#his stage presence it's everything

[anonfromtheflight]

Omar Rudberg – Om om och om igen

Thank you dear @darktwistedgenderplural for letting me know of the existence of this performance. Long haired Omar Rudberg has given a new meaning to my life omg

[jeonsupershy]

*wonu's voice* my grandiose dream😭💎🩷🩵

[c0rpsedemon]

ok fr last one but there's actually a bootleg of my school's anastasia and i'm linking it bc you all NEED to understand that my infatuation with this one girl's voice which started when i was in the 6th grade and still hasn't really worn off isn't based on nothing

[lock-my-feelings-in-a-jar]

[boy-armageddon]

also quick note re: my previous post's tags. have i said before that, for a presumably heterosexual man, johnny whitney has had some of the most insanely homophobic (and occasionally transphobic) vitriol spewed at him for one reason or another ive seen. because holy shit

[hellfireeddiemunson]

idk if any of u listen to the happy fits but i saw their show last night and they were SO FUCKING GOOD

[lalunanymph]

GRASSLAND ROMANCE

SUMMARY the strongest tribal chieftain sets the stage to claim his most priceless reward

WARNINGS prisoner of war!reader, slave!reader, tribal chief!sylus, first time, fight-to-death-trope, concubine!reader, oral sex, breeding, mentions of lactating, size kink, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of misogyny, bartering, winning her favor trope, loosely based on the new sylus myth card, mdni, 18+

DAWN SAYS it's daddy sylus's time hehehe second one down, 2 more to go !! sylus is my ult bias and I definitely wanted to go for more of a khal drogo x daenaerys vibe when I started this out, so keep an eye out for bit of dark content discussed here... that being said, will be cross-posting this to a03 soon so stay tuned! <3

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ─── ZAYNE ⊱ XAVIER ⊱ RAFAYEL

The grasslands were not kind to those unfamiliar with its ways.

As a little girl, your grandmother would tell you stories of the fearless warriors traversing these bare lands in search of resources to plunder, steal and conquer. It instilled a sense of fear in you; a knowing instinct to never step out of line less you wanted to suffer the consequences of losing everything you loved.

The day you met Sylus was the day your short life came to its meaningless end.

Taken from your homelands to his tribe, you were relegated to cleaning tasks and cooking; trying to keep your head down and eyes off of you less you wanted to suffer fatal repercussions.

Your days living in sweet bliss were over; your childhood and girlhood gone in one fell swoop.

And yet, despite your best efforts to go undetected, you wound up catching the eye of the fearsome chieftain. His calls for you to his yurt could not be ignored.

You fully expected him to take advantage of your vulnerable state, using his position to conquer what remained of your dignity and hope. 

But, Sylus proved to be a different man behind his ruthless reputation.

A fan of music and wildland games, he often asked you to keep him company for the day, and when the nights got too cold, you were ushered into his private space, allowed to warm yourself with his brazier. 

The scent of moist rose and grapevine trimmings filled the air as you lounged right in Sylus’s arms, enjoying the warmth of his presence and the fire glowing brightly while snow and sleet raged outside of his yurt.

The fearless tribal chieftain was a relaxed man tonight, savoring the presence of his favorite concubine right in his lap. His large hands stroked your hair, fingers running through your locks. The robes he dressed you in were heavy yet comfortable, providing you shelter from the cold; a stark difference from the slave rags you were forced to wear during your earlier encampment. 

“What is on your mind, beloved?”

Beloved. Despite what everyone said or thought about you, Sylus saw you in a different light. A tender and cherished one.

You turned your head to gaze at him, a softness you reserved solely for him shining from your eyes.

“I was lost in my thoughts; thinking back to the time when I first got here.”

A dark look flitted across his face, and he fixed you with a prodding look.

“I know what happened was not ideal for you, beloved. But, you are safe now. I will not let anyone in this camp harm you.”

His promise was as good as gold in this world. Sylus was not someone who would mince words or give you false hope. Despite his stature as one of the most fearsome conquerors of this land, he was a man of integrity and word.

And yet… you couldn’t help the sadness eclipsing your features. 

The ceremonial choosing of his bride was coming up soon, and from the lines of women prepared for him, you paled in comparison. These women were trained from birth to please him, cook for him, and be the bearer of his children. They were thought in the grassland ways, something you were not familiar with.

The women chosen for him did not stick out like a sore thumb, nor were they foreigners of this land.

Each of them were meticulously handpicked to appeal to his tastes and desires; where you fit in, you had no clue. 

It wasn’t as if you were his tribe’s de facto pick. You were sure you weren’t on any of the elder’s lists, your fate relegated to being his concubine for life.

As if he could read your mind, Sylus tilted your face up to look him in the eyes. 

“Beloved, you are the only one for me. There is no one else in these lands I would rather spend my days with.”

You wanted to ask him why; what could possess a man like him to love a lowly woman like you?

But, you enjoyed his caresses on your cheeks and jaw; snuggled closer to him as the wind tore through the night, safe and secure right in his arms.

The next morning, you were pulled aside by one of the village elders, Enkh, as he looked you up and down. 

“My son needs a new wife after his old one died in childbirth,” scrutinizing you from head to toe, he fixed his beady gaze on you like a dishwasher studying a piece of vermin on a brass plate. “And you will do.”

The idea of being married to Enkh’s son, known as the most ruthless and cruel man in the entire tribe, filled you with unadulterated fear. You had no say in your fate, and spent the entire day wondering how to tell Sylus—the chieftain himself—of your dilemma.

But, you didn’t have to open your mouth and divulge the truth.

Sylus already knew.

He called you out to his tent, where some men who were sparring upped and left the second you arrived. In your hands, you held a pouch, given to you by Enkh’s wife before you left their yurt.

A symbol of choice for a woman about to be married, you were given explicit instructions to hand it to his son after his sparring win tomorrow. It was tradition for the winner to receive a wife as compensation, and from the thunderous look on Sylus’s face, you could tell he was not at all pleased about this latest development.

“They claimed you, just like that? Without my agreement?”

Despite not being his official concubine, everyone in the tribe knew of your position with the chieftain. You were virtually untouchable, and only higher up families like Enkh’s, could make the play for one of his concubine’s hands. 

This displeased your lover, who took it as an affront to his rule. 

But, he didn’t react the way you expected him to, with violence and malice as the forefront of his actions. 

Sylus led you to the heart of his yurt, where thick layers of felt and wool provided insulation from the chill. Dressed in traditional Bökh gear, he was preparing for the ceremonial sparring to begin when he heard word of your impending nuptials to Enkh’s son. He dragged you down to his side, letting you rest on the rugs and pillows surrounding the area before he shared what was on his mind. 

“Do you want to marry into that family, Y/N?” 

Instinctively, you shook your head. “No, Sylus.”

He nodded, pleased at your swift rebuke. “I am going to be honest with you—the only way we can circumvent both of our fates to marry different people is for me to participate in the fights myself.”

You gasped, wide-eyed at the revelation. “But, it’s unheard of. You are the chieftain!”

Rough fingers touched your face, caressing your cheek with a softness he only showed to you.

“I know, my beloved. But, think about the alternative. I do not want to lose you.” 

A grin stole across his handsome features, and he shot back: “If I lost, I’d be stuck here forever—in this limbo of never having you… but then again, could I really lose?” 

Unperturbed by his musings, you raised the stakes by straddling his lap, glaring down at him. In this position, he had to hear you out; he had to allow logic to take hold of his wilful mind. 

“Sylus, the rules of the game means that you have to steal the gem from your other opponent and then you can stake your claim. Are you sure you want to do this? You cannot back out once the games have started.”

The Grassland Festival, or the most important festivity for Sylus’s tribe that was happening in a few hours, was in tandem with the fighting ring for men to win the hands of their future wives. 

His red eyes, which shone like a grassland sunset, appraised your form astride his lap; soft and sure.

“My love, you severely underestimate my devotion to you.”

Turning your fates around, he flipped you back onto the soft pillows and rugs, a look of fond playfulness in those jewel-toned eyes.

“All I have to do is fight, yes? And I have never lost a fight.” 

His soft touch tucks a stray lock of your hair behind your ear. “You are the prize I must win, my love. I will do everything I can to make sure we stay together.”

Filled with happiness and the surety of his tone, you put your faith in what came next. 

Long and nimble fingers snuck to your waist pockets, where he retrieved the pouch given to you by Enkh’s family. 

“Hey—!”

You tried to reach back for it, but he held it from you, a smirk playing on his defined lips. 

“Is this what you are going to give the boy?” 

Warmth splashed across your cheeks as you tried to glare him down.

“Despite what you may think, you do not own every aspect of me, Sylus. I reserve the need to keep some secrets to myself.”

He hummed, clearly not believing you. “And yet, you spoke of the sincerity of our feelings. Isn’t this me being honest, little dove?” 

You sputtered, tripping over your refutes, and he rolled his eyes.

“Alright, love. Let me make it simple—”

He lifted you closer to him, letting you fall over his lap. The sudden proximity filled your senses purely with him; igniting sparks of heat across your entire body. 

“If someone were to hand the champion a pouch, should he take it?” 

He was teasing you, and it was clear he wasn’t planning to let up anytime soon. 

You huffed, trying to swipe it again. But, he was nimbler than you, yanking the pouch away from your outstretched hand. 

Sighing, you tried to pull him up, grumbling when you barely made him move an inch.

“Have you been training more?” You grumbled, eyeing his broad shoulders; the muscles stretching across his tanned skin. 

“Perhaps. Although as much as I have been honing my skills, I do still need someone to look out for me.” 

His smirk threatened to affect your entire composure, and you darted your eyes away, flushed and embarrassed at how easily he could get to you. 

The faith you had in him to win was astounding; there was a reason why he was known as one of the best warriors in the grasslands. 

“You’re the champion,” you grumbled under your breath. “Do you need me to watch your back?”

In response, Sylus’s smile softened around the edges, his red eyes taking on a tender quality. 

“Let me paint you a scene, love: I win the challenge, and then I get to be yours. How does that sound?” 

Tugging a stray lock of hair which fell loose from your braid, Sylus waited for your answer patiently. 

It was useless to try and dispute him. Whatever the strongest wanted, he would get—and he clearly wanted you. 

“Alright,” you responded softly, conceding with a smile. “If you win tomorrow, I will hand you my pouch. There is nothing you cannot do.”

Responding to your confidence, he chuckled softly, teasing you more by dragging you closer to him, enjoying your weight pressing onto his body.

“Or, we could do it together.”

He hummed, touching the hollow of your throat with his cool lips. Your eyes fluttered shut, trying to staunch your reckless sounds.

“The second I get that gem, you run up to me, crowning me as your chosen one and I respond back.”

Struggling to control your raging thoughts, you murmured: “Will it work—such boldness?” 

To answer your question, he smirked, finding your flustered expression and slight doubt adorable. 

“My, my, love. Are you doubting me?” 

The world flipped around, and suddenly you were thrown over his shoulder. You gasped, confusion mingling with surprised delight as Sylus manhandled you with practiced ease. He stepped past the plush pillows and rugs, opening the flap of his yurt to bring you out into the mellow morning. 

“Wh-what are you doing?” Your sharp inhale spurred on his laugh, his low and rich chuckle making you flush warmly. 

“Didn’t you tell me this before, love? Actions speak louder than words.” To your mortification, he was heading right to the middle of the courtyard, where spectators were already gathering to witness the fight. 

“Sylus—!”

You smacked his broad shoulders, but he wouldn’t let you down. Sylus already had a plan in mind and you were helpless to stop him. 

“Oh, love, relax,” he teased, taking long, purposeful strides towards the other villagers. “I need to show them I already have a lover. And since she won’t let me take her away…” you could plainly picture his cocky smirk. “... I’ll just have to take her myself.” 

The rest of the villagers stopped in their tracks when they noticed their chieftain walking towards them, a smaller woman in his arms. Elders dropped what they were doing to whisper under their breaths, their judgemental eyes trained on Sylus’s smug face and the look of mortification on yours.

“Sylus—”

He set you down in the front stand, tossing you a wink for good measure.

Whispers rushed around the arena like wildfire, catching aflame from the look of pure devotion in his eyes; a look reserved just for you. 

Enkh’s son, a hulking brute by the name of Altan, shot him a glare—insulted by Sylus’s blatant claim on you.

Motivated by his wrath, the tribal chief turned to the other man, raising a brow. 

“Altan, son of Enkh!” 

His voice boomed across the field, shocking you out of your mortified stupor. 

“You dare claim one of my concubines as your wife? Do you know what that entails?”

The atmosphere in the arena tilted towards a frenzy, the people inadvertently roped in to witness the showdown of the year.

Since ceremonial rites were read and sacrifices were made, the last agenda for today would be the warrior fights. Sylus took his spot in the ring, unafraid. The head monk, a calm man by the name of Bataar, whispered something to Enkh, who glared at you as if this entire ordeal was your fault.

You shrank back in your seat, attempting to hide your scorching cheeks behind your palms.

The fight began, and it was clear from the onset that it would be an unfair one. Sylus, whose expertise and years on the field, easily overpowered Altan, pinning him to the ground. A horn blared, and the winner was declared.

A stirring eagerness and relief moved you from your seat, and you didn’t care for customs or etiquette when you ran across the ring, jumping right into his open arms. Sylus lifted you off your feet with ease, spinning you around, his laughter mingling with yours. 

In his palm, he held the priceless gem he stole from Altan’s belt— a symbol of his opponent’s virility. Its capture meant that he had won the other man’s intended bride fair and square. He handed it to you, and right in front of his entire people, you proudly proclaimed your acceptance of his proposal—slipping the jewel right inside of your pouch and handing it to him. 

Triumphant, Sylus took your offered gift, tucking it in the lapels of his leather harness with a contented grin. 

The tribe elders were helpless to stop their strongest from claiming you, as was the custom of these rituals. 

Sylus had no hesitation when he slung you over his shoulder again, a conqueror who had rightfully won his beloved. 

He didn’t care if whispers of your status or his incredible defiance towards the elders would reach his ears; all Sylus could think about now was savoring this priceless reward he fought hard to obtain.

Bringing you back to his yurt, Sylus let the flap fall close behind him, a clear signal to the rest of the tribe that he intended to enjoy his winnings in peace.

Your back met the soft pillows and rugs, his broad build blocking out the rafters letting in warm morning sunlight; lost in the depths of his jewel-tone eyes.

They shone like precious rubies, far more valuable to you than any material item in this world. 

The feel of your palm stroking his cheek, your fingers playing in his hair, suddenly made his stomach twist into hard knots. They were impossible to unravel, a bowline loop which went on for eternity.

His breathing turned ragged, gaze going soft as he looked at you—really took you in.

The sight of his beloved—his bride—right here in his home, about to be taken and claimed by him, set his nerves ablaze more than any war cry ever could. 

Sylus moaned unabashedly when you tangled your fingers in his hair, bold enough away from the prying eyes of others to fall prey to the undeniable attraction you’ve felt for him since the first time you saw each other.

He lets you bring him in for a kiss, your lips sweeter than wildberry dew.

“Sylus…”

The possessive need to claim you flared in him when you called out his name.

Smoldering attraction turned into a wild, untameable blaze, threatening to consume him whole. 

Due to his rugged nature, he never had a woman this close to him, her touch a balm to his rough edges.

In your arms, Sylus was more than the fearsome tribal chieftain whose name could strike fear in any man’s heart. 

He was wont to your desires, an instrument of your love.

“Please,” you licked your lips, and his eyes followed the gesture with a blatant look of desire. “Kiss me.”

You didn’t have to ask him twice. Sylus captured your lips in a deep and passionate kiss, swallowing your moans whole.

Your tinier fingers in his hair tightened, bringing his body closer onto yours. He fought back a shiver from the force of his desires as his body covered yours completely, trapping you beneath him under his weight.

“My love, you are playing a dangerous game,” he growled, adoring how fragile and small you felt under his hulking mass.

Dragging your hands down the slope of his shoulders, you felt his muscles rippling under your touch; his broad frame and the layers of sinew forming his brawny build leaving you lightheaded.

“Oh, my love. The sight of you underneath me, looking so vulnerable and lovely,” his voice dipped lower, a hoarse edge taking over it. “... it’s driving me wild.”

Shying away from such a bold declaration, you bit your lower lip. “Sylus, will it hurt?”

Sensing you were speaking about the act of copulating, he took your hand, rubbing circles on your palm. 

“A little, but it is nothing you cannot handle. Besides, I will be with you through it all—I will not hurt you, my love.”

The idea of a ruthless tribal leader like him, promising some young slave girl that he would be gentle with her, was so far-fetched from your idea of what a conqueror was that you began to relax in his presence.

You trusted Sylus because he has proven time and time again how your comfort and safety were his priorities.

Especially when he was this close to claiming you.

Steady yet hasty hands slowly unraveled the lapels of your thick coat, his breaths tumbling out in silent huffs. Sylus’s large palms were warm—far too warm on your chilly body.

The great chieftain was a silent, nervous wreck when he glanced down at his beloved, watching her with soft eyes and reaching out to her with an even softer touch. 

“Sylus… please.” 

The cadence of his name on your tongue will never not be the sweetest thing he's heard in his life. 

You returned the gesture, removing his leather gauntlets, slowly stripping him off his warrior bravado to reveal the sweet and gentle man underneath.

“Please, what?” He whispered against your throat. Outside, the cool breeze rattled the rafters, but inside his yurt and in his arms, you were warmer than a butterfly in spring. 

You seized, back arching when he kissed a tender path from your neck to your bare chest. 

The sight of your hardened nipples and smooth curves whipped through him like a frenzy, and Sylus grew impossibly hard at the image of your sweet body, swollen with child.

His child.

The fantasies of your breasts filling up with milk, the slope of your belly gently curving with the promise of his heir… 

 His thin patience was hanging by a thread.

Sylus shrugged off his sheepskin pants, tossing it to the side of the yurt as he quickly worked on the lapels and hooks of your clothing. 

Once your smooth body was bare to him, Sylus’s gaze softened, his tone almost reverent when he said:

“You look beautiful, my beloved.”

You had not imagined your wedding night (or, in this case, morning) to be a tender affair.

Where every brutish belief you once held towards his people melted away with every tender touch of this gentle chieftain.

Sylus propped a pillow under your hips, careful to lean his full weight onto you. Your eyes fluttered shut, a moan seeping past your swollen lips when you felt his tongue glide across your breasts, taking his time to play with and suck on your nipples.

His mouth moved down your body, teasing you with whispery kisses.

Parting your thighs wide, you realized a second too late what he was doing until he slotted himself in between; mouth pressed to your pelvis.

“Sy—”

The protests fizzled out the second you felt his tongue parting through your folds, tasting the effect he had on you.

Low whimpers slipped past your mouth, your fingers tangling in his hair.

Sylus… mhmm… s-stop—

But, he didn't relent. He glanced up at your flushed face, shaking his head. 

You can take it, beloved. Can't you? For me?

It wasn't the reluctance that set you back but the shame of such an intimate experience.

You had never experienced a man this close to your sensitive parts; the idea of him in this position itself was too much to bear. You should be worshiping him, not the other way around.

But, Sylus refused to listen to your pleas and moans—hellbent on pleasuring you.

His tongue traced patterns on your clit, drawing out more of your high-pitched whines. There was little doubt whoever passed by the yurts could hear your pleasured sighs. 

Sylus couldn't care less.

He wanted the whole tribe to know you were his;  that he had chosen you and you had chosen him.

His tongue delved deeper into your core, tasting your excitement. Some of it stained onto his face, his chin drenched with your juices.

Your hips rocked to the rhythm his tongue set, your moans reaching fever pitch.

Good girl. That's it. Show me how much you want it.

Sylus murmured, working you through your cresting pleasure.

It came like a rising high within you, soaring higher than any eagle could as you crashed to the ground, screaming his name.

Sylus tightened his grip on your thighs, doubling down on his efforts. Your mess stained his cheeks, his chin, driving his desire to a burning point.

He worked his way up your body, leaving kisses on every inch of skin his mouth could reach.

Finally reaching your lips, Sylus poured every bit of his devotion for you into this heated kiss, swallowing your moans and letting you taste him on his tongue. Strings of saliva connected your lower lip to his, hanging by a tenuous thread.

The heat of your cheeks would have burned you alive, the tension between your bodies rising to a feverish pitch.

Tenderly, he nudged your thighs to wrap around his defined waist, opening you to be taken by him.

The first stretch was accompanied by his lips on yours, coaxing you to relax and open up to him.

That is it… good girl… taking me so well…

The deeper he sank in, the more loud he was with his praise.

I adore you… you sinful, sweet girl… take me… take me good… 

Sylus!

Your cries reverberated across the sheepskin walls. It felt like drowning, your body sinking deeper into the plush woolen pillows.

Oh, oh… oh, right there…

He licked into the heat of your mouth, tracing the ridges of your teeth. 

There? Does it hurt? Do I make you ache?

Yes, you responded deliriously. Yes, yes and yes.

It was the kind of pain you could never forget, yet you desired it all the same. A masochistic plea of your body to be devoured and conquered.

Sylus raised himself up on his forearms, the bulging, rock hard muscles rippling with every exertion; his thrusts almost knocking you backwards if it weren't for his tight grip on your hips.

Every collision of his cock against a spot deep inside of you made your toes curl; leading you closer towards your desperate end.

Sylus—can't… close… 

It felt like a ball of tension growing bigger and tighter, growing uncontrollably hotter with every thrust, every heated whisper of his praise against your ear.

Sylus nipped your jaw, tracing his tongue against the curve of your lower lip.

His gentle insistence, coupled with his brutal thrusts made your body run hot and cold.

Goosebumps erupted across your skin. You were growing dizzier and hotter.

You gasp—fuck, fuck, this is too much—and he tells you just take it, darling.

Take it for me.

He nipped Your earlobe, pushing deeper against your body. 

Does it feel good? Are you close? 

Squeezing your eyes closed, you nodded.

Yes, Sylus… almost… 

Good, he traced his tongue across the heated Seam of your mouth.

Give it to me, darling. Let go for me.

One request. You gave into him.

“Yes, yes,” you shuddered, digging your heels into his lower back. 

Sylus groaned, expressions contorting into painful bliss when your walls contracted around him.

He worked you through them, letting you stab your nails into his broad back.

That's it, darling. Give it to me. Come undone for your husband. 

Husband. 

Husband. 

The word sent an unrestrained quake straight through your soul.

Yet, the reality was far sweeter.

Sylus slumped on top of you, spent after releasing ropes of warmth deep inside your quivering cunt.

Languidly, he rolled you onto his chest, skin pressed to warm skin. You were spent, soaked and still wrapped around him.

The act of consummation was over. You finally belonged to him.

And for the test of his days, Sylus would make sure to show you how much you mean to him; going above and beyond to declare his love. 

“I love you,” he slurred into the heat of your throat. “Always have. And from the very beginning.” 

You nestled closer into his side, feeling safe in the warmth of his arms, finally allowing yourself to embrace the reality of this powerful man’s infatuation with you. 

Amidst the vast and intimidating grasslands, you had ensured your survival as the feared chieftain's wife, with Sylus unwaveringly by your side.

© all works belong to lalunanymph. do not copy, repost on other websites and claim as your own. do not feed my content to AI.

[hhoonii]

⋅˚₊‧ ଳ WHEN + WHY ENHYPEN STARTED LIKING THEIR IDOL! S/O

pairing: idol!enhypen x fem idol!reader, genre: fluff, requested!! enha realizing they're down bad

— heeseung

when he saw you perform

he was absolutely stunned by your stage presence. you carried yourself with so much confidence that it was hard to not notice you. the way your hair swayed in the air whenever you moved and the way your lips curved into a smile did things to him more than he liked to admit. after finding out your name, he was guilty of looking you up on google and stalking your instagram. the members would hear him giggling, and they would instantly know it was because he was watching videos of you.

— jay

when both of you appeared on a variety show together

it just so happened that you two had to be paired up for the whole episode. literally. connected by a bracelet, you had to walk, eat, do missions— everything together. he didn’t think much about it at first, but he found himself smiling when he saw you skip so excitedly, dragging him with you. and when you wiped the bit of pasta sauce off his lips, his heart started beating a little faster. your chemistry with him was off the charts, and all he wished was for your on-screen romance to become a reality.

— jake

when you filmed a tiktok together

he thought you were cute trying to learn the choreo for “XO”. you couldn’t quite get the hand movements right, prompting him to gently touch and guide your hands. maybe it was the close proximity, the warmth of your hands, or the way your eyes met, but there was this unexplainable tension that filled the room. he quickly looked away, hoping you didn’t see the creeping blush on his face. although the filming went smoothly, he kept replaying those moments with you in his head.

— sunghoon

when both of you were special mcs

seeing how pretty you are up close made something spark in his heart. he kept stealing glances at you while you were practicing your lines. he chuckled at the slight pout you would make when you made a mistake, which you playfully glared at him for. the first thing he did after the show was look on social media to see if fans captured any cute moments between you two. normally idols want to avoid being shipped with other idols, but the idea didn't sound too bad to him if it was with you.

— sunoo

when he saw you with another male idol

you two have been close friends since childhood. your friendship was well known in the industry, and strictly platonic. it wasn’t until he saw you talking and laughing with another male idol that he started to feel a little jealous. that guy didn’t know what makes you laugh most, nor your deepest secrets like he did. and why was he leaning so close to you? he wanted to brush his feelings aside, but imagining you with someone else didn’t sit right with him...

— jungwon

when he saw you practicing

back in his pre-debut days, you were his sworn enemy. you two competed for the top trainee spot, always trying to one up each other. after both of you debuted, one day he peered into your practice room window, but something felt wrong. watching you as an idol made him suddenly see you in a different light. your messy hair no longer looked stupid, but rather hot. your annoying voice was now something that made him feel giddy just hearing it. he could deny it as much as he wanted to, but the heart never lies.

— ni-ki

when you did a collab stage together

he was already aware you were one of the best dancers in the idol industry, so he looked forward to working with you. but what impressed him was how you were so kind to him, always looking after him and complimenting him. he remained calm up until the choreography that required your faces to be mere centimeters apart. you had to be in his arms, maintaining eye contact, but he couldn’t look at you without internally panicking. you were attractive, and he wondered how one could be so perfect inside and out.

[escelia]

New Sibling Just Dropped

Or Danny gets willingly isekai'd into the DCU and gets a twin out of it.

I know I disappeared from the face of the earth for a bit there, and there's stuff I should probably be updating, but I come baring different stuff this time :D

Just started this for fun, and I have at least one other chapter of it done, but idk how long this bout of inspiration will last, so I'm just rolling with it for now.

@flamingpudding look! i pulled a jason todd and rose from the grave!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Danny was tired. The kind of tired you felt behind your eyes and in your bones, and weighed heavy with achievement. He was perched on the edge of a building in his ghost form looking over Amity Park with a soft smile as he watched Youngblood run through the park with human children, Cujo playfully on their heels. His galaxy cloak (which had been a coronation gift) billowed around his lap like a gas with stars twinkling inside. 

It had been a few years now since he took up the Crown of Fire and became High King of the Infinite Realms, and while he had accomplished many things since then, graduating from high school wasn't something on that list. It sucked that he wouldn't get to walk across the stage with Sam and Tucker, but in the face of all he'd been able to do for both Amity and the Infinite Realms, it was worth it. They coexisted now. There was still trouble every now and then, but Danny had helped the ghosts who insisted on staying in Amity Park find a place in their city where they could thrive.

Youngblood watched over the children of the city, Box Ghost started a box recycling center, Lunch Lady started a program to get food to families that couldn't afford it, and Pointdexter started reporting bullying at the school since he was already there. 

On the Realms' side, Danny shut down Walker's prison. Since it was his lair, he couldn't take it away from him completely, but it no longer housed the many ghosts the warden had considered "rule breakers." He'd given Walker a new set of rules to enforce and essentially took him under his wing as a royal soldier, kept under the close watch of Fight Knight, who'd defected from Pariah Dark so fast after his defeat that it was laughable. 

He'd done something similar with Skulker, though he was a harder case to crack. Unlike Walker, who was happy as long as he had a set of rules to enforce, Skulker wanted to keep hunting. He'd been recruited forcefully by Walker and Fright Knight after they caught him on his way to fight Danny again.

All in all, everything had begun to run smoothly now. The fatigue weighing on him reminded him that it had been hard to accomplish, and continuing to lead his double life hadn't made it any less exhausting. A cold breath rushed through his chest as he felt a familiar presence slide up next to him. 

"You didn't time out," Danny pointed out without looking to face the ghost beside him. Clockwork hummed in acknowledgment.

"Sometimes it's pleasant to watch time flow in person." It was Danny's turn to hum at him. 

"How are you feeling?" The Ancient asked thoughtfully. The younger ghost tilted his head pensively. 

"It's hard to say. I'm tired, but I'm happy. And also sad..." he paused to gather his thoughts. "I feel like I've done everything I needed to."

But not everything he wanted to do. 

"Go on," Clockwork pressed. The teenager did turn his head now to make a face at his mentor. If the guy knew how he felt and what he was going to say, why would he say it out loud? But the other just arched a brow at him and waited.

"Fine," he pouted. "I've spent so much time and energy finding places for everyone here. The GIW are gone, my parents stopped hunting ghosts, Jazz got into the psychology program at Stanford, Sam and Tucker are graduating today... I helped make that happen, I know I did! But they're moving on without me. They're growing up and I don't feel like I am."  

'I don't feel like I'm ready.'

Danny stopped to take a breath and wipe away the icy tears gathering in his eyes. He felt stupid for crying over it. He was 17 for Ancients' sake! Jazz would have told him he grew up too fast, but he still felt like a child. He had no idea what he was doing! And yet! And yet... he felt...

"But you also feel ancient, right? Like you've been around too long and seen too much?" Clockwork said as though he were reading from a script. Danny sulked. Stupid time ghost with his dumb Time Stream TV or whatever. 

"Yeah..."

"All Ancients feel that way. Though you may be feeling unbalanced in more ways than one because of how young you died and the fact you are half human."

"What do you mean?" Danny turned his whole body to face him now, tucking his knees under his chin and circling his arms around them. His cloak moved with him in inky black wisps and settled around him again like clouds of galaxies. 

Clockworks form shifted to that of a child.

"You feel young because you died young. However, it is the nature of humans to grow and change. While you may have died at 14, your childhood died before that. You yearn to grow and learn, while also being an incredibly powerful Ancient."

He supposed that made sense. He recalled all the years cleaning the lab before the portal had even been built, and the fighting and neglect (Jazz's words, not his) that spawned his disdain of Christmas even longer before. He wanted to go back to school. He wanted a reason to love Christmas. He wanted pets and family dinners that didn't come alive. He wanted to grow up properly.

"But you still want to help people," the ghost said as though Danny had been talking out loud or having his mind read. 

"I hate it when you do that," Danny complained. Clockwork just smiled smugly.

"I know." He laughed at the glare Danny threw him. 

"I have a proposition for you," the older ghost began. Danny perked up in intrigue. "I know of another earth dimension with some problems that need to be addressed. Your role as High King puts you in a position to be helpful."

"Their problem has to do with the Realms?"

"In a manner of speaking, yes. Ectoplasm from the Realms is pooling into what are referred to on their planet as Lazarus Pits. They are both helpful and harmful as they do not dissipate into the air so they continually collect and concentrate emotion, but they do sometimes revive the dead."

Danny grimaced in disgust at the thought of dunking a person into a stagnant pool of contaminated ectoplasm. "That sounds disgusting."

"Quite," Clockwork agreed. 

"So what's your proposition?"

"Well, if it is agreeable to you, I would like to de-age your physical form and place you with a family that's had dealings with the Pits firsthand. I've found them to be quite charming." 

"Ah, so you want me to go in undercover?" Danny couldn't help but roll his eyes a little. It wasn't a half bad idea. He could try his hand at childhood again and still get to handle his duties as King Phantom. Leading a double life again would be easy enough, it was just stepping from one role into another. 

"Not at all." Clockwork smiled knowingly. Danny was officially suspicious of his ghost guardian. "This planet has had all kinds of dealings with the occult, and even humans with superpowers isn't that unusual. While I would advise against telling anyone you are a king right away, you are in fact just that: a king. You may do what you wish." 

For an ancient and wise time ghost, Danny thought Clockwork was really shit at hiding his expressions. Though he tried to keep the grin off his face, Danny could clearly see the twitching of his lips and gleam in his eyes that promised the old man was scheming. 

But to get his childhood back. Or, at least a semblance of one... it deserved consideration. Danny looked back out at the cityscape again. Sam and Tucker... they were down there graduating from high school without him. He'd been the one to encourage them to pull away from Team Phantom activities to zero in on their studies, but he didn't regret it. Sam wanted to major in environmental science and Tucker wanted to go to MIT and he just didn't fit into those plans. After Jazz left for Stanford, his parents often forgot he was still there. He'd managed to convince them to study ghosts properly instead of hunting them, and with a little help from the "friendly ghost King Phantom" they were given a place to start. They dove into their research with the same excitement and fervor they'd had all their lives. Which of course meant he went days, sometimes weeks, without seeing them emerge from the lab. It was easy enough to slip past them to the portal while they were distracted. 

The point was that he'd started to feel his anchor to this city, to this realm, start to dissipate as the people who kept him there started to break away from him. He still loved them, wanted to protect them, but they were safe and happy now. He felt fulfilled in his task of protecting them, but there was a buzzing beneath his skin to do more. 

Danny took a deep and controlled breath. He didn't need it in his ghost form, but it felt good to feel his lungs stretch to fullness. 

"When would I start?" He asked finally. The straight face Clockwork had been trying to keep, and he really was so bad at it, finally broke into a wide grin. 

"Right now. Everything is already in place and your duties in the Realms will be taken care of in your absence." 

Danny smiled softly at his guardian. Clockwork sure had a funny way of showing it, but he cared so deeply for the boy next to him that when Danny responded with a bad pun, he couldn't even be annoyed. 

"Well, no time like the present!" He winked.

Clockwork chuckled, and with a flash of light, he sent Danny on his way. 

The more time the older ghost spent with his young ward, the more he appreciated him. The Danny he’d come to know was nothing like the Danny’s from other worlds he’d encountered while trying to prevent Dan from existing. His Danny was now truly one of a kind. None of the others, not even the ones that eventually turned into Dan, had been Ancients. There would never be another Danny like him, and every universe was adjusting to include him should he ever decide to visit them. He had a place in any world, should he choose, but Clockwork knew he was needed most in the one he’d sent him to. It would be truly entertaining to watch the young Ancient settle into his role there, and Clockwork was actually finding himself looking forward to it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was dark and quiet a long while before Danny opened his eyes. And when he did open them it got really loud and really bright really fast. It belatedly occurred to him that he should have asked like a billion more questions before agreeing to be iseaki’d into a different dimension to join a family he knew literally nothing about. 

There was shouting before someone in what looked like a ninja cult uniform shoved a knife into his hand and pushed him in the path of a person in a different uniform. The man in front of him was dressed in blue and black and wearing a mask that covered his eyes, but Danny could see the surprised shape of his mouth before it morphed into something like anger. And then he was being lunged at.

He shrieked as he dodged out of the way. Not his most graceful save, but whatever. His voice was a bit shrill and his center of gravity felt way off. He must have actually been de-aged! He wondered how old he was now. He still felt light on his feet thanks to his ghost half which felt blessedly intact. But the other guy was fast and he ducked into a roll just in time to dodge whatever weapon he was holding. This guy meant business, but he had no idea why he was trying to kill him. 

‘Great, thanks Grandfather Clock for throwing me right back into the good ol’ days,’ he thought sarcastically. Nobody had attacked him for no good reason like that since Walker and Fright caught Skulker mid hunt for the very last time. 

What he now saw was a baton swung down from overhead and Danny knew he wouldn't dodge it in time, so he caught it with the flat of the blade that had been shoved into his hands.

“Wait! Why are we fighting?” Danny yelled, panicked as the guy pushed more force into it. The man's face twisted into something like confusion for a moment and he backed off just the tiniest bit before the scuffing of shoes to his right had him looking over just in time to see another guy in a mask, this time in red, rushing at him. He threw his hands up in surrender. 

“Wait!” He shrieked before he was absolutely bodied sideways into the ground. 

Why was he doing this? He was half ghost, he could have just gone intangible and disappeared. He didn't have to be body slammed into the ground. Wasn't he a child now? Did that guy in red actually just slam a whole child into the ground? 

“Red, hold on! This one's different!” 

“What do you mean?” The guy Red asked. He was still pinning Danny to the ground.

“Yeah, what do you mean?” Danny asked breathlessly, then whimpered, “Someone please tell me what's going on!” 

The one hovering over him must have seen something on his face that convinced him to not try and kill him anymore, because he grabbed him by the collar and started dragging him along. 

“We'll take him in for questioning. Don't let Robin see him.”

“Who's Robin?!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It had been a long, arduous, and confusing journey from wherever they were to… well, wherever they were now. They'd blindfolded him for the transport so he still had no idea what was going on. He had learned that the guy with batons was Nightwing, and Red was actually Red Robin. The one they called Robin was a feral looking thing with swords, he was very small and stabby. Then there was Batman, and he totally threw off the whole bird theme but was easily the most intimidating. And that was all he knew so far. He'd been restrained at an interrogation table. 

Danny groaned and knocked his forehead onto the table. He really, really wished he'd asked Clockwork more questions. He'd at least been able to catch a glimpse of himself in the glass behind Batman. He looked like he was eleven or twelve again, which was not as young as he'd been expecting, but much more preferable than being a literal toddler. The group of people he’d been brought in by seemed to be heroes. They were all incredibly weary of him, but hadn’t gone out of their way to harm him since his capture. Though it was hard to call it a capture when there wasn’t a chase involved. 

“How old are you?” Batman asked suddenly. His voice was low and rough and somehow Danny could tell it didn't sound like that naturally. 

“Um, maybe eleven or twelve?” Danny replied carefully, picking up his head from the table and having the decency to look a little embarrassed. 

“And what's your name?” He looked like he was expecting something.

“My name is Danny, sir.” 

“Hmm…” 

It was quiet and awkward for a long moment.

“Why are you different from the other clones?” 

“Yeeeaaah, I'm not a clone.” Danny absolutely did not jump when the brute slammed the file folder shut in front of him. 

“We'll see what your DNA results have to say about that,” he said confidently before turning to leave, his cape dramatically flaring out behind him.

Sheesh, and he thought he’d had a flair for the dramatics.

‘Okay, time for some assessment,’ Danny thought to himself as he looked around the small closed room. It was soundproofed incredibly well. While he didn’t have super crazy hearing, it was enhanced by his ghost half, and combined with his other sharp senses, it tended to help him gather more information than others could. The most he could hear outside the room was a quiet hum of activity and nothing discernible. Still, he needed to decide how much he would say to these people. How much truth did he want to weave into his tale? These people clearly already had their own assumptions about him in mind, and while there was absolutely nothing wrong with being a clone, he knew he didn’t have what it took to keep up an act like that for long, which would just end up being awkward for everyone. 

He also would not be telling them about his status as Ghost King, per Clockwork’s suggestion. His captors seemed like the uptight sort, and revealing that he was a big, scary ghost monarch didn’t seem like it’d go over well. Telling them he was a halfa would probably get them off his back over the clone thing, at least. He went over the list in his head.

He was a halfa from another dimension, so he couldn’t be a clone.

He had no plans of fighting with anyone unless absolutely necessary. 

He did not have a way back to his other dimension. 

His name was Danny, and he didn’t have a family anymore.

He did not know why he was in the middle of whatever fight he woke up in. 

No, he didn’t know those people.

Danny must’ve been lost in thought for quite a while because his thoughts were interrupted by Batman bursting back through the door. The man’s demeanor had changed completely and he whipped off his cowl to reveal disheveled dark hair, blue eyes, and an expression of absolute heartbreak that accompanied his shuddering breaths. With the mask off, he reminded Danny a lot of his father. 

Batman searched his face and, much like Red Robin had before, seemed to notice something there. 

“She did it twice,” he muttered to himself. “Two of them this whole time and she didn’t tell me about either of them,” he said through gritted teeth. His frown deepened. Danny copied his frown. 

“Hey, are you okay?”

He still had no idea what was going on.

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[brunchable]

The Marriage Bet - Part Two

Pairings: Husband!Bucky Barnes x Pregnant f!Reader

Themes/Warnings: Y/N in labor. Childbirth but NOT detailed, more focused on Bucky's presence and what he's doing.

Summary: How has a small bet lead to this? Y/N goes into labor and Bucky does everything he can to be as supportive as he could.

A/N: For those who asked for Part Two, this is for you ^_^ I hope it lived up to the expectations. . . I took inspiration from my own experience so yeah.

taggies: @rcarbo1 @ozwriterchick @mrsnikstan @winterslove1917 @hzdhrtss

You roll your eyes as Bucky keeps a skeptical gaze on you, watching you step up and down on the curb for what feels like the hundredth time.

“Doll, you’ve been at this for days. I’m starting to think this kid’s staging a sit-in,” he teases, leaning against the lamppost, arms crossed.

“Well, she’s not paying rent, so she doesn’t get to stay. Curb walking is happening whether she likes it or not,” you snap back, determination lacing your tone as you continue stepping. But deep down, you’re tired, exhausted from trying to nudge your body into labor.

Bucky grins, but he still offers you a hand as you make your way back toward the house. “I’m just saying, if I see you out here tomorrow morning, I’m calling the National Guard.”

You elbow him lightly. “Very funny, Buck. This baby’s coming today. I can feel it.”

When you both step inside the house, Alpine is on you immediately, practically glued to your legs, rubbing her soft, fluffy body against your ankles more persistently than usual. You frown, looking down at her.

“What’s with you today, girl?” you ask, gently shooing her away with your foot. But instead of backing off like she normally does, Alpine meows loudly and circles you again, her tail brushing against your legs.

“Hey, come on. What’s going on with you?” you murmur, reaching down to pet her. But Alpine’s not interested in affection—at least, not her usual kind. She rubs harder against you, weaving in and out between your legs, forcing you to shuffle to avoid tripping.

“Bucky, I think Alpine’s lost it,” you call out, trying to step away from her. But she follows, her constant meowing beginning to sound like scolding. You can’t help but feel like she’s trying to tell you something.

Bucky, in the kitchen, is half-hidden in the fridge, rummaging around for something. “Maybe she’s just mad you’re about to replace her as the center of attention,” he quips, not looking up from his snack hunt.

“Yeah, well, she can wait her turn,” you mutter, trying to step around Alpine. But the cat is relentless. She rubs against your legs even harder, circling you tighter, her meows getting louder. You try to move, but she darts in front of you, making you stumble.

“Seriously, Alpine, what is going on?” you huff, trying to sidestep her again, but it’s no use. She’s practically glued to you, brushing her entire body against you, her eyes wide and focused as she continues her odd dance around your feet. You glance at Bucky, now distracted by Alpine’s odd behavior.

Bucky looks up, finally noticing how insistent the cat is. “You think she knows something we don’t?” he asks, his tone shifting from playful to curious. “Animals have instincts about this kind of stuff, right?”

Before you can respond, Alpine meows again, louder this time, and you feel a sudden, sharp tightening in your belly. You stop in your tracks, your hands immediately going to your abdomen as the pain intensifies.

“Ooo, ow!” you gasp, bending over slightly as the contraction tightens your entire stomach. “Bucky!”

Bucky’s head shoots up from the fridge like a missile, his eyes wide. “What?! What happened? Are you okay?!” he blurts, slamming the fridge door shut. He’s by your side in seconds, almost slipping in his haste. “Is it time? It’s time, isn’t it?! Oh god, okay, okay, breathe. Just breathe.”

You clutch the edge of the counter, nodding through the pain. “I think… I think it’s happening.”

Alpine, still rubbing against you, lets out another loud meow, as if confirming your suspicion. You glance down at her, and for a moment, it’s as if the cat knows exactly what’s going on. She gives a final rub against your legs before darting out of the way, clearing the space for Bucky to swoop in.

Bucky’s eyes go even wider. 

“Okay, okay, uh—hospital. We need to call the hospital.” He pulls out his phone, hands trembling slightly as he fumbles with the screen. He stabs at the screen with his thumb, almost dropping it in the process. “Where’s the number? Why don’t I have the number saved?!” he mutters to himself, glancing at you for reassurance as the line finally connects.

He paces as he talks to the hospital, his free hand anxiously running through his hair. “Yeah, hi, it’s… Y/N? Y/N Barnes? um, it’s happening. She’s in labor. What do we—what do I do? No, we’re at home, but we’re coming in—should we come in now? Or…? Okay. Okay, got it, yeah, we’ll head there in… five minutes? Yeah, five. Thanks.”

He hangs up, looking like he’s just run a marathon. “They said we can wait a bit until it gets stronger, but we can go now if you want. What do you wanna do?”

Before you can answer, another wave of pain washes over you, and you double over again, gripping the counter tighter. Alpine meows and brushes against your legs again as if trying to comfort you, her tail swishing with determination.

Bucky glances at Alpine, then back at you. 

“Okay, bath! I’ll run you a warm bath. That’s what they said, right? Warm bath to relax? Just—stay right here, doll. I’ll handle this.” He bolts off toward the bathroom, slipping slightly but catching himself at the last second.

You hear him turning on the water, his voice slightly frantic. “Warm bath, warm bath. I can do this. Where are the towels? Of course, we have towels. Focus, Bucky. Towels, water, perfect.”

You chuckle softly, despite the growing discomfort, glancing down at Alpine, who is now sitting by your feet, watching you intently with those big, bright eyes. 

“You knew, didn’t you?” you mutter, reaching down to scratch behind her ears. She purrs loudly, as if proud of herself.

A moment later, Bucky’s back, nearly tripping over Alpine as he rushes to your side. “Okay, bath’s ready. Nice and warm. Let’s get you in there before another one hits,” he says, gently taking your arm and guiding you toward the bathroom.

Alpine follows behind, meowing in approval as Bucky helps you into the tub. The warm water does wonders to ease the tension, but the contractions are still coming, and you know it won’t be long.

Bucky kneels beside the tub, his eyes wide with a mix of excitement and panic. “You okay? Should I call someone? Maybe I should recheck the bags. Oh, and snacks—I need to grab snacks.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “You and your snacks, Bucky. We’ll be fine.”

Alpine, still close by, gives one final approving meow before curling up on the bathroom mat, keeping a watchful eye on both of you.

× × × × 

The car ride to the hospital was a blur—Bucky, in full mission mode, had one hand on the wheel and the other gripping yours as you breathed through each contraction. Every time you winced, his brow furrowed deeper, a mix of panic and determination on his face. Even as you swatted him away, insisting you didn’t need him hovering, he stayed glued to your side.

By the time you arrived at the hospital, Bucky had already called ahead, barking orders like he was leading a rescue mission. He parked the car, rushed around to your side, and had you in his arms before you could argue. 

“No hero moves, Buck, I can walk,” you huffed, trying to push through another contraction, but Bucky wasn’t hearing any of it.

“Not a chance. Just let me handle this, doll. I got you,” he said softly, the tenderness in his voice cutting through the pain.

Inside the hospital, Bucky was glued to you—holding your hand, rubbing your back, scratching your head soothingly, offering water. Every contraction, every wince, he was there, wide-eyed, on alert. He spoke to the doctors, double-checked every word they said, like he was memorising their instructions for later. He wouldn’t even blink unless he was sure you were okay.

“Bucky, I’m fine. You need to relax,” you grumbled between deep breaths, squeezing his hand through another wave of pain.

“I’m relaxed! This is me, relaxed!” he responded, his voice a little too high to be convincing. He had one hand on your back, rubbing gentle circles as if he could somehow ease the pain just by being there.

When another particularly strong contraction hit, making you groan in agony, Bucky’s face crumpled. He looked like he was ready to jump in and fight the pain for you only if he could. 

"You're sure you don't want the epidural?" he asked, glancing at you as another contraction hit, his face creased with concern. You could see the tension in his jaw, his helplessness in not being able to take the pain from you. “I just… I hate seeing you like this.”

“No. I am doing this my way, okay?!” You shook your head, gripping his hand as the pain intensified, your voice coming out in a growl. 

He let out a shaky laugh. "Okay, no epidural. Got it. But if you change your mind, I can threaten someone. I can be very convincing."

Despite the pain, you couldn’t help but smile through gritted teeth. “Pretty sure the nurses don’t need to see the Winter Soldier just because I’m in labor.”

Bucky chuckled, brushing a strand of hair from your sweaty forehead. “Oh, come on. It’d make for a great story. I could throw my arm around, scare a few people… you know, just your typical Tuesday.”

Hours passed, and Bucky hadn’t moved from your side. He wouldn’t sit, wouldn’t close his eyes, despite you insisting—between contractions—that he at least take a nap. 

“You’re gonna fall over if you don’t get some rest,” you grumbled, squeezing his hand through another wave.

“Fall over? Pfft, I don’t need sleep. I’m like a machine.” He smiled, though his eyes were red-rimmed with exhaustion. But every time you winced, his whole body tensed, as if he could feel the pain with you. “You, on the other hand, are doing amazing. I mean, you’re practically doing this like a walk in the park. The park of… childbirth.”

You let out a half-laugh, half-groan, resting your head back against the pillow. “That was terrible, Buck.”

He smiled wider. 

“Was it? C’mon, don’t lie to me. You were laughing inside.” He leaned down, brushing a gentle kiss against your temple. “I’m not leaving you.”

He looks at you with such fierce determination that you know there’s no convincing him otherwise. 

“Besides, I couldn’t sleep if I tried. What if you need something? Or what if you crack and ask for that epidural?” He smirks, trying to lighten the mood.

You roll your eyes at him, wincing as another contraction comes. Bucky’s immediately there, squeezing your hand, pressing his forehead to yours as you breathe together.

“I’m serious,” you mutter when the pain subsides, “you need sleep.”

Bucky grins, though his eyes are soft with affection. “Sleep? Who needs sleep? I’m living on love right now, doll. And adrenaline.” He winks at you, squeezing your hand a little tighter. “Who’s gonna be here to remind you how much of a badass you are?”

Despite the pain, you can’t help but laugh a little, which makes him smile even wider. He leans in, his lips brushing against your ear. 

“You know, this is probably a good time to tell you that you’re way stronger than me. I’d probably be begging for the epidural by now. And ice cream. Definitely ice cream.”

You snort, trying not to laugh too hard as another contraction builds. “Yeah, and I’d let you have the epidural just to shut you up.”

Bucky chuckles, but his smile fades as he watches you breathe through the pain again, his thumb stroking the back of your hand. 

He’s quiet for a moment, then softly whispers, “You’re incredible, you know that?”

You look up at him through heavy breaths, your heart swelling at the way he’s looking at you—like you’re the only person in the world. His thumb traces lazy circles on your hand, his eyes never leaving your face.

“You’re doing so good, doll. I’m so proud of you,” he says, his voice thick with emotion.

When the contraction finally passed, you slumped back, exhausted. Bucky’s fingers brushed a stray piece of hair from your forehead, his touch light as a feather. 

“You want some ice chips? You want me to grab the doc again? Steal you another pillow? You name it, babe, and I’ll make it happen.”

Another contraction hit, and you groaned in pain, squeezing his hand hard enough to make him wince. But instead of complaining, he leaned down close, brushing his thumb over your knuckles. 

“You know,” he whispered, his voice low and conspiratorial, “you’ve got the strength of ten supersoldiers right now. You could probably take me down with just one hand. Kinda sexy, don’t you think?”

You couldn’t help but snort through the pain, the corners of your mouth lifting despite the overwhelming sensation. “That’s… your idea of sexy?” you panted, trying to keep your breathing steady.

“Hey, I’ve always had a thing for strong women,” he teased, winking at you in that playful Bucky way, trying to distract you from the pain. “And you, sweetheart, are the strongest woman I know.”

Even though the pain was still there, the tension in your shoulders eased just a little.

“See, that’s what I’m here for,” he said softly, his thumb brushing the back of your hand as another contraction started building. “You focus on bringing our kid into the world, and I’ll keep trying to distract you with terrible jokes and my rugged good looks.”

“You’re lucky… I love you…” you muttered through the next wave of pain.

By the time the contractions were coming faster and more intense, Bucky was still right there, leaning close, murmuring encouragements. His fingers intertwined with yours, his other hand brushing through your hair as you worked through the pain. 

“You’re doing amazing, doll. We’re almost there. I’m right here.”

He didn’t sleep, didn’t sit, not even when you begged him to rest. His only focus was you, and every time your face twisted in pain, his own features mirrored it. But somehow, even in the toughest moments, he kept trying to make you smile, whispering about baby names, promising to make up for every second of pain with the biggest, most elaborate breakfast you could dream of. 

“We’ll get pancakes. Or waffles. Or pancakes and waffles. With ice cream. I’ll even eat kale if it’ll make you happy.”

When the doctor told you it was time, Bucky’s grip on your hand tightened, and for a moment, you expected to see that familiar flicker of panic in his eyes. But it never came. Somehow, in the face of what was about to happen, Bucky remained steady, his expression calm and resolute. He didn’t waver. His focus was entirely on you, his thumb brushing over your knuckles in slow, soothing strokes as you gathered the last of your strength.

The room bustled around you—nurses preparing, the doctor giving instructions—but it all seemed distant. The only thing grounding you was Bucky. His eyes never left yours, a silent strength radiating from him, as though he were willing to carry you through the final stretch. Every time the pressure built, every time the exhaustion weighed on you, Bucky was there, his presence unfazed, holding you steady as the moment grew closer.

Even as the intensity of labor reached its peak, he didn’t flinch. Not once. His grip remained firm but gentle, anchoring you in the chaos, his face composed, his breathing in sync with yours. He was there, unwavering, a rock against the storm. The room could’ve been crumbling around you, and Bucky wouldn’t have noticed.

His whole world was you.

Then, when the cry filled the room—the unmistakable sound of your baby’s first breath—it hit him like a tidal wave.

They placed her on your chest, and for a second, Bucky was still. He was looking at her—his daughter—for the very first time. His mouth opened slightly, and you saw his eyes widen in awe. His tough exterior began to crack, the strong front he had maintained throughout crumbling under the sheer weight of the moment.

Suddenly, Bucky turned away, almost abruptly, his shoulders shaking. He was crying. Ugly crying. His hand left yours for the first time as he tried to rub the tears away, his back to you as he choked on his emotions. But he wasn’t fooling anyone. You could hear the soft sniffles as he struggled to pull himself together.

It only lasted a moment before he spun back around, tears still streaming down his face, though he tried—so hard—to stop them. The sight of him, attempting to be tough through the tears, was endearing and, in its own way, a little bit funny. His face was red, his eyes puffy, and there was no mistaking the way his breath hitched as he looked at the baby resting on your chest.

He tried to smile through the sobs, wiping his face with the back of his hand, but every time he looked at her—tiny, perfect, and so much a part of both of you—the tears came again, harder this time. He was completely undone, staring at his daughter with a mixture of awe, joy, and disbelief, as if he couldn’t quite wrap his head around the fact that she was here, real, and his.

And though Bucky was crying harder than ever, it was the most beautiful thing you had ever seen. He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, his tears mingling with yours, both of you laughing at the raw, overwhelming sweetness of the moment.

He was a mess, but a happy mess—ugly crying through the most beautiful moment of your lives. And, despite it all, he never let go of your hand.

× × × × 

When you and Bucky finally stepped through the door of your home, the familiar scent of your place welcomed you back. It was strange being home with Julianna now, like the world had shifted but stayed the same. You glanced at Bucky, who was carrying the capsule carefully, his expression softer than usual.

Alpine was the first to greet you. As soon as the door opened, she trotted over, her tail swishing with curiosity. She stopped at your feet, looking up at both of you expectantly, as if asking, “So, what did you bring back?”

Bucky set the capsule down gently on the floor, his movements slow and careful.

“Look who’s here, Alpine,” he said, glancing down at the cat with a smile tugging at his lips. “We brought someone new.”

Alpine inched closer, her nose twitching as she inspected the carrier with cautious curiosity. Bucky crouched beside the capsule, lifting the cover slightly so the cat could get a closer look. Julianna stirred inside, her tiny face peaceful, nestled in blankets.

Alpine took a few tentative steps forward, her nose brushing against the edge of the blanket. She sniffed softly, clearly curious but cautious, still unsure about what exactly this new little human was.

Bucky smiled, watching Alpine for a moment before reaching down and gently lifting Julianna out of the capsule. He cradled her carefully in his arms, glancing at you for reassurance before holding her closer to Alpine.

“Come on, girl, get a good sniff. She’s your new sister.”

Alpine paused, her eyes wide as she leaned in to sniff Julianna’s soft, downy head. The cat's whiskers twitched, her nose brushing against the baby’s tiny forehead as she took in the new scent. Julianna stirred slightly, but her eyes stayed closed, her peaceful expression unchanged.

After a long, curious sniff, Alpine let out a soft, sweet meow as if giving her approval. Then, to your surprise, she rubbed herself affectionately against Bucky’s legs, purring gently, as if acknowledging that her place in the family was safe.

You watched the whole interaction, a warmth spreading through your chest. There was something sweetly funny about seeing this big, tough Bucky Barnes gingerly presenting his newborn daughter to a cat, as if it were some kind of sacred introduction.

Bucky chuckled, glancing down at Alpine as she rubbed against him again, her purring growing louder. “Looks like she approves of you too, kid,” he murmured to Julianna.

Satisfied with her inspection, Alpine backed up a few steps, her tail swishing lazily. She sat down nearby, watching with half-lidded eyes as if content that all was well in her world.

Bucky stood up carefully, cradling Julianna in his arms and grinning at you. “Looks like she passed the test,” he said, his voice soft, but with that usual Bucky charm. He glanced down at the baby, his eyes softening even more.

“Welcome home, Jules.”

× × × ×

Bonus scene: Flashback - A few months earlier…

You were lounging on the couch, feet propped up on Bucky’s lap as he absentmindedly massaged your ankles. A notebook was open on the coffee table in front of you, filled with scribbles of baby names. None of them felt right so far, and you were both at your wits’ end.

“Alright,” Bucky said, tapping his fingers on your leg, “we gotta figure this out. This kid’s gonna be here soon, and we can’t just call them ‘Hey, you.’” He gave you a crooked smile, but you could tell he was dead serious about the baby name situation.

You sighed, flipping through the pages of the notebook. “I know, but nothing seems to fit. We don’t even know if it’s a boy or a girl.”

Bucky looked up thoughtfully, then suddenly grinned. “How about... Buck Jr.?”

You stared at him for a solid second, deadpan. “Buck Jr.? Really? What if it’s a girl?”

He didn’t miss a beat. “Then... Buckletta.”

You burst out laughing, nearly kicking him in the stomach with the way your feet jerked. “Buckletta? Are you serious?”

Bucky shrugged with a smug grin. “Hey, it’s versatile. Buck Jr. for a boy, Buckletta for a girl. Easy.”

“I am not naming our child Buckletta!” you gasped, wiping tears from your eyes from laughing so hard. “That sounds like a medieval torture device.”

Bucky smirked, leaning back on the couch. “Fine, fine. What about something... strong? Like, you know, a name that’s got some weight to it.”

“Okay, hit me with it,” you said, folding your arms across your chest.

“Rock,” he said with confidence.

“Rock?” You blinked, wondering if he was messing with you, "Already with the Dad jokes?"

“Yeah! Think about it. No one’s gonna mess with a kid named Rock Barnes,” Bucky explained, grinning as if he had just come up with the best name in history. “It’s tough. It’s solid.”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “We are not naming our baby after an inanimate object!”

Bucky raised an eyebrow, feigning surprise. “Really? But you like Ruby.”

“Ruby’s a gemstone, Bucky. It’s different,” you argued, trying to hold back a laugh.

He finally laughed along with you, holding his hands up in surrender.

“Alright, alright! I'll stop. But we still need a real one, so...” He grabbed his phone back from you, scrolling through the list with a suspiciously mischievous look on his face. “Okay, let’s see... Princess Consuela Bananahammock?”

You smacked his arm, laughing again. “Are you picking names from Friends now?”

Shaking your head, you leaned over and grabbed the notebook, flipping to a clean page. “Okay, how about something more traditional? Like... Hazel for a girl?”

Bucky paused, his teasing smirk fading into something softer. “Hazel? I like that. It’s... nice.” He nodded thoughtfully, clearly warming to the idea.

“Yeah?” you smiled, glad that you’d finally stumbled onto something that wasn’t completely ridiculous.

“Yeah, Hazel’s good. But what about a boy’s name?” Bucky asked, shifting to a more serious tone.

You thought for a moment.

“What about James?” you suggested, giving him a knowing look.

He immediately shook his head. “No way. Too many bad memories tied to that name.”

You frowned, understanding. “Alright, then something classic but strong... like Julian?”

Bucky tilted his head, considering it. “Julian’s not bad. Strong, but not too over the top. I could see that.”

“And it works for a girl, too. Julianna,” you added with a smile.

Bucky’s face lit up. “Julianna Hazel Barnes.” He let the name roll off his tongue, testing it out. “That actually sounds really nice.”

You grinned, feeling like you were getting somewhere. “Right? It’s got a good flow.”

He nodded, then leaned back against the couch, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “But seriously, you’re sure we’re ruling out Buckletta?”

You threw a pillow at his head, laughing. “Absolutely. 100% no to Buckletta.”

Bucky caught the pillow and chuckled. “Okay, okay, no Buckletta. But just so you know, if we ever get another cat, I’m naming her Buckletta.”

[rueclfer]

everything is embarrassing // izuku midoriya

when he doesn't know how to take control of his life

a/n: 6k+ words lmao i feel crazzzzzy ok bye

19-year-old izuku doesn't have the privilege of hopping around college parties on the weekends or enjoy the “college experience” like his friends do.

he can barely catch a break to breathe.

monday through friday he's in classes from 8:00am to 4:00pm, and for more than half of the week from 6:00pm to 12:00am, he's working at the campus library- simultaneously shelving returns, organizing files, and scrambling to finish his homework. on the weekends, he'll be at his part time job at the local cafe just down the street from his dorm building.

it hasn't been an easy semester for izuku. he's a year behind his friends and he wants nothing more than to be able to walk across that stage with them by the end of their fourth year, but nothing comes easy when you’ve been out of school for a year, no money, have a scholarship on the line, and a single mother at home to make proud.

he's watching the time go by. his eyes darting back and forth between the ticking needle on the analog clock and you sitting at your usual table with your headphones on, attention glued to your textbook, and the tapping of your pencil growing louder by the second.

occasionally, he'd let himself clock out and lock up about 5-10 minutes early if there was no one lingering around on his floor, and all of the day's work had been completed. no one stays as late in the library as you do. it annoys him. 

5-10 minutes is crucial to izuku.

he could get a head-start on his commute back to his dorm. if he walks quickly enough, he'd be back before 12:15am, be ready for bed by 12:35am, and he'd be able to get at least 6 hours of sleep.

if he's lucky.

but you. you were always there until the very last minute- sometimes even past closing.

it's 12:05am. how could anyone be so careless to not keep an eye on the time? can’t you see that it’s only you two left on this floor? did you not hear the 10 minute closing warning on the intercom?

if he wasn't running on a couple hour of sleep, a poor excuse for dinner, and 6 hours worth of brain numbing work, he wouldn't have the nerves to approach you so casually. he'd be replaying what he wanted to say in his head, stumbling over his words, and hope you wouldn't take offense to it.

"the library's closed." he bluntly says, still maintaining a few feet of distance.

you don't hear him or notice his presence at all. you're lost in that textbook and your mind is fumbling through these terms and definitions staring back at you.

izuku blinks once. then twice.

"hey." he starts again, taking a step closer and setting a hand down on the table right above your textbook.

you look up and catch the library worker’s tired eyes. your gaze immediately flickers to the analog clock hung on the wall past his shoulder.

12:12am

“oh shit!” you exclaim, ripping off your headphones. “i’m sorry. i’m so sorry, i lost track of time.”

you slam your textbook shut, rubbing your eyes against the back of your hand. how long had you been at it like this? studying the hours away in your own corner of the library?

“yeah.” izuku breathily chuckles, a sense of relief washing over him as he watches you haphazardly shove your books and papers in your bag. “sorry, i hate to interrupt a good study session, but i’m kinda tired, and if i stay here for another minute, the shelves might start talking to me.”

“god, don’t be sorry. i get it.” you laugh, slinging your bag over your shoulder. “i’m here, like, everyday. i’m sure everyone who works here is sick of me by now.”.

“yeah, me too.” he sheepishly rubs the back of his neck as you two make your way towards the exit. “here everyday, that is.” he quips, nervously running a hand through his tousled hair.

“look at us, so scholarly.” your voice dripping in sarcasm. you turn your head over your shoulder to meet his eye. “paying so much money for this university to drain us of all joy in life.”

“well, i’m on a scholarship.” izuku mutters. “so i guess i still have some joy left?

“yeah? well that’s actually even worse.” 

“is it?” he cocks an eyebrow.

“you have much more to lose.”

-

the next time you two see each other, he’s knelt over an open filing cabinet, digging through dividers for some sort of paperwork. 

since that night you’ve met, university life has felt a bit less lonely- something about taking a 20 minute walk to your dorm buildings, which happens to be right next to each other, complaining about how terrible of time you’re having adjusting to university life really brings people together.

“hey.” you cough.

izuku looks up to see you sporting a coffee cup in each hand.

“oh. it’s you. hey.”

you hold one out to him, waiting for him to take it, but all he does is give you a blank stare as his eyes flicker between your own and the cup outreached towards him.

“take it.” you chuckle. “i brought it for you. you looked like shit last time i saw you, so...”

the corners of his mouth quirks up into a smile, gingerly accepting the hot cup of coffee.

“...so this is your apology for staying past closing the other night?” he teases.

“oh definitely not.” you scoff. “i’ll be doing it again tonight too, don’t you worry.”

he nods his head, taking a deep swig of the bittersweet coffee. “see you at midnight, then.”

“see you at midnight.” you confirm, sending him a smile as you pull your headphones over your ear and head towards the back of the library where your designated table was waiting for you.

-

at 21-years-old, izuku goes to his first house party. it takes you about a week to convince him to give you one of his saturday nights that he’d usually reserve for studying or catching up on sleep.

“please.” you beg once more. “what are you going to say to your future students? how are you going to say you had the college experience without going to a single party?”

“with a degree?” he chuckles, slinging a rag over his shoulder. “you’re also distracting me. i’m on the clock, and my boss can come back anytime, you know.”

“oh, please.” you roll your eyes. “if toshinori was here, he’d be telling you to put your big boy pants on and get drunk with his favorite customer tonight. and if you agreed the first time i asked, i wouldn’t have to follow you to your second place of employment.”

“i’m sorry, i can’t. maybe next time?”

“please, izuku, just one party. i’ll help you get ready after your shift. we’ll leave anytime you want, but i can guarantee you’ll have so much fun. i promise i’ll never ask you again if you really do end up hating it.”

he can imagine it now- if someone asked him about his college experience, he wouldn’t mention the parties, the professors, or the time spent away from home. he’d talk about you.

izuku has a hard time balancing his life between keeping up with the workload and trying to not let his days blend into a muddy gray, but you had perfectly fit somewhere in between all of the chaos like a fresh breath of air.

izuku was tired, and you were a shot of espresso. how can he say no to you?

“fine.” he sighs in defeat, sliding a cup of coffee across the counter towards you. “but i can’t be out that late, okay? i have to be back here in the morning.”

-

“what the fuck happened?” you slam the door shut behind you, muffling out chatter of the crowd and heavy bass shaking through the walls. 

you twist a wad of toilet paper into a cone before plugging the stream of blood gushing from his nose.

“sorry, sorry, sorry!” he repeats, holding the toilet paper in place with a bewildered look in his eyes. 

“i don’t know what happened,” he starts in a nasally tone “maybe it’s all the smoke in the air or something. i heard that second hand smoke can be really drying for your nasal passages, especially if there’s not a lot of ventilation like in this apartment, i also haven’t been drinking a lot of water today and-”

“aht!” you interrupt, nudging him over with your elbow to rinse your hands off from the bloody residue. “my theory is that your body is shutting down on itself from the lack of proper sleep and nutrition. thoughts?”

izuku pouts. “stop it. i had a protein shake before we came, remember?”

“of course, how could i forget about the most rancid concoction you managed to blend together?” you mutter, wetting a wad of toilet paper and dabbing away the dried blood that had fallen onto his chin and t-shirt.

he cocks an eyebrow at you, holding up the red solo cup containing a questionable blue liquid that you shoved in his hands to hold when his nose started dripping blood. 

“wow, since when were you a chem major? since you know so much about ‘rancid concoctions,’ huh?” he deadpans.

“izuku midoriya, are you getting sassy with me?” you scoff, grabbing the cup back from his hands.

“maybe i am.” he presses his lips together to suppress a smirk. “or maybe i’m just making an observation.”

izuku had finally started learning how to bite back. somewhere within the last year, the skittish library worker who you enjoyed pestering had grown the confidence to return your relentless teasing.

you weren’t sure how to take it- how giddy it made you feel and how much more of it you wanted to draw out of him.

to him, it was all a front. he perfected the line delivery with ease, but at the cost of his chest tightening and stomach turning over the sight of your amused smile and lit up eyes. this made him anxious.

you have much more to lose

everytime he sees you, he’s reminded of your very first conversation together when you were first years. he’s acutely aware of how much he has to lose, but if there’s one thing izuku could not bear to risk losing during the worst few years of his life, it was you.

“uh, why are you looking at me like that?” he nervously chuckles, his ears growing hot from trailing your eyes as they glaze over his face.

“i love you.” you smile, the alcohol finally making its way to your head. “a lot.”

izuku’s breathing stops for a moment. his eyes widen, and the nervous giggles continue pouring out as his facade from minutes earlier crumbles completely.

“why are you laughing?” you chuckle, taking a sip from your cup, choking back a grimace.

“i…i don’t know.” he bites his bottom lip, suddenly aware of his nervous habit. “you’re just being a silly drunk right now."

“what? because i said i love you?” you cock your head with a lazy smile “the L-word got your panties in a twist?”

“don’t know what you mean.” he turns his attention back to the mirror, subtly swiping his sweaty palms on his thighs before unplugging the tissue from his nose. 

for the first time in his life, he’s simultaneously grateful and regretful for alcohol. grateful for the red sheen over his face to mask his blush. regretful for the carelessness it caused you with your words. 

he doesn’t have the time or energy to entertain it. that is the one thing he’s certain of. he wouldn’t be good for you- wouldn’t give you the time and attention you deserved. he loves you too. he loves you enough to not say it back.

“it stopped bleeding. i think i’ll have to leave soon, so let’s get back out there, yeah? i’ll make you a better drink, too.”

he shoots you a forced grin before grabbing you by the shoulders and ushering you two back to the party where you reunite with your roommates and mutual friends. you leave your drink in the bathroom.

-

on the day izuku turns 22-years-old, he finds out that he’s on track to graduate with you and his friends. after stepping out for a quick phone call with his academic advisor, he drunkenly cries into your shoulder mid-birthday party (that his boss at the cafe forced him to take the time off to have).

all of the hard work and courses he packed on during his first two years at university finally paid off. though, that doesn't mean he’s gotten any easier on himself.

he quits his job at the library and starts student teaching part time at the local middle school for college credit.

you barely see him now-a-days. more often than not, your texts go unanswered.

izuku is a busy guy.

you miss him. you didn't realize how lonely it felt to walk back to your dorm from the library at midnight by yourself- you haven't felt this way for a while, not since you met izuku. 

you wished he made it easier for you. your feelings for him never subsides, but instead grows into a longing ache. it’ll be like this until graduation. the occasional text message, running into each other in the halls with quick hello and goodbye, coming into his weekend job just to see him for a few reassuring moments- you know you both needed it.

he talks about you to his students a lot- “my best friend,” “someone important to me,” “my support system,” and etc. he’s always referring to you.

he missed seeing you all the time, but it’s all been so hectic for him he hates to admit that you barely cross his mind when he’s in the midst of a busy day. on top of his regular grueling school work, he has to lesson-plan for the days he’s teaching, grade papers, as well as check in with his professors and mentors.

he doesn’t know how he does it.

working in that library was excruciating, but he missed nothing more than the last half hour of his shifts where it’d just be you two, sending shy glances at one another until it hit midnight. he doesn’t even mind the rest of the 6 hour shift where you’re just sitting in the same spot that you always gravitate towards, head in the textbook for him to look up at every now and then.

you tell him you love him for the second time at the end of your graduation party when all of the guests have cleared out of your half empty apartment.

“what?” his eyes go wide, exactly like they did a year ago.

“i love you, izuku.” you ball the sides of your graduation gown, wrinkling the fabric in your hands.

you’re sober this time, which makes it infinitely more painful to say out loud.

his mouth gapes open as if he’s a fish gasping for water. he doesn’t know what to say.

“i have for years.” you fill in the silence, fidgeting with the silky material. “ever since you kicked me out of that fucking library, i think. i don’t know. maybe i’m being stupid, but i can’t help it. i love you, and i need you to know before… you know.”

it’s been three years, and you’ve waited until this night to pour it all out because you knew that in less than 24 hours, you’d be going your separate ways.

in a perfect situation, izuku would tell you that he feels the same. he’d run through an airport to stop you from leaving and beg you to stay with him. you wouldn’t have to go back home. you’d share an apartment. live in the city. start your entry jobs. you’d have time together.

“i’m sorry.” is all he says. “i’m sorry.” he repeats.

tears well in his eyes, and he grabs you by the shoulders to pull you into his chest.

“sheesh, you’re such a crybaby.” you choke out a half chuckle, your eyes running hot now. “don’t be sorry, okay? i get it. i know.”

your arms tightly wrap around izuku’s waist as you two silently sob into one another. his hand runs through your hair, stopping at the nape of your neck to pull you closer.

there’s something much more painful behind this confession to cry about. you’re leaving the city, and you have no reason to stay. for the first time in three years, izuku won’t be within arm’s reach and you’re left with the cold reality of navigating your future without your best friend by your side.

“you know, i..” he begins, pulling you back to look at your face, searching for the right words, or an answer. “it’s not that i don’t feel the same, okay?” 

his cheeks lightly dust over pink. it’s the first time he’s admitted that out loud.

“i know.” you sadly smile, your hand reaching up to wipe away the stray tears left on his cheeks. “we’ll be okay. we worked hard for this, izuku.”

izuku felt like throwing up. he had spent the last three years working himself into the ground with endless all-nighters, black coffees, and missed events to get everything he’s ever wanted for his future, so why does it feel like his world is slipping from between his fingers?

yes, he worked hard, but he wondered if it was all enough?

“i’m going to miss you.” he mutters, connecting your foreheads together. “i already do. you’re everything to me.”

“me more. i’ll miss you more.”

after that night, you don’t see izuku again for a long time. 

izuku jumps into his new position at the local high school in the same school district as the middle school he worked at during his last year of university. he feels a sense of relief everytime he walks into his school building- something that he couldn’t ever say during his years as a student.

you move back home and land an entry job at a startup tech company. it’s boring work, but at least it’s remote and your days don’t mesh into one- you made sure you would never have to go through that again.

you try to stay connected, but work is busy, and you’re both trying to figure out what life is supposed to look like post-grad. occasionally, you’ll send each other a meaningless “thinking of you” message, but you eventually lose contact after a couple of years of trying to plan visits and meet ups- there is just no time. there never was.

-

at 27-years-old, izuku is spending his late afternoon sitting in his empty classroom with one of his students. it’s half an hour past their scheduled parent-teacher conference time, and he’s wondering if he should just reschedule.

“are you sure your mom is coming? did you tell her the right time and date?” izuku sighs, resting his head on a propped elbow.

“duh. what kind of student do you think i am?” they scoff, glancing up at him from their phone.

“judging by your grades, i know exactly the kind of student you are.” he mumbles.

izuku’s trying to not panic, the kid clearly isn’t, but he’s wondering how far back this sets his schedule. he should be starting on the stack of papers to grade by now. he still needs to write out a lesson plan for tomorrow. maybe the kids deserve a movie day? maybe he deserves a movie day.

“don’t freak out.” izuku hears from outside of his door “you’re fine. it’s okay. seriously, chill the fuck out you weren’t interrupting anything, i needed a break anyways. i’m walking in right now. yeah, i’ll let you know how it goes.”

finally.

izuku straightens up, and tightens his tie. he whips open his laptop and pulls up the tabs of grades and assignments to discuss.

“i’m so sorry-” the voice falters at the end as it enters the classroom.

“don’t be, i was just-” izuku glances up from his screen and his throat suddenly closes shut.

5 years later, and the universe leads you back to one another. here. in his classroom.

“izuku midoriya?” you cough out.

for the first time in his life, he doesn’t like the way his name sounds coming out of your mouth. it’s hesitant. it sounds foreign. it makes him question himself for a moment. 

yes? that’s me, right? it’s me, izuku. your izuku.

“what are…uh.. you…here?” he stammers, unable to get the words out.

you take a step forward into the classroom. you could pass out at the sight of him. he still seemed as boyish as ever. maybe a bit broader, and taller, but his hair is still just as wild as it was in university. you can’t help but feel a twinge of insecurity as you wonder if you looked any different as well.

“uh…where’s mom?” your nephew glances back and forth between you two starstrucked at the sight of one another. “we have to look over my grades and stuff, you know.”

“right!” you exclaim. “your mom got caught up at work, so she asked me to come in.” you awkwardly shift in your position, your eyes never leaving izuku’s.

izuku’s face flares up in heat, snapping back into the present as his eyes flicker back towards his student.

“you know what? let’s reschedule that. you can go and i’ll see you tomorrow?” he quickly stands up, knocking over his chair and hitting his knee against his desk in the process.

“really?” they cock an eyebrow at the shift in behavior from the two adults in the room.

“yup! we’re running late and i have a meeting right now, so i’ll just email your mom to reschedule.” he forces a reassuring grin, making his way around his desk. “don’t forget to read over the syllabus to see what’s due, alright?”

“alright, i guess. see you tomorrow then, sensei” they shoot you a questioning side glance as they sling their backpack over their shoulder. “are you taking me home?”

“no.” you say, almost a bit too quickly. “uh, i have some errands to run before your mom gets back home, so you go on ahead i’ll see you at home.”

once your nephew leaves, unsuspecting of the thick line of tension running between his aunt and teacher, izuku quickly rushes over and shuts his door.

“whatareyoudoinghere?” the sentence leaves his mouth in an incoherent string of words. he grabs you by the shoulders and lets his eyes take in your face. every curve, every mark, every wrinkle, old and new.

you feel 19 again. you guess the urge to kiss izuku midoroya never leaves you, after all. 

“my sister just got a new job, so i’m living with her and helping her out with the kids while she adjusts.” you breathlessly stare at him. “i didn’t know you were still in the city.”

of course he’s still here- exactly where you left him after all these years. his grip on your shoulders tightens as a response. he’s scared that if he lets go, you’ll be gone for good, or at least for another 5 years.

“we should catch up.” you smile, grabbing onto his forearms as a warmth crawls up your next “when are you free? i mean, you’re probably really busy, but even a phone call-”

“tonight? how about tonight?” he blurts out. “we can go somewhere?”

izuku reassures himself that it’s fine. the kids can have a movie day, and he’ll spend that time grading papers and catching up on work. the only thing he needs is right in front of him.

seeing your face light up makes him feel nothing but nostalgic euphoria. he never wants to lose this feeling again.

“i’ll text you, then? you still have my number?”

he almost laughs in your face. your text conversation has been pinned to the top since the day you exchanged phone numbers.

“by heart.”

-

“tech? like you work in IT?” izuku’s face scrunches in disgust. he almost spits his drink out. “why the hell would you do that to yourself?”

“shut up!” you rub your face in your hands, snorting out a laugh. “it’s easy, i’m in a senior position, it pays well, and it’s remote. that’s all i care about for now.”

you two meet at a nearby bar. outside of his suit and tie, he looked much younger. he looks like the izuku you knew half a decade ago with his perpetual pink cheeks, slightly too large graphic tee, and red sneakers.

“so you’re now living with your sister… in the city.” he begins, looking into your eyes with a hopeful gleam. “for how long?”

“i’m not sure.” you shrug. “i’m still figuring it out, but my lease back home is up at the end of next month, so either way, i have to see what i want to do by then.”

“you should stay in the city.” the words slipped out of his mouth before he could process them.

“i mean- it’s just, you know, your sister is here, and her kids, and there’s more opportunities and stuff, and your work is remote anyways, and uh-” he stammers, words flowing out in an unstoppable stream.

“-and you’re here?” you tease.

his face flushes red.

“it is a possibility.” you sigh, shooting him a subtle smirk and saving him the embarrassment of coming up with a response. “i don’t know though. my sister wants me to stay too, but it’s a lot to think about.”

“i get it. my mom moved to the city to be near. it was hard for her.” he takes a sip of his drink. “not with me, though! she’s got a townhouse in the outskirts.” he quips.

you laugh. he definitely hasn't changed.

“speaking of, do you want to come back to my apartment? right now?” he shyly asks, avoiding your gaze for a moment.

“right now?” you look down and check the time displayed on your phone.

11:00pm.

“it’s a school night isn’t it?” you cock your head to the side. "i'm surprised you even wanted to meet up this late. thought i'd have to book office hours with you weeks in advance to catch up." you tease

izuku mentally curses at himself for being so forgetful, and so predictable. he doesn’t want this night with you to end, but that 7:00am alarm set for tomorrow morning is inching closer and closer.

“you’re right.” his confidence deflates. “i guess we should get going.”

you two pay your tab and make your way to the exit. you stand facing each other at the corner of the street, taking in each other’s presence once more.

there’s a faint buzzing in your ear from the lamppost hanging above you and your breaths come out in shallow puffs. you don’t know why you’re so nervous all of the sudden. you wish you didn’t have to leave again.

“so, can we do this again? can i see you again?” he asks, shoving his hands into his pockets. 

“you think i’d get to see izuku midoriya from beyond the grave and let you get away? for the second time?”

he feels like he could cry right now, so he pulls you in for a hug instead. you haven’t changed at all- not in the ways that matter anyways. his hand falls against the nape of your neck as he presses his cheek against your forehead.

“i missed you.” he mutters into your hair.

“me more.”

before you go your separate ways, i love you sits at the tip of his tongue. he wants to tell you. to finally say back after all of these years, but it somehow doesn’t feel right- not yet at least.

-

a few weeks later, you find yourself sitting in one of izuku’s classroom desks. the top button of his shirt is undone, his sleeves rolled up, and the soft late afternoon sunlight streaming through his window bathes him in gold.

from over your laptop screen, you see izuku mumbling to himself as he reads through essays while twirling a red pen between his fingers. the look of concentration had been plastered to his face since you were students- dark furrowed brows, unblinking eyes, a twinge of anxiety, and tightly pressed lips.

“you’re staring.” he mutters in between his incoherent mumbles.

his eyes snap up to meet yours.

“no i’m not.” you shrug, suppressing a satisfied smile as your eyes return to your own screen.

“I think i’ve gotten pretty good at noticing after spending all those years with you in that library.” he returns the smile, leaning back in his seat. “you don’t stare often, but when you do, you stare loud.”

“says you.” you roll your eyes. “you don’t think i ever noticed the thousand glances every hour?”

his face scrunches in embarrassment. 

“not like i could help myself.” he mutters, sheepishly scratching the back of his neck. 

“ditto.” you halfway close your laptop and rest your head on a propped elbow. “but you knew that.”

the air in the room thickens between you two. you’ve been itching to have a conversation with izuku about your last moments before you left the city 5 years ago, but there hasn’t been a good time to bring it up. you weren’t even sure if you should at all.

“i don’t think i ever noticed.”

“noticed what?”

“that you liked me.” he pressed his lips together, nervous to bring up the past. “like that at least. i didn’t have a clue before you took me to that party.”

“how could you?” you breathe out a chuckle. “you were drowning in your work and studies, there was no time to even sleep let alone have anything romantic.”

a beat of silence passes.

“sorry.” he mutters.

“don’t be.” you shrug. "i loved you enough for the both of us. you were my best friend, and i wouldn’t change anything. maybe i would’ve forced you to take more naps, though.” you chuckle.

he doesn’t like the past tense termage of this conversation. it makes him feel a bit nauseous thinking that he really did lose it all, even with you here in front of him.

“i told you i felt the same, didn’t i?”

“mmm.. i guess so.” you mutter. “but it’s different. it was a goodbye.”

“i’m sorry.” he says again, with a pout this time.

“stop that.” you launch your pen in his direction, bouncing off of the chalk board behind him. “i’m here now. you’re here. you’re still my best friend. everything’s the same, except we’re a little bit older and have 5 years to catch up on. isn’t that enough?”

you two danced around the conversation for a few more minutes before returning to your work in silence. there was no clear answer as to where your feelings for each other stand now, but he feels just as sick as he did the day of the grad party.

but isn’t that enough? to just have you here now?

on a saturday night in his apartment, just days before you have to go home and sort out your living situation, izuku tells you he loves you for the first time.

you’re staring at him, unsure if maybe you heard him wrong or if it was the television in the background.

“huh?” your mouth gapes open. “what’d you say?”

“i..i love you.” his voice shakes as the words leave his mouth. “i love you, okay?”

for a split second, there’s a sequence of images that flash through his mind. his body would learn to wake up at 6:55am every morning despite his alarm being set for 7:00am. he sees you peacefully sleeping next to him, and he can’t bring himself to let that alarm go off and disturb you.

he’d start the coffee pot- enough for two, obviously. maybe he’d leave a nice note for you to start your day off with. maybe a grocery list if you’re up for the trip, but you’d insist that you go to the market together on the weekend. you’re very distracting, and he knows this, but you’d somehow always meet at the dining room table or his classroom to do work together. 

he’d come home to you softly singing in the kitchen while making dinner. every now and then, he’d surprise you with flowers when he comes home from work, but he’ll brush it off and say it’s “for the apartment” just out of pure nerves. movie nights. falling asleep on the couch together. waking up in the afternoon with a split second of panic- but it’s the weekend and he doesn’t have a class to get to. he’d see the sunlight pool against your face as you slowly wake up from your slumber with fluttering eyelashes. he’d kiss you in that unsuspecting moment. he’d say he loves you with every breath leaving his lungs. he’d always have time for you.

“izuku.” you sadly smile, turning over to the stove and extinguishing the flame. “you don’t have to do this, you know?”

his heart sinks to his stomach.

“i know- no it’s not like that.” he stammers. “it’s because.. i’m saying it because…”

he makes his way around the kitchen island to you, firmly gripping your shoulders. he wants to make sure you hear this from him properly. after all of these years.

“because i love you, and i think i alway have.” he bites his bottom lip. “and i think i always will, and you’re here, and i’m here, and i know it’s hard because i kind of really messed things up in university, but to be honest, i regret everything because yeah i love my job and i’m doing okay now, but i lost you for 5 years and thought i’d never get to see you again and i should've-”

he stops himself when he sees his reflection in your eyes. he’s doing it again- the rambling.

“sorry.” he mutters. “but do you…do you understand?” he almost pleads.

“i understand.” you nod your head, a long exhale following your reply.

for a moment, you’re 22 again, and the tears in his eyes threatening to spill over are no longer apologetic, but now hopeful.

you can’t help but pull him into a hug, running your hand up and down his back as he sniffs back his tears.

“always such a crybaby, izuku.” you muffle into his shoulder. “i love you, too. you know that.”

“i feel so stupid.” he chokes out. “5 years is so long, and i feel like i blacked out for the entirety of that time and now that you’re back, i’m alive and can't do it without you again.”

he pulls away, looking back at you with furrowed brows and tear stained cheeks.

“please stay in the city. please.” 

your eyes widen at the request- the same request you wished left his lips all those years ago.

“you want me to stay?”

“selfishly, yes.” he bites down on his bottom lip. “here. with me.”

you take a moment and let your eyes wander around the apartment. you eye the half cooked dinner on the stove, the pile of unopened mail sitting on the counter, the row of dead plants lining the living room window.

izuku follows your eyes. he knows you’d settle in nicely, almost like the final piece in a puzzle. he feels it in his gut. he also feels the panic bubbling in his stomach the longer your gaze lingers at the chaos behind him.

“is that too fast?” he breaks the silence. “sorry. i don’t mean to jump from ‘i love you’ to ‘move in with me’ in the same night.” he awkwardly laughs, releasing you from his grip. “uh, maybe we’ll talk more about that after dinner.”

his face burns into a bright red- snapping out of his love dazed state and back into the reality where he just confessed to his best friend on a random night in.

“maybe after dinner, you can give me a proper tour of the place?” 

for the first time in izuku's life, he feels content knowing that time passes and the world continues to turn.

with you, it feels a bit gentler.

with you, it's worth it.

-

bonus ssrryy i have to be indulgent lmao:

the first time izuku kisses you, you're on your way back from a late night outing from the bars with his coworkers where he introduces you as his partner for the first time.

"you sure you're okay?" he laughs as you rub your hand against the back of his neck from the passenger seat.

"super peachy, zuku." you hiccup, twirling a green curl between your fingers. "a few drinks got nothing on me."

izuku presses his lip into a wobbly smile.

from his peripheral, he feels your stare burning into his side profile, only making him more nervous by the second. he thinks about teasing you and calling it out for a moment, but he remains silent for the rest of the drive back home.

izuku parks the car, shutting off the engine and letting the overhead light dimly illuminated the space between you two.

he leans over to meet your eyes and rests his elbow over the center console, taking a second to silently debrief from the night's social outing.

"thanks for coming out with me." he whispers, reaching down and shyly interlocking his index finger with yours.

"i love a good excuse to drink." you laugh, leaning in and letting your foreheads connect.

izuku only had a single drink several hours ago, but he suddenly blacks out. with his other hands, he reaches up and tips your chin up and lock his lips with yours.

it takes you off guard, but you don't hesitate to reach up and rest your hand on the side of his neck.

when izuku pulls away, his breathing is heavy and face grows red. your finger remains interlocked.

"um. i love you." he coughs, briefly meeting your gaze before darting away. "uh, sorry i should have asked" he sheepishly rubs the back of his neck.

"i love you, izuku midoriya." you say in a teasing tone, leaning further over the center console and into the driver's seat.

izuku leans away until his back hits the soft interior of the car door.

"uh, we should.. we should go in? right?" he starts, eyes widening as you inch closer.

you reach over and grab the collar of his shirt, pulling him into you.

"yeah, we should." you say before crashing your lips into his, feeling him accept the defeat with a nervous laugh as he lets his hands find the soft skin of your cheek and warmth of your neck.

[ikeucity]

𝗕𝗥𝗢𝗨𝗚𝗛𝗧 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗛𝗘𝗔𝗧 𝗕𝗔𝗖𝗞. ─ 𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗣𝗧𝗘𝗥 𝗢𝗡𝗘

pairing. omegaverse!au ot7 x reader wordcount. 41k

warning. plot-heavy, abo dynamics, possessive and jealous behavior, fluff, angst, dub-con, non-traditional relationship structures such as poly/alpha-omega bonds, internal conflict, emotional manipulation, explicit sexual content. mdni. 18+

in a world where instincts rule, you're an omega thrust into the role of housemother for enhypen—a group of seven alphas. a story of power, temptation, and the fine line between duty and desire, leaving you—and the alphas—wondering how much longer you can resist.

co-author: @jaeyunsmochi 👹

the day had finally arrived. the day your father decided, without so much as asking, that you were to become enhypen’s omega. no discussion, no consideration for what you wanted. just cold, calculated logic. “it’s the perfect arrangement,” he’d said, like he was laying out some brilliant business plan rather than handing over your life. “they’re on the rise. you, my dear, will help ensure their success.” you’d tried to push back, to tell him you weren’t some piece to be traded, but his words had hit like bricks. “it’s for your own good,” he’d said, with that tone that left no room for debate. “you’ll be protected. you’ll be their housemother, a stabilizing influence. you’ll be cared for.” you knew what he meant. the scent, the intoxicating pull of an alpha’s pheromones, how it could twist you up inside and make you forget everything but them. you understood the risk, how easily your omega instincts could be triggered, leaving you vulnerable. but you also knew the allure—the way an alpha’s touch could make you shiver, the way their scent could make your body respond in ways you couldn’t control. you weren’t innocent when it came to alphas. you’d been tempted before, but your father’s iron grip on your life had kept you from falling into that world. he had no intention of letting you experience the full pull of being an omega, not under his watch. that’s why he insisted on the necklace—a thin silver chain with a flat round pendant that laid against your skin, subtle but potent. it wasn’t just jewelry. it was a suppressor, carefully designed to keep your omega instincts in check, dampening your natural scent and making sure you wouldn’t lose yourself in the presence of alphas. the necklace wasn’t simple either. it wasn’t just for show. the metal worked like a chemical barrier, interacting with your skin’s sweat and pheromones, releasing compounds that neutralized the scent you’d naturally emit. the compound in the metal regulated pheromone production, keeping you from reaching the overwhelming pull of your omega instincts. but the necklace wasn’t permanent. over time, the compound in the metal would run out. slowly but surely, it would lose its potency, and without regular maintenance or replacement, the suppressor would fail. it was a safeguard, but only for a limited time. he didn’t want you to be swept up in passion or desire. no, he wanted you to be their caretaker, not their lover. and now, here you were, standing in front of the flat where you’d be living with them—enhypen. seven alphas. seven men whose pheromones could break through every defense you had if not for this necklace.

as you stepped inside, the scent of fresh paint and disinfectant filled your nose, sterile and cold. the flat was sleek, modern, but it felt like a stage. like everything was set up for you to step into a role you hadn’t chosen. the kitchen, with its marble countertops and stainless steel appliances, gleamed under the sunlight. it looked like it belonged in a magazine, not in the place where you’d have to figure out how to manage living with seven alpha men. the living room was expansive, plush couches and wide-open space, the kind of place that promised warmth and comfort, but right now, it just felt like a reminder of the unknown that was waiting for you.

you walked to the large glass windows, staring out at the city skyline, wondering if you were ready for this. if you could handle it. seven alphas, your mind whispered, the thought lingering in the back of your mind, making your pulse quicken.

you sat on the edge of the couch, fingers nervously playing with the necklace. the cool metal against your skin was a reminder of the control your father still held over you, even now. it was more than a scent suppressor. it was a chain, a leash, keeping you from experiencing the full intensity of what could happen here.

and you were about to meet them.

your mind wandered as you thought about what their reactions would be. would they notice the necklace for what it was? would they care? or would they just see it as another accessory, not realizing the power it held? would your muted scent still call to them, or would it stay buried, hidden beneath the necklace’s magic?

you looked at your reflection in the vanity mirror, catching sight of yourself. oversized hoodie, loose shorts—casual, comfortable, but you couldn’t help but feel a little out of place. your hair was loose, tumbling down your shoulders, softening your appearance. you wanted to project confidence, control, but there was a flicker of uncertainty.

your eyes drifted to the pendant, and a wave of anxiety hit you. it was tarnished, dull in places, a stark contrast to the shine it usually had. panic bubbled up. you couldn’t meet these alphas looking like this. you couldn’t let them see you slipping on even the smallest detail.

you rushed into the bathroom, hunting for baking soda and a cloth, determined to get the pendant gleaming again. as you scrubbed, the faint scent of vanilla—your scent—began to rise in the air. you froze, realizing the necklace wasn’t doing its job. not fully, not right now.

shit. if they walked in now, if they smelled you, they’d know. they’d know how strong your scent is for an omega.

you scrubbed harder, trying to finish quickly, cursing under your breath as your scent thickened in the small bathroom. the last thing you needed was for them to catch you off guard, vulnerable, your omega instincts creeping to the surface before you even met them.

meanwhile, just outside the flat’s door, the sound of luggage wheels had stopped. sneakers shuffled against the floor as seven pairs of feet stood still. they had arrived, and while you were still focused on scrubbing the pendant, unaware, your world was about to collide with theirs.

“I’m sick of this,” jay grumbled, frustration clear in his voice as he fumbled for the key at the door of their new flat. the crisp evening air carried the scent of fresh grass and blooming flowers, but it did nothing to ease the tension simmering between them. “another housemother, after the disaster we had last time…”

“what do you mean, ‘disaster’?” jungwon asked, his curiosity piqued as he glanced over at jay.

jay scoffed, his voice dripping with disdain. “remember the one we had at the trainee dorm? supposed to be some professional omega, but she turned out to be a total psycho. always sneaking into our rooms, even when we were there. creepy as hell.”

jungwon’s eyes widened in disbelief. “she was trying to seduce all of you?” he couldn’t recall her even sparing him a glance. not that he cared, but still, this was news to him.

“not just seduce,” jay replied, shaking his head with an exasperated chuckle. “she tried to get us to sign some insane contract, claiming she’d be our permanent omega. even spiked our drinks one night. it was a full-blown nightmare.”

jungwon chuckled, shaking his head. “i can’t believe i missed all that. she avoided me like the plague. guess i should be grateful.”

“you were the lucky one,” jay muttered. “the rest of us had to deal with her hovering, manipulative bullshit.”

“that’s messed up,” jungwon said, his tone more serious now. “i can’t believe she tried to manipulate you guys like that.”

jay sighed, frustration returning to his voice. “that’s why i’m not exactly thrilled about this new one. i just hope she’s a professional and not some kind of psycho stalker.”

jungwon, ever the optimist, tried to lighten the mood. “well, at least the place looks great. maybe this time it’ll be different.”

“let’s hope so,” jay muttered, rubbing his forehead. “i just want some peace and quiet.”

sunghoon chimed in with a smirk, “the worst part wasn’t even the stalker vibes. it was her scent. smelled like burnt cabbage and old gym socks. i swear, i almost passed out every time she got too close.”

“oh god, i remember that,” jungwon recalled, face scrunching in mock disgust. “it was like she rolled around in a dumpster before coming to work.”

“at least she kept the place clean,” heeseung said, always trying to be diplomatic. “her cooking was… questionable, but the flat was spotless.”

“yeah, but she was suffocating,” jay complained, waving a small fan dramatically. “it was like she tried to smother us with her… affection.”

“affection?” sunghoon laughed, a mischievous glint in his eye. “more like desperation.”

“okay, enough with reminiscing,” heeseung chuckled. “let’s just hope this new housemother is less… intense.”

“and doesn’t smell like burnt cabbage,” jungwon added, earning a round of laughter.

“so, how does this whole housemother system even work?” jake asked, curiosity in his tone. “i mean, we’re idols, we’re busy, stressed—why do we need an omega living with us?”

“it’s kinda a weird setup,” heeseung explained, leaning against the doorframe. “omegas are supposed to bring balance. it’s more about emotional and physical support. keeping us calm.”

“so, like a big emotional support teddy bear?” sunoo asked, eyes wide.

“pretty much,” heeseung said with a laugh. “it helps with the stress, the constant pressure, and the whole… lack of personal space we deal with. honestly, sexual frustration is part of it too.”

“yeah, it’s been a while since we’ve had an omega around,” jay said, turning more serious. “it’s been too long since we’ve had someone to… you know.”

“it must be hard to keep everything in check,” jungwon said with a sympathetic nod.

“it’s not easy,” jay admitted. “but we manage. still, having someone around for comfort—emotional and physical—makes a difference.”

“comfort, right,” jake muttered under his breath. “what we need is a good fuck.”

“don’t be so crude,” sunghoon said, rolling his eyes. “we’re not animals.”

“speak for yourself,” jake shot back with a smirk. “i’m a man with needs.”

“and those needs are definitely being neglected,” niki added, frustration creeping into his voice. “it’s been months since my last heat.”

“yeah, same here,” sunoo groaned dramatically. “i feel like i’m going to turn into a werewolf or something.”

“don’t worry, sunoo,” jay said with a grin. “we’ll find you an omega who can handle your intense… needs.”

“oh, i can handle it,” sunoo said with a roll of his eyes, dripping with sarcasm.

jay chuckled, shrugging. “just trying to be supportive.”

“well, let’s hope this new housemother is what we need,” sunghoon said with a hint of hope. “someone who can actually help us relax.”

“and doesn’t smell like burnt cabbage,” niki muttered, causing another round of laughter.

jake, however, remained skeptical. “honestly, it might be worse having an omega around. either we won’t like her, or we’ll want to mate with her. there’s no in-between.”

jungwon sighed, shaking his head. “let’s at least give her a chance before we jump to conclusions.”

the new flat was impressive—sleek, modern, and more secluded than their last one, with the promise of better privacy. “wow, this place looks amazing,” jungwon remarked, eyes gleaming with interest as he surveyed the surroundings.

“do you think we’ll each get our own room?” jungwon asked, excitement bubbling in his voice as his eyes scanned the building’s exterior.

“god help us if we have to room with jay again,” sunghoon teased, earning a playful glare from jay and a chorus of laughter from the others.

“it’s boiling out here,” sunoo groaned, waving a small electric fan in front of his face with little effect. sweat trickled down his back, making his shirt stick to his skin.

niki, silently noticing his discomfort, offered him some tissues. sunoo grabbed them with a grateful nod, dabbing his forehead as he tried to cool down.

jake, growing impatient, cast a sideways glance at jay, still fumbling with the key, his hands full with a camera and a small bag. jake’s foot tapped against the ground, his smile slipping just a bit. “what’s taking so long?!”

“almost there,” jay grumbled, wrestling with the lock, his frustration barely hidden as he tried to balance everything.

jake, ever the impatient one, sighed dramatically and marched forward. “okay, enough of this,” he said, his tone light but with just enough annoyance to make the others chuckle.

with a playful groan, jake grabbed the door handle and twisted it as if trying to break in. to everyone’s surprise, the door swung open with a loud thud, the knob slamming against the wall.

the group jumped slightly at the unexpected noise, but jake burst into laughter, clearly proud of himself. “well, that’s one way to make an entrance,” he said, grinning like a kid who just got away with something.

“it was unlocked the whole time?” sunghoon asked, eyeing the open door cautiously before stepping inside.

heeseung, ever the calm one, raised an eyebrow but didn't seem fazed. he dropped his duffel bag on the kitchen counter and took a moment to look around. “weren’t we supposed to meet our housemother here? what if she’s already inside?” heeseung wondered aloud, biting into an apple he grabbed from a fruit bowl, unfazed by the chaos around him.

the others followed suit, taking in the space. sunoo, always ready for a photo op, found a spot near the window, instantly captivated by the view. with the soft light filtering in, he pulled his phone out and started snapping selfies, angling his face just right to catch the golden glow on his skin.

jungwon and jay hauled their luggage into the living room, both of them tired but relieved to finally be inside. jake and sunghoon, meanwhile, flopped down on the plush sofa, sinking into the cushions with a collective sigh of relief.

“finally,” jake muttered, stretching his arms behind his head. “i thought i was gonna drop dead outside.”

“this place is nice,” sunghoon added, his eyes roaming the room, taking in the sleek, modern design. “at least we’re not roughing it.”

“yeah, but where’s the housemother?” jungwon asked, glancing around the space, still half-expecting someone to appear from behind one of the closed doors.

“maybe she’s running late,” jay shrugged, though the thought of being alone in the flat with no one to handle things didn’t exactly bother him.

heeseung took another bite of his apple, completely at ease. “or maybe she’s hiding, getting ready to ambush us with rules and schedules,” he joked, but there was a glimmer of truth in his tone. they’d had their fair share of housemothers with very different styles of managing things.

“well, she better be cool,” jake mumbled, eyes closed as he lounged on the sofa. “because i don’t think i can handle another psycho.”

the group chuckled, but there was an underlying tension. the memory of the last housemother still lingered, and no one was quite sure what to expect this time around.

“you know, that last housemother was actually terrified of jungwon,” jake said with a laugh, shooting a playful glance at jungwon.

sunoo snickered, his eyes lighting up with amusement. “yeah, I remember that! she’d literally run away if he got anywhere near her.”

jungwon furrowed his brow. “what? i’m not scary,” he protested, looking genuinely confused.

jay couldn’t resist jumping in, his voice teasing. “oh, you’re totally not scary. you’re just the quiet guy who stares holes through people when you’re not happy. definitely not intimidating at all.”

“and you always seem to know what everyone’s thinking,” sunghoon added, shaking his head with a grin. “kinda creepy, actually.”

jungwon rolled his eyes. “i’m just good at reading people,” he shrugged. “it’s not my fault people get freaked out.”

heeseung, grinning, leaned against the counter. “well, that skill of yours clearly intimidated some poor housemother. you probably scared her half to death.”

jungwon chuckled lightly, his amusement shining through. “guess she didn’t figure out i’m actually a nice guy.”

suddenly, niki’s excited voice echoed down the hall. “hyung! eight bedrooms! we each get our own room! there are eight bedrooms and two baths!”

jungwon’s eyes widened with excitement, quickly mumbling, “i have to see this,” before darting off to explore the new space, his curiosity getting the better of him.

jay, still managing the luggage, chuckled and waved him off. “go on, go pick your room.”

jungwon began opening each bedroom door, niki close behind, both mentally claiming their spaces as they explored. the scent of fresh paint and new furniture filled the air, making the newness of the flat even more exciting.

niki, always quick to spot things, pointed out a room lined with mirrors. “sunoo’s gonna love this one,” he said before heading off to find him. jungwon continued to explore, smiling to himself as their voices echoed through the flat, laughter filling the space.

but something caught his attention.

as he passed the end of the hallway, his sharp eyes caught sight of a slightly ajar metal door. it seemed out of place, heavy, unlike the others. his mind briefly replayed the strange way the front door had been unlocked when they arrived. he knew they were supposed to meet their housemother here, but no one had shown up yet.

always the curious one, jungwon couldn’t resist. he pushed the door open quietly, stepping into the dimly lit room. the weight of the door was surprising, and a flicker of suspicion crossed his mind—was their housemother actually a man? the thought hung in the air for a moment before he brushed it off.

the room inside was small but perfectly neat. everything was meticulously arranged, from the framed photo on the nightstand to the carefully stacked books on a shelf. a single plant sat in the corner, adding a touch of warmth to the otherwise minimal space. everything about the room spoke of control, order, and simplicity.

and then, the scent hit him.

vanilla. subtle, but unmistakable. it filled the air, sweet but not overpowering. it was the kind of scent that lingered softly, inviting without being intrusive. his senses picked up on it immediately, and he couldn’t help but take a deeper breath, letting the fragrance settle around him.

his gaze shifted to the closed bathroom door, where the faint sound of running water could be heard. his instinct told him he should leave—this was private, and he was crossing a boundary just by being here. but something held him back, a pull of curiosity he couldn’t shake.

he took another step closer, the air thick with a sweetness that seeped into his skin, deeper with every breath. it wasn't that foul mix of burnt cabbage and old socks he used to gag on from the last housemother, not the rotting stench that clung to the walls. no, this was different. way too different.

this was like dessert for an alpha—a rich, creamy vanilla that wrapped around his senses, teasing him, daring him to come closer, promising something he couldn't even begin to resist.

jungwon’s breath caught, his heart racing, a steady thump echoing in his ears. he’d never been hit this hard by an omega scent. not like this. not the kind that made him feel like every nerve was on fire. it was dangerous, pulling him in like it had him on a leash, dragging him straight toward the bathroom door where the scent was strongest.

he knew he should go, tell the others their new housemother’s actually here. he should move, but it was like his feet were glued to the floor. fuck, he was frozen. trapped in this vanilla haze, his body betraying him with every deep inhale.

“uh, hello?” his voice cracked, barely more than a breath.

nothing. just the sound of running water, steady, syncing with his pounding heart.

“is someone there?” louder this time, though he wasn't sure if he even wanted an answer.

still nothing.

his pulse quickened, excitement mixing with something darker, something raw. he’d never been this close to an omega with a scent this powerful. never this close to losing control. another step closer. the heat built, creeping under his skin, prickling at his spine. his hand twitched, itching to push the door open, just to see who was behind it, just to know who was making him feel like this.

“hello?” he tried again, his voice tight with something desperate now.

and then the water cut off, leaving only silence.

the scent slammed into him, hard. fuck. it was like vanilla turned up to ten, all-consuming, a wave that crashed over him, drowning him in sweetness. his knees damn near buckled.

jungwon’s eyes widened. he was choking on it, heart slamming against his ribs. “fuck,” he breathed, the word rough, filled with want.

his instincts screamed at him—this omega was his. his to claim, his to knot, to make his. he could see it already: your skin against his, the taste of you on his lips, the way you'd shudder beneath him, taking everything he gives.

“god, i’m so fucking hard,” he muttered, his hand moving to his crotch, trying to calm the ache that was throbbing, demanding.

he should walk away. leave. respect your space. but the alpha in him didn't give a shit about respect right now. the scent was too strong, too damn tempting, and he was too far gone to stop.

your heart skipped a beat, freezing as you heard a muffled “hello” from just outside the bathroom door. the cloth you were using to dry your necklace slipped from your fingers, forgotten on the edge of the sink. you weren’t ready for this. fuck.

they weren’t supposed to be here yet.

you thought you had at least an hour. plenty of time to finish up and get out before anyone even noticed. but you’d grown too comfortable. if it wasn’t such a goddamn struggle with your weight dragging you down, you would’ve shut that heavy metal door to your room. now, it was too late.

the scent hit you—cinnamon, warm and thick, creeping into your lungs with every breath. it sent sparks through your body, made your skin prickle, your knees weaken. your body was betraying you, reacting to the alpha’s scent like it had been waiting for this. your thighs pressed together involuntarily, and you gripped the sink tighter, trying to steady yourself, but it was no use. the slickness between your legs was already there, a humiliating sign that your body was preparing, submitting, wanting.

heat surged through you, burning hotter by the second, and all you could think about was relief, anything to dull the ache that was building inside you. you heard more muffled words from behind the door, but they barely registered. you were too far gone, senses drowning in the need to feel, to be claimed.

your tongue felt heavy, stuck, useless. your hands trembled as you took a shaky step back, catching a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. you looked wrecked—cheeks flushed, eyes wide and desperate. the necklace you were holding slipped from your fingers and hit the floor with a soft thud, barely noticeable over the pounding of your heart.

your vision blurred, panic creeping in as the overload of sensations threatened to drown you completely. everything felt too much—too loud, too hot, too close. you dropped to your knees, frantically patting the floor for the necklace, but the world was spinning around you, making it impossible to focus. your body was screaming for something else, something far more primal.

the hunger inside you felt animalistic, gnawing at your insides, demanding satisfaction, craving the alpha that carries that intoxicating cinnamon scent. but you couldn't give in. not like this.

you fucking hated your father and his stupid rules.

this had to be one of the alphas you were supposed to take care of, and fuck, he smelled like fresh cinnamon rolls—warm, sweet, and irresistible. if this was any other situation, you’d be dragging him in by the collar, begging him to take you. but you couldn't. god, you fucking couldn't.

your pulse raced, sweat clinging to your skin as panic surged. your mind was scrambling, searching for a way out, but it was like the walls were closing in, and the alpha's scent was making everything worse. you almost choked on it as it intensified, a thick cloud of cinnamon filling your lungs. and then you saw it—a shadow under the door.

he was right there.

jungwon was standing on the other side, and fuck, he could smell you. he knew. his mouth watered at the scent of your slick, knowing full well his scent was affecting you just as much. maybe even more.

“shit, i can smell you,” he groaned, voice thick with desire. he leaned into the door like he was trying to push through, desperate to get closer. “i want to see you. can i?” his voice dropped, smooth and teasing, sending a shiver down your spine. “i’m jungwon.”

you bit down hard on your lip, trying to keep your body from betraying you, inching away from the door. your heart pounded so loud it was deafening, your legs trembling as you fought to stay in control. you could feel the heat radiating off your skin, your thighs pressing together for some kind of relief. but it was useless.

“you’re wet, aren’t you? i can smell it, bunny. come out here and play,” he growled, and it sent a jolt straight through you, making your knees nearly buckle. the way he was talking about it, like it was a challenge, made you whimper, your body’s reaction immediate, shame mixing with raw need.

“n-no,” you barely squeaked out, your voice cracking under the pressure. “can you… give me a second?”

your pathetic whimper did nothing but fuel him, his breath hitching at the sound of it. his hand twisted the knob, testing it, and the frustration was palpable when he realized it was locked. his patience was wearing thin.

“fuck,” he muttered under his breath, leaning his forehead against the door. “please,” he begged, voice dropping to something dangerously close to pleading. “please, let me in.”

you slid to the floor, legs no longer able to hold your weight. the cool tiles offered a brief moment of clarity, the chill biting at your skin, but it was not enough. “i can’t,” you whispered, barely able to get the words out. “your scent… it’s too much.”

he growled in frustration, his fist slamming into the door, rattling the hinges. the sound vibrated through you, shaking you to your core. you could feel his anger, his impatience, and somehow it only made his scent stronger, more overwhelming, filling the air until you could barely breathe. slick was already running down your thighs, your body practically begging for him, even as you tried to hold onto what little control you had left.

you were fucked. completely fucked.

this wasn't how you wanted to meet them, not like this. sure, you’d dealt with alphas reacting to your pheromones before, but this? this was different. this was bad. you hadn't been affected like this in so long.

under different circumstances, you’d be thanking the universe for sending an alpha like jungwon your way. fuck, his scent alone made your mouth water. you could already imagine how good it’d feel to have him inside you, his body pressed against yours, the way he’d make you come undone. but you couldn't think about that. you couldn't.

because your father’s voice echoed in your head, reminding you of the rules. strict rules. no matter how badly you or they wanted it, there were boundaries you can’t cross.

the pounding on the door got louder, matching the frantic beat of your heart. “please,” jungwon's voice was rough, strained with need. “i won’t hurt you. i just… i want to meet you. sorry if i scared you.” his tone softened, but there was something lurking underneath, something dark and twisted that made your instincts scream at you to stay the hell away. you could almost picture the smirk curling at the edges of his lips.

but you stayed hidden.

despite everything—your body practically begging you to give in—some tiny piece of rationality kept you from opening that door. you clutched the cold tiles, forcing yourself to stay grounded, to resist the pull of his scent thickening the air, clouding your mind.

sunghoon stretched out on the plush sofa, a lazy smirk tugging at his lips as the velvet cushions sank beneath him. “man, i’m starving. think our new housemother knows how to cook? god, i hope she can actually make something edible,” he said, voice dripping with sarcasm. beside him, jake sprawled out on his stomach, face pressed against the cushions as he let out a loud yawn, stretching his legs out and kicking sunghoon’s lightly. “if she doesn’t, we’re screwed,” he muttered, rubbing his face against the fabric. there was something comforting about the scent lingering in the air—fresh laundry and a faint hint of pine from the air freshener. it reminded him of home, of comfort. but then, something else hit him. it was subtle at first, like a whisper, but the more he breathed it in, the more it consumed him. vanilla. warm, sweet, going straight to his core. he paused, brows furrowed, and shot sunghoon a confused look. “you smell that?” jake asked, pushing himself up slightly.

“what?” sunghoon asked, eyes still half-lidded with that lazy smirk. jake didn't answer right away, nose practically buried into the cushion, trying to catch more of that intoxicating scent. he looked ridiculous, really, crawling over the sofa like a bloodhound on the hunt. but fuck, he needed more of it. he didn't even think as he dipped down, his tongue swiping across the fabric where your scent lingered, a soft groan escaping his lips. his jeans suddenly became too tight, his cock pressing hard against the denim, and it took everything in him not to hump the damn cushion right there. sunghoon stared at him in disbelief, eyes wide. “the fuck are you doing?” “it smells so fucking good,” jake mumbled, momentarily lost in the sensation. it was primal, almost feral, the way the scent shoot straight through him, making his head spin and his body ache for more. his brothers picked up on the shift immediately, the air thickening as jake’s pheromones bled into the room, mixing with the scent of his arousal. it was overwhelming, making their noses twitch and crinkle in response. “dude,” heeseung chuckled, though there’s a tightness to it, his shoulders visibly tensing. “stop releasing your scent. you’re gonna make me throw up.”

sunghoon snorted, shaking his head. “you like that? sniffing the sofa like some damn dog?” he teased, a smirk on his lips, shoving jake playfully. jake shoved him back, not in the mood for jokes. “i’m serious, man. that’s her. i know it.” jake’s voice held a strange seriousness as he pulled back, sitting up straight. “she’s the only omega in the house. that’s her scent.” sunghoon rolled his eyes. “you’re just bitchless, dude. makes your nose oversensitive.” “fuck off, i know what i’m talking about.” jake’s voice grew firmer, his eyes darkening as the primal instincts started to rise. “i’ve got a good nose for omegas. i know what i’m smelling.” he leaned back into the sofa, trying to relax, though the lingering scent kept him on edge. “it’s the kind of scent that makes you want to protect… to claim. it’s driving me nuts. bet she’s cute as fuck.” heeseung’s grin faded, his tone turning more serious. “well, if she smells as good as you say, we better be careful. we can’t go acting on instincts.” “yeah, i know,” jake muttered, though the desire still flickered in his eyes. “but it’s not gonna be easy.” “especially with you acting like a damn pup in heat,” sunghoon smirked, earning a glare from jake. “shut up, hoon,” jake snapped, though there was no real bite behind it. “i just hope she’s a good cook. maybe that’ll distract me.”

“or maybe you’ll be sniffing around the kitchen, too,” sunghoon laughed, the tension easing a little as the conversation lightened. jake, still half-lost in the scent, gestured to the sofa. “try it,” he said, his voice low, daring them. sunoo piped up from the corner, wrinkling his nose. “i’m not going anywhere near that sofa after you slobbered all over it, you freak.” “i’m telling you, you’re missing out,” jake said, nodding his head toward the cushion, though everyone looked at him like he had lost his mind. “nah, man,” jay chimed in, raising his hands in surrender. “i still think you’re being dramatic.” heeseung leaned back, “honestly, i’m just glad she doesn’t smell like a dumpster like the last one,” he propped his legs up on the coffee table, slumping deeper into the sofa chair. the others were still laughing at his joke, but his mind drifted back to their last housemother. her scent had been a constant assault, like it was trying to choke him every time she came near. he’d barely managed to stay polite, always holding his breath. the day she left had felt like a fucking blessing. now, though, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. jake was usually the calm one when it came to omegas, the guy who always kept his head on straight. yet here he was, acting like a love-struck idiot, sniffing the sofa like it was the only thing in the world that mattered. “you’re gonna need to get your shit together, jake,” sunghoon said, his voice firm but teasing. “we can’t let this omega turn us into a bunch of horny messes.” “i know,” jake muttered, though the words were strained, his focus clearly somewhere else. “it’s just… fuck, she smells so good. you’ll get it when you—” “you’re being dramatic,” heeseung cut in with a chuckle, trying to keep things light. “yeah, man, you’re probably overreacting,” sunghoon added, patting jake’s back. before anyone could say more, an overwhelming wave of pheromones hit the room. the thick scent of cinnamon, musk, and pure, raw arousal filled the air, so potent it made them all freeze, heads snapping in unison toward the source.

jungwon. heeseung felt a tightness in his chest. jungwon’s scent always had a way of throwing him off, even when it wasn’t directed at him. now, it was making his head spin. “jungwon, knock it off!” heeseung yelled, shielding his face with his hand. “you’re giving me a fucking headache.” “you guys always overdo it,” sunghoon groaned, his nose scrunching in distaste. “you wanna fucking kill us, won?” a sudden bang from down the hall snapped their attention to the noise, tension crackling in the air. niki, usually calm and collected, felt panic rise in his chest. the thick mix of jungwon’s cinnamon scent, now laced with a sweet hint of vanilla, is dizzying, suffocating. something was wrong. and it was only getting worse. niki’s eyes darted toward the hallway, searching for answers, but all he found was a sickening sense of dread settling into his bones. he didn't know what to do, didn't know how to fix this, and it scared the shit out of him. “something’s not right,” niki whispered. “where the hell is he?” heeseung snapped, his voice tinged with irritation. “i can smell him everywhere, but i don’t see him.” jake’s eyes narrowed, his senses sharpening as the pieces clicked together in his mind. the scent of cinnamon, now laced with vanilla, told him everything he needed to know. his jaw tightened, a low growl vibrating in his chest. “he’s with her,” jake said, voice dark with realization. “he got to her first.”

jay’s eyes widened in disbelief. “no fucking way—he wouldn’t—” “i fucking know it,” jake cut him off, then bolted from the room, his focus singular, laser-sharp as he raced toward the closed metal door, desperate to reach you before jungwon did something irreversible. “jakey boy did say she smelled amazing,” sunghoon stood up, a smirk playing at his lips. “let me see what’s got him all worked up.” he crouched down, leaning in toward the sofa cushion jake had been sniffing, his expression a mix of disgust and curiosity. not entirely pleased at the fact he’d smell jake’s saliva, but the moment he inhaled, his heart slammed against his ribs, his entire body responding to the intoxicating scent. “holy shit,” he whispered, eyes wide, the primal hunger clouding his thoughts. seeing sunghoon’s reaction, the others exchanged glances before moving in, one by one catching a whiff of the scent that had driven jake wild. each of them reacted the same way—shock, disbelief, and the unmistakable burn of arousal. “fuck, he’s right,” jay said, his voice filled with awe and confusion. “this is crazy,” sunoo muttered, shaking his head like he was trying to clear it, but the scent clung, thick and overwhelming, wrapping around his senses. “no fucking way,” niki whispered, eyes wide, fear mixing with fascination. but heeseung wasn't smiling. his mind raced as he tries to think of a way to de-escalate the situation. the scent was too strong, too dangerous. he noticed they were all barely holding on, and it was only a matter of time before someone snapped.

“we’re screwed,” sunghoon declared, standing up straight. “no way in hell we’re holding back if she smells that good.” what? heeseung’s eyes snapped to him, disbelief flooding his system as he shoved sunghoon aside, leaning in closer to the spot on the sofa. the moment the scent hit him, it was like being punched in the gut. his body reacted before his mind can catch up, a sharp hunger tearing through him, raw and possessive. like your scent was calling him, promising a pleasure so intense that it could kill him. he took a step back, breath quickening. “shit,” he breathed, his mind struggling to process the overwhelming desire now clawing at him. a low snarl escaped him, cutting through the room. “get jungwon out of there. now.” his order cut through the tension, and the others scrambled into action, racing toward the hallway where jungwon had disappeared. heeseung followed, every step heavy with the weight of the situation spiraling out of control. his fists clenched at his sides, trying to hold back the overwhelming urge to bury his face into the sofa and lose himself in your scent like jake had. heeseung knew how powerful an omega’s scent could be, how it could push an alpha to the edge of madness. he’d seen it before. but this? this was on another level. as he made his way down the hall, your scent thick in the air, he had a sinking feeling this housemother was going to be a lot more trouble than they ever bargained for. and fuck, he needed to know—who the hell were you?

“i’m done asking nicely. open the fucking door,” jungwon snarled, his voice booming through the room. it wasn’t a request anymore—it was a primal fucking command. every word sent a ripple through you, your body trembling, heat rising in your chest. that omega part of you, the one that wanted nothing more than to submit, stirred like it had been waiting for this moment all along. fuck, you craved him.

you were moving before you could think, crawling toward the door like something inside you had already surrendered. your breath hitched, anticipation coiling tight in your belly. every inch you dragged yourself closer made your chest ache with need. jungwon was pressed up against the door, you could practically feel the heat radiating off him, the wild energy crackling between you two. his desperation—fuck, it matched your own, mirrored in every breath he took.

“i’m gonna break this fucking door down—” his growl got cut off by the heavy thud of jake slamming into him, the sudden impact making the door shake on its hinges. you heard the scuffle, the grunt of breath knocked out, but you stayed frozen, your body betraying you, caught between the pull of two alphas now. jake had his hands on jungwon before either of them could react, pushing him hard against the wall. “you’re not getting to her first,” jake snarled, his grip digging into jungwon’s arm, his knuckles white with the strain of holding him back. jungwon didn’t even flinch. “get the fuck off me,” he growled, shoving back, teeth bared. “i found her first.” “found her?” jake spat, shoving harder, his voice shaking with anger. “you’re a fucking idiot, jungwon.” jungwon’s eyes narrowed, his voice dropping to something deeper, darker, thick with the kind of need that made your skin prickle. “back the fuck off,” he repeated, losing himself to that alpha instinct that had him blinded with possession. “she’s not yours,” jake sneered, his tone dripping with disdain. “she’s not even leaking for you.” the tension between them was thick enough to choke on, neither of them throwing punches, but fuck, they might as well have been. jake’s grip didn’t loosen, his fingers digging in with a desperate intensity, trying to keep jungwon pinned down. and you? you finally made it to the door, trembling as your hands fumbled with the lock. you had no idea what the hell was going on outside, your head clouded, body screaming for jungwon. every inch of you was numb except for the ache burning deep inside. you couldn’t wait any longer.

the door creaked open, and there he was. jungwon—god, he was everything. his sharp jawline clenched tight, eyes burning with feral heat, hair disheveled from the struggle, wild and untamed. you could barely breathe. his skin gleamed, smooth and warm like fucking honey, and his lips, fuck, they were parted, catching his ragged breaths. but then you saw it—jake, pinning him down. another alpha. the panic hit you like a tidal wave, and you slapped your hands over your mouth as the mix of their scents hit you like a brick to the face. jake’s cool, crisp scent cut through the cinnamon warmth of jungwon’s, and it was too much. the overload had you reeling, barely able to stand. jungwon’s eyes met yours, and that feral look—fuck, it was like nothing you’d ever seen. “bunny,” he breathed, his voice broken, desperate, lying flat on his back, pain written across his face from jake’s tackle. his eyes said everything—he wanted you. no, he needed you. but jake’s grip loosened, and the second jungwon had a sliver of freedom, jake’s attention snapped to you. his eyes blazed with fury, and before you could react, he lunged for you like a man possessed. holy shit, he was all raw alpha energy, moving with a speed that had your heart in your throat. he stopped right in front of you, close enough that his breath ghosted over your skin, his eyes flickering as he took in every detail. and then you felt it. fuck.

“oh god,” he growled, his voice deep, guttural, eyes dropping to the wetness pooling between your thighs. his tongue clicked against his teeth, and he leaned in, like he wanted to drown in your scent. “look at you. fucking perfect.” his words sent a shock through you, and suddenly you couldn’t think straight. jake’s gaze roamed over you, drinking in the sight of your body, covered in that worn hoodie and shorts, but to him, it was like you were standing there bare. you were a fucking masterpiece to him, something he wanted to claim, and it had his chest heaving. your tear-streaked face only seemed to spur him on, made him even harder. you saw it, that hunger in his eyes, the way his nostrils flared when your scent hit him fully. he was fucking losing it. his eyes narrowed, focused only on you, his voice dropping into a low rumble that sent shivers down your spine. “the scent you left on that sofa? it’s nothing compared to having you here, right in front of me, omega.” jake’s nose skimmed your neck, his breath hot, and you could feel the groan rumbling in his chest as he inhaled deeply. it was like he was marking you without even touching you. every second he spent close to you, you felt the tension snapping inside, the resistance crumbling. “sorry for what i’m about to do to you,” he whispered, his lips ghosting over your ear, his hands roaming your body without shame, rough and possessive, squeezing your tits just enough to pull a gasp from your throat. “please,” you whimpered, voice barely a whisper, your body shaking with both fear and desire. the omega in you screamed to submit, to let them take what they wanted, to give in completely.

jungwon, still on the ground, struggled to his feet, his eyes burning with possessive rage. “get your fucking hands off her, jake,” he snarled, the words dripping with venom as he watched jake’s hands all over you. jake didn’t even flinch. “make me,” he sneered, his grip on you tightening, his eyes still locked on yours. “she’s leaking for me now, jungwon. she wants this.” “no,” jungwon roared, voice cracking with desperation. “she’s mine.” but jake wasn’t listening. he didn’t care. he had you now, and that was all that mattered. his hands were rough, possessive, his body crashing into yours, pinning you down to the floor, the wet stickiness of your arousal clinging to your skin. you could feel the electricity between you, the air buzzing with the raw, untamed energy that threatened to consume you both. the sounds of your moans, his fevered kisses, the desperate way he held you—it all blurred into one chaotic mess of need. jake’s scent wrapped around you, suffocating you in a way that left you dizzy, drowning in him, in everything he wanted from you. jungwon’s helpless cries echoed in the background, his hands clawing toward you, desperate tears welling in his eyes as jealousy burned him alive. “get the fuck off her, jake!” he roared, but it was too late. niki appeared out of nowhere, grabbing jungwon, pulling him back before he could reach you, his own breath ragged, torn between his instincts and the chaos unfolding in front of him. “hyung, stop,” niki’s voice was strained, his body trembling, trying to keep everything from spiraling out of control. niki felt like a tightly wound wire, every muscle on the edge of snapping. he watched the chaos unfolding in front of him, hands twitching at his sides, every instinct screaming at him to step in. but fuck, what was he even supposed to do? his senses were shot, the air thick with pheromones and tension, making him dizzy, making it hard to think straight. his heart pounded, panic clawing at him as he watched it all spiral out of control. jake had you pinned, and you—god, you were suffocating in his scent, the overwhelming musk of him sinking into your skin. your body shook beneath him, the heat from his body swallowing you whole, leaving you gasping, hanging on by a thread. you felt like you were about to break apart.

“you’re a fucking mess,” jake snarled, his voice rough, barely keeping it together as he buried his face into the curve of your neck. “dripping all over yourself for him, but you’re mine. you’re going to be mine.” his words sent a shock of electricity through you, something that shouldn’t have made you shiver, but fuck, you did. and then, like he couldn’t hold back another second, jake groaned, the sound vibrating against your skin as he slipped your shorts to the side, fingers brushing over the soaked fabric of your panties before pulling them down. “fuck, let me taste you,” jake moaned, releasing your wrists and dropping down between your thighs like he was starving for it. his tongue hit your core, messy and filthy, the sound of him lapping at your wetness loud, obscene, and fuck, you couldn’t even care. every flick of his tongue sent sparks shooting through you, your body arching, your fingers digging into the fabric beneath you as you moaned helplessly. the way his tongue flicked over your swollen clit, licking long, slow stripes up your slit, it was like he was trying to claim every part of you with his mouth. you could hear him groaning against your skin, practically drowning in you, his hands gripping your thighs like he never wanted to let go. his hands didn’t hesitate, slipping up your hoodie, fingers grazing over your stomach. he wanted more—wanted to feel everything—but he was too fucking focused on devouring you. jake was losing it, falling apart at the seams as he buried himself between your legs. “shit,” he whimpered, pulling back just enough to breathe. “you taste so fucking good.” you were a mess, panting, barely able to think, to process what the hell was happening. his voice rumbled through you, hitting you somewhere deep. “you gonna let me do whatever i want to this pretty pussy?” he asked, voice shaking with barely contained need. your fingers dug into his shirt, tugging him closer, eyes pleading for him to keep going, keep touching you, keep making you feel. “mhmm,” you managed to choke out, your breath coming fast, chest rising and falling in a desperate rhythm. fuck, he was so good at this, too good, and you were already too far gone. he pressed his face against your neck again, dragging his teeth along your skin, voice hot in your ear as he whispered, “wanna carry my pups? let me pump you full of my seed?” his jaw clenched, trying to stop himself from marking you right then and there, the restraint practically killing him. you nodded frantically, everything inside you screaming yes. fuck yes. his hips ground against you, the rough fabric of his jeans rubbing against your slick skin, the pressure against your clit sending shockwaves of pleasure through you. it was torment, the best kind, and the way he was so desperate, humping against you, made it all the more intense. “yes,” you whimpered, voice cracking, needy, desperate. “i want it, need you inside me. please.” your words were shaky, your body trembling as you begged for him.

jake spread your legs wider, groaning as he took in the sight of you, slick and needy, completely open for him. he was unbuckling his belt, ready to claim you, but before he could go any further, something crashed into him. jay. he grabbed jake in a chokehold, yanking him off you with a growl that echoed through the room. “get the fuck off her, jake!” jay’s voice was rough, shaking with fury and authority, his hands gripping jake’s neck, his body taut with anger. you gasped at the sudden emptiness, the feeling of jake being torn away from you leaving you desperate, aching for more. you didn’t even think—you shoved your fingers between your thighs, sliding them into your soaked folds, your other hand cupping your breast, desperate to replace the pleasure jake had ripped away from you. “fucking let go of me!” jake roared, thrashing in jay’s grip, his voice edged with rage and desperation. “you fuck, let me go!” jay’s face was strained, holding jake back even though the scent of your arousal was fucking with him too. his chest heaved, breath coming in harsh gasps as he fought to keep control, to stay strong despite the way his own body was reacting to you. fuck, he was hard—he could feel the ache in his pants, but he couldn’t give in, not like this. “jake, snap out of it!” jay’s voice wavered, fighting to maintain control as jake struggled beneath him. “this isn’t you. calm the fuck down.” it took everything in jay to ignore the feel of his own hard-on pressing against jake’s back, the scent of your arousal making it impossible to focus. his mind was screaming at him to stop, but his body was betraying him. but you? you were too far gone to care about any of it. fingers buried deep inside yourself, chasing that release you needed so badly, moaning and gasping, too lost in your own pleasure to notice the chaos unfolding around you.

and it was only the first fucking day. jay nearly lost it when he saw you—fingers buried deep inside yourself, fucking yourself right there on the floor, your body open, completely vulnerable. his breath hitched, eyes widening as he watched you, your slick fingers disappearing into your soaked pussy. the wet squelching sounds filled the room, obscene, making his cock twitch painfully in his pants. jesus fuck, she’s putting on a show.

he squeezed his eyes shut for a second, trying to calm the raging hard-on that was killing him, but it didn’t help. the image of you stretched out, fingers pumping into yourself, was burned into his mind. fuck, his thoughts screamed, she’s wide open for the taking.

jake wasn’t handling it any better. “i said let me go!” jake’s voice was thick with desperation, his body jerking in jay’s hold as he tried to break free. “she’s mine!” he growled, voice rough with frustration, rage boiling over.

jay gritted his teeth, dragging jake more forcefully toward the living room, trying to get the situation under control, but his mind was all over the place, especially with you whimpering on the floor like that.

behind them, jungwon was losing it too. his body thrashed in niki’s grip, eyes wild and filled with pure desperation. “let me go, niki. she needs me.”

niki’s face was tight with strain, his voice barely steady. “hyung, please. calm down. you can’t help her like this.” niki’s grip was iron-tight, but jungwon wasn’t making it easy.

jungwon’s vision blurred with frustration, tears stinging his eyes as he caught another glimpse of you—your back arched, your fingers moving frantically, your face flushed with need. “niki, please,” jungwon begged, his voice breaking. “i can’t... i can’t just leave her like that.” his voice was raw, filled with pain, as he fought against niki’s hold.

just as jay was about to drag jake fully out of the room, something caught his eye on the floor—a necklace, shimmering faintly by the bathroom door. his stomach dropped as he realized what it was. “sunghoon, the necklace!” jay’s voice was sharp, cutting through the chaos as he shouted to sunghoon, who had been standing there, frozen in shock, just staring at you.

sunghoon blinked, snapping out of whatever trance he’d been in. “what necklace?” he mumbled, clearly dazed, his eyes flicking between you and the tension-filled scene unfolding around him.

jay growled, frustration bubbling up. “the necklace, sunghoon!” he barked, trying to make himself clear while holding jake back. “it’s designed to dampen her pheromones, you idiot! look for it before we all fucking lose our minds.”

it's like something clicked in sunghoon's mind yet he hesitated, but then he spotted something shimmering in the corner of his eye. there, by the bathroom door. with a curse, he shielded his nose and approached cautiously, the mix of pheromones in the air making his head spin. “fuck... where is it...” he muttered, his movements jerky, barely able to keep his thoughts straight.

even in the middle of all this chaos, sunghoon’s eyes kept drifting back to you—back to the way your body trembled on the floor, the way your eyes pleaded for something, anything. his heart pounded as your scent washed over him, nearly overwhelming his senses.

“i found it,” sunghoon finally called out, his voice shaky as he clutched the necklace tightly in his hand. it felt cool against his skin, but its weight carried so much more than just the metal—it was the one thing that had been keeping everything in control. “now what?”

his eyes fell on the delicate chain, and a sudden realization hit him like a punch in the gut. it was the same kind of necklace his sister would wear, the one that had kept her safe from the pull of alphas when she first hit her heat. a faint memory flashed in his mind—how protective his parents had been, how they’d insisted on her wearing it at all times, just like your father had done with you.

“put it on her!” jay ordered, the desperation in his voice barely contained. sunghoon cursed under his breath, his hands trembling, body shaking with restrained arousal.

with his stomach twisting in frustration, sunghoon forced himself to walk toward you. fuck, you looked like every filthy fantasy he’d ever had come to life, sprawled out on the floor, back arched, fingers buried deep inside yourself. his vision blurred as your scent invaded his lungs, thick and intoxicating, pulling him deeper into the haze.

“oh... you look so good,” sunghoon mumbled under his breath, crouching down next to you. his hands shook as he reached out, barely able to control himself as his fingertips grazed your skin.

your tear-streaked face turned toward him, and you sniffled, your voice trembling. “help me, alpha.” your words were a plea, your fingers still fucking yourself as you reached out for him, your wet fingers brushing against his knuckles.

sunghoon’s resolve nearly shattered right there. fuck. every instinct screamed at him to taste you, to claim you. he wanted to pin you down and lose himself in your scent, in your slick pussy, but he held back. barely. his breath was shaky, heart racing as he forced himself to focus.

“fuck,” he groaned, his hand pressing flat against your stomach. the warmth of your skin burned against his palm, and he bit back the urge to rip your clothes off right there. he wanted to know if you liked the way his alpha musk surrounded you, if you were feeling the same pull.

his eyes raked over your body—your hoodie shoved up, your chest rising and falling with ragged breaths. he imagined fucking you, imagined the way your stomach would bulge with how deep he could go. you’d take him so fucking well.

his voice was low, rough, barely above a whisper as he muttered, “you want it? want me to fill you up, make you mine?” he wasn’t even talking to you at that point—it was more like he was lost in his own head, entranced by the sight of you.

“yes,” you whimpered, your body arching into his touch, reacting to every word he said. “anything... help me.”

his hand trembled, fighting to hold back, his control slipping. “fuck, i want to... i want to so fucking bad,” he admitted, his voice thick with lust.

“sunghoon, what the fuck are you doing?” jay’s voice snapped him out of it, harsh and urgent. “the necklace, dumbass. it’s supposed to stop her pheromones from driving us all fucking insane.”

"i fucking know!" sunghoon clenched his jaw, frustrated as hell, feeling like jay just cockblocked him at the worst possible moment. but he knew he had to do it. fuck, why was it always him stuck with shit like this?

“why do i always get the hard jobs?” sunghoon muttered, resigned, but determined. his hands still shook as he gripped your arm, rolling you onto your side to clasp the necklace around your neck.

the second it clicked into place, your scent dampened, the intensity of it fading just enough that sunghoon could breathe again. he collapsed back on his heels, chest heaving as the haze lifted, the burning arousal still lingering but not as overwhelming.

you went limp in his arms, your body finally giving in, exhaustion pulling you into sleep. sunghoon let out a shaky breath, trying to pull himself together.

sunoo burst into the room, his face a mix of worry and confusion as he looked at your limp form. “let me take her,” sunoo said firmly, lifting you up with gentle hands, carrying you out of the room and settling you on the sofa in the living room.

sunghoon watched him go, his body still trembling, trying to shake off the intensity of what just happened. he hadn’t even realized he’d been holding his breath until heeseung’s hand landed on his shoulder, grounding him.

“you took your fucking time,” sunghoon mumbled, his voice hoarse with exhaustion and frustration.

heeseung smirked, barely fazed. “looked like you had it under control.”

sunghoon glared at him, knowing full well heeseung had been standing there watching, probably enjoying the whole damn show. heeseung always had a way of lurking in the background, and most times, no one could tell what he's really thinking about.

the living room was heavy with tension, thicker than the remnants of your pheromones, even with the necklace doing its job. the hum of the air conditioning was the only noise cutting through the uncomfortable silence. jay leaned against the wall, arms crossed, frustration etched on his face.

“so, have you two idiots calmed down yet?” jay’s voice finally broke the quiet, exasperation lacing every word. jake and jungwon, both looking like they'd just taken a beating, sat slumped on the sofa. neither one could meet jay's eyes. they were too busy staring at you, still asleep, blissfully unaware of the shitstorm they were causing.

jake rubbed a hand over his face, elbows resting on his knees. his eyes stayed glued to you, to the rise and fall of your chest as you slept, completely oblivious to the chaos you'd left in your wake. he swallowed, hard, still tasting the lingering sweetness of your arousal on his tongue.

“never been this pussy-drunk in my life,” jake muttered under his breath, his voice so low it was almost like he didn’t want anyone to hear it—but they did. his usual cocky confidence was nowhere to be found, replaced with a needy, pathetic ache. it pissed him off, but he couldn’t shake it. not when you were right there.

he was always the guy in control, the one alphas and omegas alike fawned over. but you? fuck. you flipped the script, made him feel desperate, like he couldn’t think straight. every memory of the way you smelled, the way you’d whimpered under him, it was still fresh in his mind, and it gnawed at him.

“she’s something else,” jake muttered again, shaking his head like he was trying to snap out of it. “can’t believe how strong her scent is, even with the fucking necklace.”

jay nodded, jaw tight, eyes flickering between you and the others. “we need to get a grip. we’re responsible for her, not just our own goddamn urges,” he growled. “but it’s a fucking kick in the balls that this is how we had to welcome her on her first day.”

“yeah, no shit,” jake muttered, raking a hand through his hair. “i don’t even know her name, and she makes it hard to focus on anything.” he shot a look at sunoo, who sat calmly near you, completely unaffected by the chaos that seemed to have every other alpha by the throat.

“how the fuck are you so calm, sunoo?” jake’s voice dripped with disbelief, and maybe a bit of jealousy. “seriously, what the hell is your secret?”

sunoo just hummed, a small smile playing at his lips, but his eyes stayed cool, detached. “she’s beautiful, no doubt. and her scent? it’s... nice. but it doesn’t drive me crazy like it does you guys.”

the other alphas groaned, frustrated and envious as hell. they wished they could borrow some of sunoo’s calm, bottle it up, and down it like a shot.

“you’re telling me if she begged you to fuck her, you wouldn’t cave?” jake challenged, his voice tinged with desperation. there was no way sunoo was that composed.

sunoo’s smirk widened, his calmness irritating. “i didn’t say that. i wouldn’t say no. but i’m not compelled like you guys are.”

jay rolled his eyes. “always the zen master, huh?” he let out a low chuckle, though his own struggle was clear in his tight posture. “but you’re right. we need to find that control, or we’re all fucked.”

especially me. he thought, his gaze lingering on you. the way you’d been earlier, begging for it, the way you’d let anyone take you—it had him in a chokehold. he’d wanted to knock everyone out, drag you off, and make you his. but he couldn’t admit that. not yet.

jake let out a low groan, eyes dark with something that burned hotter than frustration. “you have no idea how good she is, though. her scent, her body... fuck, her heat.” he rubbed the back of his neck, feeling the other alphas’ eyes on him. “i ate her out, kissed her. full-on, tongue-down-her-throat shit.”

jay shot him a look, a flicker of jealousy crossing his face despite how much he tried to hide it. “we’re all affected, jake. it’s not just you.” he turned to jungwon, who had been eerily quiet, his gaze fixed on the floor like he couldn’t even process what happened.

“jungwon, what about you? you vanished earlier.”

niki chimed in, curiosity laced in his voice. “yeah, hyung, you weren't yourself.”

jungwon sighed, rubbing his temples, looking as lost as the rest of them. “i don’t know. i’ve never been like this. i went in because i was curious... and then, next thing i knew, i was trying to break down her bathroom door.” his voice cracked with the memory, his hands clenching into fists.

“i know how you feel,” jake said, his frustration barely contained. “the moment i got close to her, it was like her scent wrapped around me, and i couldn’t breathe. i had to get to her.”

jungwon’s jaw tightened, his voice sharp. “but you got to her first, jake. you always do.”

jake stepped closer, his voice lowering into a growl. “what are you trying to say, jungwon? that i shouldn’t have? that i should’ve let you?”

jungwon’s emotions boiled over, barely making sense in his own head. “i’m saying,” he spat, “that i lost control for the first time in my life. do you know what that’s like? i was fucking crying because i couldn’t handle it.”

niki, who had been listening closely, stepped in. “i think we’re all just exhausted from work, plus, this whole situation is insane. that’s why we’re all losing our shit.”

heeseung, who had been quiet, watching everything unfold, finally spoke. “it’s not like you to be aggressive,” he looked at jungwon, his voice softer. “but this stuff happens.”

heeseung, for all his calmness, wasn’t unaffected. he could still smell your scent clinging to the air, and god, it made him jealous. he hadn’t gotten as close as jake or jungwon, but the moment he caught a whiff of you, he knew. he wanted you.

but he wouldn’t let it show. not yet. not when he could watch his members lose their cool, spiraling, while he waited for the perfect opportunity.

jungwon sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair. “the moment i stepped into her room, it was over. i was completely fucked.”

heeseung’s eyes narrowed as he watched jungwon carefully, always calculating, always watching. competition. he could feel it brewing. but he wasn’t worried. not yet.

“thanks for stepping in, jake,” jungwon finally muttered, though there was an edge to his voice. “even if you got to her first.”

jake shook his head, his voice earnest. “i’m sorry, man. i didn’t mean to. i just... lost control. it was a heat-of-the-moment thing.”

jungwon nodded, the tension between them easing just a little. “yeah, i get it.”

sunghoon, who had been quiet until now, broke the moment with a chuckle. “jake, you even licked the spot where she was sitting.”

jake groaned, burying his face in his hands, his embarrassment clear.

“we all lost control,” jay said, eyes softening as he looked at you, still fast asleep on the sofa. “but we need to be better. we owe her an apology when she wakes up.”

they all nodded, the reality of what had happened settling over them. it was time to pull themselves together. no more losing control. no more giving in.

jungwon leaned back against the sofa, eyes closed, but his mind was far from resting. the exhaustion was real, but your voice—soft, needy, calling his name—echoed in his thoughts, gnawing at him. he couldn’t stop replaying it. the desperation in your tone, the way you’d looked at him, had done something to him, and it was driving him crazy.

sunghoon’s tone shifted, snapping him out of his thoughts. “good thing jay noticed she had a suppressor.”

sunghoon might’ve sounded casual, but his thoughts? they were far from innocent. he couldn’t stop thinking about how you’d begged him earlier, how your eyes, full of need, had almost made him lose control. the way you’d pleaded for his touch—it sent shivers down his spine even now. fuck, he’d wanted you so bad.

he envied jake’s boldness. if only he had been the one to taste you first. your scent was still in his head, lingering like a ghost, reminding him of what could’ve been.

jay’s voice pulled him back to the present. “looks like you know more about it, hoon. the necklace.”

"i know 'cause my sister has one too. it’s like an iud."

"what is an iud?" niki asked, his brow furrowed as he glanced around, clearly confused by the term.

sunghoon chuckled softly, leaning back against the couch. "it’s a birth control thing," he explained casually. "a little device they put in so people don’t get pregnant."

niki’s eyes widened slightly, and he tilted his head, still not entirely sure how it worked. "wait, they put it where?"

sunghoon smirked, a teasing glint in his eyes. "in the uterus, genius."

"oh, damn," niki muttered, clearly thrown off by the explanation. "that sounds... intense."

"yeah," sunghoon replied, shaking his head lightly. "but it’s not the same as what y/n’s necklace does. hers just messes with the pheromones, like keeping everything under control. it’s not exactly birth control, but kinda similar in that it’s stopping something natural from happening."

"wait, seriously?" niki blurted out, still processing the idea.

sunghoon nodded, his tone more serious now. "yeah. it’s a pretty strong compound in the metal that reacts to sweat and pheromones. but over time, it wears out, just like anything else."

jay nodded. “yeah. her scent being this potent means her pheromones are off the charts. we need to be extra cautious.”

niki, ever observant, caught how jay was standing—arms crossed, feet shifting nervously, leaning against the wall like he didn’t trust himself to get any closer to you. niki smirked, holding back a laugh. “hyung, you look awkward. feeling it too?”

jay glanced at you, his usually cool expression faltering for a moment. “i’d be shocked if anyone wasn’t affected,” he muttered, turning his gaze to heeseung, who had been unusually quiet.

heeseung’s eyes were fixed on you, his mind elsewhere. “i actually called management earlier. asked if there’d been some sort of mistake.”

jay’s curiosity piqued. “and?”

heeseung sighed, running a hand through his hair. “no mistake. she was assigned to us. a special recommendation.”

“they threw a rabbit into a den of wolves,” heeseung muttered under his breath, frustration clear in his tone.

jay tried to crack a smile, lighten the mood. “should we be happy or scared?”

jake’s voice cut in, sharp and careless. “can we fuck her, though?” the question hung heavy in the air, met with incredulous stares.

“seriously, jake?” sunoo snapped, his eyes darting between you, fast asleep on the couch, and jake. “she’s lying there, completely vulnerable, and that’s where your head’s at?”

jake shrugged, defensive. “come on, i know you guys are thinking it too,” he muttered, though a flicker of doubt crossed his face.

sunghoon clenched his jaw, his voice strained. “we’re supposed to protect her, not take advantage of her.” but even as the words left his mouth, the intrusive thoughts crept in—what it would feel like to claim you, to give in. he balled his fists, trying to keep his instincts in check, but the urge gnawed at him.

the necklace dulled your scent, but fuck, it didn’t stop the fantasies from crawling into his mind.

sunoo, calm as ever, moved towards you, lifting your delicate frame into his arms effortlessly. “where are you taking her?” sunghoon’s voice was laced with envy, watching sunoo carry you like it was nothing.

“i’m going to give her a bath, then tuck her in,” sunoo replied, matter-of-factly. “and no, i’m not going to do anything inappropriate.” his tone was firm, but he couldn’t help the flicker of temptation that crossed his mind. he had to remind himself to focus. you were their responsibility now.

as sunoo walked toward your room, the others watched him, a mix of frustration and admiration playing on their faces. they all knew sunoo was the best one for the job, the least affected by your pheromones. but still, it stung that he seemed so damn unaffected, while they were all barely hanging on.

“hey, sunoo, wait,” jake called after him, his voice a mix of concern and something more. “i need to ask you something.”

sunoo paused, turning back. “what is it?”

jake hesitated, his voice quieter now. “how do you stay so calm around her? it’s like you’re not even affected.”

sunoo chuckled softly, adjusting his grip on you. “i'm not a saint, jake. of course i'm affected, i’m just trying to focus on what matters.”

“but her scent…” jake admitted, running a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated.

sunoo nodded, understanding. “it’s tough for all of us, hyung. but we have to be stronger than our instincts.”

jake sighed, nodding. “you’re right. it’s just… hard to keep it together.”

sunoo gave him a small smile before continuing down the hall, carrying you toward your room. jake watched him go, a mix of admiration and frustration bubbling inside him.

how the fuck does he do it?

the rest of the members sat in silence, watching the exchange, knowing they were all fighting the same battle. they were trying to control themselves, trying to be better, but it was a constant struggle. and it wasn’t getting any easier with you around.

“we need to set some ground rules,” jungwon finally said, his voice firm. “no one is to be alone with her unless absolutely necessary. and if anyone feels like they’re about to lose it, speak up.”

everyone nodded, the weight of the day’s events pressing down on them. the reality of living with you was sinking in, and it was going to be a test of their control and boundaries. one they hadn’t anticipated.

as they began to unpack their things, each of them wrestled with their own thoughts, their own desires. they had crossed lines today, and now they owed it to you—and themselves—to make amends.

it was time to figure out how to move forward.

they needed to apologize.

you stirred awake, a soft groan slipping from your lips as you stretched, the weight of sleep still hanging heavy on your body. last night was a blur—a chaotic mix of sensations, overwhelming scents, and a vulnerability that still lingered in your chest. as you shifted under the covers, you winced at the uncomfortable stickiness between your thighs. fuck. you were still covered in your own juices, the tackiness clinging to your skin, a reminder of just how wild things had gotten.

heat crept up your neck as bits of memory floated back—the way their scents had engulfed you, how your body had betrayed you, craving their touch. you surrendered to it, to that primal pull, knowing damn well it wasn’t just their pheromones driving you mad. you were an omega, after all, this was your nature. but fuck, you thought, it went way too far.

and yet, beneath the embarrassment, there was something else. a weird sense of power. they had struggled to keep control, they were the ones lost in you. yeah, you were vulnerable, but you weren’t helpless. you were their housemother now, and you were gonna be good at it, no matter what kind of messy shit last night had brought.

sitting up, you winced again, the sticky reminder between your legs making your face burn. god, what a fucking disaster. seven alphas, all practically losing their minds over you. it had felt intoxicating and terrifying at the same time.

with a sigh, you pushed yourself out of bed, cringing at the way your legs felt weak, the dried remnants of last night clinging to your thighs. the bathroom was your refuge, the cool water washing away the mess, but even then, the faint scent of your arousal still lingered. great, that’s not going anywhere, you thought, scrubbing your skin until you felt a little more like yourself.

you weren’t just some omega to be played with, no matter how much your body had craved it. you were their housemother. and you were determined to remind them of that.

fresh clothes, something simple but made you feel in control. you took a deep breath, squaring your shoulders before stepping out of the bathroom, the murmur of voices drifting through the door. there was laughter, but it was tense, the kind that tries to cut through something heavier.

when you walked into the living room, the conversation cut off immediately. their eyes snapped to you, and the surprise in their faces was almost comical. they didn’t expect this. they probably thought you’d still be in bed, embarrassed, maybe hiding from them after last night. but you stood tall, chin up, determined not to let them see any weakness.

“morning, boys,” you greeted, your voice steady. their wide eyes and gaping jaws made you want to smirk. clearly, they hadn’t expected this kind of confidence from you.

the room stayed quiet, all of them exchanging looks, trying to figure out how to react. a smirk tugged at your lips, amusement flickering in your eyes. good. they needed to know you weren’t a pushover.

“i hope you’re all ready for a new day,” you said, your tone firm but calm, taking control of the room. “and i think it’s time for proper introductions.”

jake was the first to recover, a sly grin spreading across his face as he leaned back. “good morning to you too, bunny,” he teased, the nickname meant to rile you up. it worked.

jungwon’s eyes narrowed at jake. that was his nickname for you, and jake knew it. “you’re lucky you’re still alive after last night,” jungwon grumbled under his breath, clearly irritated.

“name’s niki,” another voice chimed in, and you turned to see niki lounging on the sofa, smirking like he’d known you forever. “honestly thought we’d need to call an exorcist or something with the way things got.” his casual tone was an attempt to make you feel more comfortable, but there was a teasing edge to it.

you chuckled, shaking your head. “yeah, well, turns out i’m tougher than i look. name’s y/n, by the way.” your smile widened. “nice to officially meet everyone.”

jungwon’s voice was softer now, a little embarrassed. “i’m jungwon. glad to see you’re okay.” he rubbed the back of his neck, clearly still trying to process everything.

you arched an eyebrow at him, a teasing glint in your eyes. “i’m surprised you didn’t break down my bathroom door, jungwon. you were pretty determined.”

his face flushed crimson. “yeah… about that,” he stammered, looking down at the floor. “i don’t know what came over me.”

“makes sense why only your door’s made of metal. it’s to help during your heat-cycle, right?” jay chimed in, a thoughtful look on his face as he nodded toward your bedroom door.

you nodded, a small smile playing on your lips. “yeah, so i don’t accidentally cause… well, this.” you gestured to the room full of alphas still trying to reel themselves in from last night. jay grinned, introducing himself, and you nodded, chuckling. “don’t worry, i already know who you all are. they briefed me before i came.”

“figured,” jay said, flashing a bright smile.

heeseung was next, his eyes filled with a mix of concern and something else. “we’re really sorry about what happened yesterday,” he said, his voice soft, almost hesitant. “but you should try not to take off your necklace… so i don’t end up doing something you wouldn’t want me to.” the way he said it had the room freezing for a second.

the others tensed, their eyes darting toward heeseung, irritation flickering in their expressions. jake snorted, clearly annoyed. “oh, so you’re the responsible one now?” his voice dripped with sarcasm.

jungwon shot heeseung a glare. “yeah, because you’re the only one who needs to ‘be careful,’ right?”

sunghoon rolled his eyes, arms crossed over his chest. “since when did you turn into the knight in shining armor? i thought we all agreed we’d look out for her.”

heeseung raised his hands, smirk still lingering. “i’m just saying. someone’s gotta make sure we don’t all lose our heads.”

jay snorted. “you’re one to talk. i saw the way you were looking at her last night.”

“jealous much?” heeseung teased, though the tension was real now, thick in the air.

the bickering had your heart racing. they were all vying for your attention, and while it was overwhelming, it was also strangely satisfying.

you laughed softly, shaking your head. “you’re all ridiculous.” their eyes snapped back to you, their gazes softening a little. “but i appreciate the concern. let’s just try not to kill each other, alright?”

they all nodded, albeit reluctantly, the tension easing slightly. they knew they had to find a way to navigate this new dynamic. whatever had happened last night, you were the one keeping them from losing it completely. you weren’t just a pretty face or a tempting scent—you were the one holding them together, and they were starting to realize that.

“we’re lucky to have you,” sunoo said, his voice calm and genuine, making the others nod in agreement.

as the room settled into a strange calm, you stood tall, confidence radiating from you. sure, last night had been a mess, but you had a grip on it now. they might be alphas, but you were the one in charge here. and you weren’t going to let them forget it.

as the weeks passed, you settled into your role as housemother to the seven alphas with surprising ease. that initial tension from the wild encounter with jake and jungwon still simmered beneath the surface, but you focused on weaving connections with each of them. it was clear from the start that if this was going to work, you’d need to build strong bonds, and not just manage the household.

you began your mornings by waking early to prepare breakfast, the scent of food quickly luring them into the kitchen one by one. jake was always the first, his bedhead messy, eyes sleepy but lighting up the moment he saw you. he leaned against the counter, watching you as you moved around the kitchen with ease, his gaze always a little too attentive, lingering on you like you were his personal sunrise.

“morning, y/n,” he’d say, voice still heavy with sleep but edged with warmth. it became a ritual between you two. there was something about the way he said your name, slow and playful, that never failed to make your pulse quicken.

“morning, jake. sleep well?” you’d reply, shooting him a glance over your shoulder as you worked.

he would grin, leaning in just a little too close, his voice low. “better now that i get to see you first thing,” he’d say with that smirk that made it hard to roll your eyes, even though you always tried.

jungwon, however, was quieter, more reserved. he’d drift into the kitchen after jake, silently helping where he could, usually at the sink, scrubbing dishes. but you noticed the way his fingers would brush yours, just slightly too often to be a coincidence. it was the small moments with him, the silent exchanges.

“thank you for breakfast,” he’d mumble, his voice quiet but full of something more than just politeness.

“anytime, jungwon,” you’d reply softly, and for a moment, it felt like you were the only two people in the room, the tension lingering until the next person barged in.

then there was niki. always up to something, he’d sneak up behind you, trying to steal bites of food off your plate or straight from the pan, all while wearing that mischievous grin that he knew would make you laugh. but his antics, innocent as they seemed, were often followed by lingering glances that felt far more intentional.

“play a game with me,” he’d say, flashing that boyish smile that made it impossible to say no, even though you knew he was just trying to see you flustered.

sunghoon, on the other hand, was always watching from the sidelines, his gaze intense but quiet. you’d catch him looking at you from across the room when he thought no one was paying attention. his quiet presence always seemed to fill the space around you, and though he rarely said much, when he did, it was always with a softness that surprised you.

“if you need anything, just let me know,” he’d offer, voice low, the sincerity in his eyes clear, but there was always an edge to his words, like he was waiting for something, a moment when you’d turn to him.

jay was the complete opposite—always vocal about how much he admired you. you couldn’t escape the constant compliments. whether it was about how you organized the kitchen or how you handled the laundry, he made sure you knew you were appreciated.

“you’re incredible, you know that?” he’d say, leaning back on the couch after you’d tidied up the living room, his gaze warm but playful.

“i’m just doing my job,” you’d deflect, but the look in his eyes made it clear he thought you were doing more than just your job.

heeseung, though, was the hardest to figure out. he flirted openly, always testing the boundaries, his words dripping with suggestion even when his actions didn’t follow through. there was something about the way he looked at you that made you feel like he could see right through your attempts to stay composed.

“you should be careful,” he’d whisper one evening as he passed by, his voice low, teasing, but with enough edge to make you pause. “or i might just lose control.”

sunoo was different—sweet, affectionate, but with an authority that kept the others in line. he’d join you in the evenings, chatting casually, his arm casually draped over the back of your chair, always leaning just a little too close, but never pushing too far. his presence was soothing, but you could tell even he wasn’t immune to the pull you seemed to have on them all.

“you’re doing great, y/n,” he’d say, smiling softly, though his eyes betrayed a deeper appreciation.

as the days turned into weeks, the tension between you and the alphas became less about control and more about the unspoken connection that was building between all of you. they became more protective, more possessive, even in the smallest of ways. jay would always make sure you weren’t lifting anything too heavy, jungwon would hover around after meals as if waiting for a reason to help, and jake was always right there, keeping you company, offering small touches or playful remarks that kept your heart racing.

they were watching, and they cared more deeply than any of them probably wanted to admit. but you could feel it, the way they gravitated toward you, the way their eyes lingered a little too long, the way their teasing never really felt all that casual. and even though it made things complicated, there was a thrill in it, knowing you held their attention in a way that went beyond simple attraction.

the day they won first place on the chart was electric, the house buzzing with excitement and pride as the alphas celebrated in the living room. laughter and cheers filled the air, the atmosphere brimming with energy as they reveled in their success. you stood to the side, watching it all unfold with a proud smile on your face, genuinely happy for them. but as they decided to go live on weverse to share the moment with their fans, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off.

as the live broadcast started, you noticed a shift. their smiles were still there, but they seemed a little forced. their laughter, normally so carefree, sounded just a bit strained. it was subtle at first, easy to miss if you weren’t paying close attention, but the longer you watched, the more apparent it became. something was wrong.

it hit you all at once—your scent. it had been subtle before, controlled by the necklace you wore to suppress your pheromones, but now it was filling the room. shit. your heart skipped a beat as you realized what was happening. your heat was starting, and the necklace wasn’t doing its job as well as you’d thought.

heeseung was the first to falter. sitting on the couch, his hand gripped the back of it tightly, his knuckles white. he was trying to focus on the screen in front of him, reading comments, but you could see the strain in his face. his eyes flicked to you for just a second too long, and that’s when you knew he was struggling.

“are you okay?” one of the fans asked in the chat, their concern flashing across the screen.

heeseung forced a smile, his voice tight as he responded. “yeah, just… a little hot in here, that’s all.” but the way his eyes lingered on you betrayed him, the usual calm and collected demeanor slipping.

you swallowed hard, suddenly feeling very conscious of the heat rising in your body, the way your skin tingled. your mind raced as you wondered why the necklace wasn’t working like it should. had you taken it off too long that morning? was it faulty? you could feel it, the pull it had on the room, the way the alphas were all reacting, each in their own way.

jake, sitting closest to the camera, kept shifting in his seat, his leg bouncing nervously. he was trying so hard to stay focused on the live, reading out comments, his voice casual, but his eyes kept darting to you. his usual laid-back confidence was cracking, and you could feel the intensity of his gaze, the way he was practically staring bullets into you. there was no mistaking it—he was smelling your arousal, and it was driving him mad.

jungwon wasn’t faring any better. his jaw was clenched so tightly you thought he might crack a tooth, his shoulders tense, fingers gripping the edge of the couch as he fought to keep his composure. his eyes, usually so soft when he looked at you, were dark now, clouded with something deeper, something primal.

niki’s carefree demeanor had vanished. the youngest of the group, he sat unusually still, his eyes flicking between the camera and you, his lips pressed into a thin line. he wasn’t laughing, wasn’t cracking jokes like he normally would. instead, he seemed to be barely holding it together, his hands gripping his thighs like he was trying to ground himself, keep from doing something reckless.

sunghoon looked like he was ready to bolt. every few minutes, he’d glance toward the door, his body rigid as if he was debating whether to stay or flee. he was always the quiet one, the observer, but now he looked like he was moments away from losing control.

jay was the only one who seemed to be trying to mask it, his fingers scrolling through the live chat, pretending to focus on the fans’ comments. but you could see the tension in his shoulders, the way his grip on the phone tightened with every minute that passed. he kept throwing you glances, his expression unreadable, though the way his eyes lingered on you told you everything. he wanted you too.

sunoo, sitting beside jay, seemed to be the only one holding it together, but even he wasn’t entirely unaffected. his usual bright smile was still there, though a little more strained than usual. he helped jay read through the live chat, his voice light and teasing, but you could see the way his eyes flicked to you every so often, his control slipping for just a second before he pulled himself back. unlike the others, sunoo had a way of masking his emotions, keeping the tension at bay. but even now, you could feel the weight of his restraint, how much effort it was taking for him to stay composed while the air around you all grew thicker with every passing second. he nudged jay playfully at one of the fan comments, trying to keep things light, but even that small touch seemed to make jay’s jaw tighten. sunoo was doing his best to help distract him, it was clear that the room was suffocating them all, the scent of your arousal filling the space and gnawing at their control. the live finally ended, and as soon as the cameras were off, the air in the room became suffocating. the tension that had been bubbling beneath the surface during the broadcast now rose to a boiling point. no one was speaking, but their reactions were all too clear. they were trying to act normal, but you could feel the weight of their struggle. they were holding on by a thread, and you were the reason why. heeseung was the first to break the silence, his voice low, almost strained. “that was close.”

“too close,” jake muttered, his leg still bouncing restlessly as he ran a hand through his hair. his eyes flicked to you, filled with frustration and need, and for a moment, you thought he might say something else, but he just clenched his jaw and looked away.

jungwon stood abruptly, his fingers still flexing like he was trying to shake off the tension. “we should… take a breather.” his voice was clipped, tight, and he moved toward the door, but not without a quick, burning glance in your direction.

niki let out a heavy breath, shifting in his seat before muttering, “yeah, good idea.” he looked at you for just a second before following jungwon, his expression unreadable.

sunghoon stood as well, his movements stiff, and for a moment, you thought he might bolt out the door without another word. but he stopped, turning back to you, his voice low and soft. “we’ll, uh… we’ll give you some space.”

as the others filed out of the room, jay lingered for a second, his phone still in his hand, but his eyes were fixed on you. he didn’t say anything, just watched you, his expression conflicted, like he wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words. finally, he sighed and followed the others out.

once the door closed behind them, you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. the room felt impossibly still now, the weight of your heat settling over you like a blanket. your body felt hot, too hot, and you pressed a hand to your chest, trying to calm your racing heart.

shit, you thought, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath. this was bad. you hadn’t expected it to come on so suddenly, hadn’t expected the necklace to fail so spectacularly. you could feel the pull now, the way your body was reacting, the way your mind was clouding with thoughts you knew you shouldn’t be having.

once the door clicked shut behind them, the alphas filed into the hallway, tension hanging thick in the air like an electric charge. they hadn’t spoken a word since leaving the living room, but the silence was deafening, every one of them keenly aware of the other’s struggle.

jungwon was the first to snap. “what the hell was that?” he ran a hand through his hair, pacing up and down the hallway, his jaw tight, trying to shake off the lingering heat that had settled over him. his chest heaved with frustration, his fists clenched at his sides as if he was trying to restrain himself from going back in there.

jake leaned against the wall, eyes screwed shut as he tried to calm his breathing. “i don’t fucking know, man. but her scent—it’s so much stronger now. it’s like i can’t breathe without wanting to—” he cut himself off, biting down hard on his lip, trying not to finish that sentence.

sunghoon let out a low groan, slamming his fist lightly against the wall. “well, the necklace ain't doing shit.” he exhaled sharply, shifting uncomfortably as he adjusted his pants, the obvious strain beneath them making it clear that he was losing control.

“i couldn’t even sit there without feeling like i was gonna snap,” niki admitted, his voice low, almost embarrassed. he wasn’t used to feeling like this—so helpless against his own instincts. “i don’t know how much longer i can take it.”

jay was standing off to the side, trying to hide the fact that his entire body was tense, his fingers twitching as he clenched and unclenched his fists. his usual calm demeanor was gone, replaced with a mix of agitation and desire that he could barely contain. “i was reading the comments like my life depended on it,” he muttered, his voice rough with frustration. “but i kept fucking looking at her, and i couldn’t stop. she smells so…” he trailed off, his expression tight with barely contained want.

heeseung, who had been silent the whole time, finally spoke up, his voice low and serious. “we need to figure something out. this isn’t sustainable. we can’t all just keep… reacting like this.”

jake, still leaning against the wall, scoffed. “what do you suggest? getting an omega to help us out or something?” his words were sharp, sarcastic, but the desperation in his voice was clear. he knew they needed a solution, and fast, but the idea of bringing in someone else made his stomach churn.

jungwon shook his head, his expression hard. “a different omega? that won’t help.” his voice was filled with conviction, though it was clear he wasn’t exactly sure why.

sunoo nodded from where he was leaning against the wall, arms crossed. “we’d just be pissed off, because it’s not her.”

they all exchanged glances, the unspoken truth hanging in the air. the thought of another omega in the house, trying to help them, wasn’t even remotely appealing. in fact, it made them uncomfortable, like their bodies had already decided that it was you, or nothing.

jay groaned, tilting his head back to stare at the ceiling. “this is so fucked up.”

“i know,” sunghoon muttered, rubbing the back of his neck, his voice was strained, like he was on the verge of losing control. “just the thought of a different omega isn't doing it for me.” he paused, his frustration evident as he struggled to explain. "it’s like… i haven’t even thought about anyone else since meeting her."

the weight of sunghoon’s admission hit hard, and it was clear from the way the others reacted—small shifts, tense shoulders—that they felt the same way.

niki let out a frustrated breath, running a hand over his face. “so, what are we supposed to do?”

heeseung finally broke the silence, his voice low and calm, though his eyes were dark with intensity. “we need to keep our distance. for now. she’s going into heat, and we’re already close to breaking. if we don’t handle this right, we’ll lose control.”

jake narrowed his eyes, still fidgeting as he tried to adjust the tightness in his pants. “and then what? wait it out?”

“exactly,” heeseung said firmly. “we wait it out. keep busy. stay away from her until this passes.”

jungwon looked skeptical, shaking his head. “you think it’s that easy? just ignore it?”

“no,” heeseung admitted. “but it’s better than the alternative. we can’t risk…” his voice trailed off, and he didn’t need to finish. they all knew what the risk was. one wrong move, one moment of weakness, and they’d all lose control.

jake pushed off the wall, his jaw clenched. “fine. but it’s not going to be easy. she smells like—” he cut himself off again, groaning in frustration.

“like heaven,” sunghoon muttered under his breath, not even trying to hide the strain in his voice.

jay let out a bitter laugh. “heaven? more like fucking hell.”

they all fell silent again, each one of them caught in their own struggle, their thoughts consumed by the scent of you, the pull you had on them, and the storm that was coming.

the tension in the hallway was thick, the silence dragging on too long. finally, it was niki who spoke up, his voice cutting through the heavy atmosphere. “okay, so... is no one gonna talk about the fact that we’re all losing our shit over her? like, all of us?”

he looked around at the others, his eyes wide with disbelief. the realization started to settle, the full weight of it hanging over them like a cloud. jake let out a low chuckle, though there wasn’t much humor in it.

“fuck, you’re right. when the hell have we ever all gone this crazy over one omega?” he shook his head, rubbing a hand over his face, still trying to ease the tension in his body. “i don’t know what’s worse—the fact that we’re all in the same boat, or that none of us can seem to control it.”

jungwon scoffed, leaning against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest. “i’ve never seen any of you react this way. hell, i’ve never reacted this way.” his jaw tightened, frustration clear in his voice. “we don’t even share like this. since when do alphas not lose their shit over the idea of another alpha getting close to an omega they want?”

jake shot him a look, smirking despite the tension. “yeah, especially you, jungwon. always acting like you don’t need anyone. now look at you.”

jungwon glared at him, his cheeks flushing with irritation. “shut up. like you’re any better. you practically have your tongue hanging out whenever she walks by.”

sunghoon let out a low laugh, shaking his head. “he’s not wrong, jake. you were barely keeping it together earlier. i thought you were gonna lose it on the live.”

“like you weren’t ready to bolt the second it ended,” jake shot back, clearly defensive. “you looked like you were about to run for your life.”

sunghoon rolled his eyes. “at least i didn’t sit there practically drooling in front of the fans.”

jay snorted, unable to hold back a laugh. “drooling? sunghoon, you were gripping your seat so hard i thought you were gonna rip the cushion in half.”

heeseung, who had been watching the back-and-forth in silence, finally spoke up. “alright, enough. the real question is... when the fuck have any of us been this affected by the same omega?” his eyes flicked between each of them, waiting for someone to come up with an answer.

sunoo, who had been quiet for a while, spoke up next, his expression thoughtful. “yeah, it’s weird. alphas don’t like sharing. it’s instinct. like, we’re all losing our minds, but none of us have tried to rip each other’s throats out yet.”

jake perked up, sitting straighter as he looked at jungwon. “wait, what about our fight the other day? we almost lost it.” jungwon, who had been sitting stiffly, nodded.

but sunoo, ever the voice of reason, raised a hand, cutting through the rising tension. “that doesn’t count, hyung. all you did was pin jungwon down. no punches, no real blood. you didn’t actually go for him.” he shrugged, a small, knowing smile tugging at his lips. “you could’ve done a lot worse. you didn’t. you both held back.”

the room fell silent again as they all considered sunoo’s words. it was true—if this had been any other situation, they’d have been at each other’s throats by now.

“okay, but seriously,” jake chimed in, his brow furrowing as the weight of what sunoo said sank in. “when has there ever been a time where we’ve all felt like this for the same omega?” his voice grew more intense, frustration creeping in. “our types have always been different. we don’t even like the same omega scents—sunghoon goes for those citrusy ones, heeseung’s always been into something muskier, and i usually go for something floral. so why the hell is this vanilla scent driving all of us insane?”

he wasn’t wrong. vanilla wasn’t something any of them would normally be drawn to, but your scent... it was like nothing they’d ever encountered before. it was subtle, almost too soft to be overpowering, and yet, it lingered, wrapping around them like a quiet storm they couldn’t escape from. it was simple, unassuming, but it hit all of them just right in a way that felt impossible to explain.

sunghoon nodded, rubbing the back of his neck. “never. that’s what’s weird about it. plus, when’s the last time we had an omega who actually... i don’t know... cared for us? like, properly?” his voice was quieter now, more introspective.

a heavy pause settled over the group as they all thought about it. none of them could come up with an answer. omegas came and went in their lives—brief, fleeting encounters driven by instinct, desire, or convenience. but the thought of someone genuinely caring for them, being there for them like you had been since day one? it was new. and they hadn’t even realized how much they needed it until now.

jungwon nodded, his expression softening. “i didn’t even realize it, but yeah. she’s been cooking, making sure we’re okay. she makes things feel... stable.”

jake laughed, though it was more out of disbelief than amusement. “and here we are, totally losing our minds because we finally have someone who actually gives a shit about us.”

“but is that it?” niki piped up, glancing around at the others. “i mean, do we… actually like her? or is it just her scent messing with our heads?”

the question lingered in the air, none of them wanted to admit that the scent could be part of it, that maybe this pull toward you wasn’t entirely genuine.

“it’s possible,” sunghoon muttered, though he sounded unsure. “i mean, yeah, the physical stuff’s a big part of it, but… she’s been here for us, even when she didn’t have to be.”

niki frowned, clearly still trying to make sense of it. “but how do we know it’s not just her scent making us feel that way? maybe we’re just reacting to her because of the heat, not because we actually care.”

sunoo sighed, his brow furrowed as he thought about it. “that’s the hard part, isn’t it? we can’t really separate the two. her scent’s a part of who she is, but it’s not everything. we’ve been around her long enough to know there’s more to it than that.”

the silence stretched on, thicker than before, until jungwon finally muttered, “this can’t be normal, right? i mean, an omega at best can only bond with one alpha.” his voice was low, almost like he was testing the idea aloud, unsure of what to make of it himself. the rest of them exchanged glances, the weight of his words sinking in.

“yeah,” sunghoon added, his brows furrowing in confusion. “once an omega bonds, their scent changes, locks onto the alpha they’re bonded to. it shouldn’t be affecting all of us like this. and it definitely shouldn’t feel like... this.”

the room grew tense again, the realization that something was off settling over them. jake, still leaning against the wall, crossed his arms over his chest, his eyes narrowed in thought. “so why the hell are we all reacting like this? one of us should’ve scented her stronger than the rest by now, right? the way scenting works… shouldn’t one alpha be dominant over the others?” there was frustration in his voice, like he was grappling with something beyond his control.

niki sighed, running a hand through his hair. “yeah, that’s what’s supposed to happen. but none of us are being pushed out by the others. and that’s—" he paused, clearly baffled by the whole thing. "—that’s not normal.”

jay, who had been fidgeting earlier, finally spoke. “every time i smell her, i feel like i want to—" he cut himself off, shaking his head. "you know, but i don’t feel like killing any of you for it.”

they all exchanged glances, a mix of concern and bewilderment settling in. the silence stretched until heeseung finally spoke, his voice low and cautious, as if he was debating whether to say what was on his mind. "i’ve heard of something like this before," he admitted, his tone quiet but drawing immediate attention. all eyes turned toward him, curiosity and surprise flashing in their gazes. jake was the first to react, pushing off the wall and crossing his arms over his chest. “wait, what do you mean you’ve heard of this before? why didn’t you mention it earlier?” heeseung shrugged, his face serious. “because i’m not sure. i’ve read about it, but it’s rare. i didn’t think it could actually be happening here, but now... i’m starting to wonder.” he paused, running a hand through his hair, clearly mulling over the thought. “but i need to ask someone about it first, make sure i’m not jumping to conclusions.” jake, ever the one to want answers right away, raised an eyebrow. “you’re gonna ask yuki, right? if anyone would know, it’s him.” heeseung shot jake a sharp look, shaking his head quickly. “are you an idiot? i can’t ask yuki. he’ll get suspicious. you think i’m gonna bring up something like this and not raise red flags? nah, we’ll keep this to ourselves for now. yuki’s the last person i want asking questions about what’s going on here.” the room fell into silence again as everyone processed what heeseung was saying. they all knew he was right. mentioning something like this to yuki would immediately make him suspicious, and the last thing any of them wanted was for someone to start digging into whatever was happening between them and you. “so what do we do then?” jungwon asked, his voice quieter than before, but there was an edge of curiosity there, something that hinted he wasn’t entirely against the idea of finding out what was going on. heeseung leaned back, crossing his arms as he looked at the others. “for now, we don’t do anything except be grateful that we aren’t mauling each other. whatever this is... it’s keeping us from fighting. and that’s... a good thing. we should focus on that.”

"that's that, but how do we actually deal with the real problem? we all want her," jake repeated, his voice a little firmer now, the tension clear in his words. he wasn’t backing down, and it was clear none of them could avoid the truth any longer. jungwon shifted in his seat, his jaw tightening. "yeah, no shit. but wanting her and doing something about it are two different things. we can’t all just... make a move, right?" sunoo sighed, running a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated. "but that’s the problem. we’re all thinking about it."

"and we all know how this ends if we don’t figure it out," sunghoon added, his voice calm but serious. "one of us is gonna snap eventually. it’s only a matter of time."

heeseung, who had been quietly listening, finally spoke up, his voice thoughtful. "it’s not just about who wants her. we need to think about what she wants. if we all go at her, that’s gonna mess things up. the last thing she needs is to feel cornered."

"why are we even talking about this like it’s possible?” jungwon cut in, his voice sharper than before, frustration clear on his face. “she’ll get fired if any of us cross that line. we can’t risk it.”

the reminder hit hard, and the room fell into a heavy silence again. jungwon was right—there were consequences for this, real ones. it wasn’t just their jobs on the line; it was hers too. you weren’t just some random omega. you were their housemother, and if anything went wrong, it was you who would take the fall.

jay nodded, his expression serious. “it doesn’t matter how much we want her. there are rules for a reason.”

the weight of the situation settled in deeper. they all knew the risks. crossing that line wasn’t just reckless, it was dangerous. the idea of losing you—of you getting fired because of their inability to control themselves—was enough to make their stomachs turn.

“so we need to stop even thinking about it,” sunoo said, his voice calm but firm. “it’s not worth it.”

“but she likes us too, right?” jake blurted out, his voice low, like he hadn’t meant to say it out loud but couldn’t help himself. “i mean, i’ve seen the way she looks at us... she’s not exactly pushing us away.”

the room went still again, the silence heavy as they all processed jake’s words. it was like the elephant in the room had finally been addressed, and none of them knew how to handle it. because the truth was, you weren’t pushing them away. not entirely.

sunghoon let out a long groan, rubbing his temples, his frustration clear. “fuck, don’t remind me. she does, doesn’t she?” his voice was rough, like the thought alone was enough to make his control slip a little. “it’s not just us losing our minds over her. she’s... reacting to us too.”

“or she’s just being nice,” jungwon cut in, though his voice lacked conviction. “y/n’s always been nice. maybe we’re just reading too much into it.”

jake shook his head immediately, his eyes narrowing slightly. “no, man. it’s more than that. i know what being nice looks like, and this? this isn’t just her being nice. there’ve been times…”

“like what?” niki asked, his curiosity piqued. “what do you mean, ‘there’ve been times’?”

jake hesitated for a second, glancing around the room before continuing. “you guys remember that time after practice when we were all exhausted, and she made us dinner? she was sitting between me and sunghoon, right? and we were joking around... i don’t know, maybe i was being a little too flirty, but she didn’t stop me. in fact...” he paused, his eyes flickering with the memory. “she leaned into it. like, actually leaned in. she was laughing, touching my arm... it wasn’t just friendly.” sunghoon nodded, his jaw tightening as he remembered too. “yeah, i remember that. i thought i was just imagining things, but she definitely wasn’t pulling away. it was like... she was testing the waters or something.” jungwon frowned, clearly still skeptical. “that could just be her being comfortable around us. we’ve known her for a while now. that doesn’t mean she’s thinking about us like we’re thinking about her.” but sunoo shook his head, speaking up now, his voice thoughtful. “no, jake’s right. she wasn’t just being nice. there’ve been other moments too. like the other day when she was helping me fold laundry, and we were talking... she kept looking at me, holding eye contact longer than usual, smiling in this... i don’t know, different way.” heeseung, who had been listening quietly, voiced out. “and it’s not just that. i’ve noticed the way she reacts when we’re close to her. it’s subtle, but her body language changes. she gets more... tense. like she’s aware of us, but not in a bad way.” “fuck,” sunghoon groaned again, running a hand through his hair. “this is so messed up. she’s into us too, isn’t she? but she’s probably trying to hold back because of the damn rules.” they all fell silent again, the weight of the situation settling over them like a thick blanket. it wasn’t just them. it wasn’t just the scent, or the heat, or the fact that they were all alphas in close proximity. there was something more. something deeper that none of them had really wanted to admit until now. “now what?” jake asked, his voice quieter now, the uncertainty clear. “we can’t just... ignore this. not when we all know it’s there.” sunoo shrugged, though his expression was serious. “we don’t push her. if she’s holding back, there’s probably a reason. but we can’t pretend we don’t see it anymore.” heeseung sighed, leaning back in his seat, his eyes narrowing as he thought about it. “the problem is... now that we all know it’s mutual, it’s going to be even harder to stop thinking about it.” jake let out a humorless laugh. “no shit. like it wasn’t hard enough already.” “it’s the damn necklace,” jay muttered, his fingers fidgeting as he thought about it. “it’s supposed to suppress her pheromones, but maybe it’s also messing with her ability to… i don’t know.”

“so what do we do?” jake asked, his voice quiet, almost defeated. “because if she really likes us too... we’re fucked.”

sunghoon let out a frustrated breath, leaning back against the wall. “we’re already fucked, man.”

then heeseung spoke up, his voice calm but serious, eyes fixed on jungwon. “call yuki.” jungwon’s head snapped up, confusion clear on his face. “what for?” he asked, already pulling his phone from his pocket, but hesitant. everyone else turned to heeseung, equally confused, waiting for some kind of explanation. heeseung’s gaze flickered between them, his expression unreadable. “tell him…” jungwon’s fingers hovered over his screen, waiting for the rest of the instruction. “to send over some omegas.” the room went dead silent. jungwon froze mid-text, his eyes widening in shock as he processed what heeseung just said. the others? they all stared at heeseung like he’d just suggested something unthinkable. for a moment, no one moved, no one said a word. the tension thickened, and the disbelief was palpable. “omegas?” sunghoon was the first to speak, his voice low, almost incredulous. “are you serious?”

“what the fuck, heeseung?” jake added, staring at him like he’d lost his mind. “why would you—” heeseung held up a hand, silencing the barrage of questions before they could spiral. “look, I know it sounds fucked up, alright? but think about it.” his voice was calm, but there was an intensity behind it. “we all know what’s happening. her scent, the heat… we’re all on edge. if we don’t find a way to get some relief, someone’s going to lose control. we can’t let that happen.” jungwon, still holding his phone, looked between heeseung and the others, uncertainty clouding his features. “you’re saying we need to bring in omegas... to, what? keep us in check?” heeseung nodded, his expression grim but resolute. “yeah. it’s not ideal, but it’s better than the alternative. if we don’t do something about this, one of us is going to snap. and when that happens, it won’t just be bad for us. she’ll pay for it.” as crazy as it sounded, it wasn’t hard to understand why he’d suggest it. you were driving them all to the brink, and they were holding on by a thread. bringing in omegas might be the only way to release some of that tension, to stop the inevitable from happening. jake ran a hand through his hair, letting out a heavy sigh. “fuck, man. i hate that this actually makes sense.” “you really think this is the only way?” sunoo asked, his voice quieter, more hesitant. “i mean... can’t we just handle this without bringing someone else into it?”

heeseung’s jaw tightened. “if you’ve got another solution, i’m all ears. but we’re already too far gone. if we keep pushing it, one of us is going to slip. and when that happens, it’s game over for all of us—and her.” the room fell silent again, the reality of the situation sinking in. they all knew heeseung wasn’t wrong. as much as they hated it, they couldn’t deny that their instincts were winning. and the thought of losing control around you, of making a move that could ruin everything, was too big a risk to take. jungwon finally broke the silence, his fingers tapping out the message to yuki. “alright. i’ll do it. but this feels... fucked up.”

“we’re all in a fucked-up situation,” jake muttered, his tone resigned. “at least this way, we might keep from doing something we’ll regret.”

sunghoon sighed, leaning back against the wall again. “just make sure yuki sends them quick. because if we’re stuck in this house with her scent any longer, i don’t know how much more self-control i have left.”

they all nodded in agreement, even though none of them were happy about it. it was a desperate solution to a desperate situation. they knew it. but at least it gave them a chance to keep you safe, to keep them all from crossing that line.

but even as jungwon sent the message, the nagging thought lingered in the back of their minds—no matter how many omegas yuki sent, none of them were you. and that might just be the biggest problem of all. just how could they get rid of this?

as you moved around the kitchen, preparing dinner for the boys, you tried to keep your mind focused on the task at hand. chopping vegetables, stirring the pot, setting the table—it was all mechanical, helping you push back the strange mix of emotions swirling inside. you knew the alphas were giving you space, probably doing whatever they could to keep their instincts in check, but the longer they stayed away, the more you could feel the tension building inside you.

something wasn’t right. the necklace was supposed to help, supposed to suppress your scent, but it clearly wasn’t doing its job. it hadn’t been for a while now, and you could sense the boys struggling with it, even if they tried to hide it.

as you finished setting the table, your phone buzzed in your pocket. you wiped your hands on a towel and checked the screen—yuki was calling.

“hey, yuki,” you answered, trying to keep your voice steady.

“hey, how’s it going over there?” his voice was casual, but you could hear the concern lurking beneath the surface.

you glanced around the empty kitchen, biting your lip. “uh... not great, honestly. my suppressor necklace isn’t working. i don’t know what’s going on, but the boys are... they’re struggling. and i can tell it’s affecting them. i think my heat’s coming soon, but the necklace should be controlling things better than this, right?”

yuki was silent for a moment before sighing. “yeah, that makes sense. if your heat’s approaching, the necklace might need to be replaced, but that would explain why they’re all acting on edge.”

you nodded, though he couldn’t see you, the weight of his words settling in. “yeah, i thought something was off.”

there was a brief pause before yuki spoke again, his tone shifting. “actually... the boys called me earlier.”

your heart skipped a beat. “oh?”

“yeah,” he continued, and you could hear the hesitation in his voice. “they, uh... they asked me to send some omegas over.”

you froze, your heart sinking at his words. the thought of them needing other omegas stung, even though you understood why. they were struggling to keep their instincts in check, and with the way your scent had been affecting them, it made sense that they needed some kind of release. but still... the idea of it made something you a tiny bit jealous.

“oh,” you said softly, trying to mask the disappointment creeping into your voice. “i see. i guess that makes sense.”

yuki seemed to pick up on the shift in your tone. “look, it’s better this way. they’re trying to avoid making things worse, and if your heat is coming, you’ll need to take care of yourself too.”

you nodded again, even though a part of you couldn’t help but feel a strange satisfaction. you’d driven them to the point where they had to call for help, and while it was bittersweet, it meant something. you had them so worked up that they couldn’t handle it anymore, and that knowledge gave you a quiet sense of power.

“i get it, yuki. i do. thanks for letting me know.”

“listen,” he said, his voice softening. “i'm putting in an order for a replacement, with your heat approaching... it’s only going to get harder. i’ll send the omegas over tonight, just to make sure everyone stays in control.”

just then, the front door creaked open, the sound echoing through the quiet space. the boys started filtering into the kitchen, their voices casual but slightly strained, like they were trying too hard to act normal. their scents hit you first—thick, warm, and charged with tension. it was impossible to miss. they spotted the dinner you’d prepared, the smell of the food wafting through the air, and for a brief second, their expressions softened, almost relieved.

but you could feel it. beneath the surface, there was an undercurrent of something much more dangerous, something unspoken. their scents, a mix of warm cedar, musk, and a sweetness you couldn’t quite place, told the truth they were trying so hard to hide. the room felt like it was buzzing with their barely-contained instincts.

just then, you heard the front door open, and the boys started filtering into the kitchen. their scents hit you first—thick, warm, and charged with tension. it was impossible to miss. they spotted the dinner you’d prepared, the smell of the food wafting through the air, and for a brief second, their expressions softened, almost relieved. their scents, a mix of warm cedar, musk, and a sweetness you couldn’t quite place, told the truth they were trying so hard to hide. the room felt like it was buzzing with their barely-contained instincts.

you motioned to them that you were on the phone with yuki, and they nodded, sitting down at the table, ready to eat. they seemed grateful for the distraction, though you noticed jake’s eyes linger on you a little too long before he finally sat down.

yuki’s voice broke through your thoughts. “one more thing,” he said, his tone a little more serious now. “with your heat approaching, what are you going to do? you’re going to need an alpha to help regulate it, especially if the suppressor isn’t working.”

you blinked, the question catching you off guard. “uh... i hadn’t thought about that yet,” you admitted, glancing at the boys as they started to eat. “i guess... maybe i could ask hyunjin?”

the moment his name left your lips, the entire table went still. the boys froze mid-bite, their heads snapping up to stare at you, wide-eyed. there was a heavy silence that followed, tension crackling in the air again, but this time it was different. more intense. you could practically see the shift in their expressions—surprise, frustration, maybe even a hint of jealousy.

yuki didn’t seem to notice the reaction on the other end of the line. “hyunjin, huh? that could work. he’s solid, might be a good idea.”

but the way the boys were looking at each other told you something else. hyunjin? that wasn’t sitting well with them. you didn’t know why, but the second you mentioned his name, it was like you’d thrown gasoline on a fire that had already been smoldering beneath the surface.

yuki’s voice crackled through the phone again. “so, what time works for you and hyunjin? i know your schedule can get tricky with the boys around.”

you glanced over at the alphas sitting at the table, all of them focused on their food but clearly listening in on your conversation. “uh, it depends,” you said, hesitating for a moment. “some of the members will be staying back, and i don’t want it to interfere with their schedules. but... we could just lock ourselves in my room. the door’s pretty sturdy, and it’ll keep everything contained.”

yuki’s voice held a hint of concern. “are you sure? no damage or anything?”

you smiled to yourself, glancing at the sturdy metal door that was specifically designed for situations like this. “nope, no damages. the door’s reinforced—it’s meant to handle these things. it’ll be fine.”

“alright,” yuki said, still sounding a bit cautious. “i’ll have him reach out. just make sure everything’s set up. and take care of yourself, okay?”

“yeah, thanks, yuki,” you replied, your voice softer as the call came to a close. “i’ll handle it.”

as soon as you hung up and took your seat at the table, your phone buzzed again. you glanced down and saw hyunjin’s name flashing on the screen. he’d sent you a message almost immediately after yuki must have told him the plan.

hyunjin: so i hear we’re gonna be spending some quality time together. should i bring snacks? lol.

you couldn’t help but laugh at his casual tone, though you could feel the weight of the stares from across the table. all of the boys were watching you, their eyes glued to your phone like hawks, clearly trying to figure out what was going on.

you quickly typed out a response, trying not to make it too obvious that their intense gazes were throwing you off.

you: snacks would be great, but maybe something low-cal since i’ll be locked in a room with you for a while, lol.

the moment you hit send, you glanced up to see them all still watching you, their expressions a mix of curiosity and something else you couldn’t quite place—they weren’t exactly thrilled with the idea of you and hyunjin being locked away together.

“who’s texting you?” jake finally asked, his tone casual but laced with something sharper.

you raised an eyebrow, trying to play it off. “just hyunjin. we’re sorting out the details for... you know, my heat.”

that seemed to make the air in the room even heavier, and you could practically feel the boys exchanging glances, they all knew it was necessary, but that didn’t mean they had to like it.

jungwon stabbed at his food, “so... when’s he coming over?”

you shrugged, pretending not to notice the tension. “yuki’s still figuring that out. but don’t worry, it won’t interfere with anything.”

heeseung, who had been quiet the whole time, finally spoke up. “just make sure the door stays locked,” he said, his voice calm but his eyes dark with something unspoken.

you nodded, feeling the weight of their gazes still on you. this was going to be more complicated than you thought.

your phone buzzed again. you unlocked the screen to see a message from yuki with the details of the omegas he was sending over. you quickly skimmed through it, and then looked up at the boys, all of them still watching you, waiting for something.

“so,” you said, casually as if nothing was amiss, “the omegas will be coming over soon. once dinner’s over, perfect timing.”

you smiled as you said it, completely unaffected by the idea, and it hit the boys like a gut punch. the way you seemed so nonchalant about it—so casual, almost happy to share the news—left them feeling a strange mix of frustration and hurt. it was like you didn’t care, like it didn’t bother you at all that they had to call in other omegas for relief.

weren’t you even a little jealous?

jungwon’s jaw clenched as he chewed on his food slowly. “yeah, great,” he muttered, his tone tight. the others exchanged glances, clearly not thrilled with the situation either. they couldn’t understand how you were so cool about this.

jake finally broke the silence, trying to keep his voice steady. “so, you’re okay with all this? with the omegas coming?”

you shrugged, giving him an easy smile. “i mean, it’s not like i can do anything about it, right? besides, you guys have needs, and with my heat coming, it’s probably better this way. less tension, right?”

the words were logical, practical, but the boys were thrown off by how unaffected you seemed. they had expected... something.

sunghoon shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his fingers tapping against the table. “so, how does this usually work?” you asked, looking between them, genuinely curious now. “do you all just... go to separate rooms with them?”

heeseung nodded, his eyes on his plate. “yeah. it’s better that way. keeps the scents from mixing up too much. it’s... cleaner.”

“cleaner,” you repeated, nodding thoughtfully, like you were just trying to understand the logistics. “makes sense, i guess.”

the atmosphere in the room shifted again, the weight of your easy acceptance pressing down on them. the boys were used to alphas and omegas being possessive, territorial even. but you weren’t showing any of that. it was messing with their heads. they didn’t want you to be jealous necessarily, but the fact that you weren’t even phased by the idea of them with other omegas? that stung in a way none of them were ready to admit.

jake set his fork down, rubbing the back of his neck. “yeah, it’s pretty straightforward. the omegas handle... whatever we need, and we go back to normal.”

you nodded again, completely calm. “good to know.”

the boys exchanged more glances, the silence thick with something they couldn’t quite put into words. none of them wanted to admit it, but the thought of bringing in other omegas didn’t sit right with them. it wasn’t appealing—not the way it should be. not when all they really wanted was you.

and the fact that you didn’t seem to care at all? that was the hardest part.

“and hyunjin?” niki blurted out, his voice cutting through the thick tension like a knife.

everyone froze for a moment, the sound of silverware clattering onto plates the only thing breaking the silence. sunoo shot niki a sharp look, like he was ready to smack him for bringing it up, but the question was already hanging in the air, impossible to ignore now.

you raised an eyebrow, glancing at niki as if to say, what about him? but you didn’t respond immediately, instead taking a slow sip of water, giving yourself a moment to figure out how to address this without stirring up more tension.

jungwon was the first to speak, his voice clipped, tight with something you couldn’t quite place. “what about hyunjin?”

the room went dead silent, and you could feel the weight of their stares on you, each of them waiting for your answer. jake’s hand froze halfway to his mouth, sunghoon's jaw tensed, and even heeseung, who had been trying to play it cool, was suddenly far too still.

you set your glass down gently, the clink of it against the table sounding louder than it should have. “we... go way back, actually,” you said, your voice calm but measured. “before i was a housemother, i was an on-call omega.”

you saw the flicker of surprise pass through their expressions, though they tried to keep their reactions subtle. sunoo’s eyebrows shot up slightly, and niki looked like he wanted to ask a million more questions.

“hyunjin and i were... compatible. sexually, i mean,” you continued, your voice not wavering, though you could feel the tension creeping up your spine. “it wasn’t serious or anything, but we were... pretty friendly.”

the room was suffocatingly quiet. you could practically hear the way their breathing changed, the way their muscles tensed at your words. but they tried to keep it together, to not let the flash of jealousy or irritation show too much. it was hard to miss though—the way jungwon’s fingers curled tightly around his fork, the muscle in sunghoon’s jaw flexing as he stared down at his plate, even jake shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his eyes darkening slightly.

“really friendly, huh?” heeseung finally broke the silence, his tone casual but laced with something darker, something he was trying to mask. he shot you a glance, his smile tight.

you nodded, keeping your expression neutral, though you could feel the weight of their scrutiny pressing down on you. “yeah. like i said, we were compatible. and with my heat coming... i thought it’d be a good idea.”

jake let out a low breath, his fingers tapping against the table. “so, what? you two just hook up whenever your heat’s coming?”

you met his gaze, not backing down. “sometimes. it’s not like that anymore though, not since i became a housemother.”

the mention of hyunjin clearly wasn’t sitting well with anyone, and you could practically feel the way their eyes were fixed on you, like they wanted to hear more. you swallowed, trying to play it off as cool as possible. “hyunjin’s just here to help, that’s all. no big deal.”

but it was obvious it was a big deal—at least to them. the idea of another alpha, one outside their circle, coming in to help you through something as intimate as your heat? fuck that.

jake scoffed, leaning back in his chair. “right.”

“i just thought it’d be more convenient,” you said, your voice softer, trying to explain. “since it’s kind of affecting you guys too.”

but the words didn’t seem to ease the weight in the room. it wasn’t just about convenience for them, not really. you were thinking about practicality, trying to make things easier for everyone involved. but the boys—they weren’t just worried about the logistics of your heat or how hyunjin fit into the equation. there was something deeper, something that made the thought of hyunjin coming over sting in a way you didn’t fully understand.

sunoo finally broke the thick silence, shooting niki another warning glare as if to say you really had to go there? “seriously, niki? you had to bring that up?”

niki shifted in his seat, looking a little sheepish now. “i was just curious,” he mumbled, though his eyes darted between you and the others.

you hid the urge to smirk, watching how they all tried—and failed—to mask how affected they were by the mere mention of hyunjin.

if only things were different. but you let that thought be fleeting, knowing it would only complicate things even more. “guys, relax,” you said, your voice calm, though there was a teasing edge to it. “hyunjin’s just here to make sure everything goes smoothly. you don’t have to worry about it.”

but they were worried, it was like the tables had turned. now they were the ones feeling uneasy, annoyed that you seemed so comfortable with the idea of having him help you.

jungwon sighed, pushing his plate away as if he’d suddenly lost his appetite. “sorry, y/n, we’re just... a bit on edge.”

you looked at him, waiting for him to continue. his eyes flicked to the others before landing back on you. “it’s just... your scent is a little harder to manage now.”

you could see the discomfort on their faces, they were struggling, and the fact that your suppressor wasn’t doing its job had only made things worse. but despite that, they were trying to hold it together, trying to respect the boundaries, and you were grateful for it.

you offered them a small smile, trying to ease the tension. “i get it. i know things are a bit... off right now, but i don’t want you guys to feel like you have to walk on eggshells around me.” you leaned forward slightly, meeting their gazes one by one. “i appreciate that you’re being honest with me. really.”

they all seemed to relax, if only a little. jake leaned back in his chair, rubbing the back of his neck. “we just don’t want things to get... out of hand. it’s been hard, and with the way your scent’s been hitting us...”

sunghoon, who had been quiet, looked over at you, his brow furrowed. “you’re really okay with all this? with... you know, hyunjin and everything?”

you sighed, leaning back in your chair. “it’s just how things have to be right now.”

sunoo, who had been nervously playing with his food, finally looked up and gave you a small smile. “thanks for understanding, y/n. we just didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

you nodded. “and i don’t want you guys to feel uncomfortable either. we’re all in this together, right?”

they all exchanged glances, the tension in the room finally starting to ease. they still weren’t thrilled about the idea of hyunjin being involved, but hearing you acknowledge their feelings, and knowing that you understood what they were going through, seemed to settle some of the unease.

heeseung leaned forward, his tone more serious now. “we just want to make sure you’re okay. that’s what matters most.”

you gave them a warm smile. “i know. and i appreciate it. i’ll get the necklace replaced as soon as possible. but in the meantime, don’t stress too much, okay?”

they all nodded, the room feeling lighter now that the tension had been addressed head-on. just as the conversation began to settle, the doorbell rang, cutting through the lingering tension. you straightened up, blinking in surprise. “oh, that must be the omegas,” you said, your voice a little too upbeat as you pushed back your chair. you stood up, smoothing down your clothes, an unexpected flicker of excitement bubbling up inside you.

you hadn’t seen other omegas in a while, not since you started living with the boys, and despite knowing the reason they were here, a part of you couldn’t help but feel a little eager. maybe it was the simple fact that you missed being around your own kind, missed the familiarity of it. even though these omegas were here for entirely different reasons, it still stirred something inside you.

you walked toward the door, your steps quick, while behind you, the boys exchanged irritated glances. the shift in the air was almost palpable, their earlier frustrations bubbling back to the surface at the thought of other omegas being involved. but there was nothing they could say or do. this had been the plan, after all.

as you opened the door, your smile was wide and welcoming. “hey! come on in,” you greeted brightly, stepping aside to let the group of omegas inside.

they smiled back, though there was a sense of awkwardness in the air. they weren’t here for the usual casual visit, and everyone knew it. but still, it was nice seeing new faces, and you found yourself oddly relieved to be around them.

the boys, however, didn’t share your enthusiasm. as the omegas filed in, the alphas all glanced at each other, their expressions a mix of annoyance and resignation. none of them were particularly happy about this arrangement. their own emotions were already a tangled mess, and the arrival of the omegas only added to the complexity.

sunghoon leaned back in his chair, his eyes narrowing as he watched you chat easily with the omegas, almost like they were old friends. jungwon crossed his arms, his jaw tight, while jake ran a hand through his hair, clearly trying to mask his frustration.

heeseung, always the one trying to keep things steady, let out a quiet sigh. “well, here we go,” he muttered under his breath, exchanging a knowing look with jay.

as you turned back to the boys, you could feel their eyes on you, the tension still thick despite your efforts to lighten the mood. you smiled, gesturing toward the omegas. “they’re here to help, so... let’s not make it weird, okay?”

but even as you said it, you could tell the boys weren’t exactly thrilled. their gazes lingered on you, and you could almost feel the unspoken words hanging in the air.

this wasn’t going to be easy for anyone.

the omegas introduced themselves with smooth, practiced voices, each one clearly prepared for what the night had in store. they were impeccably dressed, their makeup flawless, and their scents filled the room—a mix of heady, pleasant aromas that blended with your own. every movement they made was deliberate, designed to draw attention. it was impossible not to notice how perfectly put together they were, like performers stepping onto a stage, confident and poised.

you were in the kitchen, wiping down plates with sunoo when he glanced toward the living room and nodded in the direction of the omegas. “looks like it’s starting.”

you frowned, looking at him, confused. “what do you mean?”

he chuckled softly, shaking his head. “you really don’t know how this works, do you?” his tone wasn’t mocking, more amused, as if he realized you weren’t aware of the process.

you blinked, genuinely curious. “what works?”

“the scent compatibility test,” he explained, leaning against the counter as he continued wiping down the plates. “they don’t just pick an omega at random.”

when you don't really know what to answer back, sunoo raised an eyebrow, glancing at you with a hint of surprise. “oh? you’ve never done this before?”

you shook your head, feeling a little out of place in this situation. “no, i haven’t,” you admitted, your voice softer than usual. “hyunjin and i were already matched... it was automatic, we didn’t go through all of this.”

sunoo’s eyes flickered with understanding, and he nodded slowly, wiping down another plate. “that explains it. you skipped the whole process. usually, alphas go through this to make sure everything lines up—scent, preferences, instincts.”

you glanced over at the living room again, watching as the boys continued to eye the omegas. it was subtle, but you could see the way they were picking up on the scents, the quiet tension in the room as they assessed the potential matches. your stomach twisted slightly, and you weren’t sure why—maybe it was the reminder of how you and hyunjin had come together so easily, without all of this... ritual.

despite their attempts to act casual, the boys couldn’t help but size them up, their eyes lingering on each omega as they made their way into the living room. while they might have been reluctant, their alpha instincts were kicking in. you could see it in the way they moved, subtly circling the omegas, already assessing, as if instinctively making their choices. they tried to mask it, but it was obvious they were drawn in, each one acting like a predator studying its prey.

“but you know,” sunoo continued, his tone thoughtful now, “it’s rare for all of them to like the same scent. their types change, sure, but usually, they each go for something different. they shouldn’t all be circling the same omega... or reacting to the same one.” he glanced at you, his eyes narrowing slightly in that knowing way of his.

you blinked, not quite catching on. “what do you mean?”

you felt a knot tighten in your stomach, his words unsettling you. your eyes flicked back to the living room, where the omegas sat on the couch, their eyes bright and expectant, clearly waiting to be chosen. and it hit you that this wasn’t just about compatibility—it was about being picked, about being the right one for the night. there was something primal in the air, a raw energy that you couldn’t ignore. you knew why this was happening, knew it was necessary, but watching the boys size up the omegas like they were picking the perfect match left you with an uneasy feeling in your chest. they needed this, sure, but seeing it unfold before your eyes made something uncomfortable stir within you. sunoo must’ve noticed the tension in your expression because he gave you a small, reassuring smile. “don’t worry,” he said softly, trying to ease the weight of your thoughts. “it’s just how things work. they need to be compatible, or it’s pointless.” you nodded slowly, still unsure how to feel about it. the boys continued circling the omegas, their eyes scanning each one, their bodies reacting instinctively. the omegas, for their part, had their backs straight, chins up, looking just as expectant as the alphas circling them. then, after what felt like forever, jake glanced at the others, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “so... who’s going first?”

the question hung in the air, and you felt your throat tighten as you waited for one of them to make the first move. it was like some strange, unspoken ritual, and as much as you tried to focus on the plates in front of you, you couldn’t tear your eyes away from the living room.

one by one, the boys exchanged looks, as if silently debating who would take the lead. it was almost a game to them, but there was an underlying tension, something deeper, something territorial simmering beneath the surface.

heeseung stepped forward first, his gaze focused as he scanned the line of omegas. the room seemed to hold its breath as he moved toward them, the unspoken choice ready to be made.

heeseung moved with purpose, his steps slow and deliberate as he approached the line of omegas. his nostrils flared slightly, taking in their scents, his sharp gaze flicking over each of them like he was calculating something only he could understand. the room had grown unnervingly quiet, every eye following his movements, tension thick enough to choke on.

he halted in front of the omega seated in the middle, his expression cold and unreadable. “stand up,” he ordered, his voice low and commanding, sending a shiver down your spine. there was no hesitation in his tone, and the omega, wide-eyed and eager, rose to her feet immediately, her body stiff with anticipation.

you watched as heeseung leaned in, sniffing the air around her, his jaw tight, like he was considering something. she stayed perfectly still, not daring to move as he sized her up, the intensity of the moment palpable. your heart raced, though you weren’t sure why. there was something about watching this—about seeing heeseung in control, asserting himself as an alpha in front of everyone—that was both unsettling and fascinating.

and then he spoke, his voice so cold and matter-of-fact that it sent a shock through the room.

“can you handle rough?”

you nearly choked on your own spit, your eyes widening in disbelief at the bluntness of the question. the casual way he said it, like he was asking her about the weather, was so stark, so raw, that it took a second for you to process it. your hand flew to your mouth, trying to hide the reaction, but you couldn’t help the way your body tensed at his words.

the omega in front of him visibly stiffened, but she quickly composed herself, nodding eagerly, though her voice wavered slightly. “y-yes, of course.”

heeseung’s eyes narrowed, watching her closely, clearly weighing her response. the room seemed to hold its breath, everyone waiting to see what would happen next. the other boys exchanged glances, some smirking, some frowning, clearly taken aback by how straightforward heeseung had been.

from your spot in the kitchen, you could feel the tension crackling in the air like electricity. this was the first time you’d ever seen something like this up close, choosing who would satisfy their needs—was almost too intense to watch.

but you couldn’t look away.

"yeah..." sunoo chuckled nervously, the sound low and uncertain. but as he placed a dry plate on the rack, you felt his eyes on you, his gaze sharp, almost calculating. he wasn’t watching heeseung or the omegas anymore—he was watching you.

his lips twitched into a smirk, clearly pleased at the way you’d reacted to heeseung’s blunt question. sunoo leaned in slightly, his eyes narrowing with curiosity. “you okay?” he asked, his voice soft but with a teasing edge.

you blinked, still trying to process the scene unfolding in the living room, but sunoo’s quiet observation wasn’t helping the heat that had crept up the back of your neck. you nodded, but it was weak, distracted by what you’d just witnessed.

“you didn’t expect that, did you?” he said, almost playfully, though there was a certain sharpness behind his tone. sunoo knew exactly what he was doing, gauging your reaction, curious about how you were handling all of this. his eyes flicked back to heeseung for a moment, then back to you.

“i’m just... surprised,” you admitted, trying to focus on the task of drying plates, but your hands felt shaky, and the image of heeseung towering over the omega kept playing in your head. the way he commanded the room, the sheer dominance in his tone—it had done something to you, something you weren’t quite ready to admit out loud.

“surprised, huh?” sunoo leaned in a little closer, his smirk deepening. “he’s always been like that, you know. in control. cold.” he paused, letting his words linger. “but it’s different seeing it up close, isn’t it?”

you swallowed thickly, trying to avoid his gaze as you put another plate away. “yeah, a little.”

sunoo chuckled again, clearly enjoying your discomfort. “don’t worry, y/n. we all have our... moments.” he leaned back, his eyes still locked on you as he handed you another plate to dry, his expression almost amused. "but it's interesting watching you react to all this."

you glanced up at him, feeling your cheeks warm under his scrutiny. "what's that supposed to mean?" you asked, trying to sound casual, but the way his eyes were narrowing told you that sunoo had picked up on far more than you wanted him to.

"nothing," he replied, his voice light but his gaze heavy. "just... interesting."

heeseung nodded, satisfied with whatever assessment he’d made. “come,” he said, his tone cold and commanding, not even waiting for the omega to react. she scrambled to follow behind him, clearly eager, her movements quick as the door to his room clicked shut with a finality that sent a shiver through the air.

the silence that followed was thick, almost suffocating, and you felt your stomach twist as the others exchanged brief glances, the tension only growing as they realized what was happening. it was real now—this was how things were going to play out, one by one.

“looks like we’re going in order then,” jay muttered, stepping forward with a casual air, though you could tell from the slight stiffness in his shoulders that he was feeling the weight of it too. he was more deliberate as he approached the line, his eyes scanning each omega carefully, taking his time to visually inspect them, though you could tell he was looking for something specific.

his gaze settled on one omega wearing a simple bracelet, something about it catching his eye. there was a moment of hesitation, his eyes flicking between her and the others, before he made his decision. “you,” he called, his voice steady but with an edge of authority. the omega perked up, clearly relieved at being chosen, and stood up.

jay’s eyes lingered on the bracelet again for a second, his fingers brushing lightly against it as if curious about its meaning, before he turned and gestured for her to follow. as they walked away, the room felt a little colder, a little more tense, with every door that shut.

the other boys watched, some with a quiet intensity, others with a flicker of impatience. sunoo glanced over at you, still wiping down the plates, and let out a quiet sigh. “looks like it’s going to be a long night,” he murmured, though his eyes didn’t leave you, almost as if he was waiting to see how you were handling all of this.

“does it always happen like this?” you asked, glancing over at sunoo.

he shrugged, his eyes flicking to the living room where the remaining omegas sat, still waiting. “it depends. the whole scent compatibility thing isn’t just some myth. they need to feel it, the connection.” he paused, his gaze locking on yours, and for a moment, it felt like he was gauging your reaction again. “but it doesn’t mean it’s easy.”

you swallowed thickly, feeling that same tension twist in your chest. it was hard not to think about what was happening behind those closed doors, hard not to imagine the raw, instinctual part of it. you hadn’t realized it would be this intense, this... real.

jake stood there for a moment, rubbing his hands together, clearly trying to break the tension in the room, attempting to make things feel lighter. “alright,” he said, nodding toward the omega sitting on the far end. “you’re up.” his voice was playful, but there was something about the way his eyes flicked over to you as he made his choice, the way his gaze lingered a little too long.

you pursed your lips, feeling a sudden stiffness in your body, like all the air had been sucked out of the room. jake wasn’t just casually choosing anymore—there was something in his expression that looked like resignation, like he was forcing himself to go through the motions. it made you feel uneasy, like there was something more beneath the surface, something you weren’t quite ready to face.

and then jake turned fully toward you, his eyes locking onto yours, and for a second, it felt like the whole room was watching, waiting for your reaction. the intensity in his gaze made your heart race, as if he was silently asking for something, or maybe just waiting for a response you didn’t know how to give.

before you could even process it, sunoo slipped his arm around your shoulder, pulling you slightly closer. his scent hit you immediately—citrusy, fresh, warm like sunshine on a summer day. it was comforting, grounding, even though the situation was anything but.

“you shy, jake?” sunoo teased, his voice light, though you could feel the slight tension in his grip. “can't pick because y/n’s here?” he joked, trying to break the awkwardness hanging in the air, but even he couldn’t fully mask the edge in his voice.

jake chuckled, but it was hollow, his smile not reaching his eyes. “nah, I’m just making sure I don’t screw up,” he said, though the way he kept glancing back at you told a different story. there was something more, something he wasn’t saying.

you tried to smile, but it felt forced, the weight of the situation pressing down on you. this whole night had been surreal, and now, watching jake choose an omega while looking at you like that, made your chest tighten.

“so, you’re cute,” jake said, his voice dropping into a low, flirtatious tone. the omega he’d chosen stood up eagerly, her eyes wide, practically vibrating with anticipation. “uh, thanks,” she stammered, glancing nervously between jake and the others. “um… do you have anything you like?”

jake’s smirk deepened, his eyes flicking over her with a mixture of amusement and something darker. “and eager too,” he teased, taking a step closer, his tone light but laced with suggestion. the atmosphere in the room shifted slightly, tension curling at the edges as the omega responded to him, practically buzzing under the weight of his attention.

sunoo’s arm stayed wrapped around your shoulder, his warm, citrusy scent still lingering in the air, “he’s just trying to lighten things up,” sunoo muttered softly, sensing your unease, his voice close to your ear. “don’t worry about him.”

“do you like getting eaten out?” jake asked, his tone casual as if he were discussing the weather. you felt your jaw drop slightly, eyes widening in shock, and you instinctively looked over at sunoo, whose expression mirrored your own disbelief.

sunoo blinked, then quickly recovered, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as if to play it off. “well, jake sure knows how to set the mood,” he muttered under his breath, though his eyes were still flicking between you and jake, clearly surprised by the directness of the question.

the omega jake had chosen stiffened for a moment, but then she quickly composed herself, a small, eager smile spreading across her face as she nodded. “y-yeah, I do,” she stammered, clearly trying to match his energy, though the tension in the room was palpable.

you couldn’t believe what you were hearing. jake’s boldness was one thing, but the way he’d asked it so bluntly in front of everyone—including you—made your stomach twist with something you couldn’t quite place. embarrassment, maybe. discomfort. or... something else entirely that you weren’t ready to admit.

sunoo glanced at you, still trying to gauge your reaction, “he’s just... jake,” he whispered, leaning in slightly, his breath warm against your ear. “don’t take it too seriously.”

but how could you not? everything about this night felt surreal, like you were watching from outside yourself, and jake’s question had thrown you off completely. you swallowed thickly, your hands gripping the edge of the counter as you tried to steady yourself. this was just part of the process—part of what they needed—but the way jake was looking at the omega, his words so direct, made your heart race in a way you couldn’t quite explain.

you felt sunoo’s eyes on you again, and when you glanced up, he was watching you closely, almost like he was waiting for you to say something. but you couldn’t find the words.

“why? jealous?” sunoo teased, a sly grin spreading across his face. “jake did eat you out on your first day, didn’t he? was he good?”

the playful slap you gave him was more instinctive than anything, your hand landing lightly on his arm as you shot him a look. “oh, shut up,” you mumbled, but your cheeks were burning, the memory flashing in your mind.

it had been intense—more intense than anything you’d ever experienced. jake, with that cocky smirk and the way he’d been so sure of himself, had caught you completely off guard. and then there was jungwon, the tension between them palpable as they had their mini fight over you. the whole thing had been overwhelming, but also… something you hadn’t forgotten.

you tried to play it cool, waving sunoo off like it wasn’t a big deal, but the way your pulse raced gave you away. “it wasn’t like that,” you added, trying to keep your voice steady, but sunoo’s knowing smirk didn’t falter. he could read you better than you thought, and he knew exactly what buttons to push.

“right, not like that,” he mimicked, rolling his eyes dramatically. “come on, y/n, we all saw how that went down.” his voice dropped lower, more teasing now. “bet you’re thinking about it right now, huh?”

you groaned, pushing him gently. “seriously, sunoo, quit it.”

but even as you laughed it off, trying to keep the atmosphere light, the memory of that day lingered in the back of your mind—jake’s intense gaze, the way jungwon had looked at you, possessive, like he was about to claim you right then and there. it had been a chaotic mix of desire, jealousy, and raw instinct, and even now, just thinking about it made your heart race.

“let’s go then,” jake said, holding out his hand to the omega, a cocky smile playing on his lips as she eagerly took it, her excitement palpable. without missing a beat, he led her toward his room, the door shutting with a soft click, leaving a charged silence in the air.

sunghoon, who had been standing nearby, didn’t wait around either. he moved with purpose, though his steps faltered when he caught sight of one of the omegas fidgeting nervously, fixing her hair in a clear attempt to get his attention. she was eager, her eyes bright and expectant, hoping to be chosen. sunghoon noticed, his gaze flicking toward her for a moment, but his focus wasn’t entirely there.

he tried everything in his power not to look back at you. but the struggle was real, his body betraying him as he felt the growing tension in his pants. the hard-on he’d been fighting all night was becoming impossible to ignore, and the fact that sunoo was still lingering with you, playing it cool in the kitchen, wasn’t helping.

what the fuck is sunoo even doing? sunghoon thought, his frustration mounting. the plates had been wiped dry long ago, yet there sunoo was, clearly killing time, his arm still draped casually around your shoulder, his scent mixing with yours in a way that was driving sunghoon insane.

he clenched his jaw, trying to focus on the omega in front of him, but his mind kept wandering back to you. the way you’d reacted to jake, to sunoo’s teasing—it had been subtle, but sunghoon had noticed the way your pulse quickened, the slight flush in your cheeks. he hated how aware he was of it, how much it affected him.

the omega finally caught his full attention when she spoke, her voice soft and hopeful. “sunghoon? would you like to...?”

he swallowed hard, forcing a smile, but his thoughts were elsewhere. yeah, sure, he thought, though it was clear his mind wasn’t entirely on her. with one last glance in your direction, he turned back to the omega and nodded. “let’s go.” his voice was lower than usual, almost strained, as he motioned for her to follow him.

but even as he led her toward his room, sunghoon couldn’t shake the feeling gnawing at him—the tension between him and you, the frustration at sunoo’s lingering presence, and the fact that no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t seem to get you out of his head.

niki and jungwon, who had been silently fuming, staring down at the floor throughout the entire ordeal, suddenly glanced up at you and sunoo. their expressions were unreadable, but the intensity in their eyes was enough to make your stomach flip. jungwon's gaze, in particular, was sharp, almost laser-focused on sunoo's hand resting casually on your shoulder, his jaw clenched tight.

sunoo must have sensed the shift, because he quickly removed his hand from your shoulder, stepping away like nothing had happened. “it’s your turn, hyung,” niki mumbled, not making eye contact with any of the omegas, his voice low, almost grudging.

jungwon didn’t say a word, but the way he stared—his eyes practically boring holes into sunoo—said more than enough.

“i’m up,” sunoo said to you with a playful wink, smoothing over the tension like he always did, before striding confidently toward the line of omegas. his charming smile lit up his face, and you could see the way the other omegas perked up the moment his attention was on them. a few of them blushed, clearly taken by his visuals, their eyes wide as they watched him approach.

sunoo stopped in front of one of the omegas, his smile softening just slightly. “i like your dress,” he said, his tone casual but laced with genuine appreciation. “prada?”

the omega’s face lit up instantly, her nervousness dissolving into excitement. “yes, it is!” she beamed, clearly flattered that sunoo had noticed. you could see how sweet she was, her eyes sparkling as she stood a little taller, more confident now that sunoo had singled her out.

sunoo’s charm was effortless, the way he made her feel special with just a few words. you watched as he leaned in a little closer, engaging her in quiet conversation, making her laugh softly as they shared a moment. his presence was calming, and the other omegas couldn’t help but watch with admiration, almost envious of the attention he gave so easily.

“come on,” sunoo said smoothly, flashing the omega his trademark charming smile as she eagerly hooked her hand into his arm. he sent you a quick nod, almost like a gesture of respect, before leading her toward his room. the door clicked shut behind them, and for a moment, the house seemed to hold its breath.

then, out of nowhere, a scream pierced the silence, loud and full of pleasure. “yes, oh my god!” one of the omegas cried out, the sound making your heart race. the sheer intensity of it hit you like a truck, your body responding instinctively. your heat—it was coming, and the primal reaction coursing through you was undeniable.

just hearing the way someone was clearly being pounded into the sheets, you felt your own scent slip, just for a second, and that was all it took. jungwon and niki groaned simultaneously, their reactions immediate, raw, and visceral.

jungwon, who had been holding back for what felt like forever, snapped. he stalked toward the nearest omega, his nostrils flaring as he sniffed the air around her, his movements predatory. “you like berries, don’t you, niki?” he muttered under his breath, though his focus was entirely on the omega in front of him, his alpha instincts taking over.

niki sighed, clearly trying to keep his cool, but the tension in his body was obvious. “i’m taking this one, then,” he said, his voice strained as he eyed the omega. “you’d like the other one.”

“fucking leftovers,” niki grumbled under his breath, clearly irritated that he was the last to choose. but when he noticed the flicker of hurt in the omega’s eyes, his expression softened just slightly. “don’t worry,” he added quickly, forcing a small smirk. “i had my eyes on you from the start.”

it was a lie, and he knew it. but the omega seemed to take some comfort in his words, her face brightening just a little, though niki’s frustration was still evident in the tightness of his jaw. he hadn’t planned on being the last to pick, and it irked him more than he’d admit.

without another word, jungwon and niki each took their respective omegas by the hand, their movements deliberate and almost robotic as they headed toward their rooms. there was no hesitation, no second glance in your direction. the tension was too thick, their instincts too strong. they were on autopilot now, their minds consumed by the overwhelming need coursing through them.

the door to jungwon’s room clicked shut, followed by niki’s a moment later, leaving you alone in the hallway, your heart pounding in your chest. they hadn’t even spared you a glance—not a single acknowledgment of your presence as they disappeared with the omegas. it was as if everything else had faded away, and all that remained was their raw, primal need.

you stood there for a moment, trying to steady your breathing, your mind racing. the sound of the omega’s earlier cry still echoed in your ears, your body responding to it against your will. your heat was coming, and the reality of it weighed heavily on you.

and now, you were alone with nothing but your thoughts, the house eerily quiet except for the faint sounds of the others behind closed doors.

you were drowning in your thoughts, unable to shake the vivid images from your mind—what was happening behind those closed doors? how good were they being fucked right now? you could almost hear it in your head, the way the omegas must be moaning, bodies tangled with the alphas who had been holding back all night. god, you thought, biting down on your lip, your thoughts spiraling out of control.

the frustration was unbearable, this constant itch you couldn’t scratch. you tried to remind yourself of your father’s strict rules, of why you had to maintain control, why you were here in the first place. you were supposed to be the one in charge, the one keeping things together. but fuck, what would it feel like to let go for once? to let those alphas do what they clearly wanted to do? what you wanted them to do?

those omegas were probably getting the fucks of their lives right now, and here you were, stuck, alone, a knot of desire and restraint that was threatening to unravel.

just as the thought hit you, your phone buzzed in your hand, startling you out of your daze. hyunjin’s name flashed on the screen, and your heart skipped a beat. you answered quickly, the sound of his husky voice on the other end making your breath hitch.

“hey…” his voice was low, rough, sending a shiver down your spine. there was a pause, like he was waiting for something, then he added, “i’m outside.”

your eyes widened, heat rushing through your body. outside? he was already here?

“you’re outside?” you bit your lip, trying to steady your breath, but before you could fully process his response, jay’s door swung open with a bang. an omega stumbled out, wobbling on her legs, her skin flushed and covered in hickeys, her expression dazed—blissful, even.

you instinctively moved to help her, catching her arm before she could fall. “are you okay?” you asked, concern threading through your voice, but the omega wasn’t distressed. in fact, she looked like she was floating in some kind of euphoric haze.

“i’m... i’m fine,” she mumbled dreamily. “i just... couldn’t keep up.” she giggled, her face flushed with exhaustion and pleasure. the sight of her—neck littered with dark marks, legs barely steady—left no doubt about what had just happened behind that door.

jay appeared behind her, his shirt rumpled, hair a mess, phone in hand. his gaze locked onto you, intense, unreadable. you could feel the weight of it, like he was daring you to react. he didn’t look ashamed or embarrassed—he looked completely unfazed, like this was just another night.

the omega smiled sheepishly at jay. “sorry, i... i couldn’t keep up,” she apologized, her voice light, and jay just stared down at you, something dark flickering in his eyes. “she’ll be fine,” he said, voice calm, though his gaze stayed fixed on you. “i didn’t push her too hard.”

you stared at him, your mind racing. the omega looked like she’d just experienced heaven, but the tension between you and jay was impossible to ignore. what had really gone down in that room?

“it hasn’t even been a few minutes?” you said, disbelief clear in your voice as you glanced between the omega and jay. the omega was already making her way to the door, while jay stood there, watching you with that same unreadable expression.

you reached for your phone, needing an escape. “hyunjin, are you still outside?” you asked, your voice shaky.

“hyunjin, huh?” jay muttered under his breath, his tone bitter. “what’s he doing here?”

the way he said it sent a chill down your spine. the shift in his tone was jarring, like he’d flipped a switch. the cocky, playful jay you knew had been replaced by someone more intense, more possessive. “here to fuck you already?” he challenged.

the question hung heavy in the air, almost accusatory. your pulse quickened, but you stood your ground. “what’s it to you?” you shot back, trying to keep your voice steady despite the tension crackling between you.

jay stepped closer, closing the distance between you, his presence overwhelming. “i just think... now isn’t a good time,” he said, his voice laced with something darker. “my omega is gone... and who do we have left?”

“you know we can’t,” you said, trying to laugh, but it came out shakier than you intended. the tension between you two was suffocating now, his stare burning into you, daring you to deny it.

“can’t we?” he asked, his voice softer now, but still filled with that same underlying heat. “because it feels like we’re both thinking about it.”

you swallowed, your hands instinctively clasping at your necklace, like it could protect you from the thick, oppressive tension in the room. jay’s eyes flicked down to the necklace, noticing your nervous gesture, and something in his gaze darkened further.

“well, looks like that’s all we’re gonna do... just think about it,” you mumbled, your voice barely above a whisper.

but the way jay looked at you, the intensity in his eyes, made it clear that thinking wasn’t enough anymore. and you couldn’t help but wonder how long it would be before that line—between thinking and acting—blurred completely.

he immediately eased up, letting out a fake chuckle as he ran his hands through his hair, the tension softening, though not entirely disappearing. “i’m kidding, y/n, fuck,” he said, his voice lighter, but there was still that edge beneath it. he was trying to play it off, but the way his eyes lingered on you made it clear this wasn’t just a joke, not really.

jay stepped back, shaking his head like he was trying to shake off the intensity that hung between you. “but i’m serious... not now, okay? please?” his voice dropped, softer, almost pleading. “can you make him come another time?”

the desperation in his tone caught you off guard. jay wasn’t just asking; it felt like he was begging you to reconsider, and it was jarring. the idea of hyunjin being here, now, clearly unsettled him in a way he was trying not to show, but you could feel it in the air between you.

"why?" you asked, tilting your head slightly, clutching your necklace like it was some kind of lifeline, hoping it would ease the tension. "wouldn’t it be better for everyone? he could scent me for now... take the edge off."

jay’s jaw clenched, his gaze darkening for a moment before he exhaled slowly, trying to regain control. “having another alpha here, right now, in our house?” he shook his head. “it wouldn’t be a good idea.” his voice was calm, but what was lurking beneath was hard to ignore, and you could hear it, feel it.

and as much as you didn’t want to admit it, what jay said made sense. the house was already on edge, tension building with every second. adding another alpha into the mix would only make things worse. you could practically see the disaster waiting to unfold.

jay’s eyes softened slightly, the intensity still there but more measured now. “look, we’re all barely keeping it together as it is. bringing in hyunjin right now? that’s just asking for trouble.”

you hesitated, glancing down at your phone. "hyunjin?" you said, your voice quiet, uncertain.

"yeah, i heard," he replied, his voice calm but understanding. there was a weight in his tone, like he already knew what you were about to say, like he’d expected this.

a silence stretched between you as you wrestled with the decision. part of you wanted to say that having hyunjin here would help, that it might ease the tension... but jay’s words kept echoing in your head. another alpha in the house? that might make things even worse. “look,” he continued, his tone softening, “if it’s not the right time, I get it. just let me know when things settle down, okay?” you bit your lip, feeling conflicted.

“okay,” you finally said, your voice barely above a whisper. “i’ll let you know when things settle down.”

"good girl." jay’s voice cut through the silence, the low, dark undercurrent making your breath catch. the words lingered in the air, heavy and unsettling, leaving you more flustered than you wanted to admit. your fingers fidgeted nervously, smoothing down your clothes like it would ground you, but the tension was still there, thick and electric.

you swallowed, forcing yourself to meet jay’s gaze, trying to push through the haze of tension between you. "uh... do you feel better now?" your voice came out shakier than you intended, and when your eyes flicked downward for a second, you saw it—his erection, straining against his pants, even though he had just been with his omega.

what the fuck was going on with jay? he wasn’t usually like this—so intense, so... different. sure, he was cocky, always had that confident edge to him, but this? this was something else.

jay didn’t even try to hide the smirk that tugged at his lips when he noticed the way your eyes lingered. "does it look like i feel better?" his voice was smooth, dripping with that dangerous undertone that sent a shiver through you.

you laughed nervously, the sound shaky, trying to diffuse the situation. “nope...” you wheezed, the attempt to lighten the mood falling flat. your heart was racing as you watched jay’s gaze drop to your necklace, his eyes lingering on it before he stretched his arms, his muscles flexing under his shirt, his scent—tobacco, cedar, and that faint hint of vanilla—filling the space around you.

he walked toward the fridge, opening it casually, grabbing a bottle of water like nothing had happened, but his eyes never really left you. even as he twisted off the cap and took a long drink, his gaze stayed locked on yours, that smirk tugging at his lips, making you feel like you were still under his spell.

"you okay?" jay asked, his voice softer now, and the smile he flashed at you—the one you’d seen countless times—felt like a lifeline, pulling you back to some sort of normalcy. it was the jay you knew, not the one who had been so intense just moments ago. his usual, cocky charm was back, making you think maybe the tension from earlier was just in your head.

you let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, forcing yourself to smile back. "yeah, i’m good," you lied, trying to sound casual even though your pulse was still racing.

"just... didn’t think it’d be over that fast," you said, trying to keep your tone light despite the tension still buzzing under your skin.

jay’s chuckle was low, almost dismissive, as he took another swig of water. "yeah, well, i wasn’t really feeling it," he said, his eyes narrowing slightly, still watching you. there was something in his tone, something almost... disappointed.

you frowned, confused by his nonchalance. “but she looked like she was, though,” you pointed out, thinking back to the omega who had practically stumbled out of his room earlier. she had seemed more than satisfied, blissed out and covered in hickeys. “you didn’t feel anything?”

jay shrugged, his smirk fading into something more serious, his eyes darkening as he set the bottle on the counter. "nah, the scent was off," he muttered, running a hand through his hair. "sure, she was into it, but for me? it just... didn’t click."

you blinked, processing his words. "the scent was off?" you echoed, not sure what he meant. scent compatibility was supposed to be the foundation for an alpha and omega connection, what was the whole point of the ritual earlier then?

jay nodded, his eyes flicking up to meet yours again, and there was something raw in his gaze, something almost... frustrated. "yeah. it didn’t feel right. i thought it would, but..." he trailed off, his eyes roaming over you, lingering on your face, your lips, then your necklace. "her scent wasn’t what i needed."

your pulse quickened at his words, and you suddenly felt hyper-aware of the space between you—how close he was, how his scent was starting to wrap around you, making it harder to think clearly. the tension you’d felt earlier came rushing back, stronger now, and you could feel your body reacting to his proximity, to the way his gaze was practically devouring you.

“what do you mean by that?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

jay took a slow step forward, closing the distance between you just enough for his presence to feel overwhelming again. "you ever had a moment where the scent in the air just... wasn’t right?" he murmured, his voice dropping lower, making your skin prickle. "like you’re going through the motions, but something’s missing? something you need, but you don’t know what it is?"

your heart thudded in your chest, your mind racing as you tried to process what he was saying, what he was implying. his scent, that intoxicating mix of tobacco, cedar, and vanilla, was wrapping around you like a fog, pulling you deeper into the moment, making it harder to focus.

"and you think it’s the scent?" you asked, your voice wavering as your eyes darted back to his, trying to gauge his intentions.

jay’s smirk returned, but this time it held a darker, more dangerous edge. "yeah," he whispered, his eyes boring into yours with an intensity that made your skin prickle. then, without warning, he leaned back, his body language shifting as if he hadn’t just filled the space with this suffocating tension. like he could turn it off, just like that.

his words lingered in the air, and you weren’t sure if he was still talking about the omega or if he was hinting at something much more personal, much closer to home.

"the others are gonna take a while, probably... wanna hang?" jay’s voice was casual, too casual, as he leaned against the counter. but the way his eyes were tracking your every move? that was anything but casual.

your heart skipped a beat, the room suddenly feeling way too small, the air thickening with his scent—a scent that was doing things to your body you desperately wished it wouldn’t. instinctively, you took a step back, trying to create space, needing to breathe. "i... i don’t know if it’s a good idea," you stammered, feeling the warmth crawl up your spine, settling deep in your core. you knew how dangerous this was, how being around him, with your heat creeping in closer every day, was a recipe for disaster.

jay’s smirk faltered for a second, his eyes narrowing just a bit, but he stayed rooted in place, watching you. "come on, y/n. we’re just hanging out. what’s the worst that could happen?"

"you fucking me?" the words slipped out before you could even stop them, your eyes going wide with shock the moment they left your lips. your hand flew up to cover your mouth, but it was too late. the room felt like it had been struck by lightning, the silence deafening, the air buzzing with the weight of what you’d just said.

jay froze, his expression shifting as the words sank in. slowly, that dangerous smirk curled back onto his lips, but this time it wasn’t teasing—it was predatory, loaded with intent. his eyes darkened, filled with something raw, primal, something that made your stomach twist and your heart pound faster than you thought possible.

he took a step toward you, his gaze locked onto yours, his voice dropping low, rough around the edges. "is that what you’re thinking, y/n?" his eyes flicked down to your lips for just a second before they snapped back up to meet your gaze again, heat radiating off him in waves.

your heart raced in your chest, your hand still firmly pressed over your mouth, trying to stop any more reckless words from spilling out. but jay didn’t stop. he took another step closer, his scent wrapping around you like a blanket, making your thoughts hazy, making it impossible to focus on anything but him.

"don’t worry," he murmured, leaning in just a little closer, his breath warm against your skin, sending shivers down your spine. "i’m not gonna do anything you don’t want. but you’ve gotta be honest with yourself—what do you want?"

"to not get fired, jay," you muttered against your hand, your voice shaky, but you were trying so damn hard to regain some control. your heart was hammering in your chest, your mind spiraling, searching for an escape from this situation, from the magnetic pull of him.

jay’s smirk softened, but the heat in his eyes didn’t fade, not even a little. he paused for a second, giving you enough space to breathe, but his scent, thick with dominance, still clung to the air between you, suffocating any clear thoughts.

“fair enough,” he said, his voice smooth, though there was a darker edge to it that made your pulse skip. he stepped back a little more, but his gaze stayed firmly locked on yours, daring you to keep looking at him.

"you know we can't," you said, trying to inject some firmness into your voice despite the pounding of your heart. you were desperate to break the tension, to bring things back to normal. but jay just gave you a slow, playful wink, like the whole situation was a game to him, like you weren’t standing on the edge of something dangerous.

"i know, i know. sorry..." he trailed off, his smirk never quite leaving his lips. "just the alpha in me, you know? wouldn’t want you thinking i don’t notice how good you smell."

his words sent a jolt through you, and before you could even think of a response, jay turned, his body language casual as if nothing had happened. he grabbed the bottle of water from the counter, twisting the cap off, and took a long drink, but you could still feel his eyes on you, watching, waiting.

he gave you one last lingering look over his shoulder, eyes gleaming with that same dangerous glint, before he turned toward the door. the click of it closing behind him left you alone in the room, your legs trembling so hard that you collapsed onto the floor, breath shaky as everything that had just happened washed over you in a tidal wave.

you pressed your hands against the cool tile, trying to ground yourself, trying to make sense of what the fuck had just happened. jay’s scent still lingered in the air, thick and intoxicating, filling your lungs, making it impossible to think clearly. your body was reacting in ways you wished it wouldn’t, your mind racing with all the possibilities of what could have happened if you hadn’t stopped him.

what the fuck?

the days after that strange conversation with jay, it was like it had never happened. he acted completely normal and part of you was relieved that he wasn’t pushing the boundary any further. but there was another part of you, the one that couldn’t stop thinking about what he’d said, that found it impossible to forget. the conversation played over and over in your mind, creeping into your thoughts at the worst times, making your body react in ways you couldn’t control.

the desire you’d been fighting seemed to feed into something deeper, something primal, and you could feel your heat coming on faster, hitting harder with each passing day. it was like your body was betraying you, urging you toward something you knew you shouldn’t want.

the boys had a photoshoot today, and you were doing your best to keep your mind off the growing heat that pulsed through you. the studio was busy, bustling with stylists, makeup artists, and photographers running around as the boys either sat in hair and makeup or were changing into their next outfits.

you stood off to the side, trying to keep yourself calm, but the tight grip you had on your necklace was a tell. yuki, who had been observing you from a distance, finally approached, his sharp eyes catching the way you were fidgeting.

“y/n,” he called softly, his tone concerned. “can we talk for a second?”

you nodded, stepping aside with him as he led you away from the main chaos of the studio. his eyes flicked down to the necklace around your neck, and he raised an eyebrow. “how’s your necklace been working?” he asked, his voice low so the others wouldn’t overhear.

you swallowed hard, feeling a knot form in your stomach. “it’s barely functioning,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “i can feel my heat coming in full throttle, and it’s not doing anything to help.”

yuki’s expression tightened, his brows furrowing as he considered your words. “i didn't think it was this bad, but it makes sense,” he said, nodding thoughtfully. “the boys have been on edge.”

you looked around at the boys, who were mostly distracted by their own routines, but the subtle tension in the air was undeniable. “what do i do?” you asked, feeling more vulnerable than you wanted to admit.

yuki sighed, running a hand through his hair. “no updates yet on when the next shipment arrives. but in the meantime, you need to be careful. if your heat hits full force while you’re around them...” his voice trailed off, and he didn’t need to finish the sentence. you both knew what could happen.

he glanced back toward the boys, his eyes sharp as he made sure no one was paying too much attention to your conversation. “just… try to keep your distance. i know that’s easier said than done, especially with how they are.” his gaze softened for a moment, then added, “have they been giving you trouble?”

you shook your head quickly, trying to play it off. “no, nothing like that. it’s just… it’s complicated.”

“what happened with hyunjin?” yuki’s question caught you off guard. you hadn’t thought about hyunjin since that call with jay had taken over your mind, and the fact that yuki was bringing it up now made you stiffen.

“i… uh, had to cancel,” you admitted, trying to keep your voice steady. “it wasn’t the right time, and with everything going on with the boys…” your words trailed off, not wanting to dive into the details of just how complicated things had become.

yuki’s eyes narrowed slightly as he studied you. “was it the right decision for you?” he asked, his tone careful, like he was gauging how much to push.

you shifted on your feet, feeling heat crawl up your neck—not just from embarrassment, but from the ever-growing pull of your heat, lingering just beneath the surface. “i didn’t have a choice. the boys… they’ve been acting strange, and i didn’t want to make it worse.” you bit your lip, trying to find the right words. “and… jay… he didn’t think it was a good idea either.”

yuki’s gaze sharpened at the mention of jay. “jay?” he repeated, his voice low, as if confirming what he’d already suspected. “and how exactly did he convince you?”

you hesitated, feeling the tension coil inside you again. “he just... he was concerned about another alpha being around, especially with how things have been.” you tried to brush it off, but the truth of it lingered in the air between you. jay’s presence, his words, had done more to sway your decision than you cared to admit.

"did he try anything with you?" yuki’s voice dropped to a whisper, his gaze sharpening as he leaned in slightly, making sure no one else could hear.

your breath hitched, and you instinctively glanced around, ensuring no one was paying attention. you shook your head quickly, though your heart raced at the question. "no... not really," you muttered, but your words felt heavier than they should’ve. "he didn’t push anything. it was just... weird."

yuki's eyes didn’t leave yours, searching for any hint of something more. "weird how?" he pressed, his tone gentle but insistent.

"he was just... different. he kept bringing up how I smelled, how the others were on edge," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "but nothing actually happened. he backed off."

"y/n, you need to be careful… the rules," yuki whispered, his tone serious but soft, like he was trying to keep you grounded. the concern in his voice made your chest tighten, the weight of everything suddenly feeling heavier.

"i know," you murmured, looking down at the floor, your hand instinctively clutching the necklace that had been failing to keep everything under control. "i didn’t mean for things to get this complicated."

yuki’s eyes softened a little, but his voice remained firm. "it’s not just about you and them wanting you, y/n. you know the consequences if this goes too far. if any of them break those rules… you’ll get fired, and they’ll face worse. you can’t let your heat—or their instincts—push things over the line."

he paused for a moment, letting that sink in, before adding, "you have to stay in control. the boys aren’t going to be able to help themselves."

you swallowed hard, the weight of yuki’s warning sitting heavy in your stomach. "i’ll figure it out. i just need to get through this heat without everything falling apart." but even as you said the words, a part of you couldn’t shake the fear that maybe it was already too late.

as the boys started getting closer to where you and yuki were talking, yuki immediately shifted the tone of the conversation, his expression lightening as if you hadn’t just had a serious discussion about rules and boundaries.

he threw on a bright smile, his voice cheerful. "so, hyunjin? his schedule is a bit backed up, but he'll be in touch." he announced loudly enough for the boys to hear, acting as if everything was normal.

you blinked at him for a second before catching on, forcing a casual smile to your face. "can’t wait," you said, your tone playful even though the tension from earlier still clung to you. "been wanting to get a good fuck in."

the boys visibly stiffened at your words, their eyes flickering with something that was hard to miss. it was subtle—jay's jaw clenched, jungwon’s posture straightened, and jake shifted uncomfortably—but it was enough for you to feel the shift in the atmosphere.

yuki let out a laugh, clearly trying to keep the mood light. "well, i’m sure he’ll be more than happy to help out," he teased, giving you a wink before glancing at the boys as if to include them in the joke.

“y/n, can you help me with this?” sunghoon’s voice sliced through the buzzing atmosphere of the photoshoot, smooth and casual but laced with something that made your pulse race. your fingers brushed against his as you adjusted the collar of his outfit, the heat between you two almost palpable. you could feel the eyes of the other boys on you—sharp, lingering, tense—making the moment feel even more charged. before the tension could thicken any further, sunoo appeared beside you, holding a mini electric fan in his hand and flashing you his usual bright smile. but there was something calculating behind his eyes, like he was testing the waters. "so... when's he coming over?" he asked, his voice light, he was probing, not just for himself, but for the others too. the question hung in the air for a moment, and you felt the weight of every gaze shift toward you. even sunghoon’s hand stiffened slightly under yours, his playful smirk faltering for just a second before returning.

you swallowed, trying to keep your composure, but the atmosphere was thickening fast. the boys were still watching, waiting for your response, and you could sense that this was about more than just curiosity—it was about territory, control, and unspoken tension that had been building for days.

"sometime soon," you replied, your voice more steady than you felt.

sunoo’s eyes sparkled with amusement, though you knew he was digging for a reaction from the others. “hmm, bet you're excited.” he chuckled lightly but glanced sideways at the other alphas, clearly waiting for their reactions. the others exchanged subtle glances, their expressions shifting. jake, who had been adjusting his outfit nearby, suddenly seemed a little too focused on his clothes. jungwon’s jaw clenched, his eyes narrowing as he stared at sunoo, and you could feel the possessive tension practically rolling off him. heeseung, who had been silent, looked up, his dark eyes locking onto you, a flicker of something unreadable in his gaze. sunghoon cleared his throat, stepping back slightly, though his expression remained calm. "well, if hyunjin’s gonna be handling that, I guess we should all take a step back." his voice was smooth, but there was an edge to it that you couldn’t quite ignore.

the air around you felt like it was buzzing with electricity, the unspoken tension between you and the alphas growing thicker. you forced a smile, trying to play it off as casual, but the truth was hard to escape. they were affected. and even though you were trying to stay in control, your heat was creeping closer, pushing things dangerously out of balance.

"yeah," you said, exhaling slowly, trying to ignore the way your body was reacting to the proximity of all of them. "it’s probably for the best."

sunoo’s smile widened, almost teasing as he leaned in slightly. “well, let’s hope he’s enough to handle it,” he said with a wink, the underlying challenge in his voice clear as he glanced at the other boys. you didn’t miss the way jake tensed at that, his fists tightening for just a second before he forced a casual smile onto his face, pretending like sunoo’s words didn’t bother him. “we’ll see,” heeseung finally said, his voice calm but heavy with something darker. "for now, let's focus on getting through this shoot." the unspoken tension lingered in the air as the conversation ended, and as the boys returned to their tasks, you couldn’t help but wonder what would happen when hyunjin arrived. the idea of him helping with your heat had seemed like a simple solution, but now, with the way the alphas were acting, you weren’t so sure it would be that easy.

you all acted normal—at least on the surface. they went back to their routines, throwing in their usual banter, and you tried to do the same. but every now and then, you’d catch yourself feeling lightheaded, your body’s warning signs of pre-heat becoming impossible to ignore.

it was dangerous, more than you wanted to admit. the heat was creeping up on you, and even though the boys were pretending nothing had changed, you knew they were aware. but still, they kept the act up, and you were grateful for it. for now, at least.

today, you were in the laundry room, folding clothes and trying to focus on the mundane tasks in front of you when you heard the front door open. yuki had arrived.

you heard his voice filter through the flat, followed by the boys greeting him. their tones were friendly, casual. it sounded almost normal, but you couldn’t ignore the undertone of something heavier, like they were all skirting around an unspoken truth.

"yuki!" jake called out cheerfully, clapping a hand on his back. "long time no see, man."

"yeah, it’s been a while," yuki responded, his voice just as light, though there was something in the way he paused that made you feel like he was watching the boys carefully. "how’s everything been? staying out of trouble?"

jungwon chuckled. "we’re always on our best behavior."

yuki raised an eyebrow, smirking. "sure you are."

as their conversation flowed, you could feel the weight of the situation pressing down on you even from the laundry room. yuki was here for a reason, after all. it wasn’t just a casual visit, and everyone knew it.

you swallowed hard, your hands trembling slightly as you folded another shirt. the familiar warmth started creeping up your neck again, the telltale signs of your heat making your head feel foggy. you closed your eyes for a moment, trying to steady your breathing, but it was getting harder to ignore.

“is y/n here?” yuki asked, his voice casual but with an underlying seriousness. the boys paused, their attention flicking toward the laundry room where you were.

you stepped out, carrying a basket of freshly folded laundry, the scent of detergent mixing with the unmistakable sweetness of your pheromones. the moment your scent hit the air, there was a noticeable shift in the room. the boys tensed, their eyes flicking to you and then quickly looking away, trying to maintain some sense of normalcy.

“here,” you said, forcing a smile as you walked over to yuki. his gaze was sharp, but there was a softness to it, a kind of unspoken concern. he could tell what was happening, and it didn’t take much to figure out that you were nearing a dangerous point.

"come on, let’s talk for a sec," he muttered, gently steering you away from the other alphas lounging in the room. his hand rested lightly on your shoulder, leading you toward a quieter corner of the flat, away from their watchful eyes.

“you okay?” yuki asked once you were out of earshot, his voice low and laced with concern. he was standing close, his presence comforting, but you could feel the heat building inside you, making it harder to focus.

you nodded, though you didn’t trust your voice just yet. “yeah, i’m fine. just… getting close.”

yuki sighed, running a hand through his hair. “i can tell. your scent’s getting stronger, y/n. it’s only a matter of time before the necklace isn’t going to help at all. and the boys… they’re already struggling, aren’t they?”

your breath hitched slightly. he wasn’t wrong. the way the alphas had been behaving lately, the lingering touches, the tension that hummed between you all—it was clear they were just as affected by your nearing heat as you were. "they’re… trying to keep it together," you admitted quietly.

yuki’s eyes softened. "that’s not going to last much longer."

you swallowed hard, feeling a pang of guilt. "what do i do?"

yuki’s gaze flicked back to where the boys were lounging, their voices faint in the background. “we’ve got options,” he said carefully, “but you need to make a decision soon. i know hyunjin was supposed to come, but if you wait too long… i’m not sure you’ll be able to keep things under control here.”

"maybe i should leave?" you repeated, a touch more uncertainty in your voice now. "stay somewhere else for the meantime?"

yuki shook his head, considering your suggestion but still unconvinced. "what would work for you? think about it. the boys still need to get to their schedules, and it’s not like they can just drop everything. they've got that award ceremony coming up, and practice sessions. it's a pretty important time for them."

you sighed, running a hand through your hair in frustration. "i know, i know… but maybe i can hold out until next week? it’s just a few more days."

“next week?” yuki repeated, his tone skeptical, like he didn’t quite believe you. “y/n, you don’t sound like you’re due next week. i'm telling you, it's going to take a few days before they’re all over you.”

you frowned, glancing at your phone where your heat calendar was marked, the little colored dots spaced out neatly. “no, i’m sure. i followed my calendar properly. i’ve been tracking it for months.”

yuki gave you a pointed look. “tracking isn’t always foolproof, and you know that. stress, changes in environment, alphas around you—it can all mess with your cycle.”

you didn’t want to admit it, but yuki was right. things had been… different lately. the idea of being around them, especially when your heat hit full force, made your stomach twist with equal parts dread and something else you didn’t want to name.

"so what now?" you asked, your voice quieter, almost defeated.

"let's assume for now you have a week, okay? and keep me in the loop if it comes sooner." yuki held up his phone, signaling that he wanted updates, his tone firm but understanding. you nodded, trying to push aside the creeping anxiety, though your mind was already racing with what-ifs.

as you stood there, talking quietly with yuki, sunoo—who had been rummaging through the cupboard for snacks—caught wind of the conversation. his expression shifted slightly, a glint of knowing flickering in his eyes. he grabbed a bag of chips, his movements slow and deliberate as he cast a glance toward his hyungs, subtly letting them know he’d heard every word.

jay and sunghoon, seated on the couch, tried to act nonchalant. jay’s fingers tapped rhythmically against the armrest while he scrolled through his phone, though his attention kept flickering back toward you and yuki. sunghoon, ever the cool and collected one, leaned back casually, but his jaw was set, a telltale sign that he was absorbing everything.

heeseung, who was currently beating niki at fifa, glanced over at you and yuki from the corner of his eye, not saying anything but clearly listening. his grip on the controller was tighter than necessary, his focus split between the game and what he was hearing. you could feel his gaze lingering on you whenever he thought you weren’t paying attention.

but jake… jake was the most restless. he was perched on the edge of the couch, his knee bouncing up and down anxiously, unable to sit still. every now and then, he glanced your way, his expression unreadable but his body language screaming that something was off. he was fidgeting more than usual, running a hand through his hair and shifting in his seat like he couldn’t quite get comfortable.

sunoo, walking back with his snacks, sent another glance toward jake, reading his agitation like a book. it wasn’t just the upcoming heat throwing everyone off—it was the underlying tension that had been building for weeks. your scent, the way the air seemed heavier whenever you were around, it had them all on edge. but now, knowing that your heat could be right around the corner, it was like a ticking time bomb waiting to go off.

“everything good?” sunoo asked casually as he dropped onto the couch beside jay, though his eyes never left you.

you gave him a small, forced smile. "yeah, just… trying to plan ahead."

“remember, keep me in the loop,” yuki said over his shoulder, his eyes meeting yours one last time before he stepped out.

as the door closed behind him, you could feel the shift. no one said anything, but it was like everyone had been holding their breath. the room was filled with unspoken words, desires left hanging in the air, and a tension that was becoming harder and harder to ignore.

you swallowed thickly, trying to pretend like everything was normal, but you could feel their eyes on you, the weight of the conversation, and the reality that your heat was looming closer than you wanted to admit.

"i think i’m going to rest for a bit," you said, your voice soft but edged with exhaustion. you'd just finished folding and putting away all the laundry, the routine tasks that normally kept your mind busy. but right now, it felt like too much. you needed space. you needed to breathe.

the boys glanced at you, a chorus of "thanks" filling the air as you made your way to your room. you could feel their eyes on you as you left, but you didn’t turn around, swallowing the knot of nerves in your throat as you closed the door behind you. once inside, you leaned against it for a second, your heart racing as you exhaled deeply. everything felt too much—the tension, your pre-heat, the way the boys had been reacting to you. you needed to clear your head.

on the other side of the door, the atmosphere immediately shifted.

sunoo was the first to speak up. “she’s leaving,” he said, his voice low, almost hesitant, like he didn’t want to say it out loud but felt like they needed to hear it. “she told yuki she might leave soon, stay somewhere else for a while.”

the reaction was immediate.

jake huffed, his hands balling into fists on the table. “what the fuck? why? does she think that’s gonna help?” his voice was rough, frustration barely contained as he glared down at the table like it was responsible for all of his problems. he was always the first to react, his emotions simmering right below the surface.

jungwon frowned, his brow furrowing deeply as he processed the information. “leaving?” he echoed, his voice quieter, more controlled, but the tension in his tone was unmistakable. “and what… just leave us here?"

heeseung, however, remained silent for a long moment, his expression cold, detached, though anyone who knew him well enough could see the anger simmering beneath the surface. “so that’s her plan,” he said finally, his voice chillingly calm.

sunghoon leaned back against the couch, arms crossed over his chest. “we all knew it was coming,” he said, his voice low, but there was a clear edge to it. “the way things are going… she probably thinks it’s the only way to keep things from blowing up.”

“she can’t just leave, though,” jake snapped, standing up and pacing the room. “that’s not the answer. it’s bullshit.” his jaw clenched as he tried to process what sunoo had told them, his frustration building as he paced back and forth.

sunoo leaned against the counter, his arms crossed as he glanced at the others. “she’s scared. she doesn’t know what else to do. and honestly… can you blame her?”

jungwon sighed, shaking his head. “no, i can’t blame her. but it still doesn’t change anything. leaving won’t fix this.”

heeseung, still eerily calm, stood up and moved toward the window, staring out at the city beyond. "we need to figure out a way to make her stay." his voice was low but full of conviction.

“and how do you suggest we do that?” sunghoon asked, his voice quiet but cutting. “beg her to stay?”

jungwon rubbed a hand over his face, his frustration clear. “we need a plan. something that makes sense. if she thinks leaving is the only option, then maybe… maybe we need to prove to her that it’s not.”

“we can’t force her to stay,” sunoo reminded them, his voice softer. “that’s not how this works. she has to want to stay.”

heeseung turned around, his eyes colder than usual. “so we give her a reason to stay.”

"and how do we do that?" jungwon asked, his eyes narrowing as he met heeseung’s gaze.

“we talk to her,” heeseung replied, his voice firm. “we tell her the truth. no more pretending. no more tiptoeing around it.”

sunghoon exhaled slowly, leaning back against the couch again. “she’s not going to like that.”

"maybe… we don’t have to tell her. not directly, at least," jay said, leaning forward, elbows resting on his knees as he looked around at the others. "maybe we can just… give her more to do. keep her busy."

jungwon shot him a skeptical glance. "what are you talking about?"

jay shrugged, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips. "we keep her distracted. give her so much to do around the house that she doesn’t even have time to think about leaving. you know how she is—she won’t say no if we ask her to help."

sunghoon raised an eyebrow. "and you think that’ll work? just overwhelm her with tasks until she forgets about leaving?"

jay leaned back, his smirk deepening. "it’s not about overwhelming her. it’s about keeping her close. keep her engaged, keep her around us. she’s used to taking care of us. it’ll be natural."

niki, who had been quiet up until now, crossed his arms and tilted his head. "and what happens when she figures out what we’re doing?"

jay sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "she won’t. not if we do it right. she likes being in charge, likes feeling needed. we just… give her more reasons to feel that way."

jake frowned, glancing between jay and the others. "and what if she still wants to leave? what if that’s not enough?"

there was a brief pause before jay’s smirk faded slightly, his expression turning more serious. "there’s something else i’ve been meaning to tell you guys."

everyone’s attention snapped to him, eyes narrowing in curiosity and suspicion. jay’s shift in tone wasn’t lost on any of them.

"you remember the night the omegas came over?" jay asked, his voice lower now. "when she was in the kitchen with sunoo, and we were… you know… handling the rest?"

heeseung’s eyes darkened. "what about it?"

jay exhaled, sitting up straighter, his fingers tapping restlessly on his leg. "she definitely dropped signs that she’s just holding back."

sunoo raised an eyebrow, leaning forward. "what kind of signs are you talking about?"

jay’s jaw clenched slightly as he remembered. "she was shaking when i came out of my room. you could tell she wasn’t just thinking about hyunjin. maybe i did flirt a little, but i could see it in her eyes. she hesitated. she even said, ‘you know we can’t,’ but the way she said it… it wasn’t like she didn’t want it. hell, she might even want us. she just didn’t admit it outright."

jungwon’s eyes flickered with surprise, his posture stiffening. "wait, so you’re saying she’s thought about it? thought about… us?"

jay nodded, his gaze shifting between them. "i’m saying she didn’t push back as hard as you’d think. she was thinking about it. and if i didn’t get that omega out of there… who knows what would’ve happened."

jake’s eyes widened slightly as he processed jay’s words. "you mean… she was open to the idea?"

jay nodded again. "i think she’s been thinking about it for a while. she’s just… holding herself back because of the rules."

sunghoon sat up a little straighter, his eyes narrowing as he leaned forward. "so, what? you’re saying she’s been wanting us all this time, and we just didn’t notice?"

jay shook his head. "i’m saying she’s human, just like we are. we’ve all been holding back, the difference is, we’re alphas. we’re used to getting what we want, but she’s got these rules drilled into her."

heeseung crossed his arms, his gaze thoughtful but cold. "and you’re sure she was thinking about us? not just you?"

jay smirked, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. "trust me, she wasn’t just thinking about me. she’s been thinking about all of us."

jungwon ran a hand through his hair, his frustration clear. "so what do we do with that?"

sunoo let out a low sigh. "we need to be careful. if we push too hard, she might shut down or leave."

heeseung, who had been quiet for a while, finally spoke up, his voice steady but intense. "we can’t force her. but if she’s already thinking about it… maybe all we need to do is show her that we’re thinking about it too."

sunghoon nodded slowly, the idea settling in. "you’re saying we don’t have to push her, but we can… lead her in the right direction?"

jay shrugged. "we don’t have to tell her. we just have to give her reasons to want to stay. to make her realize she doesn’t need to follow the rules, not when she wants the same thing we do."

niki, who had been unusually quiet, finally spoke up, his voice low. "and what about hyunjin?"

there was a brief silence as the mention of hyunjin hung in the air, the tension in the room spiking.

"hyunjin’s not a problem," jay said, his voice darkening. "we make sure she knows she doesn’t need him. she’s got us."

jake leaned forward, his eyes intense. "and how do we do that?"

jay met his gaze, his voice full of certainty. "we give her what she’s already been thinking about. but on our terms."

the room fell into a thick silence, the weight of jay’s words settling over them like a storm cloud. each of them knew what he was suggesting, and though it was risky, they all felt the pull. they’d been holding back for too long, and now that they knew you’d been thinking about it too… the boundaries they’d been clinging to seemed more fragile than ever.

finally, heeseung nodded slowly, his voice cold and resolute. "we play it smart. we don’t mess this up."

the others exchanged glances, their resolve building as they silently agreed. they didn’t need to tell you directly. they just needed to show you that you didn’t need anyone else. you had them.

and soon enough, you’d realize that too.

and let me tell you, it was complete chaos. the boys suddenly threw you into a whirlwind of chores, one after the other, barely giving you time to think about anything—let alone your heat. you didn’t mind it at first, it felt natural for an omega to want to take care of her alphas. but as the tasks kept piling up, a nagging thought crept into your mind: were they doing this on purpose? you weren’t sure. maybe you were overthinking it. but then again, niki’s request to clean up his room after he had somehow managed to scatter an inexplicable number of tissues everywhere had you raising an eyebrow. "what the hell happened in here?" you had asked, genuinely confused. he shrugged with a sheepish grin. “uh… allergies?” allergies, sure. the dishwasher broke right after you had loaded it full, and of course, sunoo conveniently ‘couldn’t figure it out’ even though he’d been the one using it the most. "i swear, it just… stopped working," he said, scratching the back of his head, his expression way too innocent. you sighed, rolling up your sleeves, thinking maybe if you cleaned the filters or something, it would start again. but of course, it took hours, and sunoo stayed by your side, chatting idly, barely lifting a finger to help. he smiled, though, whenever you looked frustrated. you couldn’t help but wonder if the damn thing was broken on purpose. jake? well, jake suddenly couldn’t find any of his socks. "y/n, have you seen my socks?" he had called out in that soft voice of his, standing in the doorway to the laundry room like some lost puppy. "i swear i put them in the basket, but they’re gone." so there you were, scouring the house for socks. and somehow, one by one, you found them—under the couch, stuffed in random drawers, even behind the tv. “how the hell did you get them all over the place?” you muttered as you retrieved one from the fridge (don’t ask how it got there). jake just smiled sheepishly, scratching his head, offering no explanation.

jungwon, on the other hand, decided to be extra helpful. “i noticed the bathroom tiles need scrubbing,” he said, holding out a sponge. you almost snorted. "seriously? now?" "yeah, it’s just… they looked kind of grimy. figured it’d be better if you handled it, you’re better at that stuff." you gave him a look, but he just grinned, shrugging innocently. "i mean, you are the best at cleaning, y/n." even heeseung got in on it, somehow managing to ‘accidentally’ spill flour all over the kitchen right after you’d finished cleaning up. “my bad,” he’d said, laughing nervously as he watched you grab the broom again. “i was just trying to bake something.” “you don’t even like baking,” you mumbled under your breath, but still, you cleaned up the mess. it was getting ridiculous. one chore after another, and though you liked keeping busy, there was something off about it. deliberate, almost. the more you thought about it, the more it felt like they were doing this on purpose. but why? then there was niki again. "hey, y/n, can you help me fix my bed?" you walked into his room, only to find his sheets and blankets crumpled up in a heap on the floor, pillows scattered like there had been a pillow fight. "what happened here?" "uh… slept weird," he replied with a grin, though he looked way too smug for someone who had just woken up. "mind helping me put it back together?"

you sighed, getting to work, but your thoughts were racing. they were definitely up to something. as you went about fixing the messes they created, a part of you couldn’t help but find the whole situation funny—how ridiculously transparent they were being. you had to give them credit though, they were working really hard to keep you distracted. "y/n, i can't find my shoes," jay called out, poking his head into the kitchen with a frown, clearly distressed as if this was some kind of emergency. before you could even process that, sunghoon wandered in right behind him, casually leaning against the doorframe. "yeah, and my belt's gone too," sunghoon added, like it was the most normal thing in the world for both of them to have lost random articles of clothing at the same time. you blinked, staring at them both, feeling your patience thinning as you tried to figure out how two fully grown alphas were suddenly so helpless. "are you serious?" you sighed, rubbing your temples. "your shoes, jay? and your belt, sunghoon? they can’t both just vanish." jay looked down at his feet, wiggling his sock-covered toes with a shrug. "i mean, they’re not on my feet, so… yeah. pretty sure they vanished." "and my belt? i swear it was just on the chair this morning," sunghoon chimed in, his tone casual, though there was a hint of amusement in his eyes. he was definitely enjoying this a bit too much. you stared at both of them, exasperated. "how do you guys lose everything all at once?" they exchanged looks, and you could tell they were holding back laughter. "i don’t know," jay said, pretending to be deep in thought. "maybe it’s a shoe-stealing ghost or something. want to help me look?" you narrowed your eyes at them, highly suspicious now. but what could you do? they were playing this game well, keeping you running around with their constant needs. you were starting to think they were all conspiring together just to keep you busy. you rolled your eyes and threw your hands up in mock surrender. "fine. but if i find those shoes and that belt in some stupid place, you guys are never living this down." they grinned, and you could almost hear the victory bells ringing in their heads. "deal," sunghoon said, winking as he walked off ahead, already knowing this was far from the end of their mysterious missing items saga.

you stood there, blinking sleepily, trying to make sense of the chaos unfolding in front of you. heeseung stood in the middle of the living room, his hair completely covered in whipped cream, glaring at everyone as if they’d just committed the worst crime in existence. paper plates were scattered all over the floor, some still smeared with cream, and bits of it even splattered on the walls. jungwon, looking equally guilty, had his arm mid-swing, holding yet another plate of whipped cream aimed at sunoo, who was crouched behind the sofa like his life depended on it. the tension was thick, but not in the usual alpha-omega way—it was pure, chaotic, food-fight mayhem. “what… what the hell is going on?” you asked, rubbing your eyes, still groggy from your nap. sunghoon suddenly bounded behind you, using you as a shield as he tried to escape jay, who was hot on his heels with a plate of his own. jake, meanwhile, had already collapsed on the sofa, his face a mixture of exhaustion and satisfaction, like he had just run a marathon—or possibly thrown the best whipped cream pie of his life. “he started it!” heeseung yelled, pointing an accusatory finger at jungwon, who had the audacity to look innocent despite still holding the plate. “no, i didn’t!” jungwon protested, finally lowering his arm but still holding the whipped cream like a loaded weapon. “sunoo did when he missed and hit me instead of jake!” sunoo peeked out from behind the couch, eyes wide with panic, whipped cream smeared across his cheek. “you moved last minute! that was your fault!”

you couldn’t help but laugh despite the mess, the absurdity of the situation making it impossible to stay annoyed. “so, let me get this straight. you guys left for an award ceremony, all dressed up, looking your best… and then came back to start a whipped cream war?”

sunghoon, still hiding behind you, popped his head out with a sheepish grin. “it was supposed to be a victory celebration. things… got out of hand.”

“yeah, no kidding,” you muttered, stepping out of sunghoon’s way as jay finally lunged at him with a plate, but sunghoon dodged, the plate missing by inches and landing on the floor with a splat.

“okay, okay, that’s enough!” you finally said, trying to sound stern but unable to keep the laughter out of your voice. “this is a mess. and guess who’s cleaning it up?”

immediately, they all pointed at each other.

“jungwon’s fault.”

“no, sunoo started it.”

“it’s heeseung’s hair that’s the problem!”

you sighed, shaking your head. “i don’t care who started it. you’re all cleaning it up. now.”

they groaned in unison, but none of them argued. jungwon finally put down the plate he was holding, and sunoo emerged from behind the sofa, still looking slightly traumatized by the near-hit. jake remained on the sofa, still too tired to move, while heeseung desperately tried to salvage what was left of his hair.

“i’m gonna go grab towels,” you said, stifling a yawn as you turned back toward the hallway. “you guys start picking up those plates. no more whipped cream fights, okay?”

“yes, mom,” jay called after you with a teasing grin, but you shot him a mock glare over your shoulder.

“don’t push it, jay. you’re already on thin ice.”

as you left the room, the sounds of reluctant cleanup followed you, but not before you heard jungwon mutter under his breath, “i still think it was sunoo’s fault.”

you couldn’t help but chuckle. the boys were a handful, but somehow, you wouldn’t have it any other way.

jake was wiping down the counters beside you, trying his best to look remorseful, but the pout on his face was far too exaggerated to be taken seriously. “i’m really sorry, y/n,” he said, his voice soft, eyes wide in a fake attempt to look pitiful. “we didn’t mean for it to get so messy... promise.”

you glanced at him, shaking your head with a sigh. “you guys are impossible. whipped cream? really?”

he bit his lip, the playful pout still there as he wiped a bit slower than necessary. “come on, we were just having fun. don’t be mad.” his tone was sweet, almost coaxing, as he tried to worm his way back into your good graces.

before you could respond, heeseung’s voice echoed from the bathroom, sounding frustrated. “y/n! i need help! this whipped cream is stuck in my hair, and i can’t get it out! you’re a girl, you’d know how to fix this, right? do you have any shampoo or something?”

you blinked, glancing at jake, who just smirked at you. “looks like you’re needed,” he teased, stepping aside as if to give you room to go help.

rolling your eyes but feeling a slight flutter in your chest, you knocked on the bathroom door. “heeseung, you good?”

“just come in,” he groaned. “it’s not like you haven’t seen a shirtless guy before.”

you swallowed, pushing the door open slowly. heeseung stood there, his slacks still on, but his torso was bare, his skin glistening with droplets of water from the shower. his hair, still caked with whipped cream, clung messily to his forehead and neck. it took everything in you not to gawk at the sight of him standing there, looking utterly frustrating and irresistible at the same time.

“so, any shampoo recommendations?” he asked, his tone half-joking, half-frustrated, as he wiped some cream from his eyebrow.

you quickly composed yourself, grabbing the shampoo you knew would do the trick from the cabinet. “here, use this,” you said, handing it to him. “it’s good for getting sticky stuff out.”

heeseung took the bottle, his fingers brushing yours for just a second longer than necessary, sending a jolt of heat through your body. he smirked, clearly noticing your reaction, but thankfully didn’t say anything about it. instead, he turned toward the shower, popping open the bottle.

“thanks,” he said, his voice softer now, the frustration ebbing away. “you’re always taking care of us, huh?”

you shrugged, leaning against the doorframe, trying to act casual. “someone has to,” you replied, though your mind was racing. watching him like this, shirtless, his body on full display... it was taking every ounce of self-control not to let your mind wander.

heeseung started scrubbing at his hair, glancing back at you over his shoulder with a grin. “you’re staring.”

“i’m not,” you shot back quickly, feeling your cheeks heat up. “just making sure you’re doing it right.”

he chuckled, the sound low and teasing as he rinsed his hair. “sure. whatever you say, y/n.”

you watched heeseung fumble with the shampoo, trying to scrub the whipped cream out of his hair, but it wasn’t really working. his tall frame made it awkward for him to reach all the spots, and he was clearly struggling. with a sigh, you stepped forward, reaching for the showerhead in his hands.

"here, let me do it," you offered, not giving him much of a choice as you took the showerhead from him. he stood there, still crouched slightly, watching you as you turned the water on and started rinsing his hair.

the feeling of the whipped cream, thick and sticky, made you want to grimace, but you focused on helping him, running your fingers through his hair as the water washed the mess away. heeseung was unusually quiet, his head tilted down, allowing you to work.

his back was to you, and despite your best efforts, your eyes couldn’t help but linger on the way his muscles tensed under his skin, droplets of water sliding down his spine. he was tall, taller than you remembered in this moment, and as he crouched slightly to accommodate you, his broad shoulders and lean back made your stomach tighten with a feeling you desperately tried to push away.

you cursed silently at yourself, trying to stay professional, trying to focus on just getting the stupid whipped cream out of his hair.

"you don't have to do this, you know," heeseung murmured, his voice low as he kept his head down, allowing you to rinse the remaining bits of cream.

"it’s fine," you mumbled back, trying to sound indifferent. "you’d be stuck in here all night otherwise."

he chuckled softly, the sound rumbling through his chest, but he didn’t say anything more, letting you continue. the water sprayed over his hair, your fingers brushing against his scalp as you tried to work out the last of the sticky mess.

"am i getting it all?" you asked, feeling the tension between you growing with every passing second.

heeseung nodded slightly, his voice still soft, almost hushed. "yeah. thanks."

you could feel the heat rising in your cheeks, partly from the steam in the bathroom, but mostly from how close you were, how intimate this moment felt despite the absurdity of the situation. his wet hair slipped through your fingers, the sensation oddly grounding as you focused on rinsing it clean.

finally, the whipped cream was gone. you stepped back, handing him the showerhead, trying to shake off the tension that had built between you both.

“there,” you said, your voice a little too light, too casual. “all clean.”

heeseung straightened up, turning to face you with a smirk on his lips, water still dripping down his chest. “i guess i owe you one now, huh?”

you rolled your eyes, stepping back toward the door, eager to put some distance between the two of you before your thoughts wandered any further.

just as you thought you were done with the whole whipped cream fiasco and were about to leave heeseung behind, a soft knock echoed from the bathroom door. you froze for a second, thinking it was some sort of joke.

when you opened it, there stood jungwon, flashing you that mischievous smile, the one that told you he was up to no good. his hair, too, was covered in whipped cream, bits of it stuck in random spots. your own smile faltered, a sigh escaping your lips as you took in the scene.

"you’ve got to be kidding me,” you muttered, but he just chuckled, leaning against the doorframe like he had all the time in the world.

“need some help?” he asked, eyes twinkling, as if he knew exactly how exhausted you already were.

before you could even respond, sunoo appeared behind him, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. his hair wasn’t faring any better—whipped cream smeared across the top, leaving him looking just as disheveled as jungwon.

"guess who else needs help," sunoo said with a small laugh, though you could see the apologetic look in his eyes. he knew they were pushing it.

you pinched the bridge of your nose, trying to hold back the urge to roll your eyes again. "seriously?"

"seriously," jungwon said, that infuriating grin still plastered on his face. he was enjoying this way too much.

heeseung, still standing by the shower, let out a low laugh. "looks like it's a group session now."

you shot him a look, but it was hard to stay mad when jungwon and sunoo were both looking at you expectantly, whipped cream clinging to their hair like this was some bizarre tradition.

"fine," you sighed, turning the shower back on, gesturing for jungwon to step in. he moved beside heeseung, who barely tried to hide his smirk as jungwon ducked his head under the water.

"don't get too comfortable, heeseung," you muttered as you started working the cream out of jungwon’s hair. "you're next, sunoo."

sunoo stood off to the side, watching you as you scrubbed jungwon’s hair clean. he looked slightly embarrassed, but there was also something in his eyes—something that mirrored the tension that had been building between you and the boys for days now.

jungwon, on the other hand, seemed unbothered by the situation. his eyes stayed on you, and every now and then, he’d flash you another one of those smiles, like he knew just how flustered this whole thing was making you.

as you rinsed out the last of the whipped cream from his hair, sunoo stepped up, clearly trying to keep things light. "i think i win for most whipped cream," he said, showing off the sticky mess clinging to his hair.

"you’re definitely in the running," you deadpanned, gesturing for him to duck under the water next.

it took a few minutes, but you finally managed to clean up the two of them, the water running clear as the last of the whipped cream swirled down the drain. by the time you were done, your arms were sore, and you were mentally exhausted.

"alright," you said, stepping back, "all of you are officially whipped-cream-free. now, no more food fights."

heeseung, jungwon, and sunoo all exchanged glances, clearly amused by the whole thing, but you were too tired to care at this point. you were ready for some peace and quiet.

as you turned to leave the bathroom, jungwon called after you, his voice teasing. "you’re the best, y/n. we’ll try not to make too much of a mess next time."

you didn’t even turn around, just waved your hand dismissively as you walked out, hearing their quiet chuckles behind you.

just as you stepped out onto the balcony to hang the laundry, enjoying the brief moment of peace and the fresh air, inside the apartment, the boys were huddled together, voices hushed as they exchanged glances.

"okay, seriously," jake muttered, rubbing his temples in frustration. "how the hell does making her do more chores stop her from leaving? i mean… are we really this dumb?"

heeseung leaned back against the couch, arms crossed, a heavy sigh escaping his lips. "it seemed like a good idea at the time… keep her busy, right? maybe she wouldn’t have time to think about leaving if we piled stuff on her plate."

sunghoon, who was slouched next to him, shook his head. "yeah, well, now that i think about it, it’s pretty damn stupid. it’s not like she’s just going to forget about her heat because she’s cleaning up after our mess."

jungwon, who had been sitting quietly, finally spoke up, his brow furrowed in thought. "all we're doing is making her more tired. if anything, it’s probably pushing her further to want to leave and rest somewhere else."

sunoo, leaning against the kitchen counter, let out a low groan. "we’ve only made it worse."

"exactly," niki added, crossing his arms, clearly frustrated. "have you seen her today? she’s already tired as hell."

jake sighed, running a hand through his hair. "and here we are, acting like a bunch of idiots, thinking more chores was the solution."

heeseung’s expression darkened slightly, his jaw tightening. "so what now? we’ve been running her ragged for days, and it’s not like that stopped her from feeling her heat coming."

the room fell silent as they all considered their next steps, each of them realizing how flawed their initial plan had been. the truth was, they’d been so focused on finding ways to keep you busy that they hadn’t even stopped to consider how it might affect you, how it was only delaying the inevitable.

jay, who had been quietly observing the whole exchange, finally spoke up. "maybe we need to face reality. she’s going to go into heat, whether we like it or not. and making her do all this stuff isn’t going to change that."

jungwon nodded, sighing heavily. "it’s not going to stop her from leaving either."

niki let out a long breath, glancing toward the balcony where you were hanging clothes. "so, what’s the plan? because this… this isn’t it."

the boys exchanged a series of glances, the reality of the situation hitting them harder than before. their attempts to keep you from leaving hadn’t just been pointless—they might’ve been pushing you away even more.

“or maybe…” jake paused, his eyes flicking around the group before he continued. “maybe we do need to get her heat to come faster.”

the room went silent, every head snapping toward him. sunghoon’s brows furrowed, disbelief etched into his expression. “what the fuck are you talking about?”

jake shifted uncomfortably, but he didn’t back down. “think about it. if jay’s right, and she’s already thought about us… maybe we can push her a little, trigger it. if her heat hits, she’d have to give in. we all know how it works.”

jungwon’s eyes widened, a mixture of shock and uncertainty washing over his features. “are you crazy? and what do we do if yuki finds out? hell, what if she finds out?”

“he won’t,” jake insisted, leaning forward slightly, his voice low, conspiratorial. “no one has to know. we just… make sure it happens naturally.”

sunoo groaned, running a hand through his hair. “are we seriously considering this? i mean, come on. that’s risky as fuck.”

the room fell into silence again, the weight of the idea sinking in. they knew the consequences, the lines they were about to cross, but the frustration was boiling over. the desire was becoming unbearable, and the idea of waiting felt like torture.

niki was the next to speak, his voice quieter than usual. “are we really going to do this?”

there was a pause, the tension almost suffocating, before heeseung spoke, his voice calm, controlled. “maybe there’s a way… to induce it ourselves.”

sunghoon’s eyes narrowed as he looked at heeseung. “how the hell do you propose we do that?”

heeseung leaned forward, his expression serious. “there are ways to trigger an omega’s heat. it’s all biological. if we push her body just right, get her pheromones reacting to ours, it could tip her over the edge. and once she’s in heat, there won’t be any holding back.”

jungwon shook his head, rubbing the back of his neck. “this is insane. it’s one thing to talk about it, but… actually making it happen? what if she freaks out?”

heeseung shrugged slightly, though there was a dark edge to his eyes. "we don't know that. if jay’s right and she wants us, then once her heat kicks in, she’ll want it just as badly as we do. she won’t be able to resist.”

jake leaned back, his arms crossed as he considered heeseung’s words. “so, we make it happen. but how?”

heeseung’s eyes darted toward where you were, making sure you were still busy hanging clothes on the balcony before he bolted to his room. the other boys exchanged confused glances, their curiosity piqued. when heeseung returned, holding a blanket in his hands, they all looked at him like he’d lost his mind.

“what the hell, man?” jake muttered, eyebrow raised as he crossed his arms.

“wait—just hear me out,” heeseung said quickly, noticing how they were all jumping to conclusions. “we scent this blanket.”

jungwon’s eyes narrowed, confused. “and what? she’s just going to wrap herself in it?”

heeseung rolled his eyes. “no, dumbass. we scent this blanket and then give it to her, subtly. our pheromones are strong enough that if she’s around them for long enough, it might help trigger her heat.”

jake, who had been suspicious of the whole plan at first, suddenly leaned forward, a smirk forming on his lips. “that’s actually smart as hell. but how do we make sure she uses it? it’s not like she’s just going to cuddle up in a random blanket.”

sunghoon scoffed, crossing his arms. “i think she wouldn’t even want to use it if it smells like us. seven alpha scents? that’s overkill for one omega. she could get repulsed, you idiot.”

jake paused, his eyes narrowing as if considering sunghoon’s point. but then, something shifted in his expression, his eyes lighting up as if he’d just had a revelation.

“wait…” he started, a slow grin spreading across his face. “what if we…”

he trailed off, his smirk deepening as the others leaned in, curiosity piqued.

“what if we what?” jungwon asked impatiently.

jake’s smirk widened as he leaned back. “leave that to me.”

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[swordgrace]

𝐅𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐇𝐅𝐔𝐋𝐋𝐘 — 𝐈.

⠀ཾ༵ 𑁍┆ daemon targaryen x otto’s wife!reader x otto hightower.

synopsis: as the young wife of otto hightower, your joy is threadbare, and your husband is absent. when you have a chance encounter with the rogue prince at the heir’s tournament, you become entangled in a web of desire that you cannot get out of.

SERIES — 1/?

༺ FORMAT: one-shot — not requested, part of a series.

༺ WORD COUNT: 11.5K.

༺ WARNINGS: SMUT!, dubious consent / mild coercion, infidelity, cheating (on otto), legal age gap (for reader/otto and reader/daemon), inexperienced reader, otto is an absent husband, seduction, sexual tension & yearning, reader is sexually repressed, loss of virginity, risk of getting caught, choking, biting / marking, begging, groping, scratching, oral sex (f!receiving), fingering, finger-fucking, p in v sex (unprotected), multiple positions, possessive daemon, mention of child death.

༺ AUTHOR’S NOTE: I am so incredibly excited for this fic series, I feel like it could be a good one! I really appreciate all of the support I’ve been getting on the Aemond fic, another one will be coming up soon! Hello to all of my new followers, I am so excited to have you all here! Please enjoy this part, it’s a big one, but it sets the stage for future parts!

𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓 — you often saw inklings of it in Alicent’s eyes whenever you held her gaze, and noticed the subtle twitch of her mouth with any attempt at conversation. It always fell short, a relationship that had no ounce of potential, nothing to kindle it.

Sometimes, you wished that you could hold her hands, cuticles raw, and tell her that you were one and the same. It always made you uncomfortable to contemplate the closeness in age between you and Alicent, and the longer you dwelled on it, the more bitter you felt.

You were only three years her senior — one-and-twenty, married to her father, Otto Hightower — the hand of the King. Marriage was a concept that you were groomed for, and to be wed to a man of such stature and importance was a great victory for your house.

Otto was an absent husband, at best. His proceedings as Hand left him occupied, and whenever he did return to you, he was often burying himself in whatever business the King had assigned him to. Otto often took much of it on himself, with little time left for you.

You were nothing more than an accessory — a beautiful accessory, at that.

Otto had little desire for another child, and for that, you were eternally grateful to the Gods for allowing such a thing. It was a rarity for a man of his station to take up a wife with no intention of children. In all actuality, he simply missed his wife and yearned for her presence.

Whatever you were, you partially filled the void, but it would never be the same.

There was an emptiness within you that intensified as each day passed, a gaping hole in your body that simply collected dust. You were nothing more than a shimmering jewel for Otto to reveal in the public eye, but put away when it was all said and done.

It wasn’t a horrible existence, but you were unfulfilled. Life felt mundane, and despite the lavish and privileged setting you dwelled within, everything seemed gray, as if you were simply gazing out of a window, seeing the happiness of everyone else.

The more time you spent toiling over your woes and steeping yourself into self-resentment and hopelessness, the more restless you became. You didn’t want to keep pushing yourself into that fray of unhappiness, not when it weighed upon you so heavily already.

Appearances were sacred to Otto, who insisted you join him at the Heir’s Tournament, a celebration to usher in King Viserys and Queen Aemma’s newborn child. A joust and seven days of feasting and revelry were upon you, a routine affair whenever royal children were born.

In the Tower of the Hand, surrounded by a flock of fussing handmaidens, you smoothed your palms across the deep emerald gown, silk soft underneath your fingertips. Your beauty was unmatched — the rare jewel from the North that Otto Hightower had stolen for himself.

It would be a long day, yet the sun shimmered down upon King’s Landing and the Red Keep — a good sign of the festivities to come. You were the picture of a true maiden, not an imperfection in-sight, thanks to the handiwork of your numerous handmaidens.

A knock at your chamber door alerted you to your husband’s presence — it was always stern and rigid.

“Come!” You called, peering at yourself through the large mirror of an upright vanity. The only thing that happened to be missing was a stone around your neck, but you had an impressive array to choose from.

Otto stood within your doorway, always so formal and calculating. He was a difficult man to read — you had been wed for a handful of months, and he was still that way after all this time. “Hm.” He appraised you with a stoic gaze, unwavering and indiscernible.

Sheepishly, you turned for him to see, folding your hands together. “Is this suitable for the Tournament?” You inquired, the colors of your regalia that of House Hightower — emerald with gold embellishments.

In Otto Hightower’s eyes, you would never measure up to his first wife, his true love — but you were perfectly adequate, and that was all you needed to be. He stepped forward, staring down at you with an inkling of warmth within his eyes, tracing a finger across the soft slope of your jaw. “You look resplendent.”

That singular grain of warmth was something you would hold onto, and you mustered up enough of a smile to press a chaste kiss against Otto’s cheek. The gesture was brief, yet even the Hand himself seemed perplexed by it. You wanted to show affection, but Otto never seemed interested in reciprocating.

His kind words were enough to appease you, prompting you to smile as you bowed your head. “Thank you, husband.” Pleased by this, you made sure to string a necklace of peridot around your neck before Otto offered you his arm. It was a courtly procedure — nothing inherently affectionate about it, as you expected.

The walk to the tournament grounds was a lengthy one, but it gave you time to admire the buzz of the Red Keep. The excitement for the birth of a new Targaryen heir was palpable, felt by all you passed. Otto was always stalwart, with a pensive and unreadable expression.

Both you and Otto joined Alicent and Rhaenyra in the stands above the jousting grounds, with crowds of common folk and nobles alike joining in the rancor. Alicent seemed less than thrilled to see you, but you weren’t met with her usual icy indifference.

“Lady Hightower,” King Viserys greeted you with a kindly smile, prompting you to drop into a curtsy. “I am surprised to see that Otto brought you along. It is good to have you here.”

“It is a beautiful day, my King — I certainly hope this favor shines down upon you and your family.” You replied, offering the King a pleasant smile. Admittedly, you were rather excited to see a joust — it was good to be outside amongst your peers, not hidden away within the Tower of the Hand.

Your manners and pleasantries, the eloquent way in which you spoke to others, was a quality that Otto did admire about you. You were soft and kindhearted, possessing all of the gentle traits of a young maiden, a Lady in the making. If it weren’t for such qualities, he might’ve favored you a little less.

As you sat beside Otto, he remained rigid, gazing down upon the field. His eldest son, Gwayne, was amongst the many competitors preparing for the Joust. You had met Gwayne on a handful of occasions, and whilst he did not harbor as much bitterness as Alicent might’ve, he was still rather obtuse about your presence.

You had learned to develop a thick skin — as much as you desired to be friends to both Alicent and Gwayne, you were not their mother. You never wanted that role, either. Motherhood, especially at your young age, sounded most undesirable.

Admittedly, you were enamored with the horses, too — the beautiful beasts that carried their riders to glory, or otherwise. Your love of animals was well-known, something that Otto occasionally treated you to.

Prince Daemon Targaryen, brother to the King, rode out upon a steed as black as the dusk, bearing the Targaryen crest upon his shield. The draconic motif of his armor and helmet had made him appear fierce — a most intimidating competitor.

Otto seemed less than pleased — you knew that your husband despised the Prince, and the feeling was mutual. In your brief encounters with Daemon, often in Otto’s presence, their disdain was palpable. It was all vitriol and hatred, a constant battle for who could obtain the upper hand.

Knowing that Daemon chose Gwayne to joust to spite your husband made you somewhat apprehensive, but admittedly, sometimes you felt that Otto deserved to have his skin crawl at times. You didn’t like it for Alicent’s sake, her brother in harm’s way, but you had to stake in it.

The Prince rode forward, parading around the length of the field before he approached the royal stand, jousting lance held high. His lips curled into a lopsided smirk, and suddenly, you found that he was looking directly at you — those violet hues of his held your bashful stare.

“Lady Hightower,” He called, loud enough for those to hear it. Alicent began to stand, but Daemon shook his head. “Not you, my Lady.” He gestured toward you with his lance, sneer subtle and his eyes full of intrigue and the desire to make Otto Hightower squirm.

Visibly surprised, you looked to Otto, who seemed entirely displeased — but he wasn’t one to make his weakness known. “Otto, should I …” You trailed off, glancing toward the small table with your favor sitting atop it.

“I am fairly certain that I can win these games with ease, by having your favor, Lady Hightower.” Daemon spoke loud enough for all around to hear, inviting an audience — in all actuality, he simply wanted Otto to bear witness to charming you. “Would you do me the great pleasure of granting me your favor?”

Otto grimaced, countenance beginning to simmer with anger, deep below the surface. He bristled, jaw unnaturally tight. His fingers curled into a fist, yet he had no intention of denying you such an act, if you so desired. This was a tournament, after all — and any reaction that he gave, Daemon would indulge himself in.

Startled, you looked to Otto for approval, yet he offered you none. Reluctantly, you rose to your feet, retrieving a wreath of beautiful blossoms — gold, ochre, and shades of pink. You stepped toward the terrace’s edge, meeting the handsome visage of Daemon Targaryen, with his lance ready to receive your favor.

“Where has your husband been keeping you all this time, my Lady?” Daemon questioned, loud enough for only you to hear. Your breath hitched within your throat at his brashness, lips parting slightly as you cradled your favor between your hands.

Instead, you dipped down, offering the Prince a sheepish smile, wrought with some confusion as you tossed it onto his lance. “Good luck, my Prince. I hope to see your victory in this joust.” You nodded, keeping your formalities intact before you curtsied, swiftly clamoring to find your place beside Otto.

Daemon smirked, his gaze hot enough to melt right through you, if you let it. It never left you, even when you ascended the steps to sit beside your husband, the Rogue Prince ensured that you writhed beneath his watchful eyes.

Swallowing the growing lump within your throat, Daemon’s incendiary stare was something that you were so unaccustomed to — Otto never looked at you that way, as if you were a treasure, something to be coveted. It left you to mull over your thoughts for the entirety of the tournament.

The carnage that ensued was typical for a joust, especially one with so many warring factions. Men tore one another from their horses, dueled in the dirt, bashed skulls in. The tangy scent of copper filled the air, one that had unfortunately become ingrained in you.

It brought you back to your youth, as you recalled your sister falling from her steed, head crushed to nothingness upon the rocks. The scent of blood would always loom over you like a black cloud for as long as you lived.

Otto glanced toward you, reaching for your hand as he gave it a subtle squeeze. He did not offer any words of reassurance, lips a thin, pensive line before one of the Maesters stepped in behind him, whispering news into his ear. His expression changed instantaneously.

Something was wrong — you could feel it in your marrow.

Alicent looked to you and Otto, and you saw her fingers, picked bloody and raw, and you felt nothing but sympathy. When Otto immediately stood, letting go of your hand, you watched with a furrowed brow as he momentarily disappeared — King Viserys was long gone, absent for a majority of the Tournament.

It was only when Daemon Targaryen and Criston Cole began to duel, that your attention went elsewhere. You watched in subtle awe as Daemon fought, clad in black armor and crimson scales, the colors of House Targaryen. Dark Sister in his right hand, thrusting at the Dornish Knight with an unholy vengeance.

At last, when it ended with Daemon haughtily retreating from the field, you wondered where your husband had gone, disappearing altogether. He had left behind guards to escort you back to the Red Keep, but his absence left you feeling more afraid of the walk back.

Nonetheless, you gathered your skirts, knowing that Alicent had long since left with Rhaenyra. You didn’t worry for her safety — as long as she was with the Princess, no harm would befall her.

“The Hand advised that we take you back to the Keep at once, Lady Hightower.” One of your guards prompted, ushering you towards the stands as the pair assisted you in getting back down. There was a sense of urgency in their steps, but you were confused by it. Had something happened that required Otto’s immediate attention?

You descended the steps from the stand, finding yourself in a sea of nobles and commoners alike, attempting to return to their homes and daily lives. Your guards remained vigilant, assisting you in pushing through towards the stables. There was a quieter path there, a shorter way to the Red Keep.

“This way, my Lady.” One guard made way, allowing you to go first as you made it to the tournament stables. Many of the Knights, those that still drew breath, were collecting their coin and saddling their horses, preparing to make an exit. There was one horse in particular that caught your eye — Daemon’s steed, as black as night.

The Prince himself appeared from the obscured view of the tent, and you nearly scuttled away at the insistence of your protectors, but Daemon saw you first.

“Lady Hightower,” Daemon greeted you, voice often tinged with something sly, a hint of arrogance. Those violet eyes of his bore down upon you as he approached, still clad in his armor. There were smears of dirt upon his face, flecks of crimson, yet it did not detract from his beauty. “Have you come to praise my victory?”

The guards who stood at your flank seemed less than thrilled with this interaction that was forming. They seemed to dislike Daemon as much as Otto did — and you wondered if there was an influence present.

“We are merely passing through, to return to the Red Keep,” Your soft gaze flickered toward Daemon’s horse, admiring its flawless dark coat. “Your horse is beautiful. It served you well through the tournament.”

Daemon noticed that flicker of admiration and happiness within your eyes, coaxing the stallion closer with a mere tug of the reins. He brought it close, close enough for you to touch. “He is yours, if you want him.” His words might’ve struck you as sardonic, but Daemon appeared to be genuine in such an action.

As much as you wanted to, you couldn’t accept such a gift — and when would you have time to ride, anyway? Otto would never let you past the Keep’s gates, let alone into the forests beyond. “That is too kind of you, my Prince. I am afraid that I must decline — it would be unfair to have a horse that I cannot give any attention to.” You sighed, your features somewhat melancholy.

Fascinating — quite the ironic parallel to your own situation. If you did not see the amusement in it, Daemon most certainly did. “How thoughtful of you, Lady Hightower.” He hesitated, lips twitching into a rather mocking smirk at his next words. “Where is that charming husband of yours?”

You should’ve been offended on Otto’s behalf, especially with the Prince’s contemptuous tone, but you felt nothing. You couldn’t retort, mouth becoming dry as you cleared your throat. “My husband found himself preoccupied with duties as Hand, my Prince. He needed to leave.”

Daemon scoffed, lip curling slightly as he glanced toward your guards. “So he left you with this pathetic display of protection?” The Prince immediately drew the ire of the guards, who seemed less than pleased with Daemon’s remarks. “I could gut them before they could draw their swords.”

“Is that a threat, Commander?” One of your guards hissed, grip tightening upon the pommel of his shortsword. The weight of the scenario made you nervous, prompting you to direct your gaze toward Daemon, whose mouth was upturned in an amused smirk.

“Hardly. It is a promise.” Daemon retorted, hands interlocked atop the pommel of Dark Sister — a legendary blade of Valyrian Steel. You knew that your feeble guards were no match to a swordsman of Daemon’s caliber.

Before steel could be brandished, you immediately extended your hand, anxiousness welling within your heart. It frightened you to be so close to potential violence, but you had some station. “Enough — all of you!” You quipped, hands beginning to quiver.

Daemon chuckled, seemingly perplexed by your sudden display of authority. He did not dispute your call for peace, staring at your guards with a narrowed gaze. “If you are seeking better company than these fucking imbeciles, I will gladly escort you to the Red Keep, Lady Hightower.”

You shouldn’t — Otto would be so displeased.

Every fiber of your body screamed at you to turn away Prince Daemon’s proposal. It was improper, and you knew that your Lord husband would become cantankerous if he were to find out that Daemon was near you, let alone providing passage back to the Red Keep.

He could sense your hesitation, born out of loyalty to your withering husband, Daemon assumed. The conflict that danced within your eyes was one that he wholly intended on manipulating — you were much too sweet. The Prince clicked his tongue, awaiting your response.

“It isn’t a difficult question, my Lady.” Perhaps, his tone might’ve put you off just a little bit, but he was confident that you would accept. Daemon regarded you with those lilac hues of his, calculating and sly.

“Yes,” You interjected, much to the disdain of your guards, “but my guards will stay with me.” It was the smartest option — if you were left alone with Daemon, you feared what rumors could be spun from such an action. You were naive at times, but not completely stupid.

Daemon knew this — he knew your intentions, but he also knew his own. With a sardonic laugh, he readied his belongings, gesturing to take your leave onto the cobblestone streets. “Do you have such little trust in your Prince?”

A ripple of heat fluttered over your features, subsiding just as quickly as it came. You twisted your hands together, fingers interlocked as you fell quiet. Daemon’s salacious reputation followed him like a shadow — violent, promiscuous, and arrogant. It was common knowledge that the Prince possessed crude interests.

“It is not that, my Prince. My Lord Husband will wonder why the guards are at the Keep before I am. I do not want him to worry — he has enough to attend to as it is as Hand of the King.” A threadbare excuse, at best, but much to your relief, Daemon let the matter rest, for now.

The violet-eyed Prince let out a scoff at that, yet he elected not to fluster you further. Your announcement of Otto’s station was most amusing, as if he needed reminding. He joined you, walking side-by-side as you made it onto the noble path back to the Red Keep. It was a safer trek than taking the commoner’s route.

Silence filled the gap between you both, with your guards tailing you and Daemon, ensuring that no one interfered with such royal affairs. He was growing quite bored with the lack of conversation — especially with someone like you. You were interesting and new, something to be inspected.

“Isn’t it the duty of a husband to attend to his wife?” Daemon questioned, attempting to toy with you. He thoroughly enjoyed getting under Otto Hightower’s skin, but admittedly, he did want to know more about you. You were beautiful — a pretty maiden hanging upon the Hand’s arm; he wondered how that came to be.

Your jaw tightened, causing your frustration to brew as you held your skirts within one hand, continuing to make your way up the steps. “Why are you not in the Vale with Lady Royce, if that is what you truly think?” You quipped, somewhat unnerved with how he picked apart your marriage.

Otto wasn’t attentive — if anything, he only became attentive when appearances mattered most. There was no desire nor genuine interaction outside of that. You lived a very lonely life, even if it seemed so wonderful and lavish on the outside.

Daemon chuckled, bemused by your fiery retort. You became so flustered whenever he successfully managed to poke and prod at you. “I’ve no interest in my Bronze Bitch,” He replied, his tone dripping with an underlying venom, “The sheep in the Vale are prettier.”

You huffed, brows furrowing together. This seemed like a horrible idea, allowing Daemon to escort you back to the Keep. He was crass and unpredictable, yet you couldn’t help but find some merit in his examination of your relationship with Otto.

“I am sure that there are plenty of worthwhile subjects in your City to keep you satisfied, my Prince. This isn’t the Vale.” You exhaled, exasperated and agitated that Otto had simply left you at the Tournament grounds.

He could sense it — your repression, the twinge of desperation laced within your voice. Daemon didn’t expect any wife of Otto Hightower to be truly sated and satisfied, but you were the true picture of a jewel locked away in a chest, or hidden beneath mounds of soot. No one had bothered to truly see you as you were.

Emboldened, Daemon knew that tempting you with pretty words could have consequences — fortunately for him, he didn’t care in the slightest. “The only worthwhile subject is standing before me.” He countered, lips twitching into the ghost of a smirk.

A shiver ran down the length of your spine, heart galloping just a little faster when Daemon brazenly showered you in his silver-tongued sayings. You hadn’t been spoken to in such a manner before, and as much as you should’ve countered it, you didn’t.

Heat crept through your features as you kept your head down, chewing at the inside of your cheek. “I do not know what you speak of, my Prince.” Your reply was weak, soft spoken as you continued on your path back to the Red Keep. You didn’t want to reveal just how warm it made you feel.

“I believe you do,” Daemon mused, stepping close enough to you to ensure that the guards wouldn’t eavesdrop. “Surely, your Lord Husband has offered you such pleasure before, has he not?” His Valyrian timbre made your breath hitch within your throat.

“Prince Daemon,” You were in disbelief at his brashness, at how forward he was being with you. You didn’t want to indulge him — yet part of you did. “You must stop.” Your voice was barely above a whisper, strained and throaty. The silence became overwhelming as you made it toward the gates of the Red Keep.

When his name rolled from your tongue, Daemon’s lilac hues glistened with something indiscernible. He enjoyed the way you said his name — trembling and uncertain, as if he had revealed some horrible truth to you. Instead, the Prince stared at you, looking toward the gates.

“As you wish,” Daemon’s arrogance wafted from him like a thick haze, enough to permeate your immediate space. The Prince opted to shift the subject matter to something more appropriate — for your own sake, of course. “I suspect that I will have a nephew, soon enough.”

Daemon sounded indifferent, as if the prospect of a nephew wasn’t at all a pleasant idea. It would make him lower in the ranking of succession, you knew this. Otto had made multiple campaigns against Daemon to keep him from reaching the Iron Throne. Their rivalry was petty, as far as you were concerned.

Your steps slowed, keeping pace with Daemon as you made your way to the gates of the Red Keep. “You don’t sound very jovial, for an uncle.” You replied, and your observation seemed to catch his attention. “King Viserys is your brother. Are you not excited?”

A scoff escaped him as he stared at you, violet hues narrowing at your perceptiveness. “Is that how I seem to you, Lady Hightower? Devoid of joy?” Daemon smiled disparagingly, perching a palm atop the pommel of his blade.

Swallowing the slight lump within your throat, you detected his shackled fury, and you did not want to provoke the dragon any further. “My apologies, your Grace. I did not mean to be presumptuous.” You replied, fingers curling into your skirts.

“Of course you didn’t,” Daemon mused, lips twitching into a sardonic smirk. He seemed to believe you — though, part of your line of questioning felt personal, in retaliation for his jabs about your Lord Husband. “Have you been permitted to see the Dragonpit?”

Of the many places in King’s Landing, Daemon often longed to be on the back of Caraxes — or with his blade driven into any that crossed his path. You hadn’t been to see the Dragonpit yourself, considering that a lady of your station could never go many places unaccompanied.

“No, my Prince.” Disappointment danced within your voice, pace slowing again to keep in-step with Daemon. “I would love to see it, if allowed. Dragons are gorgeous creatures, symbols of your strength.” With a soft sigh, you looked to the Red Keep, looming overhead.

Daemon stepped closer, in close quarters as he looked down at you, noticing the subtle hitch within your throat. “Hm,” He glanced at your stalwart escorts, lilac eyes flickering over your pretty countenance. He dipped closer, lips ghosting near the shell of your ear. “Should your husband release you from your shackles, I could show you.”

A strange wave of gooseflesh crawled along the length of your spine, brows furrowing together as you recoiled, as if being scorched. You looked to Daemon with bewilderment, lip curling slightly as you regained your composure. “Your offer is a gracious one, your Grace.” You murmured.

It often shocked you how reckless Daemon was — abrasive and careless with his position. He could bed whomever he wanted, fuck and fight whenever it best suited him. It wasn’t a possibility for you, a noblewoman married to the Hand of the King. Part of you wished you could be afforded the liberties of a man like Daemon, but it was merely a fantasy.

Silence drifted between the both of you, enough to bring you some discomfort as you heard the doors to the Red Keep creak open. Daemon’s incendiary stare never wavered, never faltered as he kept his eyes on you. Your guardsmen were less than thrilled, but kept quiet as the two of you stepped into the hall.

“This is where I bid you farewell, my Prince.” Your voice was shrewd, nothing more than the soft lull of a mouse. Daemon regarded you with the ghost of a smirk, bowing before you as any gentleman would.

“I look forward to our next meeting, Lady Hightower.” Daemon replied, glancing toward a group of Targaryen guards that made their way to him. Your own escorts were happy to take advantage of the gap in attention, whisking you away into the depths of the Red Keep.

The atmosphere had shifted, from jovial and celebratory to eerie and desolate, somber — servants and nobles alike seemed riddled with melancholy, their heads hung low. Whispers of a fallen heir touched your ears, and then you understood why Otto had left in such a hurry.

Queen Aemma and her newborn son were dead.

You remembered what the air smelled like, the day of your sister’s funeral — you recalled the swaying of golden grass against stone, those in-mourning unable to stifle their tears. It was your mother that had wailed the most, draped across the terrace where her body lay, cloaked by a funerary shroud.

Now, the memories seemed to dance along the fringes of your mind, standing within the open plain far from King’s Landing, along the coastline of Blackwater Bay. Salty air peppered your flesh in soft kisses, eyes stinging with the onslaught of tears.

The despondent look on King Viserys’s face had harkened back to your youth, moments that still haunted your steps. You stood beside Otto, who appeared resolute despite the tragedy, but even you could see the wisps of empathy that flickered across his countenance. Stoicism was his forte, but even death could break the strongest man apart.

Daemon appeared somber, violet hues occasionally drifting toward his brother, the King, who let out a muffled sob as Rhaenyra set the funeral pyre ablaze. Dragon’s fire would return dragons to ash, to the great beyond. You admired the strength of the Princess, even through dour moments like this.

Once the burning of Queen Aemma and Baelon had ended, what nobles were left gathered amongst themselves to pay their respects, to the deceased and to the King. Viserys seemed indifferent, so far removed from the moment as his subjects offered their condolences.

Otto’s hand pressed into the small of your back, the first comforting gesture that he’d offered, completely unprovoked. He dipped down, enough to murmur words reserved for you and him. “The King will need my council during these dark times,” He uttered, “Now more than ever.”

You nodded, knowing that it implied Otto would be less present than he already was. His lips briefly graced the crown of your head before he slipped past, stepping towards King Viserys and Rhaenyra.

Standing alone, you opted to wander, venturing away from the melancholy gathering and toward the sea of wheatgrass that danced with the saltwater breeze. The scent of the ocean filled your lungs, made them whole — it was far better than that of King’s Landing.

Rays of a dying sun sparkled down upon you, licking your flesh with a comforting warmth that you savored. It was enough to make you exhale, eyes fluttering shut as you imagined yourself worlds away, or perhaps sailing out to sea, where it was only your hands that guided you.

The evening breeze jostled your tresses, blanketing your face with its softness. The tears that had prickled your eyes no longer made residence there as you hastily wiped them aside, hands wringing together before you.

Footsteps reverberated from your left side, as the shape of Prince Daemon came into your view. Despite the whirlwind of emotions he’d left you with earlier that day, you were inclined to place them aside. His dark tunic, lined in dragonscales, glittered beneath the waning sunlight.

“I am deeply sorry for your loss, Prince Daemon. I cannot imagine the pain of losing two of your family in one day,” You murmured, lips forming a pensive line as you looked at the Targaryen. He was unusually quiet for a spell, which prompted you to fill in the void. “I hope that your brother will recover.”

“He is the Dragon,” Daemon echoed, hands folded in front of him. “He will endure.” As for the Prince, there was some discomfort knowing that such a bloody fate had befallen Aemma. His sister-by-law had always been a devoted wife and good mother, and such a loving woman was difficult to come by. “My sister was a good woman.”

You had met Queen Aemma on multiple occasions, and she was pure — softhearted and kind, with a gentle visage that was sure to put anyone at ease. “She was,” You lamented, echoing Daemon’s sentiments with a threadbare smile. “And a good Queen.”

That was something Daemon could not argue with, violet hues finally shifting away from the horizon and onto you, a picture of beauty. Even in black tapestries, the color of mourning, you were still rather enchanting. Tenderness blossomed from within you, a soft heart — it was enough to temper Daemon, for just a moment.

He searched your visage, able to detect the growing dolour that became etched into your features. Your eyes glistened with unshed tears, many that threatened to spill over as you twisted your fingers together. “The last funeral that I attended was that of my sister,” You uttered, facing Daemon with a bitter smile. “I hoped that I would not have to attend another.”

A sister — Daemon was somewhat inquisitive regarding the finer details of your life, but he did not want to pry at the present. “Unfortunately, you will find that death is constant and unyielding,” He offered little consolation, but it was the hard truth. “Though, I trust that you will endure, just as my brother will.”

Daemon was often harsh and crass, always a realist with little desire to pull the wool over another’s eyes unless it was for personal gain. He knew that you were sweet, too malleable for this world — he hoped to see you blossom into something strong. With Otto Hightower for a husband, any woman would become as tough as steel.

Part of you wished for flowery words of reassurance from Daemon, but you found none — just a stoicism with an inkling of empathy. Though, you weren’t expecting much, and Otto would be of little comfort, too.

“You are more than just a wife, if you choose it. Do not allow yourself to sit underneath his boot forever.” Daemon murmured, boldly stepping inward to get a better look at you. Your subdued nature was partially Otto’s fault — he blamed the Hand for your sheltered demeanor, for your loneliness.

A brief stirring sensation erupted within your chest, and you looked to Daemon, a singular tear spilling across your forlorn features. “I do not have your luxuries, my Prince — I cannot bed whom I want, go wherever I please, abandon my husband — duty is everything. It may not mean anything to you, but it means something to me.” You quipped, your voice hushed yet strained.

Daemon huffed, lips curling slightly, as if to express disdain. Part of him understood your deep-rooted frustration, but perhaps he simply wanted to pass on his recklessness to you. “Quite presumptuous of you to assume that I care little for duty,” He replied, easily crawling beneath your skin. “You can do whatever you please, once you stop being so afraid.”

You nearly recoiled from him, clearly stung by the attack on your character. His assumption of your fear made you bristle, nostrils flaring as you turned your face away to mask the swell of anger. “This is where I leave you, Prince Daemon.” You hissed between gritted teeth, hands curled into fistfuls within your skirts.

He found your irritation to be somewhat perplexing — you were so repressed, tangled within your devotion to Otto and constant desolation. Daemon said nothing, merely watching as you retreated into the shadow of your Lord Husband.

You wouldn’t dare look back at Daemon — even as you felt those lilac hues pierce your defenses, you refused him, and made your way back with Otto.

If it were up to you, you would never see Daemon Targaryen again.

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐑𝐞𝐝 𝐊𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰, 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 — there was no joy to be found anywhere. With the King’s son and wife deceased, the idea of succession was called into question by the small Council. Part of you felt disgusted by the suddenness of such a meeting, especially while the King was in mourning.

Otto cared little for such things. It was imperative that an heir be chosen — or produced yet again, by means of a new betrothal for the King.

Despite the melancholy atmosphere of the Keep, your thoughts remained disorganized and scattered, preoccupied with Daemon Targaryen — and that was a dangerous thing. After his whispered inquiry of pleasure, his berating of you at the funeral, you could not rid him from your mind no matter how much you tried.

Any attempt to flush the Prince’s brazen advances out of your mind were met with a powerful resistance — the other half of you that had little desire to forget. In all honesty, you wanted to know what it was like to be coveted and sought-after, to feel true pleasure, understand its intricacies.

The other half demanded that you reject him, unleash your shackled wrath upon him. He vexed you like no other had before — he far exceeded that of Otto. Daemon had crawled beneath your flesh and taken up permanent residency there, and he would continue to do so unless you plucked up the courage to put a stop to it.

That night, you couldn’t sleep — Otto was nowhere to be found, meeting within the dead of night with the rest of the small Council. Even if he weren’t caught within a meeting, he seldom came to bed with you. He was often in his study, mulling over books, writing letters, attending to matters that didn’t involve you.

You were never involved in much of anything.

Frustration festered within you, rising like the swell of an encroaching tide. Clad in your evening gown, you retrieved a candlestick, slipping out of the Tower of the Hand and into the corridors of the Red Keep. Midnight strolls were not an uncommon thing for you, but this one proved to be more than just elusive sleep.

Your path led you dangerously close to the Small Council chambers, but as you approached, a figure stood outside of one wall, leering in through the tiny gaps. Light slipped through, providing faint illumination onto the face of Daemon Targaryen.

The Prince had been eavesdropping, curious to know about their intentions for succession. Should Viserys pass, the Iron Throne would fall to Daemon — but they wouldn’t allow it. Otto, in particular, was rather vocal in the push against Daemon as the rightful heir.

Daemon turned, craning to peer over his shoulder. Those shadowed, lilac hues drifted across you, your supple form glad in some lace-laden nightgown. Your hair had been pinned-up when he saw you last, and now, it was freed from its confines. He found you to be a visual feast for the eyes — beautiful beyond compare.

In the background, you listened to the squabbling from the Council members, the infighting over who would become heir. It disgusted you, the manner in which they conducted themselves — the Queen and her son were deceased, and the only thing that preoccupied them were the rights of succession.

The silence that lingered between you and Daemon was necessary, necessary enough for you to hear the numerous slanders that your Lord Husband hurled at the Prince. Their hatred continued to fester, and for as long as Otto Hightower lived and thrived in a position of power, he would plague Daemon’s every step.

At last, Daemon stepped away from his eavesdropping, moving towards you instead. “Looking for your husband, Lady Hightower?” He questioned, his voice rich as it dipped lower, hushed and soft enough for only you to hear. The narrow corridor you stood within was as silent as a crypt, not a guard in-sight.

You shook your head, lowering the candle toward your chest. Warmth brushed across your exposed collarbone, and you glanced at Daemon, lips parting slightly. “I could not sleep,” You confessed, teeth gnawing at your lower lip. “I suspect that you are here for a different reason.”

Concealed within the listless shadows of the corridor, Daemon took a step closer, nearly within arm’s reach. His mouth curled into that familiar, cheshire smirk — and it worried you. “What reason would that be, my Lady?” He questioned, head canting slightly.

The calculated way in which he stalked towards you left you feeling somewhat unnerved, hand cupped around the flickering light of the candle. Whatever look he had in his eyes, it mirrored the one he’d given you at the Tournament earlier that day — incendiary and lascivious.

“To see if you will ascend the Throne.” Daemon’s ambition was well-known — and sometimes, his ambition drove him to recklessness and ruthlessness. You knew about his displays of violence as Commander of the City Watch, his prowess with a blade.

Daemon scoffed, continuing to press closer to you, looming above you. The candlelight flickered across his sharp visage, basking him in an orange glow that touched his violet hues. His lips remained permanently fixed into a perplexed smirk, his hand reaching to grab your chin.

As if scorched, you jerked away, brows furrowing together as you glowered at him. “I do not want to see you anymore,” You mumbled, shaking your head with an air of defiance. “You’ve angered me.”

A sardonic chuckle escaped him, enough to further your agitation. It pricked away at your flesh, giving way to a layer of perspiration as it crept along your spine. “Angered you, is that it?” Daemon questioned, attempting to make you writhe. “If you truly wish to be rid of me, walk away — go back to the Hand’s bed.” He challenged.

Your heart slammed within your sternum, lip curling in disdain as you shook your head. The tension crackled between the two of you, one charged with a dangerous desire and anger — two overpowering emotions. “All you care for is the throne.” You whispered, yet your words held no merit at all.

It was something Otto would’ve hurled at him, and you were not your husband — you were far from it.

It was a feeble attempt to bait Daemon into anger just as he had so easily baited you. He was not quick to fall to your ploy, and instead, he happened to stare at you as if you were everything he’d ever wanted. It made you shiver — no one had looked at you like that before.

“You think me so singleminded, Lady Hightower,” He uttered, thumb tracing along your jawline. “I have little interest in the Throne.” In an unexpected move, he dipped forward, lips ghosting around the shell of your ear. “I am far more interested in you.”

Goosebumps cascaded down the length of your spine, and fear rippled through you at Daemon’s close quarters. You were terrified of someone seeing you with the Prince, and you stepped back, wrenching yourself free from his grasp. “This is inappropriate, my Prince. I am afraid you are experiencing a severe lapse in judgment.”

As you began to retreat away from the Council chambers and into the darkness of the corridor, Daemon followed, a predator trailing after prey. He cornered you into an alcove, his chuckle bemused and sardonic.

“My judgment is sound — the only judgment that will be called into question is your own,” He challenged, pinning you against the smooth stone of the wall. His hand cupped your hip, keeping you locked into place. “My poor, sweet Lady Hightower, left untouched and without a lick of attention from your dutiful husband.” Daemon clicked his tongue.

You shuddered, attempting to squirm and ward Daemon away, but he simply kept up his pursuit. “Please,” You whispered, fright filling your startled heart. The Prince’s lust had grown astronomically — all for you, this hidden jewel now within his grasp. “We can’t, Prince Daemon. Someone might see.” You urged.

Daemon seemed unconvinced, lips hovering above your own, tempting you in the most unholy way imaginable. That strong hand that held your hip began to knead into the flesh there, desiring to feel your bare skin. “Fuck everyone else.” He uttered, hot breath fanning across your countenance.

A soft whimper escaped you, and every fiber of your being cried out for him — you wanted this, wanted him to show you what true pleasure felt like. You watched as he inclined his head, blowing the candle out with a faint grin, leaving the both of you in darkness, save for the moonlight that pooled within the halls.

“I can’t, I don’t …” You whispered, voice mousy and meek, yet your resolve was crumbling away, revealing your soul, bare and angry. Part of you loathed Otto for never showing you affection, never indulging in desire, yet the other half of you yearned for the Rogue Prince to steal your virtue. “Daemon.”

It was guilt that had consumed you, initially — the guilt of betraying your husband, despite his lack of desire towards you. You never had anything for yourself — perhaps this could be the one thing. A clenched fist pushed against his chest, but you were weak.

“Why continue to wait for something that will never come, hm? Toil over a man that doesn’t want you?” Daemon questioned, his voice dropping to a sultry octave, a purr that raked across your spine. His hand began to gather your gown, bunching it up to allow him easier access.

“You — You vex me,” You whimpered, knowing that you were simply a rabbit trapped within the maw of a dragon, and perhaps, that was where you wanted to be. “You don’t want me.” It was a valiant attempt to talk yourself out of it, to convince yourself that you were unwanted.

Daemon peppered a string of hot kisses along your jaw, grabbing at your chin to tip your head back. “You don’t know what I want.” He murmured, his stare shadowed with lust. He kissed the side of your face, forehead briefly resting against yours as you considered the sin that you were about to commit.

It was liberating when you no longer thought of sin, and simply thought of your own needs and wants.

His unspoken pressure finally broke your carefully-constructed barrier, and you leaned upwards, rocking forward until you crashed into him. You dropped the candlestick, yet it made little noise. Your lips, soft and compliant, melded with his own — domineering and triumphant. Need blistered through, and he kissed you with such blazing passion.

You felt his other hand shamelessly move toward your neck, flexing underneath your jaw as he kissed you over and over again. You hadn’t experienced such passion before — and you never wanted it to end.

Daemon coaxed you closer, countenance one of sheer lust and possessiveness. His thumb traced across your lower lip, hand snug around your throat before he looked elsewhere. “Fucking is a pleasure, for a woman as it is a man,” He uttered, noticing the hitch in your throat. “I am certain your Lord Husband never bothered with it.”

Abashed, you shook your head, reveling in the sensation of his hand firmly kneading into your hip. “No, my Prince. He did not,” You paused, your hand finding its way to his chest, fingers curling into his tunic. “Would you show me?” It was a fine line, a perilous one — but you did not care, not anymore.

You hadn’t felt desire quite like this in your life — but you wanted it, more than anything else. The void within you, repression tangled up into a ball wound so tightly that it might explode — Daemon stoked the fire, and he seemed eager to let you come undone. You wanted Daemon.

In High Valyrian, he spoke one word. “Māzigon.” Come — Daemon’s hand slipped around yours, urging you away from the small Council chambers and into the depths of the Red Keep. Your trek led you to unfamiliar parts of the castle, some left untouched and unused.

The dust-laden doors led you to a small study, sparsely furnished, yet all Daemon truly needed was a surface wide enough to bear your body. There was a chaise lounge, with a thick direwolf’s hide serving as the rug in front of the darkened hearth. The remnants of an old, four-post bed sat off within the room somewhere, just as dour as the rest of the room.

No one would find you here.

Moonlight pooled through the two large windows, enough for you to see his porcelain, perfect features, tinged with silver. His platinum tresses turned to white, violet hues drinking you in with a ravenous hunger. Rapture and lust, a smoldering desire to make you give into him.

Daemon’s hands cupped either side of your neck, thumb pressing into the underside of your jaw at the other flicked against your lower lip. “Tepagon ezīmagon nyke,” He purred, towering over you as he dipped down, kissing along your jaw. “Take off your clothes.” His command was stern yet dripping with carnality.

If it weren’t for the sheer intensity of the moment, you might’ve become flustered, but instead, your hands flew toward the ribbons and ties of your gown. You shrugged the lace-laden shawl aside, allowing the garment to simply drop around your feet.

Your body was perfect — Daemon wanted it all for himself. If the Hand would not indulge in you, then he would. The Prince let out a low hum, admiring your silky flesh and delicate curves, hand skimming from the hollow of your throat to your breasts.

“For this to be hidden away for so long,” Daemon uttered, hand moving to greedily cup your breast. It elicited a sweet gasp from you, unexpected yet exhilarating. “Is a fucking crime.” He growled, and without another word, he moved to kiss you, like fire washing over you, all-consuming and devouring.

Instinct drove you as your hands clamored to the nape of his neck, tugging at the silken crown of pale tresses there. Daemon seemed pleased by this, teeth grazing along your lower lip before he bit down, eliciting a whine from you. He thoroughly enjoyed the feeling of you underneath his palm — as soft as velvet.

His tongue lapped across your lower lip, soothing the ache brought about by the sharp bite of his teeth. He kissed you hard, lips parted, the action warm and wet — he imagined tasting something else, head clouded with the unshakable haze of lust.

“Daemon,” You whimpered, abandoning all titles and formalities. He no longer referred to you as Lady Hightower — that wasn’t who you were anymore, not to him. One of your palms dropped to his chest, hesitantly fiddling with the ties of his tunic. “I want to see you.”

Perplexed, the Prince kissed your throat, head canting to one side. “Have you seen a man before, jorrāelagon?” He questioned, partially bemused yet curious to hear your answer. His affectionate High Valyrian caught your attention, causing a small tremor to roll along the base of your spine.

Sheepishly, you shook your head. Otto had never bothered to bear himself at all, and to some extent, you could understand — he was aging, and the attraction was most certainly slim. “No, I haven’t — but I’d like to.” You shivered when Daemon pulled you close, palm cupping your hip before it brazenly traveled to your haunch.

Any sliver of space between the two of you became nonexistent, replaced with heat and tension, bodies entangled into one. Your digits danced along the collar of his dragonscale tunic, imagining what strength and prowess rested beneath.

Instead, he peered at your wandering fingers, brows briefly lifting as if to encourage you. “Go on, then.” Daemon coaxed, his voice somewhat gravelly and pitched lower, interlaced with a burning desire. He watched with rapture as you slowly unfastened the ties and buckles of his tunic.

Daemon thought about being rough — grabbing your throat and fucking you into the lounge without a second thought, but he wanted to explore you. Your repression wasn’t your fault, and he felt some sense of triumph in fucking the wife of the Hand.

He shrugged his tunic aside, letting the garment fall to join the pool of lace and silk upon the floor. He was pale and well-muscled, a vision of perfection. Your hands began to glide across his broad shoulders, and then to his chest and abdomen.

Admittedly, Daemon savored the sensation of you touching him, exploring him — something about it was sickly sweet. “Have you touched yourself before, my Lady?” Daemon asked, pointed and unwilling to go without a direct answer.

Flustered, you nodded, seemingly embarrassed in regards to such actions. “Yes,” You exhaled, skin hot to the touch. “I know I shouldn’t have, but —“ Daemon stopped you with a kiss, hungry and needy, teeth nipping at your mouth with a subtle growl.

“Afraid that your Lord Husband will admonish you for it?” The Prince smirked, violet eyes glinting with a twinge of humor. Your expression reflected a whirlwind of emotions — from desire, lust, and embarrassment to a flicker of sadness and frustration. Daemon decided to leave it all alone and focus on you.

He coaxed you toward the plush velvet of the chaise lounge, sitting down with an unceremonious thud. Daemon was quick to collect you into his lap, all perfect and spread for him. A lustful silence filled the void between you both as he kissed your neck, calloused hands gripping the swell of your hips.

“Allow me to rectify your husband’s wrongs,” Daemon chided, kissing along the hollow of your throat, teeth sinking into your sensitive flesh. You moaned and whined, writhing atop him, chest pressed against his. “You are beautiful.” He said with such assurance, causing you to shudder.

Daemon’s ring-adorned hand snaked along the length of your body, finding the apex between your thighs, warm and slick with arousal. As soon as his thumb and forefinger slipped past your folds, you lurched forward, letting out a gasp of surprise.

The sensation was foreign yet pleasurable, like an electrifying jolt rolling down your spine. His mouth relentlessly assaulted your sweet flesh, leaving behind a myriad of bites and less than desirable markings. Your scent — a concoction of lavish perfumes and oils — invaded his senses like a thick haze.

His digits deliberately explored your cunt, every touch eliciting some strangled sound from you. You felt his fingers tease your entrance before sliding back towards your clit, flicking across that sensitive clutch of nerves. Your heart pounded within your chest, slamming against your breastbone like a drum.

“Daemon,” You moaned, back arching as you absentmindedly leaned into the Prince’s embrace. One of your palms molded itself to his bicep, the other continued to clutch at the nape of his neck. “Please, don’t stop!” With a needy whine, your hips rolled forward, attempting to gain a lick of friction. You wanted him to keep touching you there — forever, if he could.

His thumb languidly circled your clit, other digits sliding against your cunt. You squirmed and careened forward, insides hot as liquid warmth pooled between your thighs. It felt incredible — it was everything you’d ever wanted and more. Nothing could compare to the bliss that rolled through you.

The Prince continued with assailing your flesh, kissing his way across your collarbone, dipping low enough to find the perfect swell of your breasts. A low rumble resonated through Daemon’s chest, one of clear approval as he took one of your nipples into his mouth, kissing and sucking on the hardened peak.

A strangled whimper escaped you, one of clear delight. You hadn’t experienced any of this before — you wanted more, as much as Daemon was willing to give you. You gasped when his teeth dragged across your breast, causing you to jolt forward.

Ensuring that you would be well tended-to, Daemon sank his fingers forward, vigorously tracing across your cunt as his thumb did a majority of the work. Ripples of bliss rolled across your body in waves, and you rocked forward enough to ride his hand.

“Daemon!” You moaned, feeling his mouth drift away from your chest to the hollow of your throat. His teeth were sudden and sharp, nipping and biting wherever he pleased, one hand steadying you atop his lap. The other began to snake towards your neck, calloused digits able to feel the pounding of your heartbeat.

You whimpered his name as if it were the only word you knew — and for as sinful as it felt, you found yourself abandoning all sense of care and propriety. Daemon made you feel incredible, in ways that you had merely dreamed of.

As Daemon traced two digits along your slick entrance, his lilac hues fell across your visage, searching for any signs of hesitation. You felt the brief pressure, one hand comfortably sitting at the nape of his neck, the other gripping at his shoulder.

Deliberately, he began to sink two fingers inside of you, watching as your countenance blossomed into a look of bliss and startlement. Daemon soothed your worry with a kiss, head canting to one side as to deepen it, and you followed, flesh crawling with warmth.

A soft, smothered moan escaped you as he gingerly eased both digits in and out of your tight cunt, enough to make you gasp. The sensation was foreign yet incredible, enough for you to rock forward, brow furrowed in concentration. Daemon continued to litter your neck in kisses and bites, hand groping the swell of your plush hips.

“There she is,” Daemon growled against the hollow of your throat, lips traveling upward until they collided against yours. It was a messy, hot kiss, one that made your stomach slosh with molten heat. “A woman deprived of pleasure.” He murmured, prompting you to kiss him again, needy and desperate.

Some sliver of you knew how wrong this was — the infidelity, the disloyalty to your Lord husband, the selfishness that weighed upon you — you should’ve been aghast. Yet, in the heat of the moment, you thought little of it, content to let Daemon Targaryen finger-fuck you into a blissful oblivion.

You were lost to your own ecstasy, thoroughly reveling in the myriad of sensations you were now getting to experience. “Daemon,” You sighed against his mouth, feeling his teeth briefly scrape across your lower lip. “I want more.” A groan escaped you as his digits began to still, thumb circling your clit.

As he slowly removed his fingers from your tight heat, Daemon brazenly groped at your breast, pale brows furrowing together as he began to untie the laces of his trousers. You steeled yourself, feeling a brief pang of anxiousness strike at your gut. You knew that it was supposed to hurt, and the very thought frightened you.

“More?” Daemon echoed, the shadow of lust dancing within his eyes as he deposited you onto the lounge, hands seizing your ankles as he dragged you to the precipice. Without pause, he sank to his knees, broad and beautiful between your legs as he kissed your thigh. “You’ll have to beg me for it.”

You exhaled, sharp and excitable as your hand fell to the edge of the chaise lounge, nails digging into the wood and velvet. “Please,” You whispered, shifting atop the cushion as Daemon bit at your soft flesh. “Please, Daemon!” The sound that left you was pathetic — simpering, even.

He enjoyed hearing you whine — it was a stark reminder of what Otto Hightower could never have. Daemon’s mouth maintained the barest hint of a smirk, pressing a string of kisses toward the warmth between your legs. You were silk and saccharine beneath his fingertips, feverishly warm.

The first stroke of his tongue raked hot embers across your cunt, a sensation that set you ablaze. Whimpers turned to ash within your throat, flesh unnaturally hot — you melted beneath Daemon, and that was exactly what he wanted.

A shiver coursed down your spine, hips canting forward toward Daemon’s mouth. His breath was hot, warm wisps of air fanning out across your slit. It was heavenly — you nearly forgot yourself, moaning his name as you fisted the cushions on either side of you.

His hum was satisfactory, tongue dancing along your weeping core, drinking you in like a fine wine. The cool, silver bite of his ring dug into your hips, his grip ironclad, enough to leave bruises behind.

If Daemon had it his way, he would bruise you again — in the light of day, able to see his marks etched into your flesh, knowing that they were his creation. Possessiveness swelled within him, an ugly and festering thing — he wanted you terribly.

Pleasure rippled through you, consuming every fiber of your being. Daemon’s mouth found your clit, suckling at the clutch of fiery nerves. You gasped, nails digging into your palm, thighs attempting to rub together, kept apart by the Prince’s broad shoulders.

“Daemon,” You moaned, your jaw falling slack as you rolled forward into his maw. A soft huff escaped you as his tongue caressed your cunt, returning to assail your clit again. It was bliss overwhelming, prompting you to reach for his shoulders. “Daemon!”

Tension furled within the pit of your stomach, a familiar knot of ecstasy that brought you closer to the edge. Daemon’s mouth sluggishly receded, peppering kisses and love bites along your inner thighs. He licked his lower lip, violet hues threatening to burn through you.

Your chest rose and fell with the throes of excitement, skin prickling with anticipation. Daemon kissed your hip, moving to stand between your legs. He loomed over you, physique eclipsing all inklings of firelight — a shadow of desire.

He stepped back toward the mound of furs, silently gesturing for you to follow. “Lie down.” Daemon purred, his voice more of a lascivious command instead of a question. With a simple pull, he loosened the strings of his smallclothes, gaze hooded.

A whimper nearly erupted from your throat, never coming to fruition as you stood from the lounge, following Daemon’s lead. You slipped down onto the furs, with only the moonlight as your guide. Your legs parted for him, expectant and waiting.

The loss of one’s maidenhead was often rumored to be an intense and bloody affair — it no longer frightened you like it used to. Daemon stepped out of his leather trousers, bare and statuesque before you, a porcelain god come to claim you.

Moonlight bathed his flesh in a sea of silver, pale rays dancing across his ivory complexion. There was something calculating and predatory in the way he moved, a confidence that few possessed. He sank down, crawling between your legs as he reached your mouth.

Lips clashed again, a dance of desire as the head of his cock brazenly brushed along your slick cunt. Daemon was sizable, to be sure, a man with a plethora of experience. You shuddered when he planted a hand beside your head, the other gripping your hip.

Again, the head of his length threatened to split past your folds, oozing with tendrils of precum as he kissed you once more. It was ravenous, with all the ferocity and vigor of a dragon as he prepared to rock his hips forward. His broad physique kept you spread apart, molten heat churning within your belly.

Daemon finally snapped his hips forward, cock sheathing itself inside of you with little resistance. You gasped, the intrusion somewhat painful and discomforting at first, but he made sure to distract you, pressing hot kisses along your neck. He wasn’t gentle, leaving behind evidence of his affections in the form of flourishing marks.

His cock bullied its way into your cunt, stretching you in new ways, a different sensation from his fingers or yours. Daemon grunted, a huff escaping him as he allowed you a moment to adjust, grow used to the feeling.

Your countenance blossomed with pleasure, gaze a touch smoldering as you found Daemon’s visage. Those violet hues continued to devour you, a visual delight to the Rogue Prince as he fucked you. It wasn’t as rough as he typically was, opting to spare you from the brunt of his usual debauchery.

He found a rhythm, each movement succinct and sharp, hips driving forward as his cock buried itself within you with each thrust. You moaned, feeling the occasional dull ache of pain as you surrendered your virtue to Daemon, nails digging haplessly into the muscle of his shoulders.

Part of you forgot about decency and honor, trampling it into the dirt as Daemon speared you with his length. Friction grew between the both of you, flesh against flesh, perspiration building along your brow. Heat openly oozed between you, cunt slick with arousal.

The angry lines of your eager nails raked over Daemon’s shoulders, the remnants of your sin. He seemed to be savoring your roughness, throat reverberating with a myriad of grunts and softer, subtle groans.

“Turn over.” Daemon huffed, able to detect a flicker of confusion within your gaze. Admittedly, seeing your pretty face contort into one of bliss as he fucked you was rather enticing, but he was chasing after his release.

Silent, you did as he asked, turning over onto your stomach. Something about the newfound position made you shiver with anticipation, and you gasped as Daemon grabbed your hips. He lifted half of you from the furs, hips pressing into the swell of your backside.

He guided his cock back to your slit, thrusting inside of you as he assumed a quick, needy pace. Daemon’s palms squeezed at your hips, layering over the already-formed bruises from earlier endeavors. He split you asunder; a clash of lewd noises filled the room, accompanied by your intermingled sighs of passion.

You moaned, hands scraping across the direwolf hide beneath you, gripping at the furs as Daemon plunged himself into you. His motions were repetitive, intensifying in their erratic pace as he grunted. You were perfect — the noises that emerged from you only served to encourage him, unbeknownst to you.

Liquid heat oozed between your thighs, arousal spilling onto Daemon’s cock. You were teetering along the brink of a blissful oblivion, feeling your pleasure mount. Daemon’s hand slithered between your legs, thumb rolling over your clit to give you some stimulation.

It was as if the dam had shattered, consumed by the squall of lust as you whimpered. A myriad of wanton sounds escaped you, followed by a rush of warmth that surged to your cunt. Daemon growled, feeling your slit tighten around him, your release an incredible one.

Daemon followed suit, painting your insides with his milt — a dangerous game, but one that he enjoyed playing. He removed himself halfway through, coating your thighs and cunt in ropes of his seed, enough for you to feel the heat of it.

He huffed, noticing the faint trembling of your thighs, rattling like leaves as you attempted to recuperate. You had little time for composure, knowing that you needed to return to the Tower of the Hand before your Lord husband emerged from his council meeting.

The Prince did not adopt your swiftness, watching with a tempestuous stare as you retrieved your clothing, flesh sparkling with perspiration. You did not want to leave, but you feared discovery — you feared what would happen if Otto were to find out about such nocturnal proclivities.

“Going somewhere?” Daemon questioned, knowing fully well what the answer would be. He happened to redress himself in his smallclothes, observing you with the ghost of a smirk.

“I must return to the Tower of the Hand,” You mumbled, slick between your legs. The combination of Daemon’s spent and your arousal proved to be sticky and uncomfortable, but you would endure the walk and clean yourself up as soon as you could. “I cannot be seen.”

Daemon scoffed, dismissive of your concerns, though he allowed you the courtesy of dressing and preparing to depart. “Still worried for your husband,” He mused, stepping forward to caress your cheek. “How sweet.” It was cajoling, but you cared little.

“Daemon,” You began, but he stopped you with a kiss, eyes twinkling with a semblance of mirth. He held your face between his calloused palms, thumbs gingerly gliding along your cheekbones. “I do not … I do not know when I can see you again.”

A bemused hum escaped him as he cocked his head to one side, feeling your palm press flat atop his muscled chest. “Already thinking of the next time, my Lady?” He purred, pressing a kiss against your jaw. “Perhaps, when next we meet, it will be at the Dragonpit.”

It was far away from prying eyes — what better place to let feelings run hot than the seat of dragonkind at King’s Landing? Even then, Daemon knew that any future trysts would be difficult to achieve, if they were to continue.

You kissed him — a sweet gesture, one that was chaste and ladylike. Daemon could not allow something so brief, seizing your chin to kiss you again. Your head was spinning with so many things, to the point of feeling so very overwhelmed.

“I have to go.” You whispered, squeezing Daemon’s forearm as you passed. Your state of dress was somewhat uncouth, but you had no time. You made sure to keep quiet as you slipped into the gap between doors, stealing another look back at the Rogue Prince.

Violet hues remained indiscernible, though his expression was telling — the very same incendiary look he’d given you at the Tournament. “Until next we meet, Lady Hightower.”

@ copyright — all works belong to swordgrace, please do not copy or translate this work onto any other platforms or accounts.

[odoraful]

𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄.ᐟ (𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐢 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐞𝐭)

zayne is known for enjoying desserts, but there’s a sweet he hasn’t tried yet that he’s been craving.

⟡ content: zayne x gn!reader; early stage of the established relationship; first kiss; very sweet (both literally and figuratively); reader being flustered and zayne being bold; you basically live in zayne's mind 24/7; sfw; 1.6k

⟡ a/n: i was listening to day 6's song chocolate and inspiration struck me (>\\<) like "i often imagine when i kiss you, i'm curious about how it would feel... i can't control my heart, i think there's another me inside me" WAAH i thought it was fitting for zayne!

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It wasn’t typical of Zayne to be indulgent. Everything was done with careful moderation and consideration, from purchasing clothing to committing to exercise. However, when it came to desserts, all the rules he set up were scrubbed from his memory. No one suspected that the cardiac surgeon had such a strong sweet tooth. That was until his co-workers saw him at the bakery near the hospital one day, contemplating seriously about which new flavour of cake to get. To everyone’s surprise, he had ended up buying a slice of each one.

Anything sweet had a way of bypassing his self-control, which, naturally, meant you as well.

Taking a moment to himself in his office between appointments, Zayne reached for the cellophane bag of cookies sitting by his computer. The red string around the bag also held a tag with careful handwriting. It read:

Roses are red, jasmines are white, I made these with love, I hope you’ll take a bite.

Beneath the message was a cutely drawn face of you winking. Even though he had read this about 20 times since you dropped it off to him before you went to work, he still breathed a small laugh and shook his head. He unravelled the string, putting the tag safely in his pocket. The cookies inside were shaped like snowflakes and frosted blue and and white. He admired the design for a moment before taking a bite.

Imagining you preparing this made him smile. You had probably woken up earlier than usual to bake them fresh, putting on your apron with a determined look on your face. Each ingredient would be carefully measured, and as much as you would want eat the raw dough, his voice of caution would pop into your head about the dangers of uncooked eggs and flour. Once they were baking, you would finish by making the icing, dying it blue. He could imagine how you’d dip your finger into the bowl, bringing the mixture to your mouth. The blue would be a contrast against your rosy lips as you licked them to savour the taste.

That image of you stayed in Zayne’s head for longer than he intended.

He finished off a second cookie. It had a satisfying texture, the icing sugary and smooth.

Would your lips taste as sweet as this?

The thought came so naturally that he didn’t think anything unusual of its presence. There would probably still be some icing left on your lips, and he would simply lean in to—

Zayne cleared his throat.

The sound broke the silence of his office and banished the trespassing thought.

Only two weeks into this relationship, and he was fantasising like a high school boy at his work. You always had been a permanent fixture in his thoughts, but now it all felt so real. He no longer thought of you as his partner in hypotheticals. Being able to kiss you, and taste the sweetness on your lips wasn’t a dream anymore. Now, the real concern was the appropriate when and where.

He tied the bag closed, saving the rest to bring home. His break was over, and he had to continue on with work. Though he had finished his dessert long ago, the taste of vanilla icing lingered on his tongue for the rest of the day.

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”Earth to Zayne~ can you hear me?”

Zayne turned to you. Your head was titled to the side, an expectant look on your face.

Though it was a weekend morning, both of you were on the sofa completing the remaining piece of your respective work—him finishing his recommendations for a patient, and you filling out a case report for your recent hunter excursion.

“Yes, I can hear you,” he replied, matter-of-factly.

You narrowed your eyes in playful suspicion. “Hm, and what about the past two times I called you?”

Zayne adjusted his glasses. “I must have been focused on my report.”

His reason would have been convincing enough, if not for your keen senses. Despite his unchanging expression, you weren’t mistaken seeing the tips of his ears turn red.

You sorted your documents back into the folder, and placed it to the side.

“You stopped typing on your laptop and sort of stared into your screen for a minute. It was very un-Zayne like I must say,” you remarked as a half-joke.

Seeing just how observant you were towards him filled him with inexplicable pride.

“Is everything okay?” you asked, tone softening.

He paused for a moment, considering his next words. Closing the window to his document and shutting his laptop, he gave his full attention to you.

“Actually, something has been on my mind.”

With a concerned frown, you crossed your legs together, sitting in a more comfortable position to listen to him. Though, you could have never predicted what your boyfriend would say next.

”I was thinking about moving our relationship to the next stage.”

Heat rushed to your cheeks. Stuttered sounds came out of your mouth. When you realised you could form no words, you covered your face with your hands. What could he possibly mean by that!? Suddenly, you felt quite conscious about where you were seated. If Zayne reached out to his left, he could easily wrap his arm around your waist. And, you knew the purple loungewear you had on wasn’t the most alluring clothing you had.

“The next stage?” you repeated in a much higher pitch than you intended.

He nodded, giving no apparent indication that he noticed the fluster you were in. He seemed too calm. Perhaps you were drawing the wrong conclusion too quickly.

“If it’s alright with you, I”—Zayne stopped his sentence short. “Could you… close your eyes for me?”

You blinked at him.

“Ohh,” you sounded with understanding, “is this some kind of surprise? Are you giving me a present?”

He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “One might call it that.”

Even though his reply to your question was quite ambiguous, you happily closed your eyes. You heard a small sound to the side, guessing that he had placed something on the table. Of course, it was natural for couples to give gifts that signified the seriousness of the relationship. Maybe he bought some jewellery or a precious keepsake, you innocently pondered.

Zayne took a last look at your awaiting face. Eyes closed, lips glossy from the balm you just applied.

The sofa shifted. The weight of his body dipped the cushion beneath you. His close presence made your senses prickle. The jasmine and mint scent of his cologne now enveloped you.

When is he going to let me open my eyes?

“Zayne.”

You breathed out his name before you felt warmth against your lips.

Your eyes shot open.

Zayne had taken off his glasses (which you now realised was what that previous sound had been) and he was kissing you. Kissing you for the very first time.

Your brain and body were at odds with each other.

Your muscles froze, but you also didn’t want to pull away. Not when he initiated something you had spent so long daydreaming about, but never had the courage to do. Noticing this, Zayne raised his hand to your face. His thumb gently caressed your cheek. A silent signal that communicated a message of reassurance. It’s alright, you can relax, you seemed to hear his smooth voice in your head. Tension melted away. In exchange, your heartrate picked up. Closing your eyes once again, you let the sensation wash over you.

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Time seemed to stand still and move too fast all at once.

Zayne slid his hand down to rest at the base of your neck. Your skin felt hot against his cool fingertips.

Admittedly, he was out of practice, and the worry of doing this wrong flashed in his mind. But, when you eased into his touch, lips parting to invite more of him in, everything fell into place.

Vanilla frosting… I was right, he thought.

You were sweeter than any dessert he had tried in his life. One taste would not be enough after this. You had become a dangerous craving to him now.

Zayne withdrew, staying close to your face. Your eyes fluttered open, blinking slowly as if waking from a stupor. You were greeted with his green and amber gaze, his clear satisfaction illuminated by the morning sun pouring through the curtains behind you. Before you was a version of him you had never seen.

“Y-you’re too bold, Zayne,” you murmured.

The breath you had held during the kiss caught up to you. Your exhales lightly brushed against his skin as he stared at your lips—flushed like the colour of raspberry sorbet. He scanned every part of your expression, desperately needing to memorise your face in this moment. Everything about you was utterly perfect.

“I’m sorry for catching you off guard.”

You shook your head, the bangs of his hair brushing against your forehead. Only Zayne could blindside you with such a storybook kiss, and then apologise for it.

“You occupy my thoughts all the time,” he continued, a rasp in his voice as he whispered. “It’s unfathomable and quite distracting.”

You chuckled, the sound melodious to his ears. “I didn’t know a chief surgeon could be so easily distracted.”

Zayne smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling with mirth.

“When the surgeon has someone he likes a lot,” he closed the distance, leaning his forehead against yours, “he often wonders how sweet they would taste.”

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[jlheon]

𝓣𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐆𝐎 ୨୧ 𝐋𝐇𝐒

(𝓹airing) ── lhs x fmr ꣑୧ 𝓮xes to lovers ? ; idol au, angst, & fluff (𝔀ordcount) one thousand 𝓹eng's note. abrupt ending & not proofread oops 𝓫ookshelf

𝓼ynopsis. the idol life was what tore you and heeseung a part, but now you reside under the same label

lee heeseung is everywhere you go.

both of you are idols under companies under hybe. it’s not a rare occurrence to see your ex-boyfriend walking down the same halls, music shows award shows, flights, and every place imaginable.

it’s not unbeatable of course.

you are used to it, while it seems lee heeseung has erased you out of his memory.

acting normal, cordial, when you bump each each other in the elevator.

it’s like you never existed, like you never were a chapter in his life, but it’s not like you can do anything about it now.

THAT’S JUST THE WAY THINGS GO.

you dated heeseung for most of your teenage years.

as corny as it was, you thought he was the one and spend your whole lives together.

that you would end up marrying your first boyfriend.

you both shared the same dream, to become an idol. thus leading to the two of you auditioning for the same companies and picking one since you both got in.

heeseung and you practiced together in secret.

though he got ahead first, from nearly making it into txt and being picked for iland, heeseung was ready to debut.

on the other hand, you still had to wait a couple of years before hybe would consider debuting a girl group.

so you both agreed to break up in the midst of heeseung leaving to film the survival show.

it hurt, it did, but you spent all the remaining weeks together. a sort of final goodbye dragged out as the both of you didn’t want to let go of your relationship just yet.

it was a weird limbo stage.

the handful of friends who knew of your relationship were informed you two had parted ways while you two stayed glued to the hip in secret.

the morning of your last day with heeseung, you cried in his bathroom while he was still asleep.

you tried not to wake him and let him see you in such a state but he heard you. sliding down on his floor to take you into his arms as you cried.

neither of you talked during your last day together. some whispers of one-word replies every couple of hours but most of the time was solely about being close to the other. basking in each other's touch and presence for one final time.

you knew everything would be different after this survival show.

lee heeseung had everything, he was perfect, he was debut-ready. there was not a single doubt that he wouldn’t win the show and become a beloved idol.

even if there was a sliver of a chance he’d lose, his public debut even as a trainee would garner a fanbase waiting for his debut at another time.

when heeseung inevitably placed fifth overall you were watching in your room. a bittersweet feeling washing over you when you remember this means that it was the official end of you and heeseung. your chapter in his life coming to a close.

the last time heeseung contacts you was two days after the finale of iland aired.

a simple, text wishing you debut soon, that he is going to cut contact due to his dating ban, and needing to focus on his career.

you want to hate heeseung.

to yell at him over the phone and scream in his face about how he can’t just leave you behind like that. say that he can’t just forget about you after everything you’ve been through together.

but the other part of you wants to hope. to beg for him back. whether it meant in the future when you hopefully make your debut and he’s in the clear to date or secretly dating now. 

alas, you congratulate him and say only time will tell.

THERE’S SO MUCH LEFT TO SAY, I GUESS I’M JUST THE BIGGER GUY.

now three years past you’ve debuted and are thriving as one of hybe’s newest girl groups.

gaining in popularity with the latest release of your group's first full-length studio album.

which comes with the hectic schedules of filming music shows, variety shows, collaborations tiktoks, and more.

unfortunately or fortunately, enhypen just so happened to have a comeback at the same time. even promoting at the same music show on the same day. 

when your manager told you that you were set to make a video with an enhypen member you felt sick. there was a one in seven chance it would be heeseung.

though you had no say whether or not you did it.

nobody knew of you and heeseung’s past and it was planned to stay that way.

as you walked up to the shooting spot the air in your lungs slowly disappeared. nearly choking when you saw heeseung standing there watching your group's dance as he went over it in his head.

“hey,” heeseung whispered shyly when you quietly stood next to him.

you offer him a bow, as he was now your senior, not the boy you spent years loving.

it’s too quiet when you finish filming the tiktok challenge. rewatching it with heeseung after taking one final shot and bowing goodbye.

though after you notice the camera for both of your groups' behinds stop rolling and your manager doesn’t whisk you away just yet.

the amount of staff slowly disappears and you are about to follow after when you feel a grip on your wrist.

tugging you back towards himself, heeseung wraps his arms around your waist and holds you close.

“heeseung?” you question, words coming out airy.

“____,” he whispers, nuzzling his head into your hair, “i missed you.”

“you’re going to get us in trouble,” you mutter, though truthfully you just want to melt into his embrace.

“it’s okay,” heeseung’s grip loosens, only to spin you around in his hold. he looks down at your confused face, “i asked for some privacy with you.”

“why?” you whisper, his mere touch after years of yearning making goosebumps arise on your skin.

“i miss you a lot,” his arm rests around your waist. the other cradles your head and pushes it to rest on his chest, “please, i’m finally able to try us again.”

“i’m still on dating ban,” you frown, finally surrendering and hugging your ex-boyfriend back.

“i talked to your manager,” heeseung holds you tightly, “i took care of everything. please give me a chance again.”

it might be three years later, but for you, lee heeseung can wait thousands of years.

AND I DON’T MIND THAT THAT’S THE WAY THINGS GO.