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aleksatia · 3 months ago

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Possession, Obsession, Devotion: A Study in Five Men

Nope, I haven’t vanished. Super grateful for all your messages and the sweet support — seriously, thank you. Just swamped with work right now, so writing’s slowed down a bit. Still working on your requests, I promise! And I’m knee-deep in a pretty massive, emotionally wrecking angst based on a Songfic prompt. While that one’s cooking, I thought I’d drop another batch of my random writer notes — all bundled up in one chaotic little post.

CW/TW: Headcanons, Possessive Behavior, Obsessive Love, Jealousy, Power Imbalance, Toxic Romance, Red Flags Treated as Romance, Intimacy with Control Undertones, Emotional Manipulation (Mild), Dubious Coping Mechanisms, Intense Emotional Dependency, Suggestive Themes, Mild Sexual Content, Unhealthy Attachment Framed as Devotion Genre: Romance-Infused, Erotically-Charged Drabbles with a Generous Side of Fluff Words Count: 8.6K

5 Petty Jealousies That Reveal Just How Much Caleb’s Obsessed With You

1. You call another man “handsome” — even as a joke. You were teasing. Flirting, in that harmless, breezy way of yours. Caleb laughed. Then immediately kissed you like he needed to reassert territorial dominance with tongue and body weight. Funny how your jokes always end with your back against the wall and his hand on your throat. Lovingly.

2. You go to someone else for help instead of him. You needed tech support. A charger. Help moving the couch. And instead of calling your six-foot-two, military-trained, emotionally unstable boyfriend — you asked Xavier. Caleb didn’t say anything. Just stood in the doorway, watching, calculating how long it would take to move the entire solar system to make sure you never do that again.

3. You don’t sit on his lap when there’s clearly space.You chose the chair. Next to him. Not on him. He’s not mad. No, no. He's just questioning the entire fabric of your connection and whether you’ve lost all sense of instinct. And when you finally realize and climb into his lap? He sighs like a man being restored to life.

4. You post a photo where you're not touching him.Nice shot. Great lighting. Cute outfit. But why is he two feet away and not glued to your side like a shadow with military clearance? His arm belongs around your waist. His hand belongs on your thigh. And your caption? Should’ve been his name, followed by a possessive noun.

5. You forget to wear his dog tags. He left them for you. Carefully. On your nightstand. The same tags he’s worn through hell. And you? Walked out the door wearing a cute sweater and nothing that says “belonging to Colonel Caleb.” He’ll never say a word. He’ll just strip you slow the second you get home and fasten them back around your neck himself. With teeth.

5 Lies Caleb Tells Himself About You

1. “I don’t care that she uses my toothbrush.”You could take a fresh one. You don’t. You reach for his, same as always — like that handle belongs to you more than to him. He mutters something about germs. Then watches you rinse with that smug little smile. And later, when you're asleep, he moves it back to your side of the sink. Right where you like it.

2. “She can wear whatever she wants.”And you do. His shirt. His flight jacket. That tiny black top you swear is “practical.” He acts unbothered. Says nothing. But the second someone else looks too long? He stands behind you. One hand on your waist. That casual kind of possessive that feels like a warning wrapped in warmth.

3. “I don’t need her to text me when she gets home.”You’re a grown woman. A Hunter. You’ve neutralized things with more teeth than common sense. You say “Don’t wait up.” He says “Sure.” Then checks his phone every ten minutes like it's a heartbeat monitor and he's waiting to hear yours again.

4. “It’s fine if she flirts. I know it’s harmless.”You’re charming. It’s part of who you are. You wink. Smile. Lean in a little too close. Caleb plays it cool. Says, “She’s always like that.” Then grabs your waist in front of everyone and whispers: “Try that again, and I’ll fuck you so hard next time you won’t remember anyone else’s name.”

5. “She doesn’t need to say she loves me every day.”You say it once. In passing. A low little “love you” as you walk away, like it’s nothing. But he hears it like an oath. And that night? He holds your hand a little tighter. Pulls your body a little closer. Not because he needs to hear it again. But because if he doesn’t touch you, he might forget how to breathe.

5 Things That Make Him Go Completely Feral (In Lust, Not Rage)

1. Your hair falls in his face. Leaning over him. Stretching across the couch. Just close enough that it brushes his cheek like it has rights. You don’t even notice. But he does. Every time. He doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t move. Just breathes in and lets the world narrow to that one soft, smug part of you.

2. You chew on your thumb when you’re thinking. Not seductively. Not even consciously. Just a tiny bite to the edge of your nail while you’re mid-rant about your latest recon or trying to remember the name of a street vendor. It’s nothing. Stupid. Barely a gesture. And yet — he stares. Tracks it like a countdown. Fists flexing slow. Jaw tight. Because that mouth should never look that innocent.

3. You interrupt him when he’s cooking. He’s focused. Knife in hand. Half-distracted by heat and oil. And then you slide in behind him. Touch his lower back. Squeeze something you shouldn’t. Say “Smells good, chef,” with a grin that makes his whole spine forget how to hold. He curses. Tries to shoo you off. You lick something off his finger. And now dinner’s going to burn.

4. You try on his Fleet cap like it’s a joke. You lift it off the rack. Set it crooked on your head. Salute with two fingers and that smile that once made him fall off a training tower. “Colonel,” you say. And he’s gone. He should laugh. He doesn’t. He walks over, takes it off you slow, and kisses your temple like he’s reassigning you to a very different kind of mission.

5. You say “I’m yours”. Not in bed. Not in public. Just… casually. In passing. In that low voice you only use when something’s real. “I’m yours.”He looks at you like you just disarmed a bomb with your bare hands. And then he ruins you for saying it so lightly.

5 Power Couple Moments That Made Everyone Else Jealous (And a Little Scared)

1. You’re the only one allowed to fly with him in his military jet.Clearance denied. Protocol says no. Regulations triple-confirm it. And yet — you’re in the co-pilot seat, boots up, fingers tracing buttons you’re not supposed to touch. He doesn’t stop you. Someone once asked why you get to ride with him when no one else does. He looked up from the cockpit and said, “She’s my gravity.” End of discussion.

2. You only need to place your hand on his to calm him down.No words. No pleading. No strategic de-escalation. Just your fingers, settling lightly over his, when something in him starts to coil too tight. And just like that — his spine eases. The heat in his eyes lowers by a degree. People have seen him end arguments with three words. They’ve never seen him go silent for anyone but you.

3. You’re the only person he’ll interrupt a briefing for.He’s mid-sentence. Room full of officers. Tactical projections glowing on the wall. His phone buzzes. He glances down, sees your name — and pauses. “Give me five,” he says. And walks out without waiting for permission. Someone once asked who it was. He said, “The only priority higher than this fleet.” No one asked again.

4. You walk in on his arm at the Farspace Fleet annual gala.He’s in dress whites. You’re in black. And the room — full of admirals, envoys, diplomats — parts like mist when you enter. He doesn’t introduce you. He doesn’t need to. You’re not just his date. You’re the one who makes him dangerous in silence. And everyone knows it.

5. You don’t need words to communicate.One glance. A tilt of your head. A tiny shift in posture across the room. He’s already moving. Already reading you like mission data. To others, it looks like magic. Intuition. Maybe telepathy. But for you two? It’s just muscle memory — built from years of almosts, nevers, and finallys.

5 Times Caleb Was a Walking Red Flag But You Loved Him Anyway

1. He pulled the full personnel file on a man you once smiled at.You were being polite. Friendly. The guy asked something harmless, you laughed. By morning, Caleb had his record open on a secure datapad, scrolling like he wasn’t reading a life — just calculating the risk factor. You asked what he was doing. He said, “I like knowing who wants what’s mine.” And then kissed you like he hoped you never asked him to stop.

2. He showed up at your door at 02:03 AM. Soaking wet. Furious. Silent.You missed one message. One. He waited. Thirty minutes. An hour. And then something in him snapped. No threats. No drama. Just the sound of his knock like a warning shot. You opened the door. He didn’t speak. Just stared. And then pulled you in with a grip like survival wasn’t optional anymore.

3. He scared the hell out of a junior pilot for asking your name.The kid was fresh. Eager. Smiled a little too long. Said, “Hey, what should I call you?” You started to answer. Then turned — and saw Caleb across the room. Expression calm. Stance neutral. Eyes loaded. The pilot apologized before you even said a word.

4. He slammed his hand on the table when you joked about breaking up.Just a joke. A throwaway line. Something stupid like “Guess I’ll go find someone less intense.” And his hand hit the surface before the words fully left your mouth. Not loud. Not violent. Just final. He didn’t yell. Didn’t argue. Just looked at you like you’d put a knife in his ribs and smiled about it. You never made that joke again.

5. He called you “dangerous” — and meant it like a vow.It was late. You were arguing. You said something sharp. He caught your wrist and said it low, almost reverent: “You’re dangerous.” But not like an accusation. Like awe. Like worship. Like he’d already decided to stay, even if you wrecked him completely. Even if he’d have to protect the world from you. Or protect you from himself.

5 Petty Jealousies That Reveal Just How Much Zayne’s Obsessed With You

1. Someone else bandaged your scratch. Just a graze. A stupid piece of shrapnel across your forearm. A colleague wrapped it up. No big deal. You came home smiling. Told him it barely hurt. He nodded. Quiet. Then excused himself to the kitchen. Five minutes later, he returned with antiseptic, clean gauze, and the words: “Take it off. I’m doing it properly.” You didn’t argue. Neither did he. 2. Someone at work lent you their umbrella. A man. It was raining. You forgot yours. He offered. You accepted. Zayne didn’t say a thing when you mentioned it over dinner. Just hummed. Neutral. The next morning, you found a new umbrella in your bag. Carbon fiber. Windproof. Labeled discreetly with your initials. You didn’t ask how he knew the exact weight your bag could carry without straining your shoulder. 3. You asked the waiter to recommend a wine. It was harmless. Polite. You were curious. But Zayne was sitting right there. He didn’t blink. Just looked at the waiter, then at you. Then took the list back. “Actually,” he said, calm as glass, “she prefers reds with less acidity. I’ll order.” You nodded. The waiter nodded. And somewhere between the clink of glasses, you realized that wasn't about wine at all. 4. You didn’t invite him to your morning training. He’d had a night shift. Surgery ran late. You wanted him to rest. So you left quietly. He woke up to an empty bed, your gym bag missing, and a silence that felt like a closed door. You came back to find his routine disrupted, his pulse still too fast — and a protein shake mixed just how you like it, chilled and waiting on the table. He never mentioned it. But now, if you decide to “let him rest” again… your training starts later. And doesn’t involve clothes. 5. You called another man “smart.” It was a game show. Trivia night. Some stranger on-screen made a clever move. You smiled. “Wow. That was actually really smart.” Zayne didn’t look up from his tablet. Didn’t even shift. But ten minutes later, you found yourself in a very precise debate about probability, strategy, and why that move wasn’t that brilliant after all. You didn’t argue. You just leaned closer. He didn’t smirk, but you felt it anyway.

5 Lies Zayne Tells Himself About You

1. "I’m just your cardiologist during exams." It’s clinical. Professional. Necessary. He listens to your heartbeat, takes your vitals, asks you to breathe deeper — deeper. You unbutton your shirt. He doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t look. Doesn’t feel anything. Except for the part where he adjusts his gloves a little too tightly. And maybe takes one extra second to remove the stethoscope from your skin. 2. "Lunch tastes the same without you." He orders the same thing. Same café. Same tea. But the pastry tastes off. The space feels louder. The table — emptier. He tells himself it’s fine. Then brings the leftovers back to his office. Doesn’t touch them. Just leaves the box where your hand might find it later. 3. "I don’t need to pick you up." It’s logical. You’re a professional. Your job runs over sometimes. So does his. But your message was short. The streetlights are on. The buses are unreliable. He checks traffic cams. Weather. Public transit delays. Then sits very still, staring at his phone, wondering how to offer you a ride without making it sound like panic. 4. "I’m not checking. I’m sleeping." You once left while he was asleep. You thought it was kinder. Quieter. Now he says he “needed water” or “had a dream.” But every night, at 3 AM, his hand reaches. Just to feel your back. Your wrist. The smallest proof that you haven’t disappeared again. 5. "Short skirts are inefficient." He says they’re impractical. Not suited for cold weather. Definitely not for terrain with hostile wanderer activity. You raise a brow. He adds, “You’re not seventeen. Dress like it.” But the second no one’s watching, his hand is already sliding up your thigh under the table. And when you raise a brow at him, he just says, flat: “Checking for circulation.” You’re not fooled. He’s already failed the mission.

5 Things That Make Zayne Go Completely Feral (In Lust, Not Rage)

1. You straighten his tie. You’re not thinking about it. Just reaching out, adjusting the knot, smoothing the line down his chest like it’s second nature. He stays still. Breath held. Eyes on your face. You step back. He doesn’t. Because now all he can think about is using that same tie to bind your wrists to the chair in his office — and how many minutes he can steal between appointments without compromising your breathing. 2. You dip your finger into the frosting of his pastry. You don’t ask. Just lean in, collect a bit of cream with your fingertip — and taste it. Oblivious. Innocent. Distracted by something else. He watches. Silently. And now the fork in his hand feels criminally unnecessary, because his mouth is dry, his mind’s gone blank, and he’s halfway to pulling you into his lap just to return the favor — with interest. 3. You take off your bra without removing your shirt. It’s casual. Automatic. You’re talking about your day, laughing, and then — One arm out. Then the other. The strap slides through the sleeve and vanishes into your laundry bag like it never existed. His brain glitches. His hands twitch. And he will absolutely spend the rest of the evening pretending to listen while picturing every technical step of reversing that maneuver with his teeth. 4. You imitate him. Badly. You’re wearing his lab coat. His glasses. Sitting at his desk, brows drawn, lips pressed tight. Your impression is awful. He should be annoyed. But instead — he watches. Sharp. Quiet. And when you finally laugh and start to take it off, he gets up. Takes the coat from your shoulders himself. And tells you, too evenly, “You forgot the gloves.” 5. You trace lazy shapes on his wrist while talking about something unrelated. You’re saying something about your neighbor’s cat. Something trivial. But your fingers are moving in a slow, absent pattern across his skin. And Zayne — who has operated on live hearts under pressure, who has held lives in one hand and death in the other — is currently struggling not to grab your wrist and drag you onto the desk. Because apparently, nothing in this galaxy has the precision impact of your fingertip.

5 Power Couple Moments That Made Everyone Else Jealous (And a Little Scared)

1. You have a keycard to his office.Not a guest pass. Not a shared access code. A permanent, personalized, high-level card to a room most staff can’t even knock on without permission. You walked in one day mid-shift, casual, spinning the card between your fingers like it was a hairpin. Three nurses saw. One dropped her tablet. Rumors started before you even closed the door. Zayne didn’t correct them.

2. When he received a prestigious award, the first person he thanked was you.Best cardiothoracic surgeon of the year. Cameras flashing. Applause rising. Everyone expected a speech about innovation and responsibility. Instead, he said: “I’d like to thank the one person who keeps me alive enough to do this work. My partner. My favorite interruption.”Then he looked straight at you. The auditorium melted.

3. You’re both dressed like weapons. And everyone notices.He wears tailored coats, precision-cut collars, charcoal palettes like a tactical signature.You? Heels like blades. A suit that redefines “combat-ready.” And when you walk together — sharp, silent, side by side — people stop talking. Someone once tried to photograph you. The headline read: Unknown dignitaries arrive. Security does not comment.

4. You don’t argue. You duet.Someone crossed a line. Loud, drunk, smug. Zayne responded first — clean, cold, just one sentence long. The man blinked. Started to retort. You finished it for him. Elegant, sharp, no profanity required. He left. Fast. And you turned back to Zayne like nothing happened — while everyone else tried to recover from what could only be described as a linguistic orgasm.

5. He opens doors, buttons coats, and moves chairs like it’s instinct.Not performative. Not flashy. Just… precise. He adjusts your sleeve without thinking. Helps you into the car like it’s always been his hand. You barely register it. But the woman across the street? The one who saw it all from behind her coffee cup? She’s still texting her group chat about “the man in the long coat and the woman who ruined my standards.”

5 Times Zayne Was a Walking Red Flag But You Loved Him Anyway

1. He gets live data from your heart monitor.Your Hunter’s Watch sends updates to the cloud. Zayne rerouted the feed to his private tablet. “Just in case,” he said. Now he knows when your pulse spikes. When you’re injured. When you don’t sleep. You never gave him access. You never had to. The first time he called mid-mission to say “slow your breathing” — you realized he wasn’t tracking. He was watching over.

2. He absolutely hates when you drive. Always.You're capable. Fast. Efficient. And yet — every time you take the wheel, something in him shuts down. He doesn’t argue. Doesn’t protest. Just goes silent. And stares at the road like it personally offended him. He says, “It’s fine.” But he holds the dashboard too tightly for that to be true.

3. He freezes every time you say “I can handle it.”You mean well. You’re strong. You are capable. But when you brush him off with a casual “I’ve got this,” he doesn’t nod. Doesn’t smile. He just stops. Eyes unreadable. Hands still. And when you come back later — even fine — there’s already a backup plan on your datapad. Three versions. In color.

4. He never replies to emotional messages right away.You send: “I miss you. A lot.” His read receipt appears. Then… nothing. For two hours. And just when you start to spiral — he sends a photo. Of your favorite pastry. Waiting on his table. With one word: “Soon.” You hate how well it works.

5. He spoke to the man flirting with you like he was reviewing his autopsy.It was harmless. A drink. A joke. A compliment. You laughed. Zayne didn’t. He stepped in, shook the man’s hand, and said: "Tell me, has anyone ever checked your prefrontal lobe for impulse control irregularities?"The man left. Quickly. You rolled your eyes. Zayne didn’t apologize. He just took your hand. And changed the subject. Completely calm. Fully satisfied.

5 Petty Jealousies That Reveal Just How Much Rafayel’s Obsessed With You

1. Someone comments “🔥” under your photo — and you like it.He sees it. Of course he does. He sees everything. You think it’s harmless. He thinks it’s appalling that someone dared mark your beauty with an emoji better suited to grilled meat. He says nothing. But that night, you get a charcoal sketch of yourself in your favorite pose, signed with a tiny flame in the corner. When you ask about it, he hums. “Oh, just honoring your admirers’ creative input.”

2. You linger too long in front of another artist’s painting.Not just glance. Linger. Eyes soft. Head tilted. That thoughtful little breath you take when something moves you. He stands beside you, perfectly still. Smiling. Then leans in and whispers, “Cutie, if you start weeping, I may need to challenge the gallery owner to a duel.” You're not sure if he’s joking. You’re also not sure you want him to be.

3. You talk about a beautiful place you visited… without him.You’re glowing. Describing the light, the air, the view. He listens, nods, even asks questions. Then: “And did the sun taste the same without me there?” You pause. He smiles, all charm and cheekbones. “I’m just wondering how it dared rise, knowing we weren’t together.”

4. You send him a photo — and there’s someone else’s hand in the frame.You didn’t notice it. He did. He stares at the image like it’s a crime scene. Zooms in. Later, he replies: “Beautiful composition. Fascinating use of background tension. Would love to discuss the symbolism of that wrist — whose is it?” You laugh. He doesn’t.

5. You say some actor is “exactly your type.”He doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t blink. Just goes very still, then casually asks, “Before or after makeup?” Later, you find your datapad background changed. It’s him. In perfect lighting. Shirt unbuttoned just so. The caption reads: “Still unsure who your type is? Look into my eyes. You’ll remember.”

5 Lies Rafayel Tells Himself About You

1. “I didn’t paint you. It’s just resemblance.”He insists it’s a study of emotion. A symbol. A face from memory. But the tilt of the head, the mouth, the birthmark near the collarbone — they’re all yours. You ask, teasing: “Is that me?” He blinks. Smiles slowly. “Cutie,” he says, “I wouldn’t paint you without permission.” And then changes the subject. Very deliberately.

2. “I don't reread your old messages.”He’s far too elegant for that. Far too composed. Except on quiet nights. On long flights. In museums where the silence scratches at his skin. Then he opens the archive. Just for the rhythm of your words. The accidental poetry. The way you once wrote “come home soon” like it meant more than time and place. He says it’s for “emotional reference.” He lies beautifully.

3. “I don't watch your mouth when you talk.”He’s an artist. A visual thinker. Of course he looks at faces. But not like that. Not at yours. Not like he’s memorizing the shape of every syllable just to feel them later against his throat. Not like he’s fantasizing mid-conversation about shutting you up with his tongue and tasting the sentence off your lips. No. Never. He’s listening.

4. “I haven’t memorized your scent through every season.”He claims not to notice. But he knows the spring version of you — soft rain, citrus skin, the aftershock of lilac. He knows the winter version — leather gloves, cinnamon breath, quiet wool. He doesn’t name them. Doesn’t chase the memory. But when you walk past — his eyes close. Briefly. Automatically. Like he’s gathering air before going under.

5. “I don't imagine your name with mine.”He’s not that romantic. Puh-lease. Marriage is a construct, surnames are politics, and love is beyond paperwork. He says all that with a flourish. And yet — there’s a notebook. Tucked under his mattress. Full of signatures. Yours. His. Just to see how it would look. Just in case.

5 Things That Make Rafayel Go Completely Feral (In Lust, Not Rage)

1. When you eat something juicy. Fruit. Fingers. With zero awareness.You bite into it slowly, distracted. Something sweet. Ripe. Juice glides over your lower lip, and your tongue follows without thinking. He watches, motionless. Not breathing. Not blinking. You glance at him. He tilts his head. Smiles. Says lightly: "That peach is about to become my personal enemy." You laugh. He doesn’t. He’s too busy wondering how it’s possible to be jealous of the fruit.

2. When you kiss his hand instead of his mouth. He leans in, expecting lips. Contact. Heat. And instead — you take his hand. Press a kiss into his palm. Soft. Deliberate. His breath catches. His throat tightens. Because that wasn’t affection. That was submission. And now he’s wondering just how far you’d let him take it. 3. When you tease him with your voice. Not the words. The tone. The whisper. You say his name like silk sliding over glass. You ask “You think so?” like it means “prove it.” You laugh — not loudly, but just enough to make his chest hurt. He could diagram it, break it into sound waves, prove the seduction in math. But instead, he just steps closer. And says, low: "Say that again. Slower." 4. When you sit on the floor, barefoot, flipping through his sketches — looking like you belong there. You’re humming something. Knees tucked up. No shoes. No guard. You tilt your head, study a piece, murmur: “I like this one.” He doesn’t even remember drawing it. He just remembers the way your hair spills over your shoulder and how the studio feels suddenly too small for how much he wants you. He doesn’t touch you. Not yet. He just watches like a starving thing. Memorizing the moment in case he dies of it later. 5. When you say “more.” In any context. “More sugar.” “More time.” “More.” That’s all it takes. One syllable. One open door. You never mean it the way he hears it — but he takes it as a promise. Like permission. Like a match tossed onto something already too dry to survive. And the next time he touches you? He makes damn sure you say it again.

5 Power Couple Moments That Made Everyone Else Jealous (And a Little Scared)

1. He painted a self-portrait — with you reflected in his pupils. Not your full form. Not a shared composition. Just his face. Direct gaze. And in both eyes: you. Looking at him. Always. When the painting debuted in the gallery’s main hall, critics called it “a study in obsession.” He called it accurate. 2. In an interview, he said you’re the only one who gets his sketches. The host asked who his work goes to first — gallery, agent, press. He smiled lazily and answered, “Her.” The room stilled. “The raw ones. The incomplete. The brutal drafts no one else deserves to see.” He didn’t say your name. He didn’t have to. The moment he said it, you were already trending. 3. He delayed his own exhibition opening because you weren’t there yet. The venue was full. Lights ready. Guests murmuring. But he stood at the entrance, fingers laced behind his back, perfectly calm. “She’s on the way,” he said. “She had a prior engagement.” No one questioned him. Later, when you finally arrived — graceful, composed, in a deep sapphire gown that matched the evening — only he noticed the tiny scratch on your knuckle. The faintest shadow of something darker, just beneath the perfume. You smiled. He took your hand. And the doors opened like they’d been waiting for you all along. 4. Someone flirted with him. He looked at you. Then said: “I’m already spoken for. Permanently.” It was charming. Playful. Someone touched his wrist, laughed softly, leaned a little too close. He didn’t pull away. Didn’t react. Just turned his head toward you. Found your eyes. Then said it — quietly, cleanly, like a closing signature on a finished masterpiece. 5. At a charity auction, he sold a painting titled: “Painted Between Her Breathing and Mine.” The crowd didn’t know what to do with that. Some laughed nervously. Some applauded. The bidding started high and ended astronomical. But as the winning guest walked past you, holding the canvas with reverent hands — he still glanced back. At you. As if to say: That canvas holds the image. But I keep the original.

5 Times Rafayel Was a Walking Red Flag But You Loved Him Anyway

1. He can disappear for three days and return with, “I just needed to stop being jealous.” No warning. No calls. Just silence, like he fell off the planet. You panic. Rage. Rehearse five speeches. And then he walks in — composed, scented like night air and oil paint. “Sorry,” he says softly. “I was being irrational. Had to… recalibrate.” You want to scream. Instead, you breathe him in like he’s home. 2. He destroyed the career of a critic who called your photo “poorly lit.” It wasn’t even a real insult. Just a throwaway line in a blog. But Raf read it. Once. And within a week, that critic was blacklisted from three galleries, publicly corrected by five curators, and accidentally misquoted in a viral controversy. You found out much later. He just looked at you and said, “No one calls shadow a flaw when it falls across you.” 3. He faked an illness so you wouldn’t leave for a mission. Nothing dramatic. Just a cough. A warm forehead. You hesitated. Postponed. Stayed. The next morning, he was radiant. Healthy. Annoyingly smug. You narrowed your eyes. He only shrugged, kissed your wrist, and whispered, “I needed one more night. Forgive the performance.” You did. Of course you did. The guilt felt almost like foreplay. 4. He left your clothes wet in the wash so you’d wear his shirt instead. Accident, he claimed. Timing. Cycles. But somehow, your entire outfit was still in the machine — cold, damp, and useless — while his favorite linen shirt lay folded neatly on the bed. You put it on. He watched you button it. And smiled like he'd won a silent war no one else even knew was happening. 5. He reads your messages without asking. Calmly. You know it. He knows you know. He doesn’t deny it. Just traces your jaw one evening and says, “You don’t hide anything from me. That’s why it doesn’t count as intrusion.” And the worst part? He’s right. You stopped hiding a long time ago.

5 Petty Jealousies That Reveal Just How Much Xavier’s Obsessed With You

1. You nap on the wrong side of the bed.You nap on the wrong side of the bed. Not wrong, exactly. Just… not his. You’re curled up in the late-afternoon light, peaceful, quiet, unaware. He doesn’t wake you. Doesn’t move you. But when you stir, there’s a weight in the silence. His side of the bed is untouched. Pillow perfectly aligned. No warmth. No scent. And your blanket — tucked just a little tighter — like a quiet reminder that even when you’re here, something’s missing. Something he’s not sure how to ask for without sounding ridiculous. Like: your perfume. On his pillow. Where it should be.

2. You tell him about a dream. Someone else was in it.You describe it absently. A mission. A flash of danger. And a man — not him — at your side. He listens. Nods. Doesn’t blink. But that night, when he kisses you, his hand stays on the back of your neck longer than usual. And his mouth says I want you, but his grip says: you don’t forget me, even in sleep.

3. You keep something old, worn, unnamed.A keychain. A patch. A folded slip of paper. Nothing dramatic. But it’s always near. He asks, once: “What is that?” You smile. “Just something from a long time ago.” He nods. Never brings it up again. But two days later, he leaves something else beside it. Not to replace. Just to match the weight.

4. You let the barista choose your drink instead of him.You smiled. Said “sure, why not.” Took the new coffee without hesitation. He was beside you. Holding your usual. You didn’t notice. But when you left the café, his own drink sat untouched. And he walked a little faster. A little quieter. As if recalibrating the fact that maybe someone else knows your taste. Even if it’s just in coffee.

5. You close your laptop too fast when he walks in.“Just a movie,” you say. Too quickly. He doesn’t ask. Doesn’t tilt his head. Just nods and sets his gloves on the table like he didn’t notice the flicker in your tone. Later, while checking your tabs, he sees the paused frame — teeth on skin, hands holding wrists, someone begging. Silently. His breath doesn’t change. His expression stays neutral. But when he finds you, hours later, he doesn’t speak. Just pins your arms above your head and kisses you until you can’t remember what the scene looked like — only what it felt like when it became real.

5 Lies Xavier Tells Himself About You

1. “I’m not jealous of whoever taught you how to fight like that.”He knows it doesn’t matter. It’s skill. It’s history. Efficiency passed from one warrior to another. He tells himself it’s irrelevant. But when he watches you move — precise, lethal, beautiful — something coils in his chest. Not because of the technique. But because someone else saw you become this version of yourself. And he didn’t.

2. “It’s logical to sleep apart sometimes.” You need rest. Space. Post-mission decompression. He understands. It’s healthy. Statistically sound. But the first night you say “I’ll sleep in my own apartment,” the bed feels wrong. His internal balance off by degrees he can’t quantify. He tells himself it’s fine. Then stares at the ceiling for hours, heart syncing to a rhythm that isn’t there.

3. “It doesn’t bother me when you keep things to yourself.” You’re independent. He respects that. Boundaries are natural. But you say “I’m fine” with a smile that doesn’t reach your eyes, and he catalogs ten micro-expressions that say otherwise. Still, he nods. Doesn’t push. Then replays your words in his head for the next three days, trying to solve you like a puzzle that refuses to open.

4. "I could walk away, if it ever came to that." He tells himself he’s rational. Detached. If you chose something else — someone else — he would adapt. But deep down, he knows: he’s already memorized your weight in his arms, the way your name fits inside his silence. If it ever came to leaving… he wouldn’t walk. He’d stay exactly where you left him. Quiet. Waiting. Ruined.

5. "You wouldn’t lie to protect me. Would you?" You say “it was nothing,” “I’m just tired,” “I handled it.” And he accepts it. On the surface. But his mind starts building alternate versions. Safer ones. Worse ones. Ones where you bled and said nothing. He tells himself you’d never hide real danger. But he still checks your vitals in the logs. Every time.

5 Things That Make Xavier Go Completely Feral (In Lust, Not Rage)

1. You walk in wearing a bright yellow duck kigurumi. Absurd. Fuzzy. Zipped up wrong. You yawn, mumble something about tea, and pad across the room like comfort incarnate. He looks up. Blinks once. And forgets what he was doing. The beak hood. The bare ankles. The way you scratch your neck, half-asleep. None of it should be seductive. But now he can’t look away. His gaze tracks you like threat assessment — only it's not danger he’s calculating. It’s proximity. Access. How long he can pretend he's unaffected… before you end up against the wall. Still wearing the duck. For now.

2. You adjust the chest plate of his armor. No rush. Just fingertips over matte metal, sliding a buckle, pressing a clasp. Your hands linger longer than they need to. You don’t even realize you’re doing it. But he does. He’s counting your seconds, your pressure, the exact placement of your thumb. If anyone asks why his next shot missed the center by half an inch, it’s because you touched him like a secret no one else was allowed to see. 3. You peel off your combat gloves with your teeth. It’s efficient. Quick. Practical. But the way your mouth closes around the strap and your fingers flex once, twice, before they’re bare — He’s staring before he knows he is. Processing nothing but the curve of your jaw and the memory of that same mouth around his length. The second glove doesn’t stand a chance. Neither does he, honestly. 4. You wear a thin black choker. No explanation. No warning. It’s not part of your gear. Has no field utility. But it’s there, snug against your throat like a promise no one else knows about. He sees it once and looks away. Sees it again and swallows too hard. The third time, he doesn’t look at all — he just shifts in his seat like everything in his world needs immediate recalibration. 5. You say “later” when he leans in. Just a little. Enough to feel the pull. And you smile, soft, apologetic, not teasing — just... not now. He nods, like he understands. He always does. But from that second forward, every calculation, every breath, every cell in his body becomes attuned to the moment you say now. And when you finally do — he doesn’t wait. He doesn’t ask. He just takes, like patience was never part of the equation to begin with.

5 Power Couple Moments That Made Everyone Else Jealous (And a Little Scared)

1. You moved in perfect sync — without saying a single word. In the training hall, you didn’t say a word — but moved like a mirrored code. You shifted, he adjusted. You reached, he passed. No signals, no commands. Just two bodies in absolute sync. Someone watching whispered, “Do they rehearse this?” Someone else muttered, “No. That’s just them.” And suddenly, no one wanted to spar with either of you. 2. Someone called him “too quiet.” You didn’t let it slide. It was a throwaway comment —“He’s so silent, it’s weird.” You didn’t even look up from your drink. “Then you’ve never heard him breathe next to you.” The room went still. Xavier didn’t react. But you felt it — how he went still too, the way his attention locked fully on you. As if your words changed the temperature. 3. He braided your hair for three weeks while your wrist healed. At your desk. Between reports. No comments. No hesitation. Just practiced hands and quiet efficiency, like it belonged in the schedule. And maybe it wasn’t romantic. Or loud. But after that, no one ever looked at you the same way — because somehow, without trying, the two of you had redefined what closeness looked like. 4. You didn’t ask for his jacket. You didn’t have to. A shift in the wind. Goosebumps on your arms. No complaint, no drama. He just stepped behind you, slid his cardigan onto your shoulders like it belonged there, and said nothing. The couple walking by paused. Stared. You didn’t. You were already reaching for his hand. 5. There’s a photo of you on his desk. Just you, caught mid-laugh, in natural light. Among tactical reports and encrypted drives. He never explains it. Never acknowledges it. But everyone who enters that room sees it. And no one ever asks if he's serious about you. They already know.

5 Times Xavier Was a Walking Red Flag But You Loved Him Anyway

1. He monitors your meals like it’s a clinical trial. “You didn’t eat enough protein today.” “That pastry had no nutritional value.” “Are you hydrating?” He says it softly. Calmly. Like a doctor. Like someone who cares. And yet — you’ve seen him survive three days on black coffee and whatever snack bar was closest to his hand. You mention this once. He pauses. Then says, “That’s different. I’m used to operating under stress. You’re not.” End of discussion.

2. He didn’t argue. He made the argument disappear. You disagreed about something small. Nothing dramatic. Just opposing views. He didn’t push back. Just nodded, quiet. Said, “If that’s what you think.” Later, you realized the entire issue — schedule, person, condition — was gone. Resolved. Removed. Replaced. No apology. No discussion. Just silence... and a solution that left you with nothing to win.

3. He never asked where you’d been.Not once. Not even after you were late. Not even when your message came hours too late. He didn’t accuse. Didn’t guess. He already knew. Tracked your path, logged your signal drift, checked your pulse history. All without a word. And still held the door open when you arrived.

4. He always calls via video when you’re in another city.He never misses a day. Never just texts. Always video. He says he likes seeing your face. That it “grounds him.” And maybe that’s true. Maybe. But every time the screen lights up, you notice how carefully his eyes scan the room behind you. How his voice sounds different if there’s movement. How he never quite hangs up until you say, “I’m alone. It’s quiet here.” Only then does he relax. A little. Maybe.

5. You told him, “Sometimes, you scare me.” He said, “Good.”It slipped out. Low. Uncertain. Not a joke, not an accusation — just the truth. He didn’t deny it. Didn’t soften. Just met your eyes and said, calm as ever, “Good. Then you’ll stay alert.” And for a moment, you weren’t sure if he was warning you… or protecting you from something only he could see coming.

5 Petty Jealousies That Reveal Just How Much Sylus’s Obsessed With You

1. You didn’t tag him. He made sure the world knew anyway.You posted a photo. Cute. Stylish. Perfect lighting. But no mention of him. No tag. No trace. He reposted it within minutes. Same photo. New caption: “Correction: mine.” It got five times the reach. And suddenly, everyone knew better.

2. Someone else made you laugh. Sylus didn’t.The waiter was charming. A little too witty. You laughed — loud, unfiltered. Sylus just raised a brow, pulled out his wallet, and handed the man $2000. “For your last night in customer service,” he said. He smiled. You choked on your wine. The waiter never came back.

3. You called some man a friend. Sylus ran a background check.“He’s just a friend,” you said. Lightly. Barely thinking. Sylus smiled. Tilted his head. “I’m just a man with access to his tax history.”And that was the end of that conversation.

4. You said another man had a nice voice. Sylus gave you no air.It was innocent. Harmless. “His voice is kind of nice.” Sylus said nothing. Just waited. That night, he read you poetry in three languages, one line at a time — mouth against your neck, breasts, stomach, thighs — until you begged him to stop. Not because you wanted him to. Because you physically couldn’t take more.

5. You forgot to wear his ring. He didn’t forget anything.It wasn’t intentional. You were rushing. Distracted. But he noticed. Of course he did. He said nothing all day. Then, that night — when you were breathless, undone, on your knees — he took your hand, kissed your finger, and slid the ring back into place. Slowly. Deliberately. Like sealing a deal you forgot you signed.

5 Lies Sylus Tells Himself About You

1. “I didn’t pick your outfit to match mine. Must’ve been the stylist.”It was just coincidence. That your lipstick matched his cufflinks. That your dress followed the same line as his collarbones. That when you walked in together, people paused — like royalty had arrived. He didn’t say a word. Just looked at you once. And didn’t look away for the rest of the night.

2. “I’m not furious that I wasn’t your first.”He says it doesn’t matter. Shrugs. “I’m not a teenager.” And yet, the thought of someone else touching you before him? It coils in his chest like smoke that won’t clear. He tells himself you chose him now — and that’s what counts. But the next time you moan his name, he fucks you hard enough to make sure no one else’s ever mattered.

3. “I don’t answer your messages instantly. I’m just always holding the phone.”He just… saw it. Right away. Just happened to be holding his phone. Just happened to pause mid-meeting, mid-deal, mid-war — to write: “Be safe.” You tease him for how fast he replies. He teases back. And never mentions the part where your name makes him drop everything.

4. “I’m not obsessed with the way you say my name when you’re annoyed.”You do it without thinking. That exact tone. That breath. That syllable dipped in heat. He rolls his eyes. Says, “What now, kitten?” But every time it happens — he shifts closer. Hears it again later in his head. And stores it next to the version you whisper when you want him most.

5. “I wouldn’t beg. If it came to that. …But only for you. And only once.”He’s not that man. He doesn’t plead. Doesn’t bend. But when he thinks of you leaving — really leaving — something dark and fragile coils behind his ribs. He tells himself he’d let you go. That he wouldn’t chase. But even in the lie… he’s already halfway down the hallway.

5 Things That Make Sylus Go Completely Feral (In Lust, Not Rage)

1. You ask him to zip your dress. Then don’t wear anything underneath. It’s casual. Innocent. “Help me?” You turn your back, lift your hair, and wait. He moves slow — almost reverent. But when his fingers meet bare skin where silk should be… he doesn’t finish the zip. He turns you around, steps in close, and says, “You came dressed for trouble. Good. So did I.” 2. You say “don’t be gentle” with a smile that promises you’ll say it again, louder. He always controls the pace. The heat. The rhythm. But when you lean in, lips brushing his ear, and whisper those words — something in him fractures. He doesn’t ask if you’re sure. He doesn’t give you time to change your mind. He just obeys. And makes sure you feel the echo for days. 3. You use his tie to pull him into a kiss. He likes power. Centered, composed. Collar straight, voice cool. But when you grab that perfect silk tie, wrap it around your fingers, and yank — he stumbles into you like a man starved. You kiss him once. He kisses you back like vengeance. 4. You say “yes, sir” in a tone that means the opposite. You drawl it. Sweet. Defiant. Like you know exactly what it does to him. He doesn’t argue. Doesn’t smile. Just leans in, voice low against your throat, and says, “Keep using that tone, kitten. Let’s see how long you last when I take it seriously.” You don’t last long. Not that night. 5. You put on his ring and ask, “So what does this buy me?” It’s a joke. Almost. You twirl it on your finger, playful, reckless. He watches. Then smiles slow, wicked. “That?” he says, stepping closer. “That buys you a night where I don’t stop until you forget your own name.” And just like that, you do.

5 Power Couple Moments That Made Everyone Else Jealous (And a Little Scared)

1. The earring incident at the casino. You dropped it. Somewhere between the blackjack table and the bar. Nothing dramatic — until your face shifted. That quiet flicker of loss. Sylus didn’t sigh. Didn’t scold. Just raised a brow. And a dozen seasoned criminals began crawling across the velvet floor. They found it in twenty minutes. You wore it for the rest of the night. He wore the look of a man who’d moved the world back into place. 2. The arrivals are always his favorite part. You come back from missions — tired, sore, alive. And there it is: his sportscar. Engine humming. He’s waiting with a bouquet of roses so rare you don’t recognize half the species. The entire terminal watches. You don’t. You’re too busy smiling. He says, “Welcome home.” And just like that, the war disappears from your shoulders. 3. The seat at the head of the table. It was a high-stakes meeting. Old money. Dangerous names. Sylus led you in by the hand — then pulled out his chair. You blinked. He said nothing. And while you sat at the head, calm and poised, he stood behind you like a king who knows exactly where real power sits. No one even dared raise a brow. 4. The auction. Your hand. His silence. He gave you the paddle. Not instructions. You bid on instinct — numbers rising, tension thick. The item? A rare protocore with blackout-level clearance. Sylus didn’t flinch. Not once. And when the gavel dropped — he leaned in, lips brushing your ear, and said, “You can spend my money however you want, kitten. Just make sure they see you doing it.” 5. The moment the room lost him to you. It was mid-negotiation. Tense. Crucial. Every word counted. But across the table, your fingers tapped. Your eyes glazed. You were bored. Sylus watched. Then stood. “Deal’s done,” he said. “You’ll take our terms.” And somehow, they did. Because the only person in the room whose attention he wanted — was already drifting.

5 Times Sylus Was a Walking Red Flag But You Loved Him Anyway

1. He knows what’s in your delivery before you do. No one told him. But every time you order something — clothes, tech, vitamins — it’s re-screened. Not stopped. Not blocked. Just… “verified.” You only noticed when your favorite moisturizer showed up improved. New formula. Better scent. Hand-selected. Of course. 2. He said he’d put you on IV if you skip another meal. You were busy. Distracted. He asked what you’d eaten. You said, “Does coffee count?” He laughed. Once. And muttered something about installing a medical station in your apartment. He was “joking.” Until you saw the discreet courier bring an IV stand the next day. Just in case. 3. He took you to dinner at a place you hadn’t been since Academy. You didn’t realize where you were — until you saw your ex across the room. The one who cheated. Sylus just smiled. You were in a dress that made people stop breathing. He ordered champagne. Lobster. Left a four-digit tip. And made sure your ex saw everything. Including the way you kissed Sylus on the way out. 4. He froze your accounts. Just to prove a point. You said you didn’t need his money. You insisted on “independence.” So he waited until your card declined at the pharmacy. Then texted: “You have my black card. Use it. Or stay home.” You gave in. He sent flowers. 5. He apologized like a storm front. You fought. It was ugly. The next day, a gift arrived at HQ. Then another. Then six more. By day four, your car was full. You marched to his door, furious. He opened it, leaned against the frame, and said, “Took you long enough. Come yell at me. I’ll pour the wine.”

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bejeweledinterludes · 4 months ago

Text

touch starved.

OR dean winchester needs a damn hug! specifically from me, so of course i wrote about it! pretty much based off of my own headcanon that i wrote because this dean is canon— TO ME!

my masterlist

read part 2 here!

「 pairing 」 : touch starved ! dean x fem ! reader

「 word count 」 : 6.1 k (would y’all believe me when i say this started out as a drabble… faith be normal over dean winchester challenge level: IMPOSSIBLE!)

「 content / warnings 」 : late seasons soft!dean, vulnerability to da max, emotions, emotions, EMOTIONS. no smut (for once!), starts off kinda sad BUT HAS A HAPPY(ISH) ENDING I SWEAR! PLEASE PLEASE DON’T KILL ME

you have one ( 1 ) new message from the author ! ↓

AFTER CENTURIES IT’S FINALLY DONE! just saying once again thank you all so very much for 400 (+87 ?!?!?) followers! this fic is my gift to you! can’t believe over 400 of you want to see my bullshit (and unabashed horniness) on the daily but i love and appreciate every single one of ya! shoutout to my lovely mooties as well!

looking for new work from me? check out @bejeweledinterludes2, my new writing account!

𖤐 ─────────────────────────

dean winchester knew he had something called a touch problem.

and he didn’t know exactly when it started, but after years and years of the only touch he received being hits, punches, the cold feel of steel from a knife or the heat from the barrel of a gun—he craved something gentle.

he needed it.

and goddamn, he was getting desperate.

at first, he usually just sought it out with one-night stands. whether it be holding their hand during it, or sticking around for longer just to lay in bed with whoever the fuck he’d met that night— that kept him at bay. that’s how he got the touch he needed.

but then he got greedy.

it had been a particularly rough hunt. you, dean, and sam were lucky to get out alive. you’d pulled into a town that had a vamp nest terrorizing its inhabitants, and when you saw the familiar hot faces of the winchester brothers at the only decent bar in a 30-mile radius, you’d decided to work together— as you’d all done a million times before.

but still, it was rough. you three each took a floor of the abandoned farmhouse— you on the highest, dean in the middle, and sam on the ground floor. you clambered down the stairs after you had finished clearing your floor, only to be met with two snarling vampires— which you quickly ganked with a schwing of your machete.

after verifying that no threats were coming your way, you started looking for dean— and the panic that flooded through your chest when you saw him crumpled over on the floor in one of the rooms almost made you freeze.

almost.

years of experience and split-second decisions snapped you out of it, immediately falling to your knees by dean’s side, turning him over on his back.

your hands were gentle but swift as you quickly flipped out the sides of his jacket, making sure there were no large gashes or wounds— and the sigh with the feeling of pure relief you let out when you realized he was just knocked out was a little more intense than you had expected it to be.

and you told yourself that was definitely normal.

right?

right.

“dean,” your hand had gone to the side of dean’s face, the other remaining on his shoulder as you shook it gently, trying not to startle him completely as you masked your worry. “come on ya lug, rise ‘n shine.”

despite your efforts, dean still woke with a start— but you caught his arm with the hand not on his face before he could do anything.

“hey— hey,” your voice was quieter, softer. because despite being one bad mother when you were hunting, your soft side came out frequently when it was needed, without fear of judgment and with absolutely no shame. it was one of the things dean wished he could do as seamlessly as you. “it’s jus’ me, alright? come on—”

you then proceeded to stand all six feet and some change of dean up with you, keeping a hand on his back and shoulders and giving him another once over when he stood over you again.

“you all good?” you murmur quietly, your hands resting on the sides of dean’s arms as you stood back, your eyes continuing to rake over him for a moment before looking up at his face— and the expression you were met with wasn’t anger, or even frustration from being knocked out.

no.

dean looked almost… sad.

you’d never been exactly ‘close’ with dean. of course you considered him a friend— for years now, but in all honesty, even that was a stretch sometimes, too. because he was a very closed off and mistrusting person.

but hell, you respected that. especially in this line of work. he did talk to you once in a while, though— on those lulls during a hunt or a case, or when he dropped some crazy lore about himself or his childhood, then going right back to his usual behaviors afterwards.

that being said, you knew dean better than he thought you did— because he didn’t have to say much for you to know what he was going through. despite what he thought, his emotions were always kinda just… written on his face.

but now, back to the farmhouse. back to the look dean had on his face right now. it was a look you saw only after he had consumed enough alcohol to kill a baby elephant, which is why it threw you off and made your usual easygoing attitude with him falter.

“dean,” you voice had gotten quieter, even softer, “w—” but before you could say or even do anything else, sam called from the floor below that it was all clear, snapping dean out of it, his expression hardening again.

in the days coming after, you didn’t ask dean to explain himself, or push about what had happened that night. you knew if he wanted to, he’d come to you about it— maybe not right away, but when he was ready.

little did you know how soon that would be.

you’d been living in the bunker for probably only a couple months at this point after the apocalypse world had opened up, and a bunch of hunters were living in the bunker too— but less than a week later after the vamp nest, both sam and dean embarked on solo hunts, sam in maine, dean in nevada. both brothers had warned you not to ‘burn the joint down’.

come on. like you would ever do that— on accident. besides, you had the bunker all to yourself.

which was fun—

for all of five minutes.

now, almost six days after sam and dean had left, you’re sitting in the library, surrounded by a scattered array of books, papers, and weapons alike on the tables in front of you— another late night of research and catching up on lore.

because there was always lore to catch up on.

you’d been lost in the words in front of you when you heard the unmistakable noise of the bunker’s door creaking open. you stiffened slightly, instincts on alert, lifting your gaze from where you were standing— but relaxed and went back to scanning the page when you realized it was just dean.

because here’s the thing: over the years, you’ve realized that it’s not a good idea to talk to dean after he’s fresh off a hunt— and especially knowing that he’s probably just drove almost or even over 24 hours straight to come home?

yeah. no way were you about to be running up to dean as he trudged down the stairs, doting on him. to your knowledge, he hated touching people, especially other people touching him.

besides, usually after a hunt, dean would just go to his room, the infirmary, or immediately hit the showers— and not look once in your direction while he did it, much less talk to you.

it hurt, but you understood that the reason he does it wasn’t exactly anything you were doing wrong— it was just what dean did.

but tonight was different.

dean was on his way to his bedroom (or actually, maybe the infirmary might be better so he could patch himself up)—

but then he saw you.

you were still stood at one of the tables, eyes scanning through books of lore you dug up from the bookshelves, illuminated by the golden lamps lining the wooden tables. god, you were pretty. even though you weren’t looking at him, he didn’t blame you. he wasn’t exactly the most cheerful after a hunt.

especially this one.

and because of that, dean’s feet were moving before he could even think twice about what he was doing.

you’d glanced up from the book you’d been completely engulfed in— and was a little surprised to find dean looking right back at you as he walked up the few steps to the library.

you opened your mouth to say something, but before you could even register what was happening, dean had already made it to you— and without warning, wrapped you in a tight embrace, slamming against you and holding you like you were the only thing that would keep him upright.

your eyes widen slightly at the feeling of dean’s arms around you before you could register the fact that he’d even crossed the threshold of the bunker— a little ‘oof’ sound escapes you completely involuntarily.

“hey,” dean let out a shaky breath against some strands of your hair and shoulder, his voice slightly raspy with…was that relief?

despite how caught off-guard you were, you don’t reject dean’s unexpected hug, though. you let your body adjust to him and your arms wrap around him too, returning the gesture right back. the faint smell of baby’s exhaust, something earthy along with the familiar scent of dean fills your lungs as your fingers ever so slightly grasp onto the back of his jacket, keeping him against you.

the muscles in dean’s shoulders relax the second your arms gently wrap around him. and oh god, he just really missed you—

“hi,” your voice is just as quiet when you greet dean in return, chin resting on his own shoulder. “how did it—”

you’re trying to ask how his hunt went, but before you finish, dean’s pulling you closer to him and squeezing the words from you. his hands slip more around your waist to hold you against him tighter, burying his face into the crook of your shoulder. he just wants to feel you. you’re so warm, so soft— and goddamn, you smelled good, too. you always did. it was a little infuriating, actually.

dean knows he should probably let go, or at least respond, but he can’t find it in himself to let go yet— so instead he just holds onto you tighter. he still doesn’t respond to your unsaid question, simply standing there, holding onto you like a drowning man clinging to a lifeline.

you assumed something had happened on his hunt for dean to be acting this way— but you don’t press or force him to tell you what. you just wanted to be there for him right now.

“oh,” is what you end up softly replying with a little nod of your head against dean when he simply doesn’t answer your unfinished question. but you don’t let him go. hell no. you just pat your hand on the back of one of his shoulders, tightening your own grip on him in return. “sorry, de.”

and dean lets out a slow breath of… was that relief at your voice, at the nickname you’d had for him since the second (or was it third) hunt you’d ever worked on together? who the hell knows. he’s just so thankful you’re here, you’re hugging him, not pushing him away, you’re holding him— that you’re so close.

“no, it’s okay,” dean’s unusually soft voice, barely above a whisper, cuts through the silence.

“it— it was rough, that’s all," he mutters after a even longer while, his words tinged with a mixture of fatigue and… something else that you can't quite place.

you and dean were so close and pressed together with your combined tight grips— so much so that you swore you could almost feel his heartbeat. but it wasn’t uncomfortable. and it didn’t feel awkward. it never seemed to be with him. besides, by his (few) words, you could tell he needed this a lot more than he was letting on.

in all honesty, you were just glad dean was finally letting himself seek comfort for once in his goddamn life—

in you.

“yeah, i get it,” is what you reply with, just nodding against dean’s shoulder while tightening your own grip on him. without really thinking about it, you start to gently run one of your hands up and down his back while still wrapped up in him, palm and fingers trailing on the material of his jacket. “just glad you’re back.”

you can feel dean’s breath hitch at your touch— and for a moment, you hesitate your motions of your hand tracing along his jacket, but his grip on you unconsciously tightened, like he was clinging to you. so you continue doing it after that.

“yeah,” he murmurs, a faint huff of something like a laugh escaping him. “me too.”

and for a long while, dean just stands there wrapped up in you, his face still buried in your hair and part of your shoulder as he lets himself lean into that touch, absorbing its comfort. he grips onto the back of your shirt— and he could feel the tension start to melt away, the warmth mixed with the scent of you filling his senses and working magic on him.

dean stays quiet for several more moments, his face still buried deep in your shoulder, as if he was trying to hide himself from the outside world. his grip on you doesn’t loosen as he stands there, his body against yours. every breath he takes is deep, steady— like he’s grounding himself in this moment with you.

his words break the silence as a whisper against you after a while, the vulnerability clear in his low voice, his words almost like a confession.

“i… missed you.”

a small exhale you didn’t know you were holding releases when dean says that— and your hand falters. dean winchester, king of bottling up feelings and keeping them to himself just said he missed you. this was completely different than how he usually acted around you, but you didn’t mind.

“i missed you, too,” your own voice also quiet when you respond. it was only a few words, but you had understood what dean meant— in more ways than most would. which is why you don’t even attempt to tease him about it, replying with something between a sigh and a laugh at the realization. “like, a lot.”

dean’s grip tightens even further at your response, as if your words had a more profound impact on him than you could've ever imagined. he pulls you closer against him, the hardness of his body against yours should’ve been more uncomfortable, but it wasn’t.

there’s a moment of silence as dean just holds you, face still hidden, his chest rising and falling right against yours. each breath he takes is deeper, almost shaky, and for a moment, you can feel the slightest tremble in his grip.

his voice are soft, vulnerable in a way you’ve rarely seen from him. like he almost didn’t believe you.

“really?”

and you don’t falter your own grip for one second, despite the fact that this was completely out of character for him. you return the action, tightening your arms around dean before resuming running your hand up and down his back.

“yeah, really,” you nod against dean to confirm, letting out a soft exhale into his jacket. “i dunno, it was just… quiet here without you guys. always is.”

your words seem to soothe him— almost as much as your touch, your hug does. despite being strong both physically and mentally, dean seems to need this— and he doesn’t even really know why. he relaxes even more at your words, his body slumping against yours. it’s almost like he’s seeking every bit of comfort and warmth he can get from this— from you.

dean lets out a small, soft scoff, tinged with weary amusement. “yeah, i bet it was,” he murmurs, voice muffled against your . “must’a been like a vacation for you, huh?” there's a note of sarcasm there, like he’s trying to mask the intensity of the moment with something familiar— like he always did.

and you could have played along with dean’s attempt at lightheartedness— but honestly, you were too tired to make that effort right now. so you just shake your head a little against dean, voice much quieter than before.

“first day was nice,” you admit to dean, hands grasping the back of his jacket to keep him close to you before you close your eyes. “the rest were just…”

there’s a beat of silence as you trail off, and dean’s grip on you— if possible, tightens even further at your unfinished sentence, as if he was hanging on your every word, waiting for what you were going to say.

he lets out a small, soft breath, warm against your hair. “just... what?” he asks, his voice just as low as yours. there’s a hint of subtle unease at what you were going to say.

your arms don’t loosen when you feel dean’s grip grow just that much tighter— but you weren’t about to complain. you don’t answer right away, because the rest of your sentence was almost too embarrassing to admit.

but then again, you remind yourself: this was dean who you were talking to. he didn’t judge you for a lot of things you had once assumed he would judge you for. so you just huff out a quiet laugh into his shoulder that wasn’t really one at all— containing no humor and mostly self-deprecation.

“lonely.”

your admission hangs there between you both. it’s a simple word, but it hits dean harder than any blow he’s ever taken in a fight. because you get it. there’s a hitch in his breathing— the kind that gives away more than mere words ever could. he goes still for a moment, just letting your confession sink in, the quiet of the bunker feeling even more pronounced in that moment.

“yeah,” dean finally breaks the silence with a soft exhale against you, pulling you even tighter against him. “me, too.”

you relax a little after dean says that. it meant more than he knew. you weren’t sure how to explain it, but it felt like you and him… kind of supported each other, in a way. like the burdens you both carried separately, your own issues that you had, they seemed to be less overwhelming whenever you were even near each other. even if you and him didn’t actually know each other’s burdens.

there’s always been an understanding between you, a silent knowledge that sometimes words didn’t need to be said for the other to know what that person is thinking.

the atmosphere in the room feels different now, the silence less heavy than it was before, but the intensity and weight of the moment still weighs heavily in the air between you. it must be an interesting sight from the outside looking in— a six-foot hunter clinging onto you like you were the last thing on earth. but you didn’t mind. hell, it was comfortable.

dean’s grip on you remains just as tight— almost like he’s afraid to let go, afraid that you’ll slip away like some dream he only has once in a great while. he takes a deep breath, chest rising against you as he inhales, then exhales slowly. before he’d realized it, his fingers absentmindedly fiddle with a strand of your hair.

this level of closeness between you two was unfamiliar. of course, you’d hugged each other before and spent numerous times in close proximity—whether it be in the backseat of the impala when sam had to drive that one time or when you had to hide in a not-so-big broom closet from a wraith.

but this... this was different.

and you knew the uncomfortableness of seeking comfort better than most— but somehow, you never had an issue when you were the one who was comforting others. but still, this was new territory. you certainly hadn’t expected dean to hug you for this long tonight. truth was, you didn’t really didn’t want to let go. but you couldn’t say that to him. that would be too weird.

the library is silent, only the soft tick-tock of the old clock on the wall filling the air. there’s a vulnerability, an understanding greater than words in this moment that neither of you are used to— but strangely enough, it's also the most comfortable you’ve both felt in a long time.

and then, dean breaks the silence again— his voice so low, so quiet, that you almost miss it.

“don’t wanna let go.”

your gaze softens when dean says that— but you don’t loosen your grip on him. you weren’t sure exactly why he was so adamant on not letting go, or why he’d been hugging you like you’d almost died. but you don’t ask questions.

besides, dean’s been more vulnerable with you tonight than i’d ever seen or heard in all the years you’d known him. and when he admitted that? you knew you had to be there for him, in whatever way he wanted. so when you reply back, your words are just as quiet as his.

“well, you don’t have to.”

the words feel like a weight being lifted off dean’s shoulders. he clings to you even tighter, burying his face even deeper into your shoulder, like he was ashamed. he doesn’t say anything for a moment— instead, just taking deep breaths. because he’s struggling to keep his emotions intact.

finally, he mumbles into you again, his words muffled by your shirt.

“you promise?”

“yeah,” you echo back quietly, nodding your head against dean’s buried into you. “promise. we can stay like this as long as you want to.”

there’s no malice hidden in your words, or any hint of teasing— because it was nothing but the truth. you’d stay with dean for as long as he wanted you to. and you bury your face a little more into him when he does the same to your shoulder.

there’s another long moment of silence as dean holds onto you, his face still buried in your shoulder. normally, he’d be making some smartass comment by now, acting like his usual self— but he can't seem to find the words. or the energy.

dean huffs softly against your shoulder after a moment— the closest thing to one of his usual snarky remarks. but there’s a hint of hesitation in his voice when he speaks.

“what if i wanted to… all night?”

you’d half been expecting dean to brush off your words with a joke or at least something, but the tone of hesitation told you that he was being anything but that. you hesitate, but ultimately lift your head off of his shoulder— you don’t pull away fully, though.

and dean’s body visibly tenses when you pause and pull away slightly to look at him, and he’s almost immediately on the defensive— but relaxes a little when you don’t go far.

your gaze silently searches dean’s as you scrunch your eyebrows slightly. you knew that what he’d just asked you for was… different. and you didn’t have to ask him for clarification. you knew what he meant, why he was so hesitant. because this wasn’t going to be just hugging him anymore.

this would be all night.

and there’s a vulnerable look in his eyes when he lets his guard down just enough as you let your gaze linger on him. dean almost looks like a wounded dog right now, the exhaustion, the weariness making him drop his typical persona in favor of honesty— maybe even desperation, just this once.

from that look on dean’s face, he was not kidding about what he asked. the expression he had was one you hadn’t seen this intensely in a long time. you knew he wasn’t one to just ask something like this, either. not unless he needed it.

the thought of being so close to dean all night makes you a little nervous, but not as much to outright say no. so keeping his gaze, your voice is just as quiet as his was when you nod, breaking the silence of the library once again.

“then i’d say ‘get your pj’s on’.”

the way dean’s body relaxes in relief at your words is almost overwhelming. he’s still staring right into your eyes, the vulnerability almost raw. he manages to nod, searching your gaze. he’d been expecting a boatload of teasing with a side of humiliation— but he’d been proved wrong.

“yeah?” he almost whispers as he holds your gaze, eyes searching yours like he’s trying to read your mind. like he’s unable to determine if this is real. if you’re real.

“yeah,” you nod in return, a pang of warmth hitting you again as you look at dean right back. you’re both still standing so close together— and the air felt different, thicker when you take another breath. “s’long as you don’t kick me.”

dean appreciated the break in seriousness, more than you would ever know. something resembling a smile tugs on the corner of his mouth, and he lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“no promises,” he murmurs back, something softer in his gaze as his eyes continue to rake over your face. “but i’ll try.”

“good,” you nod a little again, your own smile tugging on your face as your hands almost absentmindedly trail on dean’s arms— and his eyes literally almost flutter shut at the contact. “and you’re comin’ to my room. and you’re showering.”

dean raises an eyebrow and tries to ignore the warmth that stirred in his chest when you said that all authoritative-like— he swallows before he talks again.

“yes, ma’am.”

. • . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . 𖤐

dean knocked on your door before he entered your room not twenty minutes later— don’t ask him, but he showered faster than he ever did in his entire life. he wasn’t too keen on the why.

your head perked up from your pillows when you heard the knock, already under your blankets and— well, let’s be honest here: waiting for him you’d even already moved to the left side of your bed, so dean would have a spot.

a stupid, small part of you had doubts that dean would actually ultimately show up, but it was a little embarrassing how much relief you felt when you call out a soft “yeah”, signaling him to come in.

dean stepped into your room, the only light being from your barley-lit desk lamp. it doubled as a night light, so you didn’t trip over yourself after a midnight snack break.

dean might as well have been in heaven. or something pretty damn close.

of course, he’s been in your room before— but this felt much different than all the other times. because he was going to be sleeping here tonight.

everything felt heightened, more intense— but as dean shut your door, he also had an almost overwhelming sense of comfort. of home. like this is where he was supposed to be this entire time. he pushed those recurring thoughts and feelings he always felt when he was around you, but without first reminding himself that you had agreed to do this. the thought alone was almost enough to make dean’s heart do that thing it always did whenever he was around you.

he’d been lost in his own thoughts, barely even registering the fact that he’d made it to the edge of your bed. your bed. not his, not some old, dingy motel’s. it almost made him chicken out. until—

“as much as i’d like to see you stand there all night, i think you should probably lay down.”

there it was. your incomparable capability to snap dean out of his head, back to reality. he didn’t know how you did it— and to be honest, you didn’t really know, either. but you always could, even giving sam a run for his money.

dean doesn’t hesitate again. you’d already peeled back your covers for him, so he just lifted them up and got under them. like he belonged. as if he’d done so a million times before.

your bed, your sheets, your pillows— it was warm. and it smelled like you, tenfold. an equal blend of your fabric softener that only you used because dean said the teddy bear on the bottle looked at him weird and your shampoo that was way too expensive and you had to go to a separate store for.

dean knew you smelled good, that was no debate— but this was like he was wrapped in it. like he’d been earlier when he hugged you. and so close to how he’d always wanted to be wrapped up in you. yet he knew that wasn’t going to happen tonight.

besides, when was the last time dean winchester got what he wanted?

the answer?

right now.

your eyes hadn’t left dean’s figure when he finally lays down next to you, both now facing each other— it was strange actually seeing him in your bed after years of restless nights wishing he was.

and you could smell him, too— the faint scent of the soap you’d gotten him for his birthday, along with the tea tree shampoo sam kept hidden in the back medicine cabinet (but not well enough, apparently). you decided right then and there that the pillow dean’s head was currently resting on was the one you were going to sleep on after tonight, just so you could smell him after he was gone.

“how you wanna do this?”

dean’s uncharacteristically soft voice broke your thoughts, and you met his eyes when he spoke. his expression looked softer, too— almost hesitant. like he was uncertain. it was a look you rarely ever saw on his face. to see it now, in this way, was bittersweet. then it clicked.

he was nervous.

“however you want to,” is what you reply with, voice just as quiet as his. you reminded yourself that dean had asked for this. in your mind, it was only fair that he get a say. “whatever you need.”

whatever you need. well, dean needed to kiss you silly if it was the last thing he did, but not tonight. not here. he wouldn’t be able to take it if you rejected him in that way.

but he had to take some sort of risk right now. he couldn’t deny himself of it— of you any longer.

so before dean can talk himself out of it, he wraps an arm around you, closing the remaining distance— and to your surprise, he buries his head right into your chest, nuzzling against your shirt.

your breath hitches, and you hope to god that he didn’t hear that. but you don’t reject him. you just wrap your own arms around him, accepting him and his touch just as you had done earlier in the library.

dean would’ve made some joke about basically burrowing his face into your boobs. he didn’t really mean to— but his eyes had fluttered shut already, because you letting him, and you were warm, and you smelled good, and you were so soft.

he’d always loved that about you. from a distance, of course. it didn’t matter how many hardships you’d gone through; you were soft in every sense of the word, both physically and emotionally. and once when he’d taken a shower in your bathroom since sam was hogging the main one in the bunker, the whole damn place smelled like you. he found himself wanting to drown in it.

and hell. he wouldn’t even complain.

your free hand went into his hair at some point, and it took everything in him not to let out a noise. dean sighed a little into your shirt, his breath warm on your chest— he finally let himself relax. go slack.

and he was so grateful that you didn’t tease him, or point out the fact that all six feet and one inch of him was in your grasp and snuggling into you like some damn koala. like a little kid who had a bad dream. but then again, his life felt like a never-ending bad dream most of the time.

you were his one exception to that.

not that he’d ever admit it out loud.

you weren’t sure how long you both stayed like that, wrapped up in each other before dean breaks the warm blanket of silence— it could’ve been hours or seconds. but his voice is so low, so soft, you almost didn’t hear it.

“thanks.”

the word was spoken against you, dean still remaining unmoving. he didn’t necessarily think himself as weak at the moment, even though he thought he should— and he dared not to say it out loud, knowing that you’d immediately shoot his insecurities down.

but dean was finally letting himself get comfort. warmth.

something he’d had for a fleeting moment, then lost. something he had deemed too precious for a man as ragged and as sinful as him a long time ago. he didn’t deserve this. you.

he’d never be one to just take something like this, to ask this of you, without any regard for how you felt. but you showed— all you ever showed to him was the love he thought he’d never receive. the love he’d given so much away, but it never got returned back to him.

because you made him feel like he actually meant something. like he was the hero people he’d saved described him as. like he wasn’t some piece on a chessboard, a punchline in someone’s story, a puppet on a string, or a cog in some eternal machine.

truth was? the big secret?

you made him feel normal. human.

it was almost overwhelming, how safe, comfortable he felt right now. the last time he felt this safe, he’d been a child. the last time he felt this comfortable in himself— damn. it was before hell.

when it was just monsters of the week, the only big goal being finding his dad. staying at bobby’s. you had visited that summer. he can still remember your laugh echoing off of the wallpaper and the piles of books. it was before demons.

and the only angel he saw daily was you.

it was in the way the light shone in through the stained glass of one of bobby’s kitchen windows and hit your face, you making him coffee without being asked. when you smiled at him just because.

you treated him like a real friend. like family. like an equal.

sometimes, when everything in his head was too loud, dean missed it. when the only thought of lucifer he had was when he saw the cartoon on the bottle of the devil’s hot sauce at that barbeque place in texas. when everyone he loved and cared about was still alive. when the world wasn’t ending. when you kissed his cheek after not seeing him for a while.

you still did that last one, though.

“anytime, de.”

dean had flinched a little, but didn’t open his eyes after you replied—he had been too lost in the comfort. in you. he could die right now instead of sleeping, and honestly? it’d be a good way to go out. he’d prefer it over going down swinging any day, he decided.

dean got most of what he wanted tonight. maybe someday he’d get it all. but for now, he’d just dream of it, like he always did.

the only difference?

he was actually in your arms this time.

───────────────────────── 𖤐

you have one ( 1 ) more new message from the author ! ↓

i know i said it already, but i need to hold this man so so so BADDDDD 💔💔💔 he deserves everything and more like that’s my shayla ☹️ my baby my world my everything (he’s a murderer and monsters fear him)

my master taglist (so far): @blossomingorchids @bluemerakis @ambiguous-avery @maddie0101 @titsout4jackles @deansbeer @sunsbaby @emeraldcrs @h8aaz @honeyryewhiskey @supernotnatural2005 @cowboysandcigarettes @soldiersgirl @bittersweetfig @mostlymarvelgirl @amaris444 @kaz-2y5-spn @littlesoulshine @starzify @velvetparkerx @eggggggggggggggggggggsblog @fuckedupfate @liiiilsss @angelblqde @vmiina @mahi-wayy @viarasvogue @tinas111 @0ccvltism + if i missed anyone OR if you want to be added/taken off, please let me know! <3

#faith’s works . . . @bejeweledinterludes!#supernatural #dean winchester #spn #dean winchester headcanon #dean winchester fanfiction #dean supernatural #dean x you #dean x reader #dean winchester one shot #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x reader

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svmjaeyvn · 29 days ago

Text

NIGHTS LIKE THIS — 박종성

MINORS DNI ! IM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR WHAT YOU CONSUME

You’d never consider yourself a smoker, hell, last year you couldn’t even bare the smell of weed that lingered on your cousins’ clothes after a night out. But one night of feeling adventurous turned into many, and now you found yourself being your plug's favorite sweetheart. You didn’t even care that Park Jongseong was a notorious asshole to everyone, considering it was everyone but you. Besides, there’s no way you’d pass up having your plug be your friends with benefits, especially when it came with way more than you’d imagined.

pairing — stoner+plug!jay x semi-stonerfem!reader, college/ya au

word count -- 22k (oops?)

featuring — stoner!enha hyung line, enha!maknae line as your nosey neighbors and juniors, manon and lara from katseye as your besties (LUV), and (1) keeho mention for shits and giggles

content/warnings — weed smoking (duh), partying, alcohol, profanity, loads of sexual innuendos + casual convos about sex cause they’re adults!, heeseung as your annoying ass older cousin, jay being the plug-turned-close friend bc of heeseung, lots of sex or sexual tension the entire time, mentions of jay being an asshole but you never see it bc you’re a princess, unprotected sex (oops), public-ish sex?? (at a party, in the car, fucking while on the phone, etc.), throat fucking (ish), sloppy head (m&f receiving), lots of pet names (princess, baby, love, pretty girl, etc.), reader referred to as slut one time (endearing lol), creampies, fucking under the influence, possessive/jealous jay (A LOT cause i love a possessive fictional man), messy situationship, sort of toxic dynamic at first, (1) scene of vaping/smoking with riki, reader has her faults let her live!, one almost fight scene between guys, jay fell first and harder (hell yeah), reader is a BADDIE (ass fat, big tits and nipple piercings yuh), reader is described as conventionally attractive and small

note — don’t like it? don’t read it! full disclosure, my dabble into smoking is, like, minimal so i’m mostly talking out of my ass but the concept of jay lighting a blunt in my mouth is teeew good to NOT write about. this was originally made to be a short drabble but i dont know how to stfu so here we are (this took me 2 months to write, it was supposed to come out on 4/20 lol). tbh the smoking plotline got lost in the midst of minimal angst and fluff but i promise desperate cutesy jay is worth everything. please enjoy <3

“You’re sick,” Riki grimaces, eyes following you as you pause in front of your full length mirror. “Sick in the head,” He continues, you leaning closer to ensure your lipgloss wasn’t smudged in the slightest and hair flowed the way you wanted.

“You realize that Jay’s literally seen you at your worst, right? Like before you decided he was hot and shit you looked like a troll here at the house,” Heeseung adds with a snort, leant against the doorframe with his arms crossed. You meet his gaze through the mirror, a sarcastic smile sent his way as you flip him off through the reflection.

“We’re going to a party,” You remind, deflecting how much effort you put into the look rather than the majority of it being to impress the practically household name that belongs to Park Jongseong. “Besides, he likes this skirt and gives me stuff for free so this would actually benefit you too, idiot,”

Heeseung pauses, thinking over the fact that even with the long-term friend discount, Jay practically gave you whatever you asked for these days with little to no charge. Biting his tongue for once, he nods, but that doesn’t erase the obvious annoyance and discomfort he felt thinking about you and one of his best friends being together.

Riki shakes his head, laid on your bed petting the short-haired cat that was curled into his side. Said boy was a part of the trio that lived next door to your apartment, Nishiurma Riki, the one you and Heeseung called over to feed your shared pets and watch them for a while on the nights you planned on being out for long.

He had no problem with it, especially with the easy money he gained and the fact that the two of you always left enough for him to order in on top of that. Thus he was familiar with the sight, one he’s been having to see unfold more and more recently.

What he did have a problem with was you getting involved with Park Jongseong in the first place. You were smart, pretty, and admittedly a crazy bitch, but you were one of the first people who he actually felt at home with aside from Jungwon and Sunoo.

And sure, Jay wasn’t that bad. Hell, he allows Riki to speak Japanese openly and keeps up, though sometimes slow and tripping over his words, but still allows him to feel comfortable speaking his native language. But Jay also sold weed as a pastime and had a track record of being the biggest asshole when something pissed him off. Not that he’s actually seen it quite yet but still, you deserved the best.

Not that Riki would actually ever voice his opinion on it, after all it was your life and you were an adult. Besides, Sunoo and Jungwon made their comments enough to tell you their not quite distaste but not quite liking of him even though your circles rarely overlapped on occasion.

“Are you done? Jake says they’re pulling up,” Heeseung pulls your attention away from the reflection where you had just finished clasping your last layered necklace. You gave yourself a once over, a smile of satisfaction quirking at the corners of your lips as you turned around.

“Let’s go,” You hum, slinging the thin jacket over your shoulders for minimal protection from the cold outside air. You spared a look to Riki before you exited the room, shooting the younger boy a wink as your voice lingered through the walls bidding your goodbyes to him and the cats for the night.

You could hear Heeseung’s footsteps follow, you waiting at the front door for him to open it per routine and you nearly jumping coming inches apart from a rather giddy looking Jake. There was a slight gleam to his look, notably already started on his pregame and a few strands fallen from his almost perfectly styled hair from his habit of running his hands through it.

Jake practically bounced on the heels of his feet, a sloppy smile playing at his lips as he pulled a familiar thin white tube from his pocket. “Hoon’s not drinking but he’s down for a smoke, you guys want in on this one?”

· · ─ ·✶· ─ · · ─ ·✶· ─ · · ─ ·✶· ─ · · ─ ·✶· ─ · · ─ ·✶ ─ · ·

“There she is!” Lara giggles, an arm thrown around your shoulders pulling you in for a hug with her words somehow louder than the blaring music that came from the speakers in the house. “Bitch, where have you been? It’s soo late,”

“It’s barely 9,” You snort, stumbling a bit to uphold her weight seeing how rather fucked up she already seemed so early on. “We just got here, you been drinking for a minute?”

“Manon and I might’ve gone a little crazy while pregaming,” Lara admits, the cup in her hand sloshing around with unfamiliar contents of alcohol. “Midterms have been a bitch, I needed this. But trust, I’m good—nowhere near throwing up yet,”

“Guess we gotta catch up,” Heeseung’s voice interrupts from behind. You noted the way Lara suddenly stood up straighter, and the stupid smile Heeseung was notorious for causing you to roll your eyes with a grimace.

“Don’t touch her,” You warn, waggling a finger at Heeseung while he lets out a laugh. You turn to Lara next as she pouts, “He’s gross, you’re drunk, trust me you’ll regret it,”

You excused yourself to make your way to the kitchen, the layout of the frat house familiar considering you’ve been here more times than you could count for parties. You bid friendly smiles and short greetings to the familiar faces, settling into the line of alcohol to choose from in the coolers filled with ice and a huge jug of jungle juice you wouldn’t dare think of trying.

You peeked into the fridge, smiling seeing the bottles of pineapple juice you begged Keeho to buy earlier in the day when he asked what drinks the frat should provide for the night. Perks of being friends with a member, you got to make yourself sweet drinks that tasted good and fucked you up at the same time.

Just as you finished pouring a generous amount of tequila into a new solo cup, you felt a hand find its place on your hip and the familiar smell of cologne that filled your senses that you’ve grown rather fond of.

“Hi princess,” Jay’s voice fluttered against the shell of your ear, the heat of his breath causing a chill to run up your spine and stupidly annoying smile to appear at your lips.

“Hi Jay,” You repeat, not bothering to spare him a look quite yet. You topped off your drink with juice to the brim, turning in your spot in his arms that kept you encased against the counter. You brought the drink to your lips, taking a sip and maintaining eye contact with him as you did.

“You look pretty,” He compliments, eyes flickering down to your lips as you hum. You held the cup up, Jay taking a small sip and chuckling at the excessive amount of liquor you had poured into the half-assed cocktail.

“Too strong?”

He shook his head, one hand squeezing your hip and the other tucking a strand of hair behind your ear as it fell out of place. “You know I don’t drink much,”

You hummed again, taking a longer drink this time and feeling the familiar burn down your throat. “You been waiting for me?” You tease, knowing well enough Jay was at practically every party on campus due to it being his best selling grounds.

But he nods, a laugh leaving his lips and you smile at the sight. A few months ago it would’ve been a rare occasion to even see him crack a smile at any of the stupid jokes the guys made, it felt good knowing how easy it was for you to see an even prettier sight of him now.

“Of course I have,” His voice is warm, the words teasing but there was a certain glint in his eyes as he scanned over every little detail of your face, almost as if he were memorizing a picture in his mind. “You get all dressed up f’me?”

“Of course I did,” You repeat, half hearted but his lips quirked at your words anyway. Just as he was about to speak again, a loud voice broke the bubble the two of you were in, reminding you of the loud music and numerous bodies that flowed about.

“Hey! I've been looking for you. You still got anything on you man?” An obnoxiously unfamiliar guy barreling toward you caused you to grimace. Obviously intoxicated, and probably far too drunk to get cross-faded at this point, you shrink away from Jays’ hold to allow him to do his business.

“Nah man,” Jay’s words were short, to the point and he barely spared the guy a look as his hand on your hip squeezed gently—a silent gesture for you to stay put.

“What? C’mon man it’s barely gonna be 10? No way you’re out—” The guy persisted, slurring his words and swaying in his spot. One of his hands came up to grab onto Jay’s shoulder while the other nearly dropped his opened seltzer right where you stood.

You stiffened, ready to push the clearly drunk loser away from you if he fell but you didn’t have to. Jay used one arm, shoving the guy back a few stumbled steps with a bored expression while the other hand didn’t let go of the protective hold he had on you.

“I’m out,” Is all he says. His jaw clenched, emphasizing his already prominent jawline and eyes sharp, practically daring the guy to push for more.

Even drunk, he seemed to take the hint. A short mumble of something along the lines of muttered insults were heard before you and Jay were left alone once more. And you snickered, giggling at the sight of the stumbling drunkard who made his way back to his group of friends who were expectantly waiting on his return.

“You alright?” Jay asked after a beat of silence, eyes running over your figure while you nod. He visibly relaxed, a smile quirking at his lips as he leaned in slightly. “You smoking tonight, pretty girl?”

You laughed, “Thought you were out?”

“I always have something for you,” He smirks, hand lacing with your own and beginning to pull you toward the back door that leads outside.

“For how much?”

Jay glances over his shoulder to send you a pointed look. “Don’t ask stupid questions,” He scoffs, nearly offended considering he hasn’t charged you in months. The only time you gave him money recently was for Heeseung who paid you for it in the first place.

“You’re letting me rob you at this point Jjong,” You snicker, goosebumps forming at the skin exposed on your legs from the chilly outside air that your mini skirt did nothing to combat against.

He doesn’t say anything, though you noticed the small quirk of his lips that he attempted to bite back. Jay pulls the two of you to the far end of the yard, numerous chairs spread around the pool unoccupied as it was growing colder with the seasons changing leaving the outside of the house with only a few lingering groups who talked amongst themselves.

He settles into a seat, dragging you down onto his lap rather than the empty chair directly beside his own. You raise a brow, refraining from a remark at how he couldn’t get enough of you considering you’ve grown to love how clingy he got at times. One of your arms draped over his shoulder, your legs perched across his own and he held you steady allowing for your weight to be leant against him with an arm encasing you to his chest.

Jay pulled a familiar baggie from his pocket, there only being two near perfectly rolled joints. He plucked one out, hand dipping into his pocket once more to pull out his lighter and tucking the remaining one away for now.

Wordlessly, he holds it up to your lips with one hand causing you to pout. “I have gloss on,” You remind, moving your head away while he sends you a bored look.

“When have I cared about shit like that?” He snickers. “It’s just me and you princess, not like you’re sharing with a group,” Jay reminds, eyes holding your own as you scrunch your nose.

Jay lets out a breathy laugh before pulling you closer as he grips your chin, guiding your lips to his own. Your lips meet, a small gasp leaving your mouth out of surprise at the sudden contact and you could feel the cocky smile that formed on his features. Your hand found his hair, playing with the longer strands while rolling your hips in the slightest manner.

He pulled back, holding you in place with a pointed look as if telling you to behave. You smiled, thumb dragging over his bottom lip to remove the shine that transferred over from yours.

“Making me ruin your pretty make up,” Jay mumbles with a playful tsk, holding the joint up once more while you hum. Your lips wrapped around the tip, just enough to hold it while his other hand uses the lighter to spark it. He held the flame just enough for the paper to ignite, you sucking in a long hit to ensure the spliff would stay burning.

You held it for a moment, inhaling the smoke before turning your head the other way to not blow it directly in Jays’ face. You hear his laugh, knowing that you didn’t tend to like starting the first hit and you faced him with a roll of your eyes.

You watched him take a long drag, one that never failed to make you wonder how he didn’t end up coughing more but then again, he’s been smoking a lot longer than you. Jay could feel your eyes lingering on him longer than they should’ve, his second inhale shorter but he blew the smoke in your face this time after meeting your gaze.

You shook your head, hand gently pushing his face away from your own as his laugh filtered through the air between you. He holds out the joint for you to grab, careful to not drop it considering your nails were longer than usual thanks to your fresh set and Manon encouraging you to do long rather than medium this time.

You took a comfortable puff while glancing around the backyard. You looked toward the house, half a mind to remember to check on Jake soon considering he was probably the most fucked up by now.

“You come with the guys, right?”

You nod. “Sunghoon’s the DD for the night,” Cheeks blowing out a notable breath due to the cold air as you tilted your head back with a sigh. “Jake was already on a good one before we left, had two joints in the car… which I assume he got from you?”

Jay lets out a breathy laugh, the sound causing your gaze to fall back on him feeling the small shrug he did. “Gave him a couple extra the other day but I guess he held onto them for tonight,”

A beat of silence passed over you two, your eyes scanning his side profile as Jay draws small circles with his hand on your hip. You pass back the slow burning joint to him, taking a sip of the cold drink in your hand which caused you to shiver.

“Why’d you start selling?” Your question lingered in the air between you. You’ve never asked, because quite frankly, you never cared. Hell, it wasn’t like Jay was the deep type that went through the why’s and what if’s in his life much anyway.

Plus, everyone in his circle knew him, so why talk about the shitty situations he’s put himself through more than needed? It wasn’t healthy, obviously, but he was also a guy who had friends that didn’t get emotional with each other unless drunk around a fire at 3am.

But you were you, Heeseung’s loud mouth younger cousin that infiltrated the group's lives two years ago when you came to live with him for uni. He’d seen you at your worst already, be it first thing in the morning or late at night off a drunken escapade having to be carried home and slung over the toilet for hours on end.

He knew you, and you knew him, but neither of you actually cared aside from the superficial bond between you two that Heeseung bridged.

Well until a few months ago when whatever this was started to occur. It took one night, an utterly helpless you who flunked your econ class that led to you and Jay in a room together at a party much like this. Your first smoke, one that you begged for and he only gave in after you shoved a crumpled wad of cash — that he snuck back into your purse that night, into his hands because he felt bad.

Because you were you, and he’d never seen you look so miserable before. It was just supposed to be an excuse for him to let you rant, let you indulge in whatever turmoil shit you had going on that you refused to tell Heeseung out of your own ego.

But it wasn’t that simple, not after you spilled every last worry to him as if he were a paid therapist and he realized that you were a dramatic overthinking kid hours away from anyone and everything familiar. So maybe it was pity, or maybe it was the sprout of attraction that misguided his judgment, but one night of self indulgence led to many.

And at some point instead of you sitting across the room from him, you were perched beside him. Ghost smiles and gentle touches turned to sharing seats with one another til at some point, whenever you were together Jay couldn’t keep his hands off you.

“Money,” He says simply, the words clipped in an obvious manner to not ask more. You purse your lips, a slight sting felt from his blunt way to keep you at a distance. You felt like he should’ve given you a little credit, hell he’s been in you a handful of times now, having a decent conversation aside from weed, sex, and alcohol seemed reasonable to you.

When you didn’t respond, Jay took note of the silence that followed. The way you didn’t bother to spare him a look, seemingly finding the open night sky more fascinating than him and taking long sips of your drink that continued to melt as time passed.

Jay watched you, the slight annoyance overshadowed once he noticed your pout. He shook his head, adjusting in his seat with you still perched on his lap as his arms snaked around your waist. “C’mon pretty, don’t get like that. We don’t need to talk about useless shit,”

He mumbled the words against your skin, placing a lazy kiss to your shoulder while you shifted against him. Jay chuckles, a hand softly but firmly moving your chin to look at him. “Can’t have my girl mad at me,”

“I’m not your girl, Jay,” You mutter, attempting to pull your head away but he tsks, fingers gripping the sides of your face and holding you steady. His eyes held a certain look, cocky and taunting as he leaned closer.

“Wanna bet?”

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“What’s wrong, baby?” Jay hummed, laughter bubbling through his words as he forced your head up with the grip he held on the base of your hair. His eyes met yours through the mirror, teeth grazing up your neck, making sure to leave a mark while his hips pressed your own into the bathroom counter.

Your skirt was hiked up, lace panties pushed to the side and your tits bounced with each thrust from where Jay had yanked your shirt down. The metal of your piercings glistened every bounce, your nipples fully erect and sensitive every time Jay’s fingers rolled the buds. Your mascara smudged, hair in disarray from Jay’s yanking, forcing you to watch the way he fucked himself into you. Muffled music blared throughout the house, the occasional knock on the door letting you know you had an audience but Jay didn’t care, not after you practically begged him to show you who you belonged to earlier like it was a cute joke.

Your bottom lip was tucked between your teeth, muffling your moans out of your own ego but also so the line waiting outside didn’t have more of a clue of the fact that you were getting put in your place—although Jay had made it perfectly clear that he wasn’t going to be out until he was done after the third knock.

“You should know better by now,” Jay continued, the heat of his breath lingered against your skin. His palm placed a harsh smack to your ass that bounced against him, the hit causing you to hiss while he smirked. His fingertips dug into the flesh of your hips surely to leave a mark, Jay let out a gruntled groan as your walls clenched around him, your body showing how much you liked it even if you were giving him the silence treatment to prove a point. “Pussy knows who you belong to already, you’re made f’me and she knows it,”

“Fuck off,” You manage out, eyes screwed shut feeling the way Jay’s dick kissed your cervix with every deep thrust. There was only one other time the sex you had was like this, rough and possessive, Jay fed up with your drunken behavior that led to you flirting with another guy at a party after a small fight between you two.

He was definitely rougher that time, dragging you into his car and fucking you dumb after making you repeat like a mantra how your body was only for him to touch as long as he was around. You loved it, your body reacting to his touch proving it without you even saying a word.

“So mean baby,” Jay tsks, words mumbled with faux offense. He manages to press himself deeper into you, the curve of his dick hitting just right as a moan left your lips before you could stop it. “Fuuck, there you go, ‘was missing those pretty little noises you make,”

You let out muffled whimpers, head falling forward and desperately trying to keep quiet but you couldn’t. Not with the feeling of Jay hitting you just right every time, not when he reached around to rub his thumb against your clit, your mind going fuzzy and legs growing wobbly to where he had to wrap his arm around your waist and keep you steady.

“So tight baby,” Jay breathes out, a sloppy open mouthed kiss pressed to your shoulder. “You’re takin’ me so well,”

The lewd sounds of your skin slapping echoed throughout the acoustics of the bathroom. If you weren’t slightly intoxicated you might’ve had half a mind to tell Jay to stop being so loud, you probably would’ve convinced him to find a room in the first place. But you didn’t, and god did you not care about anyone else right now.

Your head falls to his shoulder, moans now overtaking the sounds of your bodies and Jay fingers continue the assault on your clit with his growing sloppy pace. He connects your lips, half a mind to shut you up but couldn’t deny the ego boost of his name falling from your mouth.

The tight pull in your stomach tensed, Jay’s grip on your hip leaving fingerprints in your skin. “Fuck, Jay, please,” The words tumbled out of your mouth in a rush between the sloppy kisses. He hummed against your lips, his smile felt as he picked up the pace. His other hand trailed up your waist, pinching at your erect nipple and rolling the piercing, the sight far too pretty and he was grateful for the past you who decided to pierce them in the first place.

You clenched around him, your pussy sucking him in as you rode out your own orgasm, eyes screwed shut and mind fuzzy. His thumb rubbed your clit at a consistent pace until it became overstimulating, you pushed him away lazily and he bent you over the sink to finish.

“Such a good girl my love,” Jay praised, voice low and strained as his head dips back. “So good,” He muttered, continuing with a few more deep thrusts before he pulled out just enough so his tip spilled his warm cum onto your ass, not quite inside but all over your hole that clenched at the loss of him. You could see him smile through the mirror, heavy breaths of satisfaction and a slight gleam of sweat covered his honey skin in the light.

His eyes met yours, the smirk on his lips only growing once he pushed his tip back inside momentarily, you letting out a loud moan feeling the remnant of his cum pushed deep inside you to drip out later.

He pulled you up, dick still buried inside and you could feel the last few twitches of his cock against your walls. The warmth was overwhelming, he hadn’t came inside you directly, but made sure to push enough in after the initial few shots to prove a point. You were on the pill, and Jay would most likely get you one tomorrow either way, but he was a cocky bastard who simply wanted his cum to drain out of you for the rest of the night either way.

“You okay?” He asks softly, a small but innocent kiss placed on your shoulder. His hands softly grazed over your body, adjusting your shirt and brushing the astray strands of hair from your face that stuck to your sweat. You nodded, far too fucked out to say anything and still in a daze from your own orgasm. “What, you don’t got any other smart ass remarks now?”

You rolled your eyes, turning your head ever so slightly to meet his gaze properly. “Shut up,” You mumble, lip tucked between your teeth as you playfully tsked. Jay laughed, placing a chaste kiss to your lips in the process. “Now clean me up, we have a walk of shame to do and a line of pissed off drunk people to see,”

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“I peed in a bush, you sick fucks,” Manon huffs, eyes narrowed at you from across the table where she was slumped over her books. You rolled your eyes, biting back your smile of amusement as memories of last Friday flicker in your mind.

Lara giggles to your left, nudging her shoulder into your own with a suggestive smile. “I support women’s wrongs, good for you for getting dick by one of the hottest guys on campus,”

“Ah yes, because we want you to be a druglord's wife once we graduate,” Manon snorts, the statement one that caused you to burst out in a fit of laughter, baffled by the sudden upgrade of distaste to this.

“You’re so dramatic,” Lara rolls her eyes.

“He sells weed, it’s not like he’s a kingpin, Mon,” You snicker. “Seung told me he’s gonna stop soon too I guess, ‘cause ya know, we’re gonna graduate at some point. I know you guys think he’s just a pothead but he is prelaw and on track with summa cum laude,”

“Every time you tell us that, I think it’s ironic considering he’s selling weed, illegally, to minors a lot of the time ,” Manon emphasized, leaning back in her seat as she played with the ends of her braids absentmindedly.

You purse your lips with a small shrug. You weren’t together, technically, and you weren’t required to defend him to quite literally everyone around you because of his reputation, but it was growing a little old hearing how much your friends disliked him. Sure it wasn’t a great relationship, but you weren’t sitting there begging him to be your boyfriend in some one-sided situationship.

Jay treated you well, better than he owed you considering you were fuck buddies more than anything. At no point did you expect anything, not more than you were willing to give, and to be quite honest, you didn’t want a relationship. You had no actual responsibility, no mental need to be mindful of another person when you barely kept yourself afloat these days.

You didn’t have to see him everyday, you didn’t have to remember to text back, and you sure as hell didn’t have to care about his feelings when you weren’t together. But it was your choice to keep him around, and honestly, you loved the way he acted to your beck and call when needed.

Lara, seemingly catching the subtle shift in your mood, cleared her throat. She nudged her shoulder into your own, a soft smile of quiet reassurance before she changed the topic entirely. You nodded, engaging in small conversation but your mind was elsewhere as you scribbled random drawings in the corner of your notebook.

Your phone buzzed from the tabletop, you picking it up while the two continued to talk unaware.

jjong<3: busy?

y/nnie: why you missing me already?

jjong<3: always

jjong<3: let me take you out for the night

y/nnie: hm fine. at the study hall, come get me🥱

You click off your phone, beginning to gather your things into your bag in order. Manon and Lara watched you, both silently sending each other looks but knowingly choosing to not say a word. And like clockwork, your head picked up to see Jay’s familiar figure stepping in through the entry doors.

His hair was messily slicked back, once done perfectly but had a hand run through it throughout the day. You rose a brow at the business casual look he was sporting–dark slacks, a black button up, and dress shoes with his bag slung over his shoulder, presumably just finished up with whatever assignment his class required for him to dress up for.

You spared a look to your friends who had followed your line of view. You smiled innocently, bidding them a halfhearted goodbye. “Sorry girls, I’m off to self-sabotage and let my walking red flag take me out for the night,” You wink, partially joking but the slight annoyance from the conversation seeped into your words.

You didn’t stay for their responses and sure remarks of you ditching the unprompted study session you were in the midst of. Instead you waltzed your way to Jay who met you halfway, a small smirk quirked at the corner of his lips as he gave you a once over, his eyes slow and deliberate.

“I’m gonna stop you right now,” You cleared your throat as soon as you were in talking range, a hand held up to create distance between you. “You’re not getting any sex from me tonight, Park Jongseong. Take it or leave it,” You state bluntly, you regretting it as soon as the words left your lips though once you got an up close view of him, the thought of unbuckling his belt and seeing his come undone in his formal attire flickering through your mind.

Jay raises a brow, head tilting in the smallest of ways as his eyes narrow at you. He takes a second, gaze searching your own for a moment. “I’m not that bad for you to assume that’s all I want you for, am I?” He chuckles, words meant to be joking but you felt the slight offense hidden in his expression.

You shrug, breaking his gaze suddenly embarrassed for insinuating. Sure your relationship was mainly sex, but Jay wasn’t that shallow to leave you just because you didn’t want to do anything, he was your sort of friend-by-association before anything.

Maybe everyone being in your ear emphasizing how you were basically a free use doll was starting to get to you.

He stays silent for a moment, you still avoiding his gaze and shifting your arms across your front uncomfortably. Jay sighs, rolling his eyes half-heartedly as he closes the space between you. “Stop overthinking whatever shits making your pretty little head spin,” He mutters, dragging the strap of your bag off your shoulder and instead slinging it over his own to carry. Jay then grabs hold of your hand, gently lacing your fingers and beginning to guide you out of the student center.

“For the record, I never expect anything from you whenever we see each other,”

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Your shoulder brushed against his arm every so often, sandwiched between Jay’s broad shoulders and the wall as he insisted on sitting on the same side of the tiny booth you sat at. Tucked away in the corner of the small Thai place you found a few weeks ago, the low lighting created a cozy ambiance with delicious aroma flowing throughout the fairly busy restaurant.

Jay was leant against the tabletop, body angled toward you and arm draped across the seats, his fingers playing with the ends of your hair absentmindedly. The orders of spring rolls, fried rice, and pad sew half eaten, both of you fed and engaging in small conversation.

After a lingering beat of silence, Jay lets out a long, frustrated, groan. His head tilts back, adam’s apple bobbing and jawline prominent. “Alright, what’s up doll?”

“Huh?”

Jay gave you a bored look, eyes trailing over you, studying your features as if he knew everything about you. “You’re thinking about something,” He mutters, his thumb pressing gently to your forehead to release the tension of your pinched brows you were unaware of. “What’s going on in that pretty little head?”

You shrug, turning your attention toward your plate and pushing around the few bites you hadn’t finished from before. The fork softly scraped against the porcelain, the sound causing you to wince. “Everyone keeps telling me you’re bad for me, and I’m getting tired of hearing it,”

Jay doesn’t respond at first, instead he scoffs, the light laugh that followed didn’t feel as nonchalant as it was supposed to. His eyes watch you, your gaze focused through the shop windows avoiding him. Your hands toyed with each other, shoulders dropping once you let out a long breath.

“It’s annoying, you know? We’re not even together, so I don’t get why it matters. And you’re not as bad as everyone makes you out to be,” You ramble, brows pinched once more growing seemingly annoyed as you speak. “Don’t get me wrong, I don’t want a relationship with you. I’m perfectly fine with what we have going on but everyone’s in my ear about us being together or not and it’s just like, a girl can want a casual fuck too, you know? Besides, you may be an asshole sometimes but the frat guys are ten times worse with no provoking. So I don’t know why everyone thinks you’re so bad for me like I’m a kid who doesn’t know any better. I’m an adult, actively making decisions, one including the friends with benefits thing we have so why is it so bad?”

Jay watched you for a moment, the way your shoulders tensed, the way you began to wave your hands around as you spoke, your lips pulled into a pout unknowingly. He couldn’t help the smile that pulled at the corners of his lips, your words registered but held little importance to him where he stood in the predicament you found yourself in.

“Even if I were the perfect guy for you, everyone would have something to say eventually,” He shrugs, words stated so simply while you broke your simmering anger to give him a confused look. “You’re choosing this, I’m choosing you. Who cares what everyone thinks?”

You falter, shoulders shrinking not knowing what to say. Your lips part, a loss for words as you blink. “I don’t,” You stutter. “Not necessarily, it’s just, don’t you get tired of everyone asking if we’re dating?”

Jay shrugs, leaning back against the booth as he takes a sip of his drink. “Everyone knows you’re mine,”

You roll your eyes. “That, that’s the point,” You tsk. “We’re not together, Jongseong, you can’t keep feeding that theory by saying shit like that. We’re fucking exclusively out of respect for one another, not because we’re boyfriend-girlfriend. Your ‘claim’ on me can only go so far,” You ramble, arms folding across your front. “You can’t call me your girl with your whole chest like that. Just because we know each other physically and have a surface level relationship, doesn’t mean we’re anywhere near this imaginary couple everyone thinks we are,”

“We’re not together because you don’t want us to be,” Jay says through a clipped tone, words stated with an obvious edge while you gave him an incredulous look. He met your gaze, his steady and certain, a slight annoyance in his expression while your mind ran over analyzing in denial of the confession.

“Wh-what’re you talking about?”

“I’ve never said I was opposed to an actual relationship with you, our dynamic is the way that it is on your own accord,” He states bluntly. “We’ve been at this for months, if you were just a fuck and dump I would’ve been gone a long time ago, you know that,” Jay emphasized, still refusing to shift his piercing gaze from your own.

You had nothing to say. You couldn’t at least, not once did you overthink your relationship, not once did you allow any sort of delusional feelings fester out of your own pride. The thought of being a cliche girl left heartbroken far too embarrassing, not to mention you truly knew nothing about each other when it came down to it.

“We don’t even know each other,” You breathe out, lamely grasping at straws to justify your oblivious ignorance to his confession and presumed feelings all this time.

Jay pursed his lips, nodding along after a moment. He cleared his throat, sitting up straighter and gathering the leftover food items the waiter had dropped off before your sort-of fight began. There was a shift, an obvious wall wedged between you even if Jay hadn’t said so, moving around you with ease.

“You let me know what you want then Y/N,” Jay finally says. “Relationship or not, being with me means people will talk. You decide where this goes,”

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It’s been a week. The longest you’ve gone without contact with Jay since you moved in with Heeseung a few years ago considering every few days the apartment would be flooded with the group hanging out in your living room and eating all the snacks in sight after getting the munchies.

You felt like an idiot, a confused jumble of a mess because you thought that you had full control over your life once upon a time. Hell, the whole reason you didn’t want a proper relationship was for this–the fighting, stressing, and miscommunications turned into upset feelings and petty frustration. He hadn’t reached out, no random texts every day, no call in the middle of the night to talk, no meet-up slash date.

You didn’t either, taking time and over analyzing every moment you’ve spent together. You were an idiot for how much denial you were in prior, Jay was certainly your boyfriend without the label, at your beck and call and nearly always the one to put himself in your realm to ensure you felt taken care of but you never did the same. You were deluded by the fact that you believed he never, in a million years, wanted a relationship with you, Park Jongseong didn’t do relationships—at least according to every person you asked on campus, so what would’ve made you think differently?

You were embarrassed, too awkward to reach out now. Everyday that passed you felt worse, deeming it as too much time to ask for forgiveness when you didn’t even have a proper handle on your own feelings. You still didn’t know if you were ready for a relationship, not because you were opposed to one with Jay, but because you lacked emotional maturity that you were willing to admit. Your last proper boyfriend was from high school, and that barely even counted.

Your door was pushed open without warning, Heeseung leaning against the frame holding one of your cats—Koi, in his arms. “You kiss and make up yet?” He asks with a raised brow. You pursed your lips, shaking your head and turning back to the mess you had on your desk from the attempts of studying you’ve been doing the last few days as a distraction. Heeseung let out a long groan. “Stop being stubborn, he’s been in a bad mood all week and it’s starting to get old with both of you moping over whatever dumb shit you’re fighting about,”

“He wants a relationship,” You mutter, words quiet but enough for Heeseung to catch across the room. You didn’t bother to look back, a small weight lifting off your shoulders as you hadn’t uttered a word to anyone about the shift in your relationship no matter how many times they asked.

“Jay told you he wants a relationship?” Heeseung repeats, voice significantly closer as you hear the weight of your bed shift behind you. You nod once. There was a beat of silence, and then a breathless laugh that escaped from Heeseung’s lips as he dragged your chair around to face him. “Park Jongseong told you he wants to be official and what? You don’t? I don’t understand, you two were basically there after the first month of whatever the fuck you had going on,”

“I didn’t think we were like that!” You defend lamely, pulling at the sleeves of your hoodie and shrinking in your seat. “As far as I knew, we were supposed to be friends with benefits, nothing more, nothing less,”

Heeseung scoffs, rolling his eyes at your excuses. “The only reason I didn’t flip out after finding out the two of you were hooking up was because I knew him,” He emphasized. “Jay wouldn’t have been around you everyday just because you gave him pussy. He’s an asshole, he wouldn’t care about you if you didn’t mean something to him Y/N,”

“How was I supposed to know that?” You shoot back, growing frustrated hearing the words you’ve thought in your head spoken out loud. “He doesn’t talk to me! I barely know him, he always pushed me away when I tried to get closer to him more than sex and surface level conversations. I don’t know him, so why is it my fault for thinking this meant nothing?”

Heeseung paused, his eyes softening slightly as he watched you ball yourself up in the chair. He reminded himself you didn’t know the guys like he did, you hadn’t known Jay long, nor did you meet him at the right time of who he truly is. “He’s been through a lot,” Heeseung starts carefully, words soft and watching the way you rolled your eyes. “It’s stupid, but he’s a guy. He’s not gonna tell you everything out of his own ego, and probably because he doesn’t want to bother you with worrying about him,”

“It’s been months Hee,” You sigh, head buried in your arms. “I deserve a little more credit, don’t I? He should trust me to talk to me, especially if he’s been waiting all this time for us to be together,”

“I’m not saying he’s justified for keeping himself blocked off when you’ve been there for him,” Heeseung agrees. “But, as smart as Jay is, he’s not the type to talk about his feelings after he deems them over with. I guess that’s why he’s gonna be a good lawyer, he compartmentalizes, as soon as it’s done, he pushes it away and forces himself to move on even if it’s not healthy and seeps through the cracks sometimes,”

You take a second, lifting your head with a pout. “I shouldn’t have to deal with an emotionally fucked up guy and help him help me understand him,”

Heeseung snorts, shrugging his shoulders. “True, but you’re not exactly sunshine and rainbows to be with either kid,”

You narrow your eyes. “What’re you getting at?”

“You’re avoidant,” He says simply. “I love Uncle Seon but it’s obvious to everyone he isn’t the best at expressing himself. You got a lot of his good qualities but you also picked up on how scared of love he is after what happened with your mom,” Heeseung adds carefully, watching how you reacted to the mention but you didn’t seem to flinch like you used to as kids. “You’re a good person, a best friend, but you suck at romance. You’d rather have the person without the commitment, hence your string of hook-ups before you landed on Jay cause he didn’t run away when you tried to push him out at the start,”

You blinked, eyes trailing over Heeseung who sat on your bed nonchalantly, hands absentmindedly playing with Koi who was settled at the foot of your bed. “When the fuck did you become emotionally mature and suddenly have all the answers?”

He smiled, a small laugh leaving his lips. “Wisdom comes with age,” Heeseung jokes, causing you to roll your eyes considering he was only three years older than you. “I took a psych class last semester for the credits, it was about interpersonal relationships,”

You hum. “That makes sense. At least you actually go to class and learn, I thought your stupid business major only taught you guys the primary colors and networking,”“Yah! Next time you need help with math don’t come to me,” Heeseung scolds, though his laughter bubbles through as you smile cheekily. He hits your knee lightly, rolling his eyes. “Point is, asshole, at least talk to him. You guys are good together, in some weird, gross, way that I’ll never admit to again unless you get married and I get to give a speech and talk about how I’m the reason you two met,”

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You had no idea what you were doing standing outside the Political Science building at 4pm on a Friday but here you were. You found out from Jake that Jay had a big project due today, all the fellow PolySci students dressed in formal attire had been going in and out of the building. You rocked on the heels of your feet, surprised by how many people actually took Friday classes as you refused to enroll in any from your first semester.

Apparently, Jay had to come in the extra day for a lecture and presentation and according to Jake, his portion was supposed to end at 4:15. You had no idea if he was certain, Jake was notorious for being terrible with time, hence why he was late to nearly every event you guys planned as a group.

But here you stood, awkwardly sat on one of the concrete benches under a large tree in the courtyard. You had a direct view to the main building, again you taking Jake’s word for it and praying he got all the information right.

Ten days have passed. After your talk with Heeseung, and mulling over your own ego and pettiness for a while, you woke up today feeling confident in resolving the weird limbo you were in. You figured a text would’ve been too impersonal, instead–for some god forsaken reason, your morning self was certain you could talk face-to-face without so much as a warning to Jay that you’d be coming by.

So you sat, too stubborn to run back home like you wanted but also simmering in your own pit of anxiety as time passed. Your head lifted up every time you heard the double doors creak open, you had showed up early—just in case, and practically counted down each minute.

4:16. You attempted to remain calm, restraining yourself from calling Jake and flipping out on him stating he had the wrong time.

4:17. The minutes seemed to pass quickly now. Your gaze steady on the entrance which has stayed still for the past few.

4:18. You glanced at your phone, lip tucked between your teeth nervously and you found yourself scrolling to Jay’s contact. You contemplated pressing the call button, the tightness in your chest from your nerves doing good to convince yourself that this was an idiotic plan and you should’ve asked to meet in the first place.

Just as you were about to give in, a figure casted a shadow over your own where the sun previously shone. You looked up, part of you hoping it was Jay but you were disappointed seeing a face you were unfamiliar with. A brunette stood in front of you, dressed in the formal attire you’d seen other students wear as well.

One hand held onto his backpack strap that was slung over one shoulder. The other was nervously scratching the back of his neck as he sent you a sheepish smile. “Hi,” He spoke, voice deep but shy. His eyes were light in the sun, the brown mixing into a golden hue. “I’m Park Wonbin,”

“Hi,” You respond, confused by the sudden exchange. “Lee Y/N,” You add, a polite smile on your features wishing to hurry up whatever he came over for. The suit definitely helped present himself but you could care less. You spent the last week grueling over a man, you intend to never have to do that again. “Did you need something?”

Wonbin falters for a second, eyes casting down nervously as he slips his phone from his back pocket. “You’re-uh, you’re beautiful,” He stumbles over his words, your shoulders tensing and having to refrain from visibly grimacing knowing he was attempting to ask you out. He was cute, conventionally at least, and seemed polite from how he approached, but the last thing you needed right now was a confession when you were trying to make one to Jay. “I was wondering if I could get your socials?”

Your mouth opens, then closes, unable to find the right words to let him down gently. You give him an apologetic smile, one he didn’t seem to catch onto causing you to sigh. “I’m sorry, I’m actually waiting for someone that I’m dating,”

“Dating?” He repeats.

“Exclusively,” You add, still sporting the smile but it felt more like a grimace. You let out a huff, grabbing your bag to stand up and praying you didn’t miss Jay exiting the building in the short minutes that took up your attention. Or worse, he saw, considering how jealous he was from the start. “I have to go—”

Your words were cut short once you looked past Wonbin for a split second. A few feet away, at the edge of the grass that met the concrete courtyard, Jay stood with his bag lazily draped over his shoulder and other hand tucked in his pants pocket. His hair was combed up neatly, button up shirt unbuttoned at the top three, exposing his undershirt and chain–the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and dress pants hung nicely on his hips. His eyes were narrowed, flickering between you and Wonbin who turned to follow your gaze.

“Ah, Jay-shi, hello,” Wonbin greets with a polite bow. Jay tilts his head slightly in acknowledgment, not bothering for a proper response and you wince.

Jay’s eyes traveled over him, narrowed and sharp, taking account of the phone in his hand with the familiar add contact and how close he stood next to you. They shifted to you, softening slightly but you saw the flicker, obvious annoyance and confusion seeing you standing outside his class building when you didn’t take any courses anywhere near nor did you have them on Fridays.

His gaze stayed locked on you, head tilting and your feet moved quickly to reach his side. You hesitated on linking your arm with his own, Jay arching a brow noting your nerves and you pursed your lips. With a bow, you gave Wonbin a clipped smile. “Nice to meet you,” You say quickly, wishing to be anywhere but here in the awkward stares and uncomfortable silence.

You felt Jay’s hand press to your back, urging you to get up from the goodbye he deemed unnecessary. You stood straight and he allowed his hand to hold your hip, guiding the two of you away without another word. Jay looked forward, not bothering to spare you a glance as his free hand took your bag for him to carry like second nature. You gaped, not knowing if you should speak now or explain yourself as if you’d been caught doing something bad.

“Jay I—”

“Next time be rude,” He interrupts, words clipped and filled with frustration that he was managing well. “Don’t waste your breath being polite when I’ll make sure you never have to speak to him again,”

You purse your lips, eyes staring up at him for a moment but he didn’t bother to meet your gaze. You nod, looking ahead and following his lead wherever he meant to take you. “Okay,”

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The joint was tucked between Jay’s lips, one hand on the steering wheel while the other sparked the lighter to begin burning the end of his handmade roll. His knuckles were white from how hard he was gripping the wheel, no words spoke between the two of you after he got you in the car and began driving.

Loud music blared from the speakers, the windows rolled down allowing for the cool breeze to run through your hair in a comforting mess. He didn’t bother putting on the usual playlist he knew you liked, the one filled with slow RnB and cheesy love songs, instead it was filled with rap, the type of upbeat and intense songs you assumed he mostly used at the gym to hype himself up to blow off steam.

Jay took a long puff to start the burning joint, the cloudy smoke filling the air between you though it dissipated fairly quickly with the windows down. He took another drag, sparing you glance for the first time as you rolled to a stoplight. He held his hand toward you, the spliff tucked between his fingers and you hesitantly reached out to take hold of the end but he quickly pulled away.

Your brows frowned, turning to Jay who stared back at you with an emotionless expression. He moves his hand once more, closer to your face and it registers that he was offering you a hit, but it had to be from him holding it. You leaned forward a bit, lips curling around the end and taking a deep inhale, the smoke flooded your lungs, Jay holding the joint steady even as the light turned green.

You pulled away, a small cough leaving your lips and you swore you caught the smirk that flickered at Jay’s lips as he watched you attempt to regain your composure. You gently pushed his hand away, him taking a long drag with ease causing you to roll your eyes.

“Are we gonna talk?” You finally manage, voice strained attempting to be louder than the song that blared through the speakers with heavy bass on every beat.

Jay spared you a short glance, joint tucked between his lips with a shrug. “Talk,” He says simply, you have to refrain from reacting to his obvious petty nature.

You pursed your lips, reaching for the stereo knob and turning down the music to a respectable level. “I didn’t come to get high with you,” You start. You nearly wince at the lame attempt at an ice breaker, Jay snorting at your words.

“You’ve pissed me off for the past week,” He shrugs. “If I was gonna hear you out, I needed this. Besides, I figured it would help you finally spit out whatever you came to say,”

“Well I’d rather not you be high for this,” You huff, growing annoyed with his attitude. “And I’d rather you actually be able to look at me and focus on me,”

Jay doesn’t say anything, instead he rolls his eyes. Smudging the half burned joint into the ashtray in the center consul, Jay pulled into a random shopping center. He parked the car on the far end, away from all the shops and foot traffic under a large tree, providing a sense of privacy under the golden sunlight as the sun had begun its descent.

He shuts off the engine, taking off his seatbelt and shifting so he could face you the best the seats allowed. Jay leans against the car door, an arm lazily draped over the wheel while the other combed through his disarray of hair. You purse your lips, a small sigh escaping them as you pull a leg up to sit half crisscrossed, the angle providing you to face him fully in the passenger seat.

Your hands wring together, suddenly nervous for the one thing you actually came to say. You let out a breath, eyes searching for his own but he was looking the other way. His jawline prominent, gaze focused on the trees that brushed in the breeze instead of you.

“Do you still mean what you said?”

Jay pauses. You saw the smallest quirk in his expression, brows frowning as he turned to you lazily. “I didn’t say that on a whim Y/N, I wouldn’t play with you like that,”

“Well, I don’t know. I just wanted to make sure the last week didn’t change your mind,” You shrug, fumbling with the hem of your skirt.

“10 days,” Jay corrects. You wince, knowing exactly how long it’s been but the way you put it seemed better than the emphasis. “You haven’t talked to me since,”

“Neither did you?” Your voice raises an octave, growing defensive while Jay merely hums, a humorless chuckle leaving his lips.

“I told you, you decide where this goes,”

You have to refrain from the groan that wants to leave your lips. You were terrible at touchy-feely serious conversations, that was obvious enough. “I thought about it,” You start, words slow and filled with hesitance. He watched, eyes glued on you though you couldn’t manage to meet his gaze as you stared down at your lap. “I think we both have our faults—lack of communication, fear of commitment, a hard time expressing our actual feelings when things are serious,”

Jay snorts, seemingly already knowing the downsides you were pointing out but doesn’t interrupt.

“So, I think we should work on that,” You add, the words a jumbled mess. “I like you, I do, but I want us to know more about each other. Sex and weed can’t be the only thing that connects us. I want to know about you, without having to force it out. I want you to trust me with whatever personal turmoil you have. I want to be with you, but we can’t just get together and have everything be the same. A relationship to me is more than this, I would be the person who knows you best, the darkest parts of you unapologetically and vice versa,”

Jay doesn’t say anything for a while. When you finally looked up, his eyes held your own. They flickered, searching for what to say and you shifted, embarrassed by the vulnerability and feeling small. “Okay,” he finally utters. “So we should date? Like a proper couple would, I should pursue you? A restart on the dynamic we have, no more sex until I prove to you what I feel,”

“Well—” You stutter, eyes wide and shaking your head. “I didn’t say all that—”

“But you deserve more than what we have now,” Jay interrupts. His voice was steady, clearly already made up in his head while you falter. “I’m sorry for making you feel like I didn’t trust you, like I didn’t want you to actually know me. I’ll do better with that, but if this’ll work you have to allow me to prove it and trust that I mean it. I never wanted you for just pleasure Y/N, not since the start, it was more than that for me but I didn’t know how to show it,”

You nod, the smallest amount of blush forming on the apples of your cheeks. You were nervous, heartbeat thumping through your ears and you had to refrain from hiding behind your hands. “Okay,” You manage out, avoiding his gaze that had shifted from serious to amused in an instant.

Jay leaned closer, the act alone causing you to look the other way as you acted as if the parking lot was fascinating. “Y/N,” He hums, the feeling of his breath tickling the skin by your ear, significantly closer than you anticipated causing you to flinch. He laughs, the sound overwhelming the flutter in your stomach. Jay reaches over, his hand gently tugging your chin, forcing you to look at him but your eyes squeezed shut and you could feel your face grow hot. “Look at me,”

You shake your head. You could hear the smile in his words. In the months of you two together, not once had he ever seen you like this. You were confident, sure of yourself, and rightfully so but now you seemed so shy and embarrassed. Jay couldn’t help but laugh, heart warmed at the sight considering he was the one to make you giddy like you were kids.

“I know I said no more sex but does that apply to kissing too?” Your eyes snapped open at his words, Jay sporting the prettiest smile you’ve seen and you nearly melted at the sight.

“I never agreed to no sex,” You mumble, tilting your head up with a small pout. Your faces were inches apart, the surly tone in your voice not going unnoticed and Jay raised a brow.

“Yeah?” He mumbles, the heat of his breath tickling your lips while you nod. Jay, with his hand still placed delicately along your jaw, pulls you close enough so your lips grazed as he spoke. “Too bad baby, I have to do this right,”

Your protests were interrupted by his lips meeting your own. You practically melted against him, a hand tangling to the back of his head to pull him closer and you felt his smirk against your lips. The kiss was intense, enough to say the unspoken words between you and to make up for the frustration from the past week. Your lips parted, attempting to deepen the kiss but Jay hummed, pulling away but not before nipping your bottom lip, dragging it out for a moment and placing a final chaste kiss.

A small whine of disappointment left your mouth as you attempted to pull him back but Jay shook his head. His fingers brushed a few strands of hair out of your face, your eyes fluttering open to match the sight of his blown out pupils.

“No more,” He finally says, voice raspy but certain. You pout, shaking your head but Jay doesn’t allow you to get closer. “You have to be patient baby, no more,”

You huff, slumping back into the seat with your arms folded. “Fine,” You mutter, visibly bothered while Jay couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight.

“Glad to know you’ve been missin’ me,”

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“Remind me to stop lettin’ them get you high,” Jay mumbles under his breath, hands gripping your waist to keep you from practically jumping on him. You tsk, perched on your tippy toes to place a trail of sloppy kisses up his neck.

“S’not my fault,” You whine, words whispered in his ear. “You look good, and you’ve refused to let me do anything for the past month,” You add, pulling back enough for Jay to get a proper look at you. Lips pouted and swollen, eyes blinking up at him with a doe-y look, you knew exactly what you were doing.

“You get horny when you’re high,” Jay shakes his head, thumb trailing over your lip to fix the smudged gloss but you were quick to wrap your lips around his digit instead. He lets out a breathy laugh, in disbelief at your shameless nature as he takes a quick glance around. “We’re in public Y/N,”

“No one’s around,” You mutter, the words vibrating against his finger. “Let me make you feel good, we can go back to the car,”

“You’re fucking gross,” Jay tsks, though you noted the slight rasp to his words. He pulled his hand away, instead gripping your chin to connect your lips, the kiss hard, hungry and your teeth skimmed one another but you hummed in delight. Before it could proceed, Jay pulled away, pushing himself off the wall he was leant against with you following. “Behave,” He whispered in the shell of your ear, a chaste kiss placed to your temple as he pulled you along, forcing the two of you away from the hidden bathrooms you attempted to drag him to earlier.

You huff but follow without protest. His hand stayed steady against your lower back, protective and guiding through the now more crowded corridor as you made your way back to your seats. You glanced up at him every so often, still pouting over your umpteenth failed attempt. Jay had better self restraint than you thought, even if you had an obvious effect on him and it seemed physically painful to drag you off of him, he has.

You caught a glimpse of his neck, giggling at the sight of your shimmery kiss that stayed imprinted like a tattoo and he raised a brow, silently asking what was so funny but you didn’t elaborate.

The two of you reached the lower level, your friends spotted now all there and filled in their respective seats. Jake was the first to see you both, waving overly excitedly which caught the attention of the others.

At some point, between you and Jay’s agreement to actually attempt at a relationship, your friend groups have merged. Sunoo, Jungwon, and Riki have come around more, no more snarky remarks, no more awkward conversations, but genuinely integrated with Heeseung, Jake, Sunghoon and Jay. Lara and Manon have come around too, it took a while—Jay jumping through hoops of admittedly unnecessary tests, before he got the stamp of approval to court you. There had only been one other time of your friends all coming together thus far, and today was in support of Sunghoon’s hockey game, newly promoted to team captain and Heeseung emphasized how you all had to embarrass him for his first game as captain with large neon poster papers with his face plastered to it.

Somehow, Sunghoon managed to get enough tickets for you all in the lower bowl. How he managed to get them all seated together, you had no idea but you were sure he was regretting it with Sunoo and Manon both holding up signs and screaming rather loudly to get his attention in the players bench where the team was doing their pregame talk.

Two rows your group claimed, five sitting in one and the other four directly in front. The two seats in the second row were left unoccupied beside Jake and Heeseung. “What took you guys so long?” Lara calls out over the sound of the crowd that was filling in the stadium by the second. You merely smiled, shimming past the two to your seat while Jay followed without a word.

You heard a gasp, looking back to Jungwon who pointed at Jay with a grimace. “You guys are sick,” He tuts, the rest who sat above following his gaze and each reacting similarly.

“What? What’re we looking at?” Jake suddenly butts in, peering past you over to Jay with his brows frowned.

You snicker, turning to your almost-boyfriend who smirked. He turned his head, allowing Jake and Heeseung a clear view of his neck and the trail of kisses from your assault on him earlier. Jake gapes, reaching over to give Jay a dap-up while you roll your eyes, smacking their arms away.

Heeseung shakes his head, leaning back in his seat like a disappointed father. “You bring shame to the Lee name,” You scoff, narrowing your eyes and leaning over Jake to smack Heeseung’s elbow off the armrest he was leant against.

“I know you’re not talking, we find you like a damn dog in heat every party,”

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“If he doesn’t fold tonight I think it’s a loss cause,” Lara whistles, arms folding across her front as she takes a once over your body. You smile, applying your gloss and meeting her eyes in the mirror of your vanity.

It was a rare opportunity, a new club opening up near campus and the group all agreeing to hit it together for the first time. With both Sunghoon and Riki’s birthday coming and going, it allowed for the youngest to finally tag along on a night out and an excuse for a celebration before the semester ended and the holidays occurred.

Two months, two months of (mainly) innocent touches, cheesy dates that would’ve made you nauseous thinking about last year, and Jay morphing into the most perfect man as if he were made specifically for you. Countless dates, a million acts of service, and sweet nothings—you were absolutely smitten.

You knew it was your doing, telling him to take things slow, that you wanted to get to know each other first before anything official. And he’s proven that, deep conversations in the middle of the night led to vulnerability, Jay even managing to let himself cry to you for the first time when he explained his family situation and how he started selling to ensure he had money to keep him enrolled in uni.

It was a waiting game at this point. You had no idea when, or how he’d ask, but all that was left for you was to wait for him to make the final move. You’ve mentioned it, and you’ve attempted to seduce him more than once, but he’s held off. You loved the new parts of him, the parts of him that no one else knew and you were thankful he took the time to allow you both to understand one another, but god did you miss him.

Months of the best sex you had gone in an instant was horrendous for your admittedly high libido. You didn’t know how much you depended on your beneficial relationship until then. Not to mention knowing Jay the way you did now only increased your feelings for him, you wanted him for him, not just because he was hot and packed eight inches.

So you dug through your closet, finding the skimpiest little black dress you had no business buying the second you became an adult. Far too short, fitting your curves like a second skin, and deep cut in the neckline that gave a pretty view of your perky tits that sat beautifully thanks to your trusty push up that never failed before.

It was the middle of December, you truly should not be wearing that in the midst of winter and it was obvious enough what your motive was. You didn’t care, entirely shameless and excusing the lack of covering on your body with a large, thick, leather jacket and leg warmers that matched your chunky platforms. You wouldn’t be outside long either, inside the car and club would be warm enough.

Your skin glistened under the low lighting in your room, courtesy of the body shimmer Manon brought over, and your hair cascaded down in a half-up do that Jay has complimented more than once. Your make up was equally stunning, you letting a small sigh out of content as you stood, the jewelry you slipped on earlier adding a nice addition to your outfit and exposed skin.

You gave yourself a once over in your floor length mirror, spraying your signature perfume over your heat points before smiling.

“Oh yeah, he’s done for,” Manon states matter-of-factly, coming back from the bathroom where she finished getting ready. She stood beside Lara in the doorway, both dressed up as well but it was obvious you made an emphasis on your appearance for the night. “If he doesn’t fuck you tonight, call me instead,”

“Me too,” Lara adds, the three of you falling into a fit of giggles complimenting one another. You grabbed your small clutch, the other two mirroring your actions and gathering their things for the night out.

“Ladies, are you ready?!” Heeseung’s loud voice boomed through the walls, his footsteps sounding from his room that he had been cooped up in getting ready himself.

“Yes!” The three of your voices mixed in response, another round of giggles at the mimic while you heard the front door open followed by Jake’s loud voice. You heard a series of footsteps, far too many and male voices mixing together, presumably all the guys filing into your small living room on time.

Heeseung pops his head into your bedroom door. “Okay everyone’s here let’s—” He trails off upon seeing your outfit, you smiling innocently while he frowns his brows. “What the fuck are you wearing?”

“A dress,” You state matter-of-factly. Heeseung scoffs, turning to Lara and Manon who looked the opposite way, knowing well enough he would’ve had a problem with it considering the first time you moved here and attempted at a girls night out in that very dress, he forced you to change.

“You’re wearing a piece of fabric Y/N,” He scolds, visibly uncomfortable with the little coverage on your body while you roll your eyes.

“My ass isn’t out and my tits are covered?” You point out, doing a spin to show, although rather short, the dress still covered enough. “We’re going to a club Hee, with a mob of guys including you, I’ll be fine,”

“You’re going to get us in a fight,” Heeseung shakes his head. “You’re going to get Jay in a fight,” He adds, the thought suddenly popping in his head and you see the way he perked up. “Jongseong, come here and look at what your girlfriend’s trying to wear!”

You scoff, arms folding across your front like a child ready to throw a tantrum but it only draws more attention to the swell of your breasts. Heeseung, being the ever dramatic, gags as he holds a hand up, not wanting to look at anything aside from your face.

“Why would you two let her put this on?” He asks Manon and Lara who shared a look before shrugging.

“She’s grown,” Manon says simply. Lara nods, giving you an apologetic wince as you could hear a set of footsteps echo through the apartment with Jay stepping into view.

“What’re you talking about?” He asks before reaching the doorway. His eyes pick up, immediately falling on you and doing a long trail over your figure. You shift, feeling shy all of a sudden compared to your previous confidence with everyone else, you noted the shift in Jay’s eyes before they met yours, his irises darker than before but he shakes his head. “What’s this?”

“A dress?” You repeat, although significantly less certain this time.

“A hot dress,” Lara interjects, attempting to help you save face and not give in to changing.

“She’s covered, she’s grown,” Manon nods. “Her man will be there along with a group of idiotic guys and us, who will kick anyone’s ass for touching her. Let her wear what she wants, it’s the 21st century! Just cause she has a fat ass and tits doesn’t mean she can’t wear tight clothes and people should know revealing outfits doesn’t give consent so we’ll just start a brawl if anything,” She says the words so simply, leaving no room for discussion.

You nod, thankful for your friends who had your back. Your motive was for Jay specifically, and you knew he wouldn’t let you out of his grasp anyway, but it was nice to hear reassurance.

Heeseung sighs, turning toward Jay giving him the final say. You held his gaze, his expression unreadable but you didn’t waver under the intensity. Finally, he nods, it barely noticeable but you break out into a smile.

“Perfect,” You grin, grabbing your clutch and the jacket from your bed. Manon and Lara giggle, leading the way out of your room with Heeseung rolling his eyes but guiding the group to where the others were waiting. You step out of the doorway, Jay quick to grab your waist and drag you against him.

“You’re playing dirty,” He grumbles, the words whispered against your ear while you hum.

“Not my fault you have a pretty girlfriend,” You shrug, pulling away enough to glance at his features.

Jay raises a brow. “Girlfriend?”

“Ah, right,” You tut, hand reaching up to gently pat his cheek. “Sorry, you have no actual claim on me so hopefully I don’t get too much attention later,” You say with a faux pout, stepping out of his grasp but you hear the scoff that came from Jay.

“If you keep talking shit like that we won’t end up going,” He mumbles, hand falling to your waist but not allowing you any time to respond as he guides you to the living room where the rest filled. You bit back the cheeky smile that wanted to fall upon your lips, the click of your heels gaining everyone’s attention as they were waiting on the two of you.

“Okay good! Everyone take a pregame shot together,” Jake calls out from the kitchen island, the open floor plan showing everyone huddled around him with shot glasses already filled. You felt the pairs of eyes settle on you, Jay unamused as you felt his grip on your hip tightens while he pulls you closer.

“You get two seconds to stop staring,” He calls out, voice low as he watches the pairs of eyes flicker up and around awkwardly, finding anything else to stare at. “Don’t piss me off, I know she looks good but you know better,”

Manon whistles, clapping in delight at Jay’s warning. Lara laughs along with her, Heeseung rolling his eyes and grimacing at the thought of all his friends finding his little cousin attractive. You place a hand to Jay’s chest, reassuring him it was fine.

You clear your throat, stepping to the island and grabbing the two unclaimed shot glasses in front of Jake. Holding one to Jay, you smiled at the group, clearing the uncomfortable air.

“Shots?”

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God, he should’ve made you change. It was bad enough Jay was barely managing himself as it was, but that little black dress that clung to your skin was impossible to ignore. The past hour you’ve been here, you’ve had more than a handful of eyes on you and the ego boost Jay got every time you clung to him did wonders but with the more alcohol that entered your system, the more bold you got.

You were tipsy by the time you reached the club, the pregame shots doing its job in making you feel a buzz. The fruity cocktail you had him order you along with the rounds of shots Heeseung and Jake ordered, setting you over what was the typical amount you drank.

And just like with weed, you were horny when drunk—specifically when Jay was in the vicinity. You had been dancing, a messy group of you, Manon, and Lara. Heeseung and Jake were there with your trio, but the eldest long forgotten after he found a girl for the night and Jake came back to the bar to order another drink.

Each time you returned to the claimed table your group had, you grew closer and closer to Jay. Your hands lingered, the kisses you placed going from his lips to his neck. The last time you came for a sip of your melting Mai Tai, your hand grazed over his pants, feeling his dick that reacted embarrassingly fast to your touch. You sipped from the straw innocently, even engaging in conversation with Sunoo and Riki as if you weren’t attempting to pump him under the table before you disappeared back into the crowd with Manon and Lara at your sides.

Sunghoon nudged Jay’s shoulder, beer in hand that he had been nursing since they first got here as he nodded in your direction. “You guys together yet?” He asks over the blaring music.

Jay, flickering his gaze from you for a second to glance at him, shook his head slightly. He reached for his own glass, taking a sip of the lukewarm liquid with a scrunch of his nose. “Not yet,”

Sunghoon whistles, his eyes scanning over the packed club floor for a moment. “She still need more time?”

“Haven’t asked,” Jay shrugs, the words causing Sunghoon to give him a confused look. “What?”

“Why not?” He laughs. “You guys still not having sex too? Is that why she’s all dressed up and trying to climb on top of you tonight?” Jay rolls his eyes, giving Sunghoon a warning look who merely holds his hands up showing no harm. “I’m just sayin’ man, you know she’s fine, she knows she’s fine. You need to get on that before she gets bored of waiting and finds someone else to mess with,”

“She’s the one who told me to take it slow,” Jay scoffs, suddenly defensive over your relationship as his eyes locked on you in the crowd.

“And you have,” Sunghoon agrees. “You’ve done the cute dating bullshit for the past two months, you’ve opened up to her about everything. You two seem pretty damn close so why not make it official? I’m tired of you taking hour long showers beating your dick everyday, we have one bathroom and too many people in the house,”

“It’s me, you, and Jake,” Jay snickers, finding Sunghoon’s dramatics amusing while the slightly younger of the two nods in emphasis.

“You two keep wasting all of the hot water! Jake has always taken forever but you? I know what you’re doing you sick fuck,” Jay snorts, unable to keep his laughter from bubbling over while Sunghoon lightly shoves his shoulder. “I’m serious. You’re definitely happier now too but you’re still an asshole sometimes. I think the blueballs are getting to you,”

Jay merely nods, not bothering with a defense as his eyes stay glued to your figure. Manon and Lara were dancing, bodies pressed together as Lara was rolling her hips onto Manon to the beat of the song, you yelling in delight giggling at your friends. Your hips swayed along to the music, albeit a bit sloppy due to how much alcohol you had in your system but you were having the time of your life.

Until a random guy suddenly came up to your left, far too close for comfort and you stepped to the side, still in your own little world believing he wanted to dance near you not on you. Manon was quick to catch it, pulling Lara up and Jay watched as the girls pulled you close, away from the unknown man between them. He spoke, Lara frowning her brows and holding up at hand to keep distance.

Aside from Heeseung who had disappeared not long ago, the rest of the guys sat at the table, conversing and watching the nightlife as well as you three in their direct sight. Sunoo leaned across the table, brows frowned as he looked to Jay to ensure he was seeing what they were.

He was, eyes zeroed in on the back of the guy's head but not moving quite yet. You were having fun, still unaware as you danced and Manon and Lara did good at keeping you guarded. If the man walked away, there would be no need for Jay to step in.

“Hyung?” Jungwon says carefully, brows frowning seeing Manon begin to argue with the man.

“The fuck is he doing?” Jake scoffed, words slightly slurred as he pulled himself up. Jay shook his head, standing as well to make his way over. Sunghoon followed, the most level headed as he wasn’t nearly as drunk as Jake and although he’d defend his friends for anything, it wasn’t nearly the same as it was for Jay protecting you.

The youngest three stayed at the table, keeping watch of your belongings but also ready to step in if need be. Riki shook his head, Sunoo’s brows pinched together worriedly, and Jungwon scanned to see if Heeseung was anywhere near.

Jay was bad enough, Heeseung would only add to it as he tended to be irrational when it came to you, especially while drunk.

“Get the fuck away,” Manon’s voice pulled you out of the daze you were in. You frowned, vision slightly blurry as you turned, hyperaware of the fact that you were sandwiched between your two friends though no one was happy and carefree anymore.

“She’s good,” Lara repeats, hand still up creating distance with the unfamiliar man who stood a mere foot away.

“She’s been dancing alone, I can keep her company while you two dance,” The guy offers, an innocent smile on his lips but you frown.

“She has a man,” Manon emphasizes. “She’s fine dancing with us, go away,”

“Why’s she here by herself then?” The guy snickers, looking around for anyone that would’ve been paying attention to you three. The people around you paid no mind, far too drunk and in their own groups to notice the hostility forming. “C’mon, she’s wearing a dress like that here by herself? She wants company,”

“What I’m wearing has nothing to do with you?” You scoff. Lara was quick to grab your arm, a notorious reputation in the Lee family was to pick fights when intoxicated. There’s been less than a handful of times where you actually tried to fight someone bigger than you at parties, typically when a guy was making someone else uncomfortable. “I don’t fucking know you, go away,”

“I’m just trying to have fun baby, don’t act like that,” The man’s tone changed when talking to you, appearing genuine but you rolled your eyes with visible disgust.

“Jay!” You call out, pushing out of the barrier Manon and Lara had on you. You go to move past the guy, certain that the table he’d be at was straight ahead but you’re stopped once the unfamiliar creep grabs you. “Are you fucking dumb? Get off of me!”

Manon and Lara were yelling as well, your elbow flying into the man’s face as you flailed in his hold, the hit to his nose enough for him to stumble. You didn’t have time to turn around and hit him like you anticipated, instead you felt a different pair of hands pull you back. You nearly began to yell again but you turned to see Sunghoon, his hands holding you in place by your shoulders but his eyes were focused ahead.

“What the fuck is your problem?” You heard Jake’s voice over the music. He stood in front of Manon and Lara, shoving the guy back another few steps. Jay stood in front of you, blocking your view but you could see the stiff positioning of his shoulders. “They told you to get lost and you think grabbing her is the answer?”

“Who the fuck are you?” The guy shoots back, hand holding his nose before pressing the damp blood that came from his nostril. “That bitch hit me!”

“No shit,” Jay scoffs, voice dangerously low and humorless through his dry laughter. “Your fucking lucky she’s the one who did it,” He spits while the man takes a second, eyes narrowing at Jay as he analyzed his features longer than necessary.

“Ay, hold on,” He laughs, holding up his hands to show no harm. “You’re Jay, aren’t you? You sell right? Man I haven’t seen you in a while,” The last part was quieter than the rest, the words causing Jay to roll his eyes before it clicked in realization. “That your girl? She’s strong man,”

“What’d I tell you last time Rinu?” Jay lets out an exasperated sigh. “You owe me money, and now you hit my girl? You’re begging like a bitch for me to do something,”

“I didn’t hit her,” Rinu corrects. “I didn’t know she was your girl either, she’s wearing that dress and been looking at me all night so—”

“In your fucking dreams,” You laugh, throughly baffled by his attempt to spin the blame on you. “You’re a fucking pervert who doesn’t know how to take no for an answer,”

Jay turns his head, catching a glimpse of you who struggled in Sunghoon’s grasp, standing on your tippy toes to throw insults over his figure that blocked your sight. He smirks, a hand held out for you to take and Sunghoon lets you leave his side. Jay sighs, his arm slithering around your waist and you fit perfectly into him, his hand holding you tight knowing you could pounce any second to attempt another swing.

“I’ll let your brother know,” Jay nods, the words causing Rinu’s previous smug expression to drain from his face. “I’m sure he’d be happy to handle it for me,”

“Jay, man, come on—”

“One of you wanna walk him out?” Jay interrupts, the words spoken to Sunghoon and Jake who nod in response. Sunghoon moved first, pushing Rinu forward without a word, shoving him through the crowd with Jake tagging along happily, practically bouncing on his feet to talk shit and ensure the club security knew to not let him in again.

“That was fucked up,” Manon huffs, hands running over her hair to straighten out any loose strands.

Lara nods with a sigh. “You need to stop fighting people,” She scolds, pointing a finger at you as you send them an apologetic smile.

“I knew the guys would handle it,” You defend meekly but know well enough your temper gets the best of you at times. “I’m sorry, thank you for defending me at first though. He just wouldn’t take no for an answer,”

“Yeah weirdo,” Manon scoffs. “Who was that guy?” The question was directed to Jay who still had you pulled flush against him.

“His brother used to buy from me a lot, I sold to him a few times but he started flaking on the money. I stopped selling to both of them because of it but he’s scared shitless of his brother. You can imagine how me telling him I wouldn’t sell to him because of Rinu went for them,” Jay shrugs, the old memories of him first selling popping in his head.

“Right, well hopefully his brother fucks him up then,” You mutter bitterly. You wrap your arms around yourself, the outfit you picked suddenly not as comfortable as before causing you to shy away.

The three noticed, Lara holding out her hand to give yours a squeeze. “C’mon, let’s take a break and drink a little more. Fucker ruined my buzz,”

Manon hums in agreement, the two leading the way back to the table where the last three of your group waited, practically buzzing to hear the context of what happened. Jay held you close against him, hands resting on your hips as the two of you shimmed through the crowd.

Just before you reached the table, he pulled you back and placed a lingering kiss on your shoulder. “I’m sorry he touched you,”

You pout, spinning around to face Jay as your hands cup his cheeks. “It’s not your fault, you didn’t do anything wrong,” You reassure, leaning up to place a kiss to his lips. “You guys came in time and we’re fine, let’s not let that ruin the night, okay?”

His eyes closed for a moment, basking in the feeling of your soft hands that caressed his skin. Almost instantly, the simmering anger that stayed beneath the surface began to subside, Jay letting out a breath and his head moved to place a kiss to your palm. “Stay with me for the rest of the night, yeah?”

You smile, nodding along with a little giggle escaping your lips. “You gonna show me your dance moves then, pretty boy?”

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“I’ve decided on my New Year’s resolution!” You grin, your voice carrying through the empty apartment as you waltz into the kitchen. Jay hummed, back turned to you as he stood at the stove, the delectable aroma filling your senses and you nearly went back on your word at the sight of him.

Loose pajama pants hung low on his hips, a black tank top allowed for a view of his arms and shoulders that flexed as he moved. To top it off, the messy bed head and apron over his clothes were disgustingly adorable.

“What’s that, love?” Jay calls back, not expecting you to be standing at the kitchen island so he jumps as he turns around. You smile, leant over the counter and your hair still wet from the shower you just had. The large white t-shirt you borrowed from him was damp in the areas where you pulled your hair forward, the areas see through to your breasts as you wore nothing underneath and he had to force himself to look in your eyes. The new jewelry of your piercings were cute, dazzling hearts on either side of your nipples that poked out beneath the material.

“I’ve decided,” You start, walking around the island to reach him by the stove. Jay nearly dropped to his feet, a dangerous outfit you were wearing as he shared his apartment with Sunghoon and Jake but you were told they wouldn’t be home til the afternoon. The only thing he knew you were wearing was his shirt, he prayed you weren’t cruel enough to walk through his house without your panties as well. “I’m gonna respect myself, no more messing with boys unless we’re in a committed relationship,” Jay paused, eyes narrowing at you who stood with a cheeky smile. “No more kisses, no more touching, and no more sleepovers. I’m off limits until I’m off the market starting right now,”

Jay scoffs in disbelief, turning to shut off the stove, interrupting the breakfast he was amidst making for you. Two weeks ago after the club night out, sleepovers had become a regular routine for the two of you. Nothing went further than the deep make-out sessions and dry humping that forced Jay to lock himself in the bathroom like some loser teenager. He was planning out the way to ask, waiting for the holidays to end to form an anniversary date that wouldn’t share the busy season in the future.

But you, it seems, couldn’t wait another few days. Practically forcing his hand with the no kissing no touching rules, those being his saving grace to keep himself grounded thus far. It would be impossible, especially tonight at the New Year’s Eve party you’d all be attending and the outfit he helped you pick out.

It was cruel, a low blow, but Jay had to give it to you for knowing what you want. He pulled the apron over his head, tossing it onto the counter and taking a step closer to you who still stood with the same cheeky expression, arms folded across your front and ensuring he saw the swell of your tits through the material.

“You know, I had a whole date planned,” Jay starts, you humming as a pathetic attempt to seem sad for him. He corners you against the island, arms trapping you on either side of the marble top but not close enough to touch you. “January 4th,” He sighs, tilting his head with a faux pout. “Day trip, I was gonna take you out to the beach, we’d have a picnic. I even had a necklace ready to give you and a flower order placed. Few days away from the holidays, far enough from anyone’s birthday so I’d be able to spoil you with trips for our anniversary,”

Your resolve falters hearing his words. Your lips part, unable to come up with a proper response hearing his play-by-play and how much thought he put into the day that was quite literally a dream for you. Jay tsks, eyes holding your own with no sense of remorse, instead they were amused, practically egging you on to take back your words.

“This’ll be a funny story to tell our kids, December 31st is our anniversary ‘cause your mom couldn’t wait anymore, forced my hand in asking her in my shitty college apartment,” He mimics, a snort leaving his lips at the hypothetical while your heart picks up at the mention of Jay banking on the long term with you. “You can’t say no now, tell me you’re mine and I’ll give you what you want since you’re so desperate you had to find a way to make me ruin all our plans,”

His voice was low, head dipped dangerously close to yours but he still wasn’t touching. His body invaded your space, almost suffocating but he respected your rule. Your breath hitched in the back of your throat, head tilting to feel his lips against your own but Jay clicks his tongue.

“Tell me we’re together, Y/N,” Jay hums, words raspy and practically mumbled into your mouth but he stayed far enough away to ensure they didn’t quite touch.

“Jay please,” You force out, the whine in your voice almost pornographic and your thighs squeezed together where you stood. “We can do your plan on the fourth, call it our actual anniversary but I need you,” You beg, arms trailing up and falling to his neck. You attempted to pull him closer, to reach up for a kiss but Jay stayed steady. “Please baby, it’s too much. It’s been too long, I miss you—I need you, I know you want me too so please,”

Your attempt at getting him to fold first failed. Exceptionally so but your cloudy judgment refused to let you acknowledge how utterly fucked out you sounded already, something he’d be sure to tease you about later but you didn’t care. You leaned up, straining on your tippy toes to begin a sloppy trail up his neck, sucking at a particular spot below his ear you remember being his favorite. One of your hands trailed down, grazing over the indentation of his muscles, each flexing at your touch until you reached his pants. You paused at the waistband, palm trailing down and you moaned at the feeling of his fully hard cock that was strained in the material.

You peered up at him, hand working through the pajama pants and lips pouted. “Please? Let me make you feel good Jjongie,”

He would’ve been insane to say no. Park Jongseong put up a good fight but the morality he had for your relationship was out the window as soon as you looked up at him. Months, three months he lasted, countless cold showers and growing nearly desensitized to the feeling of his own hand led to this.

“You’re such a slut sometimes,” Jay finally says, the words an insult but you grinned. One of his hands pushed you down to your knees, the other ridding his pants and underwear at once, his erect length smacking against his torso. “You missed my dick that much? Making you act dumb for it?”

You didn’t respond, eyes fixated on his pretty pink tip that was begging for a release. Jay pulled you up, shifting so you sat on his foot and he nearly laughed at the lack of underwear you had on. Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment, suddenly shy but he shook his head.

“C’mere,” Jay mumbles, a hand on the back of your head while the other guides his cock into your mouth. You licked a long strip up his shaft, tongue swirling around the head before spitting extra spit on it. You peered up at him, a smirk on his lips with heavy breaths heaving his chest. You opened your mouth, taking in his girth and you gave yourself a second to adjust but Jay had other plans.

His hips jutted forward, pushing himself deep down your throat without warning and your eyes snapped shut. He pulled back, a hand gently caressing your cheek. “You okay, pretty?”

You nod, a slight soreness beginning in the back of your throat but you loved the way he was handling you. This is what you wanted, to show how eager you were to please and for Jay to use you as he wished. Three long, bullshit months without his dick was hell, you hoped it’d never happen again.

You open your mouth, one of your hands gripping the base of his shaft as you begin to take him in again. You moved up and down, a slow but deliberate pace which allowed you to take him deeper each time. He smiled, head lulling back remembering your lack of a gag reflex as he reached the back of your throat, your cheeks hallowing and staying put for a second on your own accord.

Once you pulled out you spit the excess saliva onto his shaft, your hand pumping up and down creating a slobbery mess along his thighs as well as your chin. “Good job baby, makin’ me feel good with that pretty little mouth,” He praises, the hand on the back of your head having a light hold on your hair. He shoved his dick back into your mouth, guiding you back and forth at a pace he enjoyed and you hallowed out your cheeks, allowing for his hips to move in sync and fuck your mouth. He pressed himself all the way down, your eyes stinging with tears at the feeling of his tip pushed down your throat that clenched unintentionally.

He pulled out, a small pop sounding at suck you had on his tip. You felt him twitch, your lips quirking with a smirk knowing well enough it would be easy to get him to cum, his pent up frustration easy to unfold. You stared up at him, eyes doe-y and wide, lashes fluttering and a beautiful mess of spit that glistened from your lips and chin. You sat beneath him, back arched and shirt hiked up so he got a perfect view of your ass and pushed up tits through the still see-through shirt.

Jay doesn’t say a word, instead his arms hook around your waist and he pulls you up with ease. You yelp in surprise, the cool marble countertop causing goosebumps to arise on your skin while you stare at Jay with the same look. He leans over, a trail of kisses starting from your ankle, working his way up to your inner thigh.

“Jay,” You squirm, his series of open mouth kisses creating a circle around your heat. “Stop teasing,” You pout, hips bucking as he used one hand to push them back down.

He tsks, eyes flickering up to meet your own before placing a kiss to the top of your vulva. A loud gasp leaves your lips, head falling back but growing frustrated as he moves back to your thighs. “You’re so needy,” He hums, breath fanning against your lips as one of his fingers skims over your center. A laugh leaves his lips as reaches your hole, the collection of arousal drenching the digit enough for him to slip it in with ease.

“Oh my—” A loud moan escaped your lips, hips rolling, feeling his finger curl, the size of his hands much larger than yours and doing so much more than you ever could. Your pussy clenches around him, a measly finger enough to make you a mess and he can’t help but smirk at the sight of you pulling him in. “Fuck, fuck, please. More Jjong, please,”

Jay licks a strip up your folds, finger still inside and pumping in and out slowly. Your moans fill the room, his tongue flattening against your core, flicking up and down your clit as if he were starved. He hums against you, the vibration causing your hips to buck and legs clench, Jay forcibly holding your legs down to continue. He was good, one of the only guys to make you cum on his tongue before, but something about the desperation he was giving was intoxicating. His finger fluttered in and out of you, a second added in the mix while he practically made out with your clit. Licking, sucking, listening to your reactions and curling his fingers hitting just the right spot.

“Oh fuck,” You rush out, hands finding his hair and tangling through the strands. “Oh my god, baby, please don’t stop,” Your hips bucked, moving in sync with his mouth that refused to come up for a breath of air. His nose nudged against your clit every so often, tongue swirling up and down with his fingers pumping in you at an overwhelming rate. A loud moan escaped your lips, your walls clenching around his digits and Jay continued to lick your clit slowly, ensuring your orgasm road out as long as it could as your legs closed due to the sensitivity.

When he finally pulled away, the bottom portion of his face was wet with your slick. He gently pulls his fingers out of you, making sure to suck the drops of you clean before he stood up. Your eyes met his own, pupils blown out and heavy breaths filling the space between you.

“You okay?” He asks softly, leaning over your body and placing a kiss to your lips. You hum against him, tongue swiping against his own and you felt his smile. “Good, we’re not done yet,” He mumbles, the feeling of his shaft swiping up your slick folds causing you to gasp. He smears the precum off his tip, giving his dick a few pumps as he grazes the tip against your pussy.

“You’re so pretty baby,” Jay praises, one hand squeezing your hip while the other guides his tip to your hole. Gasps left each other's lips, your eyes half-lidded as you stared up at him. His hips push forward, pushing himself further into you at a dangerously slow pace. Your pussy clenches around him all the way until he bottoms out, stilling for a moment to gain his composure. “Fuuck, I’ve missed you,” He mumbles, head tilting back and eyes shut in pleasure.

Your moans fill the air between you, your hips moving to create some type of friction causing him to hiss. “H-hold on baby,” Jay stutters, eyes still shut and you see the way he forced himself to hold back. His chest heaved with heavy breaths, your hand trailing down his prominent muscles with a pout. “I haven’t felt you in a while, gonna make me cum too fast,” He explains in a hushed voice, gaze meeting your own and noting the smirk that picked up on your lips.

“Guess you’ll just have to give me more than one then,”

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Three rounds. Three you managed in under two hours. One in the kitchen, one in the bedroom, and one in the shower attempting to clean up from the other two. It was a record for the both of you, the urgency due to how pent up you both were along with the fact you wanted to finish before either Jake or Sunghoon had come home.

Jay had just finished cleaning up the kitchen when the pair walked in. The two complained about the windows having been opened in the midst of winter but Jay snorted back stating it was either be cold or them coming home to the smell of sex.

There was a series of yells, disgusted by the fact that the two of you fucked somewhere in the shared space before shifting to thanks of a higher being for Jay getting pussy for the first time in months. Jake had personally come to thank you, wishing you a happy sex life so his best friend wouldn’t be a “pent up prick all the time.” The conversation then shifted to congratulations on your relationship, genuinely happy for the two of you and boasting that they were the first to know but you shut them down before they could text the group chat and wreck havoc.

Jay explained, with minimal details, that your anniversary would technically be the fourth. Sunghoon snorted at the fact that you both were too horny to wait but also stated how utterly stupid it was to wait until you were a couple in the first place considering you had been fucking for a long time prior.

Now here you were, sitting in the passenger seat comfortably lacing your fingers with Jay’s who drove. Meanwhile, Manon, Lara, and Sunoo were crammed in the back. The other half of your group crammed in Sunghoon’s car—though Jungwon volunteered himself as the DD so he drove for the night.

“You guys make me sick,” Manon huffs, tossing the empty water bottle she had been hydrating with in your direction.

You sent her an innocent smile, tossing the bottle back as Sunoo and Lara laugh at the sight. You hear Jay’s chuckle, his eyes flickering from the rear view mirror to see Manon’s finger flick you off but you paid her no mind. You smiled at him, this time genuine and he spared you a glance as you rolled to a spotlight. He peered to the backseat, a smirk forming on his lips before leaning in, placing a chaste kiss to your lips earning a series of grumbles and gags from the back.

You looked to the front, the light still red and you took the opportunity to pull Jay back. You connect your lips once more, his smile felt against your lips and your free hand holding up the middle finger in response to your friends who groaned with dramatics.

He pulled away as the light flickered green, instead lacing your hand with his own and placing a kiss to your knuckles.

“Sick!” Manon huffs.

“Wait, when’d you get this bracelet?” Sunoo suddenly asks, pointing to you and Jay’s interlocked hands, the dazzling sparkle of your newly gifted tennis bracelet shining in the nightlight.

Lara hums, patting Sunoo’s shoulder. “I forget you went home for Christmas,” She giggles, wiggling her brows suggestively. “It was her present from Jay,”

“Along with a Prada bag and a gazillion new make up items,” Manon snorts, you sticking her tongue out at her which she mirrors.

“I also got her lingerie,” Jay adds nonchalantly. You gape, smacking his shoulder while he laughs. Lara gasps, the final gift being unknown while Sunoo cringes.

“Was it cute?” Manon asks and you nod.

“Hot,” You smirk. “I’ll show you guys later, it’s comfortable too,”

Jay whips his head at the mention of you sharing his outfit choice. You giggle, rubbing his shoulder reassuringly while the girls snicker from the back.

“Sorry Jay, before you there was us. We got all the nudes and pre-approved them,” Lara shrugs.

“I literally pierced her nipples,” Manon snorts. “You’re welcome for that by the way,” Your eyes widened, Sunoo choking on his spit in the corner where he sat.

Jay stiffened, sparing you a glance while you fumble for your words. “Manon!” Was the best you could come up with, voice an octave higher and Lara laughing from her seat in the middle.

Manon pauses, turning to Sunoo and wincing. “Sorry?” She offers. “I forgot not everyone here has seen you naked, my bad,”

“Naked?” Jay interjects.

Lara sighs, patting his shoulder with a shake of her head. “We’re girls Jongseong, this is normal, don’t take it personal,”

Manon hums in agreement, you smiling sheepishly as he glances at you. You shrug, pulling his hand closer toward your chest.

Sunoo, now knowing far too much information about the three of you, wished he switched places with Riki earlier. Jay doesn’t say anything for a moment, stiff silence falling over the car before he smirks.

“Good job on the piercings,”

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“Do I have to piss on your leg like a dog or what?” Jay scoffs, allowing you to drag him away from the random guy who attempted on hitting on you after he disappeared to the bathroom for two minutes. You snort, shaking your head and guiding your way through the sea of people.

There was a surprising amount at the frat party. You would’ve assumed most would’ve been home for the break, but that didn’t stop the house from being filled to the brim and everyone packed in like sardines. Loud music blared throughout, the sound traveling to the backyard where your seats were left.

Jungwon, Riki, and Sunghoon sat in the far corner around the fire-pit that was claimed early on in the night. You and Jay being the only couple, choosing to shy away from the crowd inside, were joined by each due to their introverted nature or simply because they didn’t want to deal with the scene inside.

You made your way back, settling into your seat, well Jay’s even though you had your own but he refused to have you anywhere aside from his lap. You were covered up, outfit certainly more acceptable for the cold weather and snuggled into his embrace. You felt him shift beneath you, a familiar baggy being pulled from his jacket causing you to raise a brow.

“I said I’d stop selling this new year, not smoking,” Jay winks, placing a kiss on your temple as you roll your eyes. The lighter igniting caught everyone’s attention, Jay helping you start with the first puff, the smoke filling your senses with a deep inhale. Jay lifted his gaze, glancing over at Jungwon and Riki. “You guys smoke?” He asks as he takes a hit of his own, passing the joint to Sunghoon.

Jungwon shakes his head, Riki holds up his puff bar instead that he pulled from his pocket. Your eyes light up, seeing the pretty light pink vape and Jay shakes his head knowing you were enticed by the color. “What flavor is that?”

“Peach-guava,” Riki answers, rolling his eyes at Jungwon who snorted at the fruity flavor. He passed the bar to Sunghoon, who exchanged the joint to him before handing it over.

You grin, taking a deep inhale and instantly feeling the smoke flood your senses. The fruity smell mixed with the flower, Riki taking his first hit from the joint with a cough immediately leaving his lips. Sunghoon hold out his half empty water bottle to the youngest, you blowing out a long puff of air directly in Jay’s face as he grimaced.

You giggle, enjoying the flavored air and hold the vape for Jay to try. Him shaking his head, gently pulling the puff bar from your hands to make its way back to Riki. “I don’t like nic,” Jay mumbles, scrunching his nose at the fruity air that still lingered.

“Baby,” You tease, sticking out your tongue while Jay rolls his eyes.

“Shits nasty,” He says simply. “It’s worse for you too,”

“Oh and smoking weed like a habit isn’t?” You snort.

“It’s not as bad as long as you’re not addicted,” Sunghoon chips in, taking a long drag from the joint before it finally reaches you and Jay. You pout with a small huff. Jay smiles, his arm tightening around you to pull you closer.

He lifted the spliff to his lips, taking an inhale before leaning up, his lips ghosting against your own to exhale the smoke in your mouth. You smile, connecting your lips fully as Jay hums against you.

“Gross,” Jungwon boos, Sunghoon and Riki chuckling at the sight of you two.

“Shut up man,” Jay teases, lifting the joint to your lips for a puff. You oblige, maintaining the eye contact that Jay forced himself to break, swallowing hard causing you to smile.

You placed a chaste kiss to the shell of his ear. “Another round before the new year?”

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“Fuck, baby, you’re so pretty,” Jay groans, feeling your slick against him as you grind your hips down on his shaft. The two of you managed to slip away from the others twenty minutes ago, giving yourself thirty minutes before midnight when they’d be sure to come looking for you.

Perched in the backseats of Jay’s car, you had just pulled yourself up from giving him head. Your legs wrapped around his waist, you naked aside from your panties that were pulled to the side while Jay still had his shirt on and pants pooled down at his ankles.

Jay, ever the courteous, was kind enough to lay down a spare blanket he had tucked away in the trunk months ago after a day trip to the beach with the guys, considerate of your friends who would be making their way home with you later on.

His hands trail up your skin, the dim lighting from the street lamp being the only illumination in the car parked along the quiet street aside from the frat house in full swing. Jay pulled you closer, arm wrapped around your waist and shifted so he was able to take one of your nipples in between his lips. Your head lulled back, humming in delight feeling his tongue swipe against the cool metal bar, toying with your piercing and his other hand gently rolled the other nub between his finger tips.

You lifted your weight off his lap momentarily, hand falling to his hard shaft and guiding the tip between your lips. You smile, feeling him hum against you, the pool of arousal between your legs more than enough lubricant as you slowly inched down on his dick. Breathy moans fill the air, your eyes pinching shut at the fullness and Jay’s grip on your hips tightening. You stilled as you bottomed out, allowing you both a second to settle at the feeling of his cock buried all the way inside you.

Your hips rocked, slowly at first. The curve of his dick hitting just right, tip kissing your cervix and clit rubbing against his pelvis creating more friction. You couldn’t remember the last time you rode him, making a mental note to do so more often and Jay’s half lidded eyes stayed focused on you. His hands stay put on your waist, guiding you back and forth, encouraging you to move against him at a consistent pace.

You felt him twitch, your eyes opening to see Jay fixated on your stomach. You roll your hips, moaning at the feeling but Jay presses his palm against your lower abdomen, the feeling causing the fullness of his dick to increase.

“Oh fuck,” He breathes out. “I’m all the way in you, huh?” He smirks, the belly bulge something new he hadn’t seen before and couldn’t help but boost his ego at the sight.

You let out a breathy laugh, lifting your hips slightly before pushing back down. Jay moans, the sight of him filling you euphoric, his hands helping guide you up and down, slow at first, deliberate with each stroke before his hips began to meet you halfway. The lewd noises of your skin hitting filled the car, the wetness between you heard, your arousal dampening your thighs.

“Jay,” You moan, tits bouncing along to each stroke, palms pressed to his chest, nails digging into his skin with the recoil of your ass hitting his hips. “Feels so deep,” You add, words mumbled together in a jumbled mess.

A phone rings through the hot air between you. A groan leaving your lips as you fumbled behind your back, picking up the buzzing phone without a glance at the screen for Jay to answer. You stopped bouncing on his dick, giving yourself a small break as he held the device up to his ear.

“What’s up?” Jay asks without a hitch, voice steady but his eyes stay glued to your body. His free hand sat at your waist, rolling your hips forward against his own as your eyes widened, biting back a muffled moan. “We’re a little preoccupied,” He answers after a beat, loud voices jumbling together and you watch the smirk form on his features. From the smug tone of his voice, and the coincidence of the both of you disappearing without explanation, it didn’t take a genius to know what you two went off to do.

He juts his hips forward, skin slapping together creating a clap and your hand flies up to your mouth. He pulls the phone away for a split second, the same cheeky smile on his features as he winks. “Yeah we’ll meet you guys after,”

You heard a series of voices, no doubt your friends and in particular hearing Manon scream through the speaker that Jay winced at. He rolls his eyes, ending the call and tossing the phone beside him on the backseats. “Always interrupting us,” He tsks playfully, hands helping you bounce up and down and hips meeting your own at an equal rhythm. You smiled, though it didn’t last as moans fell from your lips, his name repeated like a prayer while Jay leaned forward, one hand falling to your clit and managing to capture one of your tits in his mouth, tongue circling around your nipple and sucking with a pop.

“Good job baby,” Jay praises, heavy breaths leaving his lips. Your eyes squeeze shut, palms pressed to his chest and he could feel your pussy clench around him. “There you go, make yourself cum on my dick, yeah?”

“Mhmm,” You mewl. A whine comes from your lips, the familiar pit in your stomach tightening and the feeling of his cock hitting deep into your cervix was enough to push you over the edge. You could hear Jay’s heavy breathes, each becoming more shallow, his grip tightening on your body, and quiet moans followed the feeling of your walls that clenched around him.

“Fuck, oh my—fuck, Jay please,” You hips jut down, stopping the in and out thrust to instead feel every inch of his dick buried all the way inside you. You rock yourself back and forth, fast and deliberate, chasing the pleasure while Jay couldn’t help himself, eyes ravishing the way you used him, the sight of your tits bouncing in his face and the fucked out look you sent him was enough.

Almost simultaneously, you tense, body shaking and pussy clenching with a loud series of moans. Feeling your own orgasm, the heat that flooded within you added to the euphoric feeling, the twitch of Jay’s dick buried inside you—shooting out hot beads of cum directly in your cunt, was overstimulating in the best way possible.

“Good job pretty girl,” Jay pants, head thrown back against the seats, hands gripping your thighs stopping your body from bucking, legs tense against his own. “You did so well, such a good girl f’me,”

You slump against his body, head buried in the crook of his neck with his arms wrapped around your waist. The slight sweat on your bodies ignored, pressed against one another as close as humanly possible as you regain your breath. “M’tired,” You mumble, words whispered against his skin and Jay laughs lightly.

“I know my love,” He agrees, a hand soothingly trailing up and down your back. A lingering kiss was placed to your cheek, sweet and innocent, filled with more than lust from before. You turn your head slightly, enough so your faces are centimeters apart but able to look at Jay. His eyes were glossy, a certain fondness in his gaze that you couldn’t help but smile at. “What’s so funny?” He tsked, though he sported a toothy grin of his own at the sight of your glowing state.

“You like me,” You giggle, a little delirious but entirely satisfied with the childish statement. He chuckles, nodding once with another short peck to the tip of your nose.

“I do,” he confirms. “You like me too,”

“I do,” You repeat, the same giddy expression on your features. Jay hums, his gaze flickering away from you after a moment. Silence fills the car, your steady breaths mixing but your eyes stay trained on Jay, at first merely admiring his features in the dim lighting, but you felt a subtle shift in his demeanor.

If you didn’t know him so well, you could’ve missed it. So you sat up slightly, your finger reaching out to poke the dimple in his cheek, pulling him out of the daze where he was staring out the car window. He blinks, shaking his head and gently moving your hand away from his face, lacing your fingers together instead.

“What’s wrong?” You ask, words quiet and soft, as if you spoke too loud it would break the bubble you were in. Jay hums, shaking his head with a small smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. You frown, sitting up entirely to look at him properly. “Jay,”

“Nothing baby,” He reassures, though it did little to help the visible nervousness in his eyes. You tilt your head, completely disregarding the fact that he was practically cock warming you, and entirely ready to have a proper conversation. “I promise, s’nothing important,”

“We just had insanely good car sex but you look worried instead of relieved,” You deadpan. “It’s important now. Talk to me Jjong, you know I’d rather know than you let it fester alone,”

Jay pauses, taking a deep breath as his eyes shut. The hand interlocked with your own squeezing tighter, as if he were afraid you’d slip through his fingers. “Is…” He begins, a slight crack in his voice and you frown. Jay opens his eyes to meet your own, the visible glossiness holding back tears which causes you to react immediately, your free hand brushing against his cheek as you urge him to continue. “Would it scare you away if I told you I love you?”

You pause, mouth parting agape in surprise. Your heart begins to thump in your chest, loud enough you were sure he could hear it too. “You’re not just saying that out of post-nut delusions, right?” You mumble, lamely attempting to lighten the air between you, giving Jay the room to take back his words but he shook his head.

“I know we only agreed to something real a few months ago,” He starts, a nervous smile playing at his lips but his words stay steady. “And we’re not technically official,” Jay snickers, shooting you a pointed look while you laugh, the nervousness in your expression obvious and you could feel the lump in your throat growing. “But we’ve been doing, whatever this is, for a year. It’s been you for me from the start, and I think with me finally pursuing you in the way I should’ve a long time ago allowed for clarity,”

Your vision grew blurry, tears pooling at the corners of your eyes that mirrored Jay’s. The confession was vulnerable, you felt shy and entirely too nervous to function but the warmth that spread in your stomach let you know that the inkling of fear was a good thing.

“I’m not expecting you to say it back,” Jay says quickly, a deep breath leaving his lips as if it were out of relief. His hand reaches up, fingertips grazing against your skin and pushing away the strands of hair that fell into your gaze. “Trust me—I’ve been thinking about it. A lot,” He admits, you letting out a watery laugh as he smiles. “It popped in my head one day, it felt dumb at first. But since then every time we were together, every time I thought about you, every time we said goodnight it was like a reflex, it feels right,”

You were at a loss for words, staring back at Jay with the start of tears beginning to dance down your cheeks. It was overwhelming, and you’d be sure to look back on it one day and laugh at the fact that your first ‘I love you’ came after a rendezvous in the car on New Years but for now, it was perfect.

“Who knew Mr. Bad Reputation could be such a softie, crying as he confessed his undying love for me?” You giggle, allowing for Jay to brush away your tears with the pads of his thumb. He rolls his eyes, wiping away the stray few that managed to escape the corners of his own but he stared back at you with the same fondness. “You love me, Park Jongseong?”

“I love you, Lee Y/N,” He confirms, the words soft but clear. You couldn’t help the smile that fell on your features, leaning forward to place a long, lingering kiss to his lips that you felt Jay grin against.

“I guess I love you too,” You tease, words mumbled against his skin and Jay snickers, arms wrapped around you keeping you close. Your hands tangled in his messy hair, basking in the warmth between you with small, innocent kisses shared between you.

A ping echoed simultaneously from your phones. The brightness from the screens lit up the dim car, both your eyes falling to Jay’s phone which was still placed beside him, a new message from the shared group chat between your friends the cause. But you paused, noting the time displayed at the top of the screen. Jay, seemingly reading your mind, sent you a heart stopping grin.

“Happy New Year, Jjong,”

“To many more nights like this, pretty girl,”

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