_ダニカ キレイ𖤐.ᐟ

From the moment you'd moved into town with your parents, he had caught your eye. It wasn't just the broad shoulders earned from years of tilling soil or the way his hair caught the light, it was his inherent goodness. When you first met, you could tell he found you utterly intimidating because you were a whirlwind of city boldness he wasn't quite prepared for.

"Are all the boys in this town as cute as you, or did I just get lucky?" You had asked him that very first week, leaning against the fence of his family's pasture.

The way his face had blushed so red he looked like a ripe tomato became your new favorite sight. You loved making him blush, you loved the way he'd stammer and look at his boots, just entirely disarmed by your forwardness.

Eventually, you'd convinced him to take you to his favorite spot in town, which was a secluded bend in the creek where the water ran clear and the willow trees created some kind of private canopy. You remember the way he gasped when you began unbuttoning your blouse without a word of warning, unapologetically shedding your clothes until you stood bare in your underwear in the speckled sunlight.

"Oh Lord!" His eyes wide before he violently whipped around to face the trees. "That...that's real inappropriate! Someone could see you!"

"The only someone here is you, Jakey," you'd laughed as you waded further into the water. The cool creek gripped your skin and you turned back to see him still standing with his back to you stiff as a board. "Come on in. The water's perfect and I promise I won't bite...unless you want me to."

He'd gave one last scared look around the empty clearing, checking for any stray neighbors or family members before he finally started fumbling with his own buttons. He followed you into the water, his movements hesitant and shy, a true testament to the good boy you were so intent on corrupting.

The water was so cool against your skin but the heat he was carrying as he finally sloshed towards you was undeniable. When you wrapped your legs around his waist and locked your arms behind his neck, the splashing water between you felt like static electricity. He looked at you like someone caught between wonder and fear, his large hands carefully hanging over your hips before finally settling there.

"You're gonna kill me, aren't ya?" he breathed, his voice was thick with a nervous but boyish charm. "My heart's thumping so hard I reckon the whole town can hear it."

Not giving him a chance to overthink it too much, you kissed him hard, tasting the fresh water and the sweetness of the moment. When you finally pulled back, all breathless and grinning, Jake didn't let go. His gaze was steady for the first time like was suddenly so level headed by a quiet determination.

"Be my girl?" he whispered and you couldn't deny that the question carried the weight of a lifelong promise. "Properly. Just you and me."

"Yes, Jake," you'd laughed, sealing the deal with another kiss. "I'll be your girl."

Since that day, you had made it your personal mission to test the limits of his good boy upbringing, weeks had passed and as the summer heat heightened, so did your boldness. You knew exactly what you were doing when you wore your shortest daisy dukes to help him in the barn or when you'd make a show of bending over to pick up a fallen tool just so he'd catch a glimpse of your cleavage in your milkmaid top. You'd watch him from the corner of your eye, giggling at the way he'd wipe sweat from his brow and mutter a silent prayer like a sinner in church.

The farmhouse became your favorite playground for these games, you loved to corner him in the dimly lit pantry or behind the heavy oak door of the mudroom, pressing your body flush against his and pulling him into deep kisses. You'd push your tongue into his mouth to taste his surprise and the way he'd let out a shaky huff into the back of your throat.

In those moments, Jake's hands would tremble against your waist cause his mind was a whirlwind of desire but also restraint. He had to keep reminding himself, through the fog of his own mounting hunger, that his mama raised him better than this. He was determined to be the gentleman she had raised, even if you were doing everything in your power to make him forget his own name.

The night you finally had sex, the sky was a clear navy blue with the distant chirping of crickets, it was a perfect backdrop for the date Jake had so meticulously planned. He had lined the bed of his pickup truck with soft blankets and a picnic basket, trying to create a moment as sweet and wholesome as his intentions. But as you sat there under the vast evening sky, the sweetness was quickly overshadowed by a strain that had been building for weeks.

"You're too good to me, Jakey," you whispered and reached over to kiss him.

The kiss had started off soft, like a thank you for the effort but in a flash, it shifted. The weeks of teasing in the barn and the stolen moments in the farmhouse added up in an eager need. Before he could even offer you a sandwich or an iced tea, you were straddling his lap and your fingers were fumbling with the buttons of his work shirt.

When the fabric finally fell away, you took a sharp breath and took in the sight of him. His chest and abs were carved from years of hauling hay and tilling the earth, he was built from honest, grueling farm work that left him looking like a god in the sunset. He was so hot it made your head spin.

"Please," you begged against his neck as you kissed down it. "Jake, please...I don't wanna wait anymore. Just take me."

Jake's hands were shaking as they rested on your hips but he still looked at you with nothing but devotion. "Darlin', I...Are you sure, ma? Don’t wanna hurt ya," he stammered. While he'd had his fair share of girls in the back of this truck, all meaningless flings that never quite reached his heart—you were entirely different. You weren't just another girl from town, you were his and the heat of your body in his lap paired with the scent of your skin, was making him dizzy, like he was trapped in the terrifying space between his upbringing and the all consuming need to finally make you his.

In the cramped, intimate space of the truck bed, he managed to shift you and position himself, lining his cock with your sopping cunt. As he finally began to push into you, the reality of his size became clear—your boyfriend was so girthy and long, a product of nature that your body wasn't quite prepared for.

A sharp gasp escaped your lips as the sensation of being filled so completely made your vision blur.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, sweet thing," Jake breathed and paused to press his forehead against yours as he searched your eyes for any sign that you wanted him to stop. He looked devastated at the thought of causing you any distress, his hands framed your face with absolute reverence. "You alright? I'll stop, I swear, just tell me..."

"Don't stop," you said to him before pulling him back down for a kiss. "Please, Jakey. Don't stop."

Reassured by your touch, he began to move again, thrusting his hip upward as his apologies began to turn into soft, worshipful murmurs of your name while he navigated the beautiful reality of your first time together. It wasn't perfect and it was definitely a far cry from the proper night his mama might have imagined for him but in the back of that truck, with the world narrowed down to the heat of his skin against yours, it was everything.

Jake's hands clamped onto your hips, the strength he'd developed from years of laboring on the farm trying to ground you as he began to bounce you up and down on his length. The pace was so unforgiving, it had your whole body shaking uncontrollably.

He looked up at you with a playful but slightly wicked gleam in his eyes that you hadn't seen before. "Not so mouthy now, are ya, peach?" he teased. "Where'd all that city girl boldness go?".

You let out a broken whimper at his words, letting your head fall back because the thrust of him hitting that perfect spot inside you head on made it impossible for you to form a coherent thought. But then, the playfulness vanished from his face and when you caught a sight of him through your tightly squeezed eyes, all you saw was an intensity so raw it made your heart skip a beat.

"I love you," he confessed abruptly but it sounded more like a vow than a sentence.

The words hit you harder than the physical sensation from how good he was fucking you. You gasped and your eyes snapped open to find him watching you with a panicked look—as if he was terrified he'd ruined the moment by being too serious. Instead of pulling away like he had expected you to, you gripped his shoulders and started to bounce even harder, using the momentum to take every thick inch of him.

"I love you too, Jakey!" you cried out with your voice cracking from the weight of your own admission.

A look of unfiltered relief and joy broke across his face. "Oh lord," he groaned, his grip on your waist tightening as he pulled you down flush against his chest. "I'm gonna marry you. I'm gonna marry the hell out of you."

You didn’t get a chance to respond because he crashed his lips against yours in a kiss that tasted like a lifelong commitment, right there in the bed of his pickup truck.

The shock of his proposal and the unguarded honesty in his voice sent a fresh wave of arousal to your core, making you cling to him as the world narrowed down to the sound of his heavy breathing and the plap plap plap of his thighs hitting your ass. He looked at you with such consuming passion that any lingering embarrassment from your first time together completely evaporated.

"You mean that?" you whispered, your fingers tracing the line of his jaw as the first tremors of your release began to ripple through you.

"Every word, peach," Jake promised, his hands sliding up from your waist to cup your face with a reverence that had you feeling like he saw you as a goddess of some sort. "I’m gon’ make you my wife."

He drove up into you one last time, a deep, final thrust that sealed the promise. You cried out his name into the quiet country night, your body arching and spasming as you came, followed closely by Jake, who huffed over and over into your shoulder as he found his own release and filled you up.

When the quiet of the valley settled back around the pickup truck, he pulled a blanket over both of your damp bodies and tucked you against his chest. He kissed the top of your head, resting his large hand protectively over your heart. Out here, under the canopy of stars and surrounded by the land he had worked his whole life, the sheltered farm boy had found exactly what he didn't know he was looking for.

"I reckon I should ask your pops for your hand now," he murmured with a happy grin, finally closing his eyes and holding you tight as if you were the most precious harvest he'd ever gathered.

nene’s note ── farm boy jake who loves the shit out of me? sign me uppppppp, i’m posting a lot cause im gonna be hella busy next week

© nephynes 2026

he kisses like he has all the time in the world and yet can’t get enough, tongue sliding against yours in lazy strokes that make your head spin. you sigh into his mouth, fingers threading through his dark hair, tugging lightly the way he likes. he groans softly, the sound vibrating between you.

curious and a little greedy, your hands wander lower, sliding from his shoulders down his chest. his shirt is unbuttoned halfway — a casualty of earlier teasing — and your palms press flat against the firm warmth of his pecs. you squeeze experimentally, thumbs brushing over the flat discs of his nipples, and jay jolts like he’s been shocked.

a sharp, broken inhale escapes him. his hips twitch up against yours involuntarily, and the kiss falters for half a second.

you pull back just enough to look at him, lips still brushing. “jay?”

his cheeks are flushed, eyes darker than usual, pupils blown wide. he tries to play it cool, clearing his throat. “nothing. keep going.”

but you’re not stupid. you repeat the motion — slower this time, thumbs circling his nipples deliberately. they harden instantly under your touch, and jay’s head falls back against the couch with a low, wrecked sound.

“fuck,” he breathes, voice rough. “they’re… sensitive.”

your heart skips. a rush of heat floods through you as the realization sinks in. park jongseong — calm, teasing, always-in-control jay — has sensitive nipples. the discovery feels like unlocking a secret weapon. you test it again, pinching one lightly between thumb and forefinger, and his reaction is immediate: a full-body shiver, fingers digging harder into your hips, a quiet whimper slipping out before he can swallow it.

“oh my god,” you whisper, fascinated. “you really like that.”

he doesn’t deny it. instead he pulls you back down into a kiss that’s suddenly much messier, more desperate. from that moment on, nothing is ever the same.

after that night, you become obsessed.

there are no more dull moments when you’re together. you find excuses to touch him there constantly. during a movie night when you’re curled up against his side, your hand slips under his hoodie without warning, fingers seeking out the soft, squishy flesh of his pecs. you knead them gently, thumbs flicking over his nipples until they pebble, and jay’s breath hitches mid-sentence, the popcorn bowl nearly forgotten in his lap.

“baby,” he mutters, voice strained, but he doesn’t stop you. if anything, he arches slightly into your touch, chest pushing forward like he’s offering himself up.

in public it’s subtler but still dangerous. a quick hug hello turns into your palms pressing against his chest “by accident,” pinching lightly through his shirt when no one’s looking. his ears go red every single time, jaw clenching as he fights to keep a straight face while talking to sunghoon or whoever else is around. you love the power of it — how this composed man turns into putty the second your hands find his chest.

makeout sessions become something else entirely.

you push him against the wall one afternoon after work, hands already working his shirt open before the door even clicks shut. your mouth trails from his lips to his neck, then lower, while your fingers never leave his pecs — squeezing, rolling his nipples, pinching just hard enough to make his knees weaken. jay moans openly now, head back against the wall, hips grinding helplessly against yours.

“you’re going to kill me,” he pants, but his hands cradle the back of your head like he never wants you to stop. “fuck, i love when you play with them.”

you hum in satisfaction and latch your mouth onto one nipple, sucking hard. jay’s hand flies to your hair, gripping tight as a broken whimper escapes him. you lick and bite gently, alternating sides, leaving faint red marks that bloom into soft hickeys by the next morning. he never complains. if anything, he wears the collar of his shirts a little lower those days, like he secretly hopes you’ll do it again.

the obsession peaks during sex.

one night you’re riding him slow and deep, the room filled with the wet sounds of skin and heavy breathing. jay’s hands are everywhere — on your ass, your waist, your breasts — but you can tell he’s holding back, eyes glassy with pleasure. you lean down, changing the angle, and drag your nails lightly over his chest before pinching both nipples at once.

jay’s reaction is visceral. his back arches clean off the bed, a loud, needy moan ripping from his throat. “shit— baby, please—”

“please what?” you ask sweetly, rolling your hips while continuing to toy with him. you pinch and tug, then soothe with your palms, squeezing the soft muscle of his pecs.

his eyes squeeze shut, lips parted. “touch me there… harder. fuck, i love your hands on my chest. don’t stop— please don’t stop.”

he begs so prettily it makes you dizzy. and you give him exactly what he wants — licking broad stripes over his nipples, sucking them into your mouth until they’re swollen and glistening, biting down just enough to make him hiss and thrust up into you harder. you cover his chest in hickeys, little purple marks that claim him as yours. every time you press on one later, he’ll shiver and pull you in for a kiss.

and jay, never one to be outdone, returns the favor with devastating enthusiasm.

the first time he does it, you’re on your back, legs wrapped around his waist as he fucks you deep and steady. he moves his head closer, mouth latching onto your nipple without warning, sucking hard while his fingers play with the other. the dual sensation makes you cry out, back arching.

“jay—!”

he lifts his head just enough to smirk, eyes dark. “not so fun when it’s you, huh?” but his voice is wrecked, and he immediately goes back to it — licking, sucking, gently biting, mirroring everything you do to him. his hands knead your breasts possessively, thumbs flicking over your nipples until you’re shaking and clenching around him.

from then on it becomes mutual worship. lazy mornings turn into both of you tangled together, hands and mouths on each other’s chests, trading moans and whispers. he loves sucking on yours until you’re dripping and desperate, then sliding into you while still latched on. you love reducing him to whimpers and pleas by playing with his sensitive pecs until he’s rutting into you like he can’t control himself.

“you’re obsessed,” he teases one night, voice rough as you straddle him again, palms already cupping his chest, thumbs circling.

you pinch lightly and watch his eyes flutter. “says the guy who begs me to touch his tits every time we fuck.”

jay laughs breathlessly, the sound cutting off into a groan when you lean down and suck one nipple into your mouth. his hands fly to your ass, pulling you down onto him.

“guilty,” he admits, hips snapping up. “they’re yours now. do whatever you want.”

and you do. every chance you get.

there will never be a dull moment again.

© jongst4r, 2026

You were already in his bed, wearing only his favorite oversized black shirt that barely reached mid thigh. The moment he closed the door behind him, you moved.You rose to your knees, caught his wrist, and pulled him down onto the mattress with you. Heeseung let out a soft, surprised chuckle, his deep voice rumbling.“Missed me that bad, baby?” he murmured, settling back against the pillows as you climbed over him.

But you didn’t answer with words. Instead, your hand slipped into his sweatpants, wrapping around his half hard length. He inhaled sharply, eyes fluttering for a second as you stroked him slowly to full hardness. Within moments he was thick and heavy in your palm, veins pulsing under your fingers. You pushed his waistband down just enough, positioned yourself over him, and sank down in one smooth, deliberate motion.

Heeseung’s cock stretched you open, filling you completely until your ass rested against his thighs, every inch buried deep inside your warm, wet heat. No thrusts no bouncing just staying perfectly still with him sheathed to the hilt.

“Fuck—” Heeseung’s voice broke into a low groan, his hands flying to your hips instantly, fingers digging into the soft flesh as if to ground himself. His eyes widened, dark and intense, locking onto yours with that signature leader intensity. His chest rose and fell rapidly, breath already ragged. “Y/N you’re so fucking warm so tight around me right now.”

For a long moment, neither of you moved. The only sounds were your mingled breathing and the faint wet sound of your bodies adjusting to each other. Heeseung’s cock twitched hard inside you, thickening even more at the sudden enveloping heat. You could feel every ridge, every vein, the way his pulse beat steadily against your inner walls. Your own pussy fluttered involuntarily around him, clenching and releasing in little pulses that made his jaw tighten.

Heeseung’s hands slid up under the shirt you wore his shirt—tracing the curve of your waist, thumbs brushing the undersides of your breasts. “You initiating this?” he whispered, voice dropping into that dangerously low register that always sent shivers down your spine. A slow, predatory smirk tugged at his lips, the one that made fans scream and made your stomach twist with want. “No warning, just sliding down on my cock like you own it my greedy girl I love it.”

He pulled you closer until your chests pressed together, your nipples hardening against him through the thin fabric. His lips found your neck, pressing open mouthed kisses along the column of your throat, sucking gently at your pulse point. Every tiny shift of your body caused delicious friction—his cock nudging deeper without any real thrusting. Heeseung let out a shaky exhale against your skin.

“Stay still like this for me,” he murmured, one hand moving to cup the back of your head, fingers threading through your hair. “I want to feel everything how wet you’re getting how you’re squeezing me.” He flexed his hips in the tiniest circle, barely perceptible, but enough to make you both gasp. “Shit, you feel incredible like velvet fire around my cock.”

Minutes stretched out. Heeseung was always patient in moments like this teasing, savoring, drawing out the pleasure until it bordered on torture. He kept you locked in place with strong arms, his body heat mingling with yours. His free hand roamed lazily: squeezing your ass, tracing your spine, rolling a nipple between his fingers until you whimpered softly. Each sound you made earned you a deep, appreciative groan from him.

“You’re dripping down my balls already,” he observed in that husky tone, voice vibrating against your ear. He reached between your bodies just enough to feel where you were joined, collecting some of your slick on his fingers and bringing them to his mouth. His eyes never left yours as he licked them clean. “Taste so sweet for me all this just from having me inside you?”

The praise made you clench harder around him. Heeseung’s head fell back against the pillow, exposing the sharp line of his jaw and the bob of his Adam’s apple as he swallowed thickly. “That’s it keep doing that. Milk my cock while we stay like this.” His restraint was impressive, but you could feel the tension coiling in his muscles—the way his thighs trembled slightly beneath you, the constant subtle twitches of his length buried deep.

He kissed you then—slow, deep, and filthy. His tongue slid against yours in the same unhurried rhythm he used when he wanted to drive you crazy. One hand stayed on your hip, holding you down firmly so you couldn’t ride him even if you tried. The other tangled in your hair, tilting your head to deepen the kiss. When he pulled back, a string of saliva connected your lips for a second.

“I’ve thought about this,” he confessed quietly, forehead pressed to yours. “Coming home and having you warm my cock while we talk about our day feeling you pulse around me for hours.” His voice was pure velvet. “You’re perfect so fucking perfect for me.”

Time blurred ten minutes fifteen twenty. Heeseung kept up the intimate conversation, whispering filthy observations mixed with sweet nothings. How your walls fluttered when he praised you. How he could feel you getting wetter with every passing second. How much he loved being this connected, skin to skin, heartbeat to heartbeat. Occasionally he’d roll his hips in minute movements just enough to grind against that sensitive spot inside you without breaking the cockwarming stillness.

Your breathing grew heavier, matching his. Sweat began to bead on his chest where your bodies pressed together. Heeseung’s eyes were half lidded, dark with lust, but there was also that soft affection he reserved only for you the way he stroked your cheek with his thumb, the gentle kisses he pressed to your temple.

“You’re shaking,” he noted with a soft laugh, the sound low and affectionate. “Am I that deep, baby? Filling you up so good you can’t even think?” He flexed again, deliberately this time, making his cock jump inside you. The sensation drew a broken moan from your throat. Heeseung’s smirk widened. “Good girl let me hear you.”

The tension built unbearably. Your clit throbbed against his pelvis, aching for friction, but he kept you pinned, savoring the slow burn. Heeseung’s breathing was ragged now, control fraying at the edges. His hands gripped you tighter, almost bruising.

“I don’t know how much longer I can stay still,” he admitted, voice strained. “You feel too fucking good so hot and tight sucking me in like you never want me to leave.” He kissed you again, harder this time, more desperate. His hips gave a small, involuntary thrust upward, pushing him impossibly deeper.

You clenched hard in response, and Heeseung groaned loudly, the sound echoing in the quiet room. “Fuck, do that again.” When you did, his resolve cracked. He rolled you both suddenly, still connected, pinning you beneath his larger frame without ever pulling out. The new position let him press even deeper, the head of his cock nudging against your cervix.

“Look at me,” he commanded softly, elbows braced on either side of your head. His damp hair fell forward, framing his handsome face. “I need to move now need to fuck you properly after feeling you warm me for so long.”

What followed was intense. Heeseung started with slow, deep thrusts pulling out just enough to feel your walls drag along his length before sliding back home. Each stroke was deliberate, savoring the glide. His pace gradually increased, hips snapping with controlled power. The wet sounds of your bodies meeting filled the room, mixed with his low grunts and your moans.

“You started this,” he panted against your neck, biting down gently. “Taking my cock like that the second I walked in such a naughty girl.” One hand slipped between you, thumb circling your clit in tight spirals. “Come for me while I’m inside you want to feel you fall apart around my cock.”

The orgasm hit you hard, walls spasming violently around him. Heeseung cursed, burying his face in your shoulder as he fucked you through it, prolonging the pleasure. His own release followed soon after deep, powerful thrusts that pushed him to the hilt as he spilled inside you, groaning your name in that beautiful, wrecked voice.

Afterwards, he didn’t pull out immediately. Heeseung stayed buried deep, collapsing half on top of you with his weight comforting rather than crushing. He pressed soft kisses to your face, your lips, your eyelids, whispering praises.

“You’re amazing,” he murmured, voice hoarse. “I love when you take control like that. Love feeling so close to you.” His fingers traced lazy patterns on your skin as you both came down, still intimately connected. The afterglow stretched long, warm, and full of quiet affection.

Heeseung eventually shifted to lie on his side, pulling you with him so you stayed spooned together, his cock softening but still nestled inside you. “We’re sleeping like this tonight,” he decided with a sleepy, satisfied smile. “Don’t want to lose this feeling.”

The room grew quiet again, filled only with your synced breathing and the occasional soft kiss. Heeseung held you like you were the most precious thing in his world leader, lover, and the man who had just been completely undone by your bold initiation.

◟✿ jay ˒ The living room in the dorm was dimly lit, the only light coming from the large TV screen paused on Jay’s game. The rest of the members had gone to bed or out, leaving the space quiet except for the low hum of the city outside and the occasional click of the controller. Jay was sprawled on the wide couch in black sweatpants and a loose white tee, one arm draped over the backrest, looking effortlessly handsome with his sharp jawline and focused dark eyes. His hair was slightly tousled from running his fingers through it during the match.

You had been watching him from the doorway for a few minutes, heat pooling low in your belly at the sight of his relaxed posture and the way the fabric of his sweats outlined his thighs. Without warning, you crossed the room, climbed onto the couch, and straddled his lap. Jay’s eyebrows rose in surprise, a small smirk already forming on his lips.

“Hey, what’s—?” he started, but the words died when your hand slipped inside his waistband, pulling his cock free. He was already half hard from the way you’d been looking at him earlier. You stroked him firmly a few times until he was fully erect thick, veined, and heavy in your grip then positioned yourself and sank down in one smooth, deliberate motion.

Jay’s cock stretched you open deliciously, filling every inch until you were seated flush against him, his length buried to the hilt inside your tight, wet cunt. No movement just pure cockwarming.

“Shit—!” Jay’s head slammed back against the couch cushions, a sharp groan tearing from his throat. His hands shot to your waist instantly, fingers digging in hard enough to leave marks. His eyes flew open wide, dark and blown with lust as he stared at you in shock and raw hunger. “Y/N… fuck, you just— you took me all the way in like that?”

His voice was rough, that slight American accent thickening with arousal. For several long seconds, he didn’t move, simply breathing through the overwhelming sensation of your walls enveloping him completely—hot, slick, and pulsing around his cock. You could feel him twitch and swell even thicker inside you, the head pressing firmly against your deepest point.

Jay let out a shaky, impressed laugh, his chest rising and falling rapidly under you. “Bold as hell initiating cockwarming right in the middle of my game? You’re something else, princess.” His hands slid down to grip your ass possessively, squeezing the soft flesh as he adjusted his posture slightly, spreading his thighs wider so you sank even deeper. The new angle made both of you moan softly.

He looked down between your joined bodies where you were connected, then slowly dragged his gaze back up to your face. “You’re so fucking wet already. I can feel it dripping down my balls.” Jay’s voice dropped lower, husky and teasing. One hand slipped under the hem of the oversized shirt you wore his shirt again and traced up your spine, leaving goosebumps in its wake. “No warning just sliding that pretty pussy down on my cock and staying there. You missed me that much huh ?”

You stayed perfectly still, savoring the intimate fullness. Jay’s cock throbbed steadily inside you, matching his quickened heartbeat. He pulled you closer until your chests pressed together, his lips finding yours in a slow, deep kiss that quickly turned filthy. His tongue explored your mouth with the same controlled intensity he brought to everything precise, overwhelming, leaving you breathless.

When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours. “We’re doing this properly then,” he murmured, voice vibrating against your skin. “Stay right there don’t move.” His restraint was impressive he didn’t thrust up into you despite the obvious need. Instead, he focused on the connection, rolling his hips in tiny, lazy circles that created the barest friction enough to make your walls flutter around him without breaking the cockwarming stillness.

“God, you feel incredible,” Jay whispered, lips brushing your ear. “So warm and tight… like you were made to warm my cock like this.” His hands roamed everywhere cupping your breasts through the shirt, thumbs circling your hardening nipples until you whimpered. He pinched lightly, drawing a gasp from you that made his cock jump inside your heat. “That’s it squeeze me just like that I want to feel every little pulse.”

The minutes stretched deliciously. Jay was vocal, whispering a constant stream of praise and filth in that low, accented tone that always melted you. “You’re getting wetter every second. Soaking my sweats already.” He reached between you, fingers grazing where you were stretched around him, collecting your slick before bringing it to your lips. “Taste how much you want this.” His eyes darkened as you sucked his fingers clean.

He kissed along your jaw, down your neck, sucking marks into your skin while staying buried deep. Every tiny shift of your body earned a quiet curse from him. “Fuck, princess you’re clenching so hard. Trying to pull me even deeper?” Jay’s self-control was fraying at the edges you could feel the tension in his thighs, the way his abs flexed under you but he held you firmly in place, one arm wrapped around your waist like a steel band.

“I’ve been thinking about you all day,” he confessed between kisses, voice rough. “Practice was long, but coming home to this? You sinking down on me and keeping me warm best surprise ever.” He flexed deliberately, making his cock nudge against that sensitive spot inside you. The sensation drew a broken moan from your throat. Jay smirked against your neck. “Sensitive there, huh? Good. I want you aching for me while we stay like this.”

Fifteen minutes passed twenty. Jay kept the slow burn going, alternating between deep kisses and soft, affectionate ones. His hands never stopped moving—stroking your back, squeezing your thighs, occasionally tilting your hips just enough to grind subtly. Sweat started to bead on his forehead, his white tee clinging slightly to his chest. The room felt hotter, thicker with tension.

“You’re trembling,” he observed, pulling back to look at you with those intense eyes. A cocky, affectionate smile tugged at his lips. “Am I too big like this? Stretching you so full you can’t think straight?” He rolled his hips again in that maddeningly small motion. “I could stay buried in you for hours. Just feeling how perfect you are around me.”

Your clit throbbed against his pelvis, desperate for more friction, but Jay kept you pinned, drawing out the anticipation. His breathing grew ragged, control slipping. “I don’t know how much longer I can hold back,” he admitted, voice strained. “You feel too fucking good. Hot, wet, squeezing my cock like you never want me to leave.”

He kissed you harder then, more desperate, tongue sliding against yours as his hips gave a small involuntary thrust. The movement pushed him impossibly deeper, making you both groan loudly. Jay’s hands gripped your ass tighter. “Fuck it,” he growled softly.

In one fluid motion, he flipped you onto your back on the couch without pulling out, his body covering yours. The new position let him press even deeper, the head of his cock kissing your cervix. Jay braced himself on his elbows, staring down at you with dark, hungry eyes.

“Look at me,” he commanded, voice low and authoritative. His damp hair fell forward as he started moving—slow, deep thrusts at first, pulling out just enough to feel your walls drag along every inch before sliding back home. The wet, obscene sounds of your bodies meeting filled the living room.

“You started this,” Jay panted, snapping his hips harder. “Taking my cock the second you wanted it such a greedy princess.” One hand slipped between you, his thumb finding your clit and rubbing tight, perfect circles. “Come on my cock. Want to feel you fall apart while I’m still so deep inside you.”

The pleasure built fast and intense. Your orgasm crashed over you, walls spasming violently around his thick length. Jay cursed loudly, fucking you through it with powerful, controlled strokes. “That’s it—fuck, just like that. So good for me.”

His own release followed soon after. Jay buried himself to the hilt, hips stuttering as he came deep inside you with a low, guttural groan of your name. You felt every pulse, every spurt of warmth filling you.

Afterwards, Jay didn’t pull out right away. He collapsed half on top of you, careful not to crush you, and pressed soft, lazy kisses to your lips, your cheeks, your forehead. “You’re incredible,” he murmured, voice hoarse and satisfied. “Love when you take what you want like that.”

He stayed nestled inside you as he shifted you both to a more comfortable position on the couch, spooning you against his chest. His arms wrapped around you protectively, one hand gently stroking your thigh. “We’re staying like this for a while longer,” he decided with a lazy, content smile. “Don’t want to lose this feeling yet.”

The TV remained paused and forgotten. Jay nuzzled into your neck, whispering sweet nothings mixed with more praise as the afterglow settled over both of you—warm, intimate, and full of quiet affection. His cock softened slowly inside you, but he made no move to separate, content to keep you connected as long as possible.

◟✿ jake ˒ The bedroom was softly lit by a single bedside lamp, casting a warm golden glow over the rumpled sheets. Jake had just returned from a late dance practice, his body tired but still buzzing with leftover energy. He was lying on his back in bed, shirtless in just a pair of gray sweatpants that hung low on his hips, one arm slung over his eyes as he tried to unwind. His messy brown hair was damp with sweat, and his toned abs rose and fell with steady breaths. The faint scent of his body wash—clean and slightly citrusy lingered in the air.

You had been waiting for him, heart racing with anticipation. The moment he settled in, you moved quietly, climbing onto the bed and straddling his lap without a word. Jake stirred, lifting his arm with a sleepy, affectionate smile. “Hey, baby missed y—”

The words cut off in a sharp inhale as your hand slipped into his sweatpants, freeing his cock. He was already semi hard from the casual closeness, and a few strokes had him fully erect thick, long, and flushed. You positioned yourself over him and sank down slowly but deliberately, taking every inch until your hips met his and his cock was buried completely inside your tight, welcoming cunt.

Jake’s eyes flew open wide, a mix of shock and instant pleasure flashing across his handsome face. “Oh my god—babe!” His voice cracked beautifully, that bright Australian accent thickening with arousal. His hands shot to your thighs instantly, fingers gripping the soft flesh as his back arched slightly off the bed. “Fuck… you’re so warm so fucking warm and tight around me right now.”

For a long moment, he just stared up at you, lips parted, chest heaving. A bright blush crept up his neck and across his cheeks, but his eyes sparkled with pure lust and adoration. His cock twitched hard inside you, swelling even thicker as your walls fluttered and adjusted to his size. You could feel every ridge, every vein pulsing against your inner walls, the head pressed deep.

Jake let out a breathless, disbelieving laugh, the sound warm and husky. “You just… slid down on me like that? No warning, nothing?” He bit his lip, eyes darkening as he looked down to where your bodies were joined. “Jesus, princess…you feel incredible like heaven. I love when you surprise me like this.”

His hands slid up your thighs to your waist, pulling you down flush against him so your chests pressed together. The oversized shirt you wore his, of course rode up, and he slipped his hands underneath, palms warm and slightly calloused from practice as they roamed your bare skin. “Stay like this,” he whispered, voice already rough. “Don’t move yet. I want to feel all of you every little squeeze.”

Jake was affectionate even in the filthiest moments. He pulled you into a deep kiss slow and sweet at first, full of that warmth, then growing more heated as his tongue tangled with yours. His hips gave one tiny, involuntary roll, nudging deeper without breaking the stillness. The sensation drew matching gasps from both of you.

“You’re already so wet,” he murmured against your lips, forehead resting against yours. “I can feel it. You’ve been thinking about this, haven’t you? My sweet girl initiating cockwarming the second I get home.” His smile was bright and playful, but his voice carried that low, needy edge. One hand cupped the back of your head, fingers threading through your hair while the other squeezed your ass possessively, holding you in place.

He stayed perfectly still for long minutes, savoring the intimate connection. His cock throbbed steadily inside your heat, and every time your walls clenched around him whether from pleasure or on purpose he let out a soft, wrecked groan. “That’s it… just like that keep pulsing around me. Feels so good, baby.”

Jake’s hands never stopped moving gentle but exploratory. He traced your spine under the shirt, cupped your breasts and rolled your nipples between his fingers until they pebbled. He kissed everywhere he could reach your lips, your jaw, the sensitive spot beneath your ear, your collarbone. Between kisses, he whispered constant praise in that addictive accent.

“You’re so perfect for me. So tight and hot like you were made to warm my cock.” He flexed deliberately inside you, making his length jump and nudge that sweet spot. The tiny movement sent sparks through both of you. “Mmm, hear that little whimper? I love it love how full you feel with me inside.”

The cockwarming stretched on Jake’s usual playful energy mixed with deepening desire. Sweat began to glisten on his chest where your bodies were pressed together. His breathing grew heavier, but he held you firmly, refusing to let you ride him yet. “Not yet,” he’d murmur with a teasing grin whenever you shifted. “I want to enjoy this a little longer. Just feeling you around me… so wet and snug.”

He reached between your bodies once, fingers grazing your stretched folds where you took him so deeply. Collecting some of your slick, he brought his fingers to his mouth and licked them clean, eyes locked on yours the entire time. “Tastes so sweet all this because my cock is buried in you? God, I’m lucky.”

Your clit throbbed against his pelvis, aching for friction, but Jake kept the slow burn alive. He rolled his hips in maddeningly small circles barely any movement, but enough to grind subtly and keep the pleasure building. “You’re shaking already,” he observed softly, affection clear in his voice. “Am I that deep, baby? Stretching you so good you’re trembling on top of me?”

The tension coiled tighter. Jake’s control was fraying despite his sweet demeanor. His thighs tensed beneath you, abs flexing as he fought the urge to thrust. “I don’t think I can stay still much longer,” he admitted, voice strained and husky. “You feel too fucking amazing. Hot, wet, squeezing me like you never want me to pull out.”

He kissed you desperately then, tongue sliding deep as his hips gave a small involuntary buck. The movement pushed him impossibly deeper, drawing loud moans from both of you. Jake’s hands gripped your hips tighter. “Fuck… okay, I need you.”

In one smooth motion, he rolled you both over without pulling out, settling on top while staying fully sheathed. The new position let gravity press him even deeper, the head of his cock kissing your cervix. Jake braced himself on his elbows, messy hair falling forward as he looked down at you with bright, lust-filled eyes and that heart-melting smile.

“Eyes on me, beautiful,” he whispered, starting to move slow, deep thrusts at first. He pulled back just enough for your walls to drag along his length before sliding home again, the wet sounds of your connection filling the quiet room. His pace was enthusiastic and passionate, exactly like Jake—full of energy and focus on your pleasure.

“You started this,” he panted, lips brushing yours between thrusts. “Climbing on me and taking my cock so perfectly such a good girl.” One hand slipped between you, thumb finding your swollen clit and rubbing perfect, tight circles in time with his strokes. “Come for me while I’m this deep. Want to feel you milking my cock.”

The orgasm hit you hard and fast, walls spasming violently around his thick cock. Jake groaned loudly, the sound raw and beautiful as he fucked you through it, hips snapping with controlled power. “Yes—fuck, just like that. So tight, baby so perfect.”

His own climax followed soon after. Jake buried himself to the hilt, hips stuttering as he came deep inside you with a long, throaty moan of your name. You felt every pulse, every warm spurt filling you as he trembled above you.

Afterwards, Jake didn’t pull out. He collapsed gently on top of you, careful with his weight, and buried his face in your neck. Soft, lazy kisses peppered your skin your shoulder, your jaw, your lips. “You’re amazing,” he murmured, voice hoarse and full of affection. “I love when you take initiative like that feeling you warm me… best way to end the night.”

He shifted carefully, pulling you with him so you were spooned against his chest, his cock still nestled softly inside you. His arms wrapped around you securely, one hand gently stroking your thigh and hip. “We’re staying like this,” he decided with a sleepy, satisfied grin, nuzzling into your hair. “Don’t want to lose this closeness yet feels too good to let go”

The room fell into comfortable quiet, filled with your synced breathing and occasional soft whispers. Jake pressed gentle kisses to the back of your neck, murmuring how much he loved you, how perfect you felt, how he could stay connected like this forever. His body heat enveloped you, the afterglow warm and lingering as you both drifted toward sleep intimately joined, content, and utterly satisfied.

◟✿ sunghoon ˒ The dorm’s private gym corner in the basement level was quiet and dimly lit, the only illumination coming from a single overhead LED strip that cast cool, bluish tones across the mirrored walls. Sunghoon had stayed back after the others left, working on his core strength and flexibility routines that kept his figure skating precision sharp even in idol life. Sweat glistened on his skin, his black tank top clinging to his lean, sculpted torso and his loose training shorts riding low on his narrow hips. His dark hair was damp, pushed back from his forehead, and his sharp jaw was set in concentration as he finished a set of planks, breathing controlled and steady.

You had slipped down quietly to find him, drawn by the low sounds of his exertion. The air smelled of clean sweat and the faint citrus of his post workout spray. Without announcing yourself, you waited until he rolled onto his back to stretch his hip flexors, legs bent and slightly apart. That was your moment. You moved swiftly, straddling his waist and tugging his shorts and briefs down just enough to free his cock.

Sunghoon’s eyes snapped open, dark and intense, as your hand stroked him quickly to full hardness long, thick, and curving slightly upward. Before he could form a question, you lined him up and sank down in one fluid, deliberate glide, enveloping every inch until you were fully seated, your ass flush against his pelvis. His cock was buried to the hilt inside your slick heat.

A sharp hiss escaped Sunghoon’s lips, his hands instinctively flying to your hips, fingers pressing hard into your skin. His usual cool, princely composure shattered in an instant. “Y/N—” His voice came out strained, lower than usual, almost a growl. His eyes widened, pupils dilating rapidly as the overwhelming sensation hit him your walls hugging him so tightly, so warmly, pulsing around his length without any movement.

He stayed frozen beneath you for several heartbeats, chest heaving, abs contracting visibly under the tank top. The position him on his back on the cool gym mat, you perched perfectly on his cock made everything feel impossibly deep. “You… you really just took me like that? Right here?” Surprise laced his tone, but it quickly melted into dark arousal. A faint blush colored his sharp cheekbones, contrasting his typically icy visuals.

Sunghoon’s hands trembled slightly as they gripped you, holding you down so neither of you could shift. His cock throbbed powerfully inside your pussy, swelling thicker at the sudden intimate embrace. You could feel every ridge, the subtle curve pressing against your front wall, his heartbeat pulsing through the vein along his shaft. The mirrored walls around you reflected the scene back endlessly your bodies joined, his long legs stretched out beneath you.

“Fuck… you’re burning hot around me,” he whispered, voice husky and amazed. He licked his lips, gaze dropping to where you were stretched so obscenely around him. One hand slid up your thigh, pushing the hem of your thin dress higher, exposing more skin. “No prep, no talking… just sinking onto my cock after my workout so fucking bold tonight.”

Sunghoon didn’t immediately pull you down for kisses. He was more visual, more sensory. He kept you upright on him, eyes roaming your body as he adjusted his breathing. His fingers traced slow patterns on your thighs, then higher, thumbs brushing dangerously close to your clit without touching. The stillness amplified everything the faint twitch of his cock, the way your walls fluttered in response, the shared heat building between your connected bodies.

“Stay exactly like this,” he commanded softly, that deep, velvety tone sending shivers through you. He flexed his hips in the tiniest upward tilt, barely noticeable but enough to nudge deeper, drawing a gasp from both of you. “I want to feel how wet you get just from holding me inside. Look at the mirror.” He nodded toward the wall. “Watch how perfectly you take me.”

You both turned your heads. The reflection was erotic Sunghoon’s lean, powerful body beneath you, sweat making his skin glow, his cock disappearing into your body. He groaned low at the sight, his free hand reaching to squeeze your ass, spreading you slightly for a better view. “So tight gripping me like you’re afraid I’ll disappear. But I’m not going anywhere.”

Minutes passed in charged silence broken only by soft breaths. Sunghoon was masterful at restraint years of skating discipline showing in how he held perfectly still while his body screamed for friction. But he wasn’t silent. He murmured observations in that precise, low voice, each word dripping with lust.

“Your pussy is dripping down my shaft already. I can feel it coating my balls.” He shifted one leg slightly, bending his knee to change the angle just enough to press against a new spot inside you. The subtle movement made you clench hard. Sunghoon’s head tipped back, exposing the elegant line of his neck as he swallowed thickly. “Again do that again.”

You obeyed, and he rewarded you with a rare, devastating smile half smirk, half genuine pleasure. His hands moved with purpose now one staying on your hip to anchor you, the other slipping under your dress to cup your breast, rolling the nipple between cool fingers. “Sensitive tonight. Everything feels heightened because we’re not moving, doesn’t it?” He pinched lightly, eyes locked on your face, drinking in every reaction.

The cockwarming dragged on deliciously. Sweat from his workout mixed with new beads of arousal on his skin. The gym mat stuck slightly to his back, but he didn’t care. Sunghoon’s usual aloofness cracked further with every passing second his breathing grew ragged, and his thighs tensed beneath you like coiled springs.

“You’re so warm and slick it’s driving me insane,” he confessed, voice breaking into a whisper. He reached up, pulling you down until your chests met, but still no real thrusting. Instead, he wrapped both arms around your waist, holding you impossibly close. His lips finally found your neck—not soft kisses, but deliberate, sucking bites that would leave faint marks. “I train for hours to stay controlled, but you come in here and undo all of it in seconds.”

He guided your head to his shoulder, letting you feel his rapid heartbeat against your cheek while his cock continued its constant, throbbing presence inside you. Every tiny involuntary clench from you earned a quiet curse or a sharp inhale. Sunghoon’s hand trailed down your back, fingers dancing along your spine before gripping your ass again, spreading you wider in the reflection.

“Look how deep I am,” he murmured, voice dark. “You’re taking all of me so well my perfect girl.” The praise was sparse but potent, delivered in that intensity. He flexed again, this time holding the tension longer, letting his curved tip grind subtly against your g-spot without pulling out. The pressure built unbearably, your clit aching where it pressed against his pelvis.

Your whimpers grew louder. Sunghoon’s control finally frayed. “I can’t… I need to feel more.” In a swift, powerful move, he rolled you both sideways on the mat, keeping his cock fully sheathed. Now on your sides facing each other, legs tangled, he hooked one of your thighs over his hip. The new angle allowed even deeper penetration, his body curving into yours.

Sunghoon stared into your eyes, foreheads nearly touching. “You initiated this. Now take what comes next.” He began moving—slow, rolling thrusts that never fully withdrew, keeping the connection intimate and constant. Each stroke was precise, controlled, hitting every sensitive spot with skater-like grace and power. The wet, slick sounds echoed softly in the empty gym space.

His hand slipped between you, fingers finding your clit and rubbing in tight, expert circles. “Come on my cock,” he demanded quietly, eyes never leaving yours. “I want to feel you squeeze me while I’m this deep.” The intensity built fast his lean muscles flexing, hips snapping with increasing force while still somehow maintaining that connected depth.

Your orgasm crashed over you suddenly, walls convulsing hard around his thick length. Sunghoon groaned, deep and guttural, fucking you through the waves with focused thrusts. “Yes… just like that so good—fuck.” His own release followed moments later. He buried himself as deep as possible, hips stuttering as he spilled inside you, warm pulses filling you while he held you tight against him.

Afterwards, Sunghoon stayed inside, not pulling out. He rolled onto his back again, bringing you on top once more, his arms wrapped securely around you. His breathing slowed gradually, fingers tracing soothing patterns on your back. The cool gym air contrasted with your heated bodies.

“That was unexpected,” he said softly, a small, satisfied smile playing on his lips. His voice regained some of its usual calm, but affection warmed it. “I like when you catch me off guard. Makes me feel alive.” He pressed a surprisingly gentle kiss to your temple, then your lips lingering and tender.

He didn’t move to separate. Instead, he reached for a nearby towel, draping it over your joined lower bodies casually. “We’ll stay like this until I say otherwise. I’m not ready to lose how warm you feel yet.” His hand stroked your hair, the other resting possessively on your ass, keeping you pinned.

The mirrors reflected your entwined forms in the low light. Sunghoon’s usual aura softened into quiet intimacy. He whispered occasional praises how perfect you felt, how he’d think about this during his next practice while his cock softened slowly inside you, still nestled comfortably. The afterglow stretched long, the gym quiet except for your breathing, creating a private world just for the two of you.

Eventually, he helped you up carefully, still connected, and carried you toward the elevator back to the main dorm levels, your legs wrapped around him. “Shower together later?” he suggested with a raised eyebrow, already planning to extend the closeness.

◟✿ sunoo ˒ The soft glow of string lights wrapped around the headboard filled Sunoo’s room with a warm, pinkish hue, creating a cozy, almost dreamy atmosphere. It was well past midnight, and the rest of the dorm had settled into silence after a long day of rehearsals. Sunoo had been unwinding in his favorite way sitting cross legged in the middle of his bed, a fluffy blanket draped over his lap, humming softly to himself while applying a sheet mask to his face. His skin was dewy from the recent cleanse, and he wore a loose white tank top paired with soft black shorts that rode up his thighs. His hair was slightly tousled, falling cutely over his forehead, and his expressive eyes sparkled with that signature Sunoo brightness even as he relaxed.

You entered quietly, drawn by the gentle melody he was humming one of their upcoming tracks. He glanced up with a bright smile, peeling the edge of the mask. “Hey~ You’re still up? Come here, I’ll share the mask—” But you had other plans. You crawled onto the bed, gently pushing his shoulders back until he was propped against the pile of pillows. Before he could react fully, you tugged his shorts down just enough, revealing his smooth, pretty cock. A few teasing strokes had him hardening quickly elegant and sensitive, responding beautifully to your touch.

Sunoo’s eyes widened in surprise, the sheet mask crinkling as his mouth formed a perfect ‘O’. You straddled him smoothly, pulling your own sleep shorts aside, and sank down onto him in one slow, intentional glide. Inch by inch, you took him until he was fully nestled inside your warm, slick walls, your hips flush against his. Pure cockwarming—no immediate movement, just the intimate, throbbing connection.

“Ahh—! Y/N…” Sunoo’s voice came out in a breathy, melodic gasp, higher-pitched than usual with shock and pleasure. His hands flew to your waist, fingers curling into the fabric of your top as his whole body tensed beneath you. The sheet mask slipped slightly on his cheek, but he didn’t bother fixing it. His cheeks flushed a deep pink almost instantly, that adorable blush spreading down his neck. “You… you really just sat on me like that? While I’m doing skincare?” A soft, disbelieving giggle escaped him, mixing cuteness with growing arousal.

His cock twitched vividly inside you, thickening and pulsing as your heat enveloped him completely. You could feel every subtle ridge, the way he fit so perfectly, like he was made for this closeness. Sunoo’s breathing quickened, his chest rising and falling under the thin tank top. He stared up at you with those large, expressive doe eyes, a mix of playful shock and deep want shining through.

“Wow… you’re so warm and tight right now,” he whispered, voice turning husky yet still retaining that sweet, bell like quality. He bit his plush lower lip, trying to stay composed, but the way his thighs shifted slightly underneath you betrayed him. Instead of immediately pulling you down for kisses, Sunoo reached up and gently adjusted his sheet mask with one hand, the other staying firmly on your hip to hold you still.

He let out another soft laugh, but it dissolved into a quiet moan as your walls fluttered around him involuntarily. The position him half reclined against pillows, you fully seated in his lap under the pretty string lights felt intimate and almost romantic. Sunoo’s free hand trailed up your side, slipping under your top to caress your bare skin with feather light touches. “Don’t move yet, okay? Let me feel you all of you holding me like this.”

True to his playful nature, Sunoo kept the moment light even as heat built between you. He tilted his head, studying your face with sparkling eyes while staying perfectly still. His cock continued to throb steadily inside your pussy, the sensation amplified by the lack of movement. “It feels like you’re hugging me from the inside,” he murmured sweetly, then giggled again when you clenched on purpose. “That’s cheating but I like it.”

Minutes ticked by in this dreamy haze. Sunoo was vocal and affectionate, filling the quiet room with whispered compliments and little hums. He finally peeled the sheet mask off completely, tossing it aside, revealing his glowing skin. “Look at us,” he said, nodding toward the mirror across the room that reflected your connected forms under the soft lights. “You look so pretty on me like this so full.”

His hands explored gently tracing your curves, cupping your breasts through the fabric, thumbs brushing over your nipples until they peaked. Each touch was tender yet teasing, never rushing. He leaned forward slightly to nuzzle your neck, pressing soft, lingering kisses along your collarbone while his hips remained motionless. The only “movement” came from subtle flexes—him deliberately pulsing his cock inside you, making you both gasp.

“You’re getting wetter I can feel it trickling down,” Sunoo observed in a hushed, almost reverent tone, his voice like velvet. “All because my cock is just sitting warm inside you? that’s so hot.” He sucked a small mark just below your ear, then pulled back to watch your reactions, his own face flushed and eyes half lidded with pleasure. The skincare scent mixed with the growing musk of arousal, creating an oddly intimate atmosphere unique to him.

Sunoo’s usual bright energy simmered into something deeper and needier. He started humming again softly a gentle melody that vibrated through his chest into yours while one hand slipped between your bodies without breaking the seal. His fingers hovered near your clit, teasing circles in the air just close enough to make you ache, but he didn’t touch fully yet. “Patience,” he teased with a cute pout, even as sweat beaded on his forehead. “I want to remember every second of you warming me so nicely.”

Your whimpers made his resolve waver. Sunoo’s breathing grew uneven, his plush lips parting as he fought the urge to thrust. “You feel too good so silky and hot. I could stay like this forever, just talking and feeling you squeeze me.” He finally cupped your face with both hands, pulling you into a slow, deep kiss. It was sweet at first then turned passionate, tongues gliding lazily in time with the subtle throbbing between your legs.

The tension coiled tighter. Sunoo’s thighs trembled beneath you, his lean body taut with restraint. “I’m trying so hard to be good,” he confessed against your mouth, voice breaking into a whine. “But you’re clenching so much it’s making me throb.” He rolled his hips in the smallest possible circle, grinding subtly against your front wall without pulling out. The motion drew a shared moan, the string lights casting shifting shadows across your skin.

Your clit pressed insistently against his pelvis, begging for friction. Sunoo noticed, his eyes darkening with desire while retaining that playful sparkle. “My baby needs more?” He finally let his fingers find your clit, rubbing slow, precise circles that matched the melody still humming in his throat. The dual sensation his cock buried deep and unmoving, plus the targeted touch pushed you closer to the edge.

Sunoo’s control snapped elegantly. “Okay I can’t hold back anymore.” With surprising strength, he shifted you both while staying fully sheathed, turning so you were on your back with him hovering above, still connected. The new angle let him press even deeper, his pretty face flushed and hovering close to yours. The blanket tangled around your legs, adding to the cozy mess.

He started moving slow, rolling thrusts that kept the intimacy intact, never fully withdrawing. Each stroke was graceful and rhythmic, like his dance moves translated into pleasure. “You started this surprise,” Sunoo panted softly, his voice melodic even now, “sinking onto me while I was masked up so naughty and cute.” His hips snapped a little sharper, hitting that perfect spot consistently.

One hand braced beside your head while the other continued teasing your clit. “Come for me like this,” he encouraged, eyes locked on yours with that intense yet loving gaze only. “I want to feel you pulse around my cock while it’s so deep.”

The orgasm washed over you in warm waves, your walls clamping down hard on his length. Sunoo moaned beautifully high and sweet fucking you through it with precise, passionate strokes. “Yes… ahh, just like that. You’re squeezing me so perfectly.” His own climax followed quickly, hips stuttering as he spilled deep inside you with a long, breathy whimper of your name, filling you with warmth.

Afterwards, Sunoo stayed buried inside, collapsing gently onto you with his face tucked into your neck. He pressed dozens of tiny, affectionate kisses across your skin, giggling breathlessly. “That was amazing I didn’t expect my night to end like this, but I’m so happy.” His voice was soft and satisfied, full of that signature sunshine even post-orgasm.

He rolled carefully to the side, pulling you with him so you remained spooned together, his softening cock still nestled comfortably inside your heat. The string lights twinkled above as he wrapped both arms around you, one leg hooked over yours to keep you close. “We’re sleeping just like this,” he declared cutely, nuzzling your hair. “I don’t want to pull out yet. You feel too warm and nice like my personal heater.”

Sunoo continued humming softly, his fingers drawing hearts on your arm as the afterglow wrapped around you both. He whispered sweet praises how much he loved your boldness, how perfect the connection felt, how he’d smile thinking about this during tomorrow’s schedule. The room filled with quiet contentment, his bright personality making the filthy act feel loving and special. No rush to separate, just prolonged closeness under the pretty lights, bodies joined and hearts synced.

◟✿ jungwon ˒ The dorm’s small home office nook off the main living area was quiet under the soft glow of a desk lamp. It was deep into the night, long after the other members had retreated to their rooms. Jungwon, ever the responsible leader, sat at the wooden table with his laptop open, reviewing tomorrow’s schedule and scribbling notes on a notepad. He wore a simple black hoodie and gray sweat shorts, his dark hair slightly messy from running his fingers through it in concentration. His sharp, cat like eyes scanned the screen with focused intensity, but his shoulders carried that subtle tiredness only you could notice. A half empty mug of herbal tea sat beside him, steam long gone.

You had been watching him from the doorway, admiring the way he carried the weight of the group with such quiet grace. Without speaking, you approached from behind, sliding your arms around his shoulders first. Jungwon turned his head with a soft smile, about to greet you, but you moved faster. You slipped onto his lap facing him, straddling his thighs right there at the table. Before he could set his pen down, your hand dipped into his shorts, stroking his cock from soft to fully hard in quick, practiced motions thick, veined, and curving just right.

Jungwon’s breath hitched sharply. “Y/N, what are you—” The words dissolved into a low, surprised groan as you pushed his shorts aside and sank down onto him in one steady, deliberate motion. You took him all the way in, your slick walls enveloping every inch until you were fully seated in his lap, his cock buried to the hilt inside your warm heat. No movement. Just cockwarming, right there at the desk with his laptop still glowing behind you.

His eyes widened, pupils blowing wide in the dim light. “Oh wow,” Jungwon breathed, his voice that perfect mix of youthful and commanding. His hands instinctively gripped your hips, fingers pressing into your skin through the thin fabric of your oversized tee. He sat perfectly still, processing the sudden velvet grip surrounding him. His cock twitched powerfully inside you, swelling thicker as your pussy fluttered and adjusted around his length. You could feel the subtle curve pressing firmly against your front wall, his pulse beating steadily deep within.

For a long moment, Jungwon just stared at you, cheeks flushing a soft pink that contrasted his leader aura. A small, breathless chuckle escaped him, low and slightly disbelieving. “Right here? While I’m working on schedules?” His tone held fond exasperation, but his dark eyes gleamed with instant heat. “You really chose now to warm me like this so sudden and bold.”

He leaned back slightly in the chair, careful not to dislodge you, the wooden seat creaking softly under your combined weight. The new position him seated at the table, you fully impaled on his cock with your legs wrapped around his waist made everything feel incredibly intimate and risky, the open nook adding a thrill of possible discovery. Jungwon’s hands slid under your shirt, palms warm against your bare back as he pulled you closer until your chests touched. “You’re so wet already,” he murmured, voice dropping into a husky whisper. “Sliding down on me without any warning my sneaky kitten.”

Jungwon’s response was measured yet intensely focused. He didn’t thrust or grind immediately. Instead, he held you there, savoring the deep connection while his laptop screen dimmed behind you. His fingers traced slow, soothing circles on your lower back, then lower to cup your ass, holding you flush so not even a centimeter of his cock escaped your heat. “Stay still for me,” he said softly, almost like a gentle order. “I want to feel every pulse. How you’re squeezing me so perfectly right now.”

The cockwarming stretched in charged silence. Jungwon’s discipline as leader showed in his restraint he remained almost motionless, only allowing tiny, controlled flexes of his cock inside you. Each deliberate throb made you both inhale sharply. “Feel that?” he whispered against your ear, lips brushing the shell. “That’s what you do to me. Just sitting here, warm and tight around my cock it’s driving me crazy in the best way.”

He turned his head to nuzzle your neck, pressing open-mouthed kisses along your throat while one hand slipped between your bodies to rest just above where you were joined, feeling the heat radiating there. No direct touching yet, just heightening awareness. “You’re dripping onto my shorts,” he observed quietly, a hint of teasing amusement in his voice. “All this slick just from warming me at the table?”

The desk lamp cast soft shadows across his sharp features as he continued light conversation mixed with filth, his tone calm yet increasingly strained. He occasionally glanced at the laptop screen, pretending to check a note, but his attention was entirely on the way your walls hugged him. “This schedule can wait,” he decided, closing the lid with one hand without shifting you. “You’re more important right now.”

Jungwon’s hands roamed with purpose cupping your breasts under the shirt, thumbs circling your nipples until they hardened. He rolled them gently, then a little firmer, drawing soft whimpers from you. “So responsive,” he praised, voice low and velvety. “Every time you clench, I feel it all the way up my spine. You’re going to make me lose focus completely.” Sweat began to form on his brow, his hoodie suddenly feeling too warm. He tugged it off one-handed, revealing his toned torso, then pulled you tighter against his bare chest.

The position allowed for subtle shifts. Jungwon tilted his hips minimally in the chair, changing the angle just enough to nudge a new sensitive spot inside you without breaking the cockwarming stillness. The motion made your clit grind lightly against his pelvis, sending sparks through both of you. “There,” he murmured with a small, satisfied smile. “Feel how deep I am? Filling you up so well while we sit here like nothing’s happening.”

Your breathing grew heavier, matching his. Jungwon’s cat-like eyes darkened, restraint fraying at the edges despite his composed exterior. His thighs tensed beneath you, muscles flexing as he fought the urge to move. “You’re trembling on me,” he noted, one hand stroking your thigh soothingly while the other gripped your waist. “So needy already. My strong, independent baby initiating this…it’s adorable and so hot.”

The tension built unbearably. Jungwon’s cock throbbed constantly now, leaking inside you. He captured your lips in a deep kiss, then turning hungry, tongue sliding against yours with growing desperation. When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours. “I can’t stay still much longer,” he confessed, voice rougher. “You feel too incredible. Hot, wet, wrapped around every inch of me.”

With a quiet groan, Jungwon pushed the chair back from the table. Still fully connected, he stood carefully, lifting you with surprising strength. Your legs tightened around his waist as he carried you the few steps to the nearby couch in the nook, lowering you onto it on your back without ever pulling out. The new position him hovering above you, cock buried deep allowed better leverage.

“Eyes on me,” Jungwon commanded softly, that natural leader tone sending a thrill through you. He began to move slow, deep rolls of his hips that kept him mostly sheathed, grinding rather than pounding at first. Each thrust was precise, hitting that perfect curve against your walls. The wet sounds of your connection filled the quiet space, obscene against the earlier silence of schedules.

“You surprised me tonight,” he panted, hips snapping a little harder. “Taking what you want while I was trying to be responsible such a bratty leader’s girl.” One hand braced beside your head while the other slipped between you, fingers finding your clit and rubbing firm, expert circles. His pace built steadily, powerful yet controlled, exactly like Jungwon focused entirely on your pleasure.

The orgasm hit you intensely, walls convulsing hard around his thick cock. Jungwon moaned low, burying his face in your neck as he fucked you through it, thrusts deepening. “That’s it squeeze me just like that so good for me.” His own release followed swiftly. He pushed to the hilt, hips stuttering as he came deep inside you with a quiet, guttural groan of your name, warm pulses filling you completely.

Afterwards, Jungwon stayed buried deep, collapsing carefully over you with his weight comforting. He pressed tender kisses to your face, your lips, your eyelids, his breathing gradually slowing. “You’re perfect,” he whispered, voice hoarse but full of affection. “I love when you pull me away from work like this. reminds me I need balance too.”

◟✿ niki ˒ The dim glow of Niki’s gaming setup illuminated the corner of his room. He was slouched in his ergonomic chair, long legs stretched out under the desk, wearing only black basketball shorts and an oversized hoodie. Headphones sat around his neck as he laughed into the phone call with Jake, who was away visiting family and catching up on random stories. The speaker was on, Jake’s cheerful Aussie voice filling the quiet space while Niki played with a fidget toy in his free hand.

“Yeah, hyung, the new choreography is brutal on the knees. I keep telling the choreographer we need more breaks—” Ni-ki’s words cut off mid sentence as you quietly entered and approached him from the front.

His eyes flicked up, a playful smirk already forming, assuming you were just there to bother him like usual. But you didn’t give him time to react properly. You tugged his shorts down just enough to free his cock, already half hard from the casual laziness of the late hour. A few firm strokes later, he was fully erect long, thick, and flushed. Without breaking eye contact, you straddled his lap, pulled your panties aside, and sank straight down onto him in one smooth, relentless motion.

All of him disappeared inside you in seconds, your walls stretching around his impressive length until you were flush against his pelvis, fully seated on his cock while he was still on the phone.

Niki’s entire body jerked. His free hand shot to your hip, gripping hard, knuckles whitening. A choked sound escaped him before he could stop it. “—uh, yeah, I’m still here, hyung,” he managed, voice suddenly deeper and strained. His sharp eyes locked onto yours with a mix of shock, panic, and burning heat. His cock pulsed wildly inside you, thickening even more at the unexpected, scorching grip of your pussy.

Jake’s voice continued casually on the speaker. “You okay? You sound weird.”

Niki swallowed thickly, biting the inside of his cheek. You stayed perfectly still, impaled on him, the fullness overwhelming in the most delicious way. The risk of the ongoing call made everything sharper. “Just… stubbed my toe on the desk keep going,” he lied, forcing a breathy laugh. His long fingers dug into your thigh under the desk, a silent warning and plea at the same time.

You clenched around him deliberately. Niki’s head tipped back against the chair, eyes fluttering shut for a second as he fought to stay composed. The new position him seated upright in the gaming chair, you in his lap facing him, bodies joined while Jake chatted away felt dangerously intimate. His cock throbbed rhythmically against your walls, the subtle curve pressing right into a sensitive spot that made your breath hitch quietly.

“Shit you’re evil,” he mouthed silently at you, not daring to speak it aloud. Sweat already beaded on his forehead. He tried to focus on the call, nodding along to whatever Jake was saying about food recommendations, but his free hand roamed your body under your shirt instead. Long fingers traced your ribs, then cupped your breast, thumb brushing your nipple in slow, teasing circles that matched none of the calm tone he forced into his voice.

Every tiny shift of your hips even the involuntary clenches made his jaw clench. “Yeah, that place sounds good, hyung. We should go when you’re back,” Niki replied, but his voice had dropped an octave, husky and rough around the edges. You could feel him leaking inside you, the warmth spreading as your arousal coated his length and dripped down onto his shorts.

The call dragged on. Jake kept talking, completely oblivious. Niki’s usual boundless energy was now channeled into pure restraint. He mouthed filthy things at you between responses “So fucking wet,” “You’re gonna pay for this,” and “Don’t you dare move yet.” His long legs trembled slightly under you, muscles taut from holding still. The chair creaked faintly whenever he involuntarily flexed his cock deep inside your heat.

You leaned forward, resting your head against his shoulder, lips brushing his neck. Niki’s breath stuttered audibly. “Sorry dropped something,” he quickly told Jake, covering for the noise. One of his hands slipped between your bodies, not to touch your clit, but to press lightly just above where you were stretched around him, feeling the obscene bulge of his cock inside you. The pressure made you both shudder.

Minutes felt like hours. The cockwarming was torturous in the best way no big movements, just the constant, throbbing fullness while Niki multitasked on the call. His hoodie suddenly felt too hot he tugged at the collar with his teeth, eyes half lidded and dark as he stared at you. The fairy lights you’d helped him string earlier twinkled softly, casting shifting colors across his flushed face and sharp jawline.

Finally, Jake said something about calling it a night. “Alright dude don’t stay up too late gaming.”

“Yeah… yeah, I won’t,” Niki rasped. The second the call ended, he ripped the headphones off and tossed the phone onto the desk with a clatter. Both hands gripped your ass immediately, squeezing hard.

“You absolute menace,” he growled, voice raw and no longer restrained. A wicked, breathless grin broke across his face. “Sitting on my cock the entire time I was talking to Jake? I almost moaned your name, you know that?” He rolled his hips upward in one sharp, controlled thrust, driving himself impossibly deeper. The sudden friction after so much stillness ripped a moan from both of you.

Niki didn’t flip you or move to the bed. Instead, he stayed right there in the chair, using his long legs and strong core for leverage. He guided you into a slow, grinding rhythm deep, circular rolls that kept him buried almost completely while hitting every sensitive angle. His height advantage let him lean in and bite at your collarbone, sucking marks that would be hidden by clothes tomorrow.

“Feel how deep I am?” he panted against your skin, voice playful yet wrecked. “You took all of me while I was trying to sound normal. So fucking tight and sloppy now.” One hand finally moved to your clit, rubbing fast, messy circles with those long fingers. The wet sounds of your connection were loud in the now silent room obscene and slick.

He kept the pace torturously controlled at first, savoring the way you fluttered and clenched after the long wait. “You’re shaking already,” he teased, nipping your earlobe. “Was it the risk? Knowing Jake hyung could’ve heard me lose it?” His thrusts grew sharper, more energetic, hips snapping up to meet you each time you sank down. The chair rolled slightly on the floor from the force.

The buildup was intense and different no soft kisses or long praise sessions like the others. Just raw, teasing energy mixed with pure need. Niki’s stamina showed as he fucked up into you relentlessly while keeping you anchored in his lap.

“Come on,” he urged, voice dropping into that deep timbre. “Let me feel you come while I’m still so full inside you. Right here where I was talking to hyung five minutes ago.”

Your orgasm crashed hard, walls spasming violently around his thick length. Niki cursed loudly thrusting through it with powerful strokes, drawing out every wave. His own release hit seconds later he buried himself to the hilt, long body shuddering as he came deep inside you, hot pulses filling you while he groaned your name against your neck.

Afterwards, Niki didn’t pull out. He slumped back in the chair, arms wrapped loosely around you, still buried deep. His chest heaved as he caught his breath, a lazy, satisfied smirk on his lips. “That was insane best worst idea ever.” He pressed a surprisingly soft kiss to your temple, then another to your lips lingering and warm.

upon arrival, it takes exactly 3 minutes for everything to fall apart,

the moment you all step into the space with the two big bungalows, woojin stops dead in his tracks,

“this one,” he announces, pointing dramatically to the one on the left,

his girlfriend doesn’t even question it, she just nods approvingly, “okay,”

“wait-“ you start,

“idc who joins,” woojin continues, already walking toward his chosen spot, “we’re taking this one,”

“you can’t just-” ohyul begins, but he’s immediately cut off,

louis and ryul, without a single word of discussion, grab their bags and head straight into the other bungalow,

like it’s the most obvious decision in the world,

no hesitation or looking back, let alone a single word,

you blink, and next to you, your bf does the exact same..

there’s a pause,

“..are they serious?” ohyul asks slowly,

you peek into the second bungalow,

louis is already flopping onto one of the beds, shoes still on,

ryul calls out, “this one’s good!”

ohyul’s eye twitches in absolute disbelief,

“no,” he says, “no, no, no-“

you can see it happening, the exact moment he realizes what’s actually happening,

two bungalows. three beds each.

woojin + girlfriend = one bed,

louis and ryul,

which leaves..

one bed, in each bungalow, separate,

ohyul turns to you very slowly, “we are not sleeping separately,”

you press your lips together, trying not to laugh, “ohyul,”

“no,” he repeats, “absolutely not, i refuse,”

he drops the bags he’s holding like they’ve personally betrayed him instead of his friends, “i’m literally dragging ryul out by his hair,”

“ohyul!”

he’s already marching toward the bungalow, sleeves pulled up like he’s about to start a war, which he actually would if he could,

you grab his wrist before he gets far, “hey,” you can’t help but laugh, “relax-“

“relax?” he turns to you, offended, “they stole our bed situation!”

“there was no assigned bed situation,” you say, trying to stay reasonable,

“there should have been,”

you laugh again, tugging him back, “it’s fine, they just didn’t think about it,”

“i thought about it,” he mutters,

“i know you did baby,”

he crosses his arms, sulking now, we’re talking full pout and eyebrows furrowed like the whole world has wronged him,

“we sleep together every day,” you say softly, nudging his side, “it’s just one night,”

“two nights,” he corrects immediately,

“still,”

“still no,”

you step closer, poking his cheek, “don’t be dramatic,”

“i’m not being dramatic,” he insists, even though he absolutely is, “this is a valid emotional response,”

“to sleeping in a different bed for once?”

“yes,”

you snort,

he leans down slightly, lowering his voice just for you to hear, “i don’t sleep well without you,”

and yeah, okay, that one hits a little,

you soften, brushing your fingers against his arm, “you’ll survive,”

“i actually might not,”

you smile, reaching up to fix his hair a little, “we’ll just hang out until late anyway, you’ll pass out as soon as you touch your bed,”

he stares at you for a second longer, clearly still unhappy,

“i’m still mad at them,” he mutters,

“i know,”

“especially ryul,”

“i know,”

there’s another pause,

“..fine,” he sighs dramatically, “but this isn’t the last you’ll hear from me,”

“i expect nothing less,”

a little later it’s time for food,

and dinner is.. loud,

the six of you are crowded around the small terrace of woojin’s bungalow, the grill sizzling while louis pretends he knows what he’s doing,

“that’s not cooked,” ryul says, poking at a piece of meat,

“it’s medium rare,” louis argues,

“it’s medium alive,”

woojin is too busy eating to care, his girlfriend is next to him, stealing food straight off his plate while he complains but doesn’t actually stop her,

you’re sitting beside ohyul, who has been in a mood to say the least,

“so,” he says casually, way too casually, “must be nice, stealing beds,”

ryul looks up, unimpressed, “we didn’t steal anything,”

“you occupied without discussion,”

“you were gone,” louis shoots back,

“for five minutes!”

“that’s enough time,” ryul says, “you snooze, you lose bro,”

ohyul stares at him, “you’re dead to me,”

you nudge him under the table, “ohyul,”

he ignores you, “i hope your bed is uncomfortable,”

“it’s actually really nice,” louis says, stretching, “super soft,”

ohyul scoffs, “fake softness, bad for your back,”

“you haven’t even tried it,”

“i don’t need to, i can tell,”

ryul smirks, “you’re just mad,”

“i’m not mad,”

you raise an eyebrow at him,

“i’m annoyed,” he corrects,

woojin’s girlfriend laughs, “you’re such a baby,”

“i’m not a baby,” ohyul shoots back immediately,

you lightly smack his arm, “stop picking fights,”

he looks at you, eyes wide with betrayal, “you’re on their side?”

“i’m on the side of peace and food,” you say, grabbing a piece of grilled meat,

“wow,” he mutters, “even my own girlfriend,”

but a second later, he’s quietly placing a better cooked piece onto your plate, without saying anything,

and you smirk to yourself, hiding your smile

after dinner, it’s time for the unmissable campfire,

because let’s be real, a camping trip without a campfire doesn’t count at all,

compared to dinner, the campfire is calmer,

the sky is dark, the fire crackling in front of you as everyone lounges around in a loose circle, drinks in hand, snacks scattered around,

marshmallows are being passed around,

louis even pulls out some cheese he took from the store earlier, “for later purposes,” he said, and you guess that’s right now,

you’re barely seated for two seconds before ohyul shifts closer,

then closer, and closer,

until his arm is fully wrapped around you, pulling you into his side like he’s claiming you,

you laugh softly, “ohyul-“

“what?”

“you’re squishing me,”

“good,”

you try to lean forward to grab your drink and he immediately tightens his hold,

“where are you going?”

“i’m getting my drink?”

“stay,” he says, pulling you back against him,

“ohyul,”

“i’ll get it for you,”

“i can get it myself,”

“no,”

you turn your head to look at him, your eyes look serious but the smile on your lips definitely gives you away, “you’re being clingy,”

“i’m always clingy,”

“this is extra,”

he rests his chin on your shoulder, voice dropping into a soft whine, “i don’t like this arrangement,”

you smile a little, “i noticed,”

“i want to sleep next to you,”

“i know,”

“what if i can’t fall asleep?”

“you will,”

“what if i don’t?”

“then you’ll try again,”

“you don’t get it,” he says seriously,

you laugh, leaning back into him properly this time, “you’re overreacting,”

“i’m not,”

he scoffs offended, but then just hugs you tighter,

a few minutes later, you shift again, trying to stand up again, and he immediately pulls you back down,

“ohyul,”

“no,”

“i just want another drink,”

“i’ll go,”

“you said that last time,”

“and i meant it this time,”

you sigh, shifting again but giving up soon enough,

and your boyfriend grins like he’s won something, his grip on you only tightening,

across the fire, ryul watches the whole thing with a very amused expression on his face, “you’re not surviving tonight,”

ohyul doesn’t even look at him, “i hate you,”

“yeah, yeah,” ryul laughs, knowing his friend a little too well,

the fire is nice and warm

the soft sound of the flames, with everyone talking over each other, laughing and joking about whatever, sends a calm and gentle feeling to your body,

until..

a breeze cuts through and makes you shiver by the sudden cold,

you pull your arms in closer, “okay, nope,”

ohyul immediately looks down at you, “what?”

“i’m cold,”

“come here,” he says, already dragging you closer like that solves everything,

and yeah, it helps, a little,

.. for about ten seconds,

another gust hits and you physically flinch, your arms shivering, “no, i need an actual sweatshirt,”

“you’re fine,” he mumbles into your hair,

“ohyul,”

“stay,”

“ohyul,”

he groans quietly, tightening his hold, “don’t leave me,”

you laugh, shifting in his hold, “i’m not leaving you, i’m going to get a sweatshirt,”

“same thing,”

you try to get his arm off but he does not budge a single bit,

“ohyul, i’m cold,”

“i’m warm,”

“you’re not a blanket,”

“i can be,”

you push at his arm again, “let me go,”

“no,”

“ohyul,”

he sighs dramatically like this is the hardest decision of his life, then finally loosens his grip, just barely tho,

“20 seconds,” he says, “if you’re not back in 20 seconds, i’m coming to get you,”

you snort, nudging his shoulder, “you’re weird,”

“i’m serious,”

“okay,” you say, already standing, “count if you want,”

“i will,”

“you won’t,”

“i will,”

you walk off before he can say anything else, shaking your head with a smile,

and yuppp,

you don’t even make it fully inside the bungalow before you hear the door creak again behind you,

you don’t turn around, because you don’t have to to know who it is, “that was not 20 seconds,”

“it felt like 20 seconds,” ohyul says, closing the door like he’s at home there,

you glance over your shoulder, “you’re literally so dramatic,”

“you left me,”

“ohyul, i walked 10 meters,”

“i was alone,”

“with 5 other people sitting right there,”

“doesn’t count,”

you laugh under your breath, digging through your bag for a sweatshirt, “you’re unbelievable,”

before you can even pull it on, he’s already behind you again,

his arms wrapping around your waist, chin dropping onto your shoulder like he physically cannot exist more than half a meter away from you,

“you feel cold,” he murmurs,

“no shit,”

“should’ve stayed,”

“ohyul-“

he presses closer, hands sliding just slightly under the hem of your shirt, warm against your skin,

not too much but just enough to make you pause for a second,

“what’s up with you today,” you chuckle,

“you had your period all week,” he mutters, voice low and a little sulky, “and now you’re finally blood free and i don’t even get to sleep next to you,”

you huff a quiet laugh, shaking your head, “that’s your complaint right now?”

“yes i haven’t had you in so long,”

“it was only a week,”

“exactly my point,”

you turn a little in his hold, looking at him, “we would’ve had to share with one of them anyway, nothing would’ve happened,”

he shrugs slightly, but his hands don’t move away, “i don’t care,”

“ohyul-“

“at least i could’ve been next to you,” he says, softer now, “that’s enough,”

you tilt your head, “just sleeping?”

he gives you a look,

“..sleeping?” you repeat, very pointedly to get your point across,

he hums, unconvinced, “there’s more ways for me to feel you,”

you can’t help but laugh a little, “you’ve survived longer,”

“10 days, and i wasn’t planning on setting a new record,”

“you counted?” you laugh,

“yes, a suffering man does crazy things,”

your eyebrows lift slightly, but you can only chuckle at your boyfriend’s face,

his thumb brushes absentmindedly against your side, “i just like having you there,”

you smile a little, “you’re so needy,”

“only for you,”

you roll your eyes, but your hand comes up to rest over his anyway, “you’ll survive one night,”

“i don’t want to survive, i want to thrive,”

you only sigh softly, holding back a smile,

he presses his face into your neck for a second, mumbling something you don’t quite catch, but his arms tighten like he’s trying to memorize you or something equally ridiculous,

you gently nudge him back, “okay, let me actually put this on before i freeze,”

he sighs but lets go, barely tho, but just enough for you to pull the sweatshirt over your head,

the second you’re done, he’s back like a magnet,

you shake your head, smiling, “you’re actually impossible,”

“and yet,” he says, pulling you in again, “you love me,”

he kisses your cheek,

probably a good 6 times, before he finally lets go completely,

letting you drag him out of the bungalow,

“yooo noona!!”

you barely step back into the firelight before louis pops up in front of you, way too energetic for someone who just ate like 10 marshmallows,

you blink at him, “hi lou,”

“come on,” he says, already grabbing your wrist lightly. “we gotta explore,”

“explore?”

yeah,” he nods, grinning, “i saw a playground earlier,”

“a playground?” you giggle,

“yeah,” he repeats, like this is the most exciting discovery of the century, “with swings and everything bro,”

you laugh, “you’re fr?”

“dead serious, cmon time for adventure,”

ohyul’s arm tightens around you immediately, “no,”

you don’t even look at him yet, “why not,”

“answer is no,” he says flatly,

louis rolls his eyes, “hyung, relax,”

“get your own girlfriend,”

“i’m borrowing her,” louis shoots back without missing a beat,

“you’re not borrowing anything,”

“she’s not yours,” louis pushes, a little mischievous smile on his face,

“she actually is so you better-“

you smack ohyul’s arm lightly, “ohyul-“

“it’s dark,” he argues,

“there are lights everywhere,”

“still dark?!”

louis leans closer to you, lowering his voice like he’s sharing a secret, “he’s scared,”

ohyul glares at him, “i’m not scared,”

“of being alone,” louis finishes, grinning, way too amused,

you snort softly and ohyul looks offended,

“wow? okay?”

“ohyul,” you say, turning to him, “i’m just going to look at a playground,”

“why?”

you shrug, “because it’s there?”

louis nods eagerly, “exactly! it’s a must,”

ohyul stares at both of you like you’ve lost your minds,

“i’ll be right back,” you say, patting his chest like that would calm him down,

he catches your hand before you can pull away, “no funny business,”

“…with louis?? ..at a playground?”

“you never know who’s out there,”

you laugh, leaning up to press a quick kiss to his cheek, “who knows, maybe i’ll get kidnapped!”

“yn i’m being-“

“hyung i’ll protect her don’t worry,”

“no because that should be comforting?” ohyul scoffs, “bro you run off screaming before you even know what’s going on,”

you laugh again, pushing him away now, “don’t start a fight while i’m gone,”

“no promises,” he mutters again,

louis is already pulling you away, “bye hyung, don’t cry,”

“you better sleep with your eyes open tonight,”

the campsite feels different away from the fire,

a lot quieter, the vibe softer, with little lights lining the paths,

louis walks next to you, hands in his hoodie pocket, kicking at small rocks,

“this place is kinda cool,” he says,

“you mean the playground?” you tease,

“don’t act like you’re not excited,”

“a little,” you chuckle,

“exactly,” he grins,

you walk a bit further before he bumps his shoulder into yours lightly,

“also,” he adds, “i’m sorry,”

you glance at him, “for what?”

“the bed thing,” he says, “we kinda just took over,”

you wave it off, “don’t worry, it’s fine,”

“nah, but still,” he shrugs, “i didn’t think about it,”

“it’s okay,” you reassure him again,

“i can switch, though,” he adds, like it’s no big deal, “with ohyul hyung,”

you giggle, “louis-“

“i don’t mind,” he continues, “you can take my bed,”

“what about you?”

he shrugs again, “i’ll just crash in woojin’s tent, or squeeze in with ryul hyung, i was gonna sleep next to him anyway,”

you raise an eyebrow, “oh?”

“yeah,” he scratches the back of his neck, a little embarrassed, “it gets kinda scary at night, you know? ryul hyung feels safe,”

you soften immediately, “that’s actually kind of cute,”

“don’t tell him i said that,” louis immediately says,

“too late,”

“yoo-“

you grin, “i’m joking,”

there’s a small pause before you shake your head, “but no, you’re not switching,”

“why not?”

“because it’s fine,” you say, nudging his arm lightly, “ohyul’s just being dramatic,”

“that’s true,” louis snorts,

“he’ll live,”

“are you sure?”

“unfortunately, yes,”

louis grins a little at that, shoulders relaxing, “okay,”

you walk a little further in comfortable silence before he glances at you for a second, then looks ahead again, tone a little softer, but still very him,

“he really likes you tho,”

you smile without thinking, “i know,”

“like.. a lot,” he adds, “it’s kinda crazy,”

“is it?”

“yeah,” he nods, “i’ve never seen him like this,”

you hum quietly, looking down at the path for a second, but smiling to yourself, “me neither,”

louis nudges you with his shoulder again, “don’t break his heart bro,”

you gasp lightly, “wow?”

“i’m serious,”

“what about him breaking mine?”

he thinks about it for a second, “..nah he wouldn’t,” he says simply, “he’s too gone,”

you shake your head, smiling,

a little up ahead, you can already see the small playground he was talking about,

it’s empty, slightly lit, and the swings are moving just a little in the breeze,

louis squeaks excitedly, pointing, “see? definitely worth it,”

“…okay, yeah,” you admit, “this is kinda cute,”

“told you,”

back near the fire, you can faintly see ohyul’s figure pacing again, very obviously pretending he’s not watching the path,

louis follows your gaze and grins, “he’s actually losing it,”

“he is,”

“we should stay a little longer to teach him a lesson,”

“what lesson?” you laugh,

“separation,” he grins, “he has serious issues,”

you laugh as both of you sit down on a swing, letting the moment linger a little longer before eventually heading back to your spot on the campsite

at aome point, the fire dies down slowly, conversations getting quieter, everyone around you stretching and yawning,

you lean back slightly, sighing softly, “i’m gonna get ready for bed,”

ohyul’s head snaps toward you immediately, “already?”

“it’s late,” you say, standing up and brushing your hands off, “and i’m tired,”

“i’ll come,” he says instantly,

you give him a look, “to.. watch me brush my teeth?”

“support,” he corrects,

“right,” you snicker,

you grab your things, a towel, a hoodie, your little bag with toiletries, and start heading toward the shower area,

you don’t even have to check to know he’s following,

the shower rooms are surprisingly nice,

bright, clean, and way bigger than expected,

“this is better than my bathroom,” you mutter, setting your stuff down,

“this looks good,” ohyul agrees, already closing the door behind him,

you glance at him through the mirror as you pull your toothbrush out,

he just stands there, watching you,

you start brushing your teeth, leaning slightly over the sink, and not even two seconds later, he’s behind you,

of course,

his arms slide around your waist like it’s muscle memory, pulling you back against him,

you make a muffled sound, toothbrush still in your mouth, “ohyul-“

“what?” he mumbles, pressing his face into your shoulder,

his hands settle at your sides, warm and familiar, and then slowly, too casually, start wandering,

you pause, meeting his eyes in the mirror,

he just looks back at you, completely unashamed,

you shake your head, trying not to smile around your toothbrush,

he hums softly, pressing a lazy kiss against the side of your neck, “i missed you,”

“you’ve been glued to me all night,”

“not enough,”

you spit, rinse your mouth, then turn slightly in his arms, “you’re clingier than usual,”

“because i’m being neglected,”

you snort, “neglected?”

“yes,”

his hands tighten slightly at your waist, pulling you closer again like he’s making a point,

you poke his chest lightly, “behave,”

“no,”

you roll your eyes, but you’re smiling as you free yourself from his hold, stepping back toward the showers,

you pull your hoodie off,

and he watches you for half a second before stepping closer again like it’s automatic,

you glance at him, “you’re not subtle,”

“wasn’t trying to be,”

you giggle, rolling your eyes at him

he lets eyes drag over your full body as your clothes drop to the floor,

“you’re staring,”

“i know,”

you laugh, but there’s no real resistance as you reach for his hand, pulling him towards the shower,

his eyebrows lift slightly, “you’re serious?”

“do you rather stand here then?”

“i absolutely do not want to stand here,” he says immediately, pulling his shirt over his face faster than ever,

you huff out a soft laugh, stepping into the shower space,

he pauses for half a second, glancing around like he just remembered something, “aren’t there cameras here?”

you blink at him,

“in a shower room?” you deadpan,

he shrugs, “what? you never know,”

you stare at him for a second, then shake your head,

“i’m just cautious,” he adds,

“mhm,”

the water turns on, and it’s almost instantly warm, steam starting to fill the space soon after,

you step under it first, letting out a quiet sigh at the heat after a whole day outside,

and a second later, he’s right behind you again,

“well,” he murmurs, voice lower now, closer to your ear, “it’s definitely not soundproof,”

you turn your head slightly, “ohyul-“

“so,” he continues, stepping in closer, hands finding your waist again, “you better keep it quiet,”

your breath hitches just a little, not dramatic, but definitely enough for him to notice,

“and you better behave,” you mutter,

“but you like it,”

before you can respond, he leans in, not wasting any time now he finally got ylu to himself,

his lips were on yours within seconds, kissing you properly for the first time since all the chaos started,

the warm water keeps running over both of you, steam fogging up the glass, everything else fading out for a second,

his hands stay at your waist at first, a little grounding, but there’s an impatience there too, like he’s been waiting all night for this exact moment,

you lean into him without thinking, fingers pressing into his chest,

he hums softly against your lips, pulling you a little closer, like he’s making up for lost time,

he kisses you softly,

like he somehow always does with him when he’s been waiting too long,

it’s warm, yet a little desperate, but it doesn’t stay like that for long,

because it’s ohyul,

and he’s been deprived for, in his words, “an unacceptable amount of time,”

you feel it in the way he leans in more, deepening it just slightly, like he’s testing how far you’ll let him go,

and for a little while, you let him guide you,

you let him pull you into whatever high he was in right now,

his hands start wandering a little more daring now, pushing you flush against his chest, letting the warmth of the room settle in between the two of you completely,

you sigh into the kiss, your hands coming up to grab a fistful of his hair, which he gladly returns,

you have no idea how much time has passed, but after a while, you pull back just enough to breathe, “ohyul..”

“what,” he murmurs immediately, chasing your lips again,

you turn your head slightly, his lips brushing your cheek instead, “i need to wash my hair,”

he groans, “are you gonna leave me hanging now,”

“we can’t do it here,” you chuckle, letting your hands move down over his chest,

he exhales softly, like you just told him something deeply unfair, “why not,”

“you literally said it’s not soundproof,”

he pauses for half a second, “okay,” he says, like that’s a minor detail,

you stare at him, “okay?”

“then keep quiet?”

you let out a small laugh, shaking your head, “you can stay, but i’m washing my hair,”

“i’m serious,” he insists, leaning in again, slower this time, like he’s trying to convince you instead of just taking,

you let him kiss you once more, just once, before placing your hand on his chest, stopping him,

“no,”

he groans quietly, forehead dropping against yours, “cmon..”

you chuckle softly,

“just a little-“

you push him back lightly, smiling, “you’ll survive without,”

“you keep saying that,” he mutters,

“because it’s true,”

you turn away before he can try again, reaching for your things like nothing happened,

he just stands there for a second, staring at you, very clearly not over it,

“…you’re evil,” he says finally,

you glance over your shoulder, “like you’re not,”

“you’re making up for this,”

by the time you’re both back near the bungalows, the whole place feels quieter,

all the lights dimmed, all the doors closing, everyone slowly heading to bed,

you yawn softly, “i’m actually exhausted,”

“don’t,” ohyul says immediately,

you blink at him, “don’t what,”

“don’t go yet,”

he grabs your wrist, gently but insistently, pulling you back toward him before you can disappear into your bungalow,

“one minute,”

“you said that earlier,”

“this time i mean it,”

you laugh softly, but you don’t pull away tho,

and that’s a big mistake,

because the second you stop moving, he’s pulling you in

..and kissing you again

not soft this time, nor anywhere close to patient,

it’s firm and a little messy, like he’s genuinely been holding back all night and finally doesn’t care who sees for a second,

you make a quiet surprised sound, hands instinctively coming up to steady yourself against him,

“ohyul-“

he doesn’t answer, just kisses you again, slower but somehow worse, like he’s trying to make up for every second he’s about to lose,

his hand slides to your waist, pulling you closer, like he’s refusing the idea of separation entirely,

and for a second, you forget where you are,

letting him pull you into it once again,

until-

“yoo,”

you both freeze at the sound of ryul’s voice, somewhere nearby,

you pull back, both your breathing uneven,

and ohyul closes his eyes for a second like he’s in pain, which he genuinely feels like at this point,

“i hate everyone,” he mutters under his breath,

you laugh quietly, fixing his hair a little, “you should get some sleep,”

“no,”

you raise your eyebrows at him,

and he just sighs, leaning his forehead against yours one last time, “i’m not done with you,”

“i’ll see you tomorrow,”

“that’s too far away,”

you smile, stepping back, “goodnight,”

he watches you go, stepping into your bungalow.. which he isn’t sleeping in..

inside the bungalow is quiet,

it doesn’t take long before louis and ryul are asleep, soft breathing filling the space, one of them half hanging off the bed like always,

you’re laying in your own bed, the blanket pulled all the way up, staring at the ceiling for a bit,

it’s peaceful,

the quiet sounds of the trees breezing through the air as your free asmr,

not even 10 minutes later, your phone buzzes, and you don’t even have to check to know who it is,

ohyul: are they asleep?

you glance over, quietly laughing at the sight in front of you,

louis? dead asleep and ryul? unmoving,

you: yupp

three dots appear instantly but then disappear just as quickly, leaving your message on read,

it doesn’t take long before you hear the door creak open,

you press your lips together, already smiling as you sit up slightly,

“you’re so predictable,” you whisper,

ohyul doesn’t answer,

he just closes the door quietly behind him, steps over like he’s done this a hundred times, stopping next to your bed, nudging your leg,

“move,”

you scoot over, shaking your head, and he immediately slides into the bed next to you,

which is very much meant for one person btw, but that does not stop him, not even a little,

the second he’s in, his arms wrap around you, pulling you into him like that’s where you’re supposed to be, instead of in separate bungalows,

“great idea,” he mutters against your shoulder, “really, loved it,”

you laugh softly, “you lasted, what, 5 minutes?”

“i’m definitely not sleeping in another bed while you’re in here,”

his face presses into your neck, breathing you in like he’s been deprived for years instead of minutes,

you relax into him for a second before whispering, “louis is in here,”

he goes still, just for a second,

then he sighs out, long and over exaggeratedly suffering, “..i know,”

you can practically feel the disappointment radiating off him,

“so behave,” you add quietly,

“i hate this,”

“you’ll survive,”

“you need to stop saying that,”

you smile a little,

but then his hand shifts slightly at your waist, then a little more,

you catch his wrist immediately, “ohyul,”

“what,” he whispers, completely innocent,

you give him a look in the dark, “don’t,”

he exhales softly, forehead dropping against your shoulder again, “we do things at the dorm when he’s in his room,”

“he’s literally right there,” you whisper back,”

“..he’s asleep,”

“ohyul,”

he goes quiet for a second,

then, softer, almost a pout you can hear, “you’re so strict today,”

“we’re on a trip with your friends,”

his fingers twitch slightly like he’s debating whether to behave or not,

but as expected, he loses his inner debate, again,

you grab his hand this time, holding it still against you, “stop,” you giggle,

he lets out the quietest groan, “you’re killing me,”

“go to sleep,”

“i just got here,”

you soften a little at that, your grip loosening just slightly, but not enough,

he takes advantage anyway, shifting closer, pressing a soft, lingering kiss against your neck,

you inhale sharply, “ohyul,”

“i’m being quiet,” he whispers,

“…you’re not helping,”

he smiles against your skin, you can feel it, but he completely settles next to you now,

his arms are wrapped tight around you, face tucked into your neck, like if he holds on hard enough, no one can separate you again,

“i’m still mad at them tho,” he mumbles,

you laugh quietly, “i know,”

“…especially ryul,”

“i know,”

“and the second we’re home you’re mine,”

you chuckle quietly, “mhm,”

he squeezes you once more, finally going still,

but his hand?

still very much not behaving,

you exhale quietly through your nose, tightening your hold on his wrist again, “ohyul..”

“i’m not doing anything,” he whisper yells immediately,

you give him a look, even though it’s dark, he feels it,

“barely anything,” he amends under his breath,

you shake your head, but there’s no real bite to it anymore, your fingers still loosely wrapped around his wrist, keeping him in place more than pushing him away,

his thumb traces the smallest and softest line before stopping when you tighten your grip again,

“you’re no fun,” he murmurs.

you huff a quiet laugh, shifting just slightly so you’re more comfortable in his arms,

which is yet again, a big mistake,

because he immediately takes that as an invitation, pulling you closer again, pressing his face deeper into your neck,

“don’t move,” he mumbles,

“i’m literally just breathing,”

“you’re moving too much,”

there’s a small pause, a peaceful pause if anything,

but then..

his lips brush your neck again, a lot slower this time, softer and testing,

you inhale quietly, “ohyul-“

“i’m being quiet,” he whispers, voice way too pleased with himself,

“you’re so annoying,”

“so are you,”

you don’t answer that one, but you don’t push him away either,

and he hums softly, clearly taking that as a win, arms tightening just a little around you, settling in properly now,

he’s definitely still restless and still not entirely behaving, but at least he’s quieter now,

content, even,

“this is still unfair,” he mumbles after a second,

“mhm,”

“but at least i can hold you,”

your grip on his wrist loosens just a little at that and he notices,

he presses a little kiss pressed against your shoulder, his fingers shifting again, just enough to remind you he hasn’t actually given up,

and you sigh softly, already knowing it’s going to be a long night,

for him, for sure

and honestly?

for you too,

but even like this,

half restrained, whispering complaints into your neck, arms wrapped tight around you like you’re gonna run away,

he’s exactly where he wants to be..

more preferably, he would’ve liked his own bungalow of course,

but oh well,

like you said; “he’ll survive”

even though he himself is not quite sure how..

mlist ツ

“I’m so excited for this weekend, you have no idea!” You exclaimed, turning Jay’s attention back to you.

He smiled down at you, already re-organizing the trunk so it could fit your stuff and the girls’. For some reason, you were feeling a little bit shy around him. You guys had talked for hours last night, to the point where you both fell asleep on video call and woke up on video call. You were one hundred percent sure Jay saw you as a lunatic from all the snoring and talking you probably did during your sleep.

You felt like a little girl, felt smaller and suddenly too self-aware of what and how you were feeling in the moment. You were falling for Jay, everyone could notice that from afar, and if the man himself had not noticed by now, then you were sure he was blind or just acting stupid so he wouldn't make you uncomfortable. Just regular Jay stuff. You almost felt like he was too good for you, even if you didn’t do anything bad, he was just perfect. 

“Hey, are you okay?”

He snapped you out of your thoughts—of course those thoughts didn’t really go away since they were quite literally in front of you.

You showed him a shy smile and nodded, about to say something absurd until you were unfortunately interrupted by a loud voice, a voice that everyone was familiar with, “Graduation trip!” Yelled Beomgyu as he hopped out of Chenle’s cramped car.

You would think that a boy that came from a rich family, would own a very nice and elegant car, but Chenle? He drove the slowest and most uncomfortable car just so he wouldn't be his friend’s uber. You thought it was a smart thing to do if you were being honest.

“Graduation trip!” Both Yunjin and you ran towards Beomgyu and crashed into a hug, grabbing Chenle on the way. Like the kids you were, you started jumping in circles, earning a confused look from the others.

Jake turned to Sunghoon with a frown, “I kind of want to join..”

Chaewon snorted a laugh, “What’s stopping you, babe?” Both Sunghoon and Jake’s smile dropped, making her smile.

“We would be there already if it weren't for you, by the way!” Heeseung said, stepping out of the car and instantly throwing his stuff on the trunk of Jake’s car.

The group separated, making Jake frown ever more. “Aww, man.”

You made your way back to Jay, sending him a smile on the way. “So, seating arrangements?” You asked, turning to the others.

If you were being completely honest, you deeply wanted to sit next to Jay just because. Unfortunately, you had a chat with Sunghoon prior where you discussed who would be seating where, and you were not lucky.

“I call the seat behind Jay!” Sunghoon raised his hand almost immediately after your question, making you snap your head at him.

“Didn’t you say you wanted the front seat?” He shook his head, winking at you. You looked at him up and down and turned back to Jay, who happened to be looking away. “Okay.” You mumbled to yourself, hiding a smile within your lips.

Once you arrived at the beach house, everyone jumped out of two cars and stretched, legs basically flying everywhere. Simultaneously, you and Jay raised your arms in the air, catching each other’s gaze when a yawn escaped you both, making you let out a laugh. You quickly covered your mouth, shyly looking away as you shut the door close and turned to your best friends.

“Graduation trip!” Beomgyu exclaimed, grabbing you by the shoulders to shake you violently.

You giggled in between shakes but then Jay quickly interrupted you both by putting a hand on Beomgyu to stop him. “Okay, let’s stop before you give Y/n a headache.”

The boy frowned dramatically, letting go of you. Before you could say anything else, a voice cut through, “holy shit, this house’s big as fuck.” 

Sunghoon gaped in surprise then turned to you. “I didn’t know you were rich.”

“Dude.” Jay calmly called.

You snorted, shaking your head. “My grandfather’s business, like I said. It's a family house, literally everyone uses it.” You explained.

“Ahh,” Jake cut in awe. “That’s cool as shit.” He mumbled next to Sunghoon, “They’re going to be the rich couple.” He lowered his voice so only he could hear.

“Pft, they wish.” Chenle snorted behind them, making both of them jump, as he placed his hands on his waist as he looked over to the beach house. “L/N’s beach house, a precious and house with legendary stories—“

You cut your friend off by slapping the back of his neck, making everyone gasp and cover their mouths.

“Yah!” Chenle pretended to hit you.

You ignored him then turned to everyone with a smile, joining your hands together in a clap. “Everyone, before we unpack, I’ll be giving you a grand tour around the house, please take your shoes off and leave them right there,” you pointed at the step next to the doorstep.

The rest followed your steps, and as they took their shoes off, you opened the door for them and waited until everyone was in—but then he stopped you, placing his arm above you on the door to let you walk in before him. You smiled at Jay, then walked inside with the others.

You showed them the living room, kitchen, backyard, and then headed to where the bedrooms were. You, Yunjin, and Chaewon instantly called the biggest room as soon as it was in sight, causing Jake and Beomgyu to whine, then deciding to room together in the bedroom next to yours, Heeseung and Chenle taking the one next to them, then Sunghoon and Jay chose the room across yours. 

“How many rooms are there?” Jake asked as he peeked out of the room he was staying in. “It’s like the backrooms in here.” He joked.

You chuckled. “That room is the cousins room, there’s a bunch of bunk beds because we all used to sleep there when we were younger.” You explained. He let out an “ah” then went back into the room.

“You can take the bedroom in front of you though,” you called out, making everyone peep out of their bedrooms. “We watch movies in that bedroom…maybe we can all sleep there one night.” You suggested.

All of a sudden, Sunghoon stepped out of his bedroom and gave you a tight hug, making you freeze and look around. You caught Jay’s eyes and furrowed your eyebrows in confusion, from his stare and the situation you were in.

“I’m so glad we became friends.” Sunghoon sighed before pulling away.

You scoffed a laugh, looking at him as you pat his head repeatedly. “And you call me weird.”

He rolled his eyes before walking back to Jay and smiled, patting his chest. “All yours, bro.”

“Do you guys want to see the game room?”

“There’s a game room!?” Everyone shouted.

“Finally!” Heeseung exclaimed, throwing his arms in the air. “I was about to give the tour myself.” He grunted, stepping out of his room lazily, rushing down the stairs.

Everyone quickly followed him, leaving Jay and you behind. “Heeseung’s been here before?” He asked, a hint of jealousy—that you weren’t able to notice—in his tone.

“Our families are really close.” You explained casually.

“Mhm..” he hummed, stepping out of the way so you could walk down before him.

As the door to the basement slides opened, Jake and Sunghoon immediately gasped, “there’s a pool table!”

Obviously given by the reactions, the two guys quickly started playing pool, pushing each other out of the way which made you laugh as you sat on the couch with Heeseung and Chenle, who had already turned the TV on to play League of Legends. From all the years you’ve gone to the beach house, this was probably the first time you noticed the TV had League of Legends installed. “Since when do we have that game?” You asked Heeseung.

He glanced at you then went back to the TV. “I installed it a few years ago.” He mumbled.

Across from you, on the couch, Jay bit his bottom lip, feeling a sudden rush of something—he didn’t know what, but it was definitely something. So instead of making conversation, you both stared at the TV whilst the others were fighting or whatever they were doing at the pool table.

“You’re so bad at this.” Heeseung threw an insult at Chenle, who then bit back by throwing a pillow at him. You laughed at the action, glancing at Jay, who was already staring at you. You smiled at him, making him smile back, biting the inside of his cheek, for some reason, nervously.

After a few minutes of playing and watching whatever the guys were doing, Jay, shyly so, grabbed his phone and sent you a text.

JayYAY😊: don’t want to ruin the moment but I'm pretty sure someone is about to get hangry..

At the vibration of your phone, you pulled it out and smiled, biting your lip to stop yourself from laughing, already knowing he was referring to Heeseung. 

So the next second, you stood up and clapped. “Who wants to go to the local grocery shop with me to buy groceries and snacks? Raise your hand if it’s a yes.” Heeseung instantly held his arm up, murmuring something about being hungry. Yunjin pointed at him, fully agreeing whilst the others simply ignored your question and kept playing. 

You gave them—basically the air—a thumbs up as you grabbed both Yunjin and Heeseung, and dragged them up the stairs. Silently, Jay followed behind with the keys already in the palm of his hands.

You walked casually to the front seat as the others went back, Heeseung hopping on the back with Yunjin. You looked back at them, slapping Heeseung’s phone off his hands, “put your seatbelt first.”

Heeseung rolled his eyes but did as you said, making Jay subconsciously smile, “you sound like a mom.” He commented teasingly, turning the engine on.

“These two never put on their seatbelt, I swear to god.” And as you put your seat belt on, Jay started to drive away, handing you his phone for you to put music.

Behind you two, Yunjin and Heeseung giggled to themselves like little kids, clearly enjoying whatever you two were having.

The group decided to go to the beach that same night, an idea suggested by Sunghoon—who said going to the beach at night was a great idea. Of course, that plan ended up with all of you running back to the beach house when a crab bit the guy and he screamed like he was getting killed.

“I swear, I feel like my foot is going to fall off.”

“Sunghoon, you’re actually so dramatic, not to mention that you literally provoked the little thing.” Chaewon said as she handed him an ice pack.

He smirked, “this was part of my plan, you know? Getting you to take care of me and all.” Everyone rolled their eyes at his poor attempt at flirting with the girl, “I heard a kiss helps you cure yourself from crab wounds.” He winked, pouting his lips teasingly.

Chaewon glared at him, then turned to Yunjin and you, who had been silently laughing the whole time. “This is the last time we’re hanging out with him.”

Sunghoon gasped, holding his hand out dramatically then pointed at you, “have you ever gone skinny-dipping, y/n?”

“Dude.” Jay glared at him, making the guy giggle.

You looked at him and shook your head. Sunghoon grinned, glancing at Jake. “There was this one time Jake and I went skinny-dipping and—“ Jake quickly covered his mouth, his words muffling.

“Hey! We said we wouldn’t say anything!” He yelped when he felt the guy bite him.

“Oh gosh, is he drunk?” Chenle whispered to Beomgyu, who was then slapped on the arm by Sunghoon.

“Drunk in love,” he snorted, winking at Chaewon who groaned and fell on the couch right next to you and Jay. “My time will come, Kim Chaewon.”

“It will. Not in the way you think, though.” She muttered, hugging your side.

Without you or him really noticing, Jay slid his arm behind you to rest on the couch, subtly brushing your bare skin on your shoulders with his fingers. You glanced at him and found him staring at you, making you smile at him shyly. He looked at you and stared at you for a moment with that softness in his eyes that you didn’t know he only had for you.

“Jay, you’re making cheeseburgers, right?” Beomgyu flopped on the coach, the weight of it suddenly making you slide closer to Jay, your side now touching his.

“For sure, want me to start now?” Jay said, trying his hardest not to react to your touch. Beomgyu nodded with an innocent smile, making the guy mentally frown. “Let me get right to it then.”

“I’ll help you!” You suddenly called when you saw him stand up, pushing the girl off of you softly. “Unless you have everything handled.” You tried to sound less excited.

Heeseung and Yunjin shared a look, the boy speaking first. “I vote she helps. She makes fire fries. Right, Yunjin?” She nodded immediately.

“Yo, I love her fries!” Beomgyu exclaimed.

Jay smiled at you, nodding his head towards the exit of the living room. “Let’s go then.” You quickly stood up and made your way to the boy.

“We’ll be in the basement!” Sunghoon shouted as he made his way downstairs, dragging Jake with him, the others following behind.

Nonchalantly—or at least you thought so—you walked into the kitchen, opening the fridge to grab a beer, handing it to Jay with a soft smile, the same smile Jay swore he’d pass out from one day.

“Thanks.” He shyly said, “you don’t drink beer?” He asked when you closed the fridge without a bottle.

“Oh gosh, no. I hate it.” You responded as you put the meat on the island counter. “I prefer drinks.”

Jay let his lips part, exhaling a small “ah” as an answer. “Want me to make you a drink?” He put his beer down, his eyes set on you.

“What kind of drink?” You tilted your head with your shy smile before handing him a brown apron, to which he turned around, back facing you, so you could put it on him. You chuckled as you wrapped the apron around him, your soft breathing falling on Jay’s neck.

“Whatever the lady wants.” He responded quietly.

He turned around to meet with your gaze and smiled down at you, a smile appearing across his lips. You giggled softly, “what?”

“Nothing.” He said quickly.

You shrugged, your eyes shifting away from him when he softly chuckled. Whatever he was doing, whether it was on purpose or not, had you falling hard.

The next two days, you were either going crazy or completely delusional. You had noticed for a moment—how Jay was suddenly closer to you, it wasn’t weird at first, you hadn’t even noticed it; you had gone to the beach, say together, he asked you if you could put sunscreen on his back and go swim with him, just the normal stuff. But then it was things like going on a walk together in the morning, sneaking into your room to wake you up and asking if you wanted to take a walk, obviously you said ‘yes’, how could you not.

Even Beomgyu had noticed, mumbling something about “they look like they have something going on.”

That might’ve been what made you more aware of what Jay did. Which is why you decided to sneak out with Heeseung when everyone else was having drinks at the beach house with some other people they met up with from university.

“I don’t know, I think you should just tell him how you feel.” Heeseung said, taking a huge sip from the bottle before handing it back to you.

“You think so?” He nodded, “what if I’m just reading things the wrong way? Don’t you think he’s just being nice?”

He shrugged. “Well, he is nice. Nice as fuck. But come on, he treats you way differently than everyone else. Like yes, he’s nice to Yunjin and Chaewon, he’s a gentleman, obviously. But Y/n, he’s like—a different person when he’s with you—a nice different.”

“Okay…ugh, I just—I feel so stupid. I mean, we’re adults, and I feel like—“ you shook your whole body, kicking off the sand you were walking on. “—I feel like I’m back in high school or something. It’s a weird feeling.”

“I say go for it.”

“You always say that.”

He shrugged, nudging his shoulder with yours. “Speaking of,”

You rubbed your eyes, seeing the familiar silhouette walking towards you two. “I hate that I didn’t bring my contacts.”

“It’s Jay.” He whispered.

“I know that, obviously.” You whispered back.

“You guys good?” Asked Jay, approaching you with an unfamiliar smile.

“For sure,” Heeseung spoke before you. “Hey, why don’t you keep walking with Y/n? My feet are starting to hurt.” He stopped and patted your head.

Jay looked at you and smiled, nodding. “I’d love to.”

You smiled shyly, discreetly kicking the back of Heeseung’s knee when he took the bottle from you and walked away, leaving you alone with the man you were literally just talking about.

After a few seconds of silent and very awkward silence, Jay stepped into your side, slightly touching your arm with his. 

“You okay?” He quietly asked, sounding way too nice.

You looked up at him and smiled, “yeah. Just wanted to take a walk.” You started moving your feet.

He hummed, following you with his hands behind his back. “Yeah, me too. Well, I came out here to see how you were because you were gone for quite some time and was afraid something happened to you. But the air’s pretty nice right now too.” He explained, making you smile at his sudden ramble. “Everyone’s pretty wasted back in the house.”

“Do you even know who the other people were?” You chuckled.

“Nah. I’m pretty sure we’ve spoken like once.” You covered your mouth to keep yourself from laughing, making Jay smile and push your shoulder once again. “What?” He laughed.

“Nothing.” You spoke in a little voice.

Jay, instead of pushing any further, hummed again, and let it go. You sighed in relief, you didn’t even know why you laughed, the simple thought of Jay being here with you made you giggle, you did not want to explain that to him.

“You look really pretty tonight.” He spoke all of a sudden.

You froze for a second then smiled, shyly tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. “You think?”

He nodded, “You look pretty every day but today..the sun made you glow more, if that makes sense.” He chuckled, “what I’m trying to say is that you look really pretty every day but you especially look prettier tonight.”

You snorted a laugh at his stuttering, “I get what you’re trying to say. Thanks Jay, you look really handsome as well.” You commented with a confident smile.

He looked down at himself then tilted his head at you. “You really think so?” You nodded shyly, the confidence you had just a second ago grumbling when his eyes lingered on you. “Thank you.”

“Of course.” You mumbled.

Jay chuckled, his hand accidentally brushing yours as they sat in the air whilst you walked. You both looked down, ignoring the tingling feeling in both of your bodies.

“The water looks so scary at night.” You commented, “have you ever wanted to go swim this late?”

He shook his head immediately, “I wouldn’t even do it for a million bucks.”

“Actually?” You giggled at his reaction.

“What if something comes and bites me?”

“You’re so unserious, Jay.” You laughed.

He clicked his tongue inside his cheek, grabbing your arm when he saw you getting closer to the water. “I’m smart. I’ve seen a bunch of shark movies. Trust me.” He pulled you closer.

You smiled teasingly at him. “You’re scared of the water!” You giggled, pointing your free finger at him, the effect of alcohol finally kicking in.

“I didn’t say that!” He laughed, taking your finger in his hand.

“You basically did! It’s okay, Jay. I’ll keep your secret.” You whispered, pulling yourself closer to him, your back now touching his chest.

“You better.” He whispered back, his breath tingling behind your ear. “What are you afraid of then, Miss weird lady?” He asked with a playful smile, looking down at you as his arm wrapped around you, still holding your hand in his.

“I…am afraid of nothing. I'm cool like that.” You smirked, making him laugh.

“I’m sure you’re scared of something. But okay, I’ll get you to admit it one day.” He stood closer to whisper right in your ear.

You hummed, your cheeks heating up at the feeling of his breath close to your neck.

“For now, what do you say we go back to the house before one of us gets eaten by a shark?” He asked, helping you stand normally.

“I’m okay here.” You simply said, not moving further.

Jay chuckled when he felt you stop him from walking. “Here?” He repeated.

“It’s fun being with you.”

Jay looked down at you, his eyes suddenly shifting down to your lips before looking back at your eyes. “You’re so drunk, aren’t you?” 

“You don’t think I like spending time with you?”

He shook his head, “it’s not that, I just—“

“—I might be drunk but I’m definitely conscious, Jay.” You giggled, grabbing him by the shoulder. “You doubt that you’re good company?” You asked in a much intimate tone.

He looked down at you, gulping at the simple sight of you. “I don’t. It’s different with you.”

“…different how?” You whispered.

As nervous as Jay suddenly became, he was so glad a drunk Jake and Beomgyu came out stumbling and falling face hard into the sand, interrupting whatever you two were having.

“Ouch.” The two boys mumbled, making you and Jay rush to them like parents.

Whatever you two had to say to each other, might have to wait.

jayJAY!😊:  hi

jayJAY!😊:  are u awake

you:  HI

you:  i might be…can’t sleep

jayJAY!😊:  come to the backyard

jayJAY!😊:  why

jayJAY!😊:  just comeeee

jayJAY!😊:  put on a bathing suit

jayJAY!😊:  okay

jayJAY!😊:  YAYYY

you:  what did i just witness

jayJAY!😊:  GET HEREEE

you:  AAHSHJAHJ OKIIII

You quite literally wasted no time in changing from your very comfortable hello kitty pajamas into your two piece pink bathing suit, not something out of the world, but it did capture your figure perfectly. You grabbed your shorts and put them on, almost tripping on your own feet before quietly opening the door to your room.

Everyone was basically out of it by now; Jake, Beomgyu and Yunjin had gotten the most drunk and actually passed out in the game room. Heeseung and Chenle had fallen asleep hugging each other, Sunghoon had tried to go to the room Chaewon was sleeping in but ended up passing out right outside of it since she had locked him out. The other people that the others had invited had disappeared. You had sobered up by two in the morning but could not sleep at all from all the thoughts you had inside, running through your brain.

You made your way downstairs, careful not to wake anyone up, and slid the door to the backyard open. You saw Jay look behind him, a smile appearing on his lips.

He was inside the jacuzzi, shirtless and with wet hair, and you swore you almost passed out because of how handsome he looked with the new style of hair.

“Hi.” You smiled shyly, the bubbles of the jacuzzi suddenly looking more intimidating to you.

Jay stared at you for a second before tapping the dry concrete beside him. You made your way to him, sitting exactly next to where he was sitting only outside, your feet being the only thing in the water. “Oh, the water is really warm.”

He chuckled, letting his hands fall on his lap. “I think that’s the point of jacuzzis.” He teased you.

“Ah, really?” You chuckled, playing along. “I’ve never liked jacuzzis.”

Jay snapped his head towards you, looking up in disbelief. “Why’s that?”

You shrugged. “My cousin used to pee all the time and no one ever noticed because the water was already warm.” You explained casually, causing Jay to shift in his seat uncomfortably. “Ahh, I’m joking!” You pointed your finger at him, instantly lowering yourself into the circle, moving across Jay.

“I have a feeling you aren’t joking.” He squinted his eyes at you.

“No, I’m dead serious. Our family is a bunch of kids, at least one of them had to pee in here.” You waved your hands under water, splashing some of it on Jay. “Don’t worry! They’re banned from entering the jacuzzi.”

He snorted a laugh, licking his lips as he watched you tip more of your body under water. “Why?”

“Because only adults are allowed to be here,” you pointed at him and yourself. “We’re good.” You winked at him, making him laugh, letting his head slightly fall back.

Something about his smile, as dark as it was right now, brightened the whole backyard. It was at that moment, when you realized how serious your feelings were for Jay, and you were scared as hell for feeling this way because it made your heart beat faster than it normally did.

“Why did you ask me to come here, anyway?” You spoke first after a few seconds of moving your hands in the water, trying your best to not feel too nervous around him.

Jay nodded, following your movements as his hands dove in the water. “Just…wanted to be with you.”

You nodded along, “is that so?” You let your mouth move before your brain.

He looked at you and chuckled, watching as you kept looking everywhere but him. “Mhm, the stars are so pretty tonight, aren’t they?” He commented, grinning from ear to ear. Thinking he was looking up, you turned to him, only to find him staring at you.

“Yeah…” you trailed off.

“This weekend was nice, by the way.” He said, changing the topic. “I’m glad you invited me.” 

You smiled, letting your head fall backwards until your hair was completely wet. “You were always considered in the invitation.” You mumbled.

“Really?” You nodded.

“You’re Heeseung's best friend, and Yunjin and Beomgyu always wanted to get close to you because they thought you were cool.” He chuckled. 

“What about you?” He asked, his tone sounding more personal, more attentive.

“Me?” He nodded, “uhm, im glad you’re here.” You smiled shyly at him.

“That’s good to hear.” He said, almost sounding like a whisper. He pushed himself away from the jacuzzi wall, closing the little space you had. You straightened your legs to stand at your regular height, yet Jay still stood taller, bigger, than you.

As some hair pieces fall into your face, Jay slowly tucks them behind your ear, causing your lips to part open subconsciously. He let his hand fall to your right cheek, and slowly caressed it, tilting your head upwards.

“Can I…confess something?” You nodded too quickly, making him smile. He wiped the drops of water on your cheek and laughed softly. He then stood quiet for a second, sighed, and dipped his head lower, “I think I’m falling for you.”

For a second, as if time had stopped and you and Jay were the only ones there–which you technically were–your eyes softened, eyebrows shifting slightly upward. Your breathing hitched as you looked at him–as confident as he stood, it seemed like he was rethinking his words as he watched your reaction shift every second, "Don’t feel pressured to respond, I just wanted to be honest. I understand if you don’t reciprocate my feelings–”

“–No!” Jay’s eyes widened, making you exhale out a laugh, “I like–I have feelings for you as well.” You sighed in relief.

“You do?” You nodded. Jay’s shoulder relaxed as he placed his free hand on his chest where his heart would be, a smile appeared across his face, also making you smile. “Thank God.”

You let out a giggle, feeling your cheeks heating when he went to reach for them again, “Was I not…obvious?”

“I was afraid I misunderstood or something,” he cupped your face on his hands, “I’m glad I was wrong, though.” You looked into each other's eyes, his fingers caressing your face softly, making your breath heavier.

“...Can I?” He let his eyes linger on yours, flickering to your lips a few times, waiting for a response as his thumb lightly touches your bottom lip. Your whole self froze, no words coming out but a simple nod. “I need words, pretty.”

“I would really like it if you kissed me, Jay.” You managed to whisper.

Jay’s gaze softened, and didn't wait a second more to softly capture his lips on yours. You melt instantly in his hold, your hand falling on his shoulder to grab something. His right hand quickly found your lower back, holding you close as his lips continued to move with yours in a small, innocent kiss.

And when he finally pulled away, you immediately felt the heat rush to your cheeks. Your arm was loosely holding onto Jay’s shoulder, your lips ghostly brushing his as he reached for another sweet kiss. You chuckled breathlessly at the action, then pulled him closer for another kiss, only this one lasted longer than the first two, both of your lips moving more synchronized, more familiar now.

“I’ve been wanting to do this for God knows how long.” Jay whispered as you both broke the kiss. You giggled against his lips, his finger touching your lips with a teasing smile, “Hey, I’ve been a patient man.”

“Of course you have.” You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and smiled. “It’s cute.”

“Mhm.” He hummed, pressing his forehead to yours. “You’re cute. A cute but weird lady.”

You snorted, tilting your head sideways to capture his lips once again. Surprised, Jay let you take control, his hands still being hesitant to touch you elsewhere but your waist and neck. You pulled him closer, close enough that your chest was touching his. He removed his hand from your neck and placed it on your hip, pulling you even closer.

“Can we…play mermaids?” You asked in a breathless whisper, pulling away from the kiss.Jay–with plumped and red lips from your touch–let out a laugh, a genuine smile creasing the corner of his eyes as he nodded. “Yes, ma’am.” You squeezed his shoulders, placing a quick kiss on his cheek before jumping out of the jacuzzi and jumping into the actual pool. Jay looked at you for a moment, his face lighting up as he watched you start swimming around as if you were a mermaid. What a weird lady. He shook his head, laughing before jumping in with you.

mars yap I loved doing this fic even tho it took longer to write omg I hope u enjoyed this as well and hope to see u in my future fics!!! I am currently writing a Jake fic and will head with sunghoon after so pls be patient LOVE UUU THANKS FOR READING EVERYBODY

You muttered some godforsaken gibberish at your brother Jungwon, who was now full blown pounding on the bathroom door.

“Hello???? Are you wiping your shit on the walls?” His annoying voice at seven in the morning pissed you off even more. “you’ve been in there for forty minutes!”

He flinched a little when you violently kicked the door open, your wobbly lips meeting his squinted eyes.

“Are…you wearing makeup?”

You ignored your brother and walked past him to grab your backpack, leaving him fighting invisible comments inside his head ranging from insults to curiosity. But as much of an asshole as Jungwon was, he knew everything had a place and time, and currently your situation came before everything else. Most importantly, chasing after someone just to prove you didn’t care about standing your ground when something was wrong was pathetic. But unfortunately, this time you were wrong.

Small arguments and bickering between you and the senior you had started seeing almost six months ago were very normal, something Jungwon had always witnessed. As skeptical as he was about Lee Heeseung—the very person he looked up to, whether as the head boy of school, captain of the baseball club, or just the dreamiest senior as titled by almost every girl—actually liking you and ending up as your boyfriend, he realized at the end of the day it wasn’t his business. He knew you were fake as hell when it came to your feelings.

Even before dating Heeseung, you used to boast about how you never understood what was so special about him anyway, but the sight of you practically melting whenever he came to your class for choosing club volunteers or catching up with his brother Jeno, who was your classmate, was noticeable to literally everyone. The truth was, even you didn’t know how or why Lee Heeseung had started liking you. And you weren’t even interested in knowing. I mean, let’s just have some fun before both of us graduate, right?

But oh boy, you soon realized it was a lot more than just fun.

As much as you hated it, Heeseung loved riling you up just to get those little reactions out of you, which he thought were cute for some reason. Cute?! How dare he? You were almost the same height as him ( after tiptoeing a little, but that still counted! ) and you swore you weren’t any less hotter than all those badass female characters from movies Karina rented during sleepovers at your house. How dare he call you, the brother beater, cute? And you were so damn adamant about making Heeseung believe you weren’t just some cute girl he was dating. If he really wanted a cute girl, he could go date the pretty captain of the cheerleading team, Risa, who was practically waiting for you to slip up.

The one sided argument went on until you overdid it last weekend, right after heeseung lost an important match. He had just been trying to rest his head on your shoulder, teasing about how it was easy because of your “model like height,” but your already wounded heart took it as an insult and started arguing out of thin air. Heeseung expected you to understand he was only teasing, but you were also expecting him to realize you were tired of being insecure and wanted him to just pull you close already like he always did. But pushing the baseball team captain’s buttons was something only his girlfriend was capable of.

So you and Heeseung went practically no contact. And even when you expected him to text first like he always did, there was nothing. The next update you got was from Jeno’s Instagram story, a picture of Heeseung and Risa posted together, holding the new trophy Heeseung had won during Sunday’s match. There was a match on Sunday, and you weren’t even aware of it.

Karina scooted a little away from you, followed by a glance at Sunoo, who looked equally terrified noticing the metaphorical black smoke coming out of your ears.

“hey so… about the movie—”

“Go to hell,” you whispered, and that was enough to shut both of them up.

In the middle of classes, Heeseung came into your classroom exactly five times for five different reasons, which eventually annoyed even your homeroom teacher, who was usually a fan of the older boy. But everyone knew those were all pathetic excuses because whether he was asking Jeno for an extra pen, checking Riki, Jake, and Jungwon’s free schedules for baseball practice, complimenting Karina’s shit handwriting, or asking Sunoo if the movie plans were still on, everyone noticed how his eyes always glanced toward you just to see your reaction. The actual reaction came from Karina and Sunoo when you showed up in front of the movie plaza wearing a sleeveless dress that reached your mid-thigh.

“Girl, you look bomb but look at the weather,” Karina shivered while checking you out up and down. You ignored the goosebumps on your skin while kicking her leg lightly and turned to Sunoo.

“When is the movie starting?”

“We still have time, but Heeseu—oh, here he is!” Sunoo cut himself off and waved at the taller boy crossing the road. You gulped the moment you dared to look at Heeseung and immediately felt your throat drying up. How does he make casual clothes look so good on him? He took long strides toward your group, and then your heart dropped when you realized the figure behind him. Fucking Risa.

“Sorry, guys! Hope we’re not late! I’m kind of crashing y’all’s date!” she chirped, rubbing her palms together as a blush spread across her cheeks. Soon her eyes fell on you. “Oh my god, Y/n, aren’t you cold?”

You ignored her and grabbed Sunoo’s hand “let’s go.”

From the corner of your eye, you saw Heeseung open his mouth, but you ignored him completely. He could shove his questions up his ass. The movie was infuriatingly slow, and you cursed both Karina and Sunoo for choosing a romance genre knowing damn well you hated revealing your obsession with cute stuff and pda—especially when Lee Heeseung was sitting right next to you. You noticed Risa glancing his way, and you couldn’t help but feel weird.

Did he and Risa really grow close during these few days? Was your absence exactly what Heeseung needed to realize who his true love was?

There you went again with your overactive imagination. Your eyes welled up despite hating the fact everyone could hear you sniffle.“bitch why are you crying? This isn’t even a sad scene,” Sunoo whispered behind you.You replied by letting out an even louder sob. Karina looked around worriedly to see if people were getting annoyed, but she stopped soon after noticing Heeseung forcefully or maybe not so forcefully pulling you against him, your face pressed into his arm while your shoulders shook slightly. She smiled to herself, and her eyes met a very wide eyed Risa staring directly at her.

The movie ended with you missing more than half the plot and crying on Heeseung’s arm.

Burning with embarrassment, guilt, and ego, you stood up as soon as the credits rolled and started walking toward the exit with Risa trailing behind you.

“Y/n, wait!!”

You stopped in your tracks hearing her voice as she stood in front of you, panting a little from running.

“Oh my god you walk so fast!” You rolled your eyes “no shit, Sherlock. I’m tall.”

She flinched slightly at your aggressive tone but quickly broke into a shy smile again “I—hey, so I actually needed some advice from you…”

Your breathing sharpened as you tried calming your racing heart. What was it? Was she going to ask if you and Heeseung were still together? Or tell you to leave him because you clearly weren’t suited for him at all? Or worse…What if she asked how to impress Heeseung? Oh no no no no. Lord, this can’t happen.

“Is Karina single?”

“No, I can’t tell you! He’s mine!!”

Both of you stared at each other in shock as you recollected what you just muttered and what your ears picked up.

Risa was the first to break the silence with a gasp “oh no–no! You got the wrong idea! I—I…” she stammered while you mentally facepalmed. Oh my god. How stupid could you be??? Suddenly, you heard faint laughter of Karina and Sunoo behind you. Risa grabbed your hand desperately. “Text me once you reach home safely! I’ll be waiting for your answer!” You barely managed to give her a slow nod and watched her disappear into the crossing.

“Where did Risa go?” Karina asked, whipping her head left and right. As much as you were bubbling inside, you cleared your throat and sighed “her mom called her for some emergency. Speaking of which, I need to return home too…”

Karina and Sunoo exchanged knowing smiles immediately. “Aye aye captain,” Sunoo nodded. “We’ll leave you and your personal home walker alone.” he winked at you ignoring your fake ass scoff. As they walked away, Heeseung’s figure became visible again. He started walking toward you, making you take a deep breath, ready to settle whatever unfinished business you still had with him.

Once he stopped in front of you, you crossed your arms.

“Take off your jacket. I’ll give it back after washing it tomorrow.”

He immediately started taking off his jacket, making you irrationally irritated. You were just trying to act cute! How were you even supposed to wash that heavy ass leather jacket? Whatever. You were down to do anything for your stupid boyfriend anyway—You let out a shriek when Heeseung suddenly wrapped the jacket around your shoulders, warmth immediately engulfing your shaking figure “tomorrow’s a holiday baby.”

“Don’t call me that! I know!” you squeaked despite feeling your heartbeat thunder inside your chest. Heeseung giggled. Oh now he's giggling after stressing you out for days.

“You’re so cute when you do that by the way…” he whispered, instantly earning a smack on the arm from you. “Again? I told you not to call me tha—”

You got cut off when he grabbed your wrist and pulled you closer, noses bumping effortlessly “—and so hot when you keep riling me up like this.”

Blood rushed to your face so quickly and you felt your ears turning hot.“W-whatever…” you muttered before lightly kicking the pavement. “You’ve lost all your boyfriend privileges to call me any of those after choosing not to tell me about your baseball match last Sunday.”

“But I’m blocked on every platform” he buried his face into your neck, and squeezed you tight. You prayed he stay like that until the abnormal smile on your face was completely gone. Ugh he smelled so obnoxiously good too.

“yes and it’s going to stay like that”

Heeseung pulled away with wide eyes “the postal system is fucked up here, and I don’t own any pigeons. My baby please have some mercy,” he pleaded, his round eyes meeting yours and leaving your stomach in complete chaos.

“Fine…” you mumbled “not until you act cute in front of me.”

“Y/N.”

“I don’t wanna hear anyyyy excuzezzzz,” you sang while turning away and felt Heeseung’s arms wrap around you from behind.

“Seriously? You’re making me do this in the middle of the road?”

You burst into laughter when he awkwardly made a pathetic kitty ear pose. Then you tiptoed slightly and pressed a soft kiss against his lips.“Try harder,” you whispered against his mouth. “You’re almost there.”

Despite his quiet and introverted tendencies, he's friends with Jake, who is almost always the loudest person in the room. Jake is the type of person who can crack a smile and start a conversation with anybody. He doesn't mind if the small talk is bland and boring, unlike Jay, who counts the seconds until it's over. Jake loves it when the attention is on him like any other twenty-year-old something who's just gotten used to leaving home for the first time.

Their apartment on the outskirts of Seoul is less of an apartment and more like a small house, courtesy of Jay's exceptionally rich parents who dropped an unprecedented amount of money into his bank account despite the fact that he has a job. They don't particularly love that he works at a guitar repair shop or that he occasionally teaches people how to play the instrument when he has a free weekend, but Jay's never been the kind of person to care about what other people think of him as long as he's doing what he loves.

Well, that's how he's been ever since he started smoking.

Some time back in high school during the summer before his third year, he'd somehow met a freshly graduated student looking to sell off the rest of his marijuana before moving away for college. No way he could pack that shit in his luggage and fly halfway across the world with it in his possession. The plug was a friend of a friend. On a hot Thursday summer night, Jay smoked from a bong for the first time. He coughed and coughed, grateful that neither his friend nor the plug laughed at him for too long. The high didn't kick in until the third try when Jay had learned how to properly inhale.

If he could describe that first taste of euphoria, Jay would probably say it felt like walking on cloud nine with his head feeling heavier than a rock while the rest of his body felt as light as a feather. He could finally focus on one thing at a time instead of his brain running with a million thoughts. This was what it meant to let loose and be in the present moment. His friends thought he spent too much time worrying about the future instead of basking in the here and now. Jay finally understood what they were talking about.

When you first catch his eye, it's in the basement of his apartment. You arrived forty minutes prior along with your friends, some of whom he knows from around campus, and he looks at your exceptionally short black skirt that hugs your curves. The weather is starting to warm up with summer approaching beyond the horizon, even during the nighttime. Jay's red, bloodshot eyes rake over the expanse of your exposed legs and stop at the hem of the fabric before he peeks at your top, which is surely too small to properly cover your chest. It's a wonder how you haven't noticed him blatantly checking you out, but then again, the music is loud and there's far too many people in this room to make him stand out.

You look at Jay when the rest of your friends start to gather around the couch he's sitting on. Jake, who has migrated towards the coffee table with bottles of beer and soju, puts the drinks on the surface and starts pouring shots like the alcohol will give everybody enough courage to fly if they tried hard enough. He watches as you take a look at him too. Jay wears loose fitting black jeans and an old grey t-shirt he's worn one too many times. He's ditched his signature leather jacket because the apartment is warm with all the bodies that move before him and because it's his place. There's no use putting one on when he can walk upstairs to his bedroom if he gets cold. He never does. Several silver necklaces adorn his neck accompanied with matching silver jewelry that somehow makes his fingers look much longer than when his hands are completely bare. The callouses on his fingertips wrap around the joint in his hands—which is halfway finished—by the time you walk around the coffee table and look down at him.

"Is this seat taken?" Jay shakes his head.

"All yours."

He hears your polite thank you amidst noise. There's far too much for him to focus on, namely the chatter of multiple conversations and Jake's twenty-seven hour long playlist he puts on shuffle every time he hosts a party. Now he has to add in your perfume into the mix, which smells something like almond and cherries. Jay doesn't mean to inhale your scent, but it's kind of hard not to when you're sitting so close to him. The couch is only so big, anyway. Your thigh might as well be pushing against his if you weren't so polite.

"I like you what you did with your hair," you say, turning your body to look at him.

"Hm?" Jay hums.

"You hair. I like what you did with it," you repeat, using your index finger to point at his gelled hair, which he styled last minute thanks to Jake's suggestion. "It looks good on you."

"You think so?" You nod a few times. Jay can tell you're drunk from pregaming and the drinks his roommate and your friends have been passing around for the last hour or so.

"You look…edgy."

"Edgy?"

"Like, way too cool to be here."

Jay nearly scoffs at that. Too cool. Nobody's ever used that phrase to describe him before. Most people think he's too quiet for his own good or that he's a bit of a snob because he refuses to be part of the crowd that goes along with anything for the sake of looking like he has friends. Jay is the kind of person who keeps to himself until he feels comfortable enough to open up. Being vulnerable is not his forte. He'd rather keep everything to himself until he's given a reason to spill his guts. People tend to compare him to Jake and always wonder how the two of them are so close despite being so different. His best friend's loudness complements his quiet nature, even if it gets to be too overwhelming sometimes.

You, on the other hand, are the epitome of cool. Jay's never spoken to you in his life, but he's seen you around before. You never walk around campus without somebody trailing after you and on the rare occasions you're alone, he's seen you call out to somebody as they pass by. Jay doesn't know if you're a natural socializing magnet or if people seek you out on purpose. He doesn't know if there's much of a difference. Jay has never found the appeal of having a large friend group because he'd rather find a few people who he can trust than entertain people who don't really care about him. He doesn't know you well enough to make any assumptions beyond what he's witnessed, but you're friends with the girl Jake is talking to, which means he's been seeing you more than he ever has.

With his joint still lit, Jay laughs and the sound vibrates deep within him as the high continues making him feel like his head is much heavier than the rest of his body, just how he likes it. "You flatter me."

"You're Jay, right?" You ask. You tell him your name, which he already knows, but he chooses not to tell you that.

"Yeah, I am. Jake's roommate."

"I've heard a lot about you."

"Have you?"

"Good things, I promise," you tell him with a sweet smile. Jay's eyes barely flicker to your lips. You'd notice if you were sober, but you aren't. "Jake told me you play guitar. I think that's really cool."

"Do you play too?"

You shake your head. "Nope. I grew up playing piano. My parents never let me learn guitar because they wanted me to become a pianist."

"How's that going for you?"

"I can play Tchaikovsky without sheet music, but I really like learning about astronomy."

"You're either a disappointment or an exceptional daughter."

You giggle. Jay doesn't think he's made anyone make that sound before.

"Maybe a little bit of both. I crushed their dreams of seeing me in Carnegie Hall, but they're happy I chose a hard science as my major. I'm planning on going to grad school after taking a gap year."

"You're…very confident."

"Is that a bad thing?" You ask with the tilt of your head.

"Not at all. I'm just surprised."

"You are the cute guy with a joint and enough jewelry to last a lifetime. You look pretty confident to me." Your eyes rake over his hands, which are adorned with an assortment of silver rings before passing up his neck and to his ears, both of which are tastefully decorated. Jay looks at you and notices you're decked out in jewelry too. The gold tones complements you well.

"I think people shouldn't be afraid of accessorizing," Jay says.

"Fuck the clean girl aesthetic." You laugh. "I'm just kidding. People can do what they want. But I don't feel like myself unless my eyes are caked in eyeliner." Your makeup looks expertly put on. It's messy in a tasteful way, like you didn't try too hard even though you probably took your time getting ready.

"It looks nice on you."

"You think so?"

Jay nods. "Makes you look like a rock star."

"You're one to talk," you say, letting your eyes fall again.

The joint burns quicker than he'd like and in lieu of a response, Jay takes another puff and hopes he doesn't come off as socially awkward. He inhales and holds it in his lungs as casually as he can before turning his head away to blow the smoke anywhere but in your face. Jay can feel your eyes watching his lips as he brings the joint to his mouth and feels his neck start to warm up.

"Do you want to take a hit?" He asks, holding the joint out for you.

"Do you care if I get lip gloss on it?"

As if he'd pass up the chance to taste it.

He pushes the joint closer to you until your nimble fingers take it from him and he watches intently as your lips enclose around the opening. You've already got your lip gloss on it, something he can only describe as cherry cola, but he doesn't really care. Maybe he's high or maybe he knows a thing or two about pretty girls who like to make their lips look real kissable, but Jay takes note of your brown lip liner that makes you look even more delectable than when you were standing across the room from him.

Like the polite girl you are, you turn your head away to blow the smoke out of your mouth. You take it like a champ, too. You inhaled quite a bit and he was sure he'd have to get up from his spot on the couch to grab you a glass of water—or make Jake do it—but you cough only once to clear your throat before turning back around and inspecting the lip gloss that's managed to taint the paper. You smile and laugh when you notice it, flicking your eyes back towards Jay as you pass the joint back to him.

"Sorry," you apologize. "I really tried not to get any on there."

"S'okay. It happens," he mumbles, trying not to become too transfixed with the way you rub your lips together.

"Do you always offer your joints to strangers you see at parties?"

"Only if they're pretty."

Jesus. He's never this bold when he's sober. Jay sees a flicker of bashfulness in your expression when he says it, though. He isn't used to talking to girls like Jake is because he's got more things to worry about than wondering when he'll get his dick wet. He's the kind of guy that likes to take things slow and only jumps in on opportunities if they happen naturally. Jake's tried to introduce him to a few girls in the past but it never felt right.

Something about you smoking the joint he rolled twenty minutes before this party began is making him feel differently.

"Do you think I'm pretty, Jay?" Caught between embarrassment and bravado, he chooses the latter.

"Very pretty."

"I think you're pretty too."

"Do you?"

You nod. "Always have. I've seen you around campus before. You've got this mysterious thing going on. It works for you."

"Did Jake put you up to this?" He asks, shaking his head before inhaling a small puff.

"He didn't," you tell him. "I'm not really friends with Jake. Well, we know each other because we've shared a few classes and because he's talking to my best friend. No colluding here."

You move closer to him only slightly, but Jay's high and the only thing he can focus on is your exposed thigh inching closer towards his own. Your skirt has already ridden up so far because of the position you're sitting in and because it's hard to fix your clothes when you aren't standing up. If he looked down, Jay would see your tits practically shoving themselves in his face because of the tight, low cut. But even when he's inebriated, Jay is a gentleman, so he maintains his composure and keeps a respectful distance.

"Can I have another hit?" He gives the joint back to you and tries his best not to gawk at your lips again. "This isn't your scene, is it?"

"It is if Jake asks me to come," he answers, watching you tilt your head back to exhale. "I'm not a party guy, but it's my house and it'll be just as loud in my bedroom."

"I see," you say with a hum, looking at the group of people that have gathered near the table at the far end of the room. "It's not really my scene either."

"It's not?"

You shake your head. "I go to these things because my friends like to and I like them. Don't get me wrong, I like going out, but I think I'd rather smoke with a few people in my apartment instead."

"What would you rather be doing?"

"Depends on my mood. Right now I'd rather be high on my roof stargazing. I also like watching anime a lot. I'd rather be doing that alone in my bedroom."

"You must really like your friends to come out tonight." You laugh and Jay thinks it sounds like his favorite melody.

"I have my moments where I want to go out. I think my introversion comes out sometimes, but it's my last year of university and who knows when I'll be able to see all my friends in one place. What about you? What would you rather be doing?"

"Is it obvious that I'm bored?"

"Well, you look like you'd rather hide in your room than stay down here."

"I don't know anyone well enough," Jay tells you. "Not bad company, everyone's just a stranger tonight."

"But not me, right?" You ask, leaning in closer to him.

His eyes flicker down to your lips before looking back at you.

"No. Not you," he murmurs. "I know you now."

"Come play beer pong!" Jake shouts, interrupting the conversation from halfway across the room. When Jay turns his head to look, everyone has migrated to the table with red solo cups perfectly aligned on both sides. Your friends call out for you and Jay assumes you must be really good at this game if they're this adamant about you playing.

"Come with me?" You ask him, standing up while outstretching your hand to him. He only hesitates for a second before putting the joint in his mouth and putting his hand in yours.

Already, he notes how soft your palms are and the long, pointy shape of your nails that have been painted a dark shade of purple. Jay tries not to stare at your joined hands for too long because he doesn't want to seem like he's gawking, especially when he's surrounded by people you know. You lead him towards the crowd as Jake pours beer in the remaining empty cups.

You don't drop his hands immediately. Instead, you turn towards him and look up, batting your eyelashes. "Can I have another hit? For good luck?"

"Won't that make you loose focus?"

"I'm really good at beer pong."

Instead of giving you the joint, Jay holds it up to your mouth and watches you envelope the tip into your mouth. He doesn't hide the fact that he's staring, nor do you hide the fact that you're looking at him as he looks at you. He can hear your friend telling you to hurry up but you don't, instead choosing to inhale as much as you can before pulling away, holding it in your lungs, and blowing the smoke behind you.

"You know the rules," Jake says, standing across from you with a ping pong ball in his hand. "No pushing or blocking. I want a clean, fair game."

"Until the next round," your friend says.

Jake smirks. "Until the next round."

You finally let go of his hand to stand next to your friend and Jay can't help but trail his eyes until he looks at your ass. Fuck. You look exceptional in that skirt. He pulls his gaze away to avoid looking like a creep checking you out while you're bending over, but can anyone blame him? With every move and every stop, your skirt rides up your incredible thighs and he almost wishes he could push the fabric up just to see what you look like underneath it.

True to your word, you're really good at beer pong. Jake is far more drunk than you and your friend and his partner is barely carrying his weight. You, on the other hand, manage to sink the ping pong ball into the cup every single time you throw it. Jay relishes in Jake's defeated expression when he has to drink out of a cup, partially because his best friend wouldn't allow him to hole himself in his bedroom all night, and partially because Jay finds your hand-eye coordination really attractive. He finishes the remainder of the joint and finds a spare ash tray somewhere behind him.

The game ends eventually. Jay watches you and your best friend share a celebratory embrace and he can't help but let a ghost of a smile adorn his lips when he sees how happy you are now that you've won. Half of your drinks are still on the table while Jake's cups are nearly empty. Your friend walks to the other side of the table to console his best friend, who asks to team up for the next round as an excuse to be close to her, when you grab a two of the red cups and lift one to his mouth.

"Drink with me?"

He doesn't say no. Jay's knees nearly buckle when you maintain eye contact over the rim of the cup until you finish yours, which prompts him to finish his own. He doesn't particularly like the taste of warm, cheap beer, but he'd drink the rest of it if that meant staying by your side.

"Congratulations on the win. Jake's really bad at beer pong and hasn't improved in the four years I've known him," Jay says somewhat awkwardly, too high to find the confidence to act like he's sober enough to have a proper conversation with you. You're faring much better than he is, but he thinks it's probably because you're naturally good with people.

"I've played him a few times and you're right, he's terrible at it," you say with a short laugh. "What about you? Are you any good?"

"I'm decent, but I prefer staying on the sidelines instead of playing."

"That's okay." You smile up at him. "You can be my cheerleader from now on."

"Yeah?"

"Mhm," you hum. You hold your hand up in front of him. "Give me your phone."

"My phone?"

"I wanna give you my number, silly."

Jay nearly chokes. You're really pretty. He'd have to be an idiot to deny your request.

He fishes his phone from his pocket, grateful for his past self that decided to bring it downstairs instead of leaving it in his room like he usually does. After unlocking it, he hands the device to you and watches the way your fingers wrap around the case as you type your number. He's surprised when you take a picture of yourself in front of him to have as your contact photo before you hand it back. Your contact name is simple, spelled in all lowercase with a singular black heart right next to it.

God, you're something.

"Don't be a stranger, okay?"

✧･ﾟ─────────── ✧･

It's been two weeks since then.

Sober Jay from the morning after somehow convinced himself that you weren't serious about him texting you. It must've been the weed, right? Or maybe it was the atmosphere at the party. Things like this happen to Jake, not him.

But here you are, walking towards him with a big smile on your face.

Lee Heeseung cocks his head and looks between the two of you. He watches Jay notice you from the corner of his eye, slowing his gait as if to check if it's really you, before looking ahead and taking another step forwards. Heeesung raises an eyebrow and pulls Jay by the arm.

"You shouldn't ignore a gorgeous girl who wants your attention," says Heeseung, clearly giving you a once over. You don't seem to notice because you're too busy trying to get Jay's to look at you. "Do you know her?"

"Barely," Jay mutters.

"It looks like she knows you."

"We met at a party a couple of weeks ago, is all. We barely know each other."

"I'll come over after work," Heeseung says, effectively patting Jay on the shoulder before he leaves.

"Heeseung—"

"Jay!" You say from beside him. He looks down at you, giving Heeseung the chance to slip away without saying a proper goodbye. "Who's your friend?"

"Nobody important," Jay mumbles. "What are you doing here?"

"In the public quad?" He tries not to let a blush form atop his cheeks. "You didn't text me."

There's no use in trying to come up with a cohesive answer. He opens his mouth like he's a fish out of water, but you keep looking at him like you're amused.

"I didn't think you were serious."

"I even added a contact picture."

It's a fucking good one too.

"Here," you say, pulling your phone out of your pocket. "Put your number in my phone."

"This feels like déjà vu."

"I thought about finding your Instagram or asking around for your number, but you could've ignored me there too. I figure I'd find you and ask you myself."

Jay's never had anybody this interested in him. He's had girlfriends in the past, but they always felt like placeholders. He's pretty sure his ex-girlfriends felt the same way about him too. You, on the other hand, have been bold and forward ever since the first time you laid your eyes on him. Ever since sharing that joint a couple of weeks ago, Jay's felt this strange sense of his heartstrings being pulled involuntarily.

The truth is, he hasn't stopped thinking about you since that night. In the evening, when Jake is asleep or gaming with his noise cancelling headphones, Jay would pull up your contact and stare at your image for hours. He'd fantasize about seeing you again before feeling embarrassment for conjuring such an image. There have been to many times where he'd draft a text message just to delete it altogether. Jay can't pinpoint why he refrained from reaching out to you, but deep down, he knows it's because he's scared of being rejected by you.

And yet, here you are, asking for his phone number.

you: hi jay!!

"Don't be a stranger. I mean it this time," you tell him as you pocket your phone and walk away.

"Fuck," he whispers. He's never felt such exhilaration in his entire life.

Jay does text you back. He texts back approximately four hours later (after conferring with Heeseung on what he should say) and settles on being just as direct as you. He figures dinner and a movie is a safe bet, especially since he doesn't know you well enough to know what you'd be interested in. Heeseung tells Jay he's overthinking and fuck, he knows that, but it's hard not to when he really wants to impress you and make you believe he's more than just some guy you got high with at one of Jake's parties.

Sometimes Jay wonders if he jumps off of the deep end too fast. He'd never purposely make you feel like you need to rush into anything with him right off the bat, but he can't deny that his feelings towards you compile into something that feels like a crush. Smoking with you didn't feel like a one-time thing, especially since you held his fucking hand and told him to join you during that beer pong match. You let everyone see you drag him to the group. You didn't drop his hand for the sake of not wanting to be seen with him, but because your teammate needed you to be laser focused to win against Jake and his partner.

He'd never admit that you're on his mind at every waking hour. Perhaps he's been such a loner for so long, but Jake and Heeseung both would argue that Jay isn't a loner per se. Rather, he's someone who takes his time and has impossibly high standards because he wants to be completely sure about a decision before he goes all in. He's always been a bit indecisive like that, even in childhood. But it's not his fault that he's a careful person. Jay's careful with his mind, body, and soul.

You came into his life like a fucking thunderstorm. You've unarmed all of Jay's senses and made him forget being cautious like he usually does despite having only spent a few hours with you a couple of weeks ago. There's no rhyme or reason for your existence in his life and all you've done is share a joint and talk to him like you've known him all your life. He loves people like that. Jay's first encounter with Jake was at orientation during their first year of university and the latter had struck up a conversation because he simply didn't know anybody at the time. It was alarming in the best kind of way and Jay decided to take a leap of faith to befriend Jake. The rest is history, as they say.

Is it pathetic that he's thinking about making space in his life for you when he barely knows who you are? He knows you're beautiful, you like to get high, and you're exceptional at beer pong. There's not much he can go off of when he allows himself to fantasize about what it would be like to call you his girlfriend. God, Jay must be truly fucked in the head to think that far ahead when he's only hung out with you once. He'd never call himself a hopeless romantic or the kind of guy who believes in love at first sight, but something about your wondrous self makes him think otherwise.

Eventually, the two of you sit across from one another in a late night diner after seeing The Drama.

"This whole movie was bullshit," you say, dipping french fries into a mixture of ketchup and hot sauce. "I mean, Emma didn't go through with her original plan. Her belief system was completely shaped after finding her friend group. Shouldn't that count for something? Everyone else at that table did some fucked up shit, but Emma was the only one who didn't."

"Rachel was a terrible friend," Jay says with a definite nod. "Her husband—what was his named again? Mike?—was useless the entire time. All of this could've been avoided if Emma and Charlie postponed the wedding to talk about it."

"I couldn't help but notice how everyone except for Emma showed their true personalities. Rachel locked that kid in a closet and didn't help him. She got spooked and let left him to the wolves, which is exactly how she treated her best friend. Mike was a pussy who used his ex-girlfriend as a human shield and he did that again by hiding behind Rachel, no? And Charlie…he didn't even know what happened to the kid he cyberbullied and wrestled with that until he got over it. All three of them repeated their mistakes but Emma was the only one who didn't."

Jay can't help but look at you in awe. Underneath the awful diner lighting, you look beautiful as you dive straight into your analysis and your late night dinner. He can get talkative too, something his parents used to scold him for, and part of him thinks they're the reason why he feels conditioned to keep his opinions and feelings to himself. There are a few people, like Jake and Heeseung, who naturally bring out his loquacious tendencies. Jay feels that way with you and he loves that you aren't afraid to tell him what you think, even if it isn't pleasant.

"How did you feel about the ending? When Charlie and Emma met up at the diner and pretended everything was okay?"

"I honestly don't even know," you say with an exasperated sigh. "If that were me, I would've advised both of them to postpone the wedding and get extensive couples therapy. You?"

"I would've done the same thing," he replies. "They didn't seem like a great fit to me from the start. I mean, why didn't Charlie just read the book before their first date?"

"Men are the worst," you say, rolling your eyes. Jay nods in agreement. Men really do suck.

"Hopefully our night will end better than theirs."

You raise an eyebrow. "With me in a wedding dress and you bloody and bruised?"

Picturing you in a wedding dress makes his heart skip a beat.

"No," he said with a slight blush. "I hope we enjoy our food and maybe you like me enough to want to do this again."

"Let's see how the night ends first," you say coyly. "But I'm having a great time, if that's any consolation. The movie might've been bad, but the company isn't."

Jay laughs and looks down at his plate. "You say things that make me think you're flirting with me."

"What if I am?"

He looks back up at you. "Aren't I the one supposed to make you blush?"

"We still have the whole night ahead of us, Jay. There's plenty of time for that."

"I was surprised when you came up to me at the party," Jay confesses. "I'm not the type of person to just…go up to people the way you do. I thought that was cool. I didn't want to fuck tonight up."

"You could've texted me sooner," you tease, grabbing a fry from his plate. "But it's fine. I'm the kind of person who believes in fate, or whatever you want to call it. Whatever happens is supposed to happen."

"That's a beautiful way of putting it."

"Do you remember what I said to you? I could've looked you up on Instagram or ask Jake but you could've ignored me there too." Jay blushes, shutting his eyes closed. You laugh when you see him and take a sip of your chocolate milkshake.

"God, I don't know why I convinced myself that you were joking."

"Well, I actually told myself that if I saw you in person, that would mean it's worth trying again."

"Really?" You shrug.

"Yup. Simple as that. I desire many things and let fate handle the rest."

"You are…extremely poetic."

"I'm not afraid to say what's on my mind," you tell him. "I think you could learn a thing or two from me."

"I think you're the most beautiful person I've ever seen," Jay says without missing a beat. He holds your gaze, which makes his fingers twitch, but he doesn't relent. It's your turn to be bashful now and he relishes in the sight of you breaking eye contact first.

"You really flatter me, Jay."

"I'm only saying what's on my mind. It's all I've been thinking about for the past two weeks, actually. I can't seem to get you out of my head and I can't tell if that's a good or bad thing."

"It's a good thing," you say. "Definitely a good thing."

Jay pays the entire bill. Your apartment isn't very far from here, just a short seven minute drive. With you sitting in his passenger seat, he has the itch to put his palm on your thigh as some kind of silent claim, but he doesn't because the two of you haven't even kissed.

The short drive ends quickly and you make a passing comment about how the night is still young because it's Friday and you don't have anywhere to be tomorrow morning. Jay decides to push his overthinking tendencies to the side, asking if you'd want to keep hanging out while he drives aimlessly all over down. You say yes and make a joke about how much gas he'd be wasting, but he tells you he doesn't mind it if you're the one he's driving with, and that makes you blush.

It's unfathomable how comfortable Jay is with you already. It's only been one date (two, if you count when you first met), but he's already falling in deep. You talk about life like you're excited to be alive and make him feel like there's something at the end of every tunnel. He learns so much about you by listening to all the things you aren't saying and asks question after question. You do the same, making him feel like he's part of the conversation instead of focusing solely on yourself and Jay gets the sense that you really want to get to know him too. Sometimes he thinks he can talk for hours without anyone interrupting and he feels like this habit of his annoys people around him. But not you, apparently. You hang onto every word and don't interrupt him.

After a near hour of driving, Jay finds himself back at your apartment and walks you to the front door like the gentleman he is.

"I had a really great time tonight," he says, looking down at you. It's unfair how beautiful you are underneath the moonlight.

"You surprised me, Jay."

"I did?"

"Mhm. I always thought you were the lonesome, brooding type. You're intimidating, you know that? Especially when you're smoking. You look…untouchable." He laughs at that.

"Is that a good thing?" Jay asks, looking at the way your eyes travel up and down his body. His neck feels warm all of the sudden.

"It's a really good thing," you say, pushing yourself closer to Jay. "You're too cool to be in most places."

"You're one to talk. You know exactly who you are. That's intimidating."

"I don't go out with just anyone, you know. I made an exception."

"For me?"

"For you."

His eyes flicker down to your lips. He can barely believe his life. Jay must look like he's fighting some invisible urge to remain the gentleman you deserve, but you aren't having that. "Kiss me, Jay."

He does.

God, your lips are so soft. The lip gloss rubbed off an while ago but he still tastes the remnants. Jay's already lost in the feeling of your mouth on his, carefully putting both of his hands on your hips. The feeling of pure adrenaline becomes more intense when he's kissing you with his eyes closed and Jay can only feel an exhilarated jolt in his body when he realizes you're kissing him back. The kiss is as polite as it can be for two semi-horny twenty-year-old-somethings making out in the dead of night, right where anyone could see the two of you. Jay doesn't care, though, and he doesn't think you do either.

It's short-lived because you drop your keys, startling the two of you until you both pull away.

"You taste incredible," Jay says without fully thinking.

"Come upstairs with me?" You ask him in a rush, bending over to pick up your fallen keys.

"Only if you want me to."

"I do, Jay. Come in."

Jay doesn't have time to look at the decor in the living room because you're hauling him past the dark kitchen and up the stairs. You drag him in such a haste that he stumbles as he takes his shoes off, unable to place them neatly by the door. For a second, Jay's worried that the two of you will wake up your roommate, but you open your door and pull him inside with brute force that he stops thinking with his brain and starts thinking with his cock.

Your room is cute. It's very you, dark with red and purple accents with posters and artwork covering every inch of you wall in a tasteful manner. Your desk is littered with makeup, your headphones, and other miscellaneous items Jay can't make out in the dark. The window by your bed provides a bit of moonlight for him to see and he's grateful for it because he's watching you take off your shirt. Your bra is midnight black. A push up, most likely, making your chest look like a cardinal sin. Jay can't help but let his eyes drop to your tits, his eyes watching you breathe heavily.

"Fuck me," Jay whispers. It cuts through the silence of the night and he's about to apologize when you pull him by his neck until his lips are back on yours.

The two of you tumble onto your queen sized bed, effectively pulling Jay's chest to fall flush against yours. He feels you try to push off his jacket, to which he pulls his arms out before tossing it somewhere behind him, while his lips chase after your plush ones. Your hands are all over his body and Jay's horny brain prevents him from holding back like he was when the two of you were outside your front door. You're kissing him just as enthusiastically, fingers clawing at his clothing as your hands explore his chest and abdomen, making Jay recoil at your sensitive touch.

He doesn't know what to focus on. Your voice is breathy and light and your mouth tastes like an invitation to sin underneath the moonlight. Jay can barely register your tits pressing up against his chest because his dick is starting to harden in his jeans with every second that passes. Your mouth leaves his own and he holds back a pathetic whine because he wants to keep kissing you while you're underneath him, but your wet lips attach to his hot neck. He almost forgot how good it feels to be touched by somebody he's actually excited about. Sex isn't always just sex to him and he thinks there must be something fundamentally wrong with him for being unable to truly live in the moment if he isn't completely attracted to the girl he's with. Hovering above your semi-naked body with your mouth sucking on his warm skin makes him feel like his soul is on fire burning with unashamed desire.

It's hard to keep still when you're kissing him like you're desperate for him too. His fingertips itch to move your bra and panties out of the way, but he doesn't want to ruin a good thing by acting out of haste. When you pull your head back, presumably from the discomfort of craning your head at an uncomfortable angle, Jay sees his opportunity to make you feel as good as you make him feel. His mouth presses long, wet kisses along your jawline until you're moaning straight into the air and right next to his eardrum.

God. You sound divine.

You sound like a siren luring him into the deep end. He's a sailor braving the storm when he hears your song echoing from the distance, turning his ship from the traveling course to sail wherever you are. Your breathy voice and rolling hips makes his dick impossibly hard and Jay never imagined he'd ever get like this over dry humping, but you seem to take him out of his element and reward him for it.

Jay has long since stopped asking for verbal permission because he keeps getting cut off by your eager lips. Your hands have found their way to the back of his head, tugging on his soft strands the more he travels down your neck. His mouth sucks on the spot just underneath your earlobe and the euphoric tension makes your legs wrap around his body, effectively trapping him right where he wants to be. Jay would never complain about you clinging onto him like this. In fact, he wants to be as close as he possibly can with you.

Tugging on his roots causes him to groan against your skin. Your silent room makes the combination of your moans sound like something out of an amateur lewd film and it makes Jay's senses go haywire. The more you tug on his hair, the more he pushes his covered dick against the fabric of your panties. He can feel you. Jay notices the way you push your lap straight into his like you're trying to feel his cock through his denim. He savors the way your body arches deeply when his tongue licks your earlobe, making your entire body shudder to the point where Jay's arm catches you before you roll over.

"Take your shirt off," you moan with an opened mouth, moving your hands from his head to underneath the hem. Jay grunts when your manicured nails scratch down his toned abdomen. Fuck, your touch might as well send him in a spiral.

The shirt comes off and it'll live on your bedroom floor for the foreseeable future because the only thing on Jay's mind is the pure desire that emanates from your gaze. You resemble that of a hungry feline ready to pounce on your prey and Jay doesn't care that your eyes are raking all over his body. In fact, he finds it incredibly sexy that you're objectifying him like this—is it objectification if he allows it?—because it turns him on. Knowing you want him as badly as he wants you is the very on top. When it comes to you, getting his dick wet means absolutely nothing if you aren't into him too.

He's caught off guard momentarily, allowing you to push him until his back hits your mattress. Jay follows your body, watching and feeling the way you climb onto his lap like you're its rightful owner. This moment is something out of his wildest wet dream—you in a black lace bra with panties pasted onto your pussy because of how wet you've made them. Jay could only guess how turned on you were but now that he has a clear view of you, he almost can't believe you're letting him see you like this.

Jay doesn't think when he brings his thumb to nudge at your wet center. You buck your hips at that and let out this soft, airy moan that makes his cock twitch. He's sure you can feel it but he doesn't particularly care, not when you're grinding again his thumb that's rubbing you right over your covered clit.

"You're so wet," Jay groans, pushing the pad of his thumb harder against your swollen bud. "Your panties are soaked."

"You turn me on," you confess unashamed, hands coming to the button of his jeans as you try to take them off. Your long nails prove to be troublesome, though. Jay chuckles at your frustration and unbuttons his pants as you lift off of him until he's able to push them down far enough to reveal his boxers and the hardened outline of his dick.

His jeans sit uncomfortably halfway down his legs but Jay can't bring himself to care when you're looking down at his lap like his cock is a piece of mean. Did you mean to lick your lips or was that a natural response? You marvel at it for a short moment before crawling your way back up until your clothed core drags along his boxers and for the first time in a while, he doesn't have to rely on his hand or a spare toy to get him off.

Feeling your warmth is enough to get Jay's blood pumping even harder. He feels the metronome that is his heartbeat pounding in his ears when your hands roam around his naked chest, feeling every ridge and dip his abdomen and pecs have to offer. You run your fingertips over his nipples and Jay visibly shudders at that, to which you smile wickedly and laugh like you find him amusing. Your hips don't stop moving either, slowly grinding your panties over his boxers as if you've decided to take your sweet time with him compared to when you latched your mouth onto his neck like a leech.

Every drag of your hips brings him closer to Heaven. Jay's grateful he's sober for two reasons: he'd probably cum in his pants the second he saw you in your bra and the feeling of your hand repositioning his dick in your boxers so that your clit can rub over his tip is sensational. Jay's never fucked a girl who was so intentional before. He's familiar with putting on this persona of the guy who wants to take care of every girl he sleeps with (that's true for the most part) but his heart isn't in it half the time. But you…you know exactly what you want and you aren't afraid to take it. It's what he's grown to like about you over the course of his date with you and Jay's experiencing what that's like right now.

"Drag your pussy over me like you mean it," he grunts, bringing his hands to your body as if to guide you in a steady rhythm.

"Fuck," you curse. "This feels so fucking good."

"Your body's phenomenal," he groans like it's a confession he wants you to hear. "Why have you been hiding these pretty tits from me?"

You laugh at him, arching your back to give his face a full view of your chest. "You like these?"

"I love them," he replies, digging his fingertips into your flesh. "Makes me wanna see them with your bra off."

You comply like the deviant you are, expertly unhooking your bra and tossing it somewhere onto your bed. Jay almost drools at the sight of your erect nipples, licking his lips involuntarily. You look like a beautiful, demonic succubus straight from the deepest pits of hell meant to seduce Jay. He'd gladly sell his soul if that means he gets to be the only one to experience you like this.

Watching you from below might as well be the last thing he sees before he dies. Your tits look phenomenal as they bounce the more you drag your covered pussy over his lap. The soiled fabric must feel so good against your bare, wet pussy because you're moaning like your life depends on it. Your vocal moans bring him closer and closer to the edge he's trying not to peer over, but you make it hard when you look and sound like that. Sexy beyond compare. Jay's pictured this exact moment every single night as his hands cup his dick without him realizing it most times. He finds that his body responds to yours in ways it's never responded to anyone before and at this rate, he's let his cock do the thinking for him. Every single rational thought he's had about being a gentleman tonight has been thrown out of your window, never to be seen again.

Jay yanks you down by your neck and pushes your lips with his own until your tongues collide and smash against one another. The wet spit makes the whole affair that much more erotic, especially when Jay's bending his legs and lifting them up and thrust his covered dick right against your panties, paying no mind to the fact that his jeans are technically caught at his ankles. You two must look like two desperate people rutting your laps against one another, if he had to guess. Fuck it. It feels so good. Grinding into you like this makes him feel like he's in a quick haste. He wishes he could do more, like peel your clothes off and kiss every inch of your skin until he memorizes what your body tastes like, but you're both too far gone to think about that right now. You moan hotly against his lips and push your tongue against him harder like you're trying to get underneath his skin. It's working and Jay grabs your ass cheeks, gripping onto your meaty flesh while he moans and thrusts his hips like a wild bull.

"I'm close, Jay. Fuck, keep doing that and you'll make me cum," you moan, grinding your ass back onto him. The way the tip of his cock hits your wet patch is indescribable. He wishes he could feel that with his raw cock instead.

"You feel me like that? The way my dick pushes against you?" Jay grunts, bucking his hips. "This is just a preview. I'm going to fuck your pussy until you crave me when I'm gone."

"Yes, fuck!"

"Gonna fuck that drooling pussy of yours." Something about one particular thrust makes you yelp, making you cling onto him like your life depends on it. "Cum for me," Jay moans, gripping your ass tighter until you're moaning louder. "That's so hot. You're so hot."

"Cumming, cumming!"

"I'm cumming too," he grunts in short breaths.

Your covered pussy pushed against him when you come and Jay follows soon after. He feels the way his hot seed shoots straight from his slit and onto his boxers, the sticky substance rubbing against his skin with every thrust. Jay feels like a teenager coming like this but it's worth it when he looks up to see your eyes closed shut, mouth hanging open as you catch your breath and relieve yourself from the incredible high. The sweat on his forehead starts to cool when his hips thrust haphazardly against you and Jay spills the last of his semen into his pants when you drop your head to his shoulder.

The sounds of your heavy breaths fill the quiet room. Jay strokes your back when you breathe against his neck in a silent attempt to calm you down from the dirty affair, readjusting himself to let you lay your head completely on his chest. He kisses the crown of your head as you curl your fist against him and the feeling of your mouth littering soft kisses on his naked body makes his heart flutter.

However, the moment is cut short when you receive a call on your phone, startling the both of you. You yelp in his arms and his heart rate skyrockets until you're both looking at each other and laughing at the absurd juxtaposition having made each other come to an orgasm before your phone rang. Jay reluctantly lets you go, but he watches the way you turn back to look at him before answering.

"Now?" He hears you say. "What? I'm not out of breath. I just ran up the stairs, though. Okay sue, fried rice is fine. I'll see you in fifteen. Drive safe."

"Who was that?" Jay asks when you hang up the phone.

"My roommate," you reply. "I thought she was gonna be out until tomorrow, but her plans changed and now she's coming home with takeout."

"Great roommate, awful timing."

You smile at him apologetically, walking towards him until you're standing in between his legs. He sits on the edge of your bed and places his hands on your hips to draw you in closer to him, neck craning to look up as you bend down to give him a kiss.

"I'm sorry, Jay," you apologize. "I don't want to kick you out, but she's going to question you like she's my mother. You remember the girl Jake's talking to, right? That's her."

"She seems nice, though."

"She's the best," you say with a smile against his mouth. "She's my best friend and she's really protective over me. I don't really want her first time meeting you to be like, well…this."

"We've met before, though?"

"Yeah, but not as the guy I'm seeing." Jay feels his heart bounce against his chest. He likes the sound of that.

"Don't worry about it," he says, rubbing the pads of his thumbs over your skin. "I had a great time tonight. The date and the sex."

"I can't believe we dry humped on my bed," you giggle, looking down at his naked torso. "You're really hot, Jay."

"You're hotter," he says, kissing you again. "I should probably get dressed, huh?"

You pout. "I don't want you to go."

"I don't want to go either, but your friend is coming back." Jay pecks your lips and pushes you to the side to grab his discarded clothes and to fix his pants. His come is sticky in his boxers but there's no time for him to clean himself up, so he decides he'll brace the uncomfortable drive home.

"Stop being such a green flag," you grumble cutely, eyebrows furrowing like you can't believe he has the audacity to be respectful.

"You're so cute," he admits without thinking, leaning down to kiss you again before kissing your temple.

The two of you put your clothes back on and he stumbles back down the stairs, pretending like his legs aren't jello from humping you ten minutes ago. Jay becomes a happier version of himself when you walk him to his car and he kisses you one last time, his hand cupping the back of your neck to keep you in place. He leaves soon after that, watching the way you touch your lips and smile to yourself in the rear view mirror.

You're so cute.

✧･ﾟ─────────── ✧･

Despite that incredible night, exams get in the way of spending alone time together.

The two of you hang out on campus more than not after realizing the pathway to your classes overlap. Jay doesn't mind these innocent run ins (that have turned into intentional dates spending time with one another) because he learns more about you the more you talk. And the more you talk, the deeper he falls.

There's something about the way you carry yourself. You embody confidence that makes Jay want to kiss you all over and let everybody know you're with him. They probably do, since the two of you have graduated to holding hands in public (so much so that Heeseung and Jake have since started teasing him for it). Life feels better with you in it. Jay's never been the kind of person who lives for other people, but you're a welcome presence that feels like a steady addition to his life instead of a burden. He wakes up in the morning looking forward to hearing your every thought until your lungs burn from talking so much. He could listen to your voice forever. And you listen to him too, letting him drone on and on about everything and nothing at the same time. The conversations don't feel forced or make him feel like he's supposed to be interested for the sake of being polite.

Everything happens for a reason, right? People fall into place when the universe aligns or some shit like that. That's what Jay thinks when he's high out of his mind, sitting on his bed as he watches anime on his TV. He's been having more of these sentimental epiphanies lately. It's like his mind focuses on the positives instead of what obstacles he has in front of him. He used to think you were a welcomed distraction, but now he thinks you're actually a perfect complement.

There's no stress with you. Jay lets himself fall deeply through your intuitive nature and all the subtle things he picks up. He loves that you're more considerate than you give off, always taking the temperature of the room and thinking before you speak. You're loud, animated, and entirely too whimsical to ever peak in university. You've got a million stories to tell him and he learns so much about you with every anecdote that passes through your lips. Jay notices how guarded you are and can't help but feel so special that he's an exception to this condition. It almost feels like he's in the inner circle, but the payoff has less to do with access to you and more to do with the fact that he's watching you grow softer. It's as if you're allowing yourself to fall for him too.

He'd never rush or make you choose him when you aren't ready. Jay's the kind of person who adapts and takes things for what they are instead of trying to find the deeper meaning when there is none. You're so delicate in Jay's eyes. He's stopped overthinking with you and started taking initiative for things like holding your hand or suggesting things to do when the two of you aren't getting stoned or studying. He tries not to look at you when he sees you blushing, but it's hard to ignore how cute you look when you're trying (and failing) to pretend you aren't affected by Jay's ability to read your mind. He's developed this canny ability to read you like an open book. It's adorable to see you opening up to him in ways you don't with other people.

The four-day weekend is exactly what Jay needs.

Something about a student-led event followed by a national holiday. It doesn't matter. Jay has no interest in keeping up with student life nor did he care about it in the first place, but he's grateful for it this year because that means getting to spend more time with you. On Thursday, the two of you spent the entire day at the aquarium whilst high on edibles. On Friday morning, he paid for breakfast. Now it's Saturday evening and your excuse for knocking on his door at nine in the evening is because apparently, your best friend and Jake were planning on hooking up at your place and forgot to tell you.

You come to Jay's apartment naturally. You say this to him like it's a no-brainier before he could ask you why Jake hadn't invite your friend over instead because he hates making people feel like they have to go the extra mile to get what they want. But you laugh, already a bit high from an edible you had taken earlier, and ask him to roll a joint to share. Either way, the two of you will be alone and it doesn't really matter the location, your place or his. It starts to make sense the second Jay's high kicks in because he's noticing the fact that you're wearing a shirt that lets him know you aren't wearing a bra.

His mind wanders and he thinks about all the selfies you've sent him where your tits are clearly on display. Somewhere along the way, you've graduated from sending photos of yourself to pictures of your body like you're trying to entice him. It always works, especially when the photo is just shy of a proper nude. He thinks it's sexier that way and he's grown enough confidence to send you things as a thank you, including shirtless photos, dick prints, and pictures of himself after getting out of the shower. He'd like to think you're using these to get off, imagining what you'd look like shoving your fingers inside of your pussy. Jay pictures your toes curling and eyebrows pinching when that final thrust makes you come, your free hand scrolling through all of the suggestive photos he's sent you as you orgasm.

It comes to a head one night when he received a picture of your ass when he asks you about the color of your nails since you had mentioned an appointment earlier that day. God. It looks just as plush as it does in real life. One of your hands cups your ass cheek, your perfectly manicured nails on display right next to your perfect ass. Jay grows rock hard in record time, his dick swelling in his sweats until he pulled it down just enough to reveal himself. He sat in the middle of his bed with his back against the headboard, one hand stroking himself as the other holds his phone so that he could stare at the image. Tugging on himself wasn't enough. Jay wanted you to be the one to do it. Dry humping can't be how far the two of you go. Imagining himself burying his face in your ass is what compels him to record a video of himself finishing, angling his dick towards his chest as he comes everywhere as he moans your name. He sends it to you without thinking and you call a minute later. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to realize the two of you ended up having phone sex.

And well, Jay is a man after all. This is all he can think about as you're sitting next to him on the very couch you sat on when he first met you. It doesn't help that he's high, which is making him laser focused on the image of you grinding on top of him.

With the ceiling fan turned on and Jake out of the house, Jay doesn't bother stepping outside to light his joint. Not that Jake would mind. Matter of fact, it does something to Jay's psyche knowing you're smoking his stuff and getting high off of it too. It makes him feel like he has some invisible claim on you, even if you're getting high with other people. He'd rather not think about that.

"What do you wanna watch?" Jay asks after blowing out a puff of smoke. He passes the joint to you as you sift through the abundance of movies and television shows, aimlessly scrolling past them without giving it too much thought.

"I'm in the mood to watch something supernatural," you say. He watches you look at his TV intently. "Have you ever watched Castlevania?"

"Can't say I've ever heard of it."

You turn your head like what he's said is completely outrageous. "You're lying."

"Sorry to disappoint."

"I need a hit after hearing that." You laugh, making Jay want to physically melt into the couch as if his skin and bones are made of butter. You inhale the smoke like a professional and tuck your legs underneath your body to make yourself more comfortable on his couch.

"Is it that good?"

"Jay, it's like, the best show I've ever watched. It's about this guy named Trevor—who comes from a long line of monster hunters, fighting Dracula because his wife was accused of being a witch and burned at the stake. Everyone's a vampire. It's sexy."

"You like the dark and supernatural, don't you?"

"It's only the best genres ever, Jay." You take another hit from the joint. "What kind of things do you like to watch?"

"Sports, mostly. I could get into a thriller every now and then. I'm more of a music person, honestly. I don't watch a lot of movies or TV."

"Hm," you hum. "You'll have to show me what kind of music you listen to someday."

"Yeah," Jay replies with his eyelids focusing on your pretty lips. "You should come over when I'm not stoned out of my mind so I could show you my records. I feel like a limp noodle right now."

"I'd really like that. I have a few vinyls but I don't have a record player. I should bring some over."

"I'll bet you have great taste in music."

"Duh," you say playfully, smoking from the joint. "We don't have to watch Castlevania if you aren't into it. I'm sure I can find something else."

Jay shakes his head. "I'd love to see what kind of things you're into." You turn towards him and cock your head to the side.

"Yeah?" Jay nods and you smile at him like you're amused. Maybe the marijuana is making him lost his mind more than it usually does. In actuality, this is how Jay feels when he's with you, stoned or sober.

It's really hard to focus on the screen in front of him when you're sitting so close. It started at a respectable distance with his arm resting by his sides. The last thing Jay wants to do is make you uncomfortable in any way, especially because he knows you're high. It's the first time you're hanging out at his place without a bunch of other people here too. The two of you are alone with nothing but the sound of Castlevania echoing in his living room and the lingering scent of marijuana in the air despite an opened window and the fan above.

Halfway through the episode, you make a comment about how cold it's gotten since you first arrived and Jay's quick to get on his feet and retrieve a spare blanket from his room. He drapes it over you like you're something precious he wants to tuck into bed, which makes you laugh, and Jay swears he could listen to you make that sound every day without getting tired of it. Just as he's about to sit down, you open the blanket and tell him it's big enough to share, and Jay's smart enough not to tell you he's actually overheating like a furnace because his body runs warm. He'd gladly let trickles of sweat collect on his forehead if that means getting to be next to you without a barrier holding him back.

It's difficult to pretend he hasn't been half-hard ever since he watched you take your first puff. Jay was somewhat grateful that you got cold enough for him to throw a blanket over you and even more grateful that you insisted on sharing it with him. You must be doing this on purpose, right? Or is this all in Jay's mind?

It doesn't really matter. Not when you're sliding to the floor, kneeling in front of him.

Jay almost feels sorry for you. Your favorite show is playing but your back is turned to it in favor of staring at the tent that's forming in his pants. These cursed grey sweats. Yeah, maybe he chose to wear them because he knows girls go crazy for dick prints. His mind wandered to the night you bounced yourself on his clothed lap until you came and didn't seem to mind that he was rutting himself against your covered pussy. Driving home was pure torture for him but he didn't want to overstay his welcome, especially with your roommate coming home.

So, yeah. Sue him. Jay isn't so naive to think you wouldn't have paid any attention to him with these particular pair of sweatpants on. In fact, you seem to look at him like you're hungry, barely paying attention to the way he's staring down at you like he's nervous for what you'll say or do.

You catch him off guard when you nuzzle yourself straight into his lap. He nearly jumps at the contact of your nose against his dick, feeling the way you drag it up before using your lips to feel him beneath the sweats. You're slow with your movements, kissing your way from his base to the tip, feeling the way he twitches against your touch. He's caught halfway, somewhere between embarrassed and shameless as he watches you push your face right into his lap. Jay's imagined what you giving him a blowjob more times that he can count and he's had so many wet dreams of you jerking him off with your hands instead of his own. But he never quite pictured you to be the kind of girl who truly savors her time. Maybe it's because you're both high or maybe, just maybe, you like him, but Jay can hardly believe you're pushing your face into his cock without taking his pants off.

He's starting to think you're way freakier than he could've ever imagined. It's making him horny.

Eventually, your fingers hook on the band of his pants. Jay gets the hint and lifts himself off of the couch just enough for you to completely pull the fabric off of him, letting them pool to his ankles before helping him step out of them completely. He doesn't know what you do with them as he's far too excited, if that isn't completely evident by the way his dick starts to stand at attention. He's on his way to being the hardest he's ever been, he thinks. You eye him like you're hungry and you might as well be drooling because you're licking your lips at the sight of his flushed tip.

Jay doesn't know what to expect. It's been a while since he's been this turned on and watching you arch your back and pucker your lips just to press the softest kiss to his tip makes his entire body shiver. He's masturbated while high a million times before and knows what kinds of things make him tick and reach his orgasmic peak quickly. It's different with other people, though, and much different with you.

You've managed to catch Jay by surprise in more ways than one. He's confident when it comes to his music and walking through life without thinking everybody who remotely looks in his general direction has it out for him, but when it comes to girls, he doesn't think he's as experienced as Jake. Yes, he's had sex and short flings before, but they've never held any merit to what he wants in life. Jay doesn't see the use in wasting his time having mediocre hookups or entertaining people because they clearly think he's the hot loner who looks sexy when he's high (which was the case of his last hookup and the reason why he swore off of sleeping with random girls he meets at parties Jake forces him to go to).

You seem to be the complete opposite of anyone he's ever met before. You're like him in some ways—paying no mind to outside opinion. Even prior to meeting you, he's seen the way you carry yourself when you walk and how you treat people like they're a close friend even if you've just met them. He felt that way the night he properly met you for the first time and it caught him by surprise when you admitted to being serious about wanting him to text you. In a way, it's almost like you're pursuing him, even though you aren't. All you're doing is asking him to hang out and he's saying yes like a puppy who follows its owner wherever she goes. In fact, Jay wants you more than you could ever imagine. It's just that, well, you're very fucking beautiful and he's afraid he'll mess it up if you found out how often he imagines you laying in his bed stuffed full with his semen.

That, and he's scared of what you'll think if he ever admits that he'd like to take you out for breakfast after he fucks you.

"You're bigger than I thought," you say in a near whisper. Jay twitches at that and you let out a breathy laugh. It hits his skin and he tilts his head back as it teases him.

"You can't just say things like that," says Jay, looking back down at you. "You're going to kill me someday."

"Death by orgasm. Doesn't sound too bad."

"You don't know how good you look right now."

"Oh, I think I do," you say confidently, pushing your head forward to lick his slit, to which he hisses. "I know I look good sucking dick, Jay. I'm really good at it too. Do you want to see what I can do?"

"You're an evil person," he says without thinking. But you laugh like you enjoy seeing him in such agony, knowing your warm and wet mouth is almost where he needs you the most.

"Give me the joint." Jay hands it to you, watches as you inhale some of it, and feels his eyes nearly roll to the back of his head when you exhale right on his cock.

Your mouth follows soon after. Without using your hands, you dip your head until your mouth catches his tip to envelope it into your mouth, letting his velvety texture become familiar with your tongue. You're intentional with your movements as if you're really trying to savor the feeling of his hardening dick as you push him inside little by little. Because the apartment is empty, Jay can be a little louder with his moans than usually. When he knows Jake's home, Jay shoves a pillow over his face to drown the sound of his deep, breathy moans to avoid an awkward encounter with his best friend once he's finished. He should be embarrassed that he's already making all kinds of sounds the more you get his dick wet, but he doesn't care. Not when this feels so fucking divine.

Curse your shorts. When he looks down and past your mouth on his dick, he looks at your plush ass as you arch your back to fully grasp him. Jay wishes he could reach down and take that stupid fabric off of your body and he supposes he could if he really wanted to, but the tone you've set is far more sensual than how he'd like to have you. He isn't picky, though. He'd rather endure your slow, sensual torture than scare you off by putting his dick inside of you right off the bat.

Your tight mouth takes him inch by inch at a snail's pace, but there more be a method to your madness because you make him wetter with each push and pull of your head. You periodically remove yourself from him to smoke from the joint before the leaf completely burns until you become tired of not being able to use your hands. Jay takes it from you and inhales a long, satisfying puff. It settles into the depths of his lungs and when your free hand cups his balls, his head tilts back and the smoke rises as he blows it out.

You're the devil reincarnate. Or you're a demon who's wickedly good with her tongue. Maybe you're some kind of angel whose sole purpose is making him come. Jay doesn't really know what you are, but he knows you know exactly what you're doing with his mouth. He doesn't want to think about how many people have experienced this side of you before because he'd rather pretend he's the only person you've ever treated like this.

The high is pure ecstasy. Jay looks down to see your beautiful mouth wrapped up in his cock, head pushing yourself down on his long, girthy dick until your mouth stretches around it. He loves that you aren't neglecting his sack either, rolling them between your fingers until it makes his toes curl. You hum in pleasure when he moans after your index finger traces the seam, making something shoot up his spine when you do. His thighs flex underneath your touch and he sees himself glistening with how much drool is coming from your lips. It makes the glide easier and he feels the way your throat constricts around him every time you push yourself further down.

The sight of his dick completely disappearing inside of your throat is fucking sinful. You push your nose against his pelvis until your choking around him and the gagging sound makes his balls tense up. Jay tries not to drop the joint and considers finding a nearby ash tray to put it out just to avoid accidentally dropping it onto the couch or, God forbid, you. Spit completely falls from the corners of your mouth but you don't give up either. He groans loudly and uses his free hand to stroke your head as if he's using you as an anchor.

"Oh my God," Jay moans. "Your mouth is so fucking tight. Fuck, you like to deep throat?"

You pull yourself off of him, not bothering to wipe any of the drool from your mouth. He watches the way the spit connects from his tip to your tongue before you break the chain to stroke him some more and it nearly puts him into a coma.

"I can do a lot more than that," you tell him. It's like you're trying to remain playful while simultaneously wanting to show him just what you can do. And fuck, Jay's more than willing to let you do whatever you want to him.

"Oh yeah?" Jay asks coyly. "What else can that mouth of yours do?"

You don't answer him with words. Instead, you lift his cock with your hands and bow your head until you're spitting leftover drool from deep throating him right onto his balls. He hisses when the warmth hits his most sensitive area and his next moan comes somewhere from deep within him. The surface of your tongue licks it up until you're lapping at him like a kitten drinking milk. He feels the pass of your wet muscle over and over again while your hand has started to move in tandem with your mouth, stroking him while you work on his balls.

He doesn't think he's ever experienced a girl pleasing him like this. Jay's has blowjobs in the past, but it always felt like the girls he'd sleep with viewed blowjobs like it was a chore to thank him for going down on them first. With you, Jay gets the sense that you like giving blowjobs and playing with his dick because it turns you on, not because you think it turns him on. God, he's so attracted to the fact that you don't really care about anyone but yourself. That's not completely true, and he knows it, but your ability to chase after what you want without caring what other people thinks turns him on more than seeing you sucking him off (which is a lie, Jay is so fucking horny).

"Holy shit," Jay curses under his breath. He shoves the tip of the joint in his mouth and savors the feeling of that initial inhale. He groans when the smoke leaves his mouth. "You're so fucking good at this. Treating my dick so well. Fuck."

You moan against his balls, rewarding him by pushing against him even harder and squeezing his cock at the same time. Your hand is so wet and the sound that echos the room sound better than Jay could've ever imagined. His own hand doesn't do him justice, not even when he gathers enough spit to pretend his palm is your warmth mouth as he fucks into his fist like his life depends on it.

His moans seem to motivate you to make him come faster because your mouth trails from his wet and swollen sack right back to his cock. Your hand hold him by the base before angling your mouth right over him and pushing his dick past your lips. Unlike before, you aren't slow with it. Instead, your head's moving at a faster rate until he feels the gentle scrape of your teeth along his sensitive veins and the way your tongue moves in a circle every time your reach his hip. He grunts every single time it passes against his slit and feels the pressure building in his balls as if he could finish at any moment, but he tries his best to keep going steady because he wants to draw this out for as long as humanly possible.

It's beautiful how your throat accommodates his cock. With your mouth completely stuffed the more you push your head down onto his exceptionally hard dick, you choke and gag without stopping. Jay feels fucking invincible right now.

"What a good mouth," he moans, legs widening as he slouches from how good you're making him feel. "You feel so fucking good around me. Your mouth is so tight and wet, fuckkk. Squeeze my balls too—yes, just like that. Shit, you're gonna make me cum soon. I'm so fucking close."

You moan around him and renders Jay completely fucking useless because of how good that vibration feels. He bucks his hips until the tip hits the back of your throat involuntarily but you don't stop your ministrations. You keep your fast pace as you squeeze his sack in your hands, letting the drool coat them as you push him closer to his climax. He thinks about cumming straight down your throat but thinks that might be a little too much for the first time you're blowing him. Would finishing on your face be more appropriate? Every single open seems more lewd than the next, but he can't deny that he'd like to see what you look like with his semen splashed all over your pretty cheeks and lips.

"I wanna cum on your face," he moans, fighting the urge to fuck your throat like he'd fuck your pussy. "I want to drown you in my cum."

You pull off from his mouth and use both of your hands to jerk him off with his tip angled right at your beautiful face. "Cum for me. Make a mess on my face."

"Fuck, you'd let me?" You nod rapidly.

"Cum on my fucking face, Jay. I want it so bad."

You don't have to tell him twice. When he feels his balls twitch for the last time, Jay's cum shoots from his slip and hits your cheek first. His semen splashes everywhere—your lips and across your nose—as he moans, holding tightly onto the joint to prevent it from falling. It's a wonder he's able to preserve it as he comes, his hips jerking as a consequence to the intense high as he climaxes all of your face. You take it like a fucking champ, too, smiling with your eyes closed as you feel his warm come seep right onto your face. You truly are a freak if you love this feeling. You're even laughing. Jay's never seen anything hotter in his entire life.

"Fuck me," he curses as his cock softens. He takes a short drag from the joint and stares at the beautiful mess on your face, nearly choking on it when he sees your tongue dart out of your mouth to lick the cum that has landed on the corners of your mouth. "You're a fucking fein. A fein for my cum, or something." You laugh again, scooping what's on your cheek with your fingers before sucking on them. "Yeah, you really know how to make a guy feel good. Stay right there. Let me clean you up."

Jay feels terrible and leaving you in his living room on your knees with his come all over your face, but he'd rather soak a wash cloth in warm water than let it dry all over you. He comes back quickly after having cleaned himself up in a haste and gentle swipes the fabric until you're clean.

"I have face wash if you want to use it," Jay says as he wipes the corner of your eye. "I don't want my come staining your gorgeous face."

"You're so thoughtful, Jay," you reply. The sincerity in your voice is a complete turnaround from your lewd acts just a few minutes prior. It makes something swell within his soul because he's suddenly picturing his future looking like this domestic, wonderful bliss with moments of eroticism.

You take him up on his offer and make a comment about how this expensive the face wash is. Jay's mom got him an entire line of skincare for Christmas and he's a bit reluctant to admit that his skin looks so much better now that's he's actively taking care of it. You reassure him, letting him know that there's nothing hotting than people being self sufficient and caring for themselves before swiping the face wash all over your face. It takes you a good minute to completely rid yourself of his come. Jay leans against the door frame with his hands crossed over his chest, smiling like an idiot at how domestic this all feels.

Call him crazy, but Jay's the type of person to fall fast. He's learned lessons the hard way, which typically entails falling for people who don't feel the same way about him, but spending time with you makes him think otherwise. Jay realizes you enjoy getting to know him too and you never silence him when he apologizes for talking so much. There's an equal balance of talking and listening on both ends, something Jay wishes he could achieve with every person he meets. He hates getting his hopes up just for things to fall through. It doesn't matter if it's a friendship or a relationship because it's mostly the same to him. He hates people who aren't honest and deceptive. College is the time to experiment and figure out who you are, sure, but Jay has always known that he's the kind of guy who values loyalty and transparency above all else.

Despite his best efforts, Jay manages to fall for you every time he holds himself back. Vulnerability is a hard thing to come by and he's more scared of being honest about himself than he lets on. It's scary to open his heart and share parts of himself to people who aren't guaranteed to stay forever. That's part of life, but it gets to a point where being vulnerable means getting his heart stomped all over in the name of having "fun." But it's not fun for Jay and he's as honest as they come. He'd rather be alone for the rest of his life than entertain people who don't have his best interest in mind, especially when they tell him they care about him but don't mean it.

Perhaps his general nonchalance about what other people are doing intimidates those who have deep seeded insecurities that can only be fixed by pretending to be someone they aren't. Jay has this crazy theory that probably isn't true aside to feed his own ego, but his friends have said he's a mirror. He reflects every beautiful and ugly trait right back to others, forcing people to confront who they are in the midst of standing right next to Jay, who accepts himself for who he is, faults and all. He's learned that people don't typically like it when they're reminding of things they'd rather forget. Jay is as open as they come, willing to experience things for a good story to look back on or learn from past mistakes. Learning how other people aren't as keen on growing into a better version of themselves made the world look absolutely bleak and meeting new people makes Jay weary from the get go.

Despite his brain telling him to be extra cautious, he can't help but give all of himself to you. Every conversation pulls him deeper into dangerous territory but for the first time in a while, Jay isn't so scared of the unknown. Even if, God forbid, this ends in heartbreak, Jay doesn't think he'll crumble into a hollow version of himself. He'd be sad, but he'd be content knowing he gave it a shot. The act of trying is better than being held back by fear.

The two of you smoke some more and restart the first episode at Jay's request and when his hand inches towards your lap to return the favor, you intertwine your fingers with his and kiss him on the lips. We've got all the time in the world, but I really want you to watch this first. You can eat me out afterwards, you say, smiling against his mouth before kissing him again. How could Jay say no to that? Besides, his brain is short-circuiting after receiving the most mind bending blowjob he's ever had in his life. A guy needs to recover from such an experience. The fact that you, someone who refrains from physical touch, is actively clinging onto his arm and cuddling against his side is far better than anything he could've ever hoped for.

He becomes engrossed in Castlevania and the two of you end up watching another episode. Jay glances down at you every once in a while and can't help but play with your fingers the more he watches the television. All of this feels so incredibly domestic and Jay has to force himself to stop smiling because he thinks you'll view him like a lovesick idiot. Maybe he is.

✧･ﾟ─────────── ✧･

"Do you want me to pick you guys up?" Jay asks on speakerphone as he fixes his hair with a little bit of styling gel.

"No, we're gonna split an Uber. No use coming when I'll see you anyway."

"You know I don't mind," he says casually.

"I know, baby. That's real sweet of you, but don't worry about it."

"You could spend the night and I can drive you back tomorrow morning, if you want. So you don't have to spend more money."

"Oh, Jongseong, do you want me to spend the night?"

"Of course I do," he says with a smile on his face as he hears you laugh. "I always want to spend time with you."

"You…Are such a little shit. Don't make me blush on the phone."

"Let me pick you up so I can make you blush in person."

"You two are disgustingly cute," your friend says from beside you. "Like, I've never seen her act so cutesy before."

"She's so cute when she's trying to be tough."

"That's true," says your friend. "But remember, she was mine first, okay?"

"Of course," Jay replies, "I'd never get in the way."

"Good! We'll be at your place in thirty."

"See you soon, Jay," you tell him before hanging up the phone.

You come in wearing the most gorgeous dress with golden accents all over your body. Jay can hear you before he sees you because your bracelets smack against one another every time you move and he thinks that's the sexiest thing a woman could ever do. Unlike the first time he met you, he isn't afraid to pull you by the waist and join your little parade as you walk around to greet every person you know, taking shot after shot along with the joint Jay's passing around to anyone who asks.

When you finally register Jay's presence beside you, it doesn't take a rocket scientist to see the way you're eyeing him like a piece of meat. His biceps are on display along with a nasty stack of rings that make him look like walking sin. There's something about Jay tonight that makes him look extra delectable and you're looking at him like you'd pounce if there weren't so many people around. You almost parade him around like he's arm candy or another accessory for your outfit. Even Jake, who usually has to force Jay to put a little effort into coming out of his bedroom, nods in approval.

You only leave his side for ten minutes when a girl you know is asking you to help her redo her eyeliner in the bathroom, apologizing to Jay before skipping off to help her. He doesn't mind, though. In fact, he loves that you're eager to help others and make yourself available for people who politely ask for your help. You're considerate and generous like that.

"You guys look cozy," Jake says, bumping his elbow against Jay's forearm. "I can't believe you actually wanted to come out of your room tonight."

"I only come if the company's good," Jay retorts, bringing his cup to his mouth.

"Hey!" The two of them share a laugh. "She's good for you, Jay. You light up every time she walks in the room."

"That's the corniest thing you could've ever said to me."

"It's true though. I know you, man. You need to get to know somebody before you like them and you like her. You'd be crazy not to ask her out officially."

"I was planning out asking her to be my girlfriend on our next date," Jay confesses. "She loves mini golfing and she's extremely casual about a lot of things. Hates fancy dinners and making a big show of things. I wanted to ask her when we get food, or something."

"That doesn't sound super romantic."

"Trust me, it is," Jay says. "She's the kind of person who can appreciate big gestures, but I know she loves it even more when people pick up on the small thing. She hates being the center of attention even if that's where she ends up, so I know she'd appreciate if I asked her casually. I mean, it's not casual, but it's not over-the-top, you know?"

"I totally get it," Jake says with a nod. "What's meaningful to her is more important than looking 'romantic.'"

"Exactly. Don't get me wrong, though. I'll wine and dine her as long as she lets me."

"I'm sure she'd appreciate that."

"But for now, I know she's got a lot on her plate and the last thing she needs is something to stress her out even more. She'd probably say no if I made a whole show of it."

"You're so attentive and I think that's probably why we're friends," Jake says, patting his friend on the shoulder. "You'll be a great boyfriend."

"This is oddly mushy."

"Yeah, it feels weird not to bicker with you." Jay tilts his head back and laughs when he sees you walking out of the bathroom.

"Are you boys up to no good?" You ask, leaning against the wall to look at the both of them.

"Depends what you mean by 'no good,'" Jake teases, raising his eyebrows at Jay before snickering to himself.

"Does he know something I don't?"

"No."

"Yes."

"Okay…" You trail off, squinting your eyes before laughing. "Whatever it is, I don't want to know unless I need to know."

"You're in good hands," Jake says, nodding at you before making an excuse to leave. He winks at Jay when you aren't looking and leaves to find your friend.

"Jake Sim is a weird motherfucker," you say against your cup. "But he's harmless, right?"

"As harmless as they come. I think he likes riling me up."

"We all do."

Jay laughs too. "You look beautiful tonight.

"I look hot, don't I?"

"I'm trying to be respectful here."

You kiss his cheek. "You are such a gentleman, Jongseong. But you don't need to be like that thing me all the time. I think we've crossed that line ages ago."

Well, shit. His cock might as well be stirring in his pants now that you've given him the mental image of all the times he's seen you naked.

"You look hot and I'm going to fuck you when you're ready to leave," he says in a low murmur, his voice steady like it's something he's something he's been thinking about all day. You press a small kiss to his jawline.

"I can't wait."

The two of you could technically make a break for his bedroom, but you're clearly having a lot of fun drinking with your friends and sharing Jay's joint with everyone who wants a hit. Jay, too, is enjoying himself for the first time in a while now that he recognizes some of the party goers. It's easy to have fun when the people he's surrounded with seem to want to talk to him too. You clue him in on inside jokes and he has the time of his life playing bartender, mixing drinks for strangers with the very limited knowledge he has after one summer bartending because he was bored. He's a hit with everyone who wants alcohol and he gets extra bonus points for having a stack of joints readily available in his pocket when the one he smokes runs out. It pays to be a man with marijuana and a lighter.

Jay's newfound role has garnered a lot of attention. From girls specifically, since tonight there seems to be double the amount of people than usual. Jay doesn't really pay much attention since he's too busy peeking at you from the corner of his eye, sending a wink your way with every drink he serves. You, however, have gravitated closer towards the bar station every single time a girl comes up to him to strike up a conversation or worse—touching his arm while trying to play it off as something casual. He'd shrug it off, of course. The only girl he wants is you.

You make haste and appear by his side in record time, handing off drinks like you're being paid to do it. Jay doesn't miss the way you squeeze your way in between himself and a stranger trying to fish for attention. It's kind of hot that you've pushed her away with the touch of your hip, barely intruding while smiling politely like you've done nothing wrong. He would've said something before you got there. It's not like the two of you haven't been draped all over each other all evening, so really, everyone here should know he's off limits.

Jay isn't oblivious to the sudden switch of your mood every time a girl comes up to him.

It's funny to think that a month earlier, girls usually pursued Jake. Jay knows he comes off as this aloof, barely-there kind of guy, like someone too intimidating to pay attention to for the fear of failing. He's the embodiment of the classic rock star: wickedly good at guitar and an attitude that screams do not fuck with me. Jake is an easygoing, open kind of guy. He'd take any chance to make a new friend. It's part of him charm, but it's not one he shares with Jay.

You're a very sweet person. Blunt? Yes, but you always say it like it is and don't coddle people to make them feel better when there's no use. Jay loves that about you. He doesn't have to guess where your head is at or question your intentions because you're upfront and honest. He can count on you to tell him the truth, which is a skill most people lack. It's refreshing to meet somebody who can put her heart on the line while maintaining integrity. People tend to say one thing but disregard it's meaning until it becomes something new entirely, but not you. You're Jay's safe space whether you realize it or not.

This new emotion—jealousy?—is something new for Jay to see in you. You both have breached the threshold of being touchy the first time you dry humped in your bedroom. You've been much bolder now, but it's only escalated to grabbing his hand and letting him hold yours. There's an unspoken line that has yet to be crossed, never mind the fact that you gave him the best head of his life not too long ago.

But tonight, you're clinging onto his arm like a koala and pressing your body against his side. It's because you're wearing a tank top, you muttered in disgust as you watched yet another girl cower away underneath your gaze. They're looking at your fucking biceps. And you're letting them.

Jay is thoroughly amused. You have an edge to you, even if this is a side you don't show anybody else. From the beginning, he got the sense that you were the type of person to keep vulnerability at arm's length. But the way you're acting tonight tells him you're jealous. You, the independent and secure girl he's crushing on, feel protective of Jay and his body. Entitled, even. But it's so fucking sexy to be desired by you. It boosts his ego, sure. He's a man who thinks with his cock sometimes and you're no exception. Mostly, Jay's turned on by how much you desire him too. It isn't the attention. It's you.

He wouldn't stoop so low to exploit that. Jay would've told these girls to fuck off if you hadn't said it on his behalf. It's kind of cute, honestly. You resemble a baby lion trying to roar for the first time. To these other girls, you bark like a guard dog. He doesn't even think you know how intimidating you look when girls lower their gaze to the floor and back away from the two of you cautiously. Serves them right, honestly. Can't they see that he clearly isn't interested?

"Freaks," you mutter under your breath. "They're all freaks for coming up to you when I'm right here."

"I probably should've worn a different shirt." You shake your head, hands running from his bare shoulders down to his bicep. You give him a squeeze and he feels the tips of your nails digging into his skin.

"You look really fucking good, Jay," you all but moan.

"Did those girls bother you, baby?" Jay asks, turning to face you. He sets his drink down on the counter and cages you in between his hands.

"They should know better than to talk to you," you say without stuttering, your lips barely touching his own. "I hate that they had the audacity to think they have a chance when I'm the one you want."

"You're the one I want," Jay whispers against your lips, stealing a soft peck. The innocent sound of lip smacking makes his cock ache and he can't help but pull you closer to try and relieve even an ounce of friction.

"These freaks can go fuck themselves." God, you found so sexy when you're jealous.

"You know what I think?"

"What do you think, Jay?"

"I think that we should ditch this party and go back to my room," he says, caressing your covered ass. "We can light a joint and smoke a little. Get away from the crowd. How does that sound?"

Your eyes dart from his lips to his eyes. "Take me to your bedroom, Jay."

He's grabbing your hand without another word and hauling you off upstairs. Jake sees the two of you pass him by and gives his friend and encouraging two thumbs up, to which Jay can't help but roll his eyes but he laughs anyway. The noise from the party subsides but a little bit, but he can hear the music and the murmur of the crowd even with the door closed.

There you are, looking like absolutely devious in your short and tight dress all up in his bedroom. You've been up here a few times and take perch on his bed like you always do when Jay walks towards his nightstand and opens his drawer to pull out marijuana and rolling paper.

"I was going to do this on our mini golfing date," Jay says, busying his hands with preparing another joint. He hears you move across the bed after having kicked off your heels, knees padding until he feels you right behind him. It calms his nerves to feel your arms wrap themselves around his shoulders, mouth pressing against his ear as you little his skin in soft little kisses.

"What were you going to do?"

"Ask you out. Properly, I mean."

"Are we not already going out?"

He stills, dropping the materials from his hands to turn around and face you. God, you look so gorgeous like this. By now, he's already learned that the black makeup around your eyes make you look like a sexy feline and the scent of your almond and cherry perfume make his senses go crazy. Jay would be absolutely crazy to think you'd stick around forever if he never communicated his feelings to you. With his hands now free, Jay pulls you close by your waist.

"I wanted to ask you to be my girlfriend on our mini golfing date," he admits. "I know you're not into big gestures because it puts you on the spot and I know you hate being put on the spot. I wanted to do is casually. Maybe after the last round or whenever we left to get food. I don't want to make you feel like being with me is just sex or getting high. Or anything other than dating, really. I like you a lot. I think I have since the night we met and I don't want you to think I'm interested in other girls because I'm not. I want you."

For as much as Jay thinks he knows you, his heart pounds in his chest like a beating drum that refuses to stop. Part of being vulnerable and putting himself on the line means being honest about his feelings and to his delight, a beautiful smile graces your lips until you're leaning forward to put your mouth on his. It's a soft, simple kiss that makes his head spin and you pull away with his lovesick glint in your eyes he's never seen before.

"I'm not the best with affection but it's different when it's with you, Jay." Your arms come to wrap themselves around his neck, pulling his face impossibly close to yours. "Being with you feels right. Like I never saw you coming, you know?"

"I know," he murmurs, softly pecking your lips. "I'll make up for this shitty confession, I promise. Be my girlfriend?"

"You're so stupid, but I think you're really cute," you whisper with a smile you can't seem to contain before kissing him again. "You were right by assuming I'd want you to ask in the most casual way."

Jay lets out a strained sound from his throat. "Yeah, but a bunch of girls tried it with you tonight and basically ruined my entire plan."

"Mm okay, I'm still mad those girls clearly couldn't see we're together. But I think being honest is more important than how you ask, you know?"

"You are a fucking dream, baby," Jay says, pushing his lips harder against you until you giggle into him. "It's real cute how you got so jealous."

"I wasn't jealous."

"Territorial, then."

"Mhm," you confirm with a single nod, smiling against him. "People need to know what's mine. That's all."

"Yours?" He asks with an amused grin. "I like the sound of that. I'll be your trophy husband."

"Husband," you say, testing the word on your tongue. "Awfully sexy of you to imagine me as your wife."

"I've been imagining taking a wedding dress off of you since our first date," he confesses without shame. "I don't mind being your trophy husband."

What starts off as an innocent kiss turns into something erotic quickly with your back resting comfortably on Jay's mattress while his body's on top of yours, reminiscent of the time he first saw your apartment. The kiss grows hungrier with every moment that passes by and the inebriated haze has slightly worn off because of the stone cold, sober truth of Jay's confession. He doesn't spare you another pass at being a gentleman because he's learned that you trust enough to allow him to take whatever wants. Jay knows you'll tell him to stop if it comes to it. And in turn, he's learned that it's okay to desire someone so much that he loses control.

Jay pulls away to catch his breath and the whine that escapes your lips makes his cock jump in his pants. He laughs at your neediness and laughs again at your immediate silence when you realize he's grabbing the marijuana to roll a joint for you.

"I wanna roll one on your body," Jay says, eyelids growing heavy the more he visualizes it.

"Fuck," you moan. "I think that's the hottest thing you've ever said to me."

"Can you take your clothes off for me, baby? I want to see that gorgeous body of yours."

The music thumping from downstairs serves as the soundtrack for tonight. You make haste and get off of the bed as Jay sits on the edge with his legs open as you face him. Jay's dick hardens during his own personal strip tease and he watches the way your soft hands run all over your body like you're the devil trying to seduce him. Your fingers catch underneath the hem of your short dress but you don't take it off like he thinks you will. No, instead you reach underneath to pull off your black thong until you pull it down your legs at an agonizingly slow pace before tossing it in his lap.

What's a guy to do? Jay grabs your panties and hears that melodic laugh of yours he loves so much. He squeezes it in his hand—is that a wet patch?—while the other palms himself through his pants the more you twirl around for him, making a show out of jutting your ass out the more you sway your hips to the muffled bass from outside. When you do finally take your dress off, Jay intently watches the way you slowly expose yourself to him. His eyes rake over the first peek at your bare pussy, your torso, your tits, and finally your face as you toss the dress somewhere behind you.

"Come here," he beckons, throwing your panties to the side when you take a step closer to him. He makes room for you in between his legs, using his hands to spread your own apart until he has a view of you from the front. Jay lifts his finger to run a single digit over your folds and relishes in the way you moan from above. "Have you been wet this entire time?"

"I've been wet since our phone call."

"My poor baby," he tuts, letting his finger slowly glide against your wet lips, occasionally grazing over your clit. Jay doesn't want to miss a single thing and looks at the way you struggle to maintain eye contact with him. It's so cute and hot at the same time. He lifts his finger to show you the wet glisten before licking it clean, groaning at the first taste. "Delicious as always."

"Fuck," comes your whine. Jay feels you trembling between him.

"Come lay on the bed for me. I want your ass facing me so I can use it as a table, yeah?"

You make haste and Jay hums in satisfaction, standing to grab his materials before making his way over to you. He feels the way your eyes watch him and looks at the way you're laying comfortably on his mattress, arms tucked underneath your head like you're in some kind of blissful state of mind. You look delectable like this. Jay has half a mind to pull his cock out and push it inside of you right now since you're wet enough, but he holds himself back because in his opinion, there's nothing better that drawing out orgasm after orgasm while high.

He doesn't immediately put the paper and marijuana on your body. He lets curiosity get the better of him and allows his fingertips to drag along your upper back, tracing an invisible line down the curve of your spine before he reaches your ass. You part your legs instinctively and Jay mutters a quiet good girl that makes you clench against absolutely nothing. It's so hot. He bends down and presses a kiss to your slit and licks your arousal right off of his lips before pulling back to grab his materials, letting them rest on your back as he gets to work.

You crane your neck to watch as he focuses on rolling the joint without spilling. Jay's done this a million times, but he's never had the pleasure of fixing one on the prettiest girl he knows. It's clean and quick. He's managed not to spill any of the marijuana as he grinds it, expertly placed the leaf inside of the rolling paper, then uses his fingers to push it into place until it's snug. Jay folds the tip of the joint before pushing the excess paper down and presents you the most gorgeous, fat joint you've ever seen in your entire life.

"You can do whatever you want to me," you blurt out.

"Whatever I want?"

"If you fuck me within the next minute, yes." Jay laughs and grabs his lighter, holding it up to the end of the joint until it lights up. He takes the first hit to ensure the joint burns properly before passing it along to you, happily watching as you eagerly inhale.

"I'll fuck you real good," he promises, taking his shirt and pants off the longer you smoke. "I want to do it my way. I want you to feel that aching burn between your legs until you can't think of anything but cumming on my cock. I want you needy and desperate for me."

He takes his clothes off and feels his dick throbbing when he watches you smoke on his bed. It's a sight right out of a wet dream and he's probably thought about this exact moment a million times over, using this exact fantasy to get himself off more times than he can count. You've maneuvered onto your back and Jay marvels at your gorgeous tits when you bring the joint back up to your lips. He puts both of his knees on the bed and knocks your legs open to put his body right where it belongs, stealing the joint from your hands before smoking it again. Your mouth welcomes his exhale when he leans above you. Like clockwork, the smoke travels from his mouth right into yours and Jay feels your chest arch right against him just as your lips touch. He's careful not to drop the weed as he watches the way your eyes become more red by the second. Jay's positive his eyes look exactly the same.

"I'm gonna eat you real good," he mumbles as he drags his mouth along the column of your neck, trailing wet kisses down your skin.

The cool drag causes goosebumps to arise, making you gasp right into the open air. Jay takes his time, stealing another smoke when he makes his way to your chest and he makes a pit stop, handing you the joint before using both of his hands to cup your tits. They spill over just the way he's always pictured and he brushes his thumbs against your perky, sensitive nipples. Jay marvels at the sight the more he toys with them. He becomes entranced from the high, zeroing in on the way your tits move and spill from his fingertips. Jay pinches your nipples and relishes in the way you gasp at his touch, which makes him laugh and lean down to lick one of them.

"Perfect tits, perfect body," Jay moans, attaching his mouth to your hardened bud. His tongue rolls right over it as he makes himself comfortable between your legs, his own body relaxing with his cock sandwiched between his torso and his mattress. The sound of his lips sucking on your nipple and his hands squeezing on your chest like they're his own personal stress toys makes you moan in deep pleasure, letting the high consume you like never before.

He moves onto the neglected bud with his eyes closed, moaning around your most sensitive area. He loves how responsive you are with your quiet moans and your chest pushing against his face. Jay's mind is in a haze the longer he has his mouth on you, dick swelling with every breath he takes like his life's purpose is to kiss every inch of your skin.

Jay doesn't stick around your tits for very long, especially not with the way you're accommodating his body by spreading your legs open for him. He kisses down the valley of your breasts and reluctantly lets go of your chest to venture down your torso, dragging his lips and leaving messy wet kisses in his wake. He grabs the joint from your hands and inhales before tapping it hard against his ash tray to kill it before gripping your thighs and blowing the smoke right against your wet hole.

The sound you make is indescribable. It's somewhere between primal and desperate, especially when the forced air makes contact with your wet lips. Jay watches the way your hole twitches in anticipation and sees the way your hands grab onto your chest for stability from the corner of his eye. Your arousal drips from you like a waterfall and he hastily licks a strip up your slit. When he reaches your clit, he lets the surface drag slowly with the kind of pressure that makes your legs shake in their place, allowing his tip to flick over the sensitive bud. Jay witnesses you throwing your head back like you're starring in your very own pornography film and the view of from below makes you look like walking sex.

Jay descends with his tongue lapping at your eager pussy. He tastes every crevice and fold you hide while gripping onto your thighs to keep your legs open for him. He feels your resistance and laughs against you like this whole affair is for his entertainment only. But really, knowing he could get you to fall apart on him like this is the cherry on top. You're the most put together person he knows. Watching you lose your mind on his tongue feels like his greatest accomplishment.

"I love watching you fall apart," Jay moans against you, pushing his tongue inside of you. He hears you cry out his name and grip his hair as you tug in response to the sudden intrusion, keeping his tongue stretched out to thrust it in and out of your wet hole. It's a tight fit and he can only image what it would feel like to slide his engorged cock inside of you.

Your arousal slips and falls from the corner of his mouth along with his spit when Jay starts to grind his dick against the bedsheets. Your hips start to roll against his tongue like you're chasing your own high too. It's so hard for you to keep still and for your legs to remain on the bed, that much Jay can tell for sure. You're writhing underneath his touch despite his best efforts to keep you in place, but his pride swells with every cry and moan. Jay pushes his mouth harder against you, sucking and slurping on your folds like he's trying to eat you alive. He doesn't care if spit dribbles down his chin nor does he particularly care about keeping this ordeal clean and tidy. Unlike rolling a joint, Jay wants sex with you to be messy. He wants the nasty, filthy, horny affair to feel raw.

The high makes his skin buzz and his body feels like it's at an all time high. It feels so good to rub his bare dick against the bed, listing to the loud moans escaping from your mouth. Never mind the fact that his room isn't technically sound proof, but the music is going a great job at drowning out the sounds from his bedroom. Not that Jay would mind, of course. He doesn't think you'd care either. In fact, you'd be happy knowing other girls could hear the way Jay's making you feel.

"Fuck Jay, your tongue feels so good. How did you learn to eat pussy like this?"

He chuckles, dragging his tongue to kitten lick your clit. "You like it when I have my mouth on you?"

"Yes—fuck!"

"Mm yeah, love it when you make that sound," Jay says after he spits directly on your clit. He lets his digits trace your folds, dipping the tip of his pointer finger tip into your hole. You tense up against him but he tuts, shaking his head. "I won't have that. Open up for me, baby. Relax and let me feel you."

"S-So sensitive," you mutter.

"Already? How are you gonna take my cock?" Jay mocks, pushing his finger inside of you until you adjust around him. He can feel your pussy squeezing around him already. "I need to make sure you get a taste of what's to come. Need to watch you fall apart on my mouth and fingers."

"Fuck!"

"Yeahhh. That's right, honey. Make those pretty noises for me." The pet name makes our eyes roll to the back of your head and your grab a fistful of his blankets the faster he pumps his finger inside of you. Jay adds another finger and fucks you faster, relishing in the way you're moaning like your life depends on it. He bends his head down to lick at your clit at the same time and the sensation is overwhelmingly euphoric for the both of you. From here, Jay watches your mouth hang open and your hands clutching his bedsheets like that'll give you stability. It's so hot the way you're falling apart on him.

Your orgasm completely washes over you the longer Jay laps at your clit. He stares at you as best as he can while trying to keep you still before him, but your rolling hips make it difficult for him to focus on helping you feel out your high. He tries, though, removing his fingers from your pussy to grip your thighs so hard that you buck against his face and rut all over him.

"You taste so good," Jay moans when your body finally subsides. He keeps licking the remnants of your orgasm, catching every last drop on his tongue before it gets the chance to escape him.

"I don't think I've ever had anyone eat me out like that," you say, catching your breath. "You're eager."

"Eager for you, yeah."

"So cheesy." Jay watches you hide your face in your arm like you're too shy to admit how much that turns you on. He laughs at your bashful nature and kisses his way up your body, temporarily stopping at your breasts to lick around your nipple and tug at them with his teeth. You reach down to grip his cock in your hands after you've spit directly into your palm, twisting your writ to jerk him off when he removes himself from your chest.

Jay looks down and watches your smaller hand around his girthy, thick cock. He can barely register his reality because of the marijuana and remembers he still has half the joint left. With the flick of his lighter, he's smoking once again and pushes his head back to blow the excess smoke towards his ceiling, moaning when you squeeze him.

His attention resumes on your hand when he feels you press the underside of his cock against your wet slit, watching the way your hips grind against his bare dick. The tip is just shy of breaching your hole every time you grind yourself against the head and Jay bucks his own hips in response. He gets a preview like this, watching exactly how far he'll disappear inside of you. It makes him crazy to see you like this, too. Pre-cum leaks from his slit the drips down your onto your pussy to make an ever wetter mess, the sound of the splash ringing in his ears the more the two of you grind against each other. He passes the joint to you and you eagerly accept, inhaling a long puff and expertly holding it in before exhaling.

You nearly drop it when Jay angles his dick to press the entirety of his cock into you. He catches you by surprise as he's able to grab it from your fingers before it falls onto the bed. The stretch is already unimaginable and he takes his sweet time pushing himself into you, allowing his gaze to fall where the two of you connect. Jay witnesses as your tight, velvety walls make room for his thickness and you're taking him like the champion he knows you to be. Jay drags his cock out and thrusts shallowly to let you get comfortable with his impressive size. His eyes roam across your body until they land on your plush lips and he bends down to steal a kiss while keeping the joint steady in his hands.

You eagerly kiss him back as if his mouth distracts you from the initial pain of his dick. Jay keeps fucking into you little by little, letting the sound of your shared arousal echo within the room. "You hear that? Baby. That's all you. You made us this wet." You tense around him and clench at his words, lips chasing his own in a messy kiss the more he pushes himself inside of you. "Your pussy's been aching for me, hasn't she? All the times we've fooled around prepared you for this, honey. Feel my cock. Feel it go in and out."

"It feels so good."

"I know it does," he says, kissing the corner of your mouth. "Feels so good when you're high, doesn't it?"

"Yes," you moan. "I'm so fucking horny, Jay."

"I know you are, baby. You're so wet."

He kills the joint for the last time before tossing it on the ashtray to focus on you. The last push of his cock feels like pure heaven as his balls hit your ass cheeks the second he bottoms out, and his tip hits the deepest part of you. Maybe it's the high or maybe it's because sex with you is no longer a mere fantasy, but Jay can feel every movement from your twitching hips to the way you're constantly clenching around his dick.

Fucking you is insanely different than fucking his hand at the thought of you. Your walls enclose around him like a vice meant to keep him addicted to you forever. Every single drag and thrust of his hips makes Jay lose his fucking mind because his dream girl is underneath him with her legs spread wide open for him to fuck. Jay collapses right on top of you the second your arms pull him by his neck. He doesn't fight, his body already soaring through his high like he has the ability to fly. The combination of Jay's attraction and the his inebriated state contributes to how his arousal that seems to be never ending.

Your hole is so slippery. How can one person be this wet? Jay thanks whatever god is listening to him the more he ruts himself against your lap like a crazed sex addict. Or, he sure feels that way since you're gripping him with your pussy and your arms, pulling him impossibly close to you like you're trying to become one with him. Jay doesn't mind feeling your sharp nails down his back. He grunts at the mental image of the red lines decorating his skin when he gets the chance to look at himself in the mirror. He'd do anything to see you get off on his cock.

Jay buries his face inside of your neck and lets his warm breath fan over your skin. The entire room smells like weed and sex, two very important things to Jay. He can't remember the last time he was so horny that he thought his dick would fall off the longer he fucks himself into a tight hole, but your wetness paired with your angelic moans continue to push Jay closer and closer to his first orgasm. He's determined to keep himself from coming too quickly, though. He kisses along your neck and doesn't care that he's probably moaning too loudly against your ear.

"Harder," you croak, voice dry from the marijuana and from the constant moaning. "Fuck me harder."

You don't have to tell him twice.

Jay positions your legs on both of his shoulders, admiring the way your tits look. They're big and round and they jiggle every time he moves your body to put you in the exact spot he wants you. The way your nipples move at every slight movements makes Jay kiss the back of his teeth and slot his cock right back into you before he pushes his cock and his chest forward, effectively bending you in half.

His cock reaches a whole new angle the more he's able to push himself down. You cry out a broken moan when his dick pierces a new depth and he silences your cry with a kiss to your lips. Spit falls everywhere the more your mouths mash together, tongues fighting like the two of you are locked in an intense battle. Jay repositions himself until his legs are spread wide, the balls of his feet planted on his mattress before lifting his hips just thrust into you with a newfound strength that makes your eyes squeeze shut.

He drinks up your moans like it's liquor. Jay's abdomen tenses as he holds this position, feeling the burn in his legs the longer he uses his strength to push and pull himself in and out of your body. The drag is delicious. It's so good that he hisses and closes his eyes to focus on the feeling of your wet cunt gripping onto him like you're afraid he'll leave if you aren't tight enough. Sweat has formed along his forehead and your bodies are slippery from the sexual workout, but it adds to the intensity of it all. Jay has never felt enamored with a girl like he is with you and the sheer magnitude of his attraction outweighs any drug he's tried in his lifetime. He'd happily quit smoking marijuana if you asked him too. But lucky for him, you can keep up.

"Tightest pussy in the world," Jay groans, slamming his cock into you and holding your body underneath him until you're pinned between the mattress and his chest. His cock is lodged deep into your pussy with no signs of letting up and the way you squeeze him from the inside out is enough to make Jay feel like he's seeing stars. "Are you always like this? Do you always make people feel so fucking crazy?"

"Just you," you say, barely able to speak from the intensity of the position.

"Just me," he repeats, grunting through his nose. "Only me, baby. Only I can make you feel like this."

"Only you."

"Only I can get you high like this," he grunts, lifting his hips to slam them back down onto you. You cry and it sounds like a fucking hymn. "I want you to cum like this. Can you do that for me, honey? Cum right on my dick."

And you do. It's like a command, almost. He knows you've been holding out and waiting for him, but you deserve to come as many times as you want without asking for his permission. He loves knowing he can get you to feel as free as you do without worrying about other people. It's so sexy that you're as considerate as you are, but as far as Jay's concerned, you could come on his cock a million times over and he wouldn't care about getting off it you were satisfied.

He feels the tension in your body as you focus on your orgasm. Jay moves in tandem with you, letting his cock impale your pussy and pushing past your hole when you clench around him. The tightness squeezes him until his tip is hitting the very spot that makes you scream out his name like it's a prayer, and you come like you've never experienced such an orgasmic high before. He feels you come. Jay savors the way your body arches as you reach your peak and it takes everything in him to stay as still as he is, his abdomen aching and his legs burning from holding this position. But it's worth it to watch the way you fall apart on him completely.

"You're so hot when you cum," Jay mumbles against your lips, letting your legs fall from his shoulders and allowing himself to break from his previous hold. He kisses over your lips to soothe you as he slowly rocks his hard cock in and out of your pussy, using your orgasm as lubricant. "It makes me wanna fuck you within an inch of your life."

"Do it," you taunt, smiling up at him with a fucked out grin that makes Jay think you're a succubus. Your lack of a refractory period is pure insanity. He can barely believe your pussy doesn't ache from his mouth, fingers, and his cock. Or maybe it does but you aren't saying anything. You're taking it like a fucking champ.

"Bend over," he instructs, pulling his cock out to stand while you turn your body over. He strokes himself in the meantime, watching as you spread your legs and arch your back like a feline waiting for its reward. Your pussy is on full display in front of him and he can't resist getting on his knees to shove his face in your lap again.

There is no rhyme or reason to it anymore. Jay has turned into a dirtier, hornier version of himself the more his high climbs up an invisible mountain. His tongue licks over your delicious folds and licks up every drop of your come like it's syrup spilling from a maple tree. Jay makes a complete mess of his face and slurps at your wetness, drinking your sweet nectar like it's the only thing he could ever imagine in his mouth.

He lets go of his cock to grip your ass cheeks and moans straight into your pussy when he ruts his cock against the side of the bed, thrusting every single time he pushes his tongue deeper into your wet hole. You moan before him and push your ass right against his face, making him bury himself deeper into your hole as though he never wants to leave. He doesn't, really. He'd be perfectly happy if he died with your pussy on his tongue.

Jay removes himself from your pussy when he feels himself get closer and closer to the edge. The soft material of his bedsheets would be enough to throw him off the deep end if he isn't careful. He gets back on his feet after licking up a stripe and pushes his tongue up your slit until he licks your wrinkled hole. Your body tenses at the strange sensation but you aren't completely turned off by it. In fact, Jay notices your legs spreading even wider as your back arches deeper like you're in some kind of trance. He takes his chance and spits directly into your tightest hole with a slow drip, listening to a moan that comes deep within your chest the second it hits you. He brings his thumb to gently rub it in, temporarily neglecting your pussy to watch the way you're writhing as he brushes his finger over your asshole. It's incredible how responsive and trusting you are. If he was a worse person, Jay would put the very tip of his cock right against your hole. But he isn't and he figures if you liked it enough to endure his curiosity, you might let him try putting his dick in there one day.

He lines himself with your pussy again, flicking the head across your folds to gather enough slick. Jay lets his tip pass over and over again until you're whining like you'll die without his dick. The desperation in your voice turns him on so much that he feels his balls twitch when you let our a particularly high-pitched noise. It's enough to make him sink back into your pussy, hands gripping your hips for stability. He feels his own legs shaking from the new angle and the sight of your back arching in front of him.

Without a single warning, Jay fucks you. It's the kind of pace that only occurs when he's so horny that he can't think about anything other than finishing himself off. You claw at his bedsheets and manage to grab one of his pillows to hold against your chest. His blunt nails dig themselves right into your meaty flesh as he brings his right hand to smack your right ass cheek. The sting is incredible and he must assume you love this kind of pain because the long, drawn out moan rings in his ears like it's Christmas. He smacks your ass again while he bucks his cock into you like a madman, spanking you over and over again until he feels a bit sorry for the pain he's causing you.

Jay's sack bounces against your puffy clit with every thrust and he's positive you've started whining because you feel another orgasm approaching. He wishes he could hold himself out longer too, but the two of you are higher than a pair of kites in the sky and your incredible moans and tight pussy push him to his limits. He clenches his ass to prolong this feeling, hissing at the intensity of your walls gliding against him every time he drags his cock out of you just to push it back inside your hole.

"One last time," Jay grunts, reaching one hand to toy with your clit and making you moan into his pillow. "Come for me one last time, yeah?"

"C-Come together," you barely manage to say.

"Yeah, baby. Let's come together. Fuck, give it to me and I'll give you my cum too."

Lost in the chase for his own orgasm, Jay's knees nearly lock when he's about to come. He braces himself at the very last second and falls until his cheek hits your upper back, feeling the way you clench around him before finishing for the third time. Jay follows soon after, spilling his seed directly into your hole without ceasing his hips from fucking it back into you. He doesn't care that the mixed cum starts to seep from where you're both connected, nor does he care that it's starting to drip down onto your thighs. He keeps thrusting until he's managed to overcome the peak and ruts into your hole.

When all is said and done, the only thing that registers is his heart beat and your breaths. Jay kisses the back of your neck with such tenderness that it pulls a satisfied moan from your throat. He can't help but laugh and twitch inside of you as his cock grows soft. You eventually push him out with a single clench, feeling the way his dick falls to your thigh as leftover semen seeps from his slit and onto your skin. The room is hot, wet, and far too overwhelming to properly come down from the insanity of tonight.

"You did so good, honey," Jay murmurs against your shoulder, peppering sweet kisses as you close your eyes. "My good girl. My sweet, sweet baby."

"I'm your baby," you whisper in a fucked out bliss.

"That's right." He nods and brings his face to yours, kissing you once before turning your body over to face him. Jay brushes your hair out of your face and cups your face, his thumb caressing your cheek. "Are you okay? You sounded a little dehydrated."

"It was the weed," you say with a quiet giggle. "So worth it, though. But I could go for some water."

In record speed, he's able to clean the both of you up and fetch some water from the kitchen without making too much conversation. He avoids Jake, who looks at him and whistles as he walks back to his bedroom. To his surprise, you're up on your feet and digging through his closet with one of his shirts draped over your body.

"Aren't you beautiful," he says, bringing the water up to your lips. You laugh at the absurdity but drink from his hand anyway.

"I can drink by myself, you know. I'm a big girl."

"Yeah, but I like the idea of taking care of you."

"Are you still high?"

"Yeah." Jay laughs. "But I'd tell you that sober too."

He beckons you to climb into bed next to him after he's opened all of his windows. After the intensity of sex, the softness of your head resting on his chest pulls a smile out of Jay. Your leg rests atop his own like a needy koala, but he doesn't mind. He loves it, in fact. He's positive you can hear how fast his heart is beating.

"Breakfast tomorrow?" You whisper already half-asleep. Jay kisses the crown of your head and pulls you closer to him.

"Sleep. I'll be here in the morning."

✧･ﾟ─────────── ✧･

The mirror stares back at you like it’s trying to convince you of something.

That you’re beautiful. That you’re lucky. That this is what you’ve always wanted.

But the mirror lies.

You’re dressed in layers of ivory lace and silk so heavy it feels like armor. Gold threads snake across your bodice like vines, binding you into a shape you barely recognize. Somewhere behind you, handmaidens fuss with ribbons and brocade, cooing soft words you don’t hear. Your reflection looks poised- majestic, even.

But you feel like you’re drowning beneath the weight of expectation.

Your chest tightens. Not from nerves. No, you’d welcome nerves. This is worse. This is suffocation. The perfume in the room is too sweet. The silence, too loud. Every delicate “Princess” that slips from a servant’s tongue hits like a blade.

You’re getting married today.

To a man you’ve barely spoken to.

A man who’s ten years older.

A prince from a kingdom that needed a treaty more than a love story.

You catch your own gaze in the mirror again. Your lips are painted, your hair perfectly pinned, your veil stitched with symbols older than your name. You look like a queen-in-the-making.

But inside?

You’re unraveling.

“Too tight,” you say sharply, not looking at the handmaiden tying your corset.

She freezes. “Apologies, Your Highness…”

You stand abruptly, fingers tugging the laces yourself until the pressure eases from your ribs.

“Leave,” you murmur.

They hesitate.

“I said leave.”

Their skirts whisper across the marble floor as they vanish, one by one, until the room is yours again. Quiet. Empty. Suffocating.

You exhale shakily and lower yourself onto the velvet stool near the fire. You should feel like a bride. Instead, you feel like a pawn being moved across a glittering board.

A knock at the door makes your spine go rigid.

“Come in,” you say, voice tighter than you’d like.

The door creaks open. And there she is.

Jisoo.

Your older sister. Your kingdom’s golden girl.

She steps inside delicately, wrapped in blush silk with her hair softly swept up, eyes wide with sympathy you don’t want. She’s everything gentle and graceful the court adores. She looks like spring in human form.

And she looks like someone’s first choice.

“Soo,” you say, your tone unsure- too many emotions knotted in one syllable.

She smiles. Soft. Almost apologetic. “You look… stunning.”

You blink at her. “Why weren’t you here earlier?”

“I thought you’d want to be alone.”

“I didn’t,” you admit. “Not today.”

She hesitates a step from you. Her fingers curl into each other.

You feel the question bubbling before you can stop it. “Does he love you?”

The words spill out like poison.

Jisoo’s expression flickers- guilt, shock, something unreadable but she catches it before it fully forms. “Y/N…”

“You don’t have to lie,” you whisper. “Not today.”

“I never encouraged it.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

“I didn’t know.”

“You must’ve known.” Your voice cracks just slightly. “He looks at you like you’re the crown he lost.”

Jisoo swallows, her voice quiet. “He’s marrying you.”

You stare into the fire, the flickering light licking at your gown like flame to paper. “But he wanted you.”

She doesn’t answer. And her silence says more than a confession ever could.

You don’t blame her. Not really. But that doesn’t make it hurt any less.

“Maybe you should be the one marrying him,” you say, not able to meet her eyes.

“I would never take this from you,” she breathes.

You turn to face her finally. “Would it really be stealing if I was just keeping your seat warm?”

The air between you thickens. You’re not angry at her. Not really. You’re angry at fate. At politics. At the cold man waiting at the altar who wants a different bride.

Jisoo takes a step closer. “You’re stronger than you think.”

“No, I’m just better at pretending.”

She reaches out to touch your shoulder. You don’t pull away, but you don’t lean in either.

“He’ll learn to love you,” she says gently. “Anyone would.”

You let out a dry laugh, sharp as glass. “You don’t learn to love someone like me. You endure her.”

The bell tolls outside- three slow, echoing chimes that stretch across the walls like the opening notes of a funeral dirge.

It’s time.

You rise. Your gown shifts like water. You steady your shoulders, straighten your crown. You feel her watching you, but you can’t look at her again.

Because you are walking down the aisle

Not as the girl he dreamed of. Not as the sister he wanted. But as the bride he’s stuck with.

The chapel smells like ancient roses and old prayers.

You glide down the aisle slowly, deliberately, as the eyes of two kingdoms drink you in. The train of your gown trails behind you like spilled moonlight. Hundreds of royals, nobles, and dignitaries line the carved pews, all dressed in silks and golds, but none of them matter. You feel them watching, judging, whispering about your age, your family, your worth.

But you only look forward.

You keep your eyes on the altar where Prince Jeon Jungkook stands like he’s carved from ice.

He doesn’t smile.

Not even a flicker of warmth touches his face when he sees you. His expression remains cold, impassive, lips a straight line, shoulders square. You wonder if he even sees you or if he’s just counting the seconds until this political obligation is complete.

The music swells. The world fades.

You reach him.

He doesn’t offer his hand.

The High Cleric begins the ceremony with blessings in a language older than either of your kingdoms. You barely hear the words. Your fingers are trembling in your gloves. You feel like you’re underwater. Everything is soft and distant and slow.

Until it’s time for the vows.

You turn to face him. And his eyes aren’t on you.

They’re on her.

You see it. Just for a second. A flicker. A heartbeat. But it’s real.

His gaze shifts- barely, subtly- but you know the direction. You don’t even have to look.

Jisoo.

She’s seated near the front. Pale dress. Downcast eyes. Perfect posture. As still and serene as a statue. She doesn’t move. Doesn’t acknowledge it.

But you feel it. All of it.

The phantom of his feelings for her settles like a chill between your ribs.

“Repeat after me,” the Cleric intones, unaware of the slow fracture blooming in your chest.

You say the words.

You pledge your body, your name, your crown.

You do not cry.

He says the words, too. Calm. Flat. Emotionless. He binds himself to you in front of gods and ghosts, but his voice doesn’t tremble. Not from nerves. Not from affection.

Because he feels nothing.

He lifts your veil. His hands are steady. Distant.

Your first kiss as husband and wife is just that- a formality. His lips brush yours like the passing of winter wind. No passion. No warmth. No curiosity.

The crowd erupts into applause.

You smile.

You have to.

He offers you his arm.

You take it.

You walk down the aisle together, shoulder to shoulder but not touching, as cheers rain down from the golden arches of the chapel.

You smile.

You have to.

And though you can feel him beside you… 

he says nothing.

═══════

The ballroom gleams with gold and artifice.

You’re standing in the center of it, hand in hand with a man who hasn’t spoken a word to you all day. Not during the procession. Not during the ceremony. Not after the kiss. Not when he escorted you down the aisle like he was walking beside a shadow.

And now, in front of hundreds of watching eyes, it’s time for the first dance.

The music begins. You take one step forward, and so does he.

His gloved hand rests against your waist like he’s afraid to touch you too firmly- as if contact might imply something that isn’t there. His other hand holds yours, just tight enough to be respectful, just distant enough to make your stomach sink.

You lift your eyes to his.

And for the first time, he speaks, “You should smile.”

Your breath catches.

“That’s what they’re expecting,” he continues, voice low, precise. “A happy bride. A glowing princess.”

You try to smile, but it curls wrong on your lips.

“And you?” you murmur, eyes still fixed on his. “Are you pretending too?”

His grip tightens ever so slightly. “I’m fulfilling a role.”

You laugh- soft, bitter. “And what role is that? Dutiful husband or heartless executioner?”

He doesn’t answer.

You move together across the marble floor like strangers trapped in the same song. The music is beautiful, swelling in delicate arcs around you. But you can’t feel any of it.

“What did I do to make you hate this so much?” you whisper.

He blinks, slowly. “I don’t hate you.”

“No?” you scoff. “Then why won’t you look at me the way you looked at her?”

The words are out before you can stop them. His jaw clenches.

“Don’t bring her into this.”

“She’s already in it,” you breathe. “You put her there when you looked at her during our vows.”

The music swells again, a waltz that sounds too pretty for this kind of pain.

“I don’t want to embarrass you,” he says finally, voice tight.

You force a smile- sharp, graceful, empty. “Too late.”

He turns you in a slow spin, elegant, effortless. From a distance, the court sees perfection. A prince and his new bride, radiant under the candlelight.

But you know better.

You feel the space between your bodies like a scar that hasn’t healed yet.

“Do you love her?” you ask, quiet enough for only him to hear.

He doesn’t answer.

His silence slices deeper than any truth could.

You feel your chest tighten, throat burning. But your face? Your face stays royal. Untouched. Serene.

“Will I ever be more than her shadow to you?”

You see something flicker in his gaze, but it’s gone as fast as it comes.

“You were not the choice,” he says at last.

You blink. You stop moving for half a second. Your shoes nearly slip on the polished floor. The world tilts.

But then the music carries on.

So you do too.

He guides you back into motion, and you match him- fluid, poised, empty.

When the music ends, he steps back. Bows. You curtsy.

Applause erupts across the hall. And you smile so wide it almost cracks your face open.

═══════

The halls are empty when you’re escorted to the royal bedchamber.

No music now. No guests. No watching eyes. Just the sound of your heels against marble and your pulse humming beneath your skin.

The doors are already open.

He’s already inside.

You step in carefully, unsure of what you’ll find. The room is as grand as you imagined- pillars of carved obsidian, embroidered silks draped from the high ceiling, a fire crackling in the hearth like it’s mocking you with its warmth. A table is set with untouched wine. Rose petals litter the floor like someone believed romance could be faked.

He stands by the window, facing away from you. Still dressed in full ceremonial regalia. Still silent.

The doors shut behind you with a hollow thud.

You wait.

You don’t know what you’re waiting for. Instructions? Affection? A beginning?

Instead, you get nothing.

You unclasp your cloak. It falls silently around your feet. Your hair is pinned and tight, your corset aching against your ribs. You want to scream. You want to cry. You want to be held.

But he still won’t look at you.

“It’s done,” you say quietly, just to break the silence.

He hums in acknowledgment. Doesn’t turn.

You take a step forward, cautious. “Is there something you’d like me to do?”

At last, he speaks. “Sleep. That’s all.”

That’s all.

The words hang heavy in the air.

You try not to show it, but your fingers curl against your side. “Isn’t this… expected?”

“I don’t owe them a performance.”

“And me?” you ask.

He turns to face you now, slowly. His expression unreadable. Cold. He looks at you like a decision he regrets making. Like a formality he’s been assigned.

“You don’t want this,” he says.

You flinch at the assumption. “You don’t know what I want.”

“You want love. Passion. Devotion.” He crosses his arms. “I’m not the man who gives those things.”

“No,” you say, stepping closer, “you’re the man who gives silence. Distance. Glances meant for someone else.”

His jaw ticks.

You keep going. You’re tired of swallowing pain. “You said your vows. You kissed me. You danced with me. And not once did you pretend I was enough.”

“I told you I wouldn’t lie to you.”

“Oh, so this is honesty?” you snap. “This- coldness. This rejection. This… emptiness?”

He sighs. Runs a hand through his hair. His voice is quieter now. “It’s mercy.”

You shake your head. “It’s cruelty.”

Neither of you speak for a long moment.

You break the silence again. “Did you ever think that maybe I didn’t want to be just some treaty girl, either? That I didn’t want to marry a man in love with someone else?”

His face flickers. Just briefly.

You don’t know what emotion it is. Pity? Guilt? Regret?

But it fades too quickly to hold onto.

“You can sleep in here if you want,” he says, voice controlled again. “Or I’ll have a separate room prepared.”

You take a deep breath, walk past him toward the bed. You don’t look at him. Not this time.

“I’ll stay here,” you say softly. “Not because I want you. But because this is my marriage, too.”

You sit on the edge of the bed, spine straight, heart hollow. And he walks away without another word.

The doors close.

You are alone.

Again.

You unlace your corset with trembling fingers. You slide the jewelry off your skin like it’s shackles. You curl beneath the covers, staring at the ceiling that feels more like sky than stone.

And for the first time since the ceremony began, you let the tears fall. No one hears them. No one sees. And when morning comes, you will wear the crown like it never hurt.

═══════

The palace is dead quiet after midnight.

You lie still in the enormous bed, staring up at the carved ceiling, your body wrapped in satin, your heart wrapped in stone.

Jungkook came back hours ago.

He didn’t speak when he entered.

He didn’t speak when he undressed, carefully, methodically, folding his ceremonial uniform with military precision and draping a robe over his bare chest. He didn’t speak when he climbed into the opposite side of the bed, a world away from your side.

He just turned his back to you.

And that was that.

You listened to his breathing even out. Watched the fire in the hearth dim into embers. Let the weight of the sheets press your body down like a crown too heavy to wear.

Sleep never came.

The silence around you was too loud.

You watched the moonlight crawl across the walls until your eyes ached. You imagined what it might’ve felt like to be chosen. To be wanted. To be seen.

You almost didn’t hear it.

A whisper. Barely there.

You blink, breath catching, your body frozen as stone.

Then again- soft. Muffled. Threaded with sleep.

“…Jisoo…”

Your heart stops.

The name barely drips from his mouth- half breath, half confession- but it’s real. It slithers through the shadows between you like smoke.

“…Jisoo…”

He shifts in the bed beside you, still deep in dreams.

And you?

You’re wide awake.

The ache in your chest is immediate and consuming. Sharp enough to make your eyes water, soft enough to break you slowly. You don’t speak. Don’t move.

You lie there, paralyzed. Because how can you scream when the knife was never even meant for you?

It was a whisper. A sleep-talk. A mistake.

But it was her name. Not yours.

Not once tonight- not in his gaze, not in his vows, not in his arms- did you belong to him. But her? She owns the quietest part of him. The part he doesn’t even guard.

You turn your head toward him slowly. His face is peaceful in sleep. Untroubled. Like he hasn’t just carved you open.

You stare at him for a long time.

And for the first time since this all began, you don’t feel sad. You feel cold.

Numb. Resolved.

You pull the covers tighter around you- not for warmth, but for armor.

He may have married you.

But he dreams of her.

And if he thinks you’ll stay quiet forever, if he thinks you’ll simply live in her shadow…

He doesn’t know you at all.

═══════

The first week of marriage does not belong to you.

It belongs to the court.

Every morning begins with a maid waking you before the sun, layering you in gowns chosen by someone else, and fitting a crown so heavy you can feel it in your spine. Every day ends with aching cheeks from holding the same smile for hours.

They don’t call you by name anymore.

You’re Her Royal Highness, Princess Consort of the Northern Kingdom.

A title. Not a person.

The palace calendar is full- parades, charity luncheons, handshakes with foreign diplomats, appearances at schools, hospitals, markets. At each stop, you are arranged like part of the decor. A jeweled accessory for the prince’s arm.

He almost never offers it.

When he does, it’s for the benefit of the crowd. An elbow bent at a perfect angle, a smile carved into place like it was taught, not felt. He’s a master of performance.

So are you.

The people cheer for the image of you both. They throw flower petals into the street, shout blessings, push forward to glimpse their fairytale couple.

If only they knew fairytales rot when the gold is only paint.

At the textile factory, you stand beside him while the foreman gushes about the kingdom’s prosperity. At the ribbon-cutting for a new bridge, you’re handed the scissors, smiling for the press while Jungkook stares past you at some distant point, as though the moment doesn’t require him.

Sometimes, you catch yourself wondering if he forgets you’re even there.

You’ve learned the choreography. Sit still. Smile faintly. Look engaged, but not outspoken. Be regal, but not commanding. Be graceful, but not bold.

Be there.

But never be.

The only time you feel remotely human is during the carriage rides between engagements, when the curtains are drawn, and the crowds can’t see you.

That’s when the silence between you becomes unbearable. He doesn’t speak.

You don’t either.

But you glance at him once, catching his profile in the dim light. It’s like looking at a portrait- beautiful, distant, untouchable. You turn away before he can feel you watching.

By the end of the week, you’ve perfected the role:

A crown without a voice.

═══════

It happens because it has to.

Not because he wants you. Not because you want him. But because it’s expected. Because the kingdom will talk if it doesn’t.

The door opens without a knock. You glance up from your seat on the edge of the bed, silk robe tied loosely around your waist, hair falling over your shoulders. He steps inside, closing the door with quiet finality.

“We need to talk,” you say.

“Not tonight.” His voice is low, clipped, as he shrugs out of his coat. “This isn’t a conversation.”

Your brow furrows. “Then what is it?”

He looks at you but it’s the way a jeweler inspects a gem before deciding if it’s worth setting. “It’s what’s required,” he says. “For the line. For the crown.”

Your chest tightens. You know the court’s whispers- how the marriage will be scrutinized until you produce an heir. You know the timeline they expect. You’d expected distance. You hadn’t expected to feel like an appointment.

He approaches slowly, rolling his cuffs to his forearms. When he stops in front of you, he doesn’t touch you right away- just stands there until the air between you grows heavy.

When he stops in front of you, he looks down at you with the same expression he wears in court- measured, guarded, cold.

“Stand up,” he says.

The command leaves no room for hesitation. You rise.

His hands land on your waist, not with affection but with control, guiding you closer. His mouth meets yours in a kiss that isn’t really a kiss- no give, no hunger, no softness. You press harder anyway, trying to spark something. He responds by gripping your jaw, holding you still.

“You’re trying too hard,” he murmurs.

“At least I’m trying,” you bite back.

A slow, humorless smile curves his lips. “Careful.”

He turns you with deliberate force until your knees meet the bed. You sit. He follows, untying your robe in one smooth pull. It falls to your sides, cool air grazing bare skin.

His gaze sweeps over you- assessing, not admiring. “Beautiful,” he says, tone flat. “But beauty doesn’t make you powerful.”

You swallow. “Then what does?”

His eyes lift to yours, sharp as steel. “Control. And you don’t have any here.”

The word sends a shiver down your spine- half fear, half something you don’t want to name.

He presses you back into the mattress with a firm hand to your shoulder, sliding the robe from your arms. His touch is skilled, confident, but there’s no tenderness. Every movement feels deliberate- designed to take without giving.

You arch into him once, testing him. His palm flattens against your sternum, holding you down.

“Do you think I’ll lose myself for you?” he asks softly, mockingly. “You can’t provoke me into wanting you.”

The words burn hotter than his hands.

When he finally takes you, it’s with the same efficiency as everything else he does- controlled, unhurried, purposeful. The sounds in the room are soft but sharp: the creak of the bed, your shallow breaths, the low rumble of his voice telling you to hold still.

His grip on your hips is firm, guiding you exactly how he wants. You try to match his rhythm, to pull him closer. He shifts his hold, pinning your wrists above your head against the mattress.

“Not yours to lead,” he says. “Not tonight. Not ever.”

It’s almost clinical. Almost mechanical. Your body reacts anyway- heat, breathlessness, the helpless ache for more. But you know he’s watching every flicker of your expression like a general studying an opponent’s next move.

When it’s over, he pulls away immediately. No lingering touch. No kiss. Just rises, adjusting his clothes with the same precision he undid them.

You’re still catching your breath when he looks at you one last time. “This is duty, Princess. Don’t confuse it with anything else.”

And then he’s gone.

The door shuts behind him.

You stay there, robe open, pulse still racing- not from closeness, but from the sting of his words.

═══════

The council chamber smells faintly of parchment, polished wood, and the faint metallic tang of ambition.

You sit in the gilded chair to Jungkook’s right, posture flawless, hands folded in your lap. It’s your first time attending a full royal council since the wedding. You’re here to listen. To be silent. To play the part of the well-bred consort.

At least, that’s what they expect.

The chamber doors close, and the discussion begins. Ministers rise, presenting their concerns: border tensions with the Western Kingdom, grain shortages in the southern provinces, a brewing dispute with the merchant guilds.

Your husband listens with that same infuriating calm, speaking only when necessary, voice even, deliberate. A king in training.

But when the Minister of Trade suggests raising tariffs on imported grain to “incentivize” local production, something twists in your chest.

“That would starve half the southern provinces,” you say, before you can stop yourself.

Every head in the room turns.

Jungkook’s gaze cuts to you. Sharp. Warning.

The Minister blinks, surprised. “Your Highness, the measure-”

“-would drive up prices so high,” you continue, “that families already struggling would have to choose between bread and rent. And if the people are hungry, unrest follows. That is not ‘incentive,’ Minister. That is negligence.”

Murmurs ripple through the chamber.

Jungkook’s voice is quiet but firm. “Princess-”

You turn your head slowly, meeting his eyes. “Am I mistaken?”

A pause. His jaw tightens.

“You are… uninformed,” he says at last.

You lean forward, resting your hands on the table. “Then perhaps inform me. Tell me how destabilizing our food supply will help secure your rule. Or ours.”

A faint gasp from one of the scribes. A few ministers look away, hiding smirks. The Minister of Trade fidgets.

Jungkook’s expression doesn’t change, but you see the flicker in his eyes- anger, yes, but something else. Curiosity.

You look back at the table. “Instead of tariffs, subsidize local farmers to increase production. Buy excess grain directly from them at fair prices, then sell it cheaply in the provinces that need it most. The treasury loses nothing if the surplus is sold abroad. Everyone wins. The farmers, the provinces, the crown.”

The room goes still.

Then, slowly, the Minister of Agriculture nods. “It’s… a sound plan.”

More murmurs. Agreement.

Jungkook leans back in his chair, studying you like he’s seeing you for the first time. You can feel his gaze on your skin, hot and assessing.

“Very well,” he says finally. “We’ll consider the Princess’s… suggestion.”

It’s not an admission. Not in his tone.

But you’ve already won.

When the meeting ends, you rise before he does, smoothing your skirts. As you pass his chair, you feel his hand catch your wrist under the table.

You glance down at him.

His voice is low, for you alone. “We will discuss this later.”

You smile sweetly. “Of course, Your Highness.”

And you leave the chamber with your head high, the echo of your heels a victory drumbeat in the quiet hall. Yet, the moment the council doors close behind you, you know he’s following.

Your heels click against the marble corridor, echoing between the towering pillars. You don’t turn around, but you can feel him gaining on you- steady, purposeful, silent.

You make it halfway to your chambers before his hand closes around your wrist.

He pulls you into a side room- an antechamber lined with bookshelves and an unused writing desk- and shuts the door hard enough to rattle the hinges.

The air changes instantly.

He steps closer. Not close enough to touch, but enough that you can feel the weight of him, the way his presence seems to draw the oxygen from the room.

“Don’t ever do that again,” he says, voice low, razor-edged.

You arch a brow. “Speak?”

“Undermine me in front of my council.” His gaze is molten steel, locked on yours. “You embarrassed me.”

You take a deliberate step forward, closing some of the space between you. “I saved you from making a decision that would’ve turned half your kingdom against you.”

His jaw flexes. “That’s not your place.”

“And sitting there like a decorative vase is?” Your voice is calm, but each word lands sharp.

He moves closer, forcing you to back up until the edge of the desk presses against the back of your thighs. His hands plant on either side of you, caging you in without touching. “You don’t understand how dangerous it is to overstep in that room.”

You tilt your chin up. “I understand perfectly. They’ll eat you alive if they think you’re weak. And nothing says weakness like a wife too afraid to speak her mind.”

His eyes narrow. “You think you’re clever.”

“I know I am.”

For a moment, there’s only the sound of your breathing. His gaze drops briefly- not to your mouth, but to the stubborn lift of your chin- then returns to your eyes.

“You enjoy provoking me,” he says quietly.

“Only when you deserve it.”

One corner of his mouth twitches- not quite a smile, not quite a snarl. “Careful, Princess. If you make a habit of this, you might find I have… inventive ways of teaching obedience.”

You lean just slightly into the space between you, your voice a whisper. “And if you keep underestimating me, you might find I have inventive ways of winning.”

The tension between you is almost unbearable- not heat, not tenderness, just raw defiance meeting raw authority.

Finally, he pushes back, giving you space. “You’re not stupid,” he says. “But you are mine to manage.”

You smooth your skirts, stepping past him toward the door. “If you think I’ll be managed, Your Highness… you really haven’t been paying attention.”

You don’t wait for him to follow.

═══════

5 years earlier (jungkook’s pov): 

The gala had been suffocating.

Perfume and politics choked the air inside the ballroom. Every step, every word, every glance felt calculated. The music was loud enough to cover whispers but not loud enough to drown them out.

Jungkook slipped through a side door.

The night air hit him like a blessing- cool, crisp, tinged with the scent of rain. He loosened his collar and exhaled, letting the weight of the crown’s expectations roll off his shoulders, if only for a breath.

That’s when he saw her.

Jisoo.

She was standing at the edge of the balcony, moonlight touching the soft curve of her cheek. A pale silk gown flowed around her like water. Her hands were clasped in front of her, her lips moving faintly as she hummed something he didn’t recognize.

She turned when she heard him.

“Oh- Your Highness,” she said, voice light, careful. She curtsied, the movement graceful, unhurried. “I didn’t realize anyone else would be out here.”

“I needed air,” he admitted.

Her smile was small but knowing. “So did I.”

They stood there for a moment, the muffled music from the ballroom spilling through the open doors. He should have gone back inside. Instead, he found himself asking, “Do you come to many of these events?”

“More than I’d like.” Her gaze drifted toward the gardens below. “But my father says it’s important to be seen.”

The words were simple. Obvious, even. But the way she said them- steady, resigned, without bitterness-  struck him. She wasn’t like the others inside, scrambling for attention or advantage.

“I suppose he’s right,” he said.

She looked at him then, really looked, and for a second, he thought she might see past the prince to the man beneath. “You wear the pressure well.”

The compliment shouldn’t have mattered. It was the kind of thing royals said to each other all the time. But there was no jest in her tone, no false sweetness. It felt… clean.

Someone called her name from inside- a soft summons from a lady-in-waiting.

She dipped her head. “I should go.”

And just like that, she was gone.

Jungkook stayed on that balcony long after, the faint sound of her humming still in his ears.

It had been nothing- a polite exchange in the quiet. But in a life where every word was a weapon, her simplicity had felt like a shield.

Years later, he still told himself she was different.

He never noticed that he didn’t know a single thing more about her.

═══════

Two months change nothing… and everything.

The last time you and Jungkook stood together in the council chamber, you defied him in front of his ministers. He hasn’t forgotten. Neither have you.

The winter gala is your first appearance together since then.

The ballroom glitters under crystal chandeliers, every corner alive with silks, jewels, and the low hum of politics disguised as conversation. Gold light spills across polished marble, and the air is warm with the scent of champagne and candle wax.

You’ve chosen your gown carefully.

Silk the color of deep wine, cut low enough at the back to reveal the elegant dip of your spine, the fabric clinging to your curves before spilling loose in a daring slit high on your thigh. By court standards, it’s scandalous. By yours, it’s perfect.

You don’t tell Jungkook you’ve done it for him.

You tell yourself it’s for you.

The heads turn as soon as you enter on his arm. Ministers pause mid-sentence. Noblewomen whisper behind jeweled fans. Men look longer than they should. You feel the power in it- the way the room bends toward you.

Jungkook’s grip on your arm is tight enough to bruise.

“Enjoying yourself already?” you murmur, eyes fixed forward.

“You think this is clever?” His voice is low, dangerous. “Every man here staring at what’s mine?”

“Every man here staring at their future queen,” you correct softly.

He doesn’t reply, but you feel the tension radiating off him.

And then you see her.

Jisoo.

She stands near the far end of the room, surrounded by a small cluster of dignitaries. She’s dressed in soft silver, hair pinned in perfect curls, a picture of refined restraint. The kind of elegance that draws admiration without scandal.

She sees you. She smiles- polite, warm, and just a little too knowing. You smile back, the kind that could be taken for friendliness or challenge.

You make your rounds, greeting nobles, shaking hands, accepting compliments that dance on the edge of impropriety. You can feel Jungkook’s gaze on you even when he’s not beside you- especially when you laugh at another man’s joke, your fingers brushing his sleeve as you speak.

When you finally return to Jungkook’s side, his jaw is tight.

“Careful, Princess,” he says under his breath. “You’re playing a dangerous game.”

You sip your champagne, unbothered. “So are you.”

The orchestra swells, the floor clears for the next dance. He offers his hand, not out of romance, but because tradition demands it.

You place your hand in his and let him lead you into the spotlight.

Around you, the court watches. Some curious, some envious, some waiting for one of you to slip.

Under the chandeliers, his hand rests low on your back, almost possessive.

You wonder if he’s imagining Jisoo in your place. You wonder if it’s killing him that he can’t look away from you.

═══════

The ride back to the palace is silent.

Not the comfortable kind.

The kind that crackles with things unsaid.

You can feel him beside you in the carriage, his body still wound tight, his hand flexing once on his knee as though resisting the urge to act. He doesn’t look at you, but his gaze burns into the side of your face all the same.

When the carriage stops, he’s out first, striding through the palace doors without a word. You follow, heels clicking against marble. He doesn’t slow down until you’re inside your chambers.

The door shuts hard behind you.

“Do you enjoy humiliating me?” His voice is sharp, each word laced with steel.

You slip off your gloves one finger at a time. “Do you enjoy pretending you own me?”

He takes two steps forward, closing the space between you. “Everything you did tonight- the dress, the smiles, touching him-”

“-was diplomacy,” you cut in. “Something a ruler should understand.”

His eyes flash, and then he’s crowding you backward until your spine meets the wall. His hand presses against it beside your head, trapping you in place.

“You wanted my attention?” His voice drops lower, dangerous. “Now you have it.”

Your heart kicks hard, but you lift your chin. “And what will you do with it, Your Highness?”

His mouth crashes onto yours- not gentle, not tentative, but claiming. His other hand drags up your thigh, finding the slit in your gown and shoving the silk higher.

“Prove to you,” he murmurs against your lips, “that you can play with anyone else in the room… but you’ll still end up here.”

You bite his lower lip, pulling back just enough to smirk. “And if I’m not impressed?”

His grip tightens on your hip. “Then I’ll try harder.”

He turns you toward the bed in one swift movement, the skirt of your gown bunching in his fist. You go willingly, but when he pushes you down, you twist to look over your shoulder.

“Still just duty?” you taunt.

He freezes for a fraction of a second- then his hands are on you again, rougher now, dragging you back against the hard, unmistakable shape of his cock through his trousers. “Tonight? It’s a lesson.”

The dress comes off in a series of impatient tugs, pooling on the floor. His palms roam over your bare skin like he’s taking inventory, thumbs digging into your ass before parting you just enough to feel the heat of his breath between your legs. You shiver, but refuse to turn your face away.

His clothes follow- not rushed, but stripped with deliberate precision, every motion dripping with control. When he finally presses the heavy, hot length of him against your entrance, he holds there for a moment, letting you feel every inch before he pushes in.

The stretch is deep and sudden, making your breath catch, your nails digging into the sheets. He doesn’t give you time to adjust- his hips drive forward in hard, unrelenting strokes, the thick slide of him hitting deep enough to make you gasp every time. His hands lock your hips in place, forcing you to take him exactly how he wants, his pace a brutal, steady rhythm meant to grind down your defiance.

But you meet every thrust, rocking back against him with just as much force, your slick making every connection filthy and loud.

“Say you belong to me,” he orders, voice ragged.

You shake your head, breathless but smiling even as pleasure twists low in your belly. “No.”

His mouth is at your ear in the next breath, teeth grazing the shell before his words pour over you like molten heat. “You will.”

You push back harder, grinding until the head of his cock drags against that sweet, swollen spot inside you. A moan slips free- you swallow it down before it can give him satisfaction. “Or you’ll learn I don’t belong to anyone.”

The challenge hangs between you, thick as the sweat on your skin. Neither of you slow down, each thrust sharper, wetter, more desperate. The slap of skin fills the room, your breaths tangled with curses and broken sounds you’d never admit to making.

You’re so close you can feel it buzzing in your bones but you hold it back out of spite, out of sheer will. His fingers slip down between your thighs, finding your clit and circling hard until your resolve cracks and your body shudders around him.

He follows with a deep, savage thrust, spilling into you with a low groan, hips grinding through the aftershocks like he’s branding you from the inside.

When it ends, you’re both breathless, flushed, staring at each other across the tangle of sheets.

He doesn’t kiss you. You don’t ask him to.

“You’re exhausting,” he says finally.

“You’re obsessed,” you reply.

And you both know you’re right.

═══════

Two weeks have passed since that night.

The night where anger blurred with want, where neither of you surrendered but both of you took.

Since then, you’ve spoken little. Polite exchanges in public, calculated silences in private.

The world sees perfection. You see the cracks.

This morning, the palace gardens are alive with late winter sunlight. The air is crisp, carrying the scent of blooming camellias and damp earth. You’ve always preferred this part of the palace- away from the council chambers, away from the eyes of the court.

Your ladies follow at a respectful distance as you take the marble path toward the upper terrace. The view from there sweeps over the river, the towers, and the city beyond- a reminder of everything that belongs to the crown, if not to you.

You’re halfway up the wide steps when your heel catches on the edge of your gown.

The world tilts.

Your breath leaves you in a sharp gasp as your foot slides on the slick marble. You stumble forward, ankle twisting hard. The pain shoots up your leg before your knees hit the ground.

And then- 

Strong hands catch you before you collapse completely.

The scent of warm spice and leather floods your senses.

“Y/N.” His voice is low, urgent.

You blink up into Jungkook’s face. For once, his expression isn’t composed. His eyes are wide, scanning you for injury.

“My ankle,” you breathe, wincing as the weight shifts.

Without hesitation, he bends and sweeps you into his arms. The motion startles you, your hands gripping his shoulders instinctively.

“Put me down,” you protest.

“Not a chance,” he says, his tone sharp but not cold. It’s threaded with something you’ve never heard from him before. Fear.

He carries you to a shaded bench, lowering you carefully. His fingers are warm and gentle as they press around the swelling ankle, his jaw tight.

“You’ll be off it for a day at least,” he says.

“It’s just a twist-”

“You’ll rest,” he interrupts, brooking no argument. “I’ll have a physician sent immediately.”

You tilt your head. “Are you… worried?”

His eyes meet yours. For a heartbeat, he doesn’t answer. “You are my wife,” he says finally, voice softer than you expect. “What happens to you matters.”

“You’ll stay in your chambers today. I’ll make the arrangements.”

And before you can protest, he bends again, one arm hooking under your knees, the other around your back, lifting you as if you weigh nothing.

“Jungkook-”

“Save your breath,” he says, eyes fixed forward. “You’re not walking on it.”

The world tilts in a different way now, the solid heat of him under you, the steady rhythm of his steps carrying you through the garden paths. Court attendants bow as he passes, some openly staring, but he doesn’t slow.

He carries you up the palace steps, down the corridors, and straight into your chambers-  only setting you down on the bed once you’re surrounded by the familiar silk and shadow.

His hands linger for a heartbeat longer than necessary before he steps back. “Rest.”

Then the mask is back, and he’s gone.

═══════

The physician leaves just before noon.

“It’s only a mild sprain,” he’d said, binding your ankle with clean linen and instructing you to stay off it for a day or two. “Nothing serious, Your Highness. As long as you rest.”

You’re propped against a fortress of pillows in your bed, silk sheets spilling over your legs, a cup of cooling tea at your side. The room is too still, too quiet. You’ve never been good at sitting still.

Your ladies-in-waiting keep offering to read to you or bring fresh flowers, but you send them away after the fourth polite interruption. It’s not their fault you feel caged. The crown fits heavy enough without being confined to your chambers.

You’re staring at the gilded canopy when there’s a knock at the door.

“Come in,” you call.

Jungkook steps inside.

You blink. “I thought you had meetings all afternoon.”

“I do,” he says, but he doesn’t leave. He crosses the room, the sound of his boots muffled against the carpet. “I wanted to see if you were following orders.”

“Orders?” you repeat, arching a brow. “I didn’t realize marriage came with a chain of command.”

His gaze flicks to your bandaged ankle. “You’re still in bed. That’s a start.”

You expect him to leave after that, but instead, he moves toward the table and pours you fresh tea, setting the cup within reach. You catch the faintest furrow between his brows, the one that appears when he’s thinking too much.

“You didn’t have to-”

“It was closer to me than to you,” he cuts in.

“Right,” you murmur, hiding a small smile behind the rim of your cup.

He stands there a moment longer, as if debating something. “If you need anything-”

“I’ll send for a guard?” you finish for him, teasing.

His eyes narrow slightly, but there’s no heat in it. “Exactly.”

He turns to go, and something in you flares- curiosity, stubbornness, maybe both. “Jungkook.”

He pauses at the door.

“You caught me before I fell,” you say. “Why?”

For a heartbeat, his eyes meet yours. “Because you’re mine to protect.”

Then the door shuts behind him.

You’re left staring at it, unsure whether his words were a claim, a duty… or something else entirely.

═══════

By morning, the dull ache in your ankle has faded to something tolerable. Not gone- but not enough to keep you trapped in bed.

You dress yourself in a pale blue day gown, something soft and unassuming, and braid your hair back in a way that says I am perfectly fine, thank you. Your ladies-in-waiting hover nervously as you make your way to the sitting room.

“Your Highness,” one begins gently, “perhaps you should-”

“I’ve rested long enough,” you say, taking the first careful step toward the door. “There are things I need to see to.”

They exchange looks but say nothing.

The moment you open the door, you nearly collide with him.

Jungkook stands there, dressed in deep charcoal, the morning light catching on the silver clasp at his cloak. His gaze drops immediately to your feet, to the subtle limp you try- and fail- to hide.

“Where are you going?” His tone is calm, but there’s a weight to it.

“For a walk,” you say. “It’s a palace, not a prison.”

His jaw flexes. “Not without me.”

You fold your arms. “You’re busy. I can manage.”

He steps past you into the room, closing the door behind him. “You can barely walk without favoring that ankle.”

“I can walk,” you counter. “And I intend to.”

Something flickers in his eyes- not anger, not quite- before he exhales sharply. “Then I’ll escort you.”

It’s not a request.

You consider arguing, but there’s something in his stance, in the set of his shoulders, that tells you it will only waste time. So instead, you smile- sweet, false. “As you wish, Your Highness.”

He offers his arm. You take it, because refusing would feel like losing, and you refuse to lose to him in anything.

The walk is slow, deliberate. The gardens are busy with attendants pruning roses and sweeping paths. You can feel the eyes on you- the court always watches. Jungkook’s hand stays steady under yours, guiding you away from uneven ground, adjusting his pace without comment when you falter.

It’s infuriating how natural it feels.

When you reach the far end of the garden, you stop beside the fountain, pretending to admire the lilies floating on the surface.

“See?” you say. “Perfectly capable.”

He studies you for a moment, his expression unreadable. “You’re stubborn.”

“And you’re controlling,” you reply. “Somehow, we make it work.”

For a moment, it almost feels like truce.

Almost.

Then he says, “Next time, I’ll carry you from the start.”

And before you can respond, he turns and starts back toward the palace, leaving you to follow with the faintest, most infuriating smile tugging at your lips.

═══════

The royal conservatory smells faintly of jasmine and politics.

Today’s luncheon is meant to honor a visiting trade delegation, but as always, it’s also a performance- a showcase of unity between the prince and his consort. You sit at Jungkook’s right, posture perfect, hands folded loosely in your lap.

The conversation drifts from tariffs to art to upcoming festivals. You answer politely when addressed, keeping your smile fixed in place.

Until Lord Jimin speaks.

He’s old money, old power, and old enough to think his opinion is law. Leaning back in his chair with a practiced smile, he says, “It’s lovely to see you out and about again, Your Highness. I’d heard you’d been… recovering from a fall? I suppose marble steps can be dangerous… for those unused to palace life.”

A polite ripple of laughter travels the table. The words are coated in courtesy, but the meaning is sharp- a reminder you’re an outsider, unaccustomed, and perhaps unfit.

You meet his gaze without flinching. “It’s true. I fell. Luckily, my husband was there to catch me.”

“Yes,” Jimin says smoothly, “though I imagine His Highness has far more pressing matters than tending to scraped ankles. Affairs of state require… sturdier footing.”

It’s a dig. Gentle enough to pass as banter, but you hear the insinuation beneath it: fragile, ornamental, a burden.

You’re ready to respond, but Jungkook speaks first.

“Lord Jimin,” he says, voice even but edged with steel, “you mistake grace for weakness.” The table quiets instantly. “The Princess has already proven herself in council and in matters of policy. She is not a burden. She is my partner.”

Jimin blinks, caught off guard.

“And,” Jungkook continues, his gaze locking with the older lord’s, “if I ever hear you suggest otherwise again- even in jest- I will ensure you regret it.”

A ripple of stunned silence follows. Somewhere down the table, a glass is set down a little too quickly.

Jimin forces a smile. “Of course, Your Highness. I meant no offense.”

“Then perhaps,” Jungkook says, his tone softening but not losing its weight, “you should choose your words more carefully.”

The conversation resumes, but the balance at the table has shifted.

You glance at Jungkook. His expression is unreadable, his focus already on the next course being served.

But under the table, you let your fingers brush his hand- not a thank-you, exactly, but an acknowledgment.

He doesn’t pull away.

The luncheon ends in a blur of polite farewells and murmured congratulations. You don’t remember half the names of the people you shook hands with- not because they weren’t important, but because you could feel Jungkook beside you.

Not just beside you. With you.

Every time you replay his words- “She is my partner”- your pulse stirs a little faster.

The doors close behind the last of the guests. Servants move to collect the empty glasses, but Jungkook’s voice stops them.

“Leave us.”

The room empties quickly. You’re still standing by the long banquet table when he crosses to you, his steps unhurried, but his gaze locked on yours like he’s already made a decision.

“You enjoyed that,” you murmur, chin lifting.

“What?” he says, stopping just close enough that you feel the warmth of him.

“Defending me.” You allow a slow smile. “Making it clear I’m yours.”

His hand is at your waist before you can react, pulling you flush against him. “You are mine.”

The words aren’t cold this time. They’re hot. Dangerous.

You open your mouth to retort, but his lips crash onto yours- not claiming like before, but taking, deep and insistent, like he’s been holding it back all afternoon. His tongue pushes past your lips, tasting you, coaxing a soft sound from the back of your throat.

Your fingers curl into his jacket, dragging him closer. The kiss breaks just long enough for him to murmur, voice rough, “Tell me to stop.”

You don’t.

He lifts you onto the table in one motion, your skirts spilling over polished wood. His mouth moves to your neck, your jaw, his teeth scraping lightly before his hands shove fabric higher and higher, until your thighs are bare.

“This isn’t about duty,” you breathe, half dazed.

He pushes you back so you’re lying on the table, bunching your dress up, and then he drops to his knees between your legs. Your breath catches. His hands grip your thighs, spreading you open. 

“No,” he agrees, his voice low, almost dangerous. “This is about you.”

And then his mouth is on you- a slow, deliberate lick over your slit that makes you jolt.

He doesn’t give you time to think before his mouth is on you- hot, wet, and devastatingly slow. His tongue slides from your entrance to your clit in one unhurried stroke, making you jolt.

His hands grip your thighs like steel, keeping you open while his tongue circles lazily, deliberately avoiding giving you enough pressure to push you over. He pulls back just enough to blow a warm breath over you, watching the way you shiver.

“Already wet,” he murmurs, smirking before diving in again, licking you like he’s savoring every drop. He alternates between slow, languid strokes and fast, focused flicks over your clit until your hips are rocking into his face.

You try to pull him closer, but he shakes his head against you, forcing you to take his pace. “You’ll come when I say,” he growls, before sealing his mouth over your clit and sucking hard. The sound that tears from your throat is half-moan, half-curse.

He doesn’t stop. His tongue fucks into you, wet and insistent, before returning to your clit. The obscene sounds of his mouth on you fill the room, mingling with your ragged breathing. You’re panting now, thighs trembling against his grip, every muscle wound tight.

When your climax finally breaks, it’s sharp and shuddering, your back arching off the table. He holds you there, riding out every wave, his mouth never leaving you until you whimper from oversensitivity.

Only then does he rise, mouth slick, eyes dark. He leans over you, his cock already pressing against your thigh. “You don’t get to keep pretending after this,” you whisper, still catching your breath.

His hips still for a second, gaze locked on yours. Then he leans to your ear. “Then don’t give me a reason to.”

He frees himself and pushes into you in one deep, steady thrust, the thick stretch forcing a sharp gasp from your lips. The aftershocks of your orgasm make every inch of him feel amplified, your walls fluttering around him as he bottoms out.

He doesn’t give you time to settle- his hips draw back slow, almost teasing, before slamming forward again, the table groaning under the force. The rhythm he finds is hard and sure, each thrust hitting deep enough to make your breath hitch. His hands grip your hips, dragging you into every snap of his body, the sound of skin meeting skin sharp in the quiet room.

You cling to him, nails digging into the back of his jacket as he fucks you like he’s trying to brand himself into your muscles. The slick slide between you is filthy, your wetness coating him, making each thrust faster, harder.

When his mouth finds yours again, the kiss is desperate-  teeth, tongue, shared breath- his pace never faltering. He swallows your moans, dragging them out until they’re rough, uncontrolled sounds you swore you wouldn’t make for him.

Your legs wrap tighter around his waist, angling him deeper, and he growls low in his chest, the sound vibrating against your mouth. His hand slips between you, thumb finding your clit and circling just hard enough to make your vision blur.

“Come for me,” he orders, voice ragged. You do- helplessly- your body clenching around him as the climax rips through you. He groans, hips driving deep one last time before he spills inside you, grinding through the aftershocks until you’re both shaking.

For a moment, the only sound is your mingled breathing.

When it’s over, he stays inside you just long enough to make you feel the weight of it- then pulls out, tucking himself back in with slow precision. He adjusts his jacket, then reaches down, his thumb brushing the corner of your mouth, a faint smirk tugging at his lips.

“You should eat dinner in your chambers tonight,” he says.

It sounds like an order. It feels like care.

═══════

It’s only been a few days since the luncheon- and what happened after- but already, the edges between you and Jungkook are back to cutting.

The council chamber is thick with debate. A dispute over land rights has ministers talking over one another, and you’ve had enough. You speak up, cutting through the noise with a solution that’s both strategic and bold.

The room goes quiet. Even the scribe pauses his pen.

Jungkook’s expression doesn’t change, but you catch the way his knuckles tap the table once- a subtle warning meant for you.

When the meeting adjourns, you rise with the others, smoothing your skirts. You expect him to walk beside you. Instead, he barely glances your way.

“You enjoy taking command in front of my council,” he says as you step into the corridor. His tone is light enough that an outsider wouldn’t catch the bite beneath it.

“They were wasting time,” you reply evenly. “I offered a solution.”

“You offered my solution,” he says, eyes forward. “Before I could give it.”

“That’s not my fault,” you counter, but he’s already striding ahead.

By the time you reach the great hall, he’s gone. No explanation. No dismissal. Just gone.

You wander the palace to cool your temper, your steps echoing in the quiet corridors. You’ve never cared much for the east wing- it’s quieter, more private- but today, you find yourself there.

A door at the end of the hall stands slightly ajar.

Jungkook’s office.

You hesitate, but curiosity wins.

Inside, the space is meticulously ordered- shelves lined with ledgers, a polished desk, the faint scent of ink and parchment in the air. You trail your fingers along the edge of the desk, noticing the papers stacked with military precision.

And then, near the bottom of one stack, you see it.

An envelope. Unsealed. Your name isn’t on it and the handwriting is Jungkook’s.

The date at the top freezes your breath in your chest- the day after your wedding.

You shouldn’t read it. You know that. But your fingers are already sliding the page free.

The first word you see is her. 

Jisoo.

Your stomach twists.

You look toward the door- still closed- then back at the page, your pulse loud in your ears.

You sink into his chair, the letter trembling slightly in your hands.

Whatever’s written here, you already know it’s going to hurt.

═══════

My dearest Jisoo,

I should not be writing to you. Every reason I have been given tells me to let go- to accept the reality they have bound me to. But it is not reality I am living in. It is a sentence.

Yesterday, I stood at the altar with your sister. I said the vows. I placed the ring on her finger. I lifted her veil. And the entire time, all I could think was how wrong it was that it was her standing there, and not you.

You should have been my bride. You should have worn the crown beside me.

But politics is a crueler ruler than either of us. You know as well as I do that your father would never have allowed it- not with the trade agreement your marriage prospects could secure for your kingdom.

You were promised long before I had the right to ask.

Lord Dae-Hyun’s second son was a match your father could not afford to lose, and once your name was spoken, it could not be withdrawn. By the time I realized, you were already gone- sealed off by duty, unreachable by even my title.

They told me it was impossible. That I had to take the match offered. That she was the only way to solidify the alliance.

As though I should be grateful.

I am not.

Y/N is… restless. Too quick to speak, too unwilling to simply be still. She moves like she’s waiting for a fight that no one has offered her, and perhaps that is the part I resent most- her constant need to be seen, to be heard. Even in these first hours as husband and wife, she seems determined to prove something, though I cannot imagine what it is, or to whom.

She will make noise, I am sure, and perhaps even cause enough distraction to make the ministers believe she is worth the trouble.

But she is not you.

She does not have your grace. Your steadiness. The way you can command a room without raising your voice.

When I look at her, I see only the shadow of what could have been. And it is unbearable to wake each day beside the wrong sister, knowing the one I wanted most is still within reach, yet impossibly far.

I do not expect you to answer this. Perhaps you will not even read it. But I needed you to know that, in every way that matters, I am still yours.

I will always be yours.

- Jungkook

═══════

You don’t remember standing.

One moment, you’re staring at the ink-  the words curling across the page like they were meant to strangle you- and the next, you’re shoving the letter back into the envelope with shaking hands.

Your legs move without thought, carrying you out of his office and through the palace corridors. You don’t care if anyone sees you. You just need to be away from there. Away from him.

By the time you reach your chambers, your breath is uneven, your vision swimming. The ladies-in-waiting rush to greet you, offering tea, asking if you’d like to change before dinner.

“Leave,” you say, your voice tight.

They freeze. “Your Highness-”

“Please,” you add, softer this time, but your voice cracks around the word. “I need to be alone.”

They bow and file out, glancing back as though worried to leave you like this. The door shuts.

The silence is crushing.

You press your back against it for a moment before sliding down to the floor. The sob breaks free before you can stop it-  raw, shattering, the kind that leaves you gasping.

You push yourself up and stagger to the bed, sinking into the mattress as if the weight of the letter is still pressing down on you. The tears come harder now, unstoppable. You press your hands over your mouth to muffle the sounds, but it doesn’t matter. There’s no one left to hear.

Every word replays in your mind- restless, wrong sister, always be yours. Each one cuts deeper, tearing through every fragile thread of dignity you’ve tried to hold together since the wedding.

Hours pass. The light outside dims to gold, then gray, then nothing. You don’t move. Dinner comes and goes. You don’t send for food. You don’t light the lamps. The only glow in the room is the faint spill of moonlight across the floor.

The knock at the door comes late. Before you can answer, it opens.

Jungkook steps inside, his expression unreadable in the dim light. “You weren’t at dinner.”

You don’t reply.

His gaze shifts to your face- the flushed skin, the reddened eyes, the damp lashes. His body stills.

“What happened?” he asks, his voice quieter now.

You just stare at him, the letter’s words burning between you like a secret only you know.

You don’t remember standing, but you’re on your feet when he steps closer.

“What happened?” he asks again.

Your fingers curl into fists at your sides. “If my father let you marry her right now,” you say, your voice shaking, “would I still be here?”

His brows draw together. “What are you talking about?”

“Answer me!” Your voice rises, breaking against the walls. “Would I still be here, Jungkook?”

His eyes narrow. “You went through my things.”

“You wrote it!” you shout, the tears burning hot again. “You wrote it the day after our wedding! You said you wished it was her. You said I was the wrong sister. You said you’d always be hers.”

His jaw tightens, but his voice stays level- too level. “And what if I did? It was the truth.”

Your breath catches.

“I married you for politics,” he says, each word deliberate, cold. “Not for love. And yes, everything in that letter is true.”

It feels like the floor drops out from under you.

You take a step back, but he follows, his voice sharper now. “You think snooping through my office will make you more than what you are? It doesn’t. You were a convenience, Y/N. Nothing more.”

The sob rips from your throat before you can stop it. “You’re cruel.”

“And you’re naive,” he snaps. “If you thought this marriage was anything else, that’s on you.”

It’s the final blow- not just the words, but the way he says them, like they’re facts, not daggers.

Your vision blurs. You turn away before he can see the collapse happening inside you. “I’m going home.”

“You can’t just-”

But you’re already moving, shoving past him, through the door, and down the corridor.

Within the hour, you’re in the stables, your guards scrambling to follow orders they didn’t expect. The palace fades behind you as the carriage rattles toward your father’s kingdom.

You don’t look back.

If you did, you might see the shadow in the window- a figure watching you leave, unmoving until you vanish from sight.

═══════

jungkook’s pov: 

The door slammed behind her hours ago. And yet, the echo of her voice still lingers.

Jungkook sits at his desk, the untouched glass of brandy in front of him reflecting the moonlight. He’d been furious when she confronted him- furious she’d been in his office, furious she’d read the letter. But fury fades fast when it’s replaced by the memory of her face, wet with tears, breaking in front of him.

Six months.

They’ve been married six months. Long enough for him to know the sound of her laughter when she’s not guarding it, the precise way her brow furrows when she’s deciding whether to speak her mind, the warmth in her voice when she’s talking to anyone who isn’t him.

And long enough for him to notice her- truly notice her. The way she moves, carries herself, commands attention without even trying. The way her beauty isn’t something the court dresses gave her, but something she wears like armor.

He’d told himself from the start that she was a political necessity, nothing more. The letter he’d written to Jisoo had been the truth back then or at least the truth he’d chosen to believe. But now?

Now he remembers the garden. How light she’d felt in his arms when he carried her back to her chambers. How she hadn’t flinched when Lord Jimin made his sly dig, but met it with a smile that made Jungkook want to break the man’s teeth.

The way her hand had brushed his under the table after he defended her. The faint smile she tried to hide.

And after everyone left , the way she’d come apart under his hands. How the urgency between them had been more than anger, more than duty. The taste of her still lingers on his tongue, the sound of her voice when she moaned his name still carved into his memory. It hadn’t been detached, like before- not when he was buried inside her, not when his mouth was on her, not when her nails clawed at his shoulders like she was trying to hold him there forever. He’d been closer to her in that hour than in the entire six months of their marriage.

God, he’d said she was a convenience. Nothing more.

The lie tastes bitter.

He pushes back from the desk and stands abruptly, the chair scraping the floor. His coat is on in seconds, boots echoing against the stone floors as he makes for the stables.

It doesn’t matter that it’s past midnight. It doesn’t matter that the journey to her father’s kingdom will take hours.

He has to see her.

Not as a prince, not as a husband fulfilling some duty- but as a man who knows he’s made a mistake.

The groomsman barely has time to saddle his horse before Jungkook swings into the saddle. The cold night air bites at his skin, but it’s nothing compared to the emptiness in the palace without her.

He rides hard.

He’s going to bring her home.

═══════

The warmth of your father’s manor is different from the one you left.

Here, the air doesn’t feel like it’s pressing down on you. The corridors smell faintly of cedar and fresh bread instead of cold stone. You can breathe without worrying about who’s watching.

For the first time in months, you let yourself sit without the weight of the crown. Wrapped in a thick blanket in your father’s private sitting room, you sip tea, listening to the muted hum of distant conversation.

You’re not healed. You know that. But for now, you’re home.

The knock on the front doors comes just as you set your cup down. Footsteps cross the marble foyer, and then- a voice you never thought you’d hear here.

“Is she here?”

Your blood runs cold.

Jisoo’s voice answers, careful but unmistakably surprised. “Jungkook.”

You freeze, every muscle locking in place.

“I need to see her,” he says- no hesitation, no preamble.

Before you can even decide whether to stand or run, he’s inside. His eyes find you across the room in an instant. And then he’s moving- past Jisoo, past the threshold, crossing the space between you like nothing else exists. He’s in front of you before you can even get to your feet.

Jungkook drops to his knees, the movement sharp and sudden, his hands coming up to cradle your face like he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he doesn’t hold on. His eyes search yours- not for anger, not for forgiveness, but for proof you’re real.