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ikeucity · 26 days ago

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𝗕𝗥𝗢𝗨𝗚𝗛𝗧 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗛𝗘𝗔𝗧 𝗕𝗔𝗖𝗞. - 𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗣𝗧𝗘𝗥 𝗧𝗪𝗢

pairing. omegaverse!au ot7 x reader wordcount. 16k

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+

with your heat right around the corner, exhaustion settles in as you struggle against the magnetic pull they have on you. thoughts start to creep in, making you question just how deep this connection goes, what it might mean to give in. but as tension builds, one question lingers… who loses control first when the plan doesn’t go as expected?

co-author: @jaeyunsmochi 👹

you woke up to the clattering and soft voices drifting from the living room. blinking groggily, you checked your phone— 10:34 p.m. the boys should have been back by now, wrapping up their schedules, but for them to still be awake and causing noise at this hour? you sighed, rustling around in your sheets before stretching lazily. your muscles protested, still tired, but you swung your legs over the side of the bed anyway. with a groan, you dragged yourself into the bathroom, washing your face and brushing your teeth, already bracing yourself for the mess they’d probably left behind. you knew the drill by now—after all, they had a tendency to turn the place upside down whenever they got together, and it was always you left to clean it up.

sighing again as you finished up, still clad in your tank top and shorts, you figured they were turning in for the night soon, but you might as well make sure there wasn’t anything too wild waiting for you in the morning. best to get it over with now, you thought, padding quietly down the hall, lost in your own thoughts. you sighed as you walked into the living room, feeling the weight of everything that had been happening lately. your pre-heat had been hitting you hard, despite all the distractions the boys had been trying to throw your way. two days until you’d leave. just two more days to hold it together. they had been giving you more and more chores, hoping to keep your mind busy, but it wasn’t working. every night, you found yourself alone, seeking release to take the edge off, but your omega instincts were getting harder to ignore with every passing hour. alpha... mate... the words echoed in your head relentlessly, a chant that wouldn’t stop, a need that kept clawing at you. even the slightest brush of their skin sent you reeling, head spinning from the unintentional touches.

you’d called yuki earlier, your last hope for some kind of relief, but all he could offer was, "there’s a slight delay, but it should arrive soon." your replacement suppressor necklace wasn’t coming in time, and that left you even more vulnerable. great. now when would "soon" be? you were screwed, and you knew it. two days suddenly felt like an eternity. as you stepped into the living room, the boys were scattered about, each of them in their usual relaxed state, though the atmosphere was light in contrast to the tension coiling tight in your chest. jake was lounging on the couch in his pajamas, looking completely at ease, his carefree grin lighting up the space. jay was in the kitchen, the warm scent of freshly made popcorn drifting through the air. sunghoon and niki were huddled together, rummaging through a pile of board games, snickering at some inside joke. jungwon and heeseung were busy laying out blankets and pillows across the floor, turning the living room into a cozy den, a makeshift campout clearly in the works. “y/n,” jake’s voice perked up when he saw you, his grin widening as he bounded toward you, his energy infectious. he grabbed your hand gently, pulling you closer as if he couldn’t wait to share his next idea. “since you’re leaving soon,” he began, his voice softening slightly as he looked at you, a touch of guilt lacing his words. “let’s make a pillow fort.” "a pillow fort?" you blinked, caught off guard but unable to suppress a small smile at how serious he looked. it was random, completely out of the blue, but jake’s enthusiasm was so genuine, and the idea—childish as it was—seemed oddly comforting. you let out a soft chuckle as he tugged your arm gently, pulling you toward the half-finished mess of blankets and mattresses they’d clearly spent time setting up. jake flopped down onto the nearest mattress, sitting cross-legged, and patted the space beside him eagerly. “yeah, come on! you’ve been working too hard lately. you deserve to have some fun before... you know...” his voice trailed off, his playful expression softening as he looked at you with concern. “we’ll all help out, no chores tonight—just us hanging out.” you hesitated, glancing around the room. jay shot you a grin from where he was, balancing bowls of popcorn. sunghoon was standing there with a fistful of blankets, clearly on board with the idea, though he had no clue how to hang them properly. jungwon and heeseung exchanged glances, amused, but not opposing it either, while niki was still preoccupied with rummaging through the games, his back turned to you. “yeah, y/n,” sunoo chimed in brightly, looking up from where he was folding a blanket. “you’re already in your pajamas, and maybe we can convince niki to let you win a round of uno.” niki scoffed without looking up, rolling his eyes as if the mere suggestion was offensive. “yeah, right. i’m not going easy on anyone.” despite his dramatic eye roll, there was a hint of excitement in his voice, and you could tell he was warming up to the idea. your chest tightened at the sight of all of them, their eagerness making the tension inside you soften just a little. they were trying so hard to distract you, to make things easier, and you couldn’t help but feel a wave of affection for them. you exhaled slowly, forcing a smile. “alright,” you said, giving in, “i guess i could use a break... but, you guys are cleaning this up, right?”

“obviously,” heeseung grinned, patting down the last pillow as if fluffing it just for you. “you don’t have to do a single thing, we got it covered.” you glanced at the chaos that was their pillow fort construction. mattresses were haphazardly arranged against the couches, practically covering the entire floor. sunghoon was still fumbling with blankets, clearly trying to make a roof but struggling miserably, and you had to bite back a laugh. it was way too cramped for a proper fort. “i think we can skip the blankets,” you suggested, raising an eyebrow at sunghoon’s determined but failing attempt to hang them. he glanced back at you, clearly not wanting to give up. “but it’s supposed to be a fort, not just a sleepover.” the others looked around at the blanket chaos and seemed to agree with you. “i think it’s already plenty cozy,” jungwon said, stretching out on one of the mattresses, his shirt lifting just slightly, revealing a sliver of skin that had you looking away quickly before anyone could notice your reaction. internally, you scolded yourself. was this really a good idea? but backing out now would be worse. you glanced over at jay, who was now plating the snacks, his expression focused, almost too focused, like he was doing everything he could to make tonight as comfortable as possible for you. they’d all put in so much effort, and even though you were fighting the internal war that was your pre-heat, you couldn’t help but feel touched by it all. “you’re gonna love it,” jake said, practically bouncing on his heels as he gathered more cushions and pillows, his excitement contagious. “trust me.” you sat down on the mattress next to jake, sinking into the plush cushions, and the others began to gather around you. sunghoon finally abandoned the idea of the blanket roof, sitting down with a resigned sigh. heeseung leaned back against the couch, completely relaxed as he watched everyone get settled in, while niki dropped down with a stack of uno cards, clearly ready to start the night off with a bang. "okay, we’re all set." jay announced, placing bowls of popcorn and snacks on the makeshift table they’d set up. “everyone comfortable?” “as comfortable as i’ll ever be,” you joked, but your smile was genuine this time. for a moment, you let yourself relax, the warmth of the room and the boys’ presence wrapping around you like a blanket. "let’s start with uno," niki declared, shuffling the cards with a devilish grin. "and no, i’m not going easy on anyone. especially you, y/n." "bring it on," you challenged back, laughing despite the pressure building inside you.

"i swear to god, niki," jake growled, his voice low and dangerous as he glared across the circle, dragging yet another card from the pile. niki sat there, smug as ever, grinning like the little shit he was, his stack of draw twos and wilds sitting proudly in front of him. he had already ruined jake's game, and now it was the rest of their turns to suffer. "what?" niki threw his hands up, feigning innocence like he hadn't just unleashed chaos. "i’m just playing the game, hyung..." his voice dripped with mock sincerity, the kind that made you want to punch him and laugh at the same time. you snorted, trying to hold back the laughter bubbling up as jake’s frustration boiled over with each card he pulled. you leaned in and elbowed him, teasing, "easy, boy." jake shot you a look, his eyes narrowing dangerously. "you better watch it, you’re next," he said, half serious, half playfully competitive. "i swear, as soon as it's my turn again, you’re toast." jungwon, lounging like he had all the time in the world, smirked from his nest of pillows. "you might wanna focus on the mountain of cards you’ve got there before making threats." "looks like you’re up again, hyung." sunoo piped up, barely looking up from his hand as he slapped down a reverse card. jungwon's eyes widened, darting to the stack of cards. "hey—" he cut himself off, glaring at the pile as he begrudgingly drew more cards. "i was this close!" he held up his thumb and index finger. "close doesn’t count in uno, man," sunghoon chimed in, lazily tossing down a skip card. he gave a slow, smug grin. "i could play all night." "oh, i bet you could," niki fired back, sharp eyes glinting as he slammed down another wild card, changing the color to red. he pointed at you with an exaggerated flourish. "your move, y/n." you groaned dramatically, eyeing the pathetic six cards in your hand. "of course, of course, target me. why not?" heeseung chuckled from across the circle, lounging back against a pile of blankets, a satisfied smirk on his face. "he's competitive, y/n. don’t take it personally." "oh, but i will," you shot back, grinning despite yourself. jay, sitting beside you, leaned in eye-ing your cards, deciding to sit this game out. "don’t let niki win. he’s been insufferable all night." "i swear," you said, your voice deadpan, "if anyone lays down another draw two, i’m walking out." jake scoffs, eyes gleaming with mischief as he slapped down a wild draw four card. his grin stretched wide. "oh really? how about this, then?" your jaw dropped, eyes wide in disbelief. "jake! what the hell?" your voice rose, filled with mock outrage as you stared at the stack of cards now in your hand. "hey, you said you were coming for me next," jake shrugged, not even trying to hide his amusement. "this is self-defense." "oh, it's personal now," you muttered, pulling the four cards from the pile with exaggerated slowness, glaring at him the entire time. jake just grinned wider, leaning back like he had all the time in the world. sunoo, deeply entertained by the vibe in the room, giggled under his breath. "oooh, things are getting real serious now."

jungwon, still nursing his grudge from earlier, tossed down a reverse card. "let’s see what you got, y/n. make it count." you didn’t need to be told twice. with a grin that promised vengeance, you slapped down a draw two and pointed straight at niki. "take that." niki groaned dramatically, throwing his hands up. "come on! i’ve been playing nice!" "you call this nice?" sunghoon raised an eyebrow, his expression unimpressed. "you’ve been out for blood since we started playing." "it’s a conspiracy, i tell you," niki muttered, drawing his cards with exaggerated misery. the game went on, the laughter getting louder, the insults more colorful. pillows were tossed, blankets became weapons, and accusations flew with every wild card and draw two. jake, by now, was half off his chair, nearly toppling over as sunghoon blocked his turn with a skip card. "you traitor!" jake shouted, pointing an accusing finger at sunghoon, who just laughed and shook his head. "hey, don’t blame me," sunghoon said, grinning. "just playing the game, man." "psh, 'playing the game'," jake mocks, though his grin said otherwise. "you’re conspiring with jungwon, i swear." jungwon just waved him off, smirking. "don’t drag me into this. i’m just trying to survive." at some point, jay strolled in from the kitchen, a fresh bowl of popcorn in his hands. he stood there, watching the chaos unfold like he had just walked into a warzone. "you guys done yet?" he asked, tossing a handful of popcorn into his mouth. heeseung, who had been quiet most of the game, finally laid down his last card with a triumphant smirk. "done? i just won." the entire room fell into a stunned silence. "you what?" you said, blinking at him. heeseung just leaned back, hands behind his head, wearing the smuggest grin you’d ever seen.

for a second, there was silence until pillows were suddenly launched across the circle, blankets went flying, and everyone started yelling all at once. heeseung ducked, dodging pillows left and right then flinging one back, "hey, all part of the strategy!" jungwon wasn’t having it. "strategy, my ass," he muttered, pretending to sift through his remaining cards as if he was searching for evidence. "you’ve been stacking your deck or something." "i’ve been watching him," sunoo said, nodding, "he was playing fair and square." sunghoon shook his head, a grin creeping onto his face. "right. fair and square. just don’t come crying when we all come for your ass next round." niki threw up his hands. "hyung, let’s play again, rematch." heeseung grinned, leaning back with exaggerated confidence. "oh, bring it on. i'll just win again." "i’m definitely winning this round," jake muttered, but even he couldn’t hide the grin pulling at his lips as he tossed one last pillow straight at heeseung, hitting him square in the face making the eldest laugh as the cards were shuffled again. heeseung leaned back, hands behind his head. "don’t worry, y/n. you’ll get 'em next time." you leaned over, looking right into heeseung’s smug expression. "enjoy the victory now, but next game? you’re going down." "that a promise?" heeseung shot back, raising an eyebrow. "oh, you bet your ass it is." you grinned, already planning your revenge. the rest of the group echoed your threat, everyone promising vengeance, plotting strategies, and dramatically swearing alliances and betrayals. and for the rest of the night, every time someone grabbed a handful of popcorn or shifted their cards, they’d shoot heeseung a look, as if they were planning their next move. the game hadn’t started out this intense, but once niki suggested that whoever lost the worst was stuck with cleaning duty, the stakes shot up fast. no one wanted to be the poor soul left behind, picking up popcorn crumbs, sweeping up the sea of pillows, and scrubbing snack spills off the floor. so, naturally, everyone had turned ruthless.

“oh, hell no,” jay shouted, louder than anyone else, pointing around the circle. “i’m not touching a single crumb after this, y’all better bring your a-game, ‘cause i am not losing.” "whoever’s got the biggest hand at the end," niki had grinned, tapping his cards with a wicked gleam in his eye, "better get ready to be the cleanup crew." you all laughed then, but once it sunk in, no one was playing nice. cards were slapped down with extra force, threats flew, and fake alliances were forged and broken all over that circle. every skipped turn, every draw four, had everyone on edge, with you and the boys glaring over your cards like it was a high-stakes poker game. as the game heated up, jay’s voice was impossible to miss. every time he pulled a card, he’d let out an exaggerated groan or shout, making everyone laugh despite their best attempts to focus. "oh, hell no," jake groaned, already adding up the cards in his hand like his life depended on it. "i’m not cleaning this shit up." "better start dusting, jake," sunoo teased, grinning as he leaned back, his hand suspiciously low on cards. "maybe learn how to handle a vacuum." meanwhile, sunghoon was quietly stacking his cards, his face completely neutral, watching everyone like he was in a spy thriller. when someone got a particularly brutal draw, he’d just raise an eyebrow, muttering, “you brought this on yourself.” "this is bullshit," jake muttered, staring at the stack in front of him. “you’re all gonna pay for this next game.” "don’t be mad," heeseung called, looking way too satisfied as he watched the chaos. "someone’s gotta take one for the team, right?" by the time niki laid down his first draw two, jungwon had already sighed, barely even pretending to be invested. with each card he pulled, his resolve seemed to wane, but he kept a determined hold on just enough cards to stay in the game. "jungwon," you teased, nudging him with your elbow as he sat there with a half-hearted look. "you giving up already?" he glanced over, sighing dramatically as he shuffled through his bloated hand. “i’m not giving up. just... strategically surviving.” he gave a lazy shrug, tossing down a number card with no real hope behind it.

sunghoon, ever the cautious observer, raised an eyebrow at jungwon’s pitiful expression. “you call this surviving? you’ve got enough cards to wallpaper the living room,” he smirked. “as long as i’m not last,” jungwon replied with a shrug, looking utterly resigned. he glanced at the mess of pillows and popcorn around him. “no way i’m cleaning all this up.” you took a quick peek at your pile, letting out a quiet sigh of relief. not the worst, but close enough. "guess i won’t be cleaning, but looks like jake’s about to be on mop duty." "nope, the game isn’t over yet." jake muttered, pushing up his sleeves like he was about to start a real fight. and when the final tally was in, everyone glanced at their cards, and all eyes landed on jake. there was a beat of silence before everyone burst out laughing, while jake just sat there, groaning in defeat. "guess you better grab a broom," you teased, patting him on the back. jake groaned again, slapping his stack of cards down with a defeated sigh. "i hate you guys."

the whole game had been absolute chaos, but it was the kind of chaos that made you feel alive. every nerve in your body buzzed with adrenaline. for a while, everything else faded—the oppressive heat, the constant anxiety that gnawed at the back of your mind. it was just you and the boys, and for once, the suffocating rules that always seemed to hang over you like a shadow melted away.

as you glanced around, sunghoon was yelling at niki, accusing him of cheating, while jake dodged an incoming pillow with a grin so wide it nearly split his face. across the room, heeseung was laughing so hard he could barely breathe, clutching his stomach. watching them, you felt something shift inside your chest. it wasn’t just the game or the way they made you forget your worries. it was something deeper. your heart felt full—a kind of fullness you hadn’t felt in a long time, maybe ever.

you had spent so much of your life feeling like an empty vessel, only filled by the commands of others—your father’s demands, his constant expectations. rules and decisions made for you without a single thought to what you wanted. your life had been nothing but obedience, fulfilling his orders, being the perfect daughter, never straying from the path he had carved out for you. but here, with them, it was different. they didn’t see you as someone who existed to perform duties or fit into a mold. they saw you. meeting them had to be one of the best things that had ever happened to you. not because they dragged you into wild games like this, but because, with them, you found something real. these weren’t forced connections or transactional relationships, though that was how it started. they were people who cared, who saw you, not just what you could do for them. you hadn’t realized how much you needed that until now. as jake flopped down next to you, breathless and grinning, you couldn’t help but smile. a real, unguarded smile.

"you alright?" he asked, his voice softer now, like he could sense the change in your mood, glancing at you from the corner of his eye. "yeah," you nodded, feeling a warmth spread through you that wasn’t from the heat. "i think... i’m more than alright." he flashed you that crooked grin, the one that always felt like home, before turning back to his brothers lost in their own worlds. "wouldn’t want you to miss out, you know." he wrapped his arm around your shoulder before gesturing towards the room. "all this? it’s for you anyway." his tone was teasing, but the look in his eyes told you he meant more than just the game. you leaned into him, just a little, and for the first time in forever, you weren’t thinking about the next thing you had to do, the next demand waiting for you. instead, you were here, in this moment, surrounded by people who made you feel like maybe, just maybe, you could find something outside the life that had been laid out for you. something for yourself. that thought nestled into your chest as you watched sunoo tackle jungwon, both of them collapsing in a pile of limbs and laughter. jake’s thumb absentmindedly brushed your shoulder in a way that was grounding, comforting, like an anchor. and for the first time in a long time, you felt that elusive sense of belonging. this was it. this was what you had been missing. it felt like family… that thought wrapped around you like a warm blanket. the laughter, the teasing, the way they all accepted you with no strings attached. it was something you hadn’t even realized you were craving until now. these boys, with all their wild energy, filled a space inside you that had been empty for too long. just as you were sinking deeper into that feeling, a bright flash blinded you, cutting through the moment. you blinked hard, rubbing at your eyes in confusion. "what the hell—?" you muttered, still seeing spots dance in front of you. sunghoon stood a few feet away, holding up a polaroid camera with a smug grin. "gotcha," he said, waving the photo around to dry it. "sunghoon!" you groaned, but despite your protest, a smile tugged at your lips. of course, he’d catch you in a vulnerable moment—that was so like him. always teasing, always finding a way to break through the serious shit with something lighthearted. he sauntered over, still grinning and held the polaroid out to you. your vision was still adjusting, but when the image finally came into focus, it hit you. there you were, jake’s arm slung over your shoulders, your head resting against him, a peaceful smile on your face. you hadn’t even realized how happy you looked. "you’re welcome," sunghoon said, nudging you playfully as he dropped the photo into your lap. your heart swelled as you scan it. it was a snapshot of something you hadn’t felt in ages—genuine happiness. just you, living in the moment.

"thanks," you muttered, as you held the photo in your lap, you looked up to find sunghoon watching you, his usual smirk softened into something else. his gaze was tender, almost hesitant, like he was seeing a part of you he hadn’t seen before. there was something in his eyes that made your heart skip, a quiet kind of warmth, and for a moment, everything around you faded into the background. “stay like that,” he murmured, lifting the camera again. “just you and jake.” you felt jake shift beside you, then his arm tightened around your shoulders, pulling you in just a little closer. you caught him looking at you, his eyes warm and a soft smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, the kind of smile that made you feel like you were the only one in the room. he leaned his head against yours, and his touch felt gentle, grounding, as if he was telling you without words that he was right there with you. “comfy?” he whispered, his voice low, barely loud enough for anyone else to hear. he glanced sideways, his grin widening as he caught the look in your eyes. “very,” you murmured back, feeling a flush of warmth creep up your cheeks. for a second, the world seemed to slow down, just you and him in that quiet bubble. “perfect,” he said softly, giving your shoulder a light squeeze as he pressed his cheek closer to yours, just letting the moment sink in. sunghoon adjusted the angle, his eyes lingering on the two of you with an almost protective fondness. but before he could press the shutter, sunoo popped up from nowhere, his face wide-eyed and eager. "wait, me too!" he exclaimed, practically bouncing into place, flashing a peace sign. sunghoon rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t help smiling as he adjusted the camera. "alright, guess we’ve got a group shot now."

“a group shot?” jay’s voice rang out from across the room, and before you knew it, he was striking an exaggerated pose behind you, puffing his chest out and giving the camera his best “model” face, making you all burst out laughing. right on cue, niki calmly sidled into the frame, controller still in his hand as if he hadn’t left his game and slotted himself in beside sunoo, he shot sunghoon a relaxed nod. heeseung, never one to be left out, wandered over with a relaxed smile and threw up a peace sign, leaning in just enough to claim his spot, his face radiating mock innocence. and jungwon, who had been observing the scene with growing interest, tried to squeeze in from the other side, his face barely visible as he squashed himself between heeseung and jake. his laughter muffled as he struggled to find space. you couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head, “guys, seriously? this was supposed to be a quick photo!” sunghoon just sighed, patiently waiting for everyone to settle before lifting the camera up again, his own grin breaking through as he tried to adjust everyone into the frame. “stop moving, ah—jungwon, we can barely see you.” “can you see me now?” jungwon said, pushing forward with a mischievous grin, barely visible in the sea of faces. "alright, everyone ready?" sunghoon said, barely containing his laughter as he looked through the viewfinder. you could tell he was struggling to keep the camera steady as everyone jostled for space, faces scrunched and shoulders squished together. "hold up, i’m not ready!" jay shouted, striking another absurdly dramatic pose. "jay, you’re ridiculous," you laughed, almost crying from how absurdly packed the frame was getting. “shhh,” niki muttered calmly, still holding his controller like a prop, acting like this entire scene was completely normal.

the camera clicked just as the whole group burst into laughter, caught mid-laugh, mid-shove, mid-chaos. sunghoon checked the developing photo with a grin, shaking his head. “you all look ridiculous.” “that’s the point,” you replied, beaming as you took in their happy, ridiculous faces. sunghoon eyes scan the developing polaroid, his eyes narrowing as he realized he wasn’t in it. he looked up, his face twisting into an exaggerated expression of betrayal. “hey! what about me?” he called out, waving the camera like he’d been wronged by the entire universe. “i’m not even in the photo!” the group turned back, snickering at his complaint. jay, hands stuffed casually in his pockets, shot him a lazy grin. “you’re the one who wanted to play photographer, man.” heeseung grinned, tossing up another peace sign like a model. “come on, just imagine we’re all posing for you, like… forever.” sunghoon groaned, feigning a wounded look as he crossed his arms, tossing you a playful pout. “wow, I see how it is,” he muttered, his eyes sparkling with mock betrayal. sunoo, laughing behind a hand, took in sunghoon’s overdramatic expression. “let’s take another one.” jake suggested, a mischievous smirk on his face as he nudged sunghoon. “hyung, hand me the camera,” niki said, reaching out a hand. “i’ll take the photo.”

sunghoon’s face lit up, and he quickly handed the camera over to niki, who stretched his arm out, adjusting the angle so it included him the angle. sunghoon took the chance to casually squeeze in next to you, bumping shoulders in a way that felt both natural and intentional. the other boys quickly shuffled back, this time forming a protective circle around sunghoon, making sure he’d have his spot. heeseung threw up another peace sign, jay threw in a thumbs-up, and sunoo gave a dramatic wink as everyone crowded in with their best exaggerated poses. jungwon even squeezed in front, leaning back onto jake’s shoulder with a grin, doing his best to hog the frame. “alright, everyone ready?” niki asked, holding up the camera with a small smirk. the group nodded, snickering as they tried not to move. the flash went off, freezing them all in a wild blur of laughter, goofy faces, and tangled arms. sunghoon’s grin was wide, his expression filled with something softer, content. this was it—the memory he’d been waiting for, finally captured, with him right in the heart of it all. the boys crowded together, laughing and nudging each other as they admired the photos, you bit back a frown when you realized, you didn’t want to leave—the thought of being away even just for a few days, to be separated from them, kind of made you feel anxious. like it just didn't feel right. maybe, just maybe, you’d found your place here... with them. but how could you keep it? could you even hold onto it? but you already knew the answer to that. the only way was to stay in control, to protect this fragile bond. it was too precious, too rare to risk. yet as much as you tried to ignore it, the quiet ache of your heat lingered at the back of your mind, a devil on your shoulder whispering, tempting you to let go, to surrender to their warmth, to let them in in ways that felt too dangerous. you gripped the necklace around your neck, fingers fidgeting with the useless pendant, the weight of it grounding but frustrating all the same. you wished it had worked longer, wished it would let you just be with them without the heavy veil of your heat creeping in. if it had, maybe you wouldn’t have to leave soon, wouldn’t have to find hyunjin for help managing it. would things have been different then? it’s unfair. a stupid set of rules, a fragile pendant meant to keep your own body in check, instincts you had to suppress—none of it felt like it should matter here. you wanted to break free of it, to just exist with them, let yourself lean in without second-guessing every move. but the rules had been carved deep, whispering caution even as you clutched the necklace, the pendant’s cool metal pressing into your fingers.

exhaustion hit everyone hard. it made sense—they’d come straight from work, thrown themselves into building that ridiculous excuse for a fort, and spent hours playing games without a single break. now, each of them was sprawled out on the floor, a tangled mess of pillows and blankets, looking utterly wiped. jungwon leaned against the couch, flicking through movie options with a lazy thumb, occasionally nudging sunoo, who was clutching a pillow tightly to his chest, eyelids fluttering with sleep. heeseung and niki were glued to their phones, nudging each other whenever something funny popped up, laughter breaking through their tired murmurs. sunghoon and jay sat side by side, both scrolling through reels, though sunghoon kept fiddling with the polaroid camera, occasionally glancing at the growing stack of photos he’d taken, a satisfied smile slipping across his face. jake lay stretched out on the floor, looking completely content, chatting lazily with jungwon and sunoo, his voice a low, soothing murmur. meanwhile, you stood in the kitchen, gulping down a glass of water like it was the only thing keeping you conscious. exhaustion tugged at your eyelids, daring you to give in, but you knew why you’d held out this long—because you were awake, fully aware, keeping your omega instincts in check. sleep, however, was another story. if you passed out here, surrounded by them, you couldn’t be sure you’d stay in control. especially not with how worn out you felt. when you walked back into the living room, jay nudged sunghoon, gesturing at the open spot on the floor beside him. “make some space, hoon,” he muttered, before glancing up at you. “hey, you can crash here if you want,” he offered, voice soft and sincere. you eyed the empty spot and shook your head, masking the hesitation with a lighthearted smile. “thanks, but I think I’ll just go back to my room,” you said with a light smile, keeping it casual even as exhaustion tugged at your resolve, softening the carefully set boundaries you’d tried so hard to hold. sleeping too close to them? not a chance. “nooo,” jake protested, his voice soft with a hint of a pout, disappointment flickering in his eyes. “you’re supposed to stay with us.” he held your gaze, brows knit, before glancing over at sunoo, a nervous plea in his expression, silently begging for support. you looked around, taking in their hopeful, almost sad expressions, and it made you feel like a complete ass for even considering leaving. after all, they’d set all this up for you. still, the thought of sleeping so close to them was risky, and you weren’t sure it was worth it. sensing your lingering hesitation, sunoo gave a gentle tug, subtly steering you away from the hallway that led to your room. “just this once, please?” he begged, pouting, his voice softening as he added, “we did all this so we could have a cute sleepover. it means nothing if you’re not here.”

your eyes darted between sunoo’s pleading gaze and jake’s hopeful expression, feeling the gentle pull of their insistence chip away at your last bit of resistance. “fine,” you sighed, finally relenting. “but i’m taking the couch.”

the moment the words left your mouth, sunoo clapped his hands together, his eyes lighting up as if you’d just made his day. he grinned wide, sending the other boys a triumphant look and they discreetly exchanged relieved glances, visibly relaxing.

you tried to get cozy, stretching out and pulling a blanket over yourself. the soft cushions enveloped you, and you could already feel your muscles slowly releasing the tension you hadn’t even realized you were holding. from here, you could still see them, hear the familiar hum of their voices, and it comforted you more than you’d admit. staying a little removed felt safe, like you could relax without dropping your guard completely. “sleeping already?” jake’s voice broke through the soft lull, warm with a teasing edge. you heard him shift on the floor, craning his neck to look up at you. “yeah, i need it,” you muttered, your voice already thick with drowsiness. “long day, and you guys wore me out.” sunghoon chuckled, still fiddling with the camera in his hands. “you're welcome,” he quipped just like he had before earlier in the night. he didn't even look up, but the smugness in his tone was clear. you rolled your eyes, snuggling deeper into the blanket as you turned your head away, feeling the weight of the day begin to fade. maybe it was the comfort of being here with them, or maybe it was just pure exhaustion, but you could feel the tension melting away, surrendering to the pull of sleep. “sleep tight,” jungwon called softly from his spot on the floor, his tone a mix of amusement and warmth, as if he knew exactly how close you were to drifting off. “night,” you murmured, the word barely a whisper as your eyes drooped, your mind already slipping into the quiet comfort of sleep. the boys’ gentle conversations blurred into a soft, soothing lullaby, filling the room with a sense of warmth and safety you hadn’t felt in so long. their voices slowly faded into the distance, and you were out. gone. they watched you for a second, just to be sure, exchanging glances before they started moving. jungwon motioned toward the blanket, eyes flicking to your peaceful face, and sunoo quickly tiptoed to heeseung’s room. he came back, holding the blanket out to heeseung like it was some sacred artifact, careful as hell not to wake you.

heeseung leaned in close, whispered a low, “okay,” his eyes flicking over to you, double-checking that you were out cold before he continued, “now, we scent it.” he knew damn well they were way over the line, wrecking every rule, stepping into territory they had no business touching.

but right now, none of that mattered. not with that pull he felt, the way you drew him in like gravity, tearing down every wall, no matter how wrong it was. he pressed the blanket hard against the back of his neck, feeling the heat of his skin sink deep into the fabric. she needs this, he thought, his chest tightening, an ache he couldn’t shake. this wasn’t just scent; this was his way of making sure you felt it, even if you didn’t realize it—felt that you were right where you needed to be.

with them.

the idea of never seeing you again scared the fuck out of him. there was no way he was backing out now. please, let this work, he thought, gripping that hope like a lifeline as he passed the blanket over to sunghoon, finally letting out the breath he hadn’t even noticed he’d been holding. sunghoon took it, looking down at the blanket clutched tightly in his grip. “you sure about this? what if it—” “just shut up and do it,” jay muttered. sunghoon shot him a glare, lips tight in silent protest. we shouldn’t be doing this, he thought, the doubt scraping at him. but he pressed the blanket against his neck anyway.

he wanted you—needed you—in a way he hadn’t realized before. he had known it the moment he’d snapped that photo of you and jake, that pang of something fierce and possessive twisting in his chest. he pressed the fabric harder against his neck, trying to ignore the flutter in his stomach, and passed the blanket to jungwon. jungwon held it, staring for a long second like it held every answer he’d been searching for. we’re really doing this, he thought, feeling a jolt of nervous excitement. his hyungs were watching him, eyes filled with some quiet, shared worry. jay leaned in, asked, “you good, or wanna back out?” jungwon swallowed, the question hovering in his mind for a split second. it’d be so damn easy to stop, walk away, stick to the rules. but when he looked at you, he knew there was no way. he shook his head, firm, “no.” taking a deep breath, he pushed down the nerves curling in his stomach, rubbing the blanket against his skin, his eyes closing as the weight of what they were doing sank in. yeah, they were breaking every rule, but he knew you were worth every bit of it. passing the blanket to sunoo, his heart pounded, but he felt more sure now than he’d ever felt. sunoo took it with a calm, almost serene expression, but there was a glint in his eyes, something intense flickering. without a second’s hesitation, he pressed it to his neck, rubbing slow, deliberate. she makes me feel safe, he thought, warmth filling him as he glanced over at you. it’s my turn now. you’d always broken through his walls, made him feel real, like he didn’t have to hide anything.

he nuzzled the blanket against his cheek, leaving a soft touch, almost like a promise. she deserves to feel protected. he handed the blanket to niki, a quiet smile slipping onto his face, feeling lighter than he had all night. niki hesitated, hands trembling as he took the blanket. he looked at you, worry clenching in his chest. he chewed on his lip, anxiety biting at him. but the thought of you needing him, of you turning to him, held him steady. he sighed, shaky but determined, rubbing his scent in a new spot, wanting you to know he’d be there, that he’d always have your back. doubt still lingered, though. he had wondered if he was doing the right thing, if he felt as strongly as his hyungs seemed to. maybe this will help me figure it out, he thought.

jake’s hand was already out, ready, no hesitation. he took the blanket from niki and rubbed it against his neck, down his chest, marking it, deep and sure, while the others rolled their eyes at him taking his sweet time. but jake stayed focused, letting the fabric sink against his skin. he tilted his head back, remembering the feel of your cheek against his, the warmth still there, seared into him. he cared about you in a way he hadn’t thought possible, more than he’d ever let himself admit. a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. he didn’t think he'd care this much. but he did. he had wanted to be close to you, to be someone you could count on. i want you to feel me.

jake raised a brow, glancing around at the rest of them—everyone's way too damn serious, and with a slow, shit-eating grin creeping up, he reached down, tugging at his waistband, gripping the blanket like he was seconds away from shoving down his pants. he wiggled his brows, waiting for someone to dare him to go through with it.

niki let out a loud snort, the sound echoing through the room, and they all panicked, eyes widening as they whipped around to check if you’d woken up. sunoo’s eyes went wide, hands flying to his mouth, a shit-eating grin spreading under his fingers as he watched heeseung snatch the blanket from jake’s hands, his expression torn between amusement and horror.

slowly, their gazes darted over to you, breaths held, every one of them frozen in place. jungwon clapped a hand over his mouth, but it was no use—he started wheezing, shoulders shaking as he leaned into niki, struggling to keep his laughter quiet. every time someone even breathed a little too loud, sunghoon would shoot them a look, half-serious, half-begging them to keep it together.

“dude,” heeseung whispered harshly, barely keeping a straight face, a slight twitch at the corner of his mouth giving him away. “can you not?”

jay snatched the blanket from heeseung, shooting jake a deadpan glare. “we’re trying to scent her, not kill her with the smell of your sweaty ball sack,” he muttered, shaking his head as he inspected the blanket, giving it a cautious sniff just to make sure jake hadn’t actually gone through with his little stunt.

the moment jay muttered “ball sack,” niki, jungwon, sunoo and even heeseung practically lost it, shoulders shaking as they desperately tried to hold in their wheezing laughter. niki bit down on his fist, eyes crinkling, while jungwon’s face was buried in niki’s shoulder, his whole-body trembling.

jay’s eyes narrowed, clutching the blanket like it was some sacred object, his voice barely a whisper as he glared at jake, “if this thing smells like you, i swear…”

jay being dead serious, only made things worse. niki’s hand slipped from his mouth, his shoulders shaking uncontrollably. all of them wheezing, doubled over, and sunoo had to turn away, his mouth pressed tight, eyes watering as he struggled not to burst out loud, their silent laughter making the whole thing ten times harder to control.

sunghoon glanced over at you, eyes widening when he saw you shift slightly, as if you might wake up. he immediately froze, finger pressed to his lips, frantically shushing everyone, trying to keep his own laugh in check. then he nudged jay in the ribs, mouthing, keep it down.

“what? i’m just trying to help scent it,” jake whispered mid-laughter, wiping the tears from his eyes. his tone was pure innocence, though the grin plastered on his face said the exact opposite. “figured it could use a little… extra.”

jay’s glare only intensified, which sent the group spiraling into yet another round of snickers. still wheezing, jake reached over and gave jay a light slap on the arm. “just scent the damn thing already." jay rolled his eyes, groaning. “ugh, last thing i need is all this crap up my nose.” but he brought the blanket up anyway, took a cautious sniff, and his expression shifted, a little surprised as he processed it. instead of being overwhelming, it was actually kind of mild, pleasant even. “huh, didn’t hate that as much as expected,” he muttered, rubbing it along his neck and then, without thinking, pressing it lightly against his lips like leaving a soft, invisible kiss. “corny,” niki had whispered, snickering as sunoo nudged him, both of them trying—and failing—to stifle their laughter. “just get on with it,” sunghoon muttered, exasperated. jay raised the crumpled blanket in his fist, holding it up threateningly like he was two seconds away from chucking it at sunghoon. “let me finish scenting, i waited for you idiots to finish, didn’t i?” he shot back, though his voice softened as he glanced over at you. the thought of you waking up, catching the scent, feeling that connection—it made it all worth this ridiculous ritual. with one last glance at you, he handed the blanket back, each of them leaving their own mark, like some messed-up bonding moment that they couldn’t deny was actually binding them together. heeseung exhaled through his nose, giving a final nod. “okay, that should be good enough.” he muttered.

“do we just… put it on her?” niki whispered, eyes darting nervously between the blanket and your sleeping form. “no, we should swap the one she’s using so the scent is stronger and right against her skin,” jungwon said, taking the blanket from jay. he tiptoed toward you, trying to keep his footsteps quiet, but as he reached to pull your blanket off, his hands hovered awkwardly in the air, clearly too freaked out to actually touch you. heeseung rolled his eyes, groaning silently as he waved jungwon back. “get back here.” he looked ready to get it done himself, but sunoo shook his head in distress. “hyung, i think i should do it,” sunoo whispered, looking dead serious. “no, me,” niki muttered, stepping forward. but before he could take another step, sunghoon, jay, and jake all whisper-yelled in unison, “not you!” niki blinked, eyes wide before his lips curved into a smirk, clearly amused by their collective distrust. he tried to keep a straight face, but sunoo shot him a warning look. “let me try,” sunghoon whispered, taking the blanket with shaky hands, bunching it up like he was about to do something serious. he moved towards you, but his hands were a disaster, darting forward, then pulling back like he couldn’t decide if he actually had the nerve to do it. he finally reached out to tug the blanket from your feet, but you shifted, and he froze mid-reach. the entire room went dead silent, nobody even daring to breathe. sunghoon stood there like a deer in headlights before slowly stepping back, shrugging at the others, whispering, “at least i touched it.” heeseung, throwing his hands up, finally stepped forward, determined to get it done. but the moment his foot hit something—sunghoon’s damn camera—he let out a quiet hiss, sucking in a breath and giving sunghoon a murderous look, his face saying, why the fuck would you leave that there?

“i can’t do it,” heeseung mouthed, throwing in the towel and retreating in silent defeat. jay, rolling his eyes and muttering under his breath, finally snatched the blanket from him, jaw set in pure determination.

he moved with quiet confidence, taking slow, measured steps, his face dead serious as if he were handling some high-stakes mission. his hands trembled slightly as he reached down, gently pulling the blanket from you, his heart hammering so loud he was sure everyone could hear it. but he didn’t stop. the others stood watching, eyes wide, holding their breath.

somehow, jay pulled it off, managing to slip the scented blanket over you like some protective shield without so much as a twitch from you. as he stepped back, they all let out a collective sigh of relief, each of them settling down in their spots, sneaking glances at you as you turned, face peaceful, your breathing steady. completely clueless.

"hyung, where’s the photo of me?" sunoo piped up, breaking the silence a little as he stretched his legs out in front of him, still hugging his pillow. sunghoon, looking momentarily confused, dug into his pocket and pulled out the polaroid of sunoo, smirking as he handed it over. "here, princess." sunoo snatched it from his hand, holding the photo up to inspect it under the dim light. "why do i look so sleepy?" "because you always look like that," jungwon teased from his spot on the floor, flicking the remote back and forth between channels though the volume was completely muted, never settling on one. "seriously, sunoo, that’s just your face." the group chuckled quietly, the conversation drifted from there, moving from random shit like sunoo’s perpetually sleepy expression to the latest shows they’d been watching and random gossip from work. it was the kind of mindless chatter that felt easy, something to fill the silence without waking you up. jake, lying flat on his back, stared up at the ceiling, occasionally chiming in, but mostly just letting the quiet buzz of their voices lull him into a more relaxed state. every now and then, he’d glance over at you, checking to make sure you were still fast asleep. "should we just put on a random movie?" jungwon finally asked, looking around at the others. "nah, no one's gonna pay attention," jay replied, not even looking up from his phone as he scrolled through reels. "we're all about to crash anyway." "yeah, i’m already half out," heeseung admitted, yawning and stretching out his legs in front of him. "let’s just call it a night. get some sleep." even as sleep began to tug at their weary bodies, their eyes stayed on you, watching the slow, steady rise and fall of your chest, you were the last thing each of them saw as their eyes finally fluttered shut. for now, they could only hope—hope that the night would pass quietly, that the blanket’s scent would be enough to ease you through till morning, to keep you steady, to keep you with them. one by one, they finally gave in, exhaustion overtaking them, and sleep crept in, pulling them under with lingering thoughts of you still warm in their minds.

as you drift into sleep, the soft warmth of the blanket wrapped around you feels like a gentle cocoon, its scent comforting, familiar—a grounding smell that lulls you deeper, safe and protected, even though you can’t quite place where it came from. at first, it’s calming, a quiet reassurance that you’re secure here.

you stirred, body reacting before your mind could catch up, your skin prickling as that heat began to build, the ache in your core waking up, restless. a thin layer of sweat covered your forehead, your legs rubbing together instinctively as your body sought relief. even in sleep, you could feel it—the undeniable pull of an alpha.

their scents wrapped around you until it felt like they’d seeped straight into your bones. each of them had something distinct, but together, they were a filthy mix of everything that made them alphas—all fire and smoke, sweetness and raw hunger, hitting you from every direction, pulling you under.

then things started heating up, literally. you felt hot, you felt like your body was on fire. your body jumped ahead of your brain, heat rolling under your skin, an ache sparking to life low in your belly. a fine line of sweat gathered at your hairline, your legs rubbing together, hips shifting like they had a mind of their own, slick gathering between your thighs, thick and warm, like your body was being prepared to let an alpha in. you’d needed an alpha to take you, claim you, fuck you so hard until the need was satisfied. the images of them came crashing in, faces burned into your mind like it was too much, like you were drowning in it.

the second your scent filled the room, every one of them went on high alert. you might as well have thrown match in gasoline. it was that instant, that consuming. their instincts kicked in, feral, tearing through the haze of sleep and snapping them all into focus. you were in heat—fuck, they could practically taste it, the desperation dripping off you, sweet and raw, like honey.

they sat up like they'd been shot, sleep fading fast—bed hair, dazed eyes still squinting, but the alpha in each of them fully fucking awake, ready, nerves wired tight. their eyes landed on you splayed out on the couch, a blanket barely hanging off one shoulder, your body writhing, a feverish mess. your heat was pure fucking fuel, demanding they give in to that raw, desperate need that felt like it would tear them apart if they didn’t satisfy it.

but jake? he was hit harder, more fucked up by it than the rest. he didn't move from his spot and is still lying on the mattress, one arm flung over his eyes like he could hide from it. your scent was thick, all vanilla and heat. just purely you. searing into him until his mouth went dry, and all he could think about was the taste of your sweet pussy. he’d peek every now and then, unable to resist, seeing you shivering on the couch, the scent of you making his whole-body burn, a quiet whine slipping past his lips before he could stop it. he wanted a taste so badly it ached. heeseung, though—quickly bolted, feet dragging him behind the couch like that’d save him, pressing against the backrest like he’d be safe if he kept it between you two. he towered over you, hands sliding under your armpits to lift you, pulling you up until you were sitting there, soft and pliant, your body weak against his. your head lolled back, landing against the couch’s backrest and heeseung’s gaze was locked on you. his eyes start taking in every fucking inch of you—your flushed cheeks, parted lips, eyes half-lidded but glazed, just staring blankly at him like you couldn’t even see straight.

he braced himself, knuckles white as he gripped the couch, fingers digging in so hard you could hear the faint creak of fabric under his hands. his gaze slid down to the curve of your neck, the way your collarbone glistened with sweat. your hard nipples poking through your top, teasing him, hard as diamonds, daring him, begging him to do something about it.

but his eyes kept coming back to the gland at your throat, pulsing, right there, bare and vulnerable, heat radiating off it. he just wanted to sink his teeth into you. the struggle was written across his face, muscles tensing as he held himself back, eyes locked onto that spot like it was magnetic.

heeseung took a sharp breath, nostrils flaring as he broke eye contact, forcing himself back against the couch, arms stretching out, trying to pull his shit together.

jay, on the other hand, cleared his throat, eyes darting around like he was desperately trying to think of something, anything, to distract himself. his gaze fell to your chest, nipples straining against that thin fabric, and he was out, voice rough as he muttered, “water. yeah. she needs water,” practically stumbling over his own feet as he headed to the kitchen. you could hear the water running, the sound pulling you a little out of the haze, making you sit up, hands pressing against the couch as you tried to orient yourself. but the heat wasn’t letting up, blurring the edges of everything, making it hard to focus. sunoo finally loosened his death grip on the pillow he’d been holding for dear life, hesitating before inching closer. he settled on the armrest beside you, sliding in on your left with this look of nervous determination. you barely even glanced at him, brows knitting together as you tried to piece together what was happening, and with a shaky right hand, he reached out, the back of it grazing your forehead. the touch sparked every nerve like he’d pressed some kind of switch. you felt your body respond, like a door had been opened. your pheromones, now more potent, more concentrated, leaked into every corner until they were all drowning in it. his eyes darkened, suddenly feeling a bit bolder that you weren't pushing him away. the sounds, the voices, the shuffling around you as they all reel—they might as well have been miles away because none of it existed in that moment. he was drinking in every second of it, like he’d been waiting for you to look at him like this, and his touch lingered, making you chase it, leaning in just to keep him close.

“she’s burning up,” he murmured, his fingers trembling as he brushed a few stray strands from your face, taking his time, moving slow, like he wasn’t even sure he should be touching you like this. when he tucked your hair behind your ear, you melt into his hand, sighing, your eyes fluttering shut, letting yourself just sink into the warmth of his fingers.

you felt a spark, that flicker of boldness that urged your tongue to flick over his finger, shy but intentional yet never breaking eye contact, like you were testing him, testing yourself. his teeth sank into his bottom lip, fighting back a groan, eyes locked on you like you were a damn fever dream come to life. the pure, unapologetic want, it made him shudder. he let out a rough sigh, his cock twitching painfully as his hand from your check now moved, fingers threading into your hair, sliding right to the nape of your neck his fingertips pressing just enough to send a tingle down your spine. he started rubbing circles into your scalp, slow and maddeningly gentle, but his eyes were anything but—they were dark, intense, that kind of look that made your pussy even wetter.

with a slow, almost teasing tug, he pulled your head back, his grip firmer, making you gasp and let out this small whimper. “yeah?” he murmured, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, like he knew exactly what he was doing, and fuck, he loved the effect he had.

“oh, you like that, huh?” his fingers tightened just a notch, and your lips trembled, barely managing a soft, shaky “yes—” before jay came crashing in, practically stumbling over his own damn feet as he shoved a glass of water between you.

“here, drink,” he muttered, clearly unaware he’d just bulldozed over whatever the hell was happening between you.

jay crouched down, pressing the glass to your lips, and you latched onto it, gulping desperately. water spilled down your chin, trickling along your neck, but you couldn’t care less—gripping his wrist like it was the only damn thing keeping you upright. you squeezed your eyes shut, drinking like you’d been dying of thirst, not realizing how much you needed it.

when you finally finished, he straightened up, and as your eyes fluttered open, relief and a strange gratitude flooded through you. “thanks,” you managed, voice barely above a whisper, but as you met his eyes, you felt your stomach drop.

jay’s stare was dark as hell, like he was mentally stripping you down and fucking you in his head. his gaze dropped, and you felt your stomach twist as you realized what he was zeroing in on. your nipples, hard and pushing through the thin fabric of your tank top, on full display.

your eyes widened, heat flooding your face. but when you looked back at him, he didn’t even pretend to be subtle—no shame, no hesitation, just raw, unfiltered hunger written all over his face. your heart raced, and you forced yourself to look away, snapping your gaze straight ahead, trying to find some kind of escape from whatever the hell was happening.

but then you saw it—right in front of you, his cock, hard as fuck, straining against his pajamas like it was ready to tear right through. if you inched even a fraction closer, you’d be able to…you licked your lips, the thought sending a pulse of heat through your whole body. your thighs clenched instinctively, and he noticed—could see in his eyes that he saw the effect he had on you, and he was loving every second of it.

his fingers gripped the empty glass so hard you heard the faintest crack holding back from whatever wild, impulsive thought had just blazed through his mind. he let out a tight, shaky exhale through his nose, jaw clenching, and somehow found it in him to pull away, heading back to the kitchen. but even as he walked away, you couldn't fucking relax.

the tension in the room so thick, it was like trying to breathe through cement. the water helped, if only a little, just enough to realize exactly what had gone down—how soaked you were from sunoo’s touch, the way your whole body had reacted, and now, with the fog clearing, you could see them all scattered around. chests heaving, expressions tight and their hard-ons weren’t exactly hiding, either, all tented up under the thin pajamas.

sunghoon was off to your right, back pressed against the edge of the sofa as he sat on the mattress on the floor. he’d chosen to stay down there, clearly putting some distance between you, his gaze unfocused, fixed somewhere off to the side, forcing himself to stay calm. then jake, lying just a foot from your feet, flat on his back, pillow smashed over his face as he clutched it for dear life, clearly trying to keep himself in check—but even that couldn’t hide the raging boner pressing through his pants, practically begging to be noticed.

jungwon groaned, head tipping back, and that sound tore your attention away from jake instantly. there he was, in the middle of the room, leaning back on his palms, legs crossed, looking like he was barely holding himself together.

when he straightened up, his eyes locking onto yours with a stare so sharp and fucking intense, you flinched. your pulse spiking under that gaze, every nerve lit up and on edge. the silence was deafening, so heavy you could practically feel it suffocating you, making it impossible to think past your scorching heat.

alpha, you force yourself to look away, trying to shake off the omega inside you, screaming for relief until your gaze landed on niki and jay sprawled out on the couch, both looking infuriatingly calm, legs spread wide, like they had all the time in the world to watch you crumble.

you managed to look away, but it didn’t help. your gaze landed on niki and jay on the couch, leaning back relaxed, legs spread out—niki with a glass of water pressed to his lips, watching, while jay just sat there, elbow on another couch's armrest, hands clasped over his mouth, rubbing at his jaw in this lazy, drawn-out way.

their stares burned into you, making you squirm in your seat, and that’s when you felt it. you cringed at the sticky sensation between your thighs and there it was—a dark, wet spot spread across your shorts and onto the couch. “shit,” you muttered, barely able to believe the state you were in—it looked like you pissed yourself.

your heart and body were at each other’s throats, a brutal clash of shame and pure, primal need. the embarrassment twisted your gut, the humiliation of them seeing you like this—desperate and fucking leaking. yet, underneath that shame, the hunger burned like wildfire. you needed them—alphas. your whole body was screaming for it, every ounce of reason obliterated by that raw, gnawing desire.

you mumbled incoherently, the words slipping out before you could even process them, every thought battling against that relentless instinct, “no… i—” you choked, barely holding it together. “i’m—fuck.” your mind couldn’t string a damn thought together; it was all slipping, your face betraying the struggle, the war between want and horror clear as day.

your gaze flicked over each of them, eyes filling with that undeniable hunger, only to fall back into shame, horror twisting through you as you realized how fucked-up this all was. tears burned at the corners of your eyes, blurring your vision as another fierce, agonizing throb pulsed through you, wrenching a raw, desperate cry from deep in your throat.

the need clawing at you so hard you thought it might tear you apart. you tried to cling to the rules, the boundaries you’d fought so hard to keep, forcing yourself to remember why you had to hold back, why you couldn’t give in. your father, everything that would be on the line if you lost control—it should’ve been enough.

but it wasn’t.

you needed them. fuck, you needed them so bad it was painful, each second making it harder to hold onto any control, barely able to breathe. another strangled, broken cry tore out of you felt yourself completely shatter, seeing white spots, your head dropping, nothing but a numbing pain in your head.

your heat had completely taken over, burning you up from the inside, blurring everything around you until nothing else fucking mattered. every single one of them was staring, those gazes pinning you down, making you feel stripped bare, more desperate by the second, like there wasn’t a single barrier left to hold onto.

you squeezed your eyes shut, head falling back against the couch as a shaky, breathless gasp slipped out. the relentless, throbbing ache between your legs drove your hips forward, your back arching as your legs spread wide, exposing just how fucking far gone you were. a desperate, needy whimper escaped your lips, like you were calling them to look, to see the filthy mess you’d made of yourself, practically begging without words, offering everything.

your face said it all—nothing but raw, unfiltered want, pure fucking need written all over you. every tremor, every heavy breath, showed that you’d given in, that you’d let them do whatever the hell they wanted without a second thought.

your toes curled against the mattress, another wave of hot-as-fuck heat slamming through you, ripping a gasp from your throat, your vision going blinding white. a raw, guttural groan tore out of you, the burn eating you alive from the inside out. "fuck, it’s hot," you panted, barely getting the words out.

you looked around at them, eyes flicking between each one, desperate, damn near trembling, but the looks on their faces—like they were about to pass out from fighting it off—told you they knew exactly how much danger they were in, what kind of risks they'd be taking. your gaze finally landed on sunoo, leaning back like he had all the time in the world, elbow propped up on the couch, hand against his cheek, smirking.

"sunoo," you croaked, voice thin and needy, head drooping as that dizzy heat climbed up, making your mind swim in some fucked-up haze. "it hurts," you barely choked out, throat tight like you’d swallowed gravel. you had to scrape together whatever shred of dignity you had left just to raise your eyes back to him, voice barely a whisper, "help."

that one little word shattered jake. he rolled over, face buried in the pillow, muttering a pissed-off, muffled “fuck,” grinding his rock-hard dick into the mattress like that’d actually help anything. but your scent was everywhere, thick, dizzying, making his head spin so bad he couldn’t stand it. finally, he pushed himself up on his elbows, all fight drained out of him, staring at you like he was one second away from losing his goddamn mind.

every drop of blood in his body surged south as his eyes locked on the wet spot between your thighs, his mouth going bone-dry. he swallowed, dragging himself over, his hand trailing up your ankle, and you flinched, letting out a little squeak that might’ve been cute if he wasn’t already so gone.

he kept his head low, like he was trying to play it cool, but his hands were shaking, practically vibrating. fuck, he couldn’t help it—he wanted to bury his face right there, needed it like a junkie looking for a fix.

“jake,” heeseung’s voice cut in, low and warning, coming from right behind you. it took you a second to realize he’d been right behind you this whole time, watching everything, just barely out of your line of sight—he’d seen everything. you couldn’t help but wonder what kind of look he had on his face now.

jake let out a low, irritated grunt, clearly not planning to back down. "but she smells so fucking good," he shuddered, both hands sliding from your ankles up to your thighs, the sensation making your hips roll. feeling a bit bold, you spread your legs for him, desperate for him to touch you where you wanted him to.

seeing how much you'd leaked for them made him groan, "oh, fuck," his voice barely holding steady. his grip dug deeper into your thighs, dragging out a choked gasp, and the moment you whimpered, "jake, please," you thought for sure he'd dive right in.

instead of going where you thought he’d go, jake’s head dropped down, his face pressing right into the soaked spot you’d left on the cushion. he inhaled deeply, like a man starved, groaning as his eyes rolled back, looking completely fucking gone on you.

he didn’t just stop there—he pressed his mouth to the damp spot, licking it up with a filthy, shameless moan, sucking on the fabric like he’d lost all sense of control. “mhm, fuck… oh, fuck… shit, i can taste your pussy,” he muttered, voice muffled against the cushion, “so fucking good.”

the sounds he made—wet, obscene, downright dirty—had a low, desperate moan slipping out of you. you couldn’t stop yourself, your hips rolling up as you matched his moans, feeding off his raw desperation. every rough inhale, every filthy lick sent another shiver through you, soft, breathy whimpers escaping like you were both spiraling down, locked in that hazy, needy loop.

he growled into the cushion, voice dark and hoarse, “fuck, keep moaning like that, just keep doing that for me,” and you couldn’t help it, matching every damn sound he made, his mouth glued to the cushion like he was getting high off it, like he’d fucking die if he stopped.

heat had pooled low in your stomach, every inch of you throbbing, dripping, and jake was clearly aware of every last drop. his head snapped up, his breath hitching, eyes wide, pupils dark and blown with lust. “fuck… your pussy just keeps leaking,” he groaned, voice a raw mess.

“i can smell it—fuck, i can smell all of you,” he whimpered, his tongue slipping out as he panted, his gaze locked on you. “please… lemme touch myself,” he choked out, voice barely holding together. “please, wanna cum just from smelling you, from having your pussy right here.”

his whole body trembled, words coming out in a desperate, messy rush. “i won’t put it in, i swear… fuck, just let me… get off to your perfect fucking pussy,” he’d panted, glassy-eyed, his hips bucking up into nothing. you nod, whispering an “okay,” but heeseung’s voice cut through the haze.

“jake, that’s enough. stop.” his gaze locked on jake, a warning that was impossible to ignore, his tone dripping with authority, like he knows very damn well how things would go past the point of no return if this kept up.

jake snarled, downright furious at being told to stop, the fucking audacity of it clear in his glare as he shot daggers at heeseung.

“are you fucking serious?” he muttered under his breath, cursing every inch of ground heeseung was holding. even as he begrudgingly started to pull back, his whole body was tense, practically vibrating with the effort to hold himself back.

the second you felt him start to pull away, you lunged forward, a desperate, pissed-off “no!” slipping out as you hooked your arms around his neck, panting, “i don’t want him to stop... and it's not enough.”

without waiting for an answer, you tugged him back down, pressing his face hard against your soaked pussy, ignoring heeseung’s command completely, practically begging for it as you held him there.

jake needed no more convincing. with a muffled groan, he buried himself right back in, his mouth finding your clit through the fabric, flicking his tongue over it like he was making up for lost time.

“it’s okay,” you whispered, voice thick with need, and his eyes snapped up, a wicked gleam in them as you murmured, “just… don’t take off my panties.”

his eyes flashed with gratitude, like that was a damn blessing. “fuck yes,” he breathed, voice rough as he muttered a hasty, “thank you,” his hand sliding down, eager, finally wrapping around his cock.

he didn’t even try to hide his relief, his whole-body trembling like he’d been waiting for this forever. you couldn’t see exactly how hard he was from your angle, but the rough, slick sounds of him jerking himself off told you enough.

he let out a sharp, strangled yelp as he pumped himself faster, not holding back. his tongue flicking your clothed clit, hard enough to have your back arching off the couch. his mouth working you like he was hooked on it, and that stopping now would be his own personal hell.

jake groaned, his mouth forming a perfect “o” as he nuzzled deeper, practically huffing your scent like it was his own personal brand of fucking ecstasy. his words spilled out, raw and barely coherent, “i—i can't help it, fuck… your scent is fucking everything, makes me so hard,” his voice desperate as he mumbled, “smells so fucking good, so fucking perfect.”

“don’t stop, it feels so good,” you whimpered, a high, desperate moan escaping as his mouth pressed into you, sucking hard on your soaked shorts, though by now it was probably full of his saliva, your legs shook, head falling back, eyes rolling back in pure need as he devoured you without mercy.

he rocked his tongue against you in slow, teasing kitten licks, making you roll your hips against his mouth, matching his rhythm as he kept pumping himself. each muffled moan from him sent vibrations through you, amplifying the pressure, his eyes glued to yours as he imagined fucking you, the image so vivid that a high-pitched moan ripped out of him, loud and desperate.

god, you were shaking—your body trembling so hard he looked damn near smug. he fucking loved it, loved seeing you wrecked beneath him, his chin slick with spit as he finally pulled back, breathless but grinning like the devil himself.

“you said as long as the panties stayed on, right?” his fingers hooked into the waistband, tugging, like he was dying to pull them down but playing on that technicality.

you were so lost in the sensation, head thrown back, vision blurring with spots, that when you looked up, your gaze locked with heeseung’s. his smoldering stare sent a cold shiver down your spine, dark, intense, and hungry. even from this angle, he was practically swallowing you whole.

“y/n, you’re not fucking thinking straight,” jay’s voice cut through the haze, rough and uncertain, as he shifted forward from the other couch, clearly torn between holding himself back and throwing himself into the mix.

the way you’d lifted your hips, practically offering yourself to jake, had him thinking maybe—just maybe—you’d let him do something he’d been dying to do.

but jay’s words barely even registered, all you heard was the pounding in your head, all you felt was jake, and your eyes stayed locked on heeseung’s, who looked like he was one moan away from snapping.

his chest heaved, lips parted as he watched you with that razor-edge stare, his pupils blown. you could see his adam’s apple bob as he swallowed hard before growling, “you’re breaking the rules, omega.” like he was fighting his own damn instincts. “this shit stops now before it gets any worse.”

you wanted to snap back, but words escaped you, your body still shaking, mind fried by the way jake worshipped you, licking along the edge of your panties, his tongue dragging over the bare skin where your arousal had trailed down, his hot breath making you squeal.

a flicker of a filthy smile tugged at your lips, which only made heeseung’s cock twitch in response. oh, that look on your face was pure, calculated defiance.

but you weren’t backing down—not with jake making you feel so fucking good, not with every nerve in your body lit up, craving them even more. craving more alphas. craving your alphas.

“touch me, alpha. please.” you whisper, pleading, breath hitching as jake’s mouth drove you further, putting every ounce of energy into making sure your pussy was swollen by the time he was done.

the couch creaked under heeseung’s grip, his fingers digging in so hard you half expected it to splinter. he took a sharp breath through his nose, clearly fighting the urge to roll his eyes at the audacity of it all.

you, looking up at him with those needy eyes, fucking begging, was something he’d only ever dared to imagine. and here it was, right in front of him, sounding so much better, so much filthier than anything he’d conjured up in his head.

“it’s not breaking the rules if you don’t fuck me,” you gasped, every word coming out between heavy, desperate breaths, like you didn’t give a damn about the consequences, only the way he was looking at you.

heeseung’s nostrils flared, his gaze snapping to jake, still kneeling on the mattress, nestled between your thighs like he’d found his own personal heaven.

jake dragged his tongue in a slow, filthy stripe from your soaked panties all the way up the back of your thigh, savoring every inch, and then straightened on his knees. his cock hit the edge of the couch as he rose, grinding against it in a needy, helpless motion as his mouth worked its way up to the curve behind your knee, clearly just as gone as you were.

when his tongue reached the sensitive curve behind your knee, he shot heeseung a look—his gaze was pure fire, an unspoken don’t even think about interrupting, and heeseung’s lips twitched, barely holding back his amusement as he caught the silent claim.

heeseung’s gaze narrowed, but he held back, that slight, cocky smirk playing at the corner of his lips as he let jake have his moment. jake had let your legs dangle back over the couch, spread wide, exactly the way it was the first time you offered yourself to him.

heeseung just stepped back, his hands easing off the backrest, sending knowing looks to the other alphas around you as if silently giving them the go-ahead.

and it was sunghoon who moved first. not even bothered to glance at heeseung, his eyes were locked onto you, his focus unshakable. his footsteps padded softly across the room, and your breath hitched as you felt the sofa sink slightly on your right. your eyes snapped open, and there he was, sunghoon, sliding down onto one knee beside you, his gaze intense, like he didn’t give a damn about the other alphas circling you—he was here for you.

the couch creaked as he leaned closer, his slender fingers trailed up the length of your arm, leaving a searing path that made you shiver. by the time he reached the curve of your neck, your lip was caught between your teeth, eyes fluttering shut as a shudder ran through you under his touch.

meanwhile, jake was in his own little world, half-mumbling, half-gasping, “fuck… fuck, i think i’m gonna cum,” he choked out, sounding like he was a breath away from completely losing it. “gonna cum because of you, ‘cause of your fucking pussy… oh god,” his voice shook, his hand working faster, his face a mess of need and sheer desperation.

sunghoon’s head dipped, his nose brushing over your shoulder as he inhaled your scent, a low rumble vibrating from his chest. when his nose caught on your strap, he used it to pull the fabric down, exposing your bare shoulder.

he traced along your collarbone, his lips stopping right above your pulsing gland, and you could feel his restraint thinning. his breath grew hotter against your skin, tickling your neck as his hand came up to cup your cheek, turning your face to him, his eyes flicking from your lips to your eyes, dark and intense.

“sunghoon,” you murmured, your voice barely a whisper, but he was already leaning in, his gaze tracing every inch of your face. his thumb swiped across your lips, his own voice low, intimate, almost possessive.

"can i kiss you?"

god, he smelled amazing—orchid and sensual musk invaded your senses, turning your brain to mush. you were about to answer a 'yes' but the sound barely made it out before he crashed his mouth against yours, all that “patient sunghoon” gone to hell.

his tongue dragged along your bottom lip, groaning into your mouth, hot, sloppy, claiming every inch of you with each flick. saliva dripped down your chin as his tongue tangled with yours, and each breathy, muffled moan was swallowed, his touch setting every inch of you on fire.

the wet, filthy sound of your kiss filled the room, his mouth covering yours like he was starving. you could barely breathe, your whole body responding to him, your pussy clenching at the intensity.

jake saw it, too—the subtle twitch of your soaked panties, and it damn near drove him insane. he looked up, eyes darkening when he saw sunghoon devouring you, and he let out a loud, choked moan against your pussy, the vibration making your hips buck.

jake was a mess, muttering half-intelligible curses, his voice a wrecked jumble of sounds. “fuck… fuck, you're so hot, i wanna—” he gasped out, breath coming in sharp pants, his whole-body twitching like he was barely holding on.

“gonna cum just from your pussy… you’re doing this to me… oh god,” he whined, his voice barely holding it together, all shaky and desperate, as his hand pumped faster, any shred of self-control long gone. he looked up at you, completely fucking wrecked—hair a mess from how many times you’d yanked on it, his pajamas sticking to his skin, nearly translucent from how drenched in sweat he was. he looked like he’d been through hell and was ready to thank you for it, mouth hanging open, gasping like every breath was a battle.

“shit, hoon. keep doing that,” jake muttered, voice shaky as he grazed his teeth lightly into your thigh, like he was trying to mark you, too, before dropping his head, his nose pressing right against your clit, whimpering. rocking into his fist like a puppy in heat.

“she’s getting so fucking wet,” jake huffed, voice garbled as his hips bucked into his hand, the slick sounds growing louder, every garbled “yes, yes” tumbling out as his balls slapped against his palm.

completely transfixed by the way your body responded to sunghoon’s kiss, he let out another desperate groan, practically ripping his pants down to his knees, his cock springing free, hard and slick with precum.

heeseung shifted behind you, his presence wrapping around you like a second skin, and your stomach twisted in anticipation, pulse pounding as he leaned in, slotting himself between the make out session with hoon.

his hot breath against your neck as he ran his tongue along your earlobe. you jerked, a shiver running through you, breaking the kiss with sunghoon as he pulled back slightly, his lips lingering, gaze locked onto yours, completely entranced.

“are we making you feel good?” heeseung’s voice was low, teasing in your ear, like he didn’t already know the answer. his smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth as he glanced over at sunghoon, who hadn’t taken his eyes off you, fingers drifting from your cheek, trailing down between your breasts. the touch made you arch your back, a gasp slipping out as the overstimulation tore through you, and heeseung just chuckled, amused.

but sunghoon didn’t even spare heeseung a glance; he was fully fixated on you, his mouth crashing back against yours, hungrier than ever after watching you melt under his touch. his tongue swirled around yours, fingers teasing your nipple lightly, pulling a moan from you, and the second you made that sound, he pressed his hard cock against your thigh.

the heat and thickness of him was clear through his pajama pants, grinding up against you, his large hands squeezing your tits firmly, letting out a low, almost animalistic growl into your mouth. his restraint was barely hanging on, his hands trembling with the urge to just rip your shirt off and suck your nipples.

you pulled back slightly from sunghoon, a string of saliva connecting your lips, and you swore you heard him grunt, almost in protest. before you could process the heated gaze he was giving you, another hand snaked around to the nape of your neck. fingers threaded through your hair, giving it a firm tug that had you groaning, and when you turned, you found sunoo, a flicker of a smirk playing on his lips.

his eyes were locked onto the way your jaw went slack, body quivering under all the touches, your hazy, hooded gaze meeting his as you gasped, pitch rising with every touch.

“you never answered the question,” sunoo chuckled, letting the confusion settle on your face for a second before he leaned in close, whispering sweetly into your ear, his voice as smooth as honey but laced with wicked intent.

“are we making you feel fucking good?” he purred, his innocent tone only adding to the tension, knowing exactly what he was doing as you moaned, overwhelmed, the sound slipping out in answer to his deceptively sweet question.

you found yourself answering back, breathless and barely holding it together, “mm, y-yes…” the words slipped out as sunoo’s grip on your hair tightened, forcing you to look back down at jake, who was latched onto your clit, sucking like he was a man possessed.

every time he pulled on the fabric, a filthy, wet sound filled the air, and his throat rumbled like he was having the time of his life. he looked wrecked, like he was hanging on by a thread, his eyes glazed, practically short-circuiting down there.

“yeah?” sunoo’s voice was hot and smug in your ear, like he found it downright hilarious that you were losing it. “you really like this?” he sounded like he was enjoying every second of making you admit it, watching you crumble under their touch.

“yeah,” you mewled, suddenly embarrassed, squeezing your eyes shut as your voice wobbled. “making me feel so good, alphas,” you managed, feeling that heat rise to your cheeks.

“we know, baby,” he coaxed, each word smooth as sin. “but why don’t you tell us just how good jake’s making you feel?” his voice held that tone that said he knew exactly what he was doing, pulling those words right out of you.

jake looked up, catching your eyes, clearly loving the attention as he slowly lifted himself from between your legs, ready to hear whatever you were about to say.

and that’s when you got a real look at him—his cock, flushed and leaking, practically dripping with every needy stroke. veins were popping out along his arms, and his throat was rough from all the hoarse moans he’d been making. his cock bobbed with each pump, tip flushed pink, aimed right at you. you could tell by the look on his face that he was in another world, where he was fucking you senseless.

“oh god,” you gasped, barely able to handle it, eyes wide. “jake,” you whimpered, “i—i love it, fuck, you make me and my pussy feel so good.”

every word out of your mouth seemed to push him further over the edge. practically drooling as he choked out a broken, “fuck, yeah, i do,” his voice coming out in a tangled mess of need. his hand pumped harder over his cock, mumbling nonsense. “god, that pussy… i’ll do anything for that pussy, fuck,” he babbled, half-gone, just saying whatever the hell popped into his head.

sunoo’s gaze burned into you, his jaw clenched, and he looked about ready to combust. his cock twitched in his pants for what felt like the hundredth time today, every reaction you made engraving itself into his memory. the way you thrashed and moaned at jake’s words?

yeah, that was doing a number on him, too. overstimulated didn’t even begin to cover it, you were making sounds so high-pitched, so obviously wrecked, that sunoo had to bite back a curse. fucking perfect. he mouthed the word, like he was branding it.

even sunghoon, who had been holding it together, found himself palming his cock through his pants, gaze zeroed in on your face, his breaths coming heavier with every gasp you let out. he leaned down, his tongue darting out to lick a slow, heated line up your neck, and he groaned low, his voice pure gravel. when you squeaked, he didn’t hesitate, crashing his mouth against yours, completely ignoring the concept of subtlety.

he went right for it, fucking his tongue against yours like he was in a race. you tried to pull back for air, whining, but he just followed, not letting you escape for a second. his hand wrapped gently around your throat, keeping you in place with that maddeningly confident grip, tilting your head just so, while sunoo’s fingers slid through your hair, making sure you weren’t going anywhere.

sunoo had to practically glue his fingers to keep from gripping tighter, his hand itching to hear a filthy, breathless moan rip out of you, imagining you falling apart just for him.

his little daydream, though, was cut short by heeseung, who leaned in close, voice a rough whisper in your ear, “this is what you could have,” like he was spelling it out for you with every breath, making damn sure you felt it.

you tried to answer, but sunghoon was having none of it, mouth devouring every word, every sound, like he was staking his own claim right there.

finally fed up, sunoo leaned in, unable to stand on the sidelines a second longer, pressing a hot, sloppy kiss along your jaw, inching up till his tongue flicked over to your ear, letting you know he wasn’t about to stay out of the fun.

heeseung, practically growling in your other ear, sounded like he wanted to make sure you don't forget how good they can make you feel. “just give in to us,” he muttered, and there was no mistaking the intensity, he was dead serious.

“we’ll never do anything you don’t want,” heeseung murmured, his voice dipping into a sweet, seductive torture. you hadn’t even realized your eyes were shut, losing yourself in the mess of sensations they were pushing you into. you could practically see it all—their breaths hot on your skin, every touch leaving a brand, that you were theirs, and each whisper making it harder to remember where you were.

you started shaking, feeling that orgasm building, and jake could fucking sense it. they were relentless, crowding you like they were intent on suffocating you—in the best possible way. you were addicted to the feeling of sunghoon’s mouth on yours, so lost in the kiss that you grew bolder, tugging on his bottom lip, biting it just enough to make him groan. when he poked his tongue out, you didn’t hold back, sucking on it, making him moan huskily. jake? he absolutely lost it. watching you suck on sunghoon’s tongue, hearing you slurping his tongue, he was practically drooling. he poked his own tongue out as if he wanted his turn, looking absolutely wrecked with his throat raw and his knees digging into the mattress, burning from holding his weight.

his dick was throbbing, almost painfully, and he knew his orgasm was going to take him out. he couldn’t hold himself up anymore, doubling over, pressing his face against your panties—now soaked and carrying the scent of his spit—and he rubbed his face against you with a frantic, desperate need, wheezing as his own release finally crashed over him, intense and earth-shattering. his body convulsed, every muscle trembling as he let that euphoric wave hit him.

he let out the loudest, most broken moan, sounding like he was on the edge of tears, dragging it out, his cock slamming against the edge of the couch as he rubbed into it, imagining he was buried deep inside you. his volume had both you and sunghoon pulling away, momentarily stunned by how damn loud he was. thick spurts of cum decorated the mattress in messy splashes, each one making him shudder, his body jerking with every pulse, letting out a string of harsh, broken grunts.

even as he came, he didn’t look away from you. his eyes stayed locked on yours, fixed in that raw, desperate stare, not even when sunghoon had his tongue down your throat. it was like he needed you to see every raw, unrestrained second of him falling apart, needing you to feel just how much he wanted you, every inch of him laid bare.

jake’s face was flushed, his knees throbbing red-hot from the brutal time he’d spent kneeling there, but none of it mattered. he was supposed to be the alpha in control, but right now? he looked utterly wrecked, having just gone through one of the most intense orgasms of his life—all from your scent alone.

under normal circumstances, they’d be all over him with teasing, giving him endless shit for falling apart like that, but this time, they just watched in silent understanding. they knew exactly what it felt like to be at the mercy of the effect you had on them. any one of them in his place would’ve ended up just as ruined, just as desperate.

jake’s body finally gave out, and he collapsed face-down onto the mattress with a heavy thud, utterly spent. his chest heaved as he struggled to catch his breath, a faint sheen of sweat glistening in the low light. sprawled out, limbs loose and useless, he looked completely blissed-out, his cheek pressed against the fabric, eyes half-lidded, lost in the afterglow.

the room was thick with the aftermath, everyone feeling the weight of it, and as jake lay there, still shuddering from the intensity, his soft, broken whimpers were the only sound, muffled against the mattress. he’d given everything, left it all there, and the way he just lay there, barely able to move, was proof enough that he’d been pushed beyond his limit.

but you? your orgasm never hit, and it hurts. literally. breath coming in short gasps as you watched jake sprawled out on the mattress, knocked out cold.

you scanned the room, silence thick and suffocating as three pairs of alpha eyes watched you, expressions unreadable, while sunghoon and sunoo released their hold on you, giving you space to breathe—though it didn’t do much for the blazing ache in your core. the intensity of it only reminded you that, despite everything, your heat was still roaring, and you hadn’t even gotten close to satisfaction.

then it hit you. the sinking realization that you'd let things go too far, completely ignoring the damn rules, caving to your desires. you barely muttered, “i fucked up,” scrambling off the couch, legs weak and trembling as you tried to stand, almost toppling over. “i should’ve stayed away,” you mumbled, mostly to yourself, as if that was going to do anything to calm your need for an alpha.

“y/n!” sunghoon’s voice was sharp, almost making you stumble again, the mere sound of his voice sending another jolt down to where you were still aching, and every nerve in your body betrayed you, urging you to turn back and let them finish what you started.

but you pushed forward, not even daring to look at niki, jay, or jungwon as you rushed past them, cheeks burning from the sheer mess of spit and slick you were covered in. god, you felt like you’d walked out of some x-rated romcom gone way too far.

jungwon’s gaze followed you, noticing the unsteady wobble in your steps. he knew your door well—the weight of that damn thing was intimidating, and he could already picture you struggling to close it behind you. “shit, she’ll be too weak to even shut her door,” he mumbled to himself, striding after you.

truthfully, he’d only planned to help you close it, nothing more. but as he saw you slipping closer and closer to disappearing through that heavy metal door, a flash of dread shot through him. the thought of it locking you away, shutting you out, sent a pang of panic through his chest, and before he could stop himself, he reached out, his arm wrapping around your waist, pulling you back against him, chest pressing flush against your back.

that familiar, cinnamon scent surrounded you, grounding you, only making you realize who it was: jungwon.

you felt his heartbeat pounding against you, fast and strong, as he nuzzled into your neck, inhaling deeply like he was savoring every second. his grip tightened, his breath getting hotter as his hard-on pressed insistently against the back of your thigh.

you heard jungwon start to say something, but the words got caught in his throat, cut short as you were suddenly pulled away from him. before you even had a second to process, heeseung’s hand was firmly on your arm, guiding you to your door. before you knew it, a gentle push sent you stumbling forward.

the coldness of the room felt surreal against your heated skin, and as you blinked in surprise, the metal door behind you slammed shut, the sound echoing.

the silence was thick, deafening, the weight of the locked door settling over you like a shock.

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notiddygothgf · 1 year ago

Text

2/2

★ pairings: choso kamo x f!reader

★ synopsis: Yuuji Itadori truly was the best friend a girl like you could ask for, but he wasn't the only reason you came to visit. (His older brother, the devilishly handsome Choso Kamo, had always been the apple of your eye).

★ c.w.: slow burn, friends to lovers, eventual smut, childhood sweethearts, kinda, mutual pining, choso with a tongue piercing, rough sex, cunnilingus, backshots, unprotected sex, regular people au, two year age gap, PWP.

★ a/n: part two! its all smut lol. anyway, like I said, this one shot is finished (just split btw two chaps bc theres 11k words). but if u comment and persuade me who knows! I can always do another. im a whore for ur validation.

★ w.c.; 5k

best friend's brother ; chapter index

YUUJI COOCHIE <3

| come over tn?

| i got smth i wanna run by u first

YOU

| omw.

You stood on Itadori’s porch, finger poised over the doorbell a month after your eighteenth birthday. You had been anticipating to see your best friend, Itadori. But as the door swings open, what you don’t expect is to come face to face with Itadori’s older brother.

Your heart drops, and your breath catches in your throat as you take in his appearance. It felt for a moment as if time had stood still since you last saw him. He had only grown more handsome during your time apart. His dark hair was done back into two messy buns, deep bags residing beneath his deep eyes.

Choso looked absolutely breathtaking . His fitted black tee clung to his chest and arms, showing off his toned physique, while the baggy black sweats he was sporting gave him an effortlessly cool appearance.

His presence exudes a magnetic charm that takes you back to when you were 17. His half smirk sends a wonton shiver down your spine.

“Hey there,” He says, deep, rich voice sending ripples of familiarity throughout your body.

When his lips pull away from his teeth, forming syllables and words, you couldn’t help but notice a small glint of metal near the tip of his tongue. You realized immediately what had seemed so different about him, and your eyes widened in surprise.

“You pierced your tongue?” You blurt out, unable to hide your shock.

Choso nearly snorts, though his eyes never leave yours. “You’re not surprised to see me?” He teases.

“I am,” You retort quickly, trying to regain your composure. “You’re home for the holidays?”

He nods, gaze still fixed on your red face. “Just came home last night.”

That would explain why I didn’t see you, you thought.

“I’m glad you came, though, I’ve been holding onto your birthday gift for a while now,” He sighed, stepping aside to let you into the house but keeping his arm braced on the doorframe.

You slide under his muscular arm, doing your best to ignore the way your body bristled with electricity when you brushed up against him.

You set your bag on the ground near the door, kicking off your shoes and neatly pushing them aside while Choso locked the door behind you.

“It’s in my room,” he said, passing you.

You followed him nervously up the stairs into his bedroom, heart pounding a little louder with every step. This would be the first time you would find yourself alone in Choso’s room, and you couldn’t help but let your mind wander.

As you enter his bedroom, you drank in your surroundings – a rare sight. The room was a reflection of Choso’s personality; band tees all over the walls, sheets laid flat and clean, laundry sitting in a basket in a neat, folded pile – a subtle hint of organized chaos.

It felt both familiar and new at the same time. The air was thick with anticipation, and memories of your whirlwind summer fling with Choso came flooding back.

You brace your hands on the door. “Is Itadori home?” You ask him, hands tracing the doorframe while Choso rummaged through his drawer. You sat on his bed.

“Nah,” he replied casually.

Furrowing your brows, you tried to make sense of the situation. But told me to come over…

“Is he coming?” You tried again, voice tinged with uncertainty.

Choso rose up from the bedside drawer, extending a small box towards you with a slight grin. “Nope,” he said.

The realization hit you like a freight train. This was a fucking setup, and Itadori was the mastermind behind it all.

He wanted you alone with his brother. He knew about your fling with him.

He didn’t notice when the two of you had disappeared to the pantry for ten minutes.

Though the moment you returned to see him glancing at you with a curious brow raised, you knew he had finally caught on. Even if he didn’t say anything about it.

He knew.

He had set you up.

Your face was on fire. Still, you took the small box from Choso, an awkward smile on your face, and carefully undid the little bow. As you opened it, you revealed its contents – a tee shirt with Choso’s University crest on it, a glace pendant on a fabric necklace, and a box set of your favorite film saga.

Choso had never given you a gift for your birthday before, at least not anything beyond a card. Briefly, you wondered if it was his way of making up for your 18th birthday party, the one he had missed.

“Choso…” You began, a humorous grin on your lips. “Merch?”

He shrugged playfully, his gaze locked onto yours. “In case you miss me,” he replied, tone teasing yet sincere.

With a genuine smile, you leaned over and hugged him. “I love it,” you had told him.

Choso reached into the box for the necklace, gesturing for you to come closer. You leaned in, allowing him to loop the fabric over your head. His fingers brushed against your skin, your neck as he adjusted it.

He froze. You froze.

For a while, the room was quiet. There was an intense stare-off between you two. Choso cleared his throat, seemingly about to break the moment, but you had other plans. Gently, you gripped his chin between your index finger and your thumb, turning his head back to you.

Gently, you tugged his lower lip down. He stuck his tongue out to wet the corner of his lips in return.

Your breath hitched as your gazes locked, and the air in the room shifted. Choso’s dark eyes shifted beneath your gaze, and you found yourself drawn closer to him.

You swallowed. “How bad did it hurt?” You asked, eyes fixed on the sliver of metal you had caught a glimpse of inside of his mouth.

Choso raised a finger towards his mouth, bringing your attention back to his tongue. “This?” He asked. “Hurt like a bitch, not gonna lie, but it healed up real nice.”

Wordlessly, he stuck his tongue out so you could see it up close. You examined it carefully – it really had healed up rather nicely. There was a small, silver ball wedged into the pink muscle. You wondered how it would feel on your lips, your neck, your body .

Choso closed his mouth. “I got it the first weekend after move-in day,” He explained.

“Why?” You inquired, curiosity finally getting the better of you.

He shrugged with a smirk, “Thought it would look hot. What do you think?”

“I think it looks like a pain in the ass,” You retorted. “Don’t any of the girls you kiss complain about that thing?”

“Quite the contrary,” he remarked, licking his lips. “Why’d you ask?”

You tried to ignore the jealousy that bubbled up inside of you, deep inside of you at the thought of him kissing other girls. You had to remind yourself who you were talking to here. You would have been naive to expect loyalty from a college freshman.

“Looks cold,” you commented instead. “I don’t imagine that would feel very good.”

And his eyes, those dark, beautiful cesspools of emotion, dropped down to your lips, lingering for a moment too long before returning to meet your gaze. “You wanna find out?” He asked.

“Piss off,” You scoffed, hitting him playfully on the shoulder. But the blush on your cheeks betrayed the effect his words had on you. “Fuckin’ tease.”

He didn’t move back. No, instead, he leaned in a little closer. “You sure?” He whispered, warm breath grazing the shell of your ear. “I can show you how good it feels, if you want.”

And that’s how you wound up here, with his face buried between your legs. He kissed his way up and down the skin of your thighs. You made quick work of his twin buns, tugging the ties out of his hair.

His lips curled into a knowing smirk. He lifted one of your legs onto his broad shoulder, running his tongue along the length of your inner thigh, pressing a kiss right where your ass met your legs. The metal ball on his tongue felt odd against your skin, but not necessarily unpleasurable.

You had never gone this far with him before. You were turned on beyond comprehension, hungry eyes drinking in the rosey hue that dusted his pale complexion while he sucked on your skin – hard enough for it to hurt, hard enough to leave a mark.

Tenderly, Choso reached for your panties. He appeared to be on the precipice of a decision.

“Can I…” He panted, trailing his thumb over the thin piece of fabric that separated the two of you. “Can I take these off?”

You nodded quickly, lifting your hips up for him while he guided the panties off of your legs.

He licked his lips and parted your legs a second time, fully exposing you to his ravenous gaze.

“You look like heaven,” He breathed out, voice trembling. He took a moment to admire you, smiling at the way you tried to hide your face. “Wanna taste…”

You had never done this before. The one man you had ever dared to hook up with hadn’t bothered. So you swallowed the lump in your throat, watching him get down on all fours and dip his head down between your legs like a man with his head bowed in worship.

Though you were far from holy, in that moment, you felt like you were God.

His tongue was hot and wet against your skin, licking a stripe from bottom to top. The metal ball of his tongue piercing caught on your puffy clit, eliciting a quiet gasp.

“Feel good, baby?” He teased, relishing in the way your thighs tensed around his head. His eyes flitted between you and your pussy – spread open for him like a buffet – pupils blown wide with desire. His pink lips parted around his tongue a second time, and this time you watched him.

Watched him press the metal ball against your clit, rolling over it in slow, steady circles.

You felt like you could die here.

He adjusted his grip on your hips, pulling you down on the bed until you felt his nose pressing in between your folds. He kissed your heat, moaning into you. Then, without so much as a warning, he began to eat you out like a starved man.

“Fuck, Cho–” You cried out for him, reaching down to tangle your fingers into his inky black tresses. You had never felt so good in your life, like he had been waiting for this as long as you had. You were sensitive, far too sensitive to comprehend the way your body felt, the way his tongue piercing felt as it glided over your hot flesh.

He didn’t slow down. He licked, slurped, and kissed your swollen clit, keeping that unforgiving pace up until your hips began to jump against his tongue.

“Shit,” You hissed,

He moaned into you in response, meeting your gaze with an intense fire burning behind his eyes. His tongue massaged you up to what you know would be the hardest orgasm of your life – that damn piece of metal made for one hell of a stimulant. It felt like it was pressing right up into your pressure points, deeper than his tongue was able to reach.

You felt yourself come apart at the seams, reduced to a moaning mess in a matter of minutes, riding his tongue like your life depended on it. He stopped moving for a moment, letting you grip him by the hair and ride his face.

You couldn’t look away.

He looked amazing, fire burning behind his eyes, fingertips biting into the skin of your thighs, brows furrowed with concentration. His eyes never left yours, not even once.

You dropped your head onto the pillow, sitting back and allowing him to resume what he had been doing earlier – that thing with his tongue.

And resume it he did, assuming a more demanding pace this time. It almost made you want to cry – the pace, the ball on his tongue – it was almost too much to bear. It felt so good.

You felt that familiar coil in your abdomen, almost like you were about to cum, then in a moment’s width he had pulled away.

You struggled to regain your surroundings, vision cloudy and hazy with pleasure. You could hear your rampant heartbeat racing in your own ears.

Choso leaned back with a stretch, cracking his neck and licking his lips. The entirebottom half of his face was drenched, dripping with an obscene mixture of your slick and his spit.

He looked gorgeous, even when his face was tinted red.

“Choso…” You breathed, letting a breathless chuckle slip between your parted lips.

He grinned back at you. “Any complaints?”

You didn’t glorify him with a response, gripping him by the fabric of his shirt and tugging him up and over you. You searched for his lips, locking them between yours in a messy, heated kiss. The taste of you lingered on his tongue, tangy and a little sweet.

“Shut up and fuck me, Kamo,” You panted with a grin of your own.

That was all he needed to push you onto your back, diving back in to ravage your lips again. It was all a rushed, passionate haze – he tugged your tee shirt over your head, you shoved your skirt down to your ankles and kicked it off the side of the bed. He leaned back with a stretch to reach for the back of his shirt, tugging it over his head and flinging it to the side.

Your mouth nearly watered for him. He was everything you had dreamed of and so much more. Well defined arms, pecs, abs – a few tattoos littered the broad expanse of his chest. His torso tapered down into a thin, slutty waist. You let your hand slide down his abdomen, eliciting a quiet groan from him as your painted fingernails caught on his toned abs, ghosted over the large tent in his sweats that left nothing to the imagination.

He was big. Bigger than you had anticipated. The last man you were with was about 3 inches (which was probably for the better, because it had been your first time). He felt about three times as big as that. Maybe more.

It didn’t take long for him to flip you onto your stomach, pulling your ass flush against his navel. He reached for a handful of your hair, jerking your head to the side, then uttered against your ear, “G’nna fuck that attitude right out’ta you.”

He left you for a moment while he undid the strings of his sweatpants. You couldn’t watch. You knew if you saw it, you would have doubts.

But you found yourself looking back anyway, right as he had told you. “Wanna reach into that drawer and grab me a condom?”

“Are you um…” You swallowed. “You don’t have any diseases, do you?”

You knew you were clean because you were so disgusted by the man you had hooked up with before Choso that you’d taken yourself to the planned parenthood in town the day after to be tested. Even if you had used a condom.

Choso’s brow quirked up at that. “No, I don’t have any STDs. I get tested twice a year.”

Oh. Okay.

Again, you didn’t want to think about how many women had taken his dick before you.

“Never gone raw before, though,” He mused quietly, hand rubbing mindless circles over the skin of your ass.

“Really?” You asked.

“Is that a surprise?” He retorted, though he didn’t seem very hurt by your comment. “Can’t babytrap me.”

You thought about definitely didn’t think about Choso being a father.

“Is there any way for you to, like…” You hummed, trailing off. Your inexperience had never been more disgustingly apparent. “Pull out?”

“You’re talking like this is your first time,” he laughed breathily.

You paused. His eyes widened.

“Is… this your first time?” He asked again.

“I had sex with this one guy from my class a while ago,” You said after an awkward silence. “He was small and, like, really bad at it.”

Choso seemed humored by your honest admission, though it came at the expense of your own embarrassment. “Why’d you go through with it, then?”

“I only did it to get back at you,” You turned your head back to the pillowcase below you. With a pout, you admitted, “Thought for some reason that by me having sex, I was proving something. I was younger and stupider, okay?”

“So… you’ve only had sex once?” He asked. You didn’t realize this was an interrogation.

You nodded embarrasedly. Somehow this was more humiliating than being spread open for him like you were right now.

“You sure you want this?” He hummed, roaching forward to tuck your hair behind your ear. It was strangely intimate. When you nodded, he sighed. “We’ll go slow, then. I don’t wanna hurt you–”

“Don’t treat me like I’m fragile,” You cut him off, finally turning back to look at him. “I can take it, okay? Just answer the damn question.”

Choso leaned down over you, pinning you into the bed, kissing down your spine. “We can… do backshots,” he murmured against your skin. “Want that?”

“Mhm,” You sighed, easing into his touch.

You had waited far too long for this for something like a condom to get in between the two of you. You wanted to feel him. All of him.

Choso rolled back, slipping his tip between your fold and swiping it through your slick. You watched him, watched the way he bit his lip at the sensation, eyes glued onto the place where you met him .

He pursed his lips, letting spit fall from his lips. You watched it dribble down, landing right onto your twitching hole.

That was so fucking hot .

Then, without a word of warning, he pushed the tip in. You gasped at the sudden intrusion, feeling the burn, the stretch of his girth inside of you. He paused for a moment when the tip was the only thing inside of you, brows drawn together, breaths shallow.

It took everything you had not to cry out in pain. You had been waiting your whole life for this.

But, shit, it hurt. He was big. You felt your body struggle to accommodate him.

Maybe some prep should have been in order…

Oh well, gotta see it through.

As if sensing your internal dilemma, Choso reached down, intertwining his fingers with yours. He placed a soft kiss to the back of your neck.

“You okay?” He asked you.

No . Yes.

“Yeah,” You bit out. “Just… I ‘jus need a minute.”

“Just tell me when,” he pressed another kiss to your hot skin. “You’re doing so good.”

It took you a few more minutes to adjust to him. Every minute, he would slip in a little further, just enough to make your skin hot and flushed. You could feel him throbbing inside of you, throbbing against your spongy walls.

Eventually, you gave him the green light. And, fuck, it was like something inside of him had snapped. He slid the rest of the way in until his hips were flush with your ass. He drew out, slowly, then thrust back in again.

It felt like he was pulling you apart over and over again, snapping his hips against yours in a progressively harder fashion.

Choso whimpered quitedly, pausing his harsh movements to change pace. You clenched around him in response, something that made him double over. “Ah, fuck,” He gasped. “You feel so fuckin’ good.”

He drew back, thrusting into you once more. You felt your whole body jolt forward with a loud moan of your own.

With wild, passionate eyes, Choso pulled out again, leaving just enough room for the tip. Then, he slammed back into you. Again, again, again – he was relishing in the way you cried into the pillow.

“Fuck, fuck,” You chanted, like some sort of sinful prayer. “ Fuck me, Cho– ”

“Might not last long if you keep callin’ my name like that,” He gasped, tangling a large hand into your messy tresses and gripping it tightly.

You drew your brows together, allowing yourself to be lost in the pleasure, the attention he was giving you. What would Itadori think, you wondered, if he walked in on you like this – face down ass up in his big brother’s bed?

“Choso ,” You groaned into the pillow. It felt like he was scratching an itch deep inside of you – not your coochie, but your soul. It felt like you were made for this. “ Choso, Fuck. ”

Itadori slipped into his house with a quiet sigh. He kicked his shoes off, set his bag down on the floor, and then reached for his scarf. It had been one long, hellish day. He felt bad making you wait for him, but he didn’t doubt that you would have made yourself right at home in his bedroom by now. You were probably sprawled out over his bed, passed out or playing with his PS5.

He froze when he heard something come from upstairs. It sounded like furniture being moved around, or something like that. There were voices, too.

With knitted brows, he walked hesitantly towards the stairs. Was it coming from up there?

“Fuck, Choso,” He heard a vaguely familiar – albeit very muffled voice – moan.

It was you. You and another muffled voice.

“Choso, Choso!”

“Right there?”

“Fuck– yes! Don’t stop!”

He quirked a brow. Then, with a sigh and a dejected shake of his head, he hid away in the kitchen.

“Please!” You gasped, you fumbled around behind you in search of his hand. He grabbed it, pinning your arm behind your back and thrusting into your sore pussy from a new angle – one that made you feel dizzy. You didn’t know how long the two of you had been going at it. All you knew was that you never wanted it to end, that your mind was a blissful haze.

Your body slid up against the bedsheets – up and down, up and down, clenched fingers leaving wrinkles in their wake.

“Fuck me harder,” You pled.

And fuck you harder he sure did. His chest rolled against your backside, pinning you into the mattress and holding you right where he wanted you. Then he fucked you a little harder.

You were all but screaming his name at that point. “Choso–”

The head of his cock was bullying into you, beating against that spot deep within you that made your feet fly up, rubbing the back of his thighs as if to tell him ‘ keep going’.You gripped the sheets with unwarranted strength, feeling yourself drip and clench around him – hearing the obscene squelch you made when the two of you met in the middle.

“ Fu-u-uck ,” You cried, voice high and weak.

“Quit suckin’ me in like that,” He chuckled, though it was cut short by a deep, guttural groan as you did it again. “ Shit , you want kids or somethin’?”

There was a knot in your stomach. A vaguely familiar warmth that seemed to only grow hotter by the second.

“ So perfect, so wet ,” Choso commended you, licking the shell of your ear, peppering butterfly kisses to the back of your neck. Your name fell out of his pretty lips between a cacophony of sinful noises.

You felt yourself get lost in him, craning your head around to take another look at him. His angelic face, scrunched up with pleasure, mouth hanging open just slightly, pale face dusted with pink. Inky black hair plastered to his forehead and neck with sweat. The muscles in his chest and torso rippled.

“I’ve wanted you…” You gasped, trying your best to articulate despite the stimulation he was giving you – it was almost too much. “Since I was young – fuck .”

His hips stuttered. He pulled your hair away from your neck, kissing the junction where your jaw met your neck.

He gripped your hair to crane your head back, slowing his thrusts to long, deep strokes that had you trembling.

“The feeling was mutual,” Choso grunted, trying to keep himself together.

You felt your eyes roll almost all the way back into your fucking head, mouth hanging open, drooling shamelessly on his pillow, his sheets.

You were close. So close.

Those deep, lust-filled eyes of him weren’t doing anything to slow the train that was coming. Each thrust, each slide of his cockhead against your g-spot brought you closer and closer to the edge.

“You feel even better than I imagined,” He growled, and you nearly came right then and there.

He moved his hands so that your hips were up in the air for him, bringing his other arm around your neck to pin you there. When he picked up pace this time, you felt yourself drip – like, actually drip – all over him.

I wanna have his kids .

Your moans and pleas matched the pace of his sloppy thrusts. He was getting close, too. You could hear it. No, seriously, noises like that should have been criminal.

The feeling of being filled by him was driving you up the wall – almost as hard as he was currently driving you into the mattress. You never wanted it to end.

But, shit, it was about to.

“Choso,” You whimpered. He didn’t slow down. “Think ‘m g’nna cum.”

“Yeah?” he gritted out, breath fanning over your neck and your cheek. He reached a hand down, releasing your neck to rub slow circles on your puffy clit – a speed that felt foreign compared to the harsh strokes he was giving you, but not entirely unwelcome.

That was all it took to have you hurling towards the edge, ass jumping up and down to meet his thrust in the middle, to take as much of him in as you possibly could.

“Yeah, shit,” He gasped. He was trying to hold on for you, but you were making it realhard. “G’nna cum for me, baby? Lemme fuckin’ hear it.”

You were all but throwing it back on him, mindlessly chasing your release like a bitch in heat. The moment you got the green light, your orgasm snapped. You cried out his name one final time, arching your back all the way into the sheets, spasming wildly around him. The shock tore through you in waves.

Your hips jolted with hypersensitivity while he fucked you through it.

Choso’s hips stuttered. He twitched, like he couldn’t take another minute of this, then he remarked, “That was so fuckin’ hot, holy shit – fuck, wait–”

He slid out of you rapidly, leaving you to gasp at the sudden loss of him. The next thing you know, he was stroking himself to completion. He came with a broken whimper of your name, spurting ropes of warm cum all over your back.

You took a moment to catch your breath. He did the same. A few moments, actually.

The silence that followed was deafening. He groaned, running a shaky hand through his hair. You collapsed into the bed.

He had left the bedside at one point, though only for a moment before he returned with a warm wash rag. He cleaned his love paint off of your spine.

Then, tossing the rag into his hamper, he collapsed next to you.

You chuckled breathlessly, throwing your arms around his neck and kissing him with all of the strength you had left in you (not much). “Shit…”

“Shit,” he agreed, licking his lips. “You were great.”

“You were better,” You said. “I don’t think I’ll be able to walk home tonight, though.”

Choso shrugged. He reached down, pulling the covers over the two of you. “Sleep here, then.”

Sleep here.

You recalled many nights of him walking girls to the door. Choso never let girls stay the night.

He wants me to spend the night with hiim.

You laughed, reveling in the irony of it all. Years and years of pining led you here, to this. “What would Itadori think?”

Choso threw an arm over your waist, pulling you closer to his side. “Fuck what Itadori thinks.”

Your world went black a moment later.

Your eyes fluttered open as you lay in the aftermath of a steamy evening with the man of your dreams. Choso, your best friend’s brother. The one you had fucked.

His lips were pressed into the slightest pout. You watched him snore, taking note of how peaceful he looked while he slept, taking note of the way his tousled black hair fell into his pretty face.

With a contented sigh, you reached for a shirt that lay nearby – his shirt. The one he had taken off yesterday. You slipped out from beneath the covers, padding quietly out of Choso’s bedroom. Your feet were quiet against the wooden steps.

As you entered the living room space, you contemplated sneaking into the kitchen in search of some much-needed sustenance. It had to have been later in the afternoon at that point – you assumed that you and Choso had been sleeping for a few hours, at least. Your stomach grumbled in agreement.

Just as you were about to step into the familiar kitchen, however, you froze. There, sitting at the table, munching on a Kit Kat bar like it was no one’s business, was her best friend.

Itadori.

“Hey…” You said rather awkwardly, heart racing. “You’re… you’re home.”

Itadori quirked a brow, looking you up and down curiously. His eyes noticeably lingered on your neck, right were you had a sneaking suspicion Choso had marked you with his lips and teeth.

“Hey,” He finally said. “You two finally done up there?”

“You heard that. Of course you did,” You sighed, dropping your stiff arms and plopping into the stool next to him at the kitchen island. You faceplanted into the cold surface, groaning, “How much did you hear?”

“Enough to know my brother’s good in bed,” Itadori took another bite. He placed a heart over his chest, feigning an exaggerated cry of, “ Choso– oh, Choso, don’t stop, I’m cu–”

“He told me you weren’t coming home,” You groaned, even louder this time. You were glad that Itadori couldn’t see the nasty shade of red that had painted your features.

“He lied,” Your best friend chuckled, crumpling the wrapper of his Kit Kat bar and tossing it in the trash bin. He stood off, dusting his hands on his pants, reaching for his phone. Then, like nothing had happened, he said, “I’m ordering Chinese. You want?”

You raised your head at that, taking a slow glance at the room around the two of you. “I could go for some beef and broccoli…”

You loved the bond you had with Yuuji. Unbreakable, truly. Sometimes a little toocomfortable. This was, undoubtedly, one of those times.

Itadori dialed a few numbers into his phone. He paused, raising his brow again, “I think you’ve had enough meat tonight, don’t you?”

“Shut the fuck up,” You sighed, though you laughed a bit at his joke.

Images of Choso flashed through your mind. The image of him spitting on the tip before slipping it in. The image of him tangling a fist in your hair, craning your head back to look at him while he pounded you into the mattress.

With a faint smirk of your own, you remarked. “You’re probably right. I should save room for all of the meat I’m gonna be eatin’ tonight after you go to bed.”

“Please shut up,” Itadori sighed, running the palms of his hands over his exasperated face. With a shake of his head, he held the phone up to his ear. “I really don’t want to think about my brother putting his dick in you. Not while dinner is also in the question.”

You shrugged. Your phone buzzed. Turning it over, you read the new message you had received.

CHOSO just now

Whered u go beautiful

Your phone chimed a second time.

CHOSO just now

Steamed dumplings n fried rice plz

You turned the screen over with a grin, telling Itadori. “Your brother wants steamed dumplings and fried rice.”

“I’d say fuck my brother, but tonight’s game night and I don’t want you taking that literally,” Itadori sighed. Still, he unmuted himself, telling the woman on the other side of the phone, “Another order of fried rice and dumplings, too, please.”

Yuuji Itadori really was the best friend a girl like you could ask for.

a/n: hi there my little steamed dumplins <33 lmk what u thought!!! I love reading ur comments and dms. again, this is a one shot, but I would totally drop another part if yall would like -- gotta show papa choso some love. comment and lmk what u think pookiesss

comments + reblogs are greatly appreciated!!

I obviously do not own jjk or anything related to it. please do not reproduce, copy, or translate my works anywhere. dont fk w me im a bruja.

taglist: @missphanosaur18 ,

wanna join the ' choso kamo ' taglist?| bfb; chapter index

#notiddygxthgf ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚#choso kamo #kamo choso #choso #choso jjk #choso x reader #choso kamo x reader #choso kamo x you #choso x you #chousou #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #yuuji itadori #itadori x reader #geto x reader #gojo x reader #choso smut #choso fluff #jjk x reader

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oceantornadoo · 4 months ago

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you: an absolute teeth-aching bone deep want to be loved and to give love. that hollow feeling behind your chest is too familiar and you want it gone. you just want to be in love, to treat someone with gentleness and to be wanted.

your 141 bae who has been in love with you since the moment he met you: ...i'm right here

gn!reader headcanons below the cut:

childhood best friend simon: let's say you knew him before he lost his family. a scrawny-limbed blond, always willing to extend a trip to the park or a cigarette behind school - anything to not go home. you'd visit him when he started part-time as a butcher in high school, wrinkling your nose at the smell of bloody meat but staying anyways, doing your homework at the singular table in the shop. he was there when you moved away from town, for college or a new job or any life-altering decision that he was secondary to, something simon could only hope to grasp. once he leaves for the military, you mourn your relationship and move on. simon is a blur in your mind, a reminder of snow days and sweet tea summers and leaf piles and dandelion picking, on a nostalgic shelf in the untouched corners of your brain. ten years later, you've finally made a name for yourself and truly gotten out; grown roots. but you still have this soul-deep yearning, some unfamiliar-shaped hole in your chest that miraculously fills when you open your door to simon, a grown man who's tired of wanting you from afar. tired of stalking your social media and writing fantasies in his head. tired of picking people to fuck just because they look like you, then going soft halfway through because their voice isn't the right pitch. he's here, and he's ready to do whatever it takes.

best friend gaz: now this is different from a childhood best friend, so keep that in mind. gaz is always this guy-next-door type with a panty-dropping smile and impeccable manners. this notion does him some good, helps him avoid some deep-rooted british military prejudices, but it also turns you away. you check him off as nice and place him in the best friend box. you don't understand how he tracks your every move on a mission, almost always getting caught by johnny or price. you miss how he grips his pint ten times harder when he sees you on the pub floor, dancing with some stranger whose hands are a bit too low. he tells you he gets rejected for being "too nice", but really, he ignores his 27 unread DMs and flirty cafe eye contact in favor of movie nights, prank wars, your shitty reality shows. he's grasping onto straws, can't you see sweetheart? when you're drunk and turn into a cuddler, he can pretend just for a second that you truly mean it. gaz lets your hands wander under his shirt, lets you murmur your darkest fear of never being loved into the quietness of your room, leaving you to sleep on top of your covers with a kiss to the forehead. he doesn't know what's pushed him over: you almost dying on that last mission, you making out with a stranger in a bar, you you you in those pants and that shirt and that's it. he has to say something. has to put it all on the line because gaz can't live like this anymore.

best friend's brother price: it was some one-sided crush, your best friend's brother with his suave teenage ways as compared to your brutal tween phase, acne and braces on the way. it had dissipated quickly, john never the wiser, his presence substituted with trendy band obsessions and first kisses. instead, it happened at your best friend's wedding. you were both in the wedding party, some object of fate throwing you together as your best friend forced you two to dance. you were tipsy on champagne, on the happiness of marriage, that you giddily admitted your fleeting childhood crush and how much john had grown since then. and that was it. john was always going to settle down, always going to have a pretty thing waiting for him back home, he just didn't figure out until right now that it would be you. he tries to hide his affections under friendliness, not wanting to ruin your friendship with his sibling, but john has never been discrete. he's suddenly invading your life with offers of fixing your kitchen sink, painting that one spot you can't reach, moving your couch to fit your latest pinterest board. you're practically family, love - which kills all your hopes for something more, feeling like a familyzone. but john means it differently, means you're predestined to be his, already accepted and loved by his loved ones and how could he not see it before? you refuse to accept his kindness and it absolutely kills him, so he scares off potential dates and any chance of meet-cutes with an arm around your waist and why can't you see him the way he sees you?

friends with benefits johnny: it was just sex, right? you'd been the one to say it, the one to set that boundary with your fellow sergeant. you didn't think johnny was capable of more, mistaking his cheeky smirks and booming laugh for being unserious, when in reality, johnny is as serious as it gets. he tells himself he can fuck you because he'll marry you one day, that cross sitting heavy under his shirts. he doesn't wash his sheets for weeks after that first fuck, too busy inhaling the scent of you cumming around his mouth, his cock. that is, until, you tell him his sheets stink and refuse to fuck him and he pretends you're having an argument as a married couple, all intimate and bored. johnny sees a recruit getting too flirty and pulls you into a supply closet using his best distraction methods. he sways you from joining a month's long solo mission, some stupid excuse about missing your lips too much when really he knows it's a suicide mission. johnny forces you to stay over after a midnight fuck, some bullshit about simon being up at that time and seeing you in the hallway on base. in reality, he treasures cuddling you with his brawny arms, pretending you're his willingly. pretending he's made peace with you, this wild creature, never tamed but understood. he can't force himself to ask for more, too scared to lose the crumbs he's holding onto. johnny tries to hide it with a fiery personality and a thick accent, but inside? he's a complete goner.

#simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley x you #cod 141 #tornadothoughts #ghost call of duty #john soap mactavish #johnny soap mactavish x reader #john mactavish x reader #kyle gaz garrick #gaz x reader #kyle garrick x reader #captain john price #john price x reader #captain price x reader #141 x reader #141 headcanons #fluff

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dapper-nahrwhale · 2 years ago

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I'm at my fuckin limit here

#b.text #im fine now but gawd. can i get a fucking break or not.#cant wait for ttrpg time tomorrow 😭😭😭😭. this will fic me. it will. please.#if i just ignore every single big problem in my life and just think abt the nice things and try to not let the problems overwhelm me #until they do then go back to thinking abt rollercoasters and not the 1000000 problems piling up. then ill be good #most of them i literally can just. do nothing about so. its best to not think abt them.#the others its just. i dont want to so i never will deal with them until the force me to. ao theres than i guess #gawd i just want this year to be good please. i had a mixed bag of a summer so at least let it be that cmon now #i just. would love to ACTAULLY get money instead of just barely get by. id like to ACTUALLY get a job. id like to ACTUALLY move out sometim #id like to do these things please but literally all of that hinges on the fact that none of those things are a viable option rn and #i just have to grit my teeth and hold on for dear fucking life until #well i guess something happens. i dont know.#i dint fucking know

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captain-hawks · 4 months ago

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contravention

soshiro hoshina x f!reader

Hoshina finds himself in a precarious situation when his repeated use of the No. 10 suit sends his body into a rut, one that's only further exacerbated when you let yourself into his office without warning.

wc: 3.2k

c: 18+ only, friends to lovers, rut dynamics, breeding kink, oral sex (f & m!receiving), cum eating, squirting, unprotected p in v, creampies, too many creampies to count, copious amounts of cum, a ridiculous amount of orgasms, pussy drunk!hoshina, required horny suspension of disbelief, author takes great liberties with human biology

a/n: this one goes out to the two requests i received for hoshina + office, in addition to an older request for him in a rut!

SPICY SLEEPOVER — ROUND V

There are three things Soshiro Hoshina promised himself when he was sworn into his position as Vice-Captain of the Third Division—

To give his life to the JAKDF.

To do everything within his power and abilities to ensure the safety and preparedness of each and every officer under his watch.

—and to never let himself get involved with a fellow officer.

…after all, sentimentality is a dangerous weapon to hang oneself with.

The third is the reason he’s currently staring at you with wide, panicked eyes as you step past the threshold of his locked office door, your brows furrowed as you point what appears to be a hairpin in his direction.

“You’ve been holed up in here for days, Soshiro,” you frown, your gaze tracking across the uncharacteristically messy state the room is currently in. Paperwork is left askew across the surface of his desk, a haphazard pile of blankets and pillows stacked on the couch, and an array of takeout food and drink containers is stacked precariously atop the filing cabinet.

Soshiro grips the edge of his desk, teeth grinding as he fights to ignore the surge of possessive, blinding heat that unfurls inside of him at the sound of his given name on your lips.

(It was an exception he was too weak to deny you, not when you’ve become the closest friend he’s ever had in the years since you joined the Defense Force.)

You begin to walk toward him, and his nostrils flare, chest heaving as the familiar, soft scents of your perfume and shampoo invade his senses, amplified like never before.

“S-stop,” he gasps, hunching forward, palms flat against the desk as he inhales sharply.

Your voice has an edge of panic to it as you stride closer. “Soshiro?”

He backs up, putting several more feet of space between the two of you, though the added proximity does little to quell the blazing fire your presence has ignited in his veins.

“I…there’s….,” his throat burns as he tries to talk, “…a side effect from Number 10.”

A rut, to be precise.

Biologically, it makes zero sense. There are no reported cases on file across the JAKDF of similar side effects as a result of kaiju weaponization. And Soshiro’s not even wearing the goddamn suit, he hasn’t been since he collapsed in the middle of the training grounds earlier in the week without warning.

But the medical team at the Third Division has since hypothesized that it’s a particular irregularity resulting from the repeated usage of the No. 10 suit which has simply tricked his body into believing it’s going into an animalistic rut, of sorts.

His cock has been achingly hard nearly round the clock all week, a thick and throbbing presence between his legs no matter how many times he brings himself to completion.

Mortifyingly, after the higher ups insisted on contacting Captain Gen Narumi of the First Division to see if he had any insight, the other man had nearly laughed himself out of his seat as he suggested Soshiro try “fucking it out of his system.”

And this is where your presence has now become a problem.

Deny it as he might, there’s a traitorous golden thread of sentimentality for you that runs deep in Soshiro’s veins, one that has nearly cost the team a mission on several occasions at times when he’s found himself too focused on your individual wellbeing on the battlefield.

He sees the way you look at him.

He feels the way his stupid, reckless heart throbs against his ribcage in your presence.

He knows what this could be—what the two of you could have. If only he was weak enough to bend to the will of his own desires.

But under the influence of the rut currently sinking its ruthless fangs into his better judgment, he’s a weak man.

He’s a weak, hungry, desperate man who wants to claim you as his.

Who wants to breed you, to fill you with his seed, to pump every last drop of cum he has left to give into the tight, slippery warmth of your cunt.

This is why he’s been avoiding you specifically, why he’s teetering on the frantic edge of panic as he feels his body’s visceral, uncontrollable reaction to your presence.

You sigh, expression softening. “I didn’t realize it was this bad.”

He stares at you in confusion and chokes out, “What?”

“Well…Captain Narumi called me to ask how you were doing, which threw me off. He didn’t go into much detail, but I…I got the gist of it.”

“That asshole…” Soshiro groans.

“I think he was trying to be nice, if you can believe that. But I just…I know you like thinking you have to shoulder every burden yourself, and you hate asking for help. And you’ve been ignoring all of my texts. So I’m here now to offer you whatever help you may need.”

Soshiro maneuvers himself behind the side of his desk, if only to hide the stiff erection currently tented at the front of his pants. “This…I don’t…this ain’t somethin’ you can help me with.”

Putting your hands on your hips, you huff. “You look like you’re barely keeping it together. And I…” you scratch the back of your head, looking a bit sheepish, “I may have done some research. On the internet.”

“Research?!”

“I mean, I know the mental gymnastics of applying the concept from animals to kaiju to humans isn’t exactly laying the groundwork for the next peer-reviewed scientific study…”

“Do ya even know what you’re saying?”

You sidestep around the barrier of the desk, and Soshiro backs up again, his shoulder blades hitting the wall, the obvious outline of his cock in his pants the least of his concerns now.

“I’m saying that your body probably isn’t going to revert back to normal until you satisfy the conditions of your rut.”

A subtle shiver runs through him. “I’ve tried,” he grumbles, looking off to the side.

“Oh?” you ask, an odd look crossing your face, one that he can’t quite read—but it makes something inside of him clench all the same.

“By myself, I mean,” he continues. “Many times, actually. S’not changing anything.”

“Because your body wants you to breed someone. Well, probably in the hypothetical sense, like just finishing inside of them…,” you reply, matter-of-factly. Like his cock isn’t threatening to thrash its way past his zipper at the sound of those words on your lips.

He inhales slowly, looking up at the ceiling for a moment before finding your gaze once more. “‘m not goin’ out and findin’ some random—“

“That’s why I’m here.”

“Excuse me?” Soshiro’s not sure he remembers how to breathe.

“Use me, breed me. Whatever it’s going to take to get you out of this room and back into commission.”

He’s going to lose his fucking mind.

“I can’t—“

“I trust you, Soshiro. I trust you more than anyone else. I don’t think you understand how much you mean to me. And I know you refuse to let yourself care about anyone enough to become a liability…but I’m here if you want me. If you’ll have me.”

Everything inside of Soshiro feels like it’s reaching a breaking point, a fever pitch. He takes one step toward you, and then another.

—and it’s almost excruciating, the distance that remains, every cell and fiber in his body helplessly, desperately drawn toward your gravitational pull.

“…also I…the contraceptive part is covered. So I won’t actually get pregnant. You can come inside of me as many times as you need to…”

Another step.

“…or as many times as you want to…”

He’s standing directly in front of you, his muscles tensing painfully as he begins to feel the warmth of your body heat.

“I locked myself in here to stay away from you,” he rasps.

Your face falls a fraction. “Am I that terrible of an option?”

“No.” He sidesteps, and you turn to face him, your backside leaning against his desk. “You were the only option I want.”

You blink, clearly a bit taken aback by the admission. “Then why didn’t you tell me? I feel like I’m not exactly subtle about my feelings…”

“Cause I don’t know if this is goin’ to stop if we do this. I don’t know what kinda side effects there might be afterward.”

“Are you trying to scare me off with the threat of a potential sex sabbatical if your boner doesn’t go down?”

He bites the inside of his lower lip. “I’m tryin’ to warn ya that I don’t know if we can go back to normal after this…it’s more than just sexual…there’s this possessive feeling eatin’ me alive whenever I so much as think about ya.”

You lean more of your weight back into the desk, letting one of your feet slide forward to nudge against Soshiro’s.

“You know just about everyone in the entire Defense Force already thinks we’re dating, right? Captain Narumi started crying laughing when I got into an argument with him over it.”

Soshiro’s self control is dangling by the edge of a frayed, treacherous rope.

“You really wanna do this?”

“I was already yours, Soshiro. Even if you weren’t ready to acknowledge it.”

A ragged exhale leaves him at that, every last piece of his desire falling at his feet and bursting into flames. And when you meet him halfway as his lips come crashing into yours, Soshiro knows there’s no turning back.

Distantly, Soshiro knows that if he were in the right state of mind, this would unfold in a far different manner. He’d settle down into his office chair, tugging you into his lap to kiss you soft and slow and languid.

He’d take his time, familiarizing himself with each dip and curve of your body. Every corner, every plane. Every little sound and reaction. He’d use his lips and his fingers first, until you’re pliant and sated under his touch.

He’d kiss the corner of your mouth and worship the very sight of you, tell you just how fucking terribly in love he is with you.

But you know him better than anyone else, and he you.

So when he gets out an, “I’m sorry,” between frantic, sloppy kisses as his hands fumble for the button of your pants—

When you gasp at the feeling of his fingers grazing your slit and bite down on his lower lip and moan into his open mouth, “Next time.”—

He knows you understand all that he wants to give you to, that this wasn’t how this was supposed to go. That you trust him and want him enough to let him fuck you through his rut like an animal moments after you’ve shared your first kiss.

Despite the unbearable ache of his cock, which only grows worse when you begin to palm him through his pants, Soshiro still manages one thing—one moment of pleasure that he’s fucking dreamed of giving you over and over again.

He has little regret for the way he swipes all of the paperwork off of his desk in one go before he sets you down on top of it, memos and unanswered letters the furthest thing from his mind when he finally has the taste of your cunt on his tongue. With your legs spread wide, he eats you out with reckless abandon, the heel of one hand shoved against his dick as he plunges two fingers of the other in and out of your dripping wet hole. The keening, needy sounds you make only fuel him further, your back arching up off of his desk as he thrusts his tongue into your tight channel, greedily lapping up every last drop of the arousal that’s slipping out of you.

“Oh my god, Soshiro,” you cry out, fingers scrambling for purchase and eventually coming to tangle in the dark violet locks of his hair.

When you come on his tongue, moaning and shaking as you roughly tug in his hair, it’s the most wonderful fucking sound Soshiro’s ever heard in his life. He groans when a searing wave of pleasure bursts inside of him, an unexpected orgasm filling his boxers with hot ropes of cum.

You hardly have time to recover before he’s carrying you over to the couch, setting you down in the messy nest of blankets and pillows strewn about on the wide cushions. But before he can do anything else, you’ve pushed him into a sitting position and shuffled around to kneel between his legs.

“Ya don’t have to…”

“Please.”

He can hardly deny you, especially not when he hears the satisfied sound that tips out past your lips when you slide down his pants and boxers to find the sticky mess of cum already coating his dick and balls.

His dick that’s already hard again.

“Did you come while you were—“

“Yeah,” he rasps, dragging a hand through his mussed hair.

You bite your lower lip. “Soshiro, that’s so hot.”

He doesn’t have a chance to come up with an eloquent response, because his entire body seizes up with pleasure as you lean forward and take his cum-covered cock into your mouth. Soshiro wonders how he’s ever going to recover from this—the sight of your kiss swollen lips smeared with filthy, sticky cum and saliva. As you lap it from his balls. As you suck every last drop off of him until he’s coming again right down your throat.

Soshiro thinks he’s going to climb on top of you when his cock stiffens once more, to stare down at you and press messy, hungry kisses to your lips as he thrusts inside of you.

But you’re adamant that you think he needs something else the first time, something more akin to the primal needs his body is succumbing to.

Soshiro knows you were right when he lines up his flushed, weeping cock with your slick, quivering entrance from behind while you lean forward on your hands and knees, the need in his body now burning hotter than ever before.

It takes exactly three thrusts inside the dizzingly tight, soaked warmth of your cunt for Soshiro to reach his next climax without warning, cum exploding from his cock as his hips violently stutter while he fucks his seed inside of you. It feels so good, he’s worried he might pass out, but his hips won’t stop rocking into the plush curves of your ass.

You whimper as you feel him fill you deeply, fingers digging into the blankets and couch cushions beneath you as your body rocks backward into him.

“More, Soshiro,” you beg. “I know you’re not done. I need more, too.”

Soshiro nearly growls as something desperate and feral unfurls like the crack of a whip inside of him, folding his body over yours and sinking his teeth into the soft juncture between your shoulder and your neck as his cock hardens again inside of the grip of your tight channel. You moan as he bites down, whining and gasping as you reach back to tangle your fingers in his hair.

Soshiro’s balls ache as the wet sound of skin slapping on skin fills the room, his throat dry and his muscles straining with the desire to pump you full of more cum.

“Harder, Soshiro,” you gasp, rocking backward to fuck yourself on his shaft.

He’s helpless to do anything but oblige as his hips begin to snap into yours at a brutal pace, his fervor only unraveling further when you shout as you squirt all over his hand right after he starts playing with your clit, your cunt rapidly spasming and contracting around his cock.

“Breed me, please,” you whine, gasping for air, your chest heaving.

He slams inside of you to the hilt as he comes hard, brokenly groaning in pleasure as the euphoric grip of your pussy milks the cum from his cock.

“Don’t stop,” you plead when he pulls out, feeling the way his cock is hard once more as it rests against your ass.

“S’ gonna make a mess,” he heaves, entranced by the load of cum dripping out of your cunt and sliding down the backs of your thighs.

You shiver when he runs two fingers through it, the sound dissolving into a moan when he gives in to the unexplainable urge to lean forward and lap some of his sloppy mess directly from your folds.

“Good,” you choke out.

It’s so fucking filthy—the amount of cum that slides out of you as he tries in vain to fuck it all back inside. The way you come again for him a third time from the feeling of the hot, sticky mess squelching inside of you as he murmurs against your ear, “Gonna fuck a baby into you. That what ya want?”

Soshiro’s so pussy drunk he can hardly think straight when he finally gets you where he really wants you—moaning into his mouth and dragging your hands through his hair as you straddle his lap on the couch. You alternate between riding his cock and letting him ease your pliant body up and down his length as he grips your hips, blazing a hot, open-mouthed trail of kisses along the curve of your jaw as he groans about how good you feel.

The state of the leather couch is a lost cause as you bounce up and down on his shaft, cum slipping from your cunt and coating the base of his cock in a creamy ring of fluid. Drenching his balls and his thighs as he fucks up into you harder, his seed sloshing around in your fucked out hole.

When he comes again, his head drops against the back of the couch as he tries to catch his breath, groaning as he watches a fresh wave of cum leak out of you with hooded eyes when you lift yourself off of his cock.

His still hard cock.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he sighs as it twitches with interest when you reach down and swipe your finger through the cum, licking it off slowly as you hold his gaze.

“One more,” you whisper, leaning forward to slot your lips with his.

You wrap your hands around Soshiro’s cum-covered cock, moaning softly as you rub your clit up against the firm base while you begin to stroke his length. It’s so intimate and sensual, the way your body presses up against his, the roll of his hips as he slowly twitches upward and fucks your fist before climaxing one last time.

–

Soshiro rouses from a deep, heavy sleep hours later, your head on his chest, your bodies tangled together in a pile of blankets on the couch. And he’s relieved to realize that he finally feels back to normal again. Albeit, every muscle in his body aches, and he doesn’t even want to begin to think about the mess the two of you left behind before passing out, but it’s a relief all the same.

When you snuggle up closer on his chest, he pulls you close and presses a kiss to the top of your head, whispering, “Mine,” into your hair.

“Is that still your dick talking?” you ask, tired and amused.

“Nah, just me,” he murmurs, lips curving upward in a content, relaxed smile.

#soshiro hoshina #hoshina soshiro x reader #hoshina soshiro #soshiro hoshina x reader #kaiju no. 8 #dee writes #spicy sleepover

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smokesandsonatas · 3 months ago

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Twisted Wonderland but make it grounded in dark reality. I drafted this around late 2023 and I just finished this now, haha. As always read at your own discretion and enjoy!

Warnings: Implied cannibalism. Dread.

Characters: Floyd and Jade, Leona, Ruggie, Rook, Idia, Lillia, Malleus, Others.

Not beta read.

Food.

- Any substance consumed by an organism for nutritional support. A means for survival.

You’ve always known most of them are peculiar creatures. Sharp teeth, mismatched eyes, monstrous forms, fins that glint with predatory sharpness, and horns that pierce the sky with arrogant pride. They embody the villains from the old fairy tales back in your world, grotesque and terrifying in equal measure. You suppose they function like civilized beings—they’ve learned to blend into human society, after all—but you can’t help but notice just how different, how unnervingly similar, they are to one thing: food.

The dishes at this college are like nothing you've ever tasted. Perhaps it's because many of them are children of royalty, so even the cafeteria food tastes like something out of a king's banquet. The pickiness of their palates is evident in every bite, in every carefully crafted dish. But there are things you find more intriguing than their refined taste; something almost hypnotic about the way they eat, especially when they don't mind you watching.

The scent of something delicious invaded Ramshackle Dorm in the dead of night. You assumed Grim was cooking, as ridiculous as that sounded, but found the little gremlin snoozing soundly beside you. Maybe it was the ghosts? But as you descended the stairs, you found the kitchen empty, devoid of any culinary activity. One glance at the night sky over Sage’s Island told you it was around 3 AM—far too early for breakfast, and far too late for dinner.

You tried to go back to sleep, but the tantalizing scent of roasted meat kept you awake, gnawing at your resolve until you could no longer ignore the hunger pangs twisting your stomach. Leaving Grim behind, you draped the sheets over his body, muttering a promise to return soon. Your curiosity and hunger led you to the cafeteria, which should have been deserted at this hour, but to your surprise…

They were all there. The ones you’ve grown closest to.

They were gathered around a long, elegant table, the atmosphere eerily reminiscent of Mostro Lounge—dim lights casting soft, ominous shadows across their faces. The table was laden with exquisite, expensive cuts of meat, arranged in a feast fit for monsters. And in the center of it all, a massive stack of roasted meat commanded your attention.

It looked…perfect. The tenderloin, you assumed, was butter-soft, with a thick, moist cut that bled a light pink from the center. The outer layer was roasted to a flawless crisp. But something about the presentation unnerved you, a chill creeping up your spine.

The pile of meat looked too much like the carcass of a person. Or a beast, perhaps. It was hard to tell. But you could almost see the outline of a body, as though someone—someone about five or six feet tall—had been subjected to the furnace’s extreme heat, roasted beyond recognition. Was that hair you saw near what should have been the head? Before you could inspect further, a voice called out to you.

"Ah! You're here! Come and join us, Shrimpy!" Floyd’s voice rang out, cheerful and disturbingly eager. His sharp teeth gleamed in the dim light, rows of jagged edges that could tear through flesh with ease. Beside him, Jade chuckled, slicing into a slab of meat with surgical precision, the knife gliding through like it was cutting butter.

Your eyes scanned the gathering. At the head of the table sat Tsunotaro—Malleus, the prince of fae. You frowned, under the impression that he usually is not invited in gatherings like this. But he nodded at you, a small, regal acknowledgment. “I was invited by Lilia,” he explained, his voice low and melodic. You glanced at his plate—a half-eaten steak submerged in a thick, red sauce. The metallic, almost fishy scent wafted up, assaulting your senses.

Before you could react, Lilia appeared beside you, his small hand guiding you to a seat. His right hand held a wine glass filled with a creamy red liquid that clung to the inside of the chalice. You tried to dismiss the fact that it looked too much like blood—thick, viscous blood. Surely, wine wasn’t supposed to look like that, but who were you to judge?

“Bonjour, Trickster! ~” Rook’s voice whispered in your ear, and when you turned, you were met with a sight that made your stomach turn. The smell hit you first—foul, putrid, like a freshly killed animal left to rot. It was too strong, the copper and iron scent so overpowering you had to fight to keep your expression neutral.

You hope your face does not betray the constriction of your throat.

“Rook,” you managed to say, swallowing down the bile that threatened to rise. “What…uhm, what is that?”

Rook laughed, the sound as sharp as the glint in his eyes. “Liver pâté, my dear,” he said, twirling his fork. “If it’s a strong scent, I apologize. It’s from the raw liver I like to eat with the liver pâté.”

Raw…

You tried to ignore the word. Back in your world, people ate raw food—sushi, for instance. So whatever Rook had on his plate was none of your business. At least, that’s what you tried to tell yourself.

“Shishishi, the food is sure delicious, especially when I’m getting it for free!” A voice cackled, startling you. You almost jumped out of your seat at the sight of Ruggie, devouring his meal with a voracious appetite. His sharp teeth ripped through the flesh with ease, tearing the meat from the bone in one swift motion. Red droplets—blood?—splattered across his chin, and you watched in horror as his tongue darted out to lick it clean.

“Oi, Ruggie, have some manners,” Leona growled from beside him, his voice gruff and annoyed. He wasn’t eating, his plate already littered with bones, but he was sipping from a glass filled with a red liquid. You wanted to believe it was wine, but the scent…The scent was as repugnant as the raw liver on Rook’s plate. It was metallic, nauseating

—blood.

A shiver trickled down your spine.

That same scent wafted from Malleus and Lilia’s glasses, clinging to the air like a dark cloud.

“You’re one to talk!” Ruggie retorted, his mouth full of meat. “You’ve never eaten a rat before, Leona-san.”

You blinked. Did you hear him right?

Your train of thought was interrupted by Malleus’s voice from your left.

“Shroud,” the prince of fae said, his tone commanding yet gentle, “drink this and replenish your energy.” You watched as Malleus offered Idia the same drink he was consuming. And to your shock, Idia accepted, his expression one of reluctance.

“I don’t really mind drinking this stuff, but I just don’t like eating much…” The Ignihyde dorm leader mumbled, his voice trailing off. You glanced at his plate—a barely touched piece of ‘steak’ with a small cut in the corner, oozing something you didn’t want to identify.

You could barely breathe as you watched Idia reluctantly take a sip of the viscous liquid from Malleus's chalice. His face remained as pale as ever, though a faint hint of color touched his cheeks. The sight was unsettling, and you couldn't help but feel a creeping sense of dread tightening around your chest.

"Not a fan of solid food?" Jade's voice slithered into your thoughts, pulling you from the trance. His mismatched eyes glinted in the dim light as he calmly sliced through his portion of meat, each movement precise and almost too graceful. "It's an acquired taste," he continued, offering you a smile that somehow did nothing to ease your growing anxiety.

Your gaze shifted to the plate in front of you, untouched and ominously inviting. The stack of meat in the center of the table loomed like a dark specter, its presence a constant reminder of the unease gnawing at your mind. You felt a pressure to partake, to show your acceptance of their world, but every fiber of your being screamed against it.

"Come now," Lilia's playful voice broke through the tension, "you should try it at least once. After all, it's not every day you get to dine with such esteemed company." He winked, the gesture meant to be comforting, but it only made you more wary.

You glanced around the table, noting the expectant gazes directed your way. Floyd’s sharp grin was still fixed on you, his eyes gleaming with mischief, while Ruggie gnawed contentedly on his bone, seemingly oblivious to the tension. Rook, watched you with a keen interest, his fork poised elegantly in his hand.

Leona’s gaze was the most unsettling, though. His amber eyes were half-lidded, seemingly bored, yet there was an intensity in them that made you feel like prey. His fingers drummed lazily on the table, and you couldn’t help but notice the slight curl of his lips, as if he was waiting for you to make a move.

Your gaze drifted across the table, stomach churning with a mix of disgust and dread. The dim light flickered, casting eerie shadows that seemed to dance across their faces—no, across their true forms. You blinked, the image wavering as if your mind was trying to shield you from something it wasn’t ready to comprehend.

Floyd’s laughter echoed, a sound that grated against your nerves. For a split second, you saw something else—an elongated, sinuous form, slick with scales, teeth sharper than any blade, rows upon rows of them, stretching endlessly down a gaping maw that promised nothing but pain. You shuddered, the image vanishing as quickly as it appeared, leaving you staring at the harmless, smiling face of the boy who once called you Shrimpy. Jade is no better. You can see the muscles bulging as his back turns, with sharp rows of fins scattered along his spine. If you were behind him right now, you’re certain he would cut you in half.

Your eyes flicked to Ruggie, who was gnawing on the bone of his meal with unabashed relish. But in the periphery of your vision, his form distorted—muscles rippling beneath fur that was too thick, claws that scraped against the table, and a maw that was too wide, too hungry, filled with jagged fangs meant for tearing, ripping, devouring. He glanced up, catching your gaze, and you quickly looked away, the image of the beast-man fading back into the all-too-familiar figure of a mischievous boy. Leona on the other hand, sit still. The image of a lion assessing it's prey. You dare not look at his eyes burning holes through your skull—you feel it.

Idia, who sits apart from the others, his presence a dark shadow at the table. There’s something about him that feels different, even among these monsters. His connection to the underworld is undeniable, a guardian of the boundary between life and death. The flickering blue flames of his hair and the way his eyes pierce through the darkness suggest something far older and more terrifying than any of the others—a being who has seen what lies beyond the veil, and who has perhaps brought a piece of it back with him.

Rook, you cannot even begin to comprehend how a human—like yourself, is able to blend in with them.

But the worst was Malleus. The prince of the fae was calm, serene even, but there was something wrong—horribly wrong. His eyes glowed too brightly, their green hue pulsating with an otherworldly light. And then, for just a moment, you saw what lay beneath that regal facade—a towering figure, wings that stretched endlessly, blotting out the sky, horns that twisted and curled like a crown of dark thorns. His smile was too sharp, too knowing, as if he could see right through you, into the very depths of your soul.

You closed your eyes, refusing to look at anyone anymore.

You tried to swallow your saliva, but your throat was dry, your mouth parched. The air was thick with the scent of blood, the tang of iron clinging to your tongue. They were all looking at you now, waiting, expecting you to take a bite, to join them in this feast.

Lilia’s voice broke the silence, light and playful as ever. “Come now, dear. Don’t be shy. You wouldn’t want to insult your hosts, would you?”

The pressure was unbearable, the weight of their gazes pressing down on you, suffocating you. Your hand trembled as you reached for the fork, the silver glinting in the low light. You knew, deep down, that whatever you saw—whatever you thought you saw—a no mere trick of the light.

They were not like you. They were never like you.

"I," you hope your voice does not shake, "I am full." You nodded, convincing them. You let out a nervous laugh, quickly standing up as you find the place too suffocating. Chair scraping the floor. "I'm fine! Really, I—ah, I need to go back, I have to catch some sleep and Grim is alone."

Floyd is quick to be by your side. His smile, wide and filled with sharp teeth, is unsettling. "Eh, Shrimpy, do you not like the food?" He asks, worry in his voice. You know it's fake: he's mocking you.

"I am good," you say with a strained smile. Please let me go, please, please—

"I insist," Malleus interjects, his voice smooth but commanding. "This is a feast meant for sharing. It would be rude to leave before sampling a morsel."

As if on cue, the others start to close in. Rook leans in closer, his eyes glinting with an unsettling mix of curiosity and amusement. "The flavors are truly exquisite, you know. Not something one should miss out on."

Leona’s gaze is heavy and piercing, his voice low and rumbling. "I’ve seen your kind turn down more robust fare than this. Surely you can handle a small bite."

Your attempts to excuse yourself only seem to stoke their interest further. The way they move, their unnervingly smooth motions, reminds you of predators circling their prey.

You might just be one tonight.

Floyd’s grin widens as he leans in closer, his breath hot against your neck. "Come on, Shrimpy. Just a taste. I promise it won’t hurt."

The pressure is mounting. They are pushing you to stay, to partake in their feast, and the atmosphere thickens with their silent insistence. Malleus’s eyes bore into you with a knowing gaze, his hand extending with a glass of the viscous red liquid. "Just a sip, if you please."

Every attempt to excuse yourself only seems to make their eyes narrow further, their smiles widen just a little more. The eerie calm of the feast surrounds you.

It is when you see the meat properly that you made up your mind to escape. It is in someone's plate, you do not know who.

It's in the shape of a finger. A charred fingernail dipped in red.

Floyd let out a yelp as you finally push him off of you, your steps quickening as you trace back where you came from: The path to Ramshackle dorm.

You heard Jade reprimand Floyd, the latter angry when you pushed him: How dare you Shrimpy was all you heard before you were out of their sight and you're running back, panting, to your safe space, Ramshackle.

Only to pause as Crowley stands in the steps of your door. His mask drowning the glint of yellow from holes that was supposed to be his eyes.

What... what the fuck.

Crowley approached you slowly, as if he's reaching out to a wounded prey, this is the first time you've ever seen him serious. You take a step back, should you run in the other direction? Where will you escape, Heartslabyul? Will they take you in there?

The headmaster let out a sigh, "My students here at Night Raven should perhaps know kindness from their teacher," he declared dramatically. Then he gave you pouch, full of madol. Thaumarks.

This is a bribe. Crowley is bribing you.

"Our little secret, alright?"

You blinked. What...?

"A little compensation for your troubles, for I am truly kind."

He then disappear, leaving you stunned.

At exactly 3:33 AM, a realization hit you. You are in the company of creatures far more dangerous than you ever imagined, their monstrous forms hidden just beneath the surface. One wrong step, one mistake, it can all come down. Crumbling to pieces.

It is inside when your knees give out, you slide through the door of the Ramshackle, too weak to stand anymore.

This is the truth: you are in the company of creatures mimicking humans, their monstrous forms hidden just beneath the normal exterior. But what terrifies you most is not the thought of what they are—but the thought that, perhaps, they see you as something less than human too.

The truth of what they were—what they really were—lurked just out of reach, like a shadow at the corner of your vision, waiting to pounce the moment you let your guard down.

But you knew better. Something had changed.

And as you sit there, the only protection you have are rotting woods that make up your dorm. You are just within the circle of monstrous beings in their friendly human skins. You are a magic-less, pathetic alien.

For in a world filled with monsters hiding in plain sight, the only question that remained was this:

What would happen when they decided they were tired of pretending?

Perhaps you will find out soon.

#twisted wonderland #s h u #malleus draconia #idia shroud #floyd leech #disney twisted wonderland #jade leech #leona kingscholar #lillia vanrouge #crowley #creepy twisted wonderland #eerie #twisted wonderland x reader #twst yuu #ruggie bucchi #rook hunt #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twst

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astralnymphh · 2 months ago

Text

ellie totally has a thing for behind-the-ear kisses. she pretends they irritate her, groaning a long, “why me?” over your shoulder when you ensnare her in the mornings. but because it is past your sightline that a reaction is given, the little fumbles of her lips carving into grins are concealed from you. she complains when you take from her fruit—sweep her wispy, baby hairs out of your way, and nip at her vulnerability—because she only knows how to do that.

she does not know how to open up; tell you she loves the saccharin you provide her, whisper the way it rays a peachy, summer heat up her cheeks. she would rather bury herself in you than show you her orchard eyes, which flick away with humiliation—even now. taking breath in slow, hands hinging on your shoulders. a pile of softness on her own bed. ellie just says anything in replacement.

“joel let the ponies out if you wanna—shit—uh, go meet them?” she thinks about the rural exoseleton that surrounds the house—leaden greens, yarns of light passing through fences—instead of you, and your lips, right fucking there. saving herself from a certain buckle-under. overwhelming surrender. she has to slip a joke to contain herself, contain a whimper when your teeth grasp her lobe. “t-they don't bite, not like you right now..” her rapid heartbeats transform into nervous chuckles. “please, babe?”

lets ignore how often i write blurbs about ellie being a loser for literally any kind of kiss. just spreading the gospel!

#⤹𓍢ִ໋aestras footnotes #ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams fluff #ellie williams headcanons #ellie tlou #lesbian #sapphic #ellie x reader #ellie williams x fem!reader #ellie williams fic #ellie williams fanfiction #ellie williams blurb #elliewilliams #ellie williams x fem reader #ellie williams x you #ellie williams x y/n #tlou2 #ellie tlou2

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upsidedownwithsteve · 10 months ago

Note

Emmy 🌸

Can I get a smutty little blurb of us and bestfriend!steve spooning in bed and it gets a little handsy😇 dry humping is underrated.

leighanne leighanne leighanne 🧡

18+

It was inevitable, really.

Too many nights sprawled in Steve’s bed, a movie forgotten on his television screen, the sun dying behind the houses across the street, sleep tugging at you both.

It was inevitable, really.

Too many hormones, too many close calls, too many what ifs? Too many glances at lips, too many jokes that suddenly sounded more serious than the week before.

You woke up with Steve curled around you, the TV dark static, the credits long rolled. It wasn't anything too out of the ordinary, bodies pressed together, your back to Steve’s chest, a heavy arm thrown over your waist and his nose pressed into your hair, his soft breaths telling you he was still very much asleep.

You would’ve slipped back into it too, if you hadn’t shuffled slightly, adjusting yourself against the boy and the pile of pillows around you, the stray popcorn kernels that had missed both the bowl and your lips.

It was inevitable, really.

You felt it then, hard and insistent, impossible to ignore - pressed against the small of your back. Steve’s sweatpants did little to hide it, the thickness, the length, the heat. You gasped, eyes wide, more awake than before and you knew it was wrong, you knew you shouldn’t have done it. But it was inevitable.

Wasn’t it?

You rocked backwards, feigned shifting in your sleep until your ass rocked against your best friend’s cock and it fit snugly against the curves of you. Bottom lip tucked between your teeth, you heard your heartbeat in your ears, felt it rattle your ribs, felt it shake the bed frame and when the boy didn’t stir, you did it again.

Hips rocking, shifting ever so slightly, ass moving up and over Steve’s cock, eyes slipping closed, squeezing shut and lip parting in a silent gasp when the head of him caught the seam of your folds underneath your flimsy shorts.

Steve sighed in his sleep, a husky, low moan and his hips canted forward to meet your own, eager, wanting. Right there, right on your clit, the perfect nudge, just right there—

“Shit, shit, I’m— I’m sorry, I— fuck—”

Steve woke, voice rough and sleep slurred, moving too slow, his brain barely catching up with the situation but you felt awful at the embarrassment you heard in his words and he made to move away, a little clumsy as the mattress dipped, his arm dragging from you waist.

You wanted to whine, you wanted to beg. So you caught his hand instead, kept it on your waist until the heat of it made your bones turn softer. It was easier to talk if you kept facing away from him, your cheek pressed to the pillow, your ass still popped out enough for the tip of Steve’s cock nudge against the swell of it.

“Stay, Steve.”

You heard the boy gulp, swallow tight and sharp, his hand flexing on your ribs. He paused, maybe to check if he was awake, maybe to check if you were. “What?”

“Keep going,” you whispered. “I don’t want you to stop.” You swallowed too, licking your lips nervously, suddenly terrified that this was the wrong thing to do. “You can keep going, if you want.”

Steve didn’t say anything, but he lay back down, closer than before, close enough for you to feel his lips on the back of your neck when they parted. His hand gripped your waist, fingers flexing over you until your shirt - his shirt - gave way and his touch found your skin.

“Yeah?” He whispered and his voice was rough, but so much more awake than before. His cock twitched, seeking out your heat, already leaking in his too tight boxers. “S’okay?”

You nodded, body burning, eyes focused on Steve’s closed bedroom door, waiting with enough anticsorion to make your head throb, hoping he’d make a move. “Felt good,” you told him.

You felt more than heard his soft “fuck,” breathed against the nape of your neck and before you could say anything else, Steve moved, all experimental, his hips rutting against your ass, his cock pushed between your cheeks, rubbing himself there.

“Shit,” he groaned, head falling forward until it rested against your shoulder. “Tell me if you wanna stop, okay? Just let me know—”

You shook your head, cutting him off with a plea. “Steve—”

The way you pushed back against him told the boy everything he needed to know. “Christ,” he groaned, eyes fluttering shut. He didn’t know where to look, the room just lit enough for him to glance down and see his cock nestled against your ass, a damp patch already spreading on the front of his sweats. “Say my name again, fuck, say my name like that, please—”

“Steve,” you complied, whiny and breathless and trying so hard to keep quiet. The dark gloom surrounding you both made it feel all the more forbidden. You took his hand from your waist, dragged it slowly enough for him to reject you if he wanted, your fingers tangled with his as you guided him towards your tits. “Steve, please, touch me.”

You didn’t need to ask again, Steve groaning low in your ear, his teeth scraping at your jaw as his big hand grabbed the cup of your bra, pulling it down so he could get his palm over you, squeezing roughly and soothing finger over your hardened nipples. He pulled at it, humped against you a little faster when you moaned into his pillow.

“Could come like this,” Steve whispered, nose knocking against the crown of your head as he moved closer, swearing into your hair when you lifted one leg and draped it over his, his cock slipping down to slot between the folds of your cunt, the dampness there making it easy for him to feel you beneath your shorts. “Gonna come like this, fucking hell, that okay? Shit— that what you want, babe? You wanna make me bust in my pants?”

You groaned, a hand thrown back to fist in Steve’s hair, pulling at him until he mouthed at your neck, more teeth than lips, nodding frantically when the head of his cock nudged up against your clit, rubbing through your folds.

“Yeah,” you agreed, “Jesus Steve, yeah, m’gonna come too, don’t stop—“

That was inevitable too.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fic #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fanfic #Steve Harrington fanfiction #Steve Harrington oneshot #Steve Harrington blurb #Steve baby blurb

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tinytennisskirt · 3 months ago

Text

Sweetheart

girl dad!patrick x babysitter!reader

summary: the growth of a mutual ‘crush’ between babysitter!reaser and the father of the little girl she babysits. problem is, he’s about fifteen years older than her and they get along a little too well. he has to remember fucking a twenty-year-old is wrong, no matter how much he might want to. no matter what other feelings might be involved… he just knows what he wants and it’s hard to ignore it when she feels the same way.

warnings: unedited from the notes app and i accidentally switched tenses so ignore that!!! and SMUT. tension. flirting. age gap, obvi! sex. sex. sex. rough.

babysitting for DILF! Patrick, his house is a little cluttered and messy but it’s his. He’s fixing his screen door when you come by, he’s got a nail clenched between his teeth, he’s not worried.

he thought you’d be younger, sixteen, maybe, but you’re twenty and a half, he deducts from asking about your birthday. he still thinks you’re gorgeous before he does the math, he’s a bit of a dirtbag that way…

tells you all about his daughter and what she likes to watch, what she likes to eat, says you can order pizza if you want and as long as she’s asleep by midnight, he’s happy. he’s more carefree than other parents you babysit for. you find your eyes resting on the muscle of his upper arm as he shows you around the house just so you can find your way. part of his introduction is just flirting, his face getting a little close to yours with that smirk of his.

you’re standing your ground and he likes that. he’s only half-aware of his intentions. asks again what your hourly rate is and when you tell him, he tacks four dollars onto it. you’re saying thank you, but he says he’ll be back by 1:30 and he’s out the door.

his daughter, dark curls and freckles is standing on the steps. she’s a happy girl, she’s polite and she’s smart, like- gifted smart. she’s silly and has hobbies of building cubes out of paper. she teaches you how and soon you’re in a pile of paper cubes.

she’s in bed by ten just because you asked her to be and she’s not fussy at all, just silly when she brushes her teeth. she has a good sense of humour and makes good references. as you tuck her into her pretty pink room with lots of books, she tells you she has ice cream in the freezer and that you’re welcome to it because she only pretends to like the flavour her dad buys her- eating it would help her out. she’s only six but her brain is amazing. you hope you see her again.

she goes to sleep and you turn off her lamp and slip out of her room. the hallway is dimly lit and you find yourself looking at the pictures on the wall. patrick was or is a tennis player, there are trophies on top of cabinets and old player photos. old player IDs and he was… hot. not that he wasn’t now, he was, but he was your age in these photos no doubt… came naturally to find him attractive. you continue down the hall and his daughter starts appearing in photos and he looks a little older but you’re noticing that there’s not a single photo of her mother.

it’s just them, you deduct. she’s not in any picture so she must not be in the

picture. you get the small tub of ice cream from the freezer and eat it on the couch, finding a show you’re fond of and watching it, finishing the small bit left, twirling the spoon around in your mouth.

you get up and look around the house a bit more. observing the clutter of books where his daughter sits on the couch, walking to where there’s a bit of sports equipment, tennis rackets, a few looking a bit… broken. smashed. you wondered if he broke them himself. your fingers traced over the pictures on the kitchen wall. he looks good without facial hair, you note, but you prefer him with. he looks like a great dad, the various photos of him and his daughter in various places, the beach, outside of a restaurant, pictures of her holding up his trophy while sitting on his shoulders. a duo for sure.

you wash your dishes in the sink and decide to maybe tidy up a bit, cleaning a few other things. you wipe down the counters and make the clutter into piles. you busy yourself until you hear the key in the lock. you’ve made the living room neat and tidy and you don’t know what to do when he comes in and he looks over everything. you just stand in the centre of the living room.

“she was really good,” you say, hand on your stomach. “she really likes broccoli, which i didn’t expect, but she showed me how to make paper cubes and she was in bed around ten, so i cleaned a little bit.”

he looked a little rustled, his shirt a little more wrinkled and his curls a little more all over. you assumed he’d had a good night out. he looked good, though. lucky woman, you were thinking. “yeah, i see.” he chuckled, setting his jacket down on the back of the couch.

you’re young and you’re shy and he can tell you’re nervous, “it’s okay? you don’t mind, i hope you don’t mind.”

“i don’t mind,” he grinned, pulling out his wallet, “it looks good, i never would have done it.” he steps closer, close to you, just in front of you, looking down at you. you’re under his gaze and he keeps eye contact with you as he pulls out his wallet and you’re a little taken aback by how intense it is. “i owe you how much?”

you state your old rate and he just grins, dimples on his face. the ones you only saw in his photos with his daughter. he smells like cigarettes and cologne. something about the way he looks at you makes you feel a little weak. your eyes fall on his hand as he flicks through bills, handing you about $60 more than you were owed. his bonus and a second bonus for the cleaning. “you don’t have to… i usually tidy up where i babysit.”

“well, i didn’t ask you to, nor did i expect it.” he says, grinning down at you. it’s smug and he smells good and he’s looking at you like you’re a meal and you kind of like it but he’s… an older guy. he has a daughter and she’s asleep and he’s tall and you are staring. he’s hot. he’s really hot and he’s looking back at you, “thank you. i’ll probably need you again in a week, are you free?”

you blink, “i’m free.” you tell him. “thank you… again. i really should be going.”

“do you need a ride home? she’s okay to be alone for a few minutes.” he’s still close, he’s still standing over you.

“thank you, but i’m okay. i just walked over, i listen to music there and back.”

“you’re sure? it’s late.” his grin is all consuming. you’re sure it’s stealing your thoughts as you continue to blank.

“i’m sure. thank you again. for everything.” you step past him and he turns with you as you go and slip on your shoes.

“thank you,” he says, shoving his wallet back into his pocket. “have a good night, alright?”

“i’ll try. goodnight mr. zweig,” you smile as you pull open the front door.

“patrick.”

“hm?”

“call me patrick.” he repeats, nodding.

“goodnight, patrick.” your smile grows into a grin and you slip out the door. he hates how he feels about you. you’re cute, he notes, but you had something about you. something he observed when he was handing you your pay that told you there was something more to you. more than nervousness and doe eyes and mid-length skirts. maybe not. but you’d be back here next week.

he heard how much his daughter liked you the next day. she rambled on and on about how pretty you were and how sweet and nice you were, how good your food was. patrick found it good to hear, the other babysitters often couldn’t handle her, but you seemed to with ease.

the next babysitting gig you were wearing a baby tee. a short sleeved, almost cropped t-shirt and jeans and you greeted him as mr.zweig again and this time he didn’t correct you. he told you to help yourself to anything in the fridge and that he’d be back around 1:00 this time. your bright eyes lingered on his hands, his forearms as he spoke, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. you couldn’t help it, he was gorgeous. and tall. he was very tall and very strong looking and maybe, just maybe it couldn’t hurt to have a small crush on him. only natural right?

he wasn’t oblivious. he saw the way you nodded when he was speaking. the way you fidgeted with the ring around your pinkie finger. you were gorgeous and you were sweet but you were young. too young. and he was going out on a date with a woman who was in fact, age appropriate. he wasn’t opposed to watching the way your hips moved or the way your ass looked when you went upstairs to find his daughter, but he was opposed to doing anything about it. you were a good treat. that was about all he could let himself think.

you had a good time with his daughter and once again put her to bed just a little earlier. 9:30. she didn’t mind, you did so much with her that she was right out. you swept, did some dishes, nothing too noticeable. you’re sprawled out on his couch when he gets back, you don’t even hear him come in. he nods, watching you watch tv for a minute before he makes himself known. he doesn’t want to startle you, so he jiggles the doorknob and pretends to shut the door so you wouldn’t know he’d been watching for a moment. you turn your head and sit up. “no rush,” patrick says with a smile. “how was she?”

“excellent.” you reply, sliding your hands down your thighs and onto your knees. “she’s amazing, i’ve never met any little girl so well-behaved and so smart. she’s very well-rounded. you did a great job.”

you almost made a grown man bashful. he smiled, looked at the wall, “she doesn’t get any of it from me. it’s all her mom.”

“oh… how long has it just been the two of you? i assumed… from the pictures.”

“her mom left a year in,” patrick replied.

“so it is from you.” you answered. “must be, who else?”

“must be.” he said, a bigger smile creeping up his face. “so you come over, watch a kid and flatter the parents, hm?”

“yes but only when i feel like it.”

“does it work?”

“with you, yes.” you were more bold, he noted. last time he’d made you nervous but he was standing just far enough away where you could hold your own. he wondered, stepping closer, if he could change that. he did the same thing as last time and stood over you while he went though his wallet for his money.

he hands the money to you, “that’s enough?”

you look at him with those wide eyes again, “mhm. yes. more than. thank you.” he was right, all it took was the close proximity to make you nervous. “you know i wasn’t trying to flatter you?”

“i’d prefer you pretend you were so i can pretend to hate it.” he chuckled, “thank you.”

“for?”

“she really likes you. you’re good with her. i’ll need you again in two days, are you free?” he smiles down at you. his eyes linger on your lips, slightly open. he found himself thinking impure things as he stared. he wouldn’t stop himself. there was no reason to stop himself. what a treat you were to have around, he reminds himself. such a pretty thing.

you smile at his ask, “i can be. i’ll text?”

“sounds good.” he nods. “need a ride home?”

“i’ll be okay.” you nodback. “thank you though.” you pick up your sweater and get your shoes on. you’re sweet, patrick wonders why you’re so okay with walking. it would cut the time to get home in more than half. aside from time alone with you, he does have a daughter and he would like it if you got home safe. “goodnight, mr. zweig.”

“patrick,” he corrects you again with that gorgeous, sly grin of his “please.”

“patrick.” you say, locking it in. but it feels wrong. too personal. “goodnight.”

“goodnight, Y/N.” he answers. your name on his tongue feels so strange to hear. you’re pressing your back to the door. god, he’s fucking hot. the other parents you’ve babysat for are very much so married and both balding, the boys your age weren’t so charming. this might be a problem, you developing a small crush… earlier it seemed fine, but faced with him. dear god.

you were back there a few days later and was patrick mistaken or was your short a little shorter? a tank top, completely reasonable for the heat, but it hit just above your belly button, just under if you weren’t moving. it’s not like it was inappropriate, if anything what was a babysitter if not hot? patrick remembered his babysitters from back when he was a kid and yeah, they were always hot and older and just out of reach. you fit the genre today expect not the older part. you were younger- much younger. at least your skirt was mid-length.

he looked at you, “you know my rules. that i really don’t have any and i’ll be back at 1:00, 1:30 latest.”

“leaving some room for a kiss goodbye,” you said under your breath. he caught that.

“something like that,” he smiled. if he didn’t know better, it was a pass at him for going out with women. it made him grin, in fact. it had some affect on you and you’d only seen him how many times?

you wouldn’t do anything, you knew that, but he seemed to look better and better every time you saw him. at first it was black polo t-shirts and jeans and he’d moved to long sleeved shirts with the sleeves rolled up and he smelled so fucking good, it was hard to ignore. you looked another way at his response, knowing he’d heard you, but what did it matter. could have meant anything… he could fire you if he thought you were bitter or judgemental.

his daughter was so excited to see you, she practically leapt into your arms. she was a thin girl, short in stature, it was no big deal. the perfect saved by the bell moment. “y/n!” she exlaimed. she was so happy to see you, it made patrick chuckle a little. you held her to your hip and something in him shifted just a little, seeing her resting in the crook of your hip like that. it flashed through him like a blast of heat and then it was gone. “you have to come see what i made today. a big cube!” she was so excited.

patrick shook off whatever the hell he just felt, snapping back to reality. “alright, honey, i’m heading out.” he told his daughter. he advanced a step to ruffle her braided hair. you wondered if he braided it himself… the thought was interrupted by his hand sliding over your waist just for a split second, enough for the leverage to kiss his daughter on the forehead. before you could think, his hand was gone and he stepped toward the door, grin on his face. “have fun. if you end up eating the ice cream, save me the last few bites.”

“okay!” she called to her father as he opened both doors, waving enthusiastically at her as he shut them behind himself. the second he was gone, she turned to you, “you’re eating it, not me.”

“deal,” you nodded at her. and you went upstairs to go see her big paper cube. You had her in bed at 9:30 again. you went to lay on the couch, kicking your feet up, your eyes settling on the picture of patrick on the wall. he was a good looking guy at your age. freshly shaved, not exactly baby-faced but compared to now, entirely baby-faced. you wondered what his type was, his daughter was such a little copy of him. she was a pretty little girl, long eyelashes and pigmented lips. her nose wasn’t exactly a button nose, but it was only a little bigger and it was perfectly proportionate.

you got up, looking at the pictures on the walls again. him, clean shaven, holding his daughter as a baby, big smile on his face. you smiled just a little at it. and the one of him holding her up in the air like she was simba from the lion king. she said her father helped her with the big cube… he was a good father. and she was lucky to have him.

you went and you got the tiny ice cream tub from the kitchen along with a spoon and you followed the pictures down the hall again. the pictures turned more to tennis memorabilia as you got closer to the end of the hall, where his room was. you found it really admirable that he never brought a woman back to the house. you stared at the door, just a little curious, but you weren’t that kind of person, so you continued to eat the ice cream and sat down on the couch again, snooping through his DVDs instead.

you left him about a cup and a half serving in the tub and watched pineapple express and thirty minutes or less and he came home at 1:05am. you turned, eyes meeting his before any words were spoken. he smiled just a little, “how was she?”

“perfect. you’re raising an angel, did you know that?”

“news to me,” he said, dropping his wallet and keys on the table by the door, adjusting his belt just a little. your eyes lingered on his hands. “here i thought i just had a daughter.”

“well, your daughter is an angel. she showed me her big paper cube, she’s very proud but she made sure you got your credit.” you said, moving your feet to the floor.

“i just held it together while she taped, she’s very authoritative when she needs to be.” he headed more into the house and you rose to your feet. “but she’s good with you. she likes you a lot, she doesn’t let me go a day without hearing about something you said or something you like.“

“ooh, and what do i like?” you said, moving around the couch to meet him on the other side. his hand was in his pocket, he grinned a little, that dimple on his face on full display.

“she says iced tea and chinchillas.”

“ooh, i do like those things.” you smiled a little. “she knows me.”

you were so peppy, he wasn’t one to want to get rid of that, but he was looking forward to his favourite part of the nights with you. he stepped forward, the same fashion as always, close to you. grabbed his wallet again, went through his bills. pretended not to notice the way you instinctively pushed your hair behind your ears. you were met with the scent of his cologne again. “she really does like you, you know. do you watch kids during the day? i have something to attend to on wednesday and i need you friday night. you’re free then?”

“i think so.” you nodded. “and i do watch kids during the day, i would love to come by and watch her, how long were you thinking?” your sentences lost their pep and spice at his closeness.

“i’ll let you know,” he nodded, handing you the money and meeting your eyes, sly grin on his face still. you were so pretty, all doe-eyed. “i paid you until 1:30, by the way,” he said, watching you eye the money in your hands. “to spare the thirty minutes kissing goodbye before i came home.”

you pressed your hand to your head, “i am sorry i said that, it’s not my place.” you were more apologetic than you’d been when he was several feet away the first time you thought it him.

he just grinned, knowing he made you feel bad for something he didn’t take to heart. “you were right. no shame in it.” he said. “how are you getting home?”

you uncovered your face, “bus today.”

“you know who rides the bus at 1 am?”

“me?”

“not tonight.” he said. “i’ll drive you.” he didn’t even ask this time. “c’mon.” he tossed his keys up and snatched them out of the air and it was hot. he was too hot. too hot to be in a car with for the ten minute drive.

you swallowed hard, grabbing your jacket and slipping out the front door, patrick locking it behind him. he had a camera outside his door, she’d only be alone asleep a little while. “you don’t have to drive me home, mr. zweig,” you spoke up once you were more than a few feet away. “i usually make it just fine on my own.”

“i’d feel better seeing you get home safely.” he said, opening the passenger door for you. you hadn’t thought him the type to. “you live with your parents?”

“no,” you said, getting in. his car was a little messy but it was mostly papers and an empty cigarette carton or two. you moved them to the back seat. “i have an apartment off aberdeen street.”

“mmm, yeah i know where that is.” he nodded, starting the car. “just want to see to it you get home alright. i haven’t been the best with it, but you’re the best babysitter we’ve met and i can’t have you going missing or see you in the obits.”

“morbid,” you noted, smiling. “i’m that good? is that your thing, babysitter comes over, watches your kid, and then you flatter the baby sitter?”

patrick grinned wide as he reversed, which was hot, his arm on the back of his seat as he did. “yeah, but only when i feel like it.” he rebutted. you smiled.

“and does it work?”

“you tell me,” he answered, your heart skipped a beat. he was probably the hottest man you’d ever seen in your life and you had to come to terms with that. you swallowed hard. he was good with callbacks.

you couldn’t even answer his question. you had to straighten out, recalibrate. he understood your silence. maybe he’d overstepped with that last one. “does she like tennis?” you asked him.

his smile got humble, “i tried. she’s not a sports girl.”

“that’s fair. neither am i.” you nodded. “tried, couldn’t.”

“also fair.” he chuckled. “so what kind of girl were you?”

“were or am?” you asked. he hated that he wanted to know so badly… he hated wanting to know anything about you, but he wanted everything. the image of his daughter resting on your hip flashed in his mind again. “i think more… writing. reading”

“anything good?”

the conversation continued, going over books and ones he skipped reading in highschool. that and tennis, his career. you were impressed. and he pulled into the lot of your building, putting the car in park.

“thank you for the ride,” you said, just a little desperate to get away from him. all the closeness and the conversation god he was so fucking hot. the car smelled like him and the cigarettes and you were just a little bit dazed.

he chuckled, watching you undo your seatbelt, his eyes on the exposed skin of your waist. “i’ll see you wednesday?”

“i still need a time,” you nodded, “but i’ll stay flexible.” you said, opening the car door. you could smirk when he wasn’t so close to you. he smiled back. “see you then. thank you again for the ride home.”

“you’re welcome, sweetheart,” he grinned. and he was evil. he knew it. he watched your expression struggle to stay the same, those pretty eyes wide. you smiled a little nervously, shutting the door and fully reacting once he couldn’t see you. you tried to compose yourself, but your body felt like it had burst into flames. you waved, going into your building as fast as you could. the entire ride up the elevator, you were thinking about it. replaying it, repeating his sentence in your own voice just completely thrown. it was a lot. sweetheart.

fuck. you took a cold shower but it wasn’t enough to keep your hand from diving between your legs. back arched, sweetheart echoing around your head. imagining those hands of his on your throat, wide, strong. he probably tasted like cigarettes and god, the thought of it was more than enough. it was only the first time of a few that night that you did the same thing.

the next morning you woke up feeling just a little confused, but he was the first thought in your head. and what was two more times before breakfast?

you got up eventually, grabbing your phone off the counter where you’d left in such a haste last night. you looked over the new messages in your phone,

was thinking 3-7, that work for you?

with freshly washed hands, you typed back

sounds good.

so casual. and you got there at 2:55pm on wednesday. patrick was dressed for tennis, leaving with his rackets. “you still play.” you said, looking at his things. “game day?”

he let you in, smiling, “practice. hi.” he noted your skort and tank top. more skin. “have you had lunch?”

“no, actually, i was just going to wait until dinner-“

“there’s hot dogs on the stove,” he said. “help yourself.” he seemed like he was in a rush, grabbing his water bottle. “and iced tea in the fridge. yours.” he said, grabbing his keys. he stopped in front of you, close to you, smile on his face. it clouded your thoughts a moment. “see you at seven.”

“see you,” you replied warily, blinking hard. he looked you up and down before leaving. you slowly made your way up the steps. it was a good thing his daughter was so happy to see you, you would have read into that.

she talked to you all about her drawings, showing you one of yourself. she was so sweet. she talked to you all about her drawing of her dad, her tennis rackets oddly detailed in crayon. you spent the afternoon together, you helped yourself to one of the cans of iced tea in the fridge.

patrick was back by four, just a little sweaty. you hated that. after last night’s sex imagery, seeing him all sweaty was a horny girl’s nightmare.

“dad!” his daughter greeted him by jumping up on him. he dropped his bag to pick her up. “me and y/n made hot dog people. come eat, come eat.” she said. you pressed your lips together to stop from smiling when patrick shot you a semi-confused look. he carried her into the kitchen, you grabbing your purse, getting ready to go. you had just finished making dinner, which you didn’t have to do, turning the hot dogs from lunch into a topping for the macaroni and cheese you’d made. that and broccoli. simple, something little miss picky eater would have.

“wow,” patrick nodded, looking at the hot dogs that had been cut strategically in person. he looked at you, sitting in the chair at the table with her on his knee. “you did all this?”

“all this?” you chuckled, “of course not, i had help.”

“i stirred,” his daughter nodded.

“very good.” patrick nodded. “think you’re going to be a chef?”

“maybe,” she said, a little sing-songy. “i’m

good at stirring.”

“she’s so good at stirring,” you nodded. patrick chuckled, eyes set on you. “i’ll get going.” you said, checking your purse for your phone. “you guys enjoy. i’ll be back tomorrow, so no need to pay me.”

“n- why don’t you stay for dinner? i didn’t hire you to make us food and run.”

“please!” his daughter leapt off his lap and pulled you to the chair. “eat!”

you smiled, “thank you. i really can’t though, i have to run! i’m so sorry, baby.” you crouched down to her height. she pouted. “if i didn’t have to go meet my mom, i’d be here eating our food, i promise.”

“your mom?”

“my mom came to visit me today, she’s at my apartment waiting. i’m so sorry, baby.” you said, wrapping your arms around her. patrick watched the way her arms wrapped around you too. she really, really liked you. “i’ll see you tomorrow night though. i’ll be here early, we can make dinner again and everything. whatever you want.”

“can we make pizza?”

“it’s a friday night, why not?” you smiled. it was cute. “i’ll bring the ingredients tomorrow.”

“yay!”

“yay is right.” you kissed her cheek and cupped her face just a little before standing up again. “you enjoy your hot dog people.” you said. you looked at patrick, who hadn’t seen you in action with his daughter yet. he was a little bit in awe. she loved you. it was more than a like. the other babysitters were tantrum material but you were an angel just the same as his daughter. he hated how he was thinking about you after something so pure, thinking about you. eyes lingering on your thighs, your waist. thinking about you, something so fucking paternal in him wanting you. it was dark. “i’ll see you both tomorrow.” you said, giving him a little look. it was cheeky. like you knew something.

“thank you,” patrick nodded.

you nodded back, waving bye to his daughter before slipping out the door. patrick would be lying if he didn’t give into himself that night. his hand pressed to the shower wall, hand pumping as the water poured over his body. he hated himself for it, but it was your image that pushed him over the edge. his daughter fast asleep, his thoughts were disgusting. he felt disgusting, it’s why he chose the shower. you were too young. and well he was a bit of a dirtbag, the age gap was enough to even throw himself off.

you, your little shirts and little skirts, the way you looked in jeans, the pout to your lips, your eyelashes, your eyes that screamed innocence when he got too close. fuck, it was dirty the way he thought about you. he thought about fucking you on that couch you were always on. the extent to which his mind went was so fucking wrong, so wrong, he reminded himself. he went to bed guilty. a grown man turned guilty.

patrick was glad he had a date the next night. someone to fuck his age to get you out of his head. he was never more glad for a sad date. his eyes fixated on you. “gonna let me in?” you smiled. he realized he was just standing in the doorway after you knocked. a near-bashful grin spread up his face, turning sly. “you know, you’re paying me by the hour and it’s 5 right now. you’re paying me to stand outside your door.”

he smirked, moving out of the way to let you in. he smelled good, date night cologne. you almost rolled your eyes. “i pay you enough for it, don’t i?”

you giggled a little, “true! i’ll go back out there if you want.”

he chuckled, fixing the cuffs of his sleeves. “i wouldn’t hate to see it. if you didn’t make a promise for pizza to little miss upstairs. all she’s talked about.”

“oh i love that, i’m so excited,” you said, putting the bag of ingredients on the table. “i was thinking of making you one too, are you a fan of pepperoni?”

“big fan,” he nodded. “olives too.” he looked into the bag of ingredients, pulling them out.

“you don’t have somewhere to be?” you asked, coming to help pull things out of the bag with him. “hot date?”

“something like that,” he answered a little monotone. “i’ll be back at one.” he nodded, backing away. you nodded back, following him to the door. god, he needed to leave for his date before your eyes got to him. your hand trailed the back of the couch, walking with him. “that’s okay?”

“you’re asking me?”

“you look like you’re about to tell me my curfew,” he replied, grabbing his wallet and keys.

you smirked just a little. your mind wandered down to his hands, the hand that had your waist just days before. your eyes met his, “oh yeah. come home when the streetlights come on?” you joked, that gorgeous smile his main focus.

he grinned, “i’ll try,” you were so cheeky, god he wanted to fuck that grin off your face, he had better be gone before he did. “have fun with the pizza, help yourself to the drinks in the fridge. she’s in the backyard.” he held his keys a little too tight in his hand.

your smirk stayed. he’d never been more glad to be going out as he drove over with your voice in his head. he ordered a drink as soon as he could.

your pizza night went well. it was good, delicious, even. she was a good little helper, obsessed with getting everything perfect on her dad’s pizza. you smiled. she slept early again, tired from all the pizza and karaoke and dancing. you were a little bit tired too. you hopped on that couch and you were out like a light.

you woke to patrick’s hand gently on your shoulder. you blinked a few times, rubbing your eyes. “oh my god, i fell asleep.”

“you’re okay,” he chuckled. “it’s a good couch for it.”

“great for it, apparently.” you nodded, sitting up. “i’m so sorry, that’s so irresponsible of me.”

“it’s late, it’s understandable.” he replied. “i’ll drive you home.”

you tilted your head, with a smile, “kicked out so fast. i’m so sorry for falling asleep on your couch, if i’d known it would ruin the way you see me, i would have never even sat on it.”

he chuckled, “okay, c’mon. i’m not kicking you out, i’m getting you home in one piece.”

“i appreciate it,” you smiled genuinely. “but i’ll be okay.”

“you were asleep about two minutes ago,” he said. “you’re not going home alone.”

you really couldn’t handle another ten minutes alone with him in his car. your hand was still cramping from the other day. he gestured the way of his car. “you had fun?”

“so much,” you told him. “she insisted on making your pizza ‘happy’ which took her about thirty minutes because the smile didn’t look right. your pizza is resting on the stove. she devoured hers and probably half a bag of mozzarella cheese.”

“she loves cheese,” he chuckled. “i’ll need you again tomorrow, is that okay?”

“tomorrow night?” you asked. you stepped closer to him, a twist of fate he didn’t expect as he grabbed his wallet. it was that time of night, but it was you who moved forward on him.

“tomorrow night,” he said. you fought the urge to ask if it was the same woman. it wasn’t your place to ask. he looked at you, the way you were looking up at him, so fucking perfect and so fucking… he felt his pants tighten at his growing erection. fuck. he hated that you had him like this. such a fucking grip on his mind, his emotions. it was so frustrating, beyond frustrating. “that’s okay with you? short notice.”

“i wasn’t busy.”

“you’re never busy.” he smiled a little. “you know most girls your age go to the bar. flirt. drink.”

“i’m not legal drinking age,” you reminded him. fuck, that was too true. couldn’t be more fucking true. you were only twenty. “i’m well aware of what girls my age do. i find the time between, believe me.”

he chuckled, “yeah?”

“yes. i do all of those things you mentioned and more. i’m a riot. a party girl. you know this money pays for my coke addiction.”

he held the door for you, grinning, “glad to be of service. you know how obsessed little miss upstairs is with the snow queen from narnia.”

you laughed, hand on your stomach. he kept his smile smug. “that’s good!” you laughed, leaning against his car. he locked the door and walked down the few steps. he stepped close, your laugh faded away as he reached around you to open the door for you. you were trapped between him and his arm and the car. you blinked a few times and he smirked as he walked to his side of the car and got in.

you got in with him, buckling up. fuck. he was good. you almost recovered from the close contact, he put a cigarette between his teeth as he backed out of the driveway. you thought that was hot. “you smoke?” he asked, pulling onto the road, lighting his cigarette.

“no.”

“mmm, good girl.” he said, blowing smoke out the window. he grinned to himself. if you weren’t wet before, you were now. your breath caught in your throat and you felt your cheeks and ears burn. fuck. fuck. fuck. it was all you could think about. good girl, he knew exactly what you wanted to hear and it was a good thing it was exactly his vocabulary. if he gave in right now he’d pull over and fuck you to pieces and you know what, you’d take it. you almost veered the car off the road yourself.

your throat was dry. your brain was screaming to kiss him at every red light. fuck him here in his car in the middle of the road and get dragged away only by cops with tasers and guns and batons. your whole body was hot, white hot, burning.

he just smiled to himself as he drove. he didn’t mind the silence, it had a good reason. it had flustered you so badly, you couldn’t crack any witty little cheeky jokes. he said goodnight and watched your ass as you walked inside.

the desperate need to get off was so wild you almost called an ex. like you were drunk on some strong alcohol his words reverberated around your brain it called for bad decisions and a need to fuck SOMETHING. like you were a creature, you needed something, someone inside of you now. it couldn’t be him, he was gone.

no, he was too old, it wasn’t because he’d gone home to his perfect, lovely daughter because he was a grown man with a six year old daughter and he was technically your employer and fucking him would be wrong. but it would feel so good. you had to resort to your own hands, sliding down into your underwear on your couch in your apartment. fingers rubbing your clit vigorously. you breathed hard, thinking about him fucking you in his shitty car on top of all the papers and cigarette cartons. fucking you so hard your head hit the car door repeatedly. he could have. if he had done anything to you after saying those two words, you would have let him do anything he fucking wanted to you.

you slept like a baby, knocked out after several rounds, enough to dull the need to be fucked to a low hum. he messaged you. before you went, though.

3-8?

perfect.

you replied short and sweet before passing out.

the next day you were back at his. he was in the driveway, you were just a little late. it wasn’t a big deal. he said goodbye, very friendly, very normal. you went inside and did various crafts and activities with his daughter, letting the good girl thing slip your mind.

he was back by eight. eight on the dot. talking about his mom being in town. you didn’t inquire. you had to meet some friends for ‘drinks’ at her place. you said goodbye to his daughter, smiling and telling her you’d see her soon. patrick thanked you for making chicken, paid you extra plus bonus for the pizza ingredients the other day. he didn’t seem like he really had this kind of money to be giving you, but you took it.

in taking everything else, you said goodnight and headed over to your friends house. had a can or two of a pre-mixed margarita, talked about things with your friends. it wasn’t until the conversation turned to something you needed to show them a picture of when you realized you didn’t have your phone. you looked around everywhere- your phone was expensive, you didn’t have the money for a new one. you got up and looked around and then it hit you. your phone was probably at patrick’s.

you didn’t have his number memorized. “do you need it?” your friend asked. “can you get it tomorrow?”

“i guess i could, but that’s my uber home and all of my cards are in the back, i wouldn’t have bus fare, i wouldn’t have- fuck.”

“just go honey, we’re not going anywhere!” your other friend chimed in. “i literally only have enough for you to get one bus, but get a transfer to come back?” none of them could drive impaired. or would. you shut your eyes. you hated the idea of showing up unannounced. but you took that bus fare. and you got on a bus over to patrick’s. you walked down his street trying to rehearse what stupid thing you’d say about this. forgetting your phone- like an absolute idiot. you had no idea where it even was but you came straight from there to your friends so it could be three places and the bus was not an option you could seek out.

you walked up the front steps and quietly knocked. you tucked your hair behind your ears and folded your arms over your chest. the evening air was chilly for a tank top and a skirt. it was a moment before he answered the door, it was around midnight so you knew he’d be up. or you hoped. it was stupid to even have come, but the margs were hitting just enough to screw up your decision making.

he was surprised to see you at the door. opened the screen door. “hey,” you said. “i’m so sorry about this, i’m so sorry- i know it’s late-“

“yeah- are you okay?” he asked, looking to see how you got there.

“i’m fine, i just… i think i forgot my phone here.” you said. it wasn’t the smoothest delivery. your eyes wandered down his body, eyeing his true build, hidden underneath those other shirts. the one he was currently in was tight, a black t-shirt. and sweatpants. he was muscular but it was all soft, soft features. one of those dad bods that bad definition not to pass as a true dad bod, but one still. holy fuck, this was a terrible idea. he grinned, running a hand through his hair as he leaned against the doorframe. “it’s so stupid, i know.”

“happens,” he chuckled. “you want to come in and look for it?”

“could i? i would be so quick,”

“i’m not in any rush,” he replied. “c’mon.” he stepped out of your way, holding the door as you came into the house. most of the lights were off aside from the adjustable dim ones in the kitchen. he turned on the lamp in the corner. “she’s with her grandma at the hotel tonight.” patrick said, starting to look around. you looked over at him. “is your ringer on?”

“i have it off when i’m with her,” you replied. patrick smiled. it was sweet. “fuck, i really am so sorry about this mr. zweig, i-“

“how many times before you call me patrick?”

“hm?”

“patrick.” he restated. “i’m not calling you ‘miss y/l/n’.”

“very true, i’m sorry sir,” you said, leaning in a little as you passed him, looking up on the mantle of the fireplace.

“that’s worse,” he chuckled.

“i think you like it.”

oh, it kicked into existence. hard. that fire you’d felt before lit up in his body. you were so smug when you thought you could be. it was all witty and teasing and the need to fuck that teasing smile off your face was back. you were too young, he reminded himself, watching you bend to look under the couch cushions. fuck, why did you have to be so…

the margaritas maybe made you a little bold. not too much, you were still you. he checked the table, looking around more for your phone. “what does it look like?”

your laugh from the other room was so pretty. “red!” you called back. red phone… red phone… patrick was so glad to be separated from you by a wall. he was hard just thinking about you. having you here was dangerous, his daughter away, nobody could stop him from doing what he wanted but himself. his morals. you were twenty years old. barely fucking legal. he was almost 20 years older than you. but you followed him into the kitchen, pretty doe eyes and pouty lips and worried eyebrows and he could have fucked you on the table when you looked at him. “nothing? again, i’m so sorry for coming in like this.”

“it’s fine,” his words were a little more forced than natural. “bright red?”

“dark red,” you replied.

“flashy?” he meant if it had anything to make it stand out.

“no sir.” you put your hands on your hips and turned around, looking on top of the microwave, behind the stove. anything. you and that tiny skirt, what the fuck was he supposed to do with himself? twenty, in a little skirt on the tips of your toes looking in high up places. the skin of your waist showing as you stretched, finding nothing. “fuck, it’s really nowhere.” you turned to patrick again, pressing a hand to the side of your face. “tell me you hid it and this is funny and that i didn’t drop my phone with all my cards on the bus on the way to my friend’s. i’m begging you.”

he shook his head, grimacing a little. but you were standing just below him, close to him. you looked up at him, observing his expressions while thinking this all over. you’d been so stressed you forgot patrick was hot as fuck. and it almost took you by surprise to snap back to reality here, where he was looking at you like there was something he wanted from you. it was extremely flustering, you blinked it off and went back to the living room to check again. patrick went down the hall and checked the bathroom.

“found it,” he called from the bathroom. you were glad this was over, you needed to get out of this house before the idea of being home alone with him sunk in. him in his tight black undershirt… him in his sweatpants, you tried and tried to ignore the print. he handed you your phone and you slid it into your purse.

“thank you so much,” you nodded, eyes meeting his. his eyes were dark. “again, i’m so sorry to disturb you this late and without warning.”

“anytime,” he was so excited to have you get the fuck out of his house. he watched your hips move as you walked out of the bathroom and down the hall. “where are you off to now?”

“i’ve got to go meet my friends again. i’m probably going to get the bus back, i have a transfer.” you showed him the little white slip of paper, your back pressed to his wall by the door. you looked him over, trying not to think about his ‘sweetheart’ and the way his ‘good girl’ lingered in your brain. you felt that fire ignite in your lower stomach. you had to say goodbye. and fast.

“let me drive you?” he offered. he didn’t know why. he’d probably crash the car. something about the night, something about the way you looked in this lamp light, the idea of being alone.

“i’ll be okay,” you said, stepping just a little closer and it wasn’t even voluntary. “it’s a short trip. a few stops.”

“remember what i said about the obits?” he tsked. “i’d rather see you here at my house than in that section of the newspaper, thanks.”

“here at your house?” you smiled. “it’s either die or be here at your house, i love that.”

“what can i say? i like you here.” he shrugged. you tilted your head. he cleared his throat, “you’re good with her.”

“so you’ve said.” you nodded. “thank you.”

“no problem, sweetheart. and i’m driving you.”

“you’re not driving me,” you replied.

“but i am. c’mon.” he picked up his keys.

“mr zweig,” you reasoned, pressing your hand to his chest. your heart beat hard in your chest as his choice of words. “i’m fine.”

it was getting harder and harder to remember why fucking a twenty year old felt so wrong. he looked down at you, your hand on his chest. mr. zweig, like it was the worst thing on earth but the hottest fucking thing to come out of anyone’s mouth. he looked at you, his chest rising and falling like his restraint was an exercise, like it was a fight. it might have been the hardest thing he’d ever had to do. your magnetic force was pulling him in and soon he’d have to chain himself to something so he didn’t do anything that’d get him in trouble. you were too fucking young. too young. too young.

you stared back. and the moment felt like forever. you could make it back alone but you weren’t sure if you candle heading back to your friends when you felt like this. that ache was back, the one that felt like drugs, like alcohol, like gambling, like the edge of an addiction, knowing the hook, the high is right there. your restraint was prettier, just a reminder that he wouldn’t. you’d let him, but he wouldn’t. it was more cut and dry to believe it was a crush and as much as you wanted him, he wouldn’t. for his daughter, for the sake of the springs on his bed, you hoped. you let out a breath between perfectly parted lips, shrinking into it.

he couldn’t. he wouldn’t. the problem was that he would. he would. he wanted to. he needed to. the second you were gone he’d go feel disgusting about it as he fucked violently into his hand, crude imagery plastered on the inside of his eyelids and he’d go to bed guilty and vile and disturbed. but you were right here and you weren’t gone yet. it was the same feeling, knowing you’d probably take the bus home just to find peace with a showerhead or even the fucking doorman of your building. you’d take anything at this very moment. what patrick wouldn’t give to have some trashy woman in his bed right now. he could call one of his dates up to fuck- he would have given so much to have been with one of them right now. because looking at you, he couldn’t… you were too pretty to be fucked by him, he’d ruin you. you were too young for him. too young and too pretty and too perfect.

he wouldn’t. you were fantasizing just looking at him. your body in flames, burning in a pit of lava, absolutely rolling in hot coals. you needed to stop. you needed cold water. ice water. liquid nitrogen. cryogenic freezing.

“i think you should go,” patrick managed. his voice was cold but not cold enough to cool you down. but he was right. you should go. the idea you’d leave was the same as believing it was all over and a guard was let down. you had the same feeling, moving just slightly to put your shoes back on, but only getting so far as an inch.

it was spontaneous and it was harsh, but it was insanely mutual, the way you kissed. you’d believed you’d get peace and that you could leave, no, wrong move. very wrong move. he kissed you with a force that pinned you to the wall, lust masking the impact of your head against the wall. hungry, starved, violent, he kissed you, hands on your waist, gripping hard as they moved down to your ass, squeezing, grabbing. fast, messy, sinful, his hands under your ass, he lifted you up against the wall.

it would have taken more than the jaws of life to pull the two of you apart. it was fast paced, like the both of you were in some sort of vicious caged battle, your arms around his neck, fingers curled right into his hair. you’d never been kissed or touched like this before. you were moaning from just the kiss and he swore the god he’d never been harder in his life. neither of you could wait, there was no time to just kiss, you weren’t teenagers, you weren’t patient or naive or curious, you were demanding, grabbing at each other like a lifeline.

he stepped off the wall, carrying you the best he could, too distracted to actually know which way his room was. he could have you on the couch, he was impatient, so were you. he let your feet down, your hands desperately clutching his shirt, pulling him down the hall as you kissed nonstop, breaking only for small breaths and for your shirts being stripped as you walked backward. his big hands cupped your face, pressing you against both sides of the hallway while your hands fumbled with the drawstring of his sweats. there was no time for any of this.

it was animalistic. it was the basic need, it was desperate. you crashed into his closed door and patrick swore to god he’d destroy anything in the way of him fucking you right now. he would have either kicked his door in or fucked you against it, no problem, but you reached behind you and opened his door so he didn’t have to do either of those things. he was blinded by lust, your hand down the front of his boxers within seconds of being in his room. you crashed backward onto his bed, crawling over him in your skirt, your hand stroking him up and down, but he had no need for it.

in seconds you were flipped onto your back and you were working together to kick your skirt and underwear off, gone to the same abyss his pants and boxers went. you were too young, patrick reminded himself as your bra came off. too young for him, too young, to pretty, too perfect to be fucked so hard by him. but he had you and there was no stopping him. it was a mistake, it was wrong, but there was nothing in his way as your hand slid down over his chest, following the trail of hair. he kissed your neck enough to make you cry out as his teeth followed his lips, leaving what would be nasty marks by morning.

your legs open, ready for him, he didn’t waste a single fucking second more, grabbing your hips and fucking into you. you swore to god you felt stars with how hard his first thrust was. he filled you to the brim, you weren’t sure you had any more space of all of him inside of you. you felt him stretch you out from the inside and you had no time to adjust to just how huge he was as he was instantly pounding into you. “good girl, taking all of it so perfectly,” he groaned. your nails were already in his back, desperately grabbing for something. your moans were loud and fucking pornographic. he wouldn’t have thought something like that could come from your pretty mouth. he wasn’t very considerate for your young, tight pussy as he thrusted into it with a violence only seen in the most gruesome of acts. he’d wanted to fuck women before, but he’d never needed to fuck someone so badly in his entire life. and it showed with the sheer force of which he fucked you. “you feel so fucking good.” he assured you with a decency that was not genuine whatsoever. it came from a place that disgusted even himself. you were only twenty…

“oh my god!” you exclaimed. you were sure he was actively bruising your cervix. it hurt so fucking badly but it felt too good for you to care. you saw stars, they spun and danced as your pleasure took over your entire body, legs wrapped around him, shaking already from the impact. skin on skin, loud as you both were, groaning, moaning, dirty little strings of words slipping from his mouth as he fucked you. “fuck me, fuck me- fuck!” you couldn’t help the noises you made, pathetic, reduced to just a moaning mess and a puddle of a girl who had only thought this was a violent crush.

“so wet for me, you wanted this so fucking bad, hm?” he taunted, evil grin on his face.

“uh-huh,” you sighed, hardly able to say the words. “s-so-“ you knew you had something to say but it was gone, erased repeatedly with every thrust into you. you’d have a witty response if it wasn’t for how good and all-consuming this was. “god-“

he fucked you with all of his pent up frustration, his hand sliding up the soft skin of your neck, pressing just gently, but enough. you were moaning loudly, the headboard hit the wall hard, and that hand on your neck moved to shove his fingers in your mouth. it was enough to make you into something even less, taking them in your mouth like you should. “so good for me, so pretty- fuck-“ he groaned, strong thrusts not faltering for a second. “this what you wanted?”

“m-mhm,” you said, pretty lips closed around his fingers, struggling to feel so much at once.

“so fucking perfect, guys your age fuck you this good?”

“god- fuck- no,” you moaned. he took his fingers away. he lifted your leg up, fucking into you with a new angle that spread goosebumps all down your skin. you were being fucked dumb- you were sure that you were forgetting your own name actively. losing yourself in this. patrick had never fucked anyone so hard in his life, feeling himself reach the furthest point inside of you over and over and over. “patrick-“

his name moaned from you gave him new momentum and you couldn’t help the constant warm rushes that ran over your body like pulses, like waves on a shore. your body was a solar system of exploding stars. the hands that travelled your body were sure to leave bruises on you by later… harsh and strong and not letting go, fingers in your flesh. it was only fair, your nails dug into his back, he was probably bleeding. “gonna come for me, sweetheart?” he said, grinning over his own groans. if he’d been anyone else the question would have been stupid, sex is never that good, but this was. no clitoral stimulation needed he was hitting every right spot in the right way. you felt it like a knot coming undone, like all the stars that were exploding were both imploding and exploding rapidly, like a blinking threat for the collapse of a universe. dramatic, an imperfect display and an unfair comparison but so fucking needed. you nodded hard, mouth open, breathing hard, kissing him when you could. it was messy, uncalculated, but so fucking perfect.

out of desperation, you lifted your hips the best you could to meet his harsh thrusts. needing to finish, needing this more than you’ve ever needed anything. you couldn’t help the grin that spread up your face, even in the heat of things. you won. he caved, you won. and he couldn’t fuck this smile off your face. you only held it as long as you cut put off finishing, the friction, the feeling building up to crash around you. it was full-body, felt entirely. your nails dug into him harder and he waited just another moment to spill into you. you felt it hot between your legs as he continued to pump in and out of you, so much cum that it seeped out before he could pull out. he didn’t think about anything but you, how wrapped up he was in this, how fucked he was. he’d lost to a pretty twenty year old. as if this was some sick game. you’d both gotten what you wanted, but the cost was greater.

it was the hardest orgasm you both had ever felt, both of your ears ringing, breathing heavily, feeling all of it. to the greatest extent possible. he pulled out and collapsed beside you, his back stinging as it hit the bed. your smile returned as you tried to catch your breath, the stars dancing out of sight slowly. “oh, i’m fucked,” patrick breathed, hand falling onto his chest.

you laughed breathily, “other way around.”

he chuckled over his harsh breathing, chest rising and falling deeply. he rubbed his face, but it couldn’t erase the fact he had sex with a controversially young woman. what was worse? the fact he had needed to fuck her so badly or the fact he didn’t feel any better about it afterward? or the surprise third thing that was the urge to keep you close?

“okay, listen-“ he said, propping himself up on his elbow turning your way, but you grabbed him by the jaw and pulled him into another kiss. a second kiss, with a different meaning than the first one. it was still hard to breathe but he didn’t mind, grin spreading up his face, a little sly, dimple showing. he felt a little less ashamed with this kiss in the way. it was different. oh he was soooo much more than fucked now.

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