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pennjammin · 3 months ago

Text

PONYTAIL.

JJK HALLOWEEN! gojoxreader

SUMMARY ❥ you have a huge, embarrassing crush on the star of the jockey team on campus. you thought you’d kept it low key, ‘till he approaches you at a halloween party, and shows you that the mechanical bull isn’t the only thing you can ride.

CONTENT ❥ collegestudent!gojo, smut, unprotected, slight breeding kink mention, college!au, athlete!reader, afab!reader, athlete!gojo, drug/alcohol use, spit kink, switch!gojo, switch!reader, masochism, sadism, aftercare, car sex.

song inspo: can’t get enough - j. cole

WC: [8.1K] MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

Crisp fall air brings out the gooseflesh among your skin; hair that's not there trying to rise at the thrill of tonight's festivities. The sidewalks are packed to the brim of frat boys, sorority sisters, general slackers and... even an alumni or two. So many people to choose from, you think.

Everyone’s in costume; faces concealed by masks, clouds of smoke mixing with the breeze, and overstimulating noises from animatronics. The holidays were here. You should be trying to find a relationship, to cuddle you through the cold, but right now you just want to bone.

"Where do we even start?" you hear your friend ask from behind you, as your whole group walks - stumbles, more like - down the middle of a road that has been closed to through traffic.

"Whatever house has the most fine men standing outside," your other friend answers with a grin.

You agree, because you had already shot down a fair amount of Don Julio - and the heat of the drink had travelled straight to your core, a small throb arising in your cunt the more you glance around and see the variations of muscles poking out from underneath masked strangers’ costumes. You’d easily find the satisfaction to your hunger, but you’re impatient.

You hum longingly as your eyes fixate on a crowd outside of a large house, painted black. There’s fog rolling over the lawn, but that’s not what draws you in; it’s the group of men deep into a drinking game out front.

Without warning your friends, you beeline over. You wonder if any of them are as needy as you feel right now. The liquor alone could not justify the painful feeling of heat all throughout your nerves; it was mostly your hormones. Pathetic, you tell yourself, so incredibly ready to sit down on someone’s cock.

As your friends follow you down the pathway to the large house, you feel several pairs of eyes stick to you like bologna on hot asphalt. That's right; you and your girls are just pieces of meat dangling in front of a den of lions.

You're not surprised, though, because you’re in a brown leather brazier, accentuated by puffy white sleeves that hang off your shoulders, tucked into a skirt. You have a whip on your hip, and your boots are up to your fishnet-covered knees - one of which leads to the garter holding a toy gun against your thick thigh; to add, it shoots out a little pow flag when you pull the trigger.

And it's clearly mesmerizing in the way that you wear it well, walking right into the party with your liquid confidence through the roof, aware of one of your friends falling behind to entertain someone who had called out to her.

Once inside the belly of the beast, you're farther away from the center of attention; it seems that everyone on campus had read your mind about picking this particular house to step into. It made sense; the house was huge outside, but even bigger within.

The room is littered with men and women alike; most sloppily grinding on one another on the edges of the room, others filling their noses with bad things, but above all: you notice there are cheers coming from somewhere in the center.

You realize why as you part through the crowd, dusting your friends to see what the excitement is. And when you see it, you feel yourself grow both confused and aroused.

There, under a bright red spotlight, is an entire brown and white mechanical bull. Somehow, it had fit into this massive room, and there’s still plenty of room leftover for the influx of students. You're as impressed as the rest of the group, who watch as an ebony-haired man lacking a costume walks around to check the plugs on the bull, and bleakly instructs everyone to take several steps back.

Bass had been booming under your feet, competing with the sound of blood rushing through your ears, but it’s slowly fading away now; a voice travels over the remaining bustling.

Everyone seems to freeze as out from the crowd walks a tall, lean individual with powdery skin. He's wearing something similar to you: a black button-down shirt, leather pants, and brown boots, but most importantly - you feel your breath hitch when your eyes land on the delicious black Stetson that rests atop his contrasted snowy locks.

You feel mixed things blossoming in your chest: unease, desire, and… embarrassment.

You’ve been completely obsessed with the boy in the Stetson for months. Satoru, ‘Toru, and Gojo all being the names he answered to. You’d hopelessly pined over this Satoru, each time noting in your mind just how attractive you find him. He’s on the jockey team; you always see him in a tight, white riding suit with his helmet perched against his hip. You’re the soccer team captain, so you share a field for practice, and, well… Satoru doesn’t make it any easier for you to lock in while you train.

Your friends had noticed your infatuation and would giggle about him to you, saying how you looked like a cockdrunk puppy when he would kick himself on top of the horses - all of the muscles in his legs and arms moving underneath the skin you desperately wanted to crawl into.

He managed to pour gasoline directly onto your fire the first time he’d bumped into you on your way to the locker rooms.

“Careful, ponytail,” he’d said, a smug wink fluttering from his eye.

Then it happened again. And again. Each time you bumped into one another, he barely said two words to you, never seeming to truly notice you or take you in. This didn’t stop you from wearing your hair in a ponytail every single time, though.

He would likely not even recognize you now, given your costume and heavy finesse of makeup, a striking contrast to the sweat sticking your hair to your forehead and your muddy soccer jersey every time he’d seen you in the past. But you knew you recognized him, given the way your body was already responding to his presence.

"Alright now, y’all can't all be this shy," Satoru’s horrible attempt at a country accent booms into the crowd, gesturing wildly to the mechanical animal. "Anyone wanna be the guinea pig? Someone's gotta. I'm definitely not doing it."

A bit of laughter erupts but yet, the crowd remains still. You notice people trying to egg their friends on to test it out, but no one is either drunk or brave enough yet. Satoru continues to glare around the room, walking slowly as the spurs on his boots clack against the hardwood floor, as if he is genuinely a westerner interrogating everyone.

You suddenly feel a gush of pressure hit your back, and four hands send you lurching forward, causing you to accidentally step out beyond the crowd and into the center of the room with the snow-haired man. You exclaim loudly and your friends cheer, which prompts him to turn and look at the commotion.

"Well," Satoru’s velvety voice says, lowering his eyelids into a heated squint. "Seems we have a winner."

His lips disappear as they tuck in to wet themselves, and when they pop back out they are glistening under the red light. Though you cannot see his eyes under the harsh lighting, you can feel them, as well as the heat traveling up through your belly. You wonder then if he might possibly be remembering you.

No way, you tell yourself.

You attempt to turn and look at your friends, who are no doubt giggling endlessly at their little prank, but your head hardly cocks to the side when your hand is being grabbed by a larger, warm one.

You instantly look in the direction of it, your eyes traveling up your arm in disbelief, only to find Satoru is smirking at you.

"N-No, this was a mistake," you try to argue, but he is already gently coursing you towards his body, and your legs feel like jelly as you mindlessly obey like a little doll.

"Don't be afraid," he murmurs to you, hypnotizing you with his voice as he walks backwards, guiding you right to the steps that will allow you to get onto the bull. "You look like..." he pauses, cocking his head to the side and your heart drops, "you'd know how to hang on, no? You've got those strong legs."

You let out a breath. He still doesn’t recognize you. But you know he is referring to your thighs, which are on the larger side from all of the exercise you do for soccer. He's right, you do have the strength to keep yourself on the bull, but whether you want to do it in front of everyone remains to be seen.

"My friends pushed me forward," you blurt out, "I-I really… don't think I can do this."

His voice has lowered by now. It seems like he wants only you to hear him. Not that it mattered, as the crowd is still quite loud and so is the music thumping from another area of the house.

"I think you can," he responds, dipping his head forward like a proper cowboy, feeding into the twisted little costume he’s in. "My name is Satoru, but you can call me ‘Toru. What's yours, madam?"

You almost blurt that you already knew his name, but catch yourself.

"It's Y/N," you say bleakly, knowing he’s only asking to tell the crowd, not because he is interested in knowing who “ponytail” really is.

Not that he has indicated at all that he remembers you, which makes a little twinge of jealousy poke you in the heart because of the way he was looking at you. He must look at every woman like this.

"Y/N," he repeats slowly, as if memorizing the name, simultaneously gliding his piercing eyes down your body again and stopping briefly on your leg — the one with the gun strapped to it. "Give us a show, pretty girl. I think everyone is looking forward to this."

You'd reached the steps to the bull. You begin to suspect that Satoru is the “everyone” in question. You want to try and fight him more, but something about his voice, his unhindered belief in you despite being a total stranger caused you to want to prove him right.

You can do it, you can ride it and not fall off, no matter how intense the settings.

One final look at him, and you release your hand from his, realizing the two of you had been standing there holding hands this entire time. He broke away, but not before giving you another look that might as well have had fire attached to it in the way it sent searing erotica up your body. You’re disgusted at just how awfully, hopelessly, desperately in love with him you are.

The crowd had been falling more quiet as you approached the chopping block, it felt like. But now, it's returned to cheers and whooping as you get on your tip-toes and sling one leg over the side of the bull, your skirt bunching up around your hips.

You spot your friends, who have acquired more drinks; colorful green and purple ones. They lift their cups when they notice your eye contact, and make kissy-faces as encouragement. Or perhaps they’re making fun of your obvious puppy-like expression every time you so much as look at Satoru.

"Alright everyone," he announces suddenly, clapping his hands before walking around to the front of the bull and patting its headless neck. "Y/N has bravely stepped up to the plate tonight. Since you’re all too pussy.” Laughter from the crowd. “Let's see how long she can last."

He turns and looks up at you, dropping an eyelid down into a familiar wink and clicking his tongue.

An irritating piece of man, he is. He doesn’t have to be so damn gorgeous, easily distracting you as you grip onto the reigns around the bull's nonexistent neck, all the confidence draining smooth out of your mind.

You don't have time to think about it much more because of the sheer level of noise that erupts from the room; the crowd has erupted into whoops and whistles, music’s blasting around you. A good old fashioned hype party song, that has prompted the crowd to lose their mind.

The red light makes it hard to see much of anything beyond the first row of people, which is helpful for your nerves, but it also means that since Satoru is standing the closest to you and the bull, he is the only thing you can clearly see, as he presses the button to trigger the ride.

You gasp as it begins vibrating, something you had not expected to happen. The bull jerks to the side, before the rear end perks up, knocking you plain forward and winding you. Your breasts bounce upward and the crowd oo’s.

Satoru smugly continues to operate the bull, keeping it slow as he courses it to knock forward and back, forward and back. You sit back up, trying to defeat gravity, your grip still strong on the reigns. But little do you know that you’ve been out of control since you stepped on the floor. Satoru’s taking his precious time sinking his claws into you.

Your thighs dig into the side of the bull and Satoru spins you, jerking up the rear again; the force knocks your skirt up.

You gasp, wanting to let go of the rope to adjust it, but you know you’re going to fall off if you do. You've made a vow that you cannot fall in front of Satoru, no matter how far he pushes you to your limit. Besides, you figure, having your ass our in front of him wasn’t necessarily a bad thing.

The crowd cheers, realizing Satoru is operating the machine solely for their gaze, and not necessarily to challenge you.

But you have yet to put that puzzle piece together.

You continue innocently focusing on staying up, but make the mistake of looking at Satoru again. He's looking up at you from beneath his eyelashes, his top teeth poking out as he tugs on his bottom lip with them.

"Doin' so good," he mouths, pushing at the the controls again.

You groan a bit, the vibration of the bull suddenly feeling even more intense, though it's likely just a combination of your imagination and the tequila.

Your head falls back as the bull begins to move in a galloping motion. More cheers erupt, and a darkening gaze is shot from Satoru that you can't see with your head tilted.

The vibrations shouldn't feel this good, you think. You start to feel embarrassed at the thought of getting wetter on top of this bull, in front of all these people, but you can't help it; your eyes flutter closed as you try to focus beyond the pleasure.

Satoru is drinking up the sight like a glass of water in the middle of the night. He can see his effect working more and more on you, your thigh muscles flexing harder as you dig them deeper into the side of the bull. You must not think anyone notices, but he can. A sick fuck he was to currently be jealous of a literal robot.

You suddenly spring your eyelids apart and cry to Satoru that you have to stop. You can't handle the ecstasy creeping up on you, your embarrassment outweighing your desire to prove yourself a strong bullrider. If he keeps operating like this, you’ll cum all over the back of the bull.

Satoru looks hesitant but he ultimately stops the ride, and you take a deep breath when the vibrations come to a halt. The bull steadies and you loosen your thigh muscles.

Despite feeling like a failure, the crowd cheers anyway; you were up there for what felt like a lifetime, but realistically it hadn't been long, and you were expecting people to clown on you for not lasting. It's not like you couldn't stay up; it was more like you couldn't hold your pathetic desire to bone the cowboy at bay.

Satoru comes around and helps you down, the same routine as before with his hand in yours, only this time you're putting some weight on him as you feel yourself struggling to stand with your legs apart.

"You did so good, pretty girl," he coos, not even phased by your body weight. "Rode so well. Thighs a bit sore now I bet, hm?"

You feel your stomach knotting up at his word choice. "A bit," you answer grimly. "The vibrating didn't help."

"Really," he drawls, not even attempting to make it sound like a question. "How so?"

You begin to suspect he knows exactly how. His hands have found your elbows, his arms wrapped around you to keep you steady, and you find yourselves in a darker corner of the room with a convenient lack of a crowd. You blink and the bull seems a great distance away. No one is looking for you, either.

"Doesn't matter," you huff, looking at the floor. "It's embarrassing to say."

"Say it," Satoru purrs, taking your hands in his before placing them both right over his chest pecs. "Tell me what it did to you, hm? Maybe I can help, ponytail.”

You gasp then, your eyes immediately shooting up to meet his face. You almost fall over at the idea that he knows who you are, that he’s recognized you. This means that now he absolutely cannot fix what the bull had done to your poor cunt, although... with the way he's eating you alive with his pupils alone, your morality wants to fly right out of the window and beg him to fix it.

"Made me so horny," you breathe, immediately smacking yourself in the mouth at the coercion of your confession. “Th-That is not what I meant to say.”

Satoru's chest shakes against your palms as he laughs, "Adorable. Got all hot and bothered from a bull ride? Should’ve known that’s all it would take.”

Your face heats immediately. "I've been drinking," you admit with a slur, sinking farther away from sobriety. "Normally it-it’s not that easy.”

You laugh, trying to mask it as a joke, but Satoru's face is dangerously still.

“It is,” he murmured, “you always have the same little expression on your face at practice, just from seeing me.”

You want to be embarrassed that he’d caught you. But right now, your darkest, perverted fantasies are coming alive right before you; and you’d be a fool not to feed into them.

"Because..." you breathe out, feeling your back hit a wall, unsure how you ended up here. "Why do you always look so good?"

"Been thinking the same thing," he mewls, leaning over you with his hands still holding yours to his body. He lets them go then, and puts his own flat against the wall on either side of you. "Got up there and rode the bull like a champ - you can imagine what it did to me."

"What could a perfect stranger have done?” you whisper, knowing, begging, wanting the answer to be something raunchy and wet in your ear.

Instead, in a flash, his rock-solid pelvis is digging into your stomach, and he twists his hips to allow you to feel the even more solid length under his leather pants.

"We’re not strangers, ponytail," Satoru hums in your ear, just like you’d wanted; warm breath traveling through your hair and down your neck. “Always see you eyein’ me on the field. Goin’ outta ya way to knock into me afterwards. Been at this for months.”

You can't help the little whine that escapes your mouth. Your cunt had been pulsing all night, but now you can almost hear it. It's screaming at you to slide your hands down his body, to reach the waist band of the leather on his pants and then dare to explore further—

His gasp takes you out of your clouded fantasy, as you realize it's not a fantasy at all. Your hand is resting cutely over his bulge. You had been acting on your twisted, unwarranted desires from weeks ago all along.

"Ngh, knew I chose the right costume," he murmurs in your ear. "Knew it’d finally get your attention, get you to wanna ride me.”

You sink your teeth into your bottom lip. You’d been caught, being so obviously needy. You wish you can say you’re embarrassed, but when your hand doesn’t immediately move away from his dick, you know you’re fucked.

You feel yourself shuddering, your hands moving from his waist, over his ribs, passing to his shoulders; your palms sliding over thick, unidentified shapes and running down the curves in his arms. You couldn’t stop, you needed to know what all of him felt like.

“You didn’t have to be a cowboy to get me to ride you,” you whisper, “but if you care about saving horses that much-“

"Hah- shut up," he grunts. "'Fore I take you against this wall. Shouldn’t - hngh - be doing this here.”

“Isn’t this your frat house?” you question. “Take me,” you pause when his gaze darkens, “take me to your r-room.”

He groans, a velvety sound that raises the imaginary hair back up on your neck.

“Not mine, but I’ve got an idea.” He backs away from you, and the cold sensation of his body heat leaving yours makes your heart thump in pain. “C’mon, pretty.”

So he takes your hand again, and again you let him lead you around like a little pony. You don’t see your friends anymore, but you imagine the groupchat is blowing up. They no doubt saw you disappear into the shadows with Satoru.

You manage to escape to the outside without so much as a second glance from anyone, as you’ve started a riot for a turn on the mechanical bull. The memory of riding it seems so distant now.

“So tell me,” Satoru begins suddenly, pulling you hard against him, and you stumble before he puts a hand on your waist to steady you. “Just how long did you intend to keep watching me? Makin’ me all nervous before you made your move?”

You are stunned by his bold line of questioning, but he knows full well how tipsy you are, and that you’re going to answer as honestly as you can.

“I made a move the first time I ran into you,” you squeaked. “Thought you’d take it from there, but guess your balls aren’t big enough.”

This makes him grunt a bit. “If I would have made the first move, you’d still be limping. I don’t like all the small talk.”

“I see,” you purr, “otherwise you wouldn’t be leading me to this field, would ya, ‘Toru?”

“Not a field,” he corrects. “I’m parked back here. What do y’think I am, a serial killer? Wouldn’t just fuck you in the wilderness. ‘Less you asked.”

It had a nice ring to it, but you aren’t quite wasted enough to not care about being seen out in the open like that.

You reach his car and, pretending to be a gentleman, he opens the door for you, and while you sink in, he goes to the trunk. You begin to feel your heart race; you hardly know this man, actually, and maybe you’re stupid for thinking with your cunt instead of your head. Letting him lead you out back, all alone to his car.

Your nerves ease when he joins you in the back seat, nothing more than a bottle of liquor in his hand.

“Think we need to loosen up some more,” he says sternly, unscrewing the cap. “Not that I need alcohol to take care of you, ponytail, but it’ll definitely make things interesting.”

You nod in agreement, knowing you can certainly use more liquid courage. You wait for him to pass you the bottle, but instead you feel chilly fingers connect to your chin, and his thumb courses your face towards his.

“Open those lips f’me,” he murmurs lowly, tilting your chin up towards his face and bringing the liquor bottle closer to yours.

Your eyes widen in realization of what he’s about to do, but the throb between your legs has resurfaced full force at the ghost of a grip he has on your chin.

Hot liquor is sliding down your throat before you even register that you’ve parted your lips. You gasp and close your mouth into a bubble, trying to breathe through your nose as the liquor starts to go down harshly.

Satoru’s watching you intensely, “Don’t swallow it all,” he instructs quickly, to which you find yourself glaring at him.

The interior of your cheeks is going numb, and he’s telling you not to swallow.

What he does next, though, makes your skeleton jump out of your skin and back in again.

He opens his mouth; his long, fat tongue sticking out as far as it will go with a delicate curve in it. He points to his open mouth, while looking at you through his eyelashes.

You feel your face go numb. Your cunt was pounding now, secretion wetting your inner thighs and covering your pussy. You spread your legs a bit, trying to use Satoru’s backseat as something to grind down onto.

You begin doing so as you sit up straight a bit and lean forward, before pushing your cheeks out to spit a steady mix of liquor and your saliva right onto Satoru’s glistening tongue. He hisses immediately, before gripping you by the neck; taking you by surprise when your air flow becomes restricted. Your face is jerked to his as he swallows the liquor you just spit into his mouth, nipping your bottom lip.

“Tastes s’good,” he rasps, “Know you’ll taste even better.”

“But—“ you want to ride him already.

Wanna get him deep in your belly, use your hips to wring more of those deep moans from the depths of his throat. You don’t know if you can wait for that.

“But what?” Satoru challenges, applying pressure to your massive thighs with his palms. “Y’should know by now you can trust me. Didn’t I take care of you on the bull?”

He slides his finger up your stomach and to the cups of your brazier, tucking the tip of the digit inside and tugging the material down, a nipple begging to be exposed.

“Had it vibrating as hard as it could,” he continues, cocking his head to the side, careful not to let his Stetson slide off. “Still can’t get you riding it like that outta my head. Fuck.” He hisses again and—

Crack!

His hand comes down hard on your thigh, pulling a pathetic cry out of you. You look up at him through your lashes; he’s so beautiful with the way the moonlight casts a glow along his jaw, his wet lips, and the brim of his Stetson.

“Quit looking at me like that,” he says, creeping closer to you.

“Make me,” you mouth brattily, and so he does.

Keeping his hands both occupied on your thigh and your throat, he finally crashes his desperate lips against yours, creating harsh reverberations through your teeth. He starts the kiss off hard and unsure, but once you’re kissing him back, the kisses get sloppy, ferocious, desperate.

You let out a whimper against his lips, and in the split second your mouth is open his tongue has made its way inside. The muscle clashes with yours, drenching your mouth in his saliva as he takes your tongue for his own.

Meanwhile, his hand has left your throat. It’s back on the trim of your brazier, and without warning, his fingers gives it a harsh tug and your breasts are out.

He doesn’t break away from the kiss but he does glance down and start palming the meat of your chest, pinching one nipple between his index and thumb.

Not much noise is made besides your shared frustrated grunts as he breaks away from your sloppy kiss, leaving his drool all over your mouth and chin as he dips his charming head down to latch onto your nipple.

He pulls one of your legs up onto his lap, as he nestles himself next to the other one, now between your legs, and you’re forced to lean back against the window and press your hand against the back of the passenger seat for balance.

Satoru is not showing your breasts any mercy. His hand glides across the skin on your leg, before he takes his fingers in a walking motion up your thigh and then quickly grabs your tits into each hand, gathering large loads of spit and hacking them onto your chest, the glorious sound of the fluid hitting your skin making you wetter and wetter and—

He takes a big hand and pop! smacks your achingly solid nipple, dragging a loud, embarrassing cry from you.

“S-Satoru—“ you moan, undecided if you want to tell him that it’s too much.

“Hmm?” he questions, the word coming out muffled as he now has a mouth full of breast again, his tongue swirling greedily over your areolas and sending signals to your tingling nerves.

“S’alot,” you stutter, “feels t-too good.”

“Don’t care,” he shrugs, pulling away from your chest and bringing his face back up to yours, “not finished with you. Not even close.”

You whine as he cracks a smack on your tit one more time for good measure. Now he’s pulling your legs, causing you to lose balance and fall onto your back.

The back seat is spacious, but you think there’s no way he’s going to be able to bend his body to do whatever he thinks he’s about to do.

He doesn’t seem to be thinking like you, though, because his hands hike up your skirt and he hisses at the sight of your panties, not even hesitating.

“S’cute, look at the little cherry,” he grins seductively, poking the fat of your pussy with a sharp finger.

He’s referring to the pattern on the front of your tiny white thong, but you’re hardly paying attention because your mind is still ringing at his sudden contact with your cunt.

Rip!

His hands are tearing apart your poor little fishnets, paving a way for him to get your panties off. He succeeds, struggling a bit to get them past your boots; folding your knees up to your face as he does so, commenting on your flexibility.

“Hah- I love athletic girls,” he says aloud. “So flexible. Gonna have your ankles by your ears, ponytail.”

You squirm underneath him at his threat, but he’s already pinning your legs up, your boots grazing across the ceiling of his car as he stares down at your glinting pussy - dripping all over his expensive white leather.

If the alcohol wasn’t currently hitting you like a train - your brain mushing and swirling from being slapped and pushed around - you’d be trying to force your legs closed to hide from him.

“Such a fucking pretty pussy,” he grits out, leaning forward and shooting a collection of spit out of his mouth right onto it. Your eyes roll, the warmth of his body fluid landing right over your clit, making the bottom half of your body twitch. Satoru grins.

“Don’t even need my spit, y’so wet; I just love the way it looks on you,” he murmurs, keeping his hands firm on the underside of your thighs, “‘M gonna mark you with all my fluids, pretty.”

“Shut up,” you cry out, “if you’re still talkin’ it means your face isn’t stuffed with pussy.”

“Mm, ponytail gets fiesty,” Satoru looks at you from between your thighs and bites his lip, “there’s no fun in rushing right into these things, you know.”

He turns his head to the side, still wearing his Stetson - it’s somehow managing to hang on through all of the filth - and he plants a soft little kiss to your inner knee. Then another to the other leg. He rinses and repeats this process until he’s far up your thighs, and you can feel his breath dancing over your dripping hole.

“F-fuck,” you scream out, getting more frustrated, “‘m gonna shove your face if you don’t stop.”

“Try,” he challenges, but his eyes say that if you do, you’ll be teased for even longer.

"Wh-Why are you doing this to me?" you pant, ramming your knee into his rib playfully.

"Cause truthfully," he says lowly, "I liked the little game we had going. Building up the tension. Hate to see it end..." he drags his finger down the side of your thigh, making you shiver. "And hmm, you are such a pretty girl, begging like this. Imagine if your teammates knew that their beast of a captain was in the backseat of a car, begging to have her pussy eaten? Imagine!”

His breath tickles your cunt as he cracks a mean laugh, his head tilted down so that you can’t see his expression under his hat.

You swallow in embarrassment. You always go for a little teasing, but this is extreme. Before you know it, your hand has popped out before you, and your fingers splay out over the cowhide of his Stetson as you push - hard - and push until his arrogant little mouth is against your pussy.

He’s shut up instantly, groaning softly against your skin as his tongue darts out on instinct, lapping up your juices.

“That’s right,” you whisper with ache in your voice, “shut up and eat that shit.”

Your head lolls back against the window panel in Satoru’s car. He’s not even bothering to argue with you now, lost in his own heaven of your delicious nectar. If you could see past his hat you’d be able to watch as his face becomes wet and shiny, as your secretion dribbles down his chin in a heavenly mix of saliva. His tongue drags down between your folds, making you squirm, but it’s nothing compared to when he shoves his tongue right into your wanton hole.

The cry you let out vibrates against the interior of the car. Satoru’s hand has come up underneath your thigh, pulling your leg to rest across his back as he’s slid down into a crouch on the floor. His hand cracks down on your leg in the same spot as before, this time digging his fingernails down into the flesh after the slap.

You hiss, but ultimately feel even more turned on as he drags his tongue back through your juices, finding your clit, narrowing it out as he flicks it back and forth, back and forth, the same way he had been rocking you on that damned bull.

“S-Such a fucking mess,” he moans against your skin, trying to catch all of your secretion but it’s impossible with the way he keeps eating you - you’re flooding the seat, your inner thighs, and his smug little pale face. “Tastes so good. Can’t imagine how good you taste after a long game, fuck.”

You furrow your eyebrows embarrassingly at the the thought of what he was implying - your cunt all sweaty after soccer and he’d prefer that over this? You want to shudder in disgust but, picturing yourself hiked up on the wall with your soccer shorts discarded, a leg over his shoulder as Satoru ate you alive like this - works you up more than you figure you can even get at this point.

“S-Satoru,” you whimper, feeling the pool of heat twist up your insides as the familiar feeling of ejaculation creeps up on you.

You reach and grab his hat, digging your fingers into the leather, your legs clenching against his cheeks as you try to control the shaking that you know is to overcome you the second you orgasm.

“I know that sound,” Satoru purrs against your clit, “cum for me baby. Cum all over my tongue, like y’been wanting to for months.”

That’s all it takes. And god, Satoru does not show mercy as the wave starts at your clit and pushes all the way through your body, down to your curling toes in your boots and up to your nipples, which are still dancing free over the rim of your brazier.

The shakes come quickly, intensely, harsher than you’ve ever felt them before, as Satoru’s tongue rides out your high for you, not stopping until you’re just slightly twitching.

“Beautiful,” he hums, parting his mouth from you and sitting up in the backseat. “Satoru one, Y/N zero.”

You frown at his use of scoring, knowing it’s just to get under your skin.

“I’ll even out the score, fuck you,” you hiss.

“Please do, ponytail,” Satoru grins.

You find yourself pulling your legs back quickly, your thighs still a little weak and shaky as you sit up on your knees. You quickly unzip your boots and toss them somewhere in the front. Then, you grab Satoru by his ungodly black button-down and drag him to the middle of the seat.

He’s looking up at you in a mix of awe and smug, but you’re trying to pretend you don’t feel his eyes on you so that you may maintain your confidence.

You throw your right leg over his waist. Now, you’re straddling him, bare cunt over warm leather, dragging all of your juice and cream over his lap. He doesn’t seem to mind.

You fumble between your legs to unbutton his pants and then unzip them. He assists you when he raises his hips for a second, allowing you to get his pants down just enough that his bulge is pressing against you through his boxers.

He’s looking up at you with slanted eyelids, his pupils blown to black with the rim of ice-blue hardly visible. He’s clearly so tipsy, just off of the little bit you’d spit into his mouth, meanwhile your body is hot and your vision is getting blurry, nothing on your mind except getting his cock inside of you.

But oh, he deserves the teasing he’d given you. You use your hand to palm him, but simultaneously drag your hips over his lap, your sensitive cunt twitching as you do so.

His head falls back, his Adam’s apple thumping gloriously in his throat. His eyes flutter closed but only briefly.

“Fuck- shit,” he groans. “‘M sorry ‘bout the teasing, ‘kay? Want you to take advantage of me already. F-fuck, please-“

His begging is so delicious. If he thinks this is going to decrease the teasing you’re bestowing upon him, he has another thing coming.

Probably you.

“Oh?” you hum, giggling. “What’s that? Satoru begging now? How the tables have turned…”

He groans again, “S-Sick, innit? The way I want to be balls deep in that wet ass cunt. Don’t wanna wait anymore. You’ve kept me dangling for so long. Please-“

He whines. He actually whines, followed by a low whimper as he pokes out his bottom lip and lifts his head to look at you again.

A smart move on his part because you are absolutely hypnotized by his eyes, and before you know it, your hand is passing the elastic band on his black boxers. You find your hand running over bare skin - what a slut, he’d shaved. You gasp as you continue to slide your hand down to try and grab his tip - but it’s not there. It’s so far deep into his pants because he’s simply that large.

You scoot back on his lap a bit and finally whip his cock out, and it bounces a bit at its own sheer heft. There’s a pretty curve in it and thick veins swirling the sides, leading to a fat pink tip.

You realize you’ve been staring, but also slowly stroking it, admiring the fuck out of this perfect cock that you knew you would be thinking about for weeks.

“Like what you - hah - s-see?” he coos, closing one eye and glancing down at your hand sliding delicately over his length with his other.

“Mhmm,” you reply, “just imagining how good it’s gonna hurt. Your cock gonna make me cry, ‘Toru?”

“F-Fuck yeah,” he shudders, “gonna have you screaming, pretty. Loud as you want - no one can hear. Need you to milk this cock.”

“S-Shut up,” you groan, only because his words were driving you mad - and you would not last even another sixty seconds without his length penetrating your poor insides.

But, you suddenly remember the whip on your waist. Albeit made out of a cheap, rope-like material, the gears in your head start twisting like the delinquent that you are.

You catch Satoru’s wondering eye as he silently asks you why you aren’t bouncing on his cock yet - but you manage to ignore the expression as you thwip out the long black prop and quickly get it around Satoru’s neck before he can so much as gasp in surprise.

His eyes widen when he realizes you’ve made a leash out of your whip, tightening it at the base of his throat and coiling it around your wrist, bringing his face closer to you.

He’s so stunned that he remains silent, but his plump lips are parted in surprise, which you take as an opportunity to bite into the bottom one - harshly.

You suck on it as you lift your hips and your free hand finds the base of his cock - then you slide it between your folds very purposefully and agonizingly slow.

“Holy fuck,” Satoru whimpers against your mouth. “Y’doing me so dirty, Y/N, fucking ruining me. God…” he adds, “I’m so fucking obsessed with you.”

You gasp at the confession, and then at the feeling of his tip pushing into your dripping hole, as you drag your hips down to sink yourself onto him.

His eyes immediately roll back, and you let go of his lip, keeping your grip on the whip as your pussy adjusts to his size - feeling the drumming pulse coming from his veins tap your walls erotically.

You try not to clench, but as you suspected, it hurts so good - you’re trying not to focus on the pain. But he’s just so thick, so filling.

You whimper and in the same moment, feel a coil of fingers wrapping into your hair, curling it around his knuckles to keep you from moving your head.

“Ride this shit,” he growls, his eyes suddenly back open and completely aware. “Put those sexy ass hips to use.”

He grips one with his free hand for emphasis, tightening his grip on your hair, suddenly making you wish you’d opted for the ponytail tonight. You cry out at the mixes of searing pain and pleasure, as you’ve managed to take all of his cock inside of you - his tip kissing your cervix painfully. You decide now you can try to move, so you use your toes to push yourself back up, finding your pace.

“It’s too big,” you complain, albeit very fakely; your grip on the whip turning your knuckles white as it’s the only thing you can do to distract yourself.

Your other hand digs into his shoulder, and he hisses.

“Nuh-uh,” he coos, “you can take it, pretty. Deep breaths, know you can be a good cockwarmer f’me.”

Your breaths are coming out in short little pants. Slowly you’re adjusting to his size, and with you slicking up his cock it’s easy to start gliding sinfully up and down, up and down-

Satoru leans forward against your restraint and greedily takes your mouth onto his. He squeezes your hip harshly to get you to moan, then shoves his tongue hungrily inside your mouth. While his tongue works on harassing yours, his cock works on bruising your uterus. You’re bouncing quicker now, but he’s meeting you halfway with animalistic thrusts of his own.

Aside from heavy breathing, the squelching sound of your wet walls against his dick accompany the clapping of your ass against his groin. You start rotating your hips, bringing one forward before the other, creating a wave-like motion as you ride your slutty little half-horse into oblivion.

His eyebrows are furrowed, his eyes shut tight, his mouth only hanging onto yours by his teeth as he continues to whine into the air. You yourself have gone up a few octaves, your moans competing with his, making the atmosphere even more erotic.

“Oh, fuck,” Satoru moans, “s’tight. S’good. Such a perfect fucking pussy, fits right over me. This shit was designed just f’me. Fuck, wh-why you fuckin’ me like this?” He shudders under you, releasing your lip from his teeth and opening his eyes. “Y’must want my fuckin’ babies, all in your stomach.”

Your eyes roll back as you repeat a very sultry, “All in my stomach.”

So cockdrunk off him, if he wants to fill you to the brim you’ll let him. You’ll let him have his way with you however he wants, at this moment, if it meant he’d keep fucking up into you this good - if it meant you could have his cock more than just tonight. You’d never wanted to obey and be so good for someone before now.

“You are being so good,” Satoru purrs, which makes you realize you said the last sentence aloud. “My pretty ponytail. Taking me so well. I know it hurts, baby, but you got it. You can have all of my cock - anytime you want. I-I’m…” he had been speaking clearly, but a particular thrust had made him lose his footing, bringing back his tipsy voice, “I-I’m yours to use. To ruin.”

Your eyebrows furrow, you gasp at the velvety statement. You know he’s just drunk, you are too, but you’re so incredibly fucked. Despite his words, he’ll probably never even look at you again after this, and it pains you deeply. You can’t think about that now though, because heat is rising in your stomach.

“God, Satoru,” you mumble, “keep fucking talking. Keep talking so I can cum all over you. Please, please, f-fuck.”

“Ngh, need you to cum,” Satoru says. “Wanna feel the way you pulse when you cum. Bet you can squirt f’me too, huh? Know you’ve got it, so wet like that.”

You shake your head, your hand loosening the grip on the whip; you just don’t have the strength anymore.

You lean back, arching against him, and he takes the opportunity to pop your breast right into his mouth, gripping onto your nipple with his teeth before he sucks like a starving man.

“P-Please, God… mmph,” you drag out, eyes rolling as you can barely bring yourself to make noise with the overwhelming amount of pleasure you’re experiencing.

But you’re taken by surprise when his hand is suddenly coming away from your hair, and his arms wrap around you in a tight bear hug. Your hand has no choice but to fall from the whip as your own arms wrap behind his neck to steady yourself - and just as you think you’re about to regain balance, Satoru starts mercilessly slamming his hips up into your ass.

“SHIT!” you scream out, the loudest you have since being in the car.

Flap, flap, flap - as he absolutely destroys the inner workings of your slick pussy - determined to bruise your cervix and leave it swollen and aching for him.

“You. Are. Gonna. Cum. For. Me,” he grits, punctuating each word with a hard thrust.

You feel tears brimming your eyes; it’s just so good, hurts so bad, you can’t get enough.

You find yourself seeing and saying nothing but his name over and over for the few seconds right before your orgasm, and then your poor body is spasming on top of Satoru’s as he fucks you through your high - your insides clenching and twitching, and then a gush! as your body has decided that an inner orgasm isn’t enough. Satoru was right - you’re squirting all over him, his pants, and the backseat.

His eyes bug out as his eyebrows furrow, taking in the sight of the magnificent pool you’ve left on him.

“So fucking hot,” he moans, “can feel that shit pulsing on me. F-Fuck. My turn—“

This brings him over the edge right along with you. You’ve gone limp against him, leaning your entire torso on his as he maintains his hug on you and squirts his thick ropes of hot cum all into your uterus.

You cannot see anything except white stars in your vision as you’ve lost yourself in recovering from your orgasms, and he’s not bothering to slide himself out of you just yet.

“S-So addicting,” he sighs, leaning his head against your shoulder, his hat finally falling off behind him, revealing the fact that his hair is stuck to his sweat-covered forehead.

His cock is twitching inside of you, but you can’t think about that now. You’re trying to regain your sight as well as the ability to breathe.

You lay there against each other, still filled up. His grip has loosened on you, but his hands are delicately petting the skin between your shoulder blades, his arms not letting you go.

You’re now just trying to catch your breaths, bodies pressed together in a lustful bliss as you come down off of your highs, soberness creeping up on you.

“Was better than my fantasies,” Satoru says softly, his hands still gently roaming the skin on your back.

“Mine too,” you giggle in response, the pants slowly becoming normal breaths again.

Satoru gently tugs on your hair to bring your face back level with his, and looks up at you, as innocent as can be.

“Y’know what this means, right?” he questions, squirming a bit underneath you just to remind you that his cock remains inside of you. “You’re never gonna be able to get rid of me. M’gonna need access to this pussy, at least once a week. If not more…” he tapers off before adding, “Only, of course, if you’re up for it.”

“Absolutely!” you squeak out a little too fast, to which Satoru gives you a charming crooked smile and leans forward to peck you on the lips.

“Well then,” he hums, “don’t think we can go back in the party with our cum all over us. Can I offer you a ride home, ponytail?”

You blink down at him. His gentlemanly nature from the party has returned, truly taking you aback, because of the way he was just muttering filth a moment ago.

You took him up on his offer though, legs shaking as you crawled to the front and got your skirt and boots back on. He’d had to exit the car and get back in, his long legs prohibiting him from just crawling to the front.

You can tell he’s sober now, he better have been, otherwise he wasn’t driving you anywhere. But you knew he was when his hand gently rested on the thigh he had abused the entire time, rubbing soft circles to soothe the red handprints he’d left.

You sigh, knowing you’re completely fucked. Hooking up with him was a step in the right direction, but who was to say he’d ever want to be anything more than this? Lots of things to think about, but right now, you just relaxed under his touch as he drove you back to your dorm.

And when you saw him again, it would be at your scrimmage a week later. You’d already filled your girls in on everything, down to the nasty details they’d begged to hear. That’s why they shoved you off the bleachers the minute it appeared that Satoru’s team was done practicing.

Satoru arrived in the hallway right on cue, and you hit him with your customary bump of the shoulder.

“There you are, ponytail,” he mutters, glancing around before gently pulling you into a maintenance closet. “Thought you’d bailed on me.” He presses a fat kiss to your forehead, making your heart flutter. “Been thinking about you all week, need to take some stress out on that pretty pussy.”

You squeak quietly, running your fingers through his hair, missing the way he looked in his Stetson but being able to appreciate his practice attire just the same. His hands find the band of your jersey shorts and begin tugging them down.

“Wouldn’t have missed this for the world,” you coo quietly, your back hitting the wall. “How d’you wanna do this?”

“Well, I certainly enjoyed you on top last time,” he purrs, “but - hah - sometimes, even the cowboys need a break from riding.”

I. AM. SO. FERAL FOR JOCKEY/COWBOY GOJO WTFFF

And he’s such a gentleman STOPP <33

ok this was the most fun thing ive ever written. that’s all bye.

~ pennjammin

#jjk #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #gojo x reader #jjk fanart #cowboy gojo #gojo satoru #jjk satoru #jjk gojo #jjk x you #jjk fanfic #jujutsu gojo #jujutsu sorcerer #fanfic #smut

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ja3hwa · 3 months ago

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♡ 𝐄𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐲 𝐁𝐢𝐫𝐝 𝐆𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐦 || 𝐉.𝐘𝐇 ♡

【Synopsis】 : You need to start your day, but your cute, sleepy boyfriend can't seem to keep his hands to himself.

『Word count』 : 1.65k

-> Genre: Pwp. Smut.

Pairing: Boyfriend!Yunho x Girlfriend!Reader

[Warnings] : Lazy sex. Unprotected sex. Coming inside (dont do that). fingering. Dirty talk. Swearing. Dominance play kinda?

Note: This is dedicated to my sweeties @yunhoszn @bro-atz and @skteezcursed ♡♡ I hope you all enjoy this little piece of filth. And special thanks to Bro for the prompt. "Are you wearing my shirt? That's hot."

Also, thank you, @gococogo , for helping me with the title.

Networks: @atzhouse @wonderlandnet @illusionnet @cromernet

Masterlist | Navigation

In simple terms, you were in a rush. You managed to escape Yunho’s deathly grip before quickly throwing on anything you could find. Yunho wasn’t a deep sleeper per se, but you were thanking the gods he was most likely too tired from practice yesterday to hear all the unnecessarily loud noises the draws make. Or the way the bathroom door creaks. And your little swears as you look around for your belt.

You had promised your friends you’d go shopping with them for this event you all had planned to go to. But what you didn’t expect was them suddenly texting you, saying they want to go out so goddamn early. While you looked through the top drawer of your dresser for a cute pair of socks to match your outfit you heard a shift followed by a light groan… fuck, You thought.

“Are you wearing my shirt?” No, hello or morning. Your hunk of a boyfriend decided to send shivers down your spine as his unnaturally deep groan caught your ears. His eyes were hooded, still half asleep. His hair was sticking up in random directions making him look goofy in the best way. And that voice… “That’s hot.”

“What?!” You responded suddenly, shaking your thoughts aside.

“You. Look. Hot. In. My. Shirt.” Yunho punctuated every word as he sat up, eyeing your figure. He always looked hot but when you paired his clothing in the mix, fuck he couldn’t help himself. “Come here.”

“Yun. I’m going to be late.” You sputtered, turning back around to grab a random pair of socks, no longer caring if they matched.

“I said come here.” If by some cynical miracle, his voice dropped, making you freeze. Slowly, you closed the dresser before turning around. He was leaning against the headboard, his bare chest on full display. His hair had flattened a bit from him, running his fingers through it. He managed to look dishevelled and put together at the same time. The smile on his face grew once your eyes met his, and then he tapped his thigh. You shamefully walked over, like a mouse willingly entering the lion's den. His hand reached for you as soon as you got to the edge of the bed, tugging you harshly until you were perched on top of him. “There…Wasn’t that so hard.”

“I really need to go, Yun. I can't be la-” Yunho shut you up quickly with his lips, the force of his hand on the back of your neck holding you still. Your eyes couldn’t help but flutter close while your hands gripped the ends of his soft locks. His hands pulled and tugged on your shirt, untucking it from your pants before his fingers started to pop your buttons. “Yunho, I r-rea…” He swallowed your words, “..ly need to go.”

He finally let go of your neck, letting you pull away to breathe. But his attack didn’t falter. His mouth latched onto your neck, lazily suckling a bright purple mark on the left side. A perfect little imprint to show off what belongs to him. Your hands falter slightly, failing to hold onto him any longer, it was like your body was shutting down at the mere sensation of Yunho. You could almost forget about the day your friends had planned. You could almost just let Yunho have his way with you… almost. “Yunho I need to go and if you don’t stop biting my neck there will be problems…”

“Oh, will there be?” Yunho didn’t seem to care much about your empty threat cause he knew for a fact you meant none of it. One of your favourite things to do is nap with him, so you passing this opportunity up would be very unlike you. “Come on darling. Take off your clothes.”

Even when Yunho was sleeping he still was always dripping with confidence. You bit your lip, slipping the belt through its loops, before throwing it across the room. You hopped off the bed briefly to discard your pants, all the while Yunho laid back down, taking in a big sigh as he got comfortable once again. He was relaxed, tired even. But something about you wearing his shirt was still leaving him with an insatiable thirst. A thirst he needs you to satisfy. Your hands reach for the hem of the said shirt but Yunho quickly stops you. “Do not take that off.”

The grunt between the words causes you to let out a shaky breath, crawling back onto the bed until you are on top of him. Caging him. “You are so annoying.” You huffed gifting him a small peck.

He smiled, “You love it.”

“Oh, I do…” You kissed him again, grinding your hips slowly against his covered crotch. He growled through his nose, his hands gripping your ass harshly, helping you find a steady rhythm. Yunho couldn’t explain it but it was as if his body was turned up to a thousand. Every touch, every sly hump from your hips. Your nails lightly scratched down his naked chest. Everything was unbelievably sensitive. Was it because he was exhausted from yesterday and still in a dream state? Or was it you? Had his body finally given up and now you had all the control. He couldn’t tell anything apart anymore.

“I need you doll…” He moaned into your mouth. Now it was your turn to smirk. Your hands that rested on his chest, mindlessly moving their way down until they landed on his bulge. He was completely hard beneath his boxers.

“You want to fuck me, pretty boy?” You whispered in his ear before kissing along his jaw. He tilted his head, his eyes rolled back feeling you tug on his boxers until his cock was just free enough for you to grab. “You better come with me to this shopping trip when we’re done.”

“Oh, I’ll come…” He lazily smirks, making you blush lightly. You sat up seeing a puppy-like gaze in his eyes. Devoted, needy. So much for dominance, you thought. You slide your panties to the side, feeling your slick had already wet the fabric. His eyes never left yours as you slid a finger inside your aching pussy.

“Yun…” You whimpered, slowly preparing yourself for him, grinding steadily on your finger. The heat from your cunt, pooled against Yunho’s cock, as he watched you with knitted brows as you rubbed yourself against him. You were so close yet so far away from him, he needed to be inside you. Now.

“You better sit on my fucking cock right now before I bust from this sight.” He tipped his head against the pillow below him. His cock twitched as the tip caught your folds, feeling the slick coak his shaft. He couldn't help but let out a moan higher than normal, feeling all sense of proper function leave his brain. “Please, doll. I’m dying here.”

“Hmm. alright.” You chuckled, sitting up to line his cock to your entrance before sinking down completely taking every inch in one go. You hiccuped a whimper, slightly knowing you were going to definitely regret not prepping as much later but for now, you basked in the ache. The slight pain of being stretched by your boyfriend's girth. “Y..Yuyu..”

“Fuck you feel like heaven, baby. So fucking t-tight.” Yunho cried, his hands suddenly gripping tight on your hips, his nails leaving crescent moon shapes that will certainly bruise by the evening. You stable yourself with his shoulders, bouncing quickly on him. Your eyes had fluttered closed, basking in the feeling of your boyfriend's huge cock deep inside you.

“Yunho, You’re so big, fuck nhg,.” You whined, your arms shaking as they struggled to keep your body weight up. Yunho hazily opened his eyes to see the pure bliss mixing with concentration on your face. He could see you were struggling to keep the rhythm and his snug thought was whether to help you or not. Maybe I should let her struggle a bit, brat deserves it. He’d chuckled to himself but ultimately decided to help you, bringing his legs up, he planted his feet tight against his thighs, tipping you over so your top half would rest against his chest. Caging him.

“You hold princess.” He grunts in your ear before jackhammering up into your soaked cunt. You could hear all the squelching and dripping from the slick leaking from your abused hole. You were so close, you just needed a little more, a little push. Your hand snaked down between yours and Yunho’s body, finding your clit quickly. Yunho grinned smugly as he felt your hand press tightly against your nub. Your fingers circled in time with Yun’s thrusts, making you come with a loud scream of his name. Yunho finished quickly after feeling you clamped tight around him.

His thrusts lazily came to a full stop, but he didn't leave the warmth of your cunt as he rolled you to the side. Yunho’s arms wrapped tightly around your waist as he nuzzles his head against your chest, hearing the way your heart rate slowed. You felt exhausted, softly raking your fingers through Yunho’s sweaty hair. There was a calming silence, one you and Yunho always managed to find yourself in. comfort, loving, contentment. “Five minutes… Then we’ll go. Okay.”You huffed out a yes to his questions, but you knew very well five minutes was actually going to be five hours and you were going to have to explain and apologise to your friends.

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itsswritten · 21 days ago

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Cauldron-born | Part 2

Pairing: Azriel x fem reader

Word count: 4.1K

Summary: When an unexplainable energy pulls the Inner Circle to barge into the Day court, they're all shocked at what they find. But it's Azriel who can't help wonder if his dreams have finally been answered.

Part 1

A cackle pierced through you as Cressida looked upon you with a devilish glint.

“You believe you are a witch?” Her tone caught you off guard. Her patronisation questioning everything you had ever held to be true. Surely you were? It was the only thing that made some sense. Your brows furrowed tightly as you regarded the woman who had offered you shelter and refuge over the past few years.

Her laughing died down, her beautiful skin perfect by the ruins and spells she’d used for centuries, not displaying a single crease visible upon her flesh.

“Oh child what an easy life this would have been if we were more akin.”

You sat upright with a jolt, the murmuring of a dream— a memory whispering at the corners of your mind. Your heart swelling with the familiarity of someone you missed, despite her disposition, her cruel tone, that mean glint in her eye— you missed her. But as you felt the plush sheets beneath your body you knew you were no longer in the witches cottage at the corners of The Middle.

You had left that plagued land a while ago now.

A soft rap roused you from your thinking. The usual wake up call must have been the noise to stir you from your slumber in the first place, a familiar rumble of a tone behind the oak doors.

“Come in,” you replied softly. Your feet swinging off the side of the bed, as you walked towards the large curtain that hung from the high ceilings to the dark obsidian floor beneath your feet.

It should have been cool to the touch under your toes, but the house had a magical way of ensuring your comfort— always.

You heard the bedroom door swing open, your back to the welcomed guest as your fingers dropped from the luxe curtain fabric you had just pulled, inviting the warmth of the morning sun into your rooms.

“Blessed be my morning star, did you sleep well?” A deep sing-song tone bellowed into the room, a playfulness dancing on his words.

You cringed under the greeting, choosing not to turn to show your disdain at his choice of greeting and nickname. The sun was only just rising, sending splintered beams of light across your bedroom floor and walls.

“Helion, must you greet me in such a way?” He could practically hear the way you rolled your eyes and cringed at his words. You hadn’t turned to him yet, your gaze settling on the tops of the city below that the curtains had just revealed.

The view from your bedroom had changed more frequently in recent years. No longer the welcomed view of your childhood— the farm fields you grew up in, the misty fog that covered the northern part of the continent that you had always found comfort in.

No longer the harsh winding forest, dark trees that looked more like creatures that lurked outside the witches cottage— Cressida’s home— if you could even call it a home. Her den, rooted in The Middle.

No longer the glistening golden rooftops of Day, the sparkling white walls that danced the sunlight off the buildings in a way that made the whole court shimmer.

Instead, the panes of glass showed three mountainous peaks, dusted with snow in the distance and a city below— Velaris, the city of starlight.

Or the city of slumber. You were not well acquainted with the routines of the Night court residents. Them usually rousing from sleep well later into the day. However it did make your mornings quieter.

The auras of people settled in sleep, their noise, their colours dimming as you watched the kaleidoscope of energy dance lazily along to rooftops. It would be beautiful, if it wasn’t so loud.

You winced slightly at the sight, the lights and colours nudging on your mind. Poking and prodding a little harder than they had yesterday. It had been several days since Helion’s spell. A string of wryds to help contain your ability— dim it down, to subdue it, make it more bearable— but the spell was wearing thin.

Ever since that night—that fateful night where you almost left this world— your ability had been at a loss. Something that had always been as easy as breathing, as easy as a crisp night breeze filling your lungs, was now overwhelming and terrifying. If it wasn’t for Helion and his spell cleaving you're not even sure you’d still be here, in fact you’re certain it would have consumed you.

As beautiful as the auras of the world were, if you couldn’t control it— it would be the death of you.

“How are you feeling?” You had finally turned to Helion now, his question lingering in the air.

How were you feeling?

You could see, feel, taste Helion’s energy in front of you. A golden glow, so fitting for the High Lord of Day. It beamed within him like an orb of sunlight. You couldn’t touch it though, not like you used to, not like when you were a child and you used the naively play with creatures auras like a toy. Not like how Cressida had taught you to toy with people’s auras which was far from play.

That sense of control had broken, leaving jagged scars across your body to match.

Your hands, almost subconsciously went to touch the rugged scar that ran from your shoulder down to your torso. It tingled under your thoughts, but you pulled your hand back. Not allowing another moment to be wasted on what had happened and the marks it had left on you.

That was why you needed Helion and his spells. He had a way of dimming it with his own power, making it easier for you to navigate your day-to-day without being utterly consumed by the noise and colours of everyone else.

“I feel okay actually,” you had responded, your eyes moving up to the lines on your friends face. He smiled softly at you.

“This is the longest you’ve been without us having to spell cleave, but today—“

“Today could be a noisy day,” you finished his sentence, understanding what he was implying.

Tody, you were to begin training with the Valkyries.

“Those priestesses are already a bundle of emotions when they pass you, I think resealing the spell would be wise. Amren agrees.”

Well then, it wasn’t really up for debate.

You cocked a brow at Helion before moving towards the table in your room. That was now adorned with breakfast, courtesy of the house of course. Helion folded his arms across his broad chest. He still wore the colours of Day, white and pristine, glittered in gold jewellery along his wrists, earrings bejewelled with sunlight themselves. Grand and beautiful, just like him. However he looked so out of place against the dark background of the Night interior. As ornate as the House of Wind was, Helion didn’t fit.

No, he belonged among his own court, but the High Lord of day had left his court to accompany you. That in itself was such a large display of loyalty. You swallowed your guilt as you sat at the table, spreading butter across the warm toast and taking a bite.

“But of course the decision is always yours to make y/n,” Helion spoke, his tone as warm as the butter melting upon your breakfast.

They only wanted what was best for you, you knew that. Reminded yourself in moments like these. But you couldn’t help the feelings that slipped up to the surface. Since you’d come to the Fae courts and discovered who you were—what you were. Every piece of guidance came with a weight you felt like you couldn’t refuse.

You were the Mother’s daughter— Blessed be— you had status, respect, power— to do as you please, but that came with a responsibility that felt too heavy to bear. Every decision you made had to be considered, because it didn’t only affect you but the entire world and the peoples and creatures within it.

That meant, even if you wanted to try and push another day without the spell. See how far you could go as the spell thinned, you couldn’t risk it. As it wasn’t only you who it would endanger, but every living thing.

When Helion had found you— a shattered version of yourself— he’d spent the time piecing you back together. Perhaps out of duty to begin with, but somewhere along that journey a genuine friendship grew. However that would never negate from who you were, and what you were born to do— what your life’s duty was to be, and what he, what Amren, whatever everyone else on this island needed to do ensure you accomplished it.

“Let’s reseal the spell,” you muttered before taking another chomp of your toast, a softer look on your eyes this time. “…after breakfast.”

Helion smiled warmly, joining you at the table as he had done now every morning since he saved you.

The simmering of the fresh spell lingered on your skin, Helion’s magic coursing an invisible shield around you. The spell acting as a filter to the aura you were always so sensitive to.

The early days of his spells were always the nicest, at least they were nowadays. After building your tolerance back up with Helion, the first week of his spell usually lasted with minimal discomfort. He always had to be near though, his rooms were only down the hall to yours.

Sometimes your tolerance was less, or someone or some creature’s aura louder than usual that you needed him to reseal. It was why for the past year he’d essentially been attached to you at the hip, like a doting father or brother. And then there was Amren— doting wasn’t the word you would use. But she was always there too now. Out of duty of course, the way she’d collapsed down to her knees in your first encounter revealed how strongly her loyalty would lie to you.

Or lie to what you stood for.

Amren, the ancient one knew what your existence meant. Felt it in her bones, remembered the murmurings of stories and prophecies she listened to back in her own adolescent years. She knew what was coming, and knew how important it was that the Mother’s daughter had her ability under control.

So here you were, stood before Helion and Amren like a girl on her first day of school. Helion tightened one of the straps on the leathers you had been told to wear. He couldn’t attend the training class, only approved males were sanctioned so he would stay the floor below. In a waiting room. A handful of books already tucked under his arm.

“Stop fussing over the girl,” Amren snapped, her expression as hard as it always was. Despite her being utterly devoted to you and your protection, that dedication did not come with a slither of a smile.

You may have found her scary, if she didn’t remind you so much of someone you missed.

Helion gave you a knowing look before playfully winking at you. His large hands coming to squeeze your shoulders.

“How do you feel?” He asked, ignoring Amren at his side.

“The world is quiet once more,” you replied in a slightly chipper tone that garnered a smile from Helion.

He tapped the top of your head, “If we need to reseal, or something triggers it you leave right away, okay?”

You nodded in response along with a hum in agreement. This training was supposed to do the opposite of just that, however there were concerns. After the inner circle had barged their way into the Day Court a month ago, after Helion revealed who you were— a lot had changed.

Your belongings— which wasn’t very many— were packed up, along with you and Helion as you were practically shipped to the Night Court. You realised when you arrived how this had always been Helion’s intention. Why he’d taken the time to tell you the names of the Night Courts inner circle all those months ago. It was because they held significance in your journey.

The Night Court was safer, Velaris having an ancient spell that had protected it for so long. Amren was to teach you, she had knowledge that even Helion’s libraries didn’t share. There was Rhys too, with his mind and magic who was a crucial part to play in you regaining control of your power.

And now there were the Valkyries, who you were to train with.

You leaned against the railing of the rooftop, your eyes dancing upon the still sleeping city. It was quieter now, thanks to Helion. No noise and colours probing into your mind.

It was peaceful, and yet so lonely. When you had full control of your ability, back when it felt like an extension of you. You could slip in and out of it with ease, danced with it, sung with it. Now, it felt like a headache that could only be dulled with Helion’s magic.

“It is the mind-stilling which is a priority in your training. I believe it could be key to you regaining control over your abilities. You will train with the Valkyrie’s everyday until you master it.” Amren spoke. You didn’t turn to look at her, your eyes still gazing onto the cityscape below. Your mind wandering to what the people below were up to, what they may have been dreaming of. Thinking back to a time when your life was much simpler, when the most daunting part of your week was whether one of the village boys would fancy you.

You stopped yourself there. Stopped yourself from indulging and reminiscing in the past. The continent was so far away now, as was that version of you.

“What if it doesn’t work?” You turned to Amren, concern evident in your tone. The sun kissing your face as your brows furrowed.

She was sat in the shade, back against the cool stone wall of the house, “It has to.”

A silence settled between you both. Amren was right, this had to work because Mother be damned if it didn’t.

Nesta cringed as she watched the priestesses fuss. She had told them to be on their best behaviour, but in the presence of a living deity the females couldn’t help themselves.

They blushed and whispered, giggled and muttered words of prayer, some even curtseying as soon as they stepped onto the rooftop. Rollings of ‘Blessed be’ harmonised from their tongues and even Gwyn’s eyes widened in the presence of you. The female looked ready to burst with excitement.

There was something about your presence that was otherworldly, not just in your beauty but in the way you moved among the earth spoke of grace. Nesta couldn’t believe her eyes when she had found out you’d grown up on the continent on a farm and then The Middle— with a witch! And yet there was a regality that existed within you that couldn’t be taught, it had just always been, you had been born with it, cauldron-born to be exact.

You stood in front of them all, your own embarrassment from the fuss evident in your averting gaze. Gently— with delicate grace— you bowed your head towards the priestesses, responding appropriately with a whispering “Blessed be,” which only seemed to elicit more noise from the females. Enough noise that it took you a beat to notice the gust of wind that blew across your face as a shadow blocked out the sun for a moment. With a thud two large Illyrian males landed in the middle of the rooftop balcony.

Helion’s spell had been working fine till now, not a whisper or a simmering of aura— till you saw him.

Felt him, scented him.

In a flurry of steps you found your back pressed against the railing on the rooftop. The very presence of someone causing your feet to stumble back, hands clutching the railing tightly in a blur of a moment. He was here. The very male you often found yourself dreaming of when your mind wasn’t caught in the past.

Azriel.

Amren had launched from her place, she had been watching you so closely that even just a tremor of difference she would notice. But it wasn’t just Amren who had stepped towards you, the Shadowsinger himself had taken several large strides since landing as if he’d also always been watching.

“Do I need to get Helion?” Amren asked with an urgency in her tone.

Your breaths were shallow, your gaze falling to your feet as you tried to focus. You had been caught off guard, in the silence of spell you hadn’t expected any noise at all. You hadn’t been affected by the lively group of priestesses, Nesta’s silver aura hadn’t been licking at your mind or even the thousands of people in the city below hadn’t affected you.

But him. He had triggered something, somehow.

Azriel looked upon you with a concern that felt heavy. Hesitant as he stood only a step behind Amren.

Had he startled you? When him and Cassian had landed? Azriel couldn’t deny he had rushed to this training session, after spending the month on a mission. Rhys had sent word that you were to begin training, and the swell in Azriel’s chest was enough to have Cassian trying to keep up to the Spymaster on their entire flight home.

Azriel’s eyes wandered over you, his shadows whispering their own concerns. They had noticed your nerves, just as he had noticed them during his first encounter with you. It was his job to notice the little things, his duty as spymaster to notice the things others couldn’t, but even he couldn’t explain why he felt so attuned to you.

The morning breeze gently blew across your face, pulling the pieces of hair that were loose from your braid. You had calmed yourself, calmed yourself enough to raise your head to the audience on the rooftop. He could see you now, fully, for the first time in a month, and Azriel forgot how to breathe.

Divine.

He thought it was his shadows that whispered it, but maybe it was his own thoughts too. You were the most beautiful creature he’d ever laid his eyes on— angelic and saintly.

Divine was the only word for it.

Divine, divine, divine. His shadows sang.

“No, I am fine,” you finally replied to Amren. She looked at you sceptically, a look in her face that told you if you were lying then there would be hell to pay. You repeated yourself though, stepping away from the railing you had pressed yourself against.

You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him, not yet. Not after what he had just triggered, that tightness in your chest was new and overwhelming to say the least. It was different though, to the way auras usually felt that left you with confusion and questions to why the Shadowsinger felt, smelt, tasted so different to everyone else.

You were grateful for the male beside him who decided to speak. “Sorry we probably startled you, just dropping from the sky like that— we tend to do that sometimes.” It was Cassian who had spoken, a warmness in his tone that reminded you of Helion. There was a twinkle in his eye of light-heartedness that seemed to dissipate the unease that had settled among the group.

You offered him a soft smile that only seemed to spur him on. His tone bellowing as he outstretched his arms in introduction, “I’m Cassian, and this is—“

“Azriel,” you finished his sentence for him. Not being able to stop yourself from saying his name out loud. Not being able to stop yourself from finally looking at him.

“Right, Azriel. You’ve already met,” Cassian replied, a look in his eye as he glanced between his brother and you.

It wasn’t fair. Wasn’t fair how much lovelier he was than in your dreams— which you didn’t think could be possible. The handsome lines of his tanned face, the dark hair that fell in loose curls and those large wings that were tucked behind his back. Your eyes dragged across him, finally landing on his own gaze. How it brought you back to that first moment you met him—how he had trapped you in his gaze back in the courtyard of Day.

“And I’m Gwyn,” the words had practically burst from the red-headed female. Her deciding now was clearly the right time to introduce herself, not that you minded. In fact if she hadn’t you may have just stared at the Shadowsinger all day, “…and I think I can speak on behalf of us all, but it is truly an honour that you wish to train with us.”

There were some murmurings from the priestesses then, as if in agreement and even Cassian tipped his head in bow towards you.

There it was again, that weight you held. Crushing and terrifying, they put you an a pedestal, showered you with adoration you weren’t too sure you deserved. With subtle strain you forced a gentle smile onto your lips.

“The honour is all mine Gwyn,” and you meant it. The people on this balcony had earned that praise more than you ever had.

“She just said my name,” Gwyn whispered in disbelief to her friends, her cheeks going rosy at the recognition. Nesta simply rolled their eyes, Emery teasingly nudged Gwyn with her elbow.

But it was a sentiment Azriel was still stuck on too. You had said his name, knew his name— knew him. His name on your lips was like a song, a melody you serenaded him with. His shadows had felt it too, your recognition of their master causing a stir that had them wanting to reach out—which they would have if Azriel didn’t have them on such a tight leash. Azriel only tore his gaze from you when Amren spoke up.

“Enough about honour and names,” Amren snapped, her eyes not landing on you but the the two males who had just arrived. They understand her stare, her tone, the waft of her had as she strode back to her spot in the shade.

“Right let’s start ladies, find a space and we’ll begin with stretches,” Cassian commanded, his tone authoritative that had the females moving into motion. Even Azriel snapped himself from his thoughts, collecting himself as he stalked towards one side of the balcony.

You followed suit, following the motion of the other females and finding yourself in amongst the group to begin. You noticed though how Nesta had come to your left, Emery flanking your right, and Gwyn directly behind you. As if creating their own shield. Perhaps a statement to the swooning priestesses— regardless, you were appreciative.

Stretching began, and you copied Cassian’s movements in front of you. In sync with the other females around you. Moving your muscles in a way you hadn’t for a while, stretching the aches you didn’t know were there. Cassian stood in front of the group, bellowing whenever the stretch would change.

The movement was welcome though. You’d always had an active life. Growing up on a farm, tending to the crops and harvests had been your way. You weren’t new to the ache of a hard days work. Then you’d spent your time in The Middle, with Cressida who had an unrelenting method of training you.

“I’ve heard you’re not a novice?” Nesta asked you as the group was split in two. One side had been pulled to practice mind-stilling, the other, your group, had been given wooden staffs to practice more physical exercises.

You took the staff in your hand, curling your fingers around the rod. Nesta wasn’t referencing your past though. She was asking about your time in Day, you hummed in response with a nod. “I trained with Helion’s sentries for a few months,” it helped…for a while. Your progress had soon dropped off though, plateaued, which was why you were here. To see if the Valkyrie way of training would help in any way.

Nesta nodded in response, before tapping your staff twice with hers. “Show me then,” she moved into a defensive stance and your brow quirked.

It was a challenge, she had been the only one who had dared, the only person to treat you with some semblance or normalcy— and it made you smile.

a/n: well here is part 2, I’m sorry this has quite literally taken months to get this instalment live, so I really appreciate any of you who might still be around to read this! I do think this has the potential to be a slightly bigger series than I first anticipated, but I guess that’s my fault for giving our mc the coolest back story ever 😅 anyway enjoy my loves 🤍 - Lottie xx

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yandere-wishes · 5 months ago

Text

⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡Acolyte⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆

𐙚Yandere! Qimir/The Master x Reader

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Plot: Your loneliness is suffocating, engulfing. Qimir is the only one who seems to subdue the pain. But every forbidden fruit has its price.

⁀➷Warnings: Yandere behavior, gore, angst (at the end), author having an anxiety attack over this fic

🪐Note: Why is the longest thing I've ever written for a fandom that barely exists? Anyway, here's the long-awaited Qimir piece!

⁺₊𝄞₊⁺ : Disturbia - Rihanna, Dark Vacay & Motion Picture Soundtrack - CAS

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆🍓⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺

Your master's anger is tangible. You harbour it stubbornly on your tongue. Relishing in the frustration. You aren't sure how many times you've cut out your soul to place at a master's feet. Gnawing on perfect lips to keep quiet during another scolding. Your new master's disappointment reverberates through the room. Thick and oozing like an infected wound.

You messed up again.

"We do not injure other padawans during training. We do not lash out and attack, especially when your training partner has fallen. How have you trained for so long without comprehending these basics?"

The rage that boils inside you is not Jedi in nature. It's something else, a bizarre second, something ancient, ghoulish. An all-consuming fire that burns inside your veins. It shouldn't feel so welcoming, so familiar.

You roll your eyes.

"With all due respect master. How is one to win, if they do not strick when given the opportunity? That too should be a basic notion, no?"

You see the anger snake across your master's face. A defeated, disgruntled, glance that you've become a bit too acquainted with. This is the look that all your previous masters give you. And yet none have yet to master its eeriness quite as well as your first master. Master Sol.

Your master sighs, a piercing noise, deflating every ounce of his willpower. You are exhausting to be around, his annoyance is becoming discernible. "Master Sol is coming by the temple to check your...progress. He's requested a few items to take back with him. Please go fetch them from the apothecary."

Progress is a gentle word and Jedi love using gentle words. It's easier to say than the full truth. Sugar-coated things always taste better.

But the sugar refuses to stick to you.

It burns away in your bitterness.

Coruscant is a distant memory, it was never your home to begin with. But the high bustling volume is something that is hard to forget. Here things are quiet, you slip through the bazaar undetected. Small basket clutched tightly. You wonder what's dragging your former master halfway across the galaxy. You wonder if it's really just to see you.

You gaze blankly at the holographic list. A few rare herbs and some medical roots. This planet grows them in abundance, and the local apothecary carries more than its fair share.

The apothecary is an old, disheveled thing. The older Jedi say that its presence is as old as the temple itself. Odd how some things have a will of iron. You gently rap at the worn metal door, waiting for an invitation to enter. The hinges cry as the door opens ever so slightly. You squeeze in, surveying the cluttered den. Careful to avoid the half-empty bottles and neon puddles scattered across the floor.

"Excuse me" your voice holds an urgent annoyance. Where is the pharmacist? What kind of store owner abandons their shop in the midday? You run your fingers across the strange bottles, letting your nails pick at the murky glass. The colors flash, begging to be freed, strange space pinks, and summer oranges all trapped inside square prisons. Baby poisons dying to taste the world, burning it if they must, but experiencing it nonetheless, tasting their own form of freedom. Funny, they almost remind you of yourself.

Trapped and fatal.

"Hello?", the voice behind you is languid, dozy. Mirroring a late afternoon nap. When the man next speaks you notice a lyrical lint "What brings you here little lady?". You turn to see it, the voice, or rather the man harboring the voice. He's loosely robed and shaggy in the way that only the most spirited vagabonds are. He smiles tenderly upon seeing your face, strange red fruit caught between his teeth. "I um...I" you click your tongue anxiously against the roof of your mouth. Feeling around for those pesky words, in the end, you just shove the hologram holder forward, hoping he'll understand.

"Oh, I see, out here doing some chores?" You nod, mind preoccupied with the otherwordly fruit. "what's that?" you ask, schoolgirl curiosity lacing your voice. "What, this?" he asks holding the freckled thing between his fingers, it's only in the mild light that you notice the shimmering gold scattered across its red skin. The stranger laughs, walking closer, he places the hologram base on the black table, clicking it on as he studies the list. "They're called strawberries. They're from the forest planets, not many grow here in the mid-rims." He's nimble as he packs the herbs and roots, fumbling with the straw ties. "care for a bite" he asks, handing you the bitten fruit.

Hesitantly you bite.

Letting the sweetness erupt on your tongue.

"Thank you" you mumble trying not to moan at the foreign taste. The stranger laughs, it's a cheery noise like birds chirping in first bloom tress. "you're a Jedi, aren't you?" he asks stepping around the table, eyebrows furrowed, caught in a dream he doesn't seem to understand. You choke on the rogue static as he steps closer, eyes half-lidded dreaming of nothing. "Here..."

"Wha-" your voice catches in your throat, it's getting harder to breathe.

"Your supplies" He hands you the brown paper bag, motion a little too phlegmatic to be right.

"Oh, right...thanks" You anxiously shove the bag into your basket and scurry out of the shop. Holding your breath.

"Come back soon." the voice chirps behind you.

Your old master arrives by spaceship, a newer, albeit worn model. The landing pad ejects to reveal a small escort.

Master,

Knight,

Padwan,

Apostate,

You stand still watching as they descend. Bits of envy bubble in your throat watching your former master and his band of little heroes. You wish you had their belonging. Forgoing the loneliness to find kinsmanship with your coterie. You swallow down the bitter thoughts as they finally approach you.

Master Sol's smile reaches his eyes. Gentle and wise. The true epidemy of a Jedi in every sense of the word. Funny how he now has two failures under his belt. None of which are capable of scratching his shining repute.

His hands are on your shoulders, bright smile. "My padawan, it's been too long." You try to bow, awkwardly and stiffly. "Mater Sol, I'm grateful you've come to asses my progress". If he hears your doubt he doesn't show it. Instead, he reintroduces you to Yord, Jacki, Osha.

You try to be polite. Gulp down the awkwardness

You imagine the taste of strawberries on your tongue.

Remember their stiff sweetness and prickly tasteless freckles.

You smile. Easier this time.

They'll stay here for some time. Hunting assassins and documenting progress in their free time. Jacki seems more invested in your training than you are, trying to teach you everything she knows. At least she doesn't mind the rough play, the violent strikes, and sloppy prideful defenses. She speaks in pointers and parries. She's the one to drag you along these assassin hunts. Welcoming you...or at least trying to.

But there is something else at play. Darker, broader, Sol and Jecki welcome you into the fray. Yet you still feel your old master's hesitance, he's still wary of you. Worried about your anger, your defiance.

The distance grows, some icy void.

Sol used to tell you fairytales. This was back when you'd been young and bright-eyed. Freshly welcomed into the order and still overflowing with artless hope for a colorful future.

But even back then, he had known there was something wrong with you.

Looking back it was evident.

Every story started and ended the same. Little princess against the big bad world. Holding out until her prince came along. Only problem was the morals never registered right in your little messed-up brain.

Why didn't the princess fall for the dragon, the wolf, the tyrant king with a crown of bones? Why didn't she swoon and sigh over someone rousing, compelling? A paradox wrapped in black ember? Why settle for a sun-painted prince, with no complexities, no mysteries to unravel?

You would have married the dragon, or the wolf, or the tyrant king with a crown of bones.

Even back then, it was evident something was wrong.

The temple's roof isn't restricted per se.

It's rather abandoned as opposed to forbidden.

Maybe that's why you find solace here. The abandonment feels familiar, similar. The chipped cement kisses the soles of your feet, you imagine it's something like walking upon the rough terrain of a star.

You breathe in the night air deeply.

Expecting the fragile scents of moonshine and star glitter.

Instead, you choke on heavy mist and blood-drenched air.

The thing standing in front of you isn't human. It can't be human. It's created from the blackness, ebony in all the ways a living thing shouldn't be. For a second you think you're staring at a black hole. No doubt this creature crawled out of one.

What sheer willpower one must need to drag themselves out of endless nothingness?

"Little Jedi should not brave the night alone."

It speaks

"There are far too many monsters roaming in the dark"

Its face never moves, statue in all the ways the figures towering over the entrance aren't. This statue is something else, a lost page to some forgotten epic. Carved from gems born in darkness. Evil and rotten.

"What are you?" your voice susurrate, quivering in this surreal scene. The air is thicker now, overflowing with raw static.

Your fingers itch for your saber. Only when the cold metal kisses your palm do you regain some semblance of reality.

The hiss, the green light.

The figure chuckles.

Its voice bouncing from every direction. Everywhere all at once. When it speaks the air cackles, raining as if it were a frightened child.

"I am something akin to you, another child of the force" His voice comes out distorted, uneven in tone. "I am what's birthed when one learns of the true strength of the force."

Your body moves on its own, feet kicking the ground sprinting faster and faster before the final leap. You aim for the helmet, for the morbid toothy grin permanently etched within steel. In a flash the word stills, floating around you like fluorescent bubbles, the rain tumbles around you, curving and diving for the wet ground. It dares not land on something within his grasp.

You feel the slithering across your body. They start from the ground, summed from the unknown depths. Clinging firmly to your ankles before inching up your knees, your hips, your neck.

long, slipper tendrils curling around your body. The figure watches, bare arm outstretched. You should probably be focused on how the unseen things are inching closer to your mouth. Not on the toned muscles and limber fingers of the monster. Not on how, for a fraction of a heartbeat, his smile appears genuine, caring, aimed straight at you.

Only You

They finally reach your lips, prying your teeth ajar and flooding your mouth. Sinking deeper and deeper into your soul, your mind, you.

The smile grows.

In a blink you're suspended in the space between worlds, dark damning thing cradling your body.

"The dark side once belonged to the Jedi, yet they chose to discard it. Deeming it malignant, ungovernable."

Your weightlessness unnerves you. You're malleable in this void.

"Those few who embraced its calling were dubbed Sith." He says the word with such fervent pride. Devoted to it's weight and all it carries. You try to roll the word off your own tongue only for it to burn the roof of your mouth.

The stranger stalks closer, lethal and lithe.

The void vibrates, the darkness bends to his will.

He reaches down to cup your face. His fingers feel warm, welcoming. You nuzzle into his palm, fighting the urge to kiss each finger and suck on the dark force they emit. "You..." he starts, his voice shakes you to the core. Its horror amplifies with the proximity. You wonder if it'll cut through steel, armor, flesh.

your flesh.

"You aren't like the other temple dwellers. You have potential."

His thumb presses your lower lip, demanding entrancing. You comply, needing to feel something solid.

Something you've been denied your whole life.

"They keep you locked away. Trading you between craven masters. Seeing who can tame you first."

He nicks his thumb on your teeth,

Pressing bone into dentin.

His essence drips into you.

He tastes of power.

Of dark, dreadful things you can not name.

"They do not know how to train you. How to use your power..."

The world crumbles, ebony midnights giving way to reality. You feel yourself fall, plunging through the air like a comet bent on destruction.

"They only break you further"

Your knees collide with the harsh ground. Skin splintering in the aftermath giving way to bruises and bloodmarks.

The ground feels too solid beneath you.

A poly, a ruse.

You all but expect to melt through it. Slipping and falling into the vacuum, into him, once more.

He hovers above. Absolute in his strength. You're beginning to believe that blackholes birth divinity. Eyes shimmering with fanatic fidelity, staring up at the holy creature commanding the storm.

"Teach me..."

You've never begged for anything so terribly in your life.

But you need this.

this power

this control.

him.

Sol never told just how the princess met the villain.

He never said it wasn't love at first fright.

Sol insists that the local apothecary knows the truth behind the Jedi-killer. Definite that the unseemly man can tell you something important. He sends Osha inside to play Mea. To get the man to talk.

You crowd around the communicator urging back giggles. Yord's chin is placed upon your shoulder and Jecki's cheek rests against yours. Their touches come so early. And yet they are utterly alien.

"He will be so pleased." No sooner have the words chime from the corroded speakers that Sol is ushering you all towards the small metal hut.

Yord entwines his fingers with you as he runs.

Jacki wraps around your arm.

You feel at times they are trying to tame you.

Befriend the feral puppy they found in the backyard.

The apothecary's face is utterly stunned. He's stammering over his words fear glistening in his eyes as he stares at Sol. "Please, please don't wipe my memories. Or whatever it is you Jedi do." A rosy blush colors your cheeks, at his terror. It's terribly amusing seeing someone so carless, anxiously list off everything he knows. You almost feel bad for the poor scared man.

There isn't anything important here. But Sol decides that you will all return at midnight. The Jedi-killer will be back. Apparently, Qimir -that's his name, that the strawberry-eating, disheveled pharmacist's name- is holding something of value for her.

There's a tug on your wrist as you go to follow the others. Gentle and firm as he pulls you to his chest. "Come by tonight. I'll have some strawberries waiting for you." why does he feel too genuine? When you turn to look at him, he's painted in his usual sweet carefree smile that tugs at your heart.

He looks so innocent...

Starlight really brings out his eyes. He's laughing with a nervous smile,

School-boy crush on full display. You're licking strawberry juice from your hands as you listen to him talk. Backs pressed against the rusty wall and bodies half sprawled in the dirt. He's telling you about the first time the Hutts made him retrieve a plushie for their son from another solar system.

Qimir's voice feels like rose peddles melting into your skin. Sweet, jejeune, free. You offer him a berry from your pile. Watching tentatively as he submerges the red fruit into his mouth. Missing your fingers by an inch. He's laughing after the fact, head thrown back as if he's about to engulf the stars. You decide to laugh too.

"Are you really that lonely," he says in a voice that's almost not his own. You're not expecting the invasive question, although you guess he means well. The words still cut deep. Piercing through the laughter, stunning you for a breath too long. "No...I'm a Jedi, we do not-"

"Form personal connection. I know...But you just look so lonely." He shuffles closer, the dirt particles almost look celestial in this light. Your fingers pitch a civil war. Pinching and clawing at each other. "No, yes. I don't really get along with the others." He rolls his eyes, bored and amused in the same breath. "Yeah, no wonder your money." He's picking at another strawberry, letting the crunch fill up the silence. You're beginning to think he just likes having something to chew on. Gulping down the anxiety with something toothsome.

He's a little closer now, fingers gingerly tucking back your hair. His fingerprints reverberate across the shell of your ear. Lips gliding against yours. You swallow as his lips fall across yours, pushing sweet stars past parted lips. He tastes of odd things, whimsy things. Everything you'll never come to understand. Xeno fruits and asteroid fields. His fingers glide up your arms, leaving moondust in their wake. He slowly parts, holding you softly with his soulful dark eyes

"You taste so sweet"

Strawberry, Starberry, You kiss him a little too deeply.

Maybe your new master is right.

Maybe there are other ways of being a Jedi.

The movie playing is doused in shades of rose and lilac. Gentle in all the ways. Everyway. The twi'lek girl is in love with the zabrak boy and their families do not approve. You think you remember Sol telling you a similar tale.

The makeshift auditorium is cozy. Brown couch housing the three of you and your armada of blankets and popcorn buckets. Jacki's head is in your lap, you're playing with the end of her braid imagining the hair to be the lace of a Love-sick girl's ballgown. Yord's arm traverses the length of your arm, absentminded as he studies the motion picture, poking holes in the lose rose-tainted plot. Your head rests against his broad shoulder taking in his new cologne.

Maybe you really did miss them.

Jacki reaches for the popcorn, offering you some before shoving a handful into her mouth. You think the little symmetry-less kernels would taste better with a strawberry glaze. Qimir flashes across your mind, smiling sweetly as he tilts his head.

You think you're a little too similar to the star on screen.

Pinning after forbidden love,

Forbidden power.

Master Sol is growing acutely aware of your drastic improvements. He's noticed the betterment in your offense, your defense. To the way, you wield your saber, your techniques, and yourself. There is esteem in the way he smiles. In the words of praise, you've longed to hear. But you notice the lingering glances, the undertone of skepticism and worry when he asks about practice. He doesn't need to know of the black-glad creature that trains you in the unholy hours.

He doesn't need to know how beautifully your new master sculpts your rage into lessons. Teaching you how to wrangle the force and control it. How to use it to make the world bow.

These things will remain secret. For you fear Sol and the others will strip them of you. Strip them of the new master you've come to worship.

"Do you think people glow when they fall in love?" Jacki's voice is filled with sleep. Eyes closed as she murmurs remnants of movie memory. "No, I don't believe they do" you answer. "too...bad" There was a yawn there darling and vigorous like the rests of her. She looks so sweet like this, infantile in all the ways she can't be. Little girl dreaming of something impossible. You wonder if Sol's told her the fairytales too. You kiss the crown of her head, your baby sister you think. And big brother Yord, snoring with his head thrown back.

Maybe you should test her theory. rising softly from the couch you make your way to the door. Throwing one final glance at your sleeping siblings. Before going to find Qimir.

His lips ghost over yours, spilling star-clad secrets between each kiss. The apothecary has never been so dark, so secret, so secluded. Qimir's lips glided across your neck biting the flesh and licking the little diamond droplets of blood. Your nails rack across his spine, the wool of his throw-over itching the backs of your hands. "So precious" he mumbles, voice ridden with want, need. it's criminal how desperately he needs to feel you. You writhe under him, "Qimir, kiss." you whine. His lips feel like a lifeline, something keeping you sain. He pushes fireflies and lava pearls inside you, carving you open and enjoying you

He always enjoys you.

It's foggy outside when his tongue clashes against yours. A thick unsettling mist banging against the darkened window. "You're custom-made for me" Qimir mumbles against your lips. "Custome tailored" you boldly correct. "ummm, sure" his hands pinch at your hips, clawing mindlessly and leaving tails to your thighs. But the sensations are growing distant, you hear the heavy hum of saber activation. You psyche cracks

The world is dark,

He alone is absolute.

Your master's mask flashes dangerously across your mind. "Master Sol would be disappointed". You've heard that line a million times. Still, the words cut a little too deep coming from your demiurger. "Gullible" you don't understand, what have you done to earn his rage? He's gone, leaving you in the emptiness, you taste the charcoal from the landscape under your tongue.

Still, you long to call after him.

"Master"

The darkness subsides with the feeling of softness across your muscles. A breeze stirs you from the clutches of slumber. "Good morning" Qimir chirps, soft smile greeting you as you open your eyes. "Qimir, when did I?" he laughs, it's such a pretty sound this early in the morning. Sweet like caramel tea. He kisses your forehead. His quietude is commendable, he tries to calm you with feather-light kisses. You laugh pushing the covers away and still. Frozen.

What's this

The nightgown is lacy and short. It drapes expensively against your skin. Marring it with its tenderness. "Qimir, what's this!" he chuckles, "I couldn't let you sleep in those robes, they looked uncomfortable." You want to argue, to scream, and be angry. But the rage boils down slowly as you notice something dangling around your wrist. A bangle, and an anklet you notice later, black and gold entwined in patterns mirroring lighting stricks. "They're from Korriban, I had some relatives there." oh, why does that planet sound so familiar? "Thanks, but ask me next time before you go playing dress-up doll with my sleeping body" He pouts and can't help but trail a string of mouthy kisses across his neck. Qimir shuffles pulling you onto his lap. Pushing his nose under your chin. His eyes are honey-deo, adoring and scheming. "But you're mine." The possessive ness that flesh across his face is alarming. So is how tightly he grips your waist. It's only in this state of half-undressed that you begin to notice the taut muscles of his arms.

During your most recent lesson, your master gifts you a ripe juicy strawberry. He says it'll focus you, replenish your wither strength. You eat it a little too quickly, forgetting to savor the pink blush within. You believe too ferociously in everything your master says.

He can never be wrong.

You love the way your new master splatters blood across your sleeves. Be it yours or his enemies. He's started taking you out on his kills, having you watch as he hacks and mauls. His enemies must die, no one who doubts such marvels should be granted the privilege of life.

He's only ever spoken in half-riddles.

"Unfortunately legacy is a fickle thing. Tenacious, fervent, yet frail and erratic. No matter how hematological, we all read our bones differently."

The rain falls to your ragged heartbeat. Fast one minute and slow the next. You stick out your tongue desperate for a few drops. Your body is on fire, every muscle pushed to its limit. But the Force is screaming inside you, thumping dangerously between your fingers. You're ready for the next round. Saber ready and only half mesmerized as your master pulls out another blood-red saber. You charge, rage pumping deliciously through your body.

You forget to ask him where he got the berry from.

The next Jedi to die will be Kelnacca. That's why Sol is dragging all of you to the forest planet of Khofar. You think the name is utterly hilarious, the others don't understand the mirth.

Between briefings and Jacki and Yords packing quarrels. You sneak out to say goodbye to Qimir. Scribbling a half eligible not to leave for your master. But the apothecary is deserted upon your arrival, only a taped note on a half-full mortar.

'Gone to get more Strawberries.

Be back soon.'

You wonder if Khofar has strawberries.

Strawberry, Starberry, you're falling between the cracks of so many.

The Sun on Khofar is red, barely breaching the thick canopy. Maybe it's for the best. This scene is not one to remember, but how can you make yourself forget?

Death looms.

Permanent, Eternal

The fighting began in twilight.

The sky has grown two shades darker since.

He had floated in from the high reaches. You'd almost called out to him, 'master', the words die bitterly on your tongue. His saber ignites in the carnage, light growing redder after each kill. The bodies fall haphazardly stirring the quiet night.

Your saber falls onto the woodchip ground. No sound. He has followed you here. Yet it is not you, he seeks. Your master mask is haunting, in the dark the silver mouth glows bright white. Even against a massacre

the smile never relents.

He twirls the red saber with lethal accuracy, red arc severing another life. 'Take the right!' Jacki screams through the force, her eager voice bouncing inside your cranium. 'Don't' you scream but she's already attacked.

Saber sings saber.

Golden light flickers.

Forward. Backward. Lunge. Parry. Flunge.

Just like you practiced. Back in the quiet of the training room. Is it too late to return to the matted ground and wooden swords? Too late for safe comfort?

You won't take it for granted this time you swear.

Your master attacks with vicious zeal, cutting through the light. His black robes bleeding into the night. Jacki, scurries backward, trying to block with every ounce of strength. In one swift move, she spins freeing herself and assaulting his head with the metal of her weapon.

The mask clutters to the ground.

You scream.

He looks every bit the villain here. Blood drenched, water drenched. Smiling like the wolf in a child's picture book. Qimir's face stares back at you, hair matted to his forehead. He's panting, spent. You've never seen him toil. Dreaming him incapable of harm.

Yet he stands above the corpses. Wolf's teeth bared as he slices through the little girl.

It's been years since Master Sol tucked you into bed. Years since he's read you a story and listened to your baseless questions about romances.

You've finally gotten your answer. Painted in a shade of red indistinguishable from black.

Because the villain is too vile to be loved.

You run, catching the limp corpse before it joins the rest, you cradle her close. Tears landing on the orange of her face. There are no strawberry romances here. No sweet forbidden fruits. Just pain, hollow, empty, rotten. "Jacki" your voice muffles into her robes, rain-soaked, tear-soaked.

"Was that its name?" his voice doesn't sound right. No cheerful hellos or drowsy laughs. It's all menacing now, grating and hollow lilt. "Qimir" you wail, sob half caught in your throat. "It can't be you." He shakes his head, smile crooked and maniacal. "I'm afraid so, little one." The force pushed you up, pulling you to him. Qimirs head tilts, his fingers dancing around your throat. Squeezing squeezing squzing. Your glossy eyes take in his unruly appearance. Even now your master looks utterly perfect. Muscles relaxed as he steals your breath. "Master" you whine, your heart shouldn't be hammering like this, leaping through beats like something lovesick.

"(Y/n)" golden light fills the clearing. Yord runs, Prince Charming in every way you should have loved.

Qimir releases you, only to nestle your neck in the crook of his arm. "Don't worry darling. I'm almost done." He blocks the first attack.

Second, third. Yord scrambles to pull you away, missing each time. "Let her go" The urgency in his voice rattles you. He did love you.

Little sister, little princess.

Why is only starting to make sense now?

There's a crack, so loud it echoes across the woods.

"NO"

Yord's body joins the rest.

no no no

"Where were we?" Qimir is every bit the villain.

The dragon, the wolf, the tyrant king with a crown of bones.

"You lied to me, you killed them. Why, why would you do this."

"Because the Jedi say I can not exist." Sith, right those things were supposed to be evil. Hailing from Koriiban, the evil Jedi forced to flee. And here you were having so readily given yourself to the enemy.

The blood flows free in the rain. Dozens of bodies drained.

There's a river of blood. You kneel by the holy thing, dipping your cupped hands into the crimson. You drink deeply from the massacre thinking it'll taste sweet. Qimir pulls you in holding your throat as he submerges you.

Baptized in blood

The world flashes red.

It feels so free here. Floating weightless, letting everything be. The rage can not find you in these depths. Free like an adrift astromech. Free to float amongst the stars.

When you emerge again. The world has grown brighter. You see the wide-eyed bodies, even Sol is among the dead, you swear you see disappointment in his lifeless orbs. You gulp, swallowing the euphoric faint. You see your new master before you. Swimming to him carefully, following the gentle tug of the force. Prey meets predator. Qimir chuckles, the water is shallow by the banks. He sits awaiting, on his makeshift throne.

There is no sympathy here you should know better

"You took adorable" Qimir rasps. Hot breath fanning your ear. "Master Qimir" you mumble shifting as he pulls you onto his lap. He laughs this is submission, a breath away from grasping his desire. He cups your cheeks, drifting his hands to your shoulders. Pulling you closer, bodies melting into one.

His kisses still taste like strawberries. Sweet and metallic. All possession and domination. Biting lips and tongue and flesh. Spilling fresh poison with each snip of your neck. He licks the blood from your fingers with feral pleasure. Swirling his tongue around each digit and pulling it further down his hungry mouth. You swallow the darkness from his tongue, letting him snuff out the little embers of light. The stars are burning away bit by bit. He pushes you under again.

Mornings on Khofar are dark, caught in a perpetual twilight. Qimir wraps his robes around you letting the midnight sink into your bones. "The ships a bit of a walk. But we should be there before noon." You paddle after him. Fingers lashing awkwardly at his hand. He turns and offers you that tilted smile once more, mask bouncing in his free hand.

"Master qimir" you confess, it feels so light on your tongue. Like clutching dying white-dwarf-stars behind your teeth. He chuckles, snapping a berry from a nearby bush. His smile sings of triumph, victory, earned in blood. He places the fruit amongst your teeth. You, his little war prize.

"My little acolyte"

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ursynes · 1 year ago

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#noise from the den #poll #tumblr has polls now! sweet!!!

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sophie-looks-at-stuff · 5 months ago

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A Wolf in the Dragon's Den

Pairing: Aemond x Stark reader

Summary: The Greens have won The Dance of Dragons, and your family has offered your hand to Prince Aemond as a means of forgiveness for your part in the war. But what shall happen when a wolf meets a dragon in its den?

Warnings: SMUT, mdni 18+, p in v, kind of mean Aemond? but he gets better lol, Aegon being Aegon, use of pet names like Little Wolf or My Dragon, fingering, soft to rough sex, uhhh language for sure haha if I missed anything let me know y'all!! It's also not proof read so forgive any mistakes haha

AN: Well ... sorry this took me so long y'all! I guess my summer classes caught up to me a bit but that's ok cause after long last here it is!! A good old-fashioned Aemond x Stark reader fic. I hope you guys enjoy haha, I'm working on a request next, but let me know if there's anything else y'all wanna see! :)

King’s Landing was a hot, humid, fish-smelling shit hole. The warm temperatures were much too hot for your usual furs, heavy cloaks, and skirts. Even your horses were succumbing to the heat, panting more than usual, the poor things. You could have rode in the carriage, along with your mother and younger siblings. But you preferred horseback, the wind in your hair, and the breeze on your skin. Although, the air here was salty and thick.

Your father and brother, Cregan, rode beside you. “Hells, could it be any hotter,” your father murmured under his breath, sweat beading on his brow.

“Those vapid Targaryen’s couldn’t bear it any other way, something about the ‘dragon’s blood–”

“Careful brother, they could have your head for that–” You chuckled a bit, but you all knew there was truth to the statement. The Dance of Dragons had proved as much, the Greens' force and display of violence was wide and plentiful. “Rash and brash” as your father had put it once. Especially that of your betrothed, Prince Aemond One-eye Targaryen. Or “the one-eyed cunt” as many northerners took to calling him. The betrothal, much to your dismay, had been arranged by your father, in a weak attempt to repair your house's relationship with the monarch.

“Hmph, well if I had my way we wouldn’t even be here at all. Those ‘dragons’ wouldn’t survive a damn minute in the North. Their blood would freeze, and then maybe we’d all be rid of their problems.” Cregan said the word “dragons” with a mocking tone, a scoff in his voice.

“That’s enough, your sister is right boy, they would have your head for that. Or perhaps feed you to one of their dragon’s” And with that, your father put an end to that potentially treasonous conversation. Cregan however, had muttered something under his breath about “told you to stop calling me boy”.

Having had enough of the bickering, you tapped the sides of your horse, trotting ahead by several paces. Your dire wolf, Snowcap, had evidently decided to part temporarily from the group, to hunt or to shade herself you didn’t know. But you couldn’t blame her either way, the journey from the Winterfell to King’s Landing was a long one, and not a particularly comfortable one.

The gates to the Red Keep came into site ahead of you, the streets leading up to it peppered with Gold Cloaks and guards. The people of King’s Landing pay little mind to your small party, too busy with their buying and selling. You had chosen to travel light, there were no copious amounts of banners flying, or any regalia at all really. You would be surrounded by plenty of that kind of thing soon enough.

To say that your greeting was lackluster, would be an understatement. Ser Criston Cole stood beside the Dowager Queen Alicent atop the Red Keep’s stairs. Besides another dozen or so Gold Cloaks, that was what there was. Cregan scoffs in annoyance from beside you, he must have caught up to you somewhere along the way.

“He cannot even come to meet his bride-to-be, what a disrespect, pathetic,” You made a bit of a noise beside him, urging him to keep his mouth shut. You were in the dragon’s den now, who knows who could be listening in? Another glance around the unfamiliar faces does confirm your brother’s statement. Your betrothed was nowhere to be found. Even the training yard remained empty, and from what you’d heard, Prince Aemond could often be found there.

As you dismount your horse, Queen Alicent begins to make her way down the steps, towards you and the rest of your family. Your father and eldest brother move to stand to your left and right. Your mother and younger siblings finally join you, to your left. Your mother gives you a warm smile and a pat on the shoulder as she moves to stand beside your father. You curtsey as the Queen approaches, she takes your hand in hers. Her palms are soft and warm, gentleness radiates from her person.

“My Lady Stark, how nice it is to finally see you arrive. I hope the journey south wasn’t too unpleasant” She gives you a small smile, not as lovely as your mother’s, but kind nonetheless.

“It was alright, long, very long, but alright,” You say, matching her smile. Queen Alicent releases your hand and carries on to greet the rest of your family, Ser Criston following closely behind her. Still no sign of your betrothed, nor his elder brother, the King. Although you supposed he must be occupied with his duties on the Small Council. You know you will hear an earful from your brother later on the matter. Had Creagn been born a Lady, he would indeed circulate most of the gossip around Court.

— — — — —

The Red Keep was massive in comparison to your expectations of its size. The halls appear more like an intricate intertwining of mazes rather than passageways. Your footsteps echo and reverberate off of the stones. Tapestries depicting great moments in Targaryen history line the walls. Lit torches line the halls, the windows, and the arches looking out onto bustling the city below. Servants, guards, and other nobles wondered about, gossiping, rushing to and fro. Ladies, lords, and servants alike whispered to one another as you and your family walked by, being led by Ser Cristin and the Queen.

It was no secret that your brother had sent Northeners and Graybeards to fight in Rhaenyra’s name. “Fight like Northerners they will,” your brother had said once. And they did indeed, the bitter cold and long winters having hardened them into mighty soldiers and fighters. Barbarians, some called them. Your father had handed over the duties of Winterfell to Cregan as he grew older. Your father had hardly left the North in all his years of life, but he had become confused and temperamental in his older age. It had ultimately been Cregan’s choice to join the Blacks, a decision he is now trying to repair. Or it would be more accurate to say you were trying to repair. Since you were a wolf being offered up to the dragons for slaughter. Perhaps the only reason that the Greens hadn’t burned down Winterfell, and your family around with it, is because they know the importance of your family to Westeros. And if the North falls, we all fall, and no one knew the North better than the Starks.

As you continue on your walk through the winding halls of the Red Keep, you finally come to stand before a set of doors. Modest in comparison to some of the others you’ve passed by. Metal filigree winds its way up from the handles like vines, the rest of the door was rather lackluster. Ser Cristin steps forward, dutifully opening the doors for your party.

There in the middle of the small council room, stood your betrothed. After long last you finally laid eyes on your betrothed. Aemond stood proud and tall, his long silver hair pulled back into one thick braid, tied together at the bottom with a strip of black leather. His back was turned towards you, hands clasped behind him. He was dressed in what appeared to be his riding gear, perhaps he had just come back from a flight with Vhagar.

“Aemond, there you are. You missed the arrival of your betrothed,” Alicent chided her son, who could not be less interested in the conversation at hand.

“Mhm,” He hummed, “I was–” He paused thinking, “ –busy”. From beside you, you can hear Cregan scoff a bit. Your mother puts a warning hand against his back, he was never one for formalities. But then again, most Northerners weren’t. The Prince finally turned towards your party. The famous leather eye patch covering the sapphire in his socket. The faint pink lines of his scar peeked out on either end of the patch. He’s beautiful, you think, in a macabre sort of way, but beautiful nonetheless. He looked ethereal standing there, backlight from the evening sun shining through the windows.

His lavender eye rakes itself over your form, as your mother pushes you forward a bit, to better meet his gaze. He lets out another hum, of approval, or disapproval, you cannot tell. A cord of annoyance strikes through you, not having the wherewithal to be subjected to such petty scrutiny.

Alicent places a guiding hand on your waist, walking you forward, closer to the One-eyed Prince. You curtsey once you reach him, the lessons your mother taught you as a girl kicking in and taking over.

“I did not know you Northerners were capable of such manners,” Aemond scoffed as he said this as if he was telling a bad joke. Your teeth grind together, hands clenching into fists in your skirts. Behind you you can hear the scuffle of footsteps, and then a halt. Presumably, your brother acting out again, or perhaps your father this time. Typically, your family wouldn’t care much about appearances, but you were all treading on thin ice, and you knew it.

Rising back up to your full height, which annoyingly still made you have to look up at him, you say: “We are rather steeped in our traditions in the North my Prince. We value honor decency, and the truth of one's word,” You glare at him through your lashes as you say this last bit. If it were not for the threat upon your entire house and bannermen then you would not be here, wolves were not creatures made to bow, even in the face of a dragon.

Surprisingly, Aemond lets out a hardy laugh. You chance a glance over at his mother, she looks to be just as stunned as the rest of you. Silence befalls the room.

“Smart mouth you have, huh, my Lady Stark?” He chuckles some more, then leans closer, intending his next words to only be for you. “Watch your tongue in my court, or I shall have it served to you on a platter at our wedding feast,” and with that, he straightens, and walks away. Yelling something over his shoulder about the training yard, and Ser Cole come with.

“I–” Alicent begins to say, but you cut her off, rather impolitely, “ It’s quite alright Your Grace,” You offer her a smile. You liked Alicent, the poor woman had been through enough as it is, and the arrogance of her son wasn’t any help. “I am just pleased to finally have arrived here at court, and to settle in at my new home,” It was most certainly a half-truth, but there was no need to make tensions rise any higher.

— — — — —

The following next few days were spent quite the same. Your little party with the guidance of Alicent took tours of the Red Keep as well as its many gardens and docks. One afternoon Alicent and Queen Helaena accompanied your mother and yourself down to one of the traveling markets of King’s Landing. It was rather grand, merchants coming from all across Westeros to sell their wares. Helaena had shown you a favorite merchant of hers, a man who made intricate gold and silver jewelry in the shapes of little bugs and small creatures. You had purchased a ring depicting the head of a dire wolf.

Aemond had remained illusive, he only graced everyone with his presence at meals. Choosing to sit far away from you, his brother, the King, talking about who knows what was next to him, but all the while his lavender eye remained fixed on you. It made you squirm a bit, being under his heavy gaze. Overthinking how you raised your fork to your lips, or where you held your cup of wine, on the stem or the rim as you’d always done.

With your wedding on the morrow, your nerves became more frayed than usual. Your mind is plagued with silly thoughts like: Will he think I’m pretty? Will he learn to love me? But as soon as those thoughts enter they are replaced with others such as: Why should I care? He’s been nothing but unpleasant and rude. But the younger, little girl in you still hopes to have a fruitful marriage, one filled with respect and love. Much like that of your mother and father’s. Although you know now that that is an anomaly in this world.

Your night is filled with restless sleep. Your body follows a pattern of waking for an hour and then sleeping for another. The heat of King’s Landing did not aid in this, the covers bunched down by your feet as you tossed and turned. Shortly after the sun had risen, maids had burst into your room, wedding gown in hand. You spent the next couple of hours being dotted upon like the princess you were about to become.

It wasn’t a large service by any means, not that you minded. Something smaller and more intimate was more to your liking. Your father walked you up the long aisle to meet your soon-to-be husband. Aemond stood at the altar in the sept, his house cloak in his hands to drape around your shoulders. The closer you got to him the more you could see his eye attempt to devour your appearance. Surprisingly, he gently held your small hands in his. His fingers and palms were calloused from many hours of training with a sword, and flights upon Vhagar. He was a handsome man you thought, too bad his arrogance made him ugly. Perhaps a bit naively you thought, I can change that. But maybe it was just wishful thinking. Your mind already trying to fix something potentially broken.

Aemond’s lips touched yours, forever sealing your vows to one another. Unlike his hands, they were smooth and soft, and uncharacteristically gentle. He was a good kisser you think, but then again the only other boy you’d kissed was a farm hand back at Winterfell when you were much younger.

Aemond thought you were beautiful, the moment he laid eyes upon his Little Wolf he thought perhaps this union will not be one of suffering and strife. At least she will be pretty to fuck. As his lips touched yours in the sept in front of the Gods, he tasted honey and black tea. You smell like vanilla, spices, and what Aemond assumed fire to smell like. His hand came to fist in your hair, possessively anchoring you to him.

When you part you suck in a breath of air, cheeks red. Such a sultry kiss in front of your family and the Gods caused a rush of embarrassment to course through you. Aemond however, gave you a wicked smirk in response to the color in your cheeks. Still clutching your hand tightly in his, he guides his new bride down and out of the sept, to return to the Red Keep for the evening's festivities.

— — — — —

The great hall was filled with the aroma of cooked meats, potatoes, wine, and the heavy laughter of your party guests. Your mother and father sat with you and your new family at the head table, looking down slightly upon the rest of the partygoers. Where the ceremony may have been smaller, the feast after it was not. Several more houses and bannermen of your brother’s came to celebrate the historic union. Boltons, Lannisters, Freys, Greyjoys, Hightowers, and the like filled the hall. You chose to remain seated beside your new husband, the ever-dutiful wife. You knew and had seen many times how rowdy Northmen could become at such a venue. You preferred to keep your distance, although it was not unusual to find you dancing with your younger siblings back home at Winterfell.

By the looks of it, your brother had loosened up a bit, a tanker of ale clutched in one hand.

The king had joined him and the others closer in age for what looked to be some kind of drinking game. Meanwhile, Aemond’s hand absent-mindedly made its home on your thigh, stroking up and down. The gesture was a stark contrast to his previous words and actions.

“You have barely eaten wife,” He noted as he glanced at you, “You must be well full and ready for what I have planned for you.” The same small smirk crosses his lips once again. Leaving you with a funny feeling in your stomach. But you can’t help the small wave of heat that strikes your core. Your mother once told you that men can become rather possessive of their women, and it can be quite cumbersome most of the time. Restricting one's freedom, constantly wanting you in their presence, she had said to expect this with someone like Aemond. But she mentioned that sometimes, in the confines of your marital chambers, it can be very — riveting to lay with such a man. It wasn’t until now that you began to understand what she had meant.

“I am afraid I have no appetite, my lord husband. My nerves do not allow me to eat it seems,” Aemond’s gaze darkened at the use of the word “husband”. Prince Aemond was not a man who did anything halfway, if he were to do anything, it was to be done fully without exception. A wave of dark possession seeps into his gut. He had already claimed a dragon but now he wishes to claim a wolf too.

From across the hall, his thoughts are abruptly interrupted by his brother's drunken yelling.

“ – the bedding ceremony! Come now little brother it is time for the bedding ceremony,” Aemond’s fists clenched, the hand on your skirts bunching in the fabric. “Will you fuck her like a hound brother? Woof Woof hahaha,” The hall had fallen eerily silent. Aemond’s chair clatters to the ground from the force of his standing. From beside Aegon, you see your brother place his cup of ale on the table, hand reaching for his sword. Your father is already a step ahead of him, hand on the hilt of his dagger. Your mother goes to stand in front of your younger siblings, shielding them. If you had no appetite before you certainly don’t have one now, your hands had gone cold and clammy, your head feeling light at the insults thrown your way. From beside you, Alicent stands, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder.

“That is enough Aegon,” She begins to say.

“Oh come now Mother it was only a jest. Can I not be proud of my little brother?” Alicent opens her mouth to respond but Aemond beats her to it.

“You can take your ‘jests’ down to your whores on the Steer of Silk but you will not speak in such a way in front of my wife, let alone her family.” His voice is dangerously calm, ready to snap, and bubble over into pure rage at any given moment.

“Always so uptight little brother, as if someone has shoved a stick up your ass–” It is your turn to stand now, the feet of your chair scrapping the stone floor beneath you.

“I am quite tired, husband will you escort me back to our chambers?” You look at Aemond, a stern, silent plea evident on your features.

“Certainly wife,” He responds with the same tantalizing calmness. Offering you his hand, which you take, grasping on tighter than perhaps necessary, you both make your way out of the great hall. Leaving the mess that is Aegon behind for someone else to clean up. It was your wedding day after all and you needn’t worry yourself with such matters.

The walk to your marital chambers is quiet and tense. Your hand still firmly grasping Aemond’s, although he now squeezes yours back. The heels of your shoes echo off of the palace walls in an attempt to keep up with Aemond’s long strides. After an eternity of uncertainty at what was to come next, you reach Aemond’s, and now your, chambers. The room is large and furnished quite cozily. A large four-poster bed makes its home in the center back wall of the room. A table of what looks like chess pieces and a map sits by the open windows.

Aemond however reaches for the pitcher of wine on another small side table, pouring a cup for himself and downing it in one go. He pours a second, and a third for you. He offers it to you, you shake your head, afraid you cannot stomach the drink after what had just happened.

“I am sorry–” You break the silence. Aemond raises a hand to silence you.

“It is I who should apologize. My brother is a foul and evil creature who feeds off of the discomfort of others. But never had he dared to do so so boldly before,” He pauses, taking a sip of wine. “I have been absent since you arrived at the Keep and I believe I owe you an explanation,”

You cross your arms over your chest, the air coming in from the harbor seeming chilly now. “Yes I do believe you do,” you say.

Aemond quirks an eyebrow at your sass, a small smile spreading across his lips. “They told me women of the North have sharp tongues and poor manners,” You scoff, his smile widens, “but I must say I’m rather enjoying that thus far.” He moves toward you, one hand still holding his cup of wine, the other reaching up to cup your chin, turning your face to meet his eye.

“I must admit that when I learned that your treacherous brother’s offered your hand to me I was quite – unnerved. I had no desire to marry, let alone marry a traitor,” A cord of anger courses through you, and Aemond notices this. He sets his cup down on the table next to you, the one with the chess pieces. Your eyes follow the movement, better taking in the contents of the table, a war game perhaps, you think.

“I didn’t want to be chained to a dull, meek little pup for the rest of my life,” His now free hand comes to rest on your hip, and his thumb and forefinger move from your chin, to trace the shape of your lips, then your jaw, and down the column of your neck. “But I must say, that you have certainly exceeded my expectations. I shall enjoy breeding you,” His alkaline nose moves to smell your hair, and you inhale a sharp gasp at the vulgarity of his words. You feel him smile into your neck as he continues his ministrations, placing the whisper of a kiss here and there.

“I do not understand you. You show me kindness, even apologizing for the acts of your brother, but then you insult me and my heritage. What is it that you want from me, Prince Aemond Targaryen?” You question him, hoping your voice comes out as steady as you command it. Aemond pulls back laughing, both hands now finding purchase on your hips, he begins to guide you backward towards the bed. The backs of your knees hit the wooden frame.

“Perhaps I wish to see how far I can push you Little Wolf. I enjoy your banter and wish to hear more of it. It pleases me that I’ve been matched to a woman who is not afraid to speak to me in such a way. People so quickly cower and whisper when I am near, it is refreshing to be met head-on.” His blunt statement surprises you, you had not expected such a confession from the Prince.

“Perhaps–” You pause, choosing your next words carefully, “ – perhaps then we can learn to love one another in this marriage.” You almost whisper the last bit, uncertainty in your voice.

“Yes, I think perhaps we can,” Aemond whispers back to you, his lips brushing yours as he speaks. The tension in the air is palpable, maybe he was waiting for you to make the first move. To see how far he could push you as he had said a moment ago. Deciding to test this hypothesis you stand on your tiptoes, slotting your lips against his, just as you did in the sept. A hungry growl leaves Aemond’s throat using his grip on your waist to pull you flush against his chest. He kisses you back with ferocity.

A hand grapes your throat, guiding you down towards the bed, your back hitting the feather mattress. You gasp against Aemond’s lips, swallowing the sound, he continues his assault. His hand against your throat tightened, although not unpleasantly, heat rushing to your core. His lips begin to retrace their path down your jaw and the column of your neck, biting and sucking red marks in their wake.

“Aemond– someone will see–” He parts from you only for a second, looking into your eyes.

“Let them, after all, isn’t that what my imputant brother wanted proof of our coupling? Perhaps it will give him something to pleasure himself to–” The thought makes Aemond’s cock harden impossibly more in his trousers. The fact that he could pleasure his wife to a level that his brother could only imagine, was nearly enough to drive him over the edge.

“Husband that is not reason enough to leave –” You're interrupted by a particularly sharp bite to the collarbone. A moan of pain and pleasure escapes past your lips, spurring your new husband onwards. With a sharp tug, Aemond pulls the bodice of your dress down, exposing your chest to him. He murmurs a simple “beautiful” under his breath before latching onto one of your nipples, sucking and nibbling at the flesh. Your back arches slightly in response, desperate to bring yourself closer to his touch.

As he continues his ministrations he begins to unlace the remainders of your gown, shimmying them down your body, to pool at his feet. You feel his calloused hands roam up and down your body. Sketching your shape into his memory. His fingers knead the flesh of your breasts, your thighs, your ass. Finally, he swipes his fingers between your folds, you emit a soft whine at the contact.

He raises an eyebrow, “I’ve barely even touched you yet Little Wolf, and you're already soaking my fingers. I can’t wait to feel you around my cock–” He trails off, mesmerized as he begins to pump two fingers in and out of your core. Your cheeks flush a deep scarlet at his words. Your hands find purchase in the sheets of your new bed.

“Oh– oh Aemond –” You whisper in between breaths.

“Say it again, say my name again,” It’s almost a plea, begging to hear it again.

“Husband– Aemond– My Dragon –” Aemond harshly withdraws his fingers from you. You nearly scream at the loss of the delicious contact. Discarding the remainder of his clothes, tossing them haphazardly to the side, Aemond grabs you by the ankles pulling you down towards the end of the bed where he stands. You catch site of his cock as he gives it a few tugs in preparation. The tip angry and red, glazed in his arousal for you. Your eyes widen a bit, your mother never prepared you for what might happen should your lord husband be too – big.

Aemond sees your moment of concern, he positions himself over you, cock aligned at your entrance. His hand carresses your cheek, as he says “I shall be gentle, if you ask me to.Give you time to adjust –”

“No,” Your answer surprises the both of you. “I want you, I am not some small flower, I can take what you give me. I want whatever you shall give me Husband.” You lean up to kiss the tip of his nose, as if to reassure him that what you say is true.

“Seven fucking Hells, you are something did you know that?” He rests his forehead agaisnt yours, as he ever so slowly begins to sheath himself inside of you.

You let out a small giggle, whispering back “I know–”

Aemond bottoms out inside of you, his cock fully enclosed by the walls of your cunt. He could die like this, he thinks. Cock sheathed in the cunt of his gorgeous Little Wolf. Your walls squeeze him perfectly, he needs to take a moment to catch his breath. He had fucked women before, whores in the Street of Silk. His brother having dragged him there once, and to seek some kind of perverted comfort there during The Dance. But none of them compared to this moment, none of them –

“Husband, Gods move please,” Aemond is brought out of his thoughts by your pleas, you voice hoarse with want and need.

“With pleasure Little Wolf.” He begins to thrust, moving his hips at a slow and steady pace. It’s for his own sake as much as it is yours. He’s afraid that should he move to fast he won’t be able to carry on for very long. Beneath him your hands clutch the sheets of his bed, your cheeks are flushed the most lovely red, your hair played out in a halo around you on the pillow. If he could burn the image into his mind forever, then he certainly would.

Aemond’s cock stretches you out perfectly, boardering on pain and pleasure, but only for the first moments. His thrusts are steady and calculated, but never the less delicious. The movement causes friction on your clit, sending a wave of pleasure to your core. It’s lovely, you think, but you want more. Moving from their place in the sheets, your hands settle on his hips, urging him to move faster.

“Aemond– more,” His lilac eye flits up to your face, asking for silent reassurance that that is indeed what you want. “For Gods sake Husband, move faster please I–” Not needing to be told twice, Aemond picks up speed. Where his thrusts were slow and sensual, now they are fast and hard. He fucks you like a man starved, as if he was told this is the last woman he will ever lay with. Which in his case, was true, since you were married after all.

Your tits bounce at the force of his movement, your hands that were previously on his hips, begin to rake down his back. Your legs come up to circle his waist, drawing him impossibly closer.

“You like this then, huh, Little Wolf. Treated like my own personal whore, to fuck how I please?” The sounds that fill the room are egregious, skin against skin, moans, whimpers, and screams.

“Louder Little Wolf, howl for me, let the whole Keep hear how I pleasure you so,” Perhaps that same small part of him wanted his brother to hear. As if Aemond had something to prove to him, that he made a better husband, a better lover than Aegon ever will.

“Aemond, Aemond, oh Aemond–” You chant his name like a mantra. His cock hits that sweet spot inside of you, you gasp eyes widening at the feeling.

“Seems I’ve found where you feel pleasure best. Is that right Little Wolf?”

“Yes, Gods Aemond, if you don’t stop, I’m gonna –” Hearing that was all the motivation he needed to pick up his pace even more. To fuck you even harder than before. He grips your hips pulling you closer to him at the end of the bed, from this angle he has full control over your body, and can fuck you as you so desire him to.

The force of his thrusts, and the friction against your clit cause you to see stars behind your eyes. With one last scream of his name, you cum around his cock. Your walls pulling him in, attempting to root him to you. Aemond however, does not let up, chasing afer his own release.

“Just a moment more, my sweet, perfect Little Wolf. I’m going to breed you, and watch you swell with my pups. Wouldn’t you love that huh?” Aemond continues to piston in and out of you, the feeling almost too much, but still just as lovely as before. Nonsensical moans leave your lips, and Aemond laughs at you babbling, although not rudely.

His hips begin to stutter as he nears his end, his heavy balls slapping against your cunt. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” He mutters under his breath as you feel his seed coat your walls. The feeling warm, and full and lovely. Aemond remains seated inside of you as he rests his forehead once more to yours. You kiss his nose again, a new favorite spor perhaps. He offers you a small smile in return.

You both groan as he pulls out. Your cunt perfectly overstimulated and happy. Wordlessly Aemond leaves the bed, and begins to rummage around some drawers in one of the many pieces of furniture in the room. You worry for a brief moment that he will leave, and that he meant none of what he said. But as he brings a damp cloth between your thighs to clean you, your worries wash away. He tosses the rag aside, to be dealt with on the morrow. For now, all he wanted was to lay with his wife in his arms as he drifts off to sleep.

A comfortable silence falls over the two of you as you move to covers to lie beneath them. Aemond pulls you to him, tucking the top of your head under his chin, he kisses your hair. You both think that perhaps this marriage will be fruitful, that over time you will learn to love one another. It seems as if you both are on a lovely start for that though as is.

“Good night ñuha jorrāeliarzy (my beloved),” Aemond mutters into your hair.

“Sleep well, My Dragon,” you say in response. You both drift off into a peaceful sleep, held comfortably in each other's arms. No one knew what the morrow would bring, let alone a fortnight from now. But you both knew you would see it through together as equals, husband and wife, dragon and wolf.

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ikeucity · 1 month ago

Text

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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