him, because you know no words could convince him otherwise.

"She did? That's a serious offence," Jay grumbles. "And to answer your question—yeah, unfortunately. He's known as the big bad wolf in law school."

The gasp you let out is audible. Jay watches as various expressions cross your face, all five stages of grief seems to be whirling around in your mind before you decide on anger. It's cute how easy for him to read you now, compared to the grumpy persona you gave him in the earlier days.

"This can't do. We have to help Sunghoon."

Jay chuckles at that. He reaches an arm over the top shelf, placing a box of your unused fabric on top of it. "Don't worry. He is under the protection of the omega rights activist club. Ironically."

"Why is that so?" You inquire curiously.

"Not sure why," Jay shrugs. "The president seems fond of him. She has been taking care of Sunghoon quite well, despite the backlash. And she's also just a student like us, mind you."

A beat of silence passes and Jay knows that you're already deep in thought. Whether you're thinking of ways to reprimand the lecturer, or to contact the president of the club's president to share custody of Sunghoon together—he's not sure.

A finger pokes the space between your brows.

"Stop frowning. You'll wrinkle faster."

"My anti-aging booster serum begs to differ."

Jay smiles softly. "Are you ready to go home now?"

At the mention of that, you're suddenly avoiding his gaze, suddenly sheepish. Jay thinks his vision is tricking him when he sees the faintest hue of red dusting your cheeks. He's still not used to seeing the shy version of you but he knows he can never get enough of it.

"Yes. Please drop me at my apartment."

"Your—apartment?" Jay blinks confusedly. That's your private unit where you used to live in before moving. "Not your family home?"

You shake your head. "No. I…have something to show you."

If a physical question mark existed, it'd be hanging over his head by now. Jay hums, quieting down his curiosity as he follows you out of the studio.

If there's one thing Jay dislikes the most, it's not knowing something about you.

He takes it upon himself to study everything about you. The micro-expressions that give your feelings away despite you masking up your scent. He knows your routine like he memorises the beat to his favourite song. He has lists upon lists of your do's and don'ts, your likes and hates, of menus he have tried cooking and have not. The movies you like to rewatch and the particular way you like to do your hair. Even the name of your neighbour's cat that you love to secretly give food to.

So you being this secretive is fraying at his nerves. Jay wants to know. He's nosy like that about everything-you, and he has terrible FOMO when it comes to you.

But he tones it down for the sake of not ruining your mood, because among the things that he's learned about you, one of it is that you lose your temper quite fast. And he does not want that when you're humming a happy tune, an indication that you're in a great mood despite what had gone down with your lecturer just now.

When the two of you finally arrive at your godforsaken apartment, Jay feels like the elevator isn't fast enough to bring him to your unit. He's tapping his shoes, then stopping, then resuming again in slight annoyance when it seems to take forever to reach the top floor.

"The code's 458732," you casually tell him as you punch in the code. "In case of emergency."

Jay files away that information in the compartment of his brain that is named 'Y/N'.

The interior is a harmony of brown and beige, a combination that screams cozy and warmth. As expected, every furniture is placed to make the space looks spacious and lived-in, something that he expects you'd do. It's a unit of three bedrooms, but Jay can't help noticing the vacancy of two other rooms when he walks through the hallway.

We can turn one into a storeroom, he thinks subsconciously. And another, well, when I marry her, that could be where the crib is.

Jay doesn't realise the direction his mind is taking until it's too late. He shakes his head aggressively, willing the thoughts away, and he doesn't know why his gaze drifts to your lips and then…down to your chest.

No. Stop that. He is not a pervert!

Meanwhile, you're a nervous wreck as you hold the knob of your bedroom. What you're about to do is something that feels bigger than the sky; something that you could only watch on screen before; something to daydream when all felt too hopeless. You're not sure how Jay would react to it, but you know he would never, ever hurt you intentionally.

And that thought alone pushes you to finally open the door.

As soon as you step in, the scent of cherries and lemon, a perfect harmony of your scent and his, swirls into your nose. It hangs in the air like beautiful trinkets of wind chimes, engulfing your senses like a warm blanket. Beside you, Jay pauses, his breath hitching once he registers what he's seeing.

There, where your mattress is, is a heap of garments that he knows too well. Jay takes a closer look, stepping forward while you close the door, and feels the exact moment coherent words desert his being.

His sweater, jacket, trench coat, handkerchief—alongside additional items like his forgotten scarf, his tie that he let loose once and then forgot to take back, the black cat plushie he once won for you at the arcade—are neatly arranged into a circle, a wall of defense that he recognises too well.

A nest. You built a nest. And you did not just build a nest—you built a nest with pieces of him that he left both on purpose and accidentally; with his pheromone that he once thought wasn't fitting for an alpha like him.

He knows the first four pieces of fabric by heart—three of them he left for this sole purpose, and the trench coat was the one you had snatched for him that fated night—a memory that he looks back on fondly whenever he remembers it. But the others—the scarf, the tie, the plushie—he never knew you'd use them too.

"Y/N…" Jay trails off, utterly lost for words.

You shuffle shyly beside him, avoiding his gaze when he turns to look at you.

"I built a nest," you helplessly supply, stating out the obvious. Jay does not say anything. He only stares at the side of your face like he just found a new altar to worship.

You step to your mattress and carefully sit in the middle of it, mindful of where your bare feet lie. The natural distribution of your weight tilts the nest a fraction, and only then did Jay notice two small plushies of a bunny and a white cat—no doubt gifted by his two friends' mates, your new omega companions that has been painting new colours into your life. His heart swells at that.

"Jay-ah…" you slowly mutter, fingers fiddling with each other.

Jay feels his throat close up. He knows what's about to come, but knowing doesn't ease the sting of oncoming tears behind his eyes; does nothing to stop his heart from growing and growing because that's what his love does for you everyday—it just keeps expanding and claiming its territory over every inch of his body that he's afraid his chest might explode, that he knows that if there were ink, every corner within him would be branded with your name because he is utterly, wholly yours.

"Do you…do you want to come into my nest?"

Jay thinks he really might explode. No, he's actually exploding, because how can one describe the river of tears now flooding his cheeks?

With a teary smile, the alpha asks, "A-Are you sure?"

You purse your lips, feeling the wetness forming in your eyes as well as you open your arms for him.

"Mhmm. Please come to me."

Jay couldn't waste any second longer. He takes a slow, steady step and the next moment he's already inside the nest with you. Like the north to the south of a magnetic field, his hands are drawn to your waist and he pulls you into a tight embrace.

He buries his nose in the crook of your neck, and feels your body tense for one second before melting into the hug. Your hands, more dainty than his, come to wrap around his torso as you accept the warm embrace.

It's the first hug the two of you share, and Jay is already wanting more of it.

"Thank you," Jay whispers, voice muffled on your skin. He tightens his hold. "Thank you, Y/N, this is—oh Goddess—this is so beautiful."

You let his shirt absorbs your tears as you fake a calm, steady answer. "Yeah? Do you like my nest?"

"I love it," Jay lets go reluctantly, because as much as he craves this, craves being in your arms, he craves to watch the sparkles in your eyes more than anything. He cups your face gently. "I love it so much. It's such a beautiful nest. So cozy and warm."

A beam stretches across your cherry lips, and Jay feels the strongest urge to kiss them.

"Really? I'm glad to hear that…"

You're thrumming with a strong sense of pride, feeling more than satisfied that he likes your nest. It has taken lots of overthinking and effort, and a hell amount of anxiety to build it, because is a nest is never just a nest; both to the omega and the alpha. You hug him again, hiding your face in his chest as Jay returns the gesture.

For a moment, there's a comfortable silence as the two of you share your body warmth. Jay traces a shapeless distraction on your back, still a bit too overwhelmed with this revelation. You press an ear on his chest where his heart resides in and listen to the fast pounding of his heart.

Your wolf hums, deeply sated with this win.

"What does this mean for us?" Jay whispers, finally asking the inevitable. He looks down to cradle your face again, tracking the dried tears with the rough of his thumb.

"Can I…Can I really be your alpha now?"

Your face morphs into a frown playfully. "What? Do you think I just invite anyone into my nest?" Then, softly, you close your fingers around the wrist that is holding your face.

"Of course you can, Jay. I want you to be my alpha, as long as you want me to be your omega."

"I want it," he says within a beat, breathless from eagerness. "I want you. Goddess, I want you so much, Y/N, you have no idea."

A giggle escapes your lips. You then bring down his hand and untangle your hold from his wrist. The alpha frowns at the loss of touch, and before he could ask further, you're already pulling away.

"Wait, I have something else to show you."

"What is it? Don't go too far."

"I won't," you laugh at his sudden clinginess but secretly love it. "It should be just under the pillow—oh! Found it!"

When you pull out the fabric from under the pillow, all sound seems to be vaccumed into a silence so resounding you believe a pin-drop would be heard like an earthquake. Jay's smile falters slightly, staring at the piece of garment with recognition.

When his eyes raise to meet yours, they hold so many questions mixing with nostalgia.

"I asked your mom if she had a picture of that cardigan that your grandfather gifted you," you shyly provide, squirming under his intense gaze. "It's not the exact same or near perfect to what he actually gave you. But I tried to copy everything so that it would at least look and feel similar."

The brown cardigan, made from a bolt of cashmere that you negotiated your way to get, sits idly on your palms. It's folded neatly, but the tiny patterns of cherries and thick stripe of pale green is unmistakable for the alpha. Jay simply stares at it, heavy with something finally awakened again after being drowned in a grief and longing so profound that it had quietened the memory.

"…Jay?"

Jay believes he had mentioned it only in a passing, in the spur of the moment when you were looking at him with such vulnerability after a tiring day with your advisor that had prompted him to be vulnerable with you too. He was too deep in this mindset that he has to be a good alpha and provider for you, that sometimes it slips from his mind he needs taking care too.

You hear a quiet sniffle before you're being pulled into a hug again. This time, one of his hands go over the cardigan and holds it with the fervor of a man finding his reason; finding his purpose again after being lost for so long.

"I couldn't thank you enough," Jay whispers, wet with tears that seem unstoppable now. "Thank you, thank you so much, I—I love this so much. I love you."

Your eyes mirror his, your heart squeezing at that. The words echo like the tune of your favourite poem, chiming in your head in a resounding melody that brings deep tranquillity inside you.

I wish to always hold you, you think, as you hold him the same intensity.

You close your eyes and feel something in your chest settles, the frantic heartbeat that used to be lost without any direction has finally found its tempo.

"I love you too."

I wish to always love you, Park Jongseong.

for the minors, this is your ending <3

as for you legal baddies, wait for them fucking later i jinjja will post it soon :p

divider from @/cursed-carmine

permanent taglist: @kristynaaah @seungiesdoll @in-somnias-world @rikismists @loviseamms @ikeupop @k3nza @heezeunx @ot7archives @petulapetula @sugarcwtie @whiskymiller @buttersoob @girliepop-is-in-the-house @jaeyunluvr14