#stereotypical mother-in-law | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

starryhyuck · 6 months ago

Text

can’t get you out of my mind. (m)

pairing: alpha!jaehyun x afab!omega!reader

words: 16.2k+

summary: the ceremony to choose your alpha mate has arrived.

genre: fluff, angst, smut

warnings: outdated gender roles/stereotypes, some women hating women dynamics (that resolves in the end), mentions of war, mentions of loss during childbirth, disapproval of in-laws, possessive!jaehyun, pregnancy, breeding kink, tiny bit of face riding, bigdick!jaehyun, squirting, knotting, nonstop fucking between jaehyun and reader, public sex, mating

“You must be overjoyed. Your ceremony is soon approaching.”

Sookyung grins at you through the mirror, brushing out the tangles in your hair. She runs her fingers through your scalp soothingly, despite her verbal reminder cutting and exposing your skin like an open wound.

You display a rehearsed smile. “Yes, it will be a momentous occasion.”

“We wait in the thrill for our next alpha,” she says in a repeated line most of the household have been trained to squawk at you.

After dressing you for the night, she exits your bedroom, allowing you the reprieve to breathe by yourself. You lay in your bed, eyes shutting tightly in the hopes of driving away the clouding thoughts of your ceremony.

The ceremony was an ancient ritual upheld in your community to secure the success for future lines for centuries to come. It was developed after a war decades ago between humans and wolves that nearly wiped out both populations, resulting in a tepid agreement to separate both species for the greater good. The violence decimated hundreds of werewolf communities, including most of the ancestors of your own line. Since then, the elders of every succeeding generation have been strict in their ways of treating the new alphas and omegas born from the surviving families.

Every year on the evening of the harvest moon, alphas and omegas who have come of age gather in the town square to be shipped away until the end of winter to locate a suitable match. Born an only child, your pairing with a prosperous alpha was critical to the future success of your family. Your mother and the beta staff of your household raised you to be the picture perfect omega for the ideal alpha you would one day marry.

Months ago, your resolve had weakened towards rebelling against your parents before you succumbed to their wishes. Initially, you believed the ceremony to be a backwards ritual that practically enslaved you to a stranger. You couldn’t put up much of a fight, however, when the struggle of your family’s finances grew heavier with each passing day.

It’s why when Sookyung finally dresses you for your ceremony and walks with you to the town square, you don’t make a scene. You keep your head down as your mother taught you, hands folded on your stomach as you step in line with the other omegas. Sookyung smiles at you when she sets down your packed suitcase, filled with every item deemed necessary by the elders to prepare you for the ceremony.

You always envied your handmaiden for the ease she carried herself with as a beta. Sookyung would never have to worry about bringing her family honor by marrying a strong-willed alpha. All betas were employed as working staff for the communities, keeping the background alive while the alphas took care of the pressing matters in the forefront. Omegas, on the other hand, were seen as nothing but breeding ovens that needed to deliver. When you were younger, before you presented as an omega, you silently prayed that the universe would assign you as a beta instead.

Unfortunately, your prayers were never answered.

“I will see you in a few months,” Sookyung murmurs happily, tapping at your cheeks affectionately. “The staff waits patiently for the arrival of our new alpha.”

Once your ceremony is finished and you are granted permission to return home, your household merges with your alpha’s in accordance with the law. Every staff member under your father’s umbrella becomes a diligent worker for your new alpha. You know Sookyung and the others not only pray that a kind alpha chooses you, but that his fortune is large enough so they do not have to part with any of the current workforce.

She grants you a small kiss on the cheek for good luck before parting, and you watch her tiny figure disappear behind the tree line. You take a small glance at the other omegas surrounding you, also bidding their farewells to their beta handmaidens. Some look like they’re about to cry in fear while others possess a determined expression you know you could never tackle yourself.

The boisterous chatter of the alphas fill your ears, and you straighten your posture and dart your eyes back towards the floor. It’s been years since your mother has allowed you to interact with an alpha. She feared it would accidentally pair you to someone who wouldn’t become your future mate, tainting your reputation in the community as used goods. This will be the first time you encounter another alpha as an adult, and it has your body tingling from head to toe.

The scent of the alphas makes the situation all too real, throwing you in the sudden clarity that in a few months, you will be mated to another alpha and most likely be pregnant with his child. You try to focus on the black leather shoes Sookyung dressed you in that morning, a new pair the elders gifted to your family for the ceremony. You don’t dare look up even after the smell of the alphas grows stronger, indicating their close proximity.

An elder claps her hands to gain your attention. “Very well then, looks like we have everyone. I hope you are all prepared for the next few months of the harsh winter. This will be the time where we expect you to gather together, keeping each other warm as you discover the alpha or omega you will be bonded to for life. I am certain your parents have already stressed the importance of this ritual to you all, so I won’t dawdle on the basics.” The elder’s feet pass by your line of vision but you continue to stare down. “No one may speak with a wolf not mated to you unless supervised, no alphas may claim an omega outside of the moon ceremony, and every alpha and omega must emerge from the winter bonded to another. Any disobedience according to the law is punished by exile. Is that clear?”

A chorus of agreement erupts from every single person standing in the square. The elder offers a hum of satisfaction before instructing you all to follow her to the bus that will transport you to the ceremony lodgings. Alphas are quick to take the omegas’ belongings with them, showcasing their ability to care and provide. An alpha’s hand wraps around the handle of your suitcase and tugs it alongside his. You don’t utter a word, giving a simple nod of gratitude without looking at him.

The ride to the lodgings is filled with anticipation. The elders divide the front of the bus for the omegas and the back for the alphas. The omega seated next to you grins from ear to ear.

“I’ve been waiting for this day since my sixteenth namesake!” She giggles happily. You throw her a polite smile. “They say the lodgings are filled with decadent food and a luxury most of us couldn’t imagine. It might be the only time we get to experience something like this.”

Details of the ceremony are kept secret from the omegas who have yet experienced it. Your mother told you as much as the law allowed her, warning you how difficult the winter can be without a willing alpha to keep you warm and forming alliances with other omegas can be tricky unless you play your cards right.

This isn’t a teenage getaway — it’s a competition. An omega you befriend could be useful to you for a short period, but soon enough, they would become another pawn rivaling your claim on an alpha. It’s much safer to tread by yourself so no one could betray you.

As soon as you arrive at the lodgings, a vast area of land covered in wooden cabins and surrounded by trees, the elder chaperones designate the areas assigned to the alphas and omegas. You are separated into opposite ends of the land, with omegas seeking shelter in the larger homes and alphas pushed into the smaller living areas.

Each omega is granted their own room, which you are grateful for. A handful of years ago, omegas used to share until fights broke out over claims on alphas. The elders became more strategic after the exile of a few unruly omegas, now giving each their own privacy to avoid confrontations.

You had counted the number of omegas on the bus, a total of fourteen rivaling the alpha count of twenty. You knew it was a safety measure the elders took as sometimes two alphas claimed one omega or disobedience of stubborn alphas forced the elders to send them to exile. An omega was more difficult to come by, but alphas were a dime a dozen.

Still, the idea of two alphas claiming you sent a shudder down your spine. You’re not even sure if you would be okay with one, let alone two commanding your every move.

“Dinner is at six,” an elder tells you as she shows you your room. “All omegas are expected to be seated before the alphas.”

You nod, about to thank her before a rumbling of footsteps barrel down the hallway.

“Sorry, Elder Kim. Forgot to hand this omega her belongings.”

You’re too late to dart your gaze away from the incoming alpha, but your breath catches in your throat when you realize who it is. Jeong Jaehyun has his fingers wrapped around the handle of your suitcase, wheeling it inside your room.

Jaehyun is the son of the head alpha of your community. The Jeong family are respected by all across the nation, descending from the ancestors that fought for the wolves’ rights in the war against humans. Every alpha son from their line has ascended to greatness, and with Jaehyun being the current oldest son of the family, he is the most valuable pick of the ceremony season.

The elder’s voice is stern, scolding him. “Next time, you will alert another elder of this omega’s belongings instead of encroaching on her space like this. I won’t tolerate disobedience simply because of your last name, Jaehyun.”

“Yes, Elder Kim,” he replies obediently.

You briefly meet eyes before you avert your gaze, silently reprimanding yourself for indulging in a look. You hear his footsteps slowly fade away.

“That boy,” Elder Kim sighs, shaking her head. She throws you a stern expression. “Dinner at six. We will escort you to the main hall.”

“Thank you,” you say, bowing respectfully.

Elder Kim closes your door and you slacken your shoulders, wrapped in the comfort of being alone. You work at unpacking your suitcase, filled with sweaters and thick coats to protect you from the cold. You find one of the dresses Sookyung bought for you, a long smock ending at your ankles that properly concealed whatever the elders deemed too precious to be seen before the moon ceremony. You throw it on and clean yourself up before Elder Kim knocks on the door again for supper.

You inhale, taking a long look in the mirror.

You can do this.

—

Elder Choi sits you in between Jaehyun and Doyoung, and the other omegas snarl at you over the coveted spot.

Doyoung’s family is right hand to Jaehyun’s, holding nearly as much power as the head alpha. Either one of them would be considered a suitable match for any omega, but you set your sights on an easier catch like Doyoung.

Bonding with an alpha that possesses as much power as Jaehyun is almost impossible for an omega of your status, lowborn with a fortune running thin.

A group of betas begin to serve dinner as you tell Doyoung, “It’s an honor to meet you, Alpha Kim. My family is grateful for your ancestors’ sacrifice during the war.”

It is a sign of recognition to acknowledge an alpha’s successful lineage, a tactic your mother drilled into you from a young age. She taught you as much as she knew about the eligible bachelors of your season, so you know a few characteristics about Doyoung. He’s the youngest in his family but exhibits the traits of an eldest son — steel demeanor, unforgiving rulings, and no room for a silly thing such as love. He’s exactly what you’re searching for in this time of desperation.

“I thank you for the credit,” he replies, offering you a nod. “Are you familiar with the household duties assigned to an omega like yourself?”

Therein lies the unwavering stony demeanor of the infamous Kim Doyoung.

“Yes, I am,” you say meekly. You shyly take a bite of the steak in front of you. “Embroidery and reading are my favorite pastimes, Alpha Kim.”

He hums in approval. “Any books caught your eye recently?”

“The Omega’s Guide to Painting has been very entertaining,” you say, lying through your teeth. It’s considered reckless for omegas to consume any piece of media outside of their class, leaving you with nothing but novels surrounding the fascination of cleaning and cooking. Sometimes you sneak a book out of your father’s library containing details about the late war, but you wouldn’t dare speak that outloud. “I am also fond of The Handbook for Dressmaking.”

“A good read,” he murmurs. “And children? Is that something you’re contemplating?”

You keep your best smile painted on your face. “Yes, Alpha Kim. As many as the moon will grant me.”

The rest of the dinner passes smoothly, and you barely scrape the fork on your plate in fear of seeming too greedy. The other omegas at the table obtain the same values as you, their food nearly untouched. Your stomach growls in discontent when a member of the beta staff eventually takes your meal away from you to clean up.

Following traditional customs, you separate from the alphas when the table is cleared and retreat back to your room. You try your best to tuck yourself into bed and fall asleep, but your growing hunger screams at you. You tiptoe out of bed carefully, checking the hallway for any elders lurking before proceeding back to the main hall. The cabin is dark, all lights shut off as you quietly move into the kitchen. The betas have already cleared the countertops of any remaining food so you check the fridge, the halo illuminating your face.

“You silly omegas.”

You jump nearly three feet in the air, gasping and holding your hand to your chest. You swivel around to see Jaehyun standing behind you, arms crossed and eyebrows raised in amusement.

“A-Alpha Jeong,” you stutter, bowing your head. “I apologize, I wasn’t aware-“

“You omegas are always starving yourselves in front of us. When are you going to realize alphas are never settled when our omegas aren’t taken care of?” He questions, stepping beside you and taking out the leftover steak in the fridge.

You keep your eyes planted to the ground as he moves around you, heating up the meal on the stove.

“Alpha Jeong, you don’t have to-“

“Just call me Jaehyun,” he interrupts gruffly. “Alpha Jeong this, Alpha Kim that- all the rules get so tedious.”

You flush in embarrassment. “We shouldn’t be alone together without an elder present.”

“Another rule,” he sighs, using two fingers to lift your chin up. You meet his gaze head on. “I won’t tell if you won’t.”

You swallow, blinking slowly at him. Being this close to an alpha while unmated is against all commands of the elders and betrays every ounce of your omega training, but you nod and say, “Okay.”

“Besides, the elders sleep like they’re dead anyways,” he says with familiarity, which makes you realize that Jaehyun’s grown up around all the elders who have accompanied you to the ceremony because he’s next in line to become head alpha. He steps back from you and resumes cooking at the stove. “So,” he starts, humming. “The Handbook for Dressmaking is a riveting thriller, isn’t it?” He asks you with a smirk playing at the edge of his lips.

“Oh,” you mumble, wringing your hands nervously. “Yes, I believe it was the top book for the omegas in our district.”

He chuckles. “What’s your actual favorite book? Be honest.” He takes out a cutting board and slowly starts peeling the skin of one of the apples on the counter.

“Um- t-that is my favorite book, Alpha-“ you stop and clear your throat, correcting yourself. “Jaehyun.”

“You omegas,” he repeats with a shake of his head. “Always lying, trying to say what you think is the right thing. I don’t want to hear the dictation from your mother’s handbook. I want to hear your real opinion.”

Your heart beats rapidly in your chest. You’ve never told another being about straying away from the traditional omega values. Jaehyun looks at you with an impatient expression, however, and you can’t bring yourself to lie to the next head alpha.

“History retellings about the war are my favorite,” you confess in a gentle voice. His eyebrows raise in surprise. “They provide me with a picture of what we needed to do to succeed as the dominant species.”

It’s not ladylike in the slightest to assimilate oneself to such acts of violence, and you’re certain this would be the final nail in the coffin to ward Jaehyun far from you. Instead, he smiles.

“That’s a new one,” he laughs. “And the children? As many as the moon grants you?”

It’s no secret that after the war, many omegas don’t find it as easy to give birth as they used to. The lingering chemicals and difficult winters led to harsher environments for omegas to successfully carry a pup to term. Nowadays, omegas who strive for more than four children sign their own death sentence. Regardless of the staggering data, the elders teach all omegas that they must give birth to as many pups as the moon will grant them.

“Two,” you whisper, shifting your stare from him and towards the wall. “Just two would satisfy me.”

He hums again, but makes no effort to scold you for your admission. You expect the son of the head alpha to be more strict on the nation’s laws surrounding omega submission, but Jaehyun breaks out of the mold you initially assumed of him.

He slides a warm plate on the counter, filled with the delicious food you resisted eating hours ago.

“Eat well, omega. I thank you for your honesty.”

When he exits the kitchen, your mind reels over the thought that not all alphas are as bad as you believed them to be.

—

“Look at them out there!”

Omegas rush to crowd the window, gawking over the beefy alphas outside. A month has passed since you arrived for the ceremony, and yesterday, the first snowfall made an appearance. The alphas are currently gathering firewood outside in a clear demonstration of power play. Each wolf challenges the next as they collect stacks upon stacks of firewood in their arms, flexing their muscles for the omegas watching to squeal at.

“Jaehyun is so strong,” Doyeon sighs wistfully, nose glued to the glass. “He’s going to be a perfect match for you, Joohyun.”

You learned pretty quickly that the omegas arranged themselves into a pecking order after your first few weeks here. Joohyun was a beautiful girl from the rural village who was nearly guaranteed a good match because of her visuals, and most of the omegas echoed how perfect she would be for Jaehyun.

You, on the other hand, were at the bottom of the food chain. You hadn’t made companions out of any of the other omegas and you never told a soul about the night Jaehyun heated up your meal while unchaperoned. You kept to yourself, occupying your days with the activities the elders laid out for you, such as embroidery and dressmaking.

“It’s not certain yet,” Joohyun dismisses with a giggle. “He won’t even give me the time of day.”

“He’s just nervous!” Yerim insists, laughing with her. “It’s honestly really cute. You’re going to be the perfect omega queen for us.”

You keep your lips pursed, refusing to voice your displeasure at the constant chatter encircling Jaehyun and Joohyun. You hate to admit you think about that night with Jaehyun more often than you would like, sometimes imagining what your life could be if he chose you as his mate. You admonish yourself for feeding into your desires, knowing that they could never come true.

The front door bursts open and the alphas come piling in, throwing firewood down on the living room rug despite the protests of the elders. You carry on reading the novel seated in your lap, refusing to engage in the delighted cries of the omegas praising their alpha’s strength.

“It really wasn’t that hard,” Mingyu laughs, puffing out his chest for Chaeyeon, the omega he’s clearly courting. “Alphas like us are born to carry much heavier loads than that.”

Just as you’re turning the next page of your book, a voice above you asks, “What have you got there, omega?”

Your eyes flit upwards to catch Jaehyun’s, a familiar playful smirk dancing across his lips. You swallow nervously and dart your eyes away from his.

“Embroidery and Embellishments, Alpha Jeong.”

He clicks his tongue. “Fascinating read, I’m sure.”

You smile bashfully at the jest before Joohyun clears her throat, taking the lounge chair across from you.

“Alpha Jeong, I thank you graciously for providing the firewood we omegas need for the incoming frosty weather,” Joohyun says with batted eyelashes.

He brushes her off with a wave of his hand. “No thanks necessary. Alphas are always happy to provide for our omegas.” He takes another glance down at you but you keep your eyes trained on your book, afraid of angering Joohyun’s clear attempt to claim him. “I hope you enjoy your book, omega.”

“Thank you, Alpha Jeong.”

The alphas exit shortly after the elders light the fire, returning to their own cabins. The elders begin to assign you household tasks to keep the lodgings prepared in case of a severe storm. Elder Lee delegates you to shovel snow from the driveway in fear of another omega accidentally slipping on the ice. You bundle up as best as you can, wrapping yourself in a puffy coat and shoving your hands into a pair of warm gloves.

You don’t comment on the fact that some of the more desired omegas, such as Joohyun and Doyeon, were only given the tasks of watching the fire to ensure the light doesn’t flicker out. You suppose even the elders were convinced they would be married to good pairings and soon enough, they would be listening to Joohyun’s orders if she mated the head alpha.

You sigh as you work at shoveling the snow, testing your balance as you plant yourself upright and continue to dig.

“So we’re back to Alpha Jeong, hm?”

You almost scream, turning around to see the source of the sudden voice. Your frantic actions cause you to slip on the ice and you gasp as you feel yourself falling backwards. A pair of arms catch you, encircling your waist and pulling you tight against a warm frame.

Your eyes slowly wobble up to meet with Jaehyun’s.

“You need to be more careful with yourself, omega,” he chuckles, breath fanning over your face. “Can’t have you injuring yourself whilst on duty.”

You scramble to balance on your own two feet as Jaehyun watches you, thoroughly entertained. He gently takes the shovel from your hands and begins to dig.

“Alpha Jeong, you don’t have to-“

He clicks his tongue in disapproval. “The elders shouldn’t have an omega out here, shoveling snow without supervision. If I wasn’t around and you fell, you could be seriously injured.”

You chew on your lower lip, afraid to tell him that the elders will definitely scold you for letting an alpha complete your work. You observe as the muscles ripple down his back and through his arms, showcasing them properly as he dons a sleeveless shirt.

Alphas’ bodies were designed to withstand temperatures like this, even as the wind nips at your face and sends shivers down your spine. Their figures were meant to be warm enough to protect their families during winter, and your heart aches to be clung to his chest again and feel the heat pressed against your skin.

“We used to play together as pups, you know.”

The statement has you reeling, your mind searching for glimpses of a tiny Jaehyun running circles around you. He laughs at your bewildered expression.

“It was before your mother took you away to become a proper omega,” he elaborates, lips curled in distaste towards the end of his sentence. “You used to shove me down and tell me I kept arranging my mudcastles all wrong.”

You briefly recall a rebellious younger version of yourself, ruling the rest of the children on the playground with an iron fist. It was before all of you understood the differences between omegas and alphas, and before your family was sequestered into the lowborn category. Your life as a child was filled with merriment and fun, and it would make sense that you didn’t think twice about pushing around the future head alpha.

“I apologize for my behavior,” you say shyly.

He frowns. “Why would you need to apologize? We were young — that’s what we’re meant to do.”

“Still,” you reply, swallowing your nerves. “An omega of my status should not have been acting in such an unruly manner, Alpha Jeong.”

“Jaehyun,” he corrects. “And stop apologizing. I don’t want to hear you ever say sorry again for behaving in a completely acceptable manner, okay?”

You blink at him, taken aback by his command. “Y-Yes, Jaehyun.”

He gives you a long look before returning to shoveling the snow, the driveway now almost clear from his efforts. The front door to the cabin creaks open and Elder Kim hobbles outside, gasping when she sees the sight of the alpha.

You open your mouth to explain, but she’s reprimanding you before you can get a word out.

“What do you think you’re doing? Allowing an alpha to complete your task whilst unsupervised?”

This is it, you think. This is the moment that she sentences you to exile, forcing you to leave the ceremony lodgings and fend for yourself in the woods alone. You think of your mother and Sookyung, who tried so hard to mold you into a perfect omega who would bring back an alpha they could be proud of. How would they take care of themselves with you gone?

Before you can spiral into the endless possibilities of your demise, the alpha beside you speaks up in your defense.

“And what do you think you’re doing, Elder Kim?” Jaehyun bites back with a scathing tone. “Letting an omega shovel snow on her own knowing she could fall and injure herself. Omegas are sacred in our district, I’m sure you’re well aware. Leaving one unsupervised by any of the elders could bring lasting damage to our community.”

Elder Kim’s face flushes red with anger from being challenged and humiliated by an alpha younger than her. She glances behind her, ensuring the door is closed for no other ears to eavesdrop on your conversation.

“Jeong Jaehyun, you will go back to your cabin and speak of this no further. I will reassign the omega’s duties accordingly.”

“I’m not leaving until this omega is warm by the fire and fed properly,” he says sternly, eyes narrowed.

You squirm, attempting to make yourself smaller to avoid the heated stare of Elder Kim. She barks at you, “Get inside and stay by the fire.”

You shuffle quickly into the cabin, throwing one last look at Jaehyun before you go. He smiles at you before shifting back to his grim countenance at Elder Kim. When you shut the door, the elder’s voice rises.

“If you know what’s best for you, you’ll stay far away from that omega. You know that’s not the one your father approved of you mating with.”

“I didn’t think you amused yourself with such idle gossip, Elder Kim,” he replies mockingly.

“Jaehyun,” Elder Kim scolds. “That omega is not fit for an alpha of your status. She will not be able to lead the omegas who come next in line.”

“You don’t know what she can do,” he hisses, and your heart beats rapidly in your chest. Is he implying that he’s considering you as a potential mate? “All of the elders focus only on themselves instead of the good nature of omegas like her. Isn’t the point of the ceremony to nurture and bond them to an alpha? I don’t see how that’s being accomplished when you have one of them at the risk of catching hypothermia.”

Elder Kim sighs loudly. “Just go back to your lodgings, Jaehyun. And think about if the decisions you’re making are that of a leader.”

“I want her to be looked after more carefully.”

“That is for us elders to determine. You’re not the head alpha yet, don’t start acting like one.”

You saunter off to the living room before you can hear any more, taking a seat on one of the recliners and wrapping yourself in a blanket. Joohyun and Doyeon are painting their nails on the couch adjacent to you, eyebrows raised at the sight of your presence.

“Shouldn’t you be finishing your chore outside?”

You grab your book from the table and prop it open.

“Alpha Jeong did it for me.”

And you finish your book with a smile, ignoring their blatant shock when Elder Choi sets down a warm plate of food next to you.

—

As the wind grows stronger, the elders begin to initiate more intimate activities between you and the alphas.

One of them is a form of speed dating, where an alpha visits you in your room for a few minutes unsupervised while the elders lurk outside the door. You make your best attempt at pushing your discomfort away at a stranger invading your space, especially so close to your nest. Most of the alphas are polite towards you and ask you a few questions before departing to the next room. It’s clear they’ve made their initial claims towards other omegas, as they display no interest in your life beyond childbirth.

“This is a beautiful pillow,” Doyoung says when it’s his turn, picking up one of the cushions you’ve laid in your nest. Your eye twitches slightly at the action. Any courteous alpha should know it’s disrespectful to touch an omega’s nest without permission.

Despite this, you offer him a small smile. “Thank you, Alpha Kim. I made it myself.”

He hums in approval. “Your room is more bare than the other omegas,” he notes, drinking in your empty walls.

“I don’t have much,” you confess. The other omegas were given various presents to celebrate their ceremony by their parents or beta handmaidens, but you were only handed enough sheets and blankets to cover the bed.

He nods again. “I hope you understand I’m searching for an omega who can lead my household without instruction. I’ll be occupied during the hours in the day working for my father and brother, so I need my pack to be organized without the requirement of my presence.”

“Yes, Alpha Kim,” you say meekly. “I am very efficient in handling my own tasks and duties. My mother raised me in accordance with the laws of the ancestors.”

A knock on the door interrupts you, and Elder Lee steps in. “Time’s up,” she says, balancing herself on her cane. “The last alpha is here.”

Doyoung bows in courtesy to you and you return the gesture.

“It was lovely speaking with you. Thank you for your time, omega.”

“I appreciate your attention to detail, Alpha Kim.”

Elder Lee escorts Doyoung into the next room before Jaehyun pokes his head in.

“May I come in, omega?”

Your heartbeat thumps in your ears. “Of course, Jaehyun.”

He grins at the familiar calling of his name before walking in and shutting the door. You blink softly at him, butterflies swarming your stomach at the sight of him in your room. He looks so big compared to your tiny cabin lodge, and the omega inside of you screams to invite him into your nest and make him comfortable.

“Beautiful nest, omega,” he compliments, gazing at the circle of blankets and pillows you’ve built on the mattress.

You smile bashfully. None of the other alphas even bothered to comment on it.

“Thank you.” You suddenly think back to the night in the driveway, and Elder Kim’s words throttle inside of your head. “Have any omegas caught your eye?”

He frowns at the shift in the conversation. “Why would you ask me that?”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you-“

“Don’t apologize,” he sighs, suddenly exasperated. “I told you that you don’t need to apologize for silly things like this. Just-“ he swallows, crossing his arms over his chest. “Have the elders been talking to you?”

Since that night, you noticed the elders have been treating you slightly differently. You are no longer assigned the more grueling tasks fit for an omega and your portions at mealtime have grown larger. Joohyun has been staring at you with envy, and you know the other omegas have been whispering about you behind your back.

“N-No,” you deny, shaking your head. “I just thought- um, I thought Joohyun was starting to show an interest in you.”

He shakes his head dismissively. “I don’t care about her. She’s not the right omega for me.” He glances at the clock hanging above the door, and you realize you only have a few seconds left together. “Meet me in the main hall tonight. I want to speak longer with you.”

“But-“

“Time to go,” Elder Choi says, opening the door and throwing Jaehyun a stern look. He follows her obediently, not wanting to stir up any more trouble, leaving you all by yourself again.

You thought you would be relieved by the time the speed dating session was over, but instead, you find yourself coveting more minutes with Jaehyun without having to sneak around. You keep yourself occupied until the late night rolls over the sky. The elders decided to separate you from the alphas for meal time tonight considering there was already sufficient interaction between you today. You eat dinner by yourself in your room instead of joining the omegas at the table, counting down the minutes until everyone is tucked away in bed.

You have enough time to mull over the consequences of your decisions — getting caught with Jaehyun after hours is one thing, but if the elders discover that it was pre-planned and intentional, it would evolve into an entire mess. Nothing would probably happen to Jaehyun, he would most likely get a slap on the wrist and a scolding from his father. You, on the other hand, would be sent to exile and your family would be disgraced by the community for their omega daughter seducing the future head alpha.

Still, you can’t help but disregard all of the red flags waving in front of you. The omega inside of you demands to be near Jaehyun, to talk to him, to let him hold you until the storm passes. It’s a carnal feeling you’re not sure you’ve ever felt before.

You’re light on your feet as you make your way to the main cabin, the wind outside nipping at your cheeks forcefully. You slip into the kitchen without making a sound, afraid of waking any of the beta staff sleeping upstairs.

“There you are,” Jaehyun whispers when you enter, and you squeak. “Oh fuck,” he curses when he sees you shivering. As if on instinct, he crosses the room and pulls you into his arms. “I forgot about the snow outside, I’m so sorry, omega.”

You smile at him. “You said not to apologize for silly things.”

The concern in his eyes is replaced with something softer, and the corners of his lips lift upwards. “I did, didn’t I? Thanks for reminding me.” He doesn’t move an inch, rubbing his hands up and down your arms to seek warmth. “And thank you for meeting me so late. I hope you’re still getting enough sleep.”

Your chest blooms at his constant fretting over you. “I’m doing well, thank you, Jaehyun.”

“I-I wanted to speak with you about what you said earlier,” he mumbles, hand stroking your hair gently. You lean into his touch, almost mewling at how perfect he feels against you. “I hate that you’re thinking about me with other omegas. Truthfully, I don’t want any of them. My alpha’s been calling me to you.”

You freeze in his hold. You take a step back from him and he frowns at you. “Is this some kind of rebellious act?” You question. “I should be your last pick as an omega, Jaehyun. Elder Kim said so herself.”

“So you have been listening to them,” he says under his breath, shaking his head. He pinches the bridge of his nose in exasperation. “I don’t care what everyone thinks they know about me. I-I like you. I’ve liked you since we were pups and I can’t imagine myself being mated to anyone else.”

His words cut through you sharply and you struggle to catch your breath. You’re convinced that Jaehyun doesn’t quite understand the weight behind his words and how much this could alter both of your lives permanently. He’s an alpha destined for greatness and you’re an omega fallen from grace. You can’t possibly work out in the long run.

“I don’t think-“

The sound of light footsteps interrupts you, and both of your eyes widen before he’s pulling you into the corner of the room, concealing your bodies behind the tall refrigerator. You keep your lips sealed shut, body pressed against his warmly. A beta worker steps into the kitchen, frowning when she sees no presence of another wolf before flicking the lights off. After thoroughly checking the living room as well, she treads back up to her bed.

You exhale when she finally disappears before you feel a hand ghost over your cheek. Your eyes lock with Jaehyun’s, who looks at you like no one’s ever looked at you before. There’s an affection in gaze that draws you in, tugging at your heartstrings and begging for you to make room for him. He cages you against the wall, molding his frame against yours. His breath hits your skin before you’re suddenly reminded of where you are.

“Jaehyun, the staff-“

“Please let me kiss you.”

You swallow before you nod, and his lips descend on yours desperately. A burst of light explodes throughout your body, desire swelling deep inside of you. He feels so soft against you and it makes you want to kiss him all day. Your hand reaches to pull at the hairs on the nape of his neck, causing him to groan into your mouth.

You’re not sure if it’s from your incoming heat for the moon ceremony, but you’ve never been this wet before. Slick runs down your thighs and you shamefully whimper, rubbing them together to seek friction. It’s clear Jaehyun can smell your arousal, his moans shifting into growls as his fingers dig into your hips. His lips trace your jaw and he starts to lift up your dress, running against the flesh of your thighs.

“Jaehyun,” you gasp, pushing him away. “We can’t.”

He pants, clearly frustrated. You try to ignore the swell of his hard member straining in his trousers. “It’s not fair. I’m the next head alpha — I should get to choose the queen who will sit beside me.”

You shake your head. “I-I’m sorry, but I think you know it’s best for you to mate with Joohyun and I with Doyoung.”

“Doyoung,” he scoffs, tangling his fingers through his hair. “Doyoung would ignore you at a moment’s notice in favor of chasing the tail of his father. He’s a good soldier, I’ll admit, but he’ll be half the husband I could be for you.”

“He’s safe,” you argue. “He’s a perfectly safe choice for an omega like me. He won’t stir up any trouble and he’ll provide for our pups as needed.”

A snarl erupts from him. “You will never have any wolf’s pups except mine.”

His vocal abhorrence is what stirs another beta worker from their bed, and you pause when you hear the creaking of the wood upstairs. You shuffle away from Jaehyun and he looks at you solemnly.

“I can’t do this with you, alpha. It’s dangerous and I-I just can’t. Please find it in your heart to choose Joohyun instead.”

You slip out of the kitchen and trudge back to your cabin with Jaehyun’s heart crushed between your fingers.

—

“There is a prediction that tomorrow’s weather will be the coldest night of the year, with temperatures dropping below freezing,” Elder Choi says, staring at the handful of omegas before her. They have gathered you in the common space, hands folded on your stomachs obediently. “We are allowing the alphas to choose an omega to keep warm throughout the night. They will enter your rooms after supper tomorrow, and we all gently remind you that no claims are allowed to be made outside of the moon ceremony.”

You glance down bashfully at her words. The omegas surrounding you rejoice happily, squealing to one another at the thought of an alpha’s body wrapped around theirs while the wind cries. You, on the other hand, picture an icy night with Doyoung, who would likely rather curl up on his side of the bed than touch you.

Doyeon raises her hand before Elder Kim calls on her. “And how will you determine the order of the alphas? What if multiple alphas are vying after one omega?”

“We have discussed this with the alphas to ensure they speak to one another before making a decision,” Elder Lee replies. “And the order will go according to status of house, with Jeong being first.”

Every omega turns to Joohyun and giggles except you. You haven’t spoken to Jaehyun in weeks despite his attempts to sit near you during meals or help you with your assigned chores. He has been talking more to Joohyun like you requested, and you hate how your gut stirs with jealousy every time you see them together.

The following night, during supper, you sit in between Doyoung and Chaeyeon. You smile at the alpha sitting beside you. “The weather is taking a turn for the worst. I hope you are able to keep yourself warm, Alpha Kim.” You hand him a basket of bread as he nods.

“Yes, we alphas are not affected by a simple dip in the weather like omegas are. My wish is for you to shield yourself from harm’s way.”

You smile politely at him and bob your head in thanks. Your eyes lift to catch Jaehyun’s across the table, where he is seated in between Joohyun and Doyeon. His fingers are tightened steadfastly around his fork, glaring at you and Doyoung. You swallow and realign your gaze to your meal.

“And what order have you been assigned for tonight’s activity?” You ask Doyoung, ignoring Jaehyun’s blatant stare.

“Second,” he replies. “Your omega will not have to wait long.”

“I appreciate your concern, Alpha Kim.”

You burrow yourself underneath a handful of blankets that night, although it does little to protect you from the howling wind. Your teeth chatter as you curl yourself into a ball, praying for the storm to pass. Your door creaks open and you furrow your eyebrows.

It’s too early for Doyoung to be here. The sun has only just fallen over the horizon, so it couldn’t possibly be him unless-

“May I come into your nest, omega?”

Your head pokes out from underneath the covers to see Jaehyun hovering over you, smiling softly at your shivering form. Your eyes dart between him and the door frantically.

“Jaehyun, you shouldn’t be here-“

“Why? My omega is cold and I’m here to keep her warm,” he murmurs. “Now may I come into your nest?”

You have half a mind to tell him to leave this room and find Joohyun’s, but instead, you lift up the covers so he can climb in. His hands immediately wrap around your waist and he pulls your backside against his front. Your body relaxes in his hold, protected by the heat of his frame.

“Did Doyoung-“

“Don’t say his name,” he growls in your ear. He presses closer against you. “I put him in his place. He knows now not to come near you.”

“Jaehyun,” you hiss angrily. “That was not your decision to make.”

“I can’t stand the thought of him in this room, invading your nest and keeping you warm,” he says through gritted teeth. His hand moves to tangle with yours and your heartbeat picks up its pace. “I’m the only alpha who can keep you safe.”

You sigh, tears threatening to spill over your eye line. “I can’t be the omega they want me to be,” you confess in a small voice.

He kisses your neck softly. “You already are the strongest omega I’ve ever seen. That power, that confidence — it’s hidden underneath the foolish rules your mother taught you to be a ‘good’ omega. You just need to be yourself.”

You bury your face into the pillow, allowing the tears to fall. “I don’t remember who that is.”

He turns you over, wiping your tears away gently. “Let me show you then.” He kisses down your neck, lifting the hem of your sweater to nudge his nose against your stomach.

Your eyes flit over to the door again, fear settling in. “We shouldn't-“

“It’s okay,” he soothes you, tugging your sweatpants down your legs. You gasp at the chill hitting your thighs, goosebumps spreading across your skin. “You just have to be quiet for me, omega.”

“The moon will know of our sin,” you exhale, reciting the words of the elders.

He rolls his eyes, nose nudging against your core. “The moon doesn’t know shit.” You squeak when he sucks lewdly through your underwear, slick coating his tongue. “What I know is my omega’s pussy needs attention and I’m happy to provide.”

He rolls down the fabric until your bare folds hit the freezing air. Jaehyun is quick to lap at the slick dripping down your thighs, coating the bed as your head tilts in embarrassment. His fingers reach to cup your cheeks, shifting your focus on him.

“Don’t look away from me, omega,” he commands in a gruff voice. “Let me see that confidence as I eat this pretty cunt.”

You keep your eyes locked on him as he laps at your core, tongue tracing your pulsing folds. You chew on your bottom lip, fearful of allowing any stray whimpers to fall and risk one of the elders overhearing you. He flicks his tongue over your clit, teasing the nub. Your fingers tangle through his hair, gripping the strands to pull him closer to you. He smiles at your display of dominance, allowing you to use his face as your personal toy.

All etiquette training flies out the window as your hips roll against his tongue, slick continuing to spill from you and into Jaehyun’s waiting mouth. You chase your impending orgasm, riding his face until the band in your stomach snaps. He quickly shoves three fingers into your mouth to muffle your moans. You whine against his digits as he laps at your cunt, grinning vulgarly.

“Such a good omega,” he praises, your legs still shaking from the intense orgasm. He kisses his way back up to your face, removing his hand from your mouth so he can swirl his tongue with yours. You whimper when you taste the remnants of your orgasm on him. “Have the elders been making you take your suppressants?”

Since your first night at the cabins, the elders required all alphas and omegas to take suppressant pills to ward off their incoming ruts and heats. The goal was to ensure you were all ripe and ready for the moon ceremony, which was now fast approaching. They would begin to wean you off of the suppressants in the coming weeks to correctly sync all of you to the ceremony. It was the best way to guarantee pregnancy for the omegas on the first night.

At your nod, Jaehyun sighs. “It’s ridiculous. I should be able to breed my omega whenever I please.” You moan at the thought. He flips you over so that you’re on top, straddling his torso. “Go ahead and claim what’s yours, omega. Show me the omega queen you’re going to be.”

You shakily fumble with his briefs, pulling them down until his cock slaps up against his stomach. Your eyes widen at the length of him, long and thick. You heard rumors that a head alpha’s cock was bigger than most, but you genuinely weren’t expecting this.

“I-Is that supposed to fit inside me?” You squeal, frightened by the idea.

He chuckles, rubbing his thumb against your hip soothingly. “It’ll fit, omega. Why don’t you play with it a little? I promise you it’s not that scary.”

You hesitantly wrap your hand around his base, squeezing gently while he groans. You move your palm up to the tip, catching the falling beads of precum leaking from him and using it as a lubricant. You continue to stroke him, marveling at how his cock throbs and manages to keep expanding at your touch. How is it possible for him to grow any bigger?

“Come on, omega,” he encourages you through bated breaths. He lifts your hips up until your core is hovering over his member. “Take your time, okay? It’ll fit, trust me, your pussy was made for me.”

“Okay,” you whisper, balancing one hand on his abdomen as you slowly sink down. You throw your head back, whining at the stretch until his fingers slip into your mouth again to silence you. You’re not even halfway there yet you feel so full, stuffed to the brim with his cock.

You’re not certain you can go any further until Jaehyun shushes you calmly, brushing off the stray tears you don’t realize have fallen. “Take your time,” he reiterates. “It’s not a race, omega. I’ll be here all night, waiting for you.”

You nod, fluttering your eyes shut before you exhale. You gradually press down until he’s seated all the way inside of you, balls snug against your ass. Slick races down your core to coat both you and him, making the glide easier for you when you start to move.

“That’s it,” he encourages. “What else do you need, omega? Don’t be shy about it, an omega queen never is.”

You duck down to seal your lips together, effectively connecting you to him as your hips swivel around his cock. He grunts into your mouth, spanking you lightly with his fingers that are still smeared with your saliva.

“I need your knot, alpha,” you mutter against his lips. You’ve never taken an alpha’s knot before and you want nothing more than to feel Jaehyun’s cock swell inside of you, stretching you open until ropes of his cum cover your walls.

“Let me feel you first, omega,” he hums, using his hands to guide your movements as you bounce on him.

You rock back on him as the euphoric sensation spreads throughout your body, driving your pleasure to new heights. His cock is big enough to rub against all of the right spots, nudging you closer to your climax. You rut frantically on him until fireworks explode behind your eyelids.

You don’t realize you’ve squirted everywhere until you float back down, blinking to clear the haze in your vision. Jaehyun has one hand covering your mouth and you give him a confused expression.

“You were screaming,” he explains in a fond voice, stroking your hair back. His eyes are sparkling and you glance down, shocked by the amount of slick covering his stomach and the bedsheets. “Messy omega.”

He gently rolls you over so your head hits the pillows, switching positions with you as he slowly slides back into your cunt.

“Want your knot, Jaehyun,” you pant, the last orgasm driving you to exhaustion.

“I’m going to give it to you, omega,” he says, pumping into you desperately. Your wetness is causing a slight smacking sound to fill the room every time his thighs hit yours, which he tries to quiet as much as possible. “My knot’s only for you, my omega. It’ll only ever be for you.”

He buries his head between your collarbones when his knot begins to swell. His teeth sink into your neck, forcing a gasp from your throat. He doesn’t claim your mating gland yet, favoring the spot next to it. You feel like you’re being split open as the base of his cock inflates and tears fall down your cheeks at the mix of pain and pleasure.

And when Jaehyun cums, he cums a lot. So much that it spills out of your pussy and onto the mattress. His knot plugs his cum deep inside, ensuring most of it fills your womb.

He kisses you once more, cupping your cheeks softly. “My omega,” he whispers again, nose brushing against yours. “You’re going to be a wonderful queen. The community will thrive under our rule.”

“You promise?” You question shyly, intertwining your fingers together.

“I promise. It’s just you and me, omega.”

—

“You’re a lucky girl.”

Elder Kim brushes the hair away from your face, applying moisturizing cream to your cheeks gently. She sprinkles flecks of gold across your eyes and sprays hints of jasmine around your neck, and you don’t comment on how Jaehyun would hate it if he couldn’t smell your natural scent under the perfume.

It’s the night of the moon ceremony and you’re more nervous than you’ve ever been.

The last few weeks have been indescribable with Jaehyun, save for the haughty nature from the rest of the omegas. Ever since he publicly displayed his affection by choosing you on the coldest night, the others have declared you the enemy. Joohyun apparently cried the entire evening, sleeping next to a rigid Doyoung who showed no interest in helping her stay warm. She singled you out as a traitor for seducing her alpha and the rest of her army followed suit in the accusations against you.

“It’s not everyday the head alpha chooses an omega of your liking,” Elder Kim says with a sigh. “Jaehyun’s a stubborn one, always has been since he was a pup.”

You smile thinking about your alpha. The time together before your moon ceremony has only made the two of you more insatiable, occupying any unsupervised time with your hands all over each other. You’ve nearly gotten caught a couple of times, but as the suppressants wear off and your heat starts to itch at your skin, you fail to stave off your desire.

“He’ll be a strong head alpha,” you say as Elder Kim pulls your ceremony dress over your head. “Our district is lucky to have him.”

She regards you carefully. “I admit, I initially mistook your subservience for weakness. But I can see now why Jaehyun is so enamored by you. There’s a strength inside of you that I haven’t seen with the other omegas. It rings cause for a great leader, and I’m happy to see it reveal itself more these past few weeks.”

“Thank you, Elder Kim,” you say, offering her a thankful bow.

“Don’t thank me yet,” she murmurs jokingly. “It is said that a head alpha’s children are just as stubborn as the alpha, making them the most difficult pups to raise. Jaehyun was an unruly little boy, and I have no doubt his pups will take after their father.”

You briefly glance down at your stomach. Unbeknownst to her, your belly is already blossoming with Jaehyun’s child after many nights of sneaking around together. When you eventually appear back home, you know a few eyebrows will raise at the timeline of your pregnancy. You hold no care for idle gossip now, however, simply happy by your current state of life.

A warmth burns in your chest and you clear your throat. “Elder Kim, does it always feel this-“

“Strong?” She finishes for you, smiling when you nod. She turns you to face the mirror in the corner of the room and you finally take a look at yourself. Your skin is flushed and your eyes are dilated, making you appear more feral than you’ve ever seen yourself. “You haven’t experienced your heat in months. Tonight you will feel the after effects of the suppressants wearing off.”

A frantic knocking comes at your door and Elder Kim frowns, shouting for the person to enter. Elder Choi comes in, eyes wide in alarm.

“We have an issue.”

“What-“

“I want to see my omega now! Fuck your moronic ceremony!” Jaehyun’s booming voice shakes the entire cabin and you gasp, the sound of him being enough to send a river of slick down your core.

Elder Kim sighs, guiding you by the shoulders until you’re sitting at the edge of your bed. “Stay here while I handle your rowdy alpha.”

You clench your thighs together and lay back on the mattress, the ache of your heat spreading throughout your body. It dawns on you that if your heat was affecting you this much, Jaehyun must be loathing the intensity of his rut hitting him all at once.

The scent of your alpha wraps around you, growing stronger when you faintly hear Elder Kim shouting, “Jeong Jaehyun! That omega is not yours to claim until the moon has risen!”

Then you feel a pair of rough hands flipping you over, pulling your ass into the air and mounting you properly. It takes the strength of all the elders and the swatting of their canes to rip Jaehyun away from you, his teeth bared as he snarls in their hold. You’ve succumbed to the instincts of your heat, whining for your alpha and begging to be stuffed full of his knot.

“Get the other omegas out in the field now,” Elder Choi commands, pulling at Jaehyun’s arms as hard as she can.

“But the moon-“

“If we don’t let this alpha claim his omega in the next few minutes, he’ll kill us all.”

Elder Kim finds a way to convince your alpha to wait while Elder Lee rushes to gather the rest of the omegas outside. You feel the hands of Elder Choi lift you up gently and help you on your feet, readjusting your dress as she walks you out of your room and down the stairs.

You’re still completely out of it, murmuring Jaehyun’s name until Elder Choi soothes you, “We’re almost there, omega.” She leads you to the open field outside, where the snow is just starting to melt on the grass.

All the omegas have huddled around in a half-circle, glaring at you once they catch a whiff of Jaehyun’s scent. Soon after, the alphas filter out of their cabin one-by-one, looking just as jaded as your alpha. It’s clear all of you are reaching your limit in terms of the length of this ceremony. Elder Lee instructs them to stand on the opposite ends of the omegas, effectively completing the circle. Elder Kim is still holding Jaehyun back by his arms as he thrashes and growls from the restraint. You know he could easily break both of Elder Kim’s arms if he wanted, but he prevents himself from taking it too far. Your omega preens at the self-control of your alpha.

“Alright, status of house will decide the order,” Elder Lee says exhaustedly from the middle of the formation, her body weary from fighting Jaehyun off. “We will begin with the blood sharing ritual, and I request for Jeong Jaehyun to demonstrate it for us accordingly.”

Jaehyun easily slips out of Elder Kim’s hold and trots up to Elder Lee, taking the dagger out of her hand. He comes up to you without hesitation and Elder Choi, who is still holding you, prods you forward carefully. Jaehyun takes you into his arms, pressing kisses down the side of your face to ease the unsettled nature of your omega.

“Jaehyun,” Elder Lee reminds him in a stern voice. “The blood ritual.”

Although the omegas have been kept in the dark concerning the ins and outs of the moon ceremony, the alphas were taught at a very young age what would be expected of them when called forward. It’s why you glance warily at the dagger in Jaehyun’s hand while he shushes you softly.

“Not going to hurt you, omega,” he assures.

He takes the blade to his skin, slicing his palm open. You whine at the injury, but become perplexed when he raises his hand to your mouth. He gives you a small nod, urging you to press your lips to the skin. You hesitantly run your tongue over the wound as droplets of his blood cascade down your throat.

“The alpha and omega have become one through the blood ritual,” Elder Lee announces and the rest of the alphas and omegas clap begrudgingly.

Jaehyun cups his hand over your cheek, pulling you away from his cut and molding his lips over yours. Elder Lee clicks her tongue in disapproval but you’re lost in the world of your alpha, fists tangling in the fabric of his thin shirt to pull him closer to you. He ruts against you, his cock already fully hard.

“Jaehyun,” Elder Lee warns. Your alpha ignores her, favoring bunching up your dress in his hands instead. “Jaehyun!”

Elder Kim pushes against his back. “In the circle. You can claim your omega, but you know you must do it in the circle.”

With permission from the elders, Jaehyun leads you into the overarching trees while you stumble through the discarded branches. “Where are we going?” You question, your fingers aching to be wrapped around his cock.

“Where the moon is supposed to bless us, omega.”

You uncover a field in the middle of the woods, looking like the season has suddenly shifted into spring. The grass is clear of any evidence of snow and the birds chirp above you, highlighting the blooming flowers rupturing from the ground. Jaehyun lays you in the middle, and you bring your hand over to shield your eyes from the sudden burst of sunlight.

“W-Where are we?” You ask shakily, taken aback by the change in your surroundings.

“The moon’s circle,” he answers quietly, pulling your dress over your head to see you. His lips immediately latch onto your left nipple, grazing the peak with his teeth while you squeal. “The moon is meant to rise over us and bless us with a child.”

“Oh,” you say, furrowing your eyebrows. “But I’m pregnant with your pup already.”

“That you are, my pretty omega,” he hums, kissing down your stomach. “We didn’t need the silly moon, did we? Just you and me.”

When his tongue laps at your folds, you whine. “Jaehyun, want your knot,” you say, tugging at the strands of his hair.

“Let me get a taste of you first, greedy little thing.”

He cleans up the slick coating your thighs, lapping at your wetness even as you continue to drip into his mouth. Mewls spill out of you as you beg for Jaehyun to grant you some mercy. His tongue and his fingers won’t be able to satisfy you when you’re this deep into your heat, you need his knot, and you need it now.

“Jaehyun,” you whine again. “Please, alpha. I can’t wait any longer.”

“My poor omega,” he coos when he parts from your cunt, making his way back up to your lips. “Need your alpha’s knot? Need to be stuffed full until my cum is leaking out of you, hm?”

You whimper and nod. “Please, please, alpha. Want it so bad.”

He flips you onto your stomach, adjusting you into the same position he had you in when you were in your room. He mounts you like before, taking his cock out and slapping it against your pussy. When he pushes the tip in, your head collapses against the grass as the heat in your belly finally begins to subside.

He’s bigger than he’s ever been, and you’re not certain if it’s from his rut or being able to claim you properly or a combination of both. You scream when he stretches you out regardless, your cunt weeping from his cock splitting you in half. He doesn’t show any mercy on your shaking form, jackhammering into you roughly.

You hear a scoff above you, and your eyes lift to search for the source of the noise. You’re surprised to see Joohyun five feet away from you, arms crossed against her chest as she sneers down at you. Doyoung stands right beside her, averting his gaze from your whining form.

Jaehyun’s hand pushes roughly against your scalp. He leans down to whisper in your ear, “They’re here to watch the head alpha claim his queen, my omega.”

You assume it’s another twisted part of this morbid ceremony — for the alphas and omegas of age to watch their leader degrade his prized mate. You moan louder, putting on a show for them as you grind your hips back onto his cock. Since Jaehyun already knows what it takes to push you over the edge, he wraps his fingers around your throat, pulling your back to his front as he thrusts in deeper.

He exposes your neck for all to see, his fingers hovering over your thrumming mating gland. “Please, alpha,” you whimper. “Please, want to be your omega.”

“Say it,” Jaehyun hisses in your ear. “Say it for all of them to hear.”

“Want you to stuff me full, want to be bred with your pups,” you say without hesitation. Your eyes lock with each of the omegas surrounding you and you smile with pride. “Want you to show them how you’re mine.”

Then his teeth sink into your neck, displaying his claim for your audience to watch. Each alpha growls, their patience running thin to stake a claim on their own omegas. Jaehyun raises his head to snarl at them, effectively silencing their complaints. You shudder as you spasm around him, squeezing onto him for dear life.

“Gonna breed you,” he grunts into your ear, landing a few swats against your ass. “My pretty omega, full of my pups and begging to be stuffed full. I love you, omega, and I’m going to show you just how much.”

The first spurt of cum lurches you forward as his knot expands inside of you. He holds your body steady against his, moaning loudly as he plugs his cum into you. Like the first time, it seems as if he has endless amounts of cum to give you, most of it spilling out of your core.

“Love you, love you, love you,” he whispers into your ear the entire time before turning your head to plant his lips against yours.

A few minutes pass in silence with Jaehyun still cumming into you before Elder Lee clears her throat.

“…Well then, let us leave the future head alpha and the omega queen to their own. Now that the demonstration is over, we will complete the blood rituals and finish the ceremony for the rest of you.”

They slowly filter out of the moon’s circle while Jaehyun’s mouth continues to press against yours, gently lowering the both of you onto the grass. You barely register that they’ve all left, your focus drawn to the fact that your alpha is still rutting into you despite his swollen knot sitting at your entrance making it difficult for him to move very far.

All it takes is a few spankings to your clit for you to clench tightly around him again, gushing over his cock.

“They’re going to have to tear me away to make me stop,” he sighs, biting down on your mating gland once more. “I can’t get enough of you, omega.”

“Don’t stop, alpha, please.”

You don’t separate from Jaehyun that night until Elder Choi comes to collect you, insisting you both wash up and have something to eat in your room. Your alpha slowly fucks you in the shower before feeding you a few apple slices Elder Kim lays at your door. He then takes you again on your bed, against the wall, and on the floor.

Your heat doesn’t subside for a few days, and the elders have to force you and Jaehyun to eat and drink to stay alive. Apparently, you were the only wolves left who weren’t satisfied enough, with everyone else’s heats or ruts wearing off after a day or two.

It’s in the middle of day five when Elder Lee bursts through your door while Jaehyun is eating you out, two fingers deep into your cunt. She clears her throat but is drowned out by your moans.

“Excuse me… Jaehyun… Jeong Jaehyun!”

Jaehyun parts himself from your folds, mouth sticky and dripping from your juices.

He blinks twice before glaring at Elder Lee. “What?”

“Why I’ve never,” she mutters under her breath before tapping her cane on the wooden floors. “The ceremony has been over for days now. Your father has instructed us to return to the district.”

“Okay, have fun.”

He wraps his lips around your clit, sucking at the nub roughly until you’re shaking and squirting for him.

“Jaehyun! You and the omega queen must come with us. You will be crowned head alpha as soon as we return.”

“Then my first order as head alpha is for you to leave me alone with my omega,” he says, rising to his knees and pressing his cock against your entrance. Your eyes are fluttered shut, face down in the pillows while your alpha claims you again.

“We leave tonight. If you are not on that bus, trust me, we will leave you to face the wrath of your father alone.”

The door slams shut as Jaehyun knots you for what feels like the millionth time. As his cum drifts down your thighs, he lays on top of you, being mindful of his weight against your back.

“W-What did Elder Lee say?” You ask, floating on cloud nine.

“She wants us to leave tonight,” he replies while pressing kisses against your shoulder.

“I don’t want to leave,” you whine.

You admit that you despised the ceremony when you first arrived and longed for nothing more than to be back home. Now, however, you have an alpha bonded to you and his pup growing inside of your stomach. You feel like your life has finally fallen into place, and you loathe the idea of someone bursting the happy bubble you’ve created with Jaehyun.

“I don’t either, omega,” he sighs into your skin. “But we have to go home sometime.”

A smile tugs at the corner of your lips. “We have a home together, alpha,” you say, giggling and kicking your feet.

He grins, biting your ear playfully. “Yes we do, my sweet omega. A home for you and me.”

—

The first step off the bus is painful.

The wind whips at your face, causing your eyes to water. Jaehyun pulls you closer to his side, rubbing his arms over your exposed skin for warmth. You first catch sight of Sookyung, her bright smile shining through the crowd of people. Then you notice the rest of the community, some of them greeting their children and welcoming the new additions to their home. The others stare blatantly at you and Jaehyun, whispering to one another with wary expressions.

Your insecurity grows tenfold before you see your mother running to you, enveloping you into her arms as she cries gently.

“You did so well,” she mumbles into your ear. “You’ve made us so proud.”

When you offer your father and Sookyung your greetings, they part to make room for Jaehyun’s family to step forward. Jaehyun’s father looks like an identical copy of him, the only difference being the gray streaks in his hair and the wrinkles near his eyes. His mother is the type of omega the elders desired for you to mold yourself after, her gaze averted to the floor and her hands folded neatly across her stomach. His brother, Sungchan, is only a few years younger but it’s clear he’s a Jeong from the way he stands tall and confidently looks at you.

“Father,” Jaehyun gruffly greets him, intertwining his hand with yours. “This is my omega.”

“Alpha Jeong,” you say courteously, offering a polite bow.

Jaehyun’s father gives you a hurried look before narrowing his eyes. “The elders informed me they had to make verbal threats in order to get you two out of bed.”

You glance down bashfully as Jaehyun smirks. “A ceremony for a head alpha is more intense than any other wolf, I’m sure you remember.”

“You’re not head alpha yet,” his father bites back in a stern tone. He scans the area to ensure no one else heard his outburst. “We will return home and discuss this matter privately.”

You give Jaehyun a worried look but he simply smiles, leaning over to kiss you reassuringly. He holds your hand the entire walk back to his house, a grand estate gifted to the head alpha’s family that stretched for acres and acres of unoccupied land. Sookyung’s eyes nearly pop out of her head when you arrive.

Numerous beta staff greet you at the entrance, taking the bags from your arms and rushing to the kitchen to prepare dinner.

“My office,” Jaehyun’s father barks at your alpha.

Jaehyun presses another kiss to your forehead. “I’ll be fine, omega. You go ahead and wait in our room for me.”

Jaehyun’s mother smiles at you when Jaehyun disappears upstairs, offering to show your family to your new living quarters. She leads you into a master bedroom on the top floor, the interior covered wall to wall in artwork that looked like it was taken out of a museum. A king sized bed sits in the middle of the floor, clothed with luxurious silk sheets and more pillows than you’ve ever seen in your life.

“We had it remodeled in preparation for your arrival,” Jaehyun’s mother shares, her obedient smile never wavering.

“I am honored by your hospitality, my queen,” you thank her, mesmerized by the state of your new room.

Jaehyun’s mother nods politely before she and your parents slip away to find their own rooms. Sookyung squeals in excitement at the size of the closet, chatting about all of the new dresses she plans on purchasing for you with your newly acquired wealth.

“I’m going to use the bathroom,” you say to Sookyung, who is wrapped up in the various perfumes spread out on your vanity mirror.

She waves you off and you sneak down the hallway, searching for the office belonging to Jaehyun’s father. You come across a small room near the staircase, and your heart jumps when you hear yelling from the other side of the closed door.

“-Shame to our family! Can you imagine what your mother and I thought when Elder Kim reported back that you chose some lowborn omega as the future matriarch of this household?”

Glass smashes against the wall and you almost gasp in surprise. “Talk about my omega like that one more time and I will rip you in half,” Jaehyun snarls.

“You are a child,” his father’s voice seethes. “We have spoiled you for far too long and I will not tolerate it any further. I was already hesitant when you began this schoolyard crush on her but I should’ve known well enough that you would see it the whole way through. I have half a mind to name Sungchan as head alpha instead.”

“Go ahead,” Jaehyun scoffs. Your hand trembles at the firmness in his tone. “Your threats mean nothing to me. It won’t change the fact that I love the omega I’ve bonded with, and I will love our child more than you ever loved me.”

“…You’ve already impregnated her?”

“Yes, father,” Jaehyun replies, and you can hear the smirk in his voice. “We didn’t leave the bed for days, remember?”

Guilt sinks deep into your bones and you unsteadily hobble back to your room. Sookyung’s admiring the silk sheets laid over your new bed, but she frowns when she sees you. She rushes to your side, helping you sit down on the edge of the mattress.

“Are you alright?” She questions, raising the back of her hand to your forehead to check for a fever.

“I-I’m just a little nauseous.”

“Oh, that’s a wonderful sign!” She giggles, clapping her hands together excitedly. “Nausea is one of the first signs of pregnancy. Allow me a moment, I will request for the cooks to make a recipe one of the elders taught me to soothe your stomach.”

She rushes out the door and you sigh, resting your hands over the top of your stomach. Tears well in your eyes, fear sinking in that your presence has only made Jaehyun’s life worse. You knew this would happen from the moment he pursued you yet you allowed it to continue regardless of the consequences.

Hands rest on your thighs and soft kisses press against your face while you sob. “My pretty omega,” Jaehyun says, voice strained. “What’s wrong? Do you not like the room? Do you need to make a new nest?”

“Your family hates me,” you reply, shaking your head. “I’m a burden to you.”

“Stop that,” he growls, wiping the tears falling down your cheeks. “I never want to hear you say that again.”

“It’s true. You shouldn’t have chosen me as your omega. I knew it well enough but I disobeyed the elders and now your father threatens to take away your leadership as head alpha.”

He rests his forehead against yours. “Please, omega. You and our pup mean everything to me. I never want you to think you’re not good enough. I thought we left all of that nonsense behind at the ceremony?”

“Jaehyun,” you say, still sobbing furiously. “What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to shower my omega with the love she deserves until she realizes she’s more than enough for me.”

He envelops you into his arms and lays the both of you against the pillows, licking your tears away. His hand rests protectively over your stomach. Your cries turn into giggles when he continues to pepper kisses all over your face.

“My sweet omega,” he coos. “Never want to see you cry again. It breaks my heart.”

You sniffle and nod. “I just don’t want to crush your dreams.”

“My dream was always you, omega. Being head alpha means nothing to me if I don’t have you. And you mustn’t worry about my father, his words have always been empty threats.”

“You promise?”

“I promise.”

He’s proven right when Jaehyun is crowned head alpha the next day. From dusk until dawn, the community celebrates the rise of their new leader, accompanied by mountains of food and the elders dancing happily in a circle until their feet have blisters. Jaehyun keeps you by his side as each member comes up to you, congratulating Jaehyun as the new head alpha and you as the new omega queen. Your alpha is particularly chuffed when one certain couple approaches you.

“My queen,” Joohyun says with a polite bow, curling her hands into fists. “We pray to the moon to grant you and the head alpha a happy coupling.”

“May the moon bless you with many pups,” Doyoung echoes next to her, keeping his stare far away from you.

Jaehyun narrows his eyes at him and smirks. “Yes, we do hope for another pup to add to the household,” he says before his hand curls softly around your stomach. “They would make a great sibling to this one.”

“Y-You’re already pregnant?” Joohyun gapes, jaw dropping open.

You smile and rest your hand on top of Jaehyun’s. “Yes, we have been expecting for quite a while now.”

You watch her mind run through the timeline before she smiles tightly.

“May the moon bless this pup and more to come, my queen.”

The night ends with Jaehyun claiming you in your new bed, hips snapping roughly as he molds his lips over yours. “My omega,” he whispers into your mouth. “All mine, right? No one else?”

“Just you,” you pant, whimpering when his thrusts pick up speed. “Only want you, Jaehyun.”

“And you’ll only ever have me, omega.”

As he fucks you until the sun rises over the horizon, you wonder if this is what heaven feels like.

—

You’re six months into your pregnancy and your hormones are running wild.

Sookyung dotes on you hand and foot when Jaehyun isn’t around. As head alpha, he’s normally gone during the day to train new wolves and ensure the community is stable. He doesn’t float back into your shared bed until after the moon rises. You don’t complain much since you understand his duties are crucial to the heart of your district, but you still long for him when he’s away.

Before he leaves every morning, he checks your nest to secure all of the blankets holding the walls up and offers you his shirt from the night before to ease your omega with his scent. You spend the majority of the morning curled up in your nest with his shirt tucked under your chin, breathing in his scent and quelling your nerves.

One particular day, however, has your emotions darting all over the place.

Sookyung tells you later that you were inconsolable, crying for your alpha and refusing to speak with anyone who wasn’t him. You turned down all of the meals the staff offered you and growled at them when they drew anywhere near your nest. Your feral behavior forced Sookyung to fetch Jaehyun from the training grounds, bringing him back to your whimpering form as you curled into a ball in the middle of the bed.

“My poor omega,” he murmurs as he climbs into your nest, pulling your back to his chest. “What’s wrong?”

“You’re always gone,” you say in a small voice, and Jaehyun swears his heart shatters into two. “You’re always leaving me and you don’t love me anymore.”

The reasonable part of your brain echoes that your over dramatics is a result of the next head alpha growing inside of you. Elder Kim warned you when she visited you a week prior, taking a glance at your struggling figure as you shakily rose from the couch to greet her.

“That pup inside of you will be a strong one, my queen,” she said to you with a stern tapping of her cane. “I was with Jaehyun’s mother when she first got pregnant with him. That pup nearly drove her from a graceful queen into a feral mutt.”

You think back on her words now, as you thrash against Jaehyun’s hold in an attempt to get him far away from you.

His voice sounds utterly heartbroken. “My omega, how could you ever think that? You’re my whole world, all I want to do is occupy every minute of every day with you. I love you more than anything else.”

“Then why are you always spending every waking second away from me?” You hiss back at him.

He growls at your bratty behavior. “Omega, you know I have responsibilities to the community. I would much rather be with you than be out there training those unruly pups, you know that.”

You huff, telling him he’s making excuses as you continue to face away from him. You feel one hand grip the inside of your thigh roughly before he’s propping it against his hip. His cock grinds into your clothed puffy folds until you whine.

“I know what you need,” he says into your ear, your wetness spilling out of your underwear and coating his tip. “My baby omega needs her alpha to give her his knot, hm? Show her how much he loves her with his seed?”

You bite down on your hand to prevent a moan from spilling from your lips. Jaehyun has learned that your sudden bouts of arousal was another side effect from your pregnancy, with you sometimes interrupting his council meetings just so he could mount you against the dirt floor outside. Often when you get needy like this, he knows it’s because you want his cock to stuff you full.

He rips your underwear off before pressing his tip against your entrance. “Tell me you know how much your alpha loves you, omega, or you won’t get my knot today.”

“I-I know,” you blubber, pushing back on him. “I know, alpha. You love me so much.”

“Yes, I do,” he hums as his cock stretches you open. “I love you and our pup in your belly more than any of these other fucking wolves. It pisses me off, knowing that I spend more time with them than you.”

The reminder springs tears in your eyes again. In the span of a few minutes, you shift from rage to lust to sorrow.

“I wish you were here all the time.”

He gently flips you on your back, hovering over your frame and leaning down to kiss you. You know your words cut through him like a knife. You’ve learned after months of being mated to Jaehyun that he didn’t care much for other people’s opinions except for you. When his father screamed at him for impregnating a lowborn omega, Jaehyun sent him off to live at the furthest end of the estate so that you wouldn’t have to hear his insults. When the elders complained about you not stepping up to your duties as omega queen by teaching the younger omegas how to clean and cook, Jaehyun threatened to exile them from the community for speaking down at you. But when you confronted your alpha about the beta staff in your household not being paid their correct dues, he signed off on raises for every working member without question.

It scares you sometimes how much power you hold over him.

It’s why you know your accusations of him abandoning you cut deep, but the words fall from your mouth without a filter.

“I’m going to figure out a way to be here more often, my omega,” he whispers into your skin. “I promise I’m not going to let you feel this way again.”

Minutes pass before you’re clenching down on him and he’s spilling inside of you, the base of his knot swelling as he pumps his seed deep inside your womb. He holds you in his arms when he’s finished, stroking your hair gently.

“I’m sorry I said all of that,” you say shyly. “I didn’t mean it. I understand you have to handle the future of our district.”

“Omega, don’t apologize for silly things. I’m the one who’s sorry for ever making you feel this way. I will speak to the elders tomorrow about carving out more time in my day for you and our pup.”

“You don’t have to-“

“I want to, omega.”

“I hope this pup isn’t as stubborn as you are,” you grumble, glancing down at your bulging stomach.

He smiles, dimples peeking out. “I hope they’re just like their pretty mama.”

—

“Be careful, Seojeong. You don’t want to injure Hyojung permanently, do you?”

The younger girl frowns and pouts, apologizing to her comrade and laying down her sword. You smile gently and offer her a nod of appreciation, your hands resting over your protruding bump.

“Please take a seat, my queen. I’m certain your feet are tired from standing all day.”

You shake your head at Elder Choi. “I’m doing perfectly fine. I want to be here when they learn this.”

Shortly after your hormonal blubbering to Jaehyun, he passed a new rule within the community wherein the younger omegas would be taught by the omega queen in the same training grounds as the younger alphas. It was initially met with pushback, as the elders deemed it unseemly for omegas to be practicing sparring in any format and with the alphas in proximity, of all people. Jaehyun, however, understood how important it was for omegas to learn combat if they ever faced any real danger.

You also know he developed the law so he could get to spend more time with you.

You look across the yard to watch him presiding over the alphas, eyes surveying them as they spar one another. His gaze lifts up and locks on you, and a smile stretches over his face. Eventually, he’s jogging over to your form, one hand cupped over your stomach while he kisses your lips. The other omegas coo at the sight of their head alpha and omega queen displaying such affection.

“How are you?” He mumbles softly. “Are you feeling okay?”

Last week, the community unfortunately lost an omega during childbirth, the pup being her third son. The newborn baby made it out safely but the mother passed away due to complications from the delivery. Since then, everyone has been on their toes around you, worried about the birth of the next head alpha as you near your nine-month mark. Jaehyun especially indulged you, never drawing his attention away from you for too long.

“I’m doing just fine, alpha,” you giggle, stroking his cheek fondly.

“The omega queen is teaching the others very well,” Elder Kim says to Jaehyun from her spot in her chair. She pauses knitting the scarf in her lap. “They have made good progress, alpha.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” he says, scanning the vicinity to see a myriad of wolves improving their battle skills. It filled his alpha with pride to watch the community flourish under his rule. He nudges his nose against your cheek. “Maybe we should retire for the day, my omega.”

“Jaehyun, I’m fine-”

A sharp pain in your abdomen causes you to gasp and double over. The yard falls into complete silence before the elders are scrambling, multiple hands grabbing your arms and propping you against them. Yelling ensues, the majority of it coming from your alpha barking orders.

“Fetch the midwives now!”

“If I see one bead of sweat fall from her perfect face, I’ll break your fucking limbs.”

“Everyone clear the fucking area! Go home and pray to the moon you worship so much!”

“Jaehyun,” you manage to choke out while Elder Lee is throwing your arm over her shoulder. The alpha turns back to you, a terrified look in his eyes. You smile and brush his hair back with your fingers. “Please shut up.”

Jaehyun keeps his lips sealed shut while the elders and nearby omegas help you into the nearest home. They bang the door open, and you hear a few surprised screams fill the air.

“W-What’s the meaning of this?”

You look up to see Joohyun and her beta handmaiden on the couch of her living room.

“Clear the room,” Elder Choi instructs in a stern tone. “The queen has gone into labor.”

There’s a mix of shuffling before you’re gently being laid down on the floor, surrounded by piles and piles of blankets as more omegas emerge through the door to bring their offerings. It was custom for all omegas to be present during the birth of the next head alpha, bearing gifts of pillows and comforters to ensure the omega queen’s relief during birth.

Jaehyun holds your hand tightly next to you, propping up your head on one of the pillows and staring down at you with concern. You smile and squeeze his hand to relieve his stress. You look to the other side of you to see Joohyun hovering warily, startled by the unanticipated presence of nearly every omega in the community filling her home.

“I’m sorry,” you murmur quietly to her through the chaos. The midwives have finally arrived and are instructing the rest of the group how to position themselves. “I didn’t mean to burden you like this.”

“You didn’t burden me, my queen,” Joohyun replies obediently. “It is an honor to be able to accept the birth of the next head alpha into my home.”

“Don’t lie,” you say, patting her hand softly. “It’s unbecoming of you.”

The corner of her lips quirk up in amusement.

One of the midwives lays a damp cloth over your forehead. She checks your pulse before preparing your lower half for the delivery. You keep your eyes on Jaehyun the entire time, who frantically darts his gaze back and forth between the multiple midwives discussing the best practices.

“My alpha,” you murmur, tucking loose strands of his hair behind his ear. He offers you a wide eyed look and you laugh. “I’d like to hear your voice now.”

“You’re doing so good for me, my omega,” he says, pressing his forehead against yours. “Going to give birth to such a beautiful pup.”

“Alpha Jeong, you must leave us. It is custom for the head alpha to wait outside while the pup is born.”

A whine escapes your throat at the same time Jaehyun’s head snaps to Elder Kim, baring his teeth and growling. The room grows quiet at their head alpha’s displeasure.

“I am not leaving my omega here alone, is that understood?”

You witness a crowd of tentative nods before the most excruciating pain of your life rips through you. Your back bends off the floor as you scream in agony, and another hand grasps onto you for dear life. You blink twice before Sookyung’s blurry figure comes into vision. She nods happily at you, tears streaming down her cheeks. You know she’s waited longer than you for this day to finally arrive.

You give birth to a healthy pup after hours of intense contractions and moans of discomfort. Jaehyun stays by your side through all of it, gripping your hand and kissing your face lovingly.

As you complete your last push and your baby’s cries fill the air, you’re shocked when the midwife shakily says, “It’s a girl.”

The omegas in the room gasp. Every single one of them thought you were due to have an alpha male from how strong your pregnancy had been. The midwife hands Jaehyun your pup and he looks down at her with warmth filling his gaze.

He says with tears spilling over his eye line, “Praise for the next head alpha.”

—

“Mama, mama!”

You grunt as your youngest daughter rams into the back of your leg. You turn to pick her up, ceasing your watch from the omegas on the training yard. The sun beats down on all of your figures and you wipe the sweat from your brow.

“What is it, my little troublemaker?”

Then, your oldest daughter also collides into your stomach, pointing at your youngest accusingly.

“She’s lying!”

“No, I’m not!”

“Yes, you are!”

“I haven’t even said anything!”

“Girls,” you say, giving them both a cross look. “One at a time.”

Your youngest pipes up first. “She threw mud into Jihoon’s face!”

“She’s lying!”

“Am not!”

“Am too!”

“Alright,” Jaehyun sighs, approaching you after watching you struggle to hold in your laugh. “What’s going on here?”

“Your daughter threw mud into Doyoung’s son’s face,” you summarize, one eyebrow raised at him. He snickers into his palm and you elbow him. “Jaehyun.”

He fixes his expression, staring at your oldest with a stern look. “Is that the proper behavior of the next head alpha?”

Your oldest daughter hangs her head sullenly. “No,” she grumbles.

He crouches down and plays with the ten-year-old’s pigtails. “You can throw all the mud you want when you’re the next head alpha, sweetheart, but only to people who deserve it,” he says with a fond smile.

“Jaehyun,” you hiss as you kick him lightly.

“But he did deserve it, daddy! He was telling me how cute I am. I am not cute!”

Your alpha’s face shifts into one of a protective father. “And where is this boy?”

“Jaehyun,” you sigh one last time. You place your youngest on the ground and stare at your oldest in disapproval. “I won’t have any more reports of disobedience from you. You’re going to be a good little wolf and apologize to that boy.”

“Yes, mama.”

The two children take off running down the yard, holding hands like they never fought in the first place. You stare at your alpha, arms crossed over your chest. He’s still looking after your girls with a frown on his face.

“I don’t want you finding that boy and scolding him, Jaehyun.”

“She’s too young for suitors,” your alpha exhales, running his fingers through his hair.

“I remember a much younger version of myself pushing around the man who would become my bonded mate too,” you say, stepping forward and kissing him softly.

He huffs. “That’s not going to happen for her any time soon.”

“You have to let them grow up, alpha,” you say affectionately, nuzzling your head into his neck. “Maybe I can help you take your mind off it.”

Your hand slithers down his chest and he growls when you get dangerously close to his stiffened cock. He leans over to nip at your ear.

“And how did I get stuck with such a little minx for an omega?”

this fic was posted for early access to the $5 tier on my patreon, which you can access here!

#nct smut #jaehyun #jaehyun smut #nct x reader

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atozfic · 2 years ago

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splish splash.

pairing. san x seonghwa x wooyoung x yunho x fem!reader synopsis. they’re out to prove who’s the best at the breast-stroke- gets dragged off stage as the people boo over such a terrible pun. warnings. no use of y/n, swim team au, lifeguard!reader, pro-swimmers!sanhwawooho, they’re all wearing speedos :), smut ( porn with unnecesary plot, degradation, m+f oral sex, piv sex, anal sex, double penetration, triple penetration bc u got 3 holes for a reason sweetcheeks, mxm interactions, dom/sub dynamics, spanking, hair pulling, way more warnings that there’s honestly no point listing, just know this is pure filth that covers most bases of stereotypical fanfiction smut, mother in christ what have i written? ) no verbal consent is given throughout this but all parties are willing participants !! word count. 20k+ ( of literal porn. i need to leave this physical terrain bc i am not worthy of existing after writing this i fear. ) hyde’s input. hey girlie pops, long time no see.

it’s crazy, what some people will do for money.

take, for example, your roommate. she’s a smart girl. a beautiful one, too. with a promising future in criminal law, once she gets herself that pesky little degree. and, yet, she’s funding her tuition with money she earns distributing high-end drugs on campus. rather counter-productive, most would agree. or, in a far less extreme version, there’s that overly-hyper frat boy, who can always be found doing the dumbest dares at a party, all for a few bucks and a keg of beer.

and then there is you.

you would have arrived home twenty minutes ago at this point, had things gone to plan, a backlog of neglected assignments and a baby bonsai tree in need of watering desperately awaiting your return. yet here you are, stuck in your ugly flip-flops and uncomfortably stale shorts, whistle around your neck and a look of exhaustion on your face.

the swimming pool had closed, technically, an hour and a half ago. the sports centre seems to believe, however, that certain members of the college swim team reserve the right to use the pool for however long they require and desire, even if it is at your expense. if you were being paid overtime, perhaps you’d have a more positive outlook on things and less of a frown creasing on your forehead.

if the swimmers weren’t so irritating, maybe you’d enjoy the view.

“all that height, and for what?” the sophomore boy’s voice- jung wooyoung? you aren’t overly familiar with him, seeing him only in sporadic flashes when you pass each other on campus or at some uncivilised frat party- echos through the large room, his hair a wet mess. if you were gaining anything from being here, you’d perhaps muster up the energy to remind the boy of how a swim cap is necessary at all times in the water. “can’t even out-swim me with those long legs!”

“wanna know what my long legs are for?” jeong yunho, a junior with the face of an angel and the body proportions of a sinner, pipes up from across the olympic length pool. unlike the other boy, a crimson cap keeps his own locks out of sight. “climbing up the stairs to go fuck your mom!”

it’s impossible to stifle your laughter, no matter how hard you try to just play it off as a tickle at the back of your throat, a cough forcing its way out. when your eyes meet those of the glaring senior, however, you’re wishing you hadn’t made a sound.

“even the lifeguard can’t take you seriously, yunho,” park seonghwa speaks, eyes not leaving yours as his muscled arms work to pull himself out of the water, before letting his well-rounded behind sit down on the edge. a breath hitches in your throat as his gloriously muscled thighs come into view, drops of water cascading down them in a pattern set to hypnotise you, keep you staring a little longer than is good for your health. “bet she’s heard all about you and the boner incident of 2019.”

truthfully, you have no clue what the dark haired male is on about. that doesn’t stop you from laughing again though, this time a little out of malice and a lot because it’s quite endearing to see a loudmouth like jeong yunho be silenced so easily, head bowed and ears a little rosier with embarrassment.

this small moment of peace is soon shattered by the reality that these boys can’t spend more than ten minutes in a room- particularly one that includes a pool- without arguing. while one boasts about his speed, the other begins to jab at his lack of endurance, and the remaining of the three reminds them all of the fact he holds the most medals amongst them.

“are they always like this?” you jump, surprised by the cold drop of water that lands on your exposed thigh, all courtesy of the boy who’s invited himself to sit down next to you on the bench.

“not always,” you bite at the inside of your cheek, willing yourself to not look at san in all his wet glory. you’re afraid that, once you start looking at him, you won’t be able to stop. it wouldn’t be the first time you’ve fallen victim to the crime that is his enchanting smile. “guess they’re feeling a little feistier than usual, with the district championship just around the corner. rumour has it one of you guys is risking his scholarship if he’s not in the top three.”

are you and san close?

that’s a good question. see, by social standards, you’re not strangers. you share several classes, you attend the same parties, you’ve even texted a few times- mostly on the days one of you miss class (read as: san misses class thanks to his swim-meets) and you need a copy of any notes taken that lesson.

but, you aren’t exactly friends either. you don’t go out of your ways to spend time together, you don’t know more than the surface level about one another, you don’t check-in with each other.

so, is acquaintances the best word to describe you two?

that depends on how common it is for an acquaintance to suck another acquaintance’s cock. granted, there had been a lot of alcohol in the mix, on both ends, with you drinking to forget a botched assignment and san drinking to forget how badly his voice had apparently cracked in front of his crush.

a few weeks have passed since the incident and things haven’t exactly been the same. you’ve missed class twice and ended up contacting heather- a sweet girl who sits down by the front and seems to live with her hand raised in the air- for any notes. likewise, san has found himself declining party invitations, the knowledge that you would be there all too prevalent in the front of his mind.

the irony is that neither of you quite know the reason why you’re avoiding each other, you just are.

or, were, until san had walked in with his swim team buddies- if they could even be considered that- and spotted you in your lifeguard attire. he hadn’t been as slick as he thought he was, sneaking glances at you between laps and even gaining an undeniable smile each time he watched you blow that stupid whistle at some misbehaving kids.

he was slicker with the fact he didn’t need to be here, at this hour. but, he figured staying gave him the chance to stare at you a little longer and, maybe, think up an excuse to talk to you.

“i should-”

“i missed-”

you both speak at the same time, minutes after watching the three musketeers disappear into the locker rooms, with the smallest of them continuing to dig at them for not being able to out-swim him despite their ample amount of height. san’s quick to signal you to go first, a dimple making itself known on his face and reminding you of the deadliest part of him: the false innocence that drips off him like warm candy.

sweet, sticky, making a mess all over the place.

“i should probably start cleaning up.” it turns out san also isn’t discreet when it comes to hiding the disappointment in his face, because no sooner than those words leave your mouth, the dimple is gone and he’s sat a little straighter, a little more ridged, like when the professor points him out in the middle of the class and the golden boy can’t stomach all the attention being on him. “but, what were you gonna say?”

“oh,” and it’s like he’s just remembered that yes, there is something he wants to say. “i missed you in class yesterday.”

it catches you off guard, leaving you to almost drop the whistle you’ve been fiddling between your fingers for the past few minutes. something about sitting so close to him while both of you are dressed so scantily has you feeling unnerved, like you need to run away as fast as possible, yet also wanting to plant yourself right in his lap.

“i didn’t think,” you’re cut off by your own throat, dry and desperate for a drink under his intense gaze. san is a walking contradiction, you think, with his sharp cheekbones and soft heart, his intense eyes and his easy-going smile. his presence gives you never-ending whiplash, never sure if he’s more angel than devil. “i didn’t think you noticed.”

“how could i not? there was no one to laugh with me at professor nam and his weird toe-shoes!” his laugh is infectious, willing your own to make an appearance.

the sound of distant muffled yelling fills the air of the swimming pool and it isn’t hard to recognise wooyoung’s high-pitched laughter amongst it. clearly, their childish arguing has carried on into the changing rooms. it surprises you in no way, already more than used to their antics.

their rivalry is one for the ages, all of them constantly bumping heads for the spot of the top swimmer on campus, their sports scholarships becoming their pride and joy.

you suppose it doesn’t help that all four boys run in different circles, only really crossing paths when faced with swim-meets and days of practice. the senior, park seonghwa, runs with the richer kids of the college, all sharing their trust-funds and god complexes as a common interest. you’re not overly familiar with them, though you’re certain he and a particular blue-haired boy are rarely seen apart. jeong yunho, the tallest, is in with the jocks, which is mostly just because his taller friend is the captain of the basketball team. and jung wooyoung tends to surround himself with the stoners from the school, something you’d learned from kang yeosang, a dealer you shared a couple classes with back in your first semester.

san, ever the golden boy, drifts between a couple different groups but he can usually be found alone and enjoying his own company, if not being followed by a flock of his own little fan-club, men and women alike begging for just an ounce of his time.

your name echos around the room. your head snaps to the side and you find that san is now closer, staring at you in a way that’s making your insides knot up. you’ve seen that look only once before, and it done nothing but leave your knees and your ego bruised. “were you listening to me?”

“what? uh, yeah, i was,” you’re quick to lie, knowing it’s about to backfire when he breaks out in a challenging grin.

“really? what did i say?” he only allows you to stumble over words for a minute before cutting off your incomprehensible speaking when he grabs at your chin and tilts your head up, staring straight into your eyes. “that’s what i thought. you were too busy getting lost in that pretty little head of yours to pay attention to me.”

you stutter over a noise and settle for that as your response, though entirely incomprehensible and nonsensical. the way he continues to stare at you feels cruel, demons dancing around in those pretty eyes of his. demons that are telling him to tease, torture, torment the fragile eyes staring back at him, the same ones he’d delighted in watching fill up with tears a few weeks back, the pressure of his crown slamming against the back of your tight throat entirely overwhelming you to the point of crying, tears dripping down your cheeks and mixing with your own drool pooling over the swell of his balls.

“need me to repeat myself?” you’re slow to catch up to the fact he’s speaking again, and even slower to notice the hand resting on your knee. at first, you think you’re imagining things, the feather light tracing of nails over your soft skin a mere figment of your imagination. but, no, your eyes flash down to glimpse and his hand is there, fingers dancing over your naked skin like it’s their own personal stage and he’s intending to put on the show of a lifetime. he speaks your name. “questions are meant to be answered.”

“i-” san picks the perfect time to apply pressure on you, hand gripping the flesh on the lower end of your thigh. goosebumps spring to life at the feeling of his cold ring on your damp skin. it takes a shaky breath to try compose yourself but you do eventually manage to get a reply out. “sorry... please say it again.”

“huh,” he pauses to contemplate, slowly leaning his face closer to your own, giving you all the time to pull back if you want to. you stay still and his minty breath infects your senses while the hand on your leg replaces your thigh with your face, the grip he has on it forcing blunt nails to nip at your skin. normally, you’d worry about the marks it’s going to leave behind. right now, you want him to grip tighter, dig deeper into your flesh till he’s drawing blood and licking it off your cheeks. “how the fuck do you still sound so cute begging?”

“is that,” his other hand curls around the back of you, finding a resting place on your hip. the window of opportunity you once had to pull back or run away is slammed shut the moment he tugs you a little closer, the side of your body crashing into his naked chest. “what you said earlier?”

“oh, no.” san almost sounds like he’s cooing, a mocking tone in his voice that has your thighs clenching in a way you’re sure he notices. his eye flickering down to glance at them confirms your suspicions, the smirk taking over his features the metaphorical cherry on top. “i was just talking about how i’ve still not returned the favour.”

mind blanking out on you, you stare back at him in what you can only imagine to be a dumb-founded look, mouth slightly agape and teasing your answer.

what follows, however, is a resounding silence on your end.

“c’mon, princess, don’t tell me you’ve forgotten what happened the last time i got you alone.”

forget? it’s all you’ve been able to think of every time you’ve seen him since, whether he was a figure in the corner of your eye during class or making his way down the campus car-park in search of his beaten up mustang.

each time, like an old record player, your mind plays on loop the way he looked staring down at you, long legs spread enough to fit you between them, closing in on you to trap you in place each time you swallowed him a little deeper; replaying the symphony of whiny moans and airy breaths you’d pulled from him, lips swollen and red from trying too hard to hold back his cries of pleasure; reviving the memory of his vice grip on your hair, tugging at the roots to tilt you back into the perfect angle for his hips to piston into your warm mouth, meeting his own crescendo in one final pathetic whimper of your name.

a whimper that’s pushed you over the edge several times since, fingers soaked in your own sins and mouth biting down on your pillow to keep your poor sleeping roommate oblivious to your actions.

“no,” an answer escapes you alongside a shaky breath, something about the way he’s slowly trailing his fingers down your neck and the intensity he’s staring at you with hypnotising you into forgetting all about the boisterous boys and their changing-rooms chanting. “haven’t forgot.”

it’s his turn to stay quiet and you begin to wonder if he’s recalling it too, if he’s reminding himself of how easily your bodies melted together, like candle-wax meeting a flame. the question of if he’s thought about the exact scene, hands stuffed down his pants while a dull ache builds in his wrist, burns the tip of your tongue.

but his eyes burn you more.

they’re usually wide, bright, full of that bubbly nature san is known all over for. but, if what people say is true and the eyes are the mirror to one’s soul, then san’s soul must be a dark pit made up of lustful glares and hooded eyelids, resting so low his eyes almost appear shut.

“then, don’t you agree that it’s my turn to have a taste?”

it’s the question to end all questions, no time to even think of forming an answer when his fingertips are dancing over your skin so rhythmically, like a practiced choreography when they curl and wrap themselves around your neck. they rest there for a heartbeat, and then another, before you feel it begin.

the pressure is dull, at first, and you think you’re imagining it. but it grows, like a seed under the sun, blossoms into thorns squeezing around your airways, a deformed rose made from the red marks his fingers will be sure to leave behind.

you try to breath in, only for it to get caught somewhere between your lips and his tightening hold.

“you’re too fucking pretty, you know?” the hand on your hip has found a new home on your cheek, palm warm and thumb rough as he swipes it over your bottom lip. “all i can ever think about around you, even when you were drooling all over my balls.”

you want to answer, you really do. but between the hand around your throat and the heat shooting straight for your core, burning up in a puddle of arousal, you can’t. all you can do is watch the man before you, raven hair a beautiful mess just begging for some fingers to be ran through it and stare promising to ruin you in the best way possible.

the silence pleases him.

“y’know, it’s so hard to get you alone. always got someone wanting to talk to you, stealing your attention. do you even know how many stupid parties i had to attend to finally get the chance to talk to you?” san pauses, like he’s waiting for you to relay an answer, guess a number. he loosens up the grip on your neck, teasing your skin with a few soothing strokes of his slender fingers, lulling you into a state bordering insanity. “no answer, angel? or are you lost in that pretty little head again?”

“i’m,” your voice is but a whisper, raspy with your new found thirst. “trying to figure out what you want from me.”

if it’s the wrong or right thing to say, you’re soon to find out, the sharp faced boy releasing a dangerously low chuckle as he takes a hold of your chin. like a pretty doll, you move any time and any way his fingers command you to, finding yourself staring right up into his eyes, a swirl of melting caramel that reminds you of how sweet yet sultry every inch of him is. lips near touching, he refuses to break eye contact as he speaks up once more, sealing both your fates when his breath hits your face.

“then let me show you what i want.”

his mouth comes down on yours like it’s the answers to all your prayers and, yet, all your nightmares.

it excites you how easily he works his lips over your own, captivating every inch of you when he tilts his head to the right and deepens the kiss. the rhythm to his kiss is a mismatch of beats, where one moment your lips are moving in a sensual waltz, grazing tongues and dipping heads to get rid of that inch of a space remaining between your bodies, and the next moment your tongues are tangled in a tango, the kind where his teeth send blood rushing to your lips with every bite he drags over them and his hand drags shivers down your spine as it makes its way down your body.

yet it terrifies you how willingly you succumb to san’s touch, intoxicated by whatever witchcraft he currently holds over you. there’s a deadliness to the way his lips part from your own only to begin a seamless descent down your jaw and the expanse of your neck, a poisonous element to the way his hand once again finds itself clutching the meat of your thigh.

the moment his fingertips meet the bottom of your shorts, you’re wishing you’d never slipped them on in the first place, every fibre of your being growing angsty under the weight of his suddenly halted hand. it stays still for an immeasurable amount of time, grazing over the bottom of your shorts occasionally while he continues to mouth at your neck.

like mosses and the great sea, san parts your legs with little to no effort, creating a pathway for his fingers to travel further up your thigh. blunt fingernails drag up your skin, a trail of goosebumps being left behind, a visible marking of where he’s touching you.

his movements halt too soon for your liking, too much distance between his lithe fingers and your body’s very core.

“have you figured out what i want yet, pretty?” his voice is a stark difference to the usual light-hearted, almost squeak-like tone you’ve grown used to hearing from the smiley boy. right now, there’s no trace of humour in the thick rasp and there’s no time for smiling while he’s glaring down at you through hooded eyes.

something compels you to nod your head, even though you’re a little too lost in the thoughts concerning what you want, rather than what the devil incarnate by your side wants.

“you have?” the words come out in a layer of amazement, and you have to wonder if it’s because of the lie you’ve just told or the way your legs have closed in around his hand, trapping it between them. “i want to know what you want, though.”

you want his thumb to stop stroking over the flesh of your inner thigh.

you want his eyes to stop gazing down at you like you’re the perfect prey.

you want him to stop teetering your impending pleasure on a string.

you want-

“you.” is all you manage to breath out.

it seems to do the trick, however, your point getting very much across to him. a softness flickers over his features, brows unfurling and smirk curling up into a full smile for what feels like an eternity, but is actually no more than a couple of seconds before his devilish aura is back.

lips meet lips again, the desperation and force behind each stroke of his tongue against yours the same as before. san, much to your delight, seems to grow just as impatient as you’ve been since the moment he welcomed himself into the empty space next to you on the bench.

one hand still resting between your thighs, his other seizes the opportunity to drag your body closer, so close that you have no choice but to swing one leg over him and slot yourself in his lap.

there was one time, in the middle of what you’ve deemed to be the most boring lecture ever, that you had thought about what it would feel like to sit in choi san’s lap. unintentionally, of course, for how could anyone look over at him in those grey sweatpants, legs manspreading like it was nobody’s business and pen tapping away at the table in front of him, and not daydream about being perched in his lap, head resting somewhere between his shoulder and his soft hair?

you’d imagined him to be the embodiment of soft and comfortable, warm and reassuring the way he’d lazily lay an arm over your hip to make sure there’s no risk of you slipping out of your new seat. you never, for the life of you, imagined you’d feel the outline of his dick resting against your ass the first time you finally claimed your throne.

choosing to not dwell on the heavy feeling of him pressed against you, you choose instead to focus on the way his lips trail away from yours and make their descent towards the top of your chest.

his hand abandons post between your thighs and rises to the surface, where long fingers begin to pull at the straps of your red swimsuit, successfully manoeuvring the nylon material till it’s bunched around your midriff and your breasts are exposed to the damp air of the swimming hall.

with no want left to play around, he dives right in to dragging his lips down the upper swell of your left breast. you imagine he can feel the beating of your racing heart beneath the goosebump littered skin. it doesn’t take long for his tongue to enter the scene, skilfully flicking over your hardened nipple a couple times before enveloping his mouth around the bud.

one, two, three sucks and he’s moving on to your right breast. there’s no lead up, this time, simply his mouth finding delight in toying with your body while he busies his hand with your left side, thumb and pointer finger rolling and tugging and spreading the remnants of his saliva over your heated skin.

the straw that breaks the camel’s back, and has you arching your own, is the faintest pressure of his teeth biting down on you. it dances on a thin line between pleasurable and painful, exhilarating enough to make you throw your head back as a moan slips past your lips. it echoes in the empty room, replaying your own sound for both of you to hear again and again before the chain is broken by a giggle.

his giggle.

“why are,” he picks the right time to trail his fingers down your body, dragging your swimsuit with them till it sits uncomfortably tight around the top of your hipbones, skintight fabric digging into the damp skin. “you laughing?”

“has anyone ever told you how pretty your tits are?” it’s crude and heartwarming all at once, quite like the man who says it and the little smile he shoots up in your direction as he rolls his tongue over your nipple once again.

“no, i can’t say they have.” the hands that have been resting on his shoulder, grasping them in a vice grip in fear of slipping off of him and and directly onto the concrete floor, gain enough confidence for you let one slide around to the back of his neck and thread your fingertips in the back of his locks, hair as soft as you’ve always imagined it to be. “you’re the first.”

“i’ll wear that title with honour,” he seems to delight in the way you’re carding through his hair, eyes closing while he tilts his head back further into your touch. a delighted sigh follows. “has anyone ever asked you to sit on their face?”

“again, no.”

“another honourable title for me, i guess.” san’s giving you whiplash, with all this switching between being his usual goofy self and the man that minutes before was speaking profanities on how you’d looked choking on his dick. he peaks his eyes open again, slowly, adjusting to the bright lights he stares up at each time he’s doing the backstroke. when he has the nerves to smile at you, all dreamy eyed and relaxed sitting beneath your body on the bench. “now, can you please stand up and get naked so you can fuck yourself on my tongue?”

this time, it’s your laugh that echoes in the air.

“stop, i’m being serious!” he seems to whine his way through his words, bottom lip jutting out ever so slightly in a way you’re certain is going to drive you insane. “i can’t go another second like this, you literally sitting on my dick, without blowing my load. and i really don’t feel like having to explain to coach kwon why my team speedos are stained in cum.”

“you’re so-” you give up on trying to find a single word to describe him, knowing there’s no word that can quite capture choi san’s essence. “okay, okay, fine, but you kind of need to let go of me for me to, y’know, stand up.”

“oh, sorry bout that.” san’s sheepish smile shouldn’t be this cute, not when it’s followed by him removing his hands from your half-naked body.

reluctant, your feet meet the ground and you stand up from his lap. he seems to move quicker than you, no hesitation to be seen as he twists his body around and lays along the bench on his back, eyes all the while watching you expectantly.

your fingers are far from as nimble as his, and there’s a shake to them, meaning you’re a lot less slick with how you pull the swimsuit off yourself. you opt for killing two birds with one stone, dragging your shorts down alongside the red suit, till both are pooled around your feet and you’re begging with every cell in your body that you look more graceful than you feel, stepping out of the leg holes.

in all honesty, you’re more embarrassed with the fact he’d watched you remove your clothes than with how you’re now stood naked, legs a little shaky and the wetness gathering between your folds you’re suddenly so much more aware of, the cool air fighting against your pulsating heat.

“well?” san speaks with expectation, legs bent at the knee while the balls of his feet rest on the edge of the bench. “are you gonna just stand there or you gonna sit on my face?”

“are you... sure you want me to?” even you feel the idiocy behind asking such a thing, when he’s laying right there with eyes full of glee and a raging boner pressed against his hip, nothing but the familiar colours of your college to stop you from seeing him all his naked glory. still, you can’t help elaborating. “i mean, the bench isn’t exactly sturdy and, i mean, what if i slip off of you?”

“y/n, are you joking? you have to be joking!” his offence is playful enough to ease a little of the hesitation inside of you. “do you see these puppies, baby? these are my mad gains from flailing my silly little arms around in a pool six days a week!”

you think this can’t be real as you watch the golden boy of the school put on a show, flexing his arms in an effort to display his muscles and voicing the most ridiculous words that not even he seems to be taking seriously, a bubble of laughter popping in every sentence.

“i’m not gonna let you slip, now hurry up!” again with the whining.

“god, you’re so desperate!”

“for you? always.”

the following minute is made up of wobbled steps and a poor attempt at amping yourself up, repeating mantra after mantra in your head that you are the sex goddess and no man is going to make you feel nervous. not even if that man has a jaw one could slice diamonds with.

he’s got a firm grasp of your thighs before you’ve even got the chance to get comfortable, legs a little shaky as you hover over his naked chest and will your knees to find grip on the bench beneath them.

“come closer, my tongue’s not that long!” san’s pulling you up, closer, all the way to where his wanton mouth awaits you. as if to give you a preview of what awaits you, the kisses from before reduced to nothing, his tongue pops out to run over the smooth of his bottom lip. you repeat the process of trying to find balance, a position in which you don’t need to worry about toppling overboard. though, with the way his finger squeeze into your thigh, you doubt you’ll have to worry about that truly happening. “comfortable?”

“as i’ll ever be.”

“all the people that would die to be in your position, and you say that?” he tsks, tongue hitting off the roof of his mouth before a blow of air hits against your folds and, though it’s faint from the distance still between his mouth and where he wants it to be, it sends a jolt of excitement up your spine. “i’ll just have to make sure i over-perform, make you more eager for next time.”

neither of you choose to dwell on the words next time.

him, too occupied with getting his first taste, tongue licking a strip up your core and coming to a stop as the tip of it bumps against your clit.

you, too busy having the air knocked out of your lungs, hand unconsciously finding safety in gripping his hair as you lurch forward momentarily, mouth falling open in a quiet gasp that echoes around and around.

“hmm, make sure you hold on tight.” you know he’s teasing you, with his words, and with his eyes, and with his mouth that seems to find enjoyment in trailing itself over your clitoral hood and up your pubic bone. “you smell mouthwatering, you know? enough to make a man go feral.”

the chance to reply never comes, not when san makes his way back down to your clit and greets it with the stroke of his flattened tongue. every tiny nerve sparks to life under his touch and you feel yourself grow wetter, a wave of warm arousal leaking out of your hole. his tongue dives down to welcome it, not allowing more than a single drop- landing on his chin- to go to waste.

you don’t even notice the lack of his grip around your left leg until you feel it: the first few seconds of his fingertips probing around your soaked cunt, coating themselves in your liquid pleasure until it’s dripping down the back of his hand.

the first finger to enter your hole is gentle, tentative to the way your body receives him, his pointer and ring finger keeping your folds spread and allowing him the full view of the middle one slowly disappearing from sight, burying itself in the warmth of your pussy. distracted, his mouth pulls back and his head meets the bench again while his eyes soak in the sight above him, flickering up to catch your reaction when another finger enters you, this time with a lot less care as it forces you open around it.

“so pretty,” he mutters the words, more to himself than to you, delighting as he witnesses you struggling to bite back a pathetic moan when his digits curl within you. he repeats the action a couple times, flicking his wrist back and forth, fingers brushing over your tight walls each time and culminating in a curl that has him pressing against the spongy-like flesh inside. “so, so pretty.”

your hips begin to rut against his hand, meeting every one of his thrusts with perfect timing that has him reaching deeper, further, better places inside of you. all the while he’s just watching and admiring the furrow in your brow and the way the swells of your breast bounce in sync with you.

your pussy clenches tighter and his fingers fight to reach deeper before spreading themselves wider in an attempt to scissor you open. he’s giving it his all, a third finger slipping in despite the dull ache setting in his wrist while he coaxes you closer and closer to the tipping point.

san takes just as easy as he gives, and it’s that fact alone that drives him to pull his hand back, fingers withdrawing from you and the pleasure you’re pursuing.

“why’d you-” you heave through heavy breaths, brain fuzzy from the unvoiced orgasm you were so close to having, every nerve ready to tingle, every muscle ready to tremble, every toe ready to curl. “stop?”

“because,” the wet smack of his fingers hitting against your clit is louder than the whimper that drops from your mouth. san hears both, however, and grins, quickly landing another smack against your engorged clit. “the goal is to make you cum on my face, not my fingers. consider them the appetiser, something to awaken your senses.”

his tongue licks in an upward motion, starting from the tip of your taint and ending at your clit, and you get deja-vu to just minutes before, when you’d first felt his tongue on your melting skin, the saliva it leaves in a trail behind it serving to cool you down. a shiver runs up your spine as he blows air onto your cunt, the pressure of it doing wonders to stimulate your clit.

“would you stop?”

“look who’s whining now.” san, despite what he says, does as you ask and puts an end what feels like unending teasing- really, it’s hardly been a minute but the pulsing of your heat and the loss of a climax leave you no room to think about something as abstract as time.

his lips make a victorious return, wrapping themselves around your clit and sucking against the pulsing nub. every so often, he delivers a couple kitten licks- ups and downs, sides to sides, figure eights- before swiftly returning to kissing your most intimate parts.

in an attempt to make your toes curl, he dips lower and teases the tips of his tongue over your entrance, wet muscle moving over wet skin and tastebuds covering themselves in your essence, till the moans echoing off the walls are indistinguishable between san’s and your own.

“you can move,” he grunts into you after a few minutes of repeated alternating between kissing your clit and tonguing at your hole. it’s muffled with the way he’s holding you down against his face and you feel his lips brush against your lower ones as he speaks. “need you to move. wanna see you use me, pretty.”

and, who are you to deny the man?

you’re hesitant at first, just like you were all those weeks ago as you sank to your knees for him. you test the waters and give a single roll of your hips. it feels good, great, especially when paired with his own efforts at dragging his tongue over you.

it takes a few more attempts, and san’s patience wearing thin to the point he resorts to grabbing a firm hold of your arse cheeks and planting you flat on his mouth, tongue flat and eyes staring up at you in a demand to move, goddamn it.

move you most certainly do, grinding down on his tongue like you’ve done many a time with different men’s cocks. it’s messy, sloppy in the way that his spit mingles with your wetness, a cocktail of fluids sliding down his throat, and painting his lips, and dribbling down his chin as he eats you like a man starved that’s alas getting a taste of the sweetest fruit.

the rhythm of your hips is thrown off when the man beneath you switches from having you grinding down onto his flattened tongue to slipping the muscle inside of your hole, thrusting it as far as up as the length of it allows him to. with every time your body comes crashing down on his mouth, the tip of his nose bumps against your clit, forcing you to angle yourself upwards to gain more of the friction.

hands find hair, lips part in unabashed moans, thighs shake with the oncoming of an orgasmic state of mind.

the moment builds too quickly, too unexpectedly, like the ghost of your stolen climax is back with a vengeance and set on ensuring there will be no denying it this time.

“s-shit,” your eyes squeeze shut, too scared to look down at his ecstasy filled eyes in fear of it being what finally tips you over the edge. “i’m gonna- ah- gonna cum.”

san pays no mind to your warning. if anything, he takes it as a challenge, an invisible timer beginning in his head and forcing him to see how quickly he can get you to unravel all over his face. he’s getting everything he asked for, your naked body a mess above him as you fuck yourself on his tongue and your hands, with minds of their own, sliding up to grab and squeeze at your tits.

he watches how the pastel blue nail polish clashes with the darkened colour of your abused nipples, fingers working to pinch, and twist, and pull at them as you lose yourself in the moment.

when you cum, it’s with rolled-back eyes and shaky thighs, his hands gripping at you tighter to steady you as you sway above him, his tongue working at coaxing you through your high.

he licks up every drop of cum he can manage, until you’re cringing in overstimulation and reaching down to push him away. he let’s you move him, mouth moving to trail a couple kisses over your inner thigh, something akin to lipstick stains- yet so much dirtier in nature- being left behind on your soft flesh.

“told you i wouldn’t let you fall,” he’s the first to speak, partly because he correctly thinks you’re incapable of forming anything coherent in the afterglow of your orgasm, but mostly because he wants- no, needs to hear you praise him.

needs to hear you praise him like he’d done for you that night, eyes still hooded and chest visibly heaving as he finished processing watching you swallow every spurt of hot cum he’d shot down your throat. the praise never comes.

well, at least not from you.

at first he thinks he’s imagining the sound of clapping. it’s slow, and booming, and tinted with the slightest hint of sarcasm. it grows louder though, far too loud for it to just be in his imagination. the stilling of your body, going rigid as you fall back onto his chest, the sticky remnants of your orgasm cold against his heated skin, confirms that you hear the clapping too.

“bravo, choi. always thought your reputation with the ladies was a little overhyped, but i stand corrected.”

never has he hated the sight of park seonghwa so much, not even in the times they’ve been head-to-head in the final lap and the older male’s offensively bright swim-cap is all san can see every time he twists his head to catch a breath of air.

the three swimmers stand on the opposite end of the swimming pool, all in various stages of undress.

there’s wooyoung, who looks like he’s not so much as dried himself with a towel, still dressed in his team swimwear. and yunho, who’s got a towel wrapped around his waist messily, hair damp against his forehead and likely smelling of the cheap shampoo provided in the locker-room showers. lastly, seonghwa, who’s seemingly fully dressed spar for one of those irritating long coats san always sees him trailing around campus in.

one look into your panicked eyes is enough for san to spring into action, fumbling to sit himself up and pull your body flush against his, facing your naked back in the direction of his rivals.

he bites back a groan as you shift in his lap, unknowingly- or maybe you do know- pressing your soaked centre against his erection, which already strains inside the confines of the nylon material, leaving very little to the imagination.

“do you mind?” he’s glad the words come out clearly, booming across the pool at them and their unwavering staring.

“not at all.”

san holds you tighter against him, eyeing at your discarded swimsuit on the floor as he listens to a shuffle of footsteps. assuming the three men have made their way back into the locker-room, he’s speechless when he looks up to find them approaching the bench, seonghwa leading the trio with a secure grip on the back of wooyoung’s neck, whose eyes can’t seem to leave the floor, while yunho trails a little behind them, one hand grasping onto the towel around him.

“get your hands off her!” he leans back, pulling you with him, in an attempt to stray out of seonghwa’s reach as he extends his hand out. he fails, however, and the tips of seonghwa’s elongated fingers brush over your shoulder.

a shiver runs down you, one that san feels, the unexpected touch tickling your nerves.

“she’s a grown up,” the eldest of the men muses as he builds a rhythm out of how his fingers soother over your sweat slicked skin. “who i’m sure can speak for herself if she wants my hands off her.”

out of all the men, seonghwa has always been the one san despised most. between the constant boasting of wealth- money he acquired through labor, though not the working kind- and the disrespect he’s never had a problem showing towards others, he never fails to strike a nerve, awakening a dark part of san’s brain that activates his fight or flight response. by far, however, his arrogance is the worst, that sense of entitlement that drives him to think everything and everyone is a piece of clay for him to mold and manipulate till they fit his ideal shape.

the rich boy’s hand smoothes over your naked shoulder and san can’t resist glaring up at him.

“c’mon san, now’s hardly the time to be modest,” behind the oldest swimmer, yunho and wooyoung seem to be battling an inner conflict, yunho fighting to keep his towel in place and wooyoung fighting to keep the shame off his face while his dick visibly strains against the confines of his chlorine-covered swimwear. “not after the show you two just put on.”

“we didn’t,” it’s the first time you manage to speak since covering san’s tongue in your cum, breathing at last steady and face hidden from everyone’s view, much to san’s despair. “know you were watching.”

“and, if you had known, would you have stopped?” yunho is the one asking the question and, suddenly, san’s so much more aware of what exactly he’s hiding underneath his towel.

you give no answer.

“of course she wouldn’t,” seonghwa answers for you, hand moving to grasp the back of your neck. with no warning, he grips a little too tight for comfort and and yanks you backwards, till you’re staring right into san’s eyes and the only thing keeping you perched in his lap is seonghwa’s body pressed flat against yours. “there’s nothing a whore loves more than an audience, right?”

if put on trial in a court of law and sworn to tell the truth, and nothing but the truth, over whether or not you’d just clenched around nothing at park seonghwa’s degrading name, you’d plead that you never did such a thing.

you’d be found guilty.

“poor woo nearly came untouched just watching you two. isn’t that right?” the eldest turns to stare back at where you imagine wooyoung to be. “pretty boy nearly whined just at the thought of being in san’s position, a mouth full of cunt and someone using him like the fuck-toy he is.”

the air grows thick, between you, and san, and every other living being in the room. it feels like the walls are closing in on themselves with every second that passes, the sweat dripping down your back and coming to a rest between your arse cheeks evidence that the space is heating up. or maybe it’s just your body, hardly processing the high it’s just come down from and there’s already another source for a new-found arousal, a source in the shape of three muscular men stood behind you and one beneath you, eyes wary as he gazes into your own, like he wants to ask if you’re okay but all the blood is too busy circulating in his crotch for his brain to be productive.

“now, i hardly think it’s very nice of you to get our wooyoung all riled up and not even offer to help him out.” you decide you’re being lulled into a false sense of safety the second you feel the pressure of seonghwa’s hand leave your skin. behind you, there’s a shuffling of footsteps that call you to crane your neck and catch a glimpse of what exactly is going on but san’s eyes beg you to keep staring into his, to count the galaxies that dance within them while he grips at your waist. “so the chance to offer is off the table and you’re simply going to do as told. doesn’t that sound easier, hmm? no having to make pesky decisions, just spread those legs and follow orders.”

at last, you get your first glimpse at jung wooyoung.

he sits down on the bench, no more than a breath of space between where you and san are perched. he’s a vision in himself, shoulders hunched and embarrassed face the same shade of red as the tip of his cock, an angry looking bulbous head poking out the top of far-too-tight speedos.

san’s grip tightens the longer you stare at the other boy, gaze dancing over the shape of his body and mouth-watering as, for the first time, you see the appeal of jung wooyoung. never before have you understood why eyes follow him in the hallways, like he’s more than just another pretty boy on campus- something that’s in abundance. but you see it now, understand the appeal of his stand-out nose; and the veins that run down his arms; and floppy style to his hair, that seems to be calling out to have your fingers running through it.

with no prior warning, the grip on your hips tightens even more, till san is digging crescents into the soft skin and he’s lifting you, off of his lap and right into wooyoung’s.

the usually boisterous boy’s eyes meet yours, no longer filled with that spark of defiance and, instead, glazed over in tears, a quiet pleading being exchanged between you.

only, you’re unsure what he’s begging of you.

“are you going to just sit there,” seonghwa speaks up, boredom in his tone that has you picturing him rolling his eyes and picking at his manicured nails. “or are you going to help the poor pup cum?”

“what?!” that certainly helps you find your voice, and the guts to turn around and look at the man.

you find him stood closer than you imagined, with tailored trousers hugging his thighs and a perfectly ironed shirt tucked into them, the last few messy buttons the only indication he’d rushed to dress himself. eyes looking past him, you find more of a friendly aura in yunho, who, despite fighting a battle against the towel wrapped around his figure, manages to shoot a smile at you.

and then there’s san, who stands with muscled arms crossed over his chest and a painfully obvious boner resting in the confines of his swimwear, though he’s done a better job at keeping himself concealed than the boy beneath you. his face appears indifferent, yet the twitch in his eye speaks of a tamed anger, a frustration he’s yet to unleash on the men who’d interrupted him amidst his feast.

“are you now deaf along with being dumb or something?” the eldest pulls your attention back to him with little effort, a smirk meeting the glare you shoot his way. “you made that brat hard, now do your job and fix the mess you’ve made.”

words of protest get lost in a surprised gasp as the boy in question takes your hand in his, veiny hand guiding you down to a veiny shaft. wooyoung wraps both of your fingers over his leaking cock, his holding yours in place around him while he ruts his hips up once, twice into your hold, the action sending his swimwear even further down the his length and exposing nearly the full sight of it to the swimming hall.

you don’t mean to compare, yet you’re incapable of ignoring the fact that while wooyoung may be on the slightly shorter side compared to san, he’s certainly leading in the thickness department, with a mushroomed head and the prettiest trail of trimmed hairs leading down his pelvis.

he guides you over his shaft a number of times, a little less shy now as he outwardly whines when your thumb runs over his tip, wiping away the fat bead of precum resting upon it. at some point, he moves his hand away, needing both of his free to lean back on the bench, yet yours keeps moving at it’s own volition, stroking him in a pattern of threes, interrupting every trio with a swipe over his tip or a fondle of his still-concealed balls.

“please,” the whine in his voice is so unlike the jung wooyoung you’ve watched week after week, hurling abuse and echoing boasts of his own talents while keeping himself afloat in the swimming pool.

“he asked nicely.” you’d just about forgotten about everyone else in the room, until seonghwa’s irritatingly unbothered voice serves to remind you of his presence. “rule number one: good behaviour is rewarded.”

“what do i,” you interrupt your own question to glance over wooyoung once more. “do?” you pinch your thigh, skin stinging as nails bite it, and confirm with yourself that this is not a dream but, in fact, very much real.

jung wooyoung is hard and begging you to do something.

“i don’t care how you do it, just put one of your holes to good use for once and make him cum.”

there’s still an echo of seonghwa’s voice by the time you successfully manage to rid wooyoung of his swimwear, the damp fabric clinging to the warm skin and the taut muscles of his thighs. the boy isn’t much help either, seemingly reduced to nothing but a writhing, panting mess instead of someone competent enough to raise himself off the bench just enough for you to undress him.

the sight is mesmerising, one you’re certain will remain ingrained in your memory till the day you die: wooyoung, disheveled and untouched, with his achingly hard cock pressed flat against his lower stomach, his swimmer-thighs spread with a set of balls between them that you find yourself near salivating over as a trickle of his own precum runs down them.

“your cock’s...” you begin to speak, yet trail off as your digits wrap themselves around his shaft, just to delight in the way his breath jumps when you drag your hand upwards and give a soft squeeze as you reach the head. “so pretty, woo.”

“youngie.” seonghwa cuts in from behind you. “he prefers to be called youngie when he’s getting his cock teased.”

“yeah, youngie?” you try it out.

instantly, he nods and something akin to a whimper flies out of him.

fascinated by his shaky breaths and his pretty chest, where warm, tanned skin appears to be near glowing under the swimming halls bright lights as his cheeks flush a palette full of reds and pinks, your eyes are completely fixed on him. there’s something vulnerable and breakable about the way he’s looking at your with the widest of eyes, his eyebrows furrowed and bottom lip receiving countless abuse from his teeth.

never have you been so desperate to push someone past their own limits.

officially running on nothing but pure instincts, you close your mind off to thoughts, like how the boy you’d spent weeks avoiding and missing is stood only metres away, witnessing the way the tip of your finger teases over the slit of his sport rival’s cock. or like how park seonghwa, perhaps the campus’ most infamous trust-fund baby, seems to have complete control of the situation at hand, yourself and jung wooyoung nothing but idolised dolls he’s moving into whatever obscene position he wants you in.

instead, you focus on how wooyoung’s eyes roll back and he lets out a gasp when you gather up fluids from within your salivating mouth and part your own lips, watching how your own spit drips onto his lower stomach, and your hand, and his painfully hard cock.

the saliva serves not only as a visual pleasure, something that’s awakening inside of you at the sight of it leaving you with whole new kind of excitement bubbling along your body, but as a physical pleasure for wooyoung, who seems to have no protest to how much easier it is to slide your hand up his length with the added lubrication of your own spit.

“fuck...” he curses under his breath and his hands find purchase on your body, one gripping your hip while the other grabs at your forehand, like he’s scared you’ll release the grip you have on him and strip away the sweet release of friction. “don’t just focus on the tip- shit, ah- play with my balls too.”

“wooyoung!” ready to oblige, ready to give the pretty faced boy anything he demanded of you, you’ve no time to think of a reply before the ringmaster of this circus reminds you of his overlooking presence behind your back. “stop speaking like an ungrateful brat and take what you’re given. or else... well, i’m sure you don’t need reminding of what happens to pups that misbehave.”

the way jung wooyoung’s whole body grows rigid beneath you, paired with the countless times park seonghwa has butted in to speak on the boy’s sexual preferences, leaves you with the sense that the two are not only acquainted with how each other’s bodies move underwater..

“s-sorry,” this is not the voice of boastful jung wooyoung, who near bounces down the college halls and airdrops nudes in class because he’s bored. this is a voice that’s soft and meek. like a beady-eyed puppy, so quick to submit to it’s owner. “just feels too good. i’m sorry”

“yeah, you will be sorry.” seonghwa’s hand is cold against your back and it lulls a shiver out of you as fingers trickle down your spine like water off a duck’s wings. part of you hates him for stealing wooyoung’s attention off of you just as you were beginning to revel in it, a larger part of you wants to know why the sternness in his voice is enough to have your clit aching to be touched. “spitfire, be a good cocksleave and sit on his dick.”

“ok, stop!” a sense of shame comes over you when it takes hearing san’s outburst to remember the fact he’s watching the scene unfold. “don’t you think you’re taking this too far now, park seonghwa? i know you and wooyoung have your... agreement on how you treat each other, but don’t drag someone else into it. not when she never even asked for this.”

“you had your tongue tasting the eighth wonder of the world on that bench twenty minutes ago, both of you knowing there was a chance you’d be caught, and you want to tell me no one was asking for this?”

“that was private! you guys are the ones who-”

“there’s no such thing as privacy in a public area. besides, it’s hardly like she’s not enjoying this. if anything, i think spitfire doesn’t like the way you’re getting in the way of her teaching youngie a lesson in obedience.” you’re naive to think no one would notice the way you’ve began to grind down on wooyoung’s cock, stealing whimpers out of him as the soaked lips of your pussy rubbed up against him and holding back your own moans each time his tip meets the bundle of nerves that make up your clit. “choi, if you’re that much of a pissy pants that can’t enjoy himself even just this once in life, then feel free to leave. i’m sure the four of us will be too occupied to notice your absence.”

you’re not paying close enough attention to figure out if san’s newfound silence is due to his departure, or if he’s simply too stunned to speak, your eyes focused on nothing and no one but the boy at your mercy.

the initial burn of wooyoung breaching your entry reminds you of how long it’s been since you’d been stretched open by something other than someone’s cold fingers or wagging tongue. it’s been more or less three long months of juggling test after test, assignments piling up on your desktop and a relationship with your now ex-boyfriend being tossed completely into the gutter.

not once had you thought your return to the world of sexual bliss would be in front of an audience, much less at the very place you work.

doubting that it’s been as long for him as it has for you, wooyoung still spares nothing when it comes to reacting to your touch. with eyes squeezing shut, head rolling back, abdomen muscles flexing along side every shaken intake of breath, the boy puts on a show so pornographic it puts the professionals to shame. a whine exits his lips, lips that carry marks of his own teeth and look like they’re in need of a healthy dose of chapstick, and look so disgustingly kissable that your own tingle at the thought.

all those rumours of jung wooyoung being a camboy rush to the forefront of your mind, feeling truer than ever when your eyes take in the bob of his adam’s apple, and the perfectly timed run of his tongue over his lower lip, and the pretty way in which the prominent veins in his hands looks as he clamps his grip down on your hips.

he’s a sight worth paying for.

“are you okay?” not the first thing you’d imagined saying after sinking all the way down on his cock, the need to check up on him taking over before you’d even noticed it’s existence.

“yeah...” he sighs his way through the word, eyes still closed and grip still very much tight on your skin, blunt fingertips likely leaving crescent moons you’ll find yourself staring at for days to come, memories of this moment replaying in a rose-tinted haze. “just need a second, you- you feel good, fuck me.”

“i’m kinda already doing that, youngie.” you giggle, like a lovesick adolescent speaking to their crush of the week, but the boy’s instant smile upon hearing it puts out the fire of shame building in the pit of your stomach.

“hmm,” he hums back, acknowledging your words without giving you the satisfaction of hearing him tell you how you’re correct. “are you okay?”

wooyoung flips the question on you and it parallels with the way he pulls the rains in physically, lithe hips thrusting upwards in search of feeling more, reaching deeper inside of you. in the back of your mind you already picture a look of displeasure on park seonghwa’s face, scowling lips loading up to berate you and demand you take repossession of jung wooyoung’s sanity.

“yeah, i’m-” with the eldest man in mind, you stop and compose yourself, as well as you can while wooyoung’s mouthing at your neck, your collarbones, the tops of your breasts. “i’m wondering who told you you were allowed to touch me?”

control is easily regained, all it takes is your hand squeezing around jung wooyoung’s throat and your soaked walls clenching around his aching cock and he’s melting like ice cream on a warm summer’s day, leaving behind a sticky mess.

satisfaction and pleasure come crashing in tandem, wave after wave moving in motion with each lethargic roll of your body against the swimmer’s, who seems to be a quicker learner than you’d believed him to be, hands flying off your body like it was made up of hot stones and, instead, now holding a firm and grounding grip of the bench beneath you both.

“harder.” you feel a hint of emotion within park seonghwa’s voice this time he speaks. it’s fleeting, and hard to make out quite what feeling it is he’s experiencing, but it’s there and it’s certainly a step up from the usual shameless, egotistical, megalomaniac tone he takes on. “squeeze his throat tighter.”

under the possession of his commanding tone, you find yourself caving into his command, fingers pressing a little harder into wooyoung’s warm skin. the boy gulps down whatever pride he has and delivers a pleasured whine. you grind down harder and an evil, twisted part of you you’ve never met before longs to laugh at the way he so desperately is struggling to keep his composure, fighting back the urge to meet your hips with his own upward thrusts.

so, you do.

“hear that, youngie?” seonghwa’s voice becomes less grating each time you hear it, once an unwelcome and intrusive thought but now a second voice and a valued player in a game of wreck the wooyoung. “you’re being laughed at. isn’t that just pathetic?”

“y-yes, fuck-” he falls victim to your walls clenching around him, gripping his cock in a vice grip. the image of confidence withers away so easily to reveal a teary-eyed, pretty-faced, cum-desperate man. “i’m pathetic.”

“yeah, you are.” seonghwa circles his way around the rocking bench, no longer out of view hidden behind your back but, instead, staring you down with piercing eyes that cut through you like a knife to hot butter. “he’s getting close. never lasts long, really, even seen him cum untouched just from giving me head. but that’s okay, isn’t it youngie? you’re a slut for having your sack drained, huh?”

the swimmer beneath you has never looked redder than he does right now, secrets of his sexual nature getting exposed to the people he likely considers his biggest athletic competition. though you probably should, you don’t push him away when his face finds safety in the crook of your neck, parted lips covering your burning skin in sticky drool.

“don’t let him fool you guys, he’s into the degrading nature of it all. trust me.” you wonder if it should concern you the way seonghwa speaks about jung wooyoung as though he’s nothing but a pet, a possession of which he just so happens to have complete control over. you’re more concerned with the fact it excites you. “call him a good boy, i dare you.”

the words haven’t even formed in your throat and the boy between your thighs is gripping onto your waist a little tighter, lips near pouting and eyes screwed shut in uncontrollable pleasure, burning down his spine and threatening to push him over the edge of sexual bliss.

you consider having mercy, the inexperienced side of you thinking the boy looks like he’s full of shame and embarrassment. the throbbing of his rock hard cock repeatedly stuffing your aching cunt reminds you he’s getting off on the humiliation.

“is he a good boy, though?” you stare up at park seonghwa, not even sparing a whimpering wooyoung any attention as he begins a rambled protest to defend his good behaviour. “i mean, i don’t remember telling him he could touch me. do you, hwa?”

the hands that grip you tightly let go quick, like your skin were an unexpectedly warm stove, scorching his skin right off him.

“i don’t remember either,” the eldest’s agreement has you reeling in a way you never expected, filling you with a new found sense of control.

a control that is ripped away far too quickly, like park seonghwa sensed you growing falsely confident over the situation at hand.

like a shark circling it’s prey, the tall man makes his way back around the bench, each fall of his shoe-covered feet echoing in the quiet swim hall. click, click, click, and he’s right at your back, not a word uttered as the soft of his palm lands on the nape of your neck. achingly slow does it travel down the expanse of your back, not a single noise filling the space other than the rise and fall of your body on top of wooyoung’s and the same boy’s poorly contained moans and mewls of pleasure.

the silence is interrupted by your own shocked gasp, mouth falling agape in shock as your movements come to a complete halt. his hands, no longer soft and delicate, grip you in an iron-tight hold, fingers greedy as they dig into your meaty flesh with no mercy or regard for the pain it may inflict on you.

“no, get up,” like a switch was flipped in as little as a minute, park seonghwa’s voice has lost all sense of the excitement it had whilst he spoke on jung wooyoung’s dirty endeavours and has returned back to the cold, callous, commanding tone it had originally.

he sounds angry, feels angry in the way the fingers of his free hand tangle themselves in the hair at the back of your head and give a harsh tug, forcing your head back till you’re met with his scowling face and perfectly groomed hair, even in it’s dampened state it seems to frame his face perfectly.

“what?” you babble out, dumbstruck, much like the desperate boy beneath you who’s began to mutter apology after apology between pleadings of please no don’t do this and i promise i’ll behave, i’ll keep my hands to myself.

none of it works.

“you heard me. get. up.” the fingers on your waist tug, pull, drag you away from the quivering mess that has become of jung wooyoung, who near sobs as the cool air hits his now painfully hard cock, tip redder than the bottom of your favourite heels and a vein more prominent under his sensitive skin than the ones on his muscular arms. you’re not given much of a chance to process what’s happening before seonghwa speaks again. “wooyoung, up, now. you’re not getting to cum, so get off the bench and make room for someone else.”

the boy makes no further attempt to protest, cheeks painted pink in shame and chest shining with sweat as he shakily rises to his feet, head hung low when you watch him walk out of your line of sight.

then, your knees meet the floor.

park seonghwa chuckles as you go down, hands finding grip in your hair and forcing you to sit up right. heart beating faster, your mind begins to race with questions of what comes next, who comes next.

what dirty desires are about to be unveiled within you, forced into the unforgiving fluorescent lights of the swimming hall?

“jeong, you’re up,” seonghwa’s knee digs into your back and his fingers tug until your scalp begins to sting a little. you don’t want to like it but, in life, you don’t always get what you want.

there’s a series of shuffles behind you, followed by heavy footsteps. there’s no rush, yet no hesitation, just calm and collected footsteps of someone making their way over to do god knows what with you.

when jeong yunho, with his towel that’s looking a lot tighter around his crotch still around his waist, steps into frame, an inexplicable sense of comfort washes over you.

maybe it’s the way he smiles down at you, or the fact his hands brush seonghwa’s off of you, or the way his fingers take a hold of your chin once he’s seated in front of you.

maybe it’s just the fact he’s jeong yunho, campus himbo with a reputation for walking girls home at night just to make sure they’re safe and for singing britney spears with no shame each time the karaoke mic gets passed around.

whatever it is, it’s turning you on.

your knees are burning with fresh pain as park seonghwa shoves you closer to the mammoth of a man and you can’t help but swallow down the ball of anxiety growing in your throat.

everything about jeong yunho’s demeanour has always seemed large, with powerful arms that drag his body through the weight of water and large hands that effortlessly carry countless textbooks through the university halls; a tall frame that helps him stand out in any crowd and a personality loud enough to set off alarms; his thighs a muscular stairway leading up to a well rounded, remarkably defined posterior. it’s safe to say he’s carried a reputation for some time, one that consists of whispers between girls on campus who recount just how well endowed he really is. 7 inches, 9 inches, 12 inches, you’ve heard it all, each girl claiming it to be bigger than the last.

unfortunately, there’s no ruler at your disposal to uncover the truth of the rumours, but you confirm he’s certainly large as you watch him undo the towel. larger than you’ve ever seen before, with a thickness to match, and two heavy looking balls decorating the base.

he wraps a hand around it and you watch how he gives a light squeeze at the head, slowly sliding down the length of it till he reaches the tuft of groomed hairs on his pelvic bone. one of his hands alone holds half of his cock, leaving you almost certain you’d need to use both hands on him.

“d’you want it, sweetheart?” his words are teasing but his voice is soft, a complete one-eighty to the verbal berating you’ve been receiving- and enjoying- from park seonghwa.

you’re sure he notices the way you clench your thighs as he slaps his cock once, then twice against his stomach, the precum leaking out on to his tanned skinned.

there’s an itch inside your throat, one you imagine only he can scratch.

“you wanna taste it?” he’s still speaking to you through the arousal that fogs over your brain, commanding your tongue to swipe over your bottom lip as you burn your gaze at the glistening liquid on his warm skin, tastebuds aching to have him paint them in white.

you nod your head.

his own throws itself back, a chuckle rupturing out of his chest as he continues to tease himself with his hand.

“fuck, yeah, bet you can’t wait to taste my cock, feel it stab the back of your tight throat.” a smile should never look so sweet while it’s part of the same mouth spewing out such filth. somehow, jeong yunho makes it work. “gonna get it nice and wet for me, yeah? make it sloppy, i love it when a pretty thing like you gets all messy over my cock.”

the knee that’s suddenly digging it’s way into your back has no mercy. you wince, pull in a sharp breath and inch just that little bit closer to the bench. like a glove fits a hand, you slip right in between the muscled tree trunks that make up jeong yunho’s thighs.

you wonder, if only momentarily, what sweet a death it would be to be crushed between them, taut muscles constricting the flow of air to your lungs like a boa with its prey.

but there’s a far more preferable way to be choked by the man before you, body carved out in such definition you fear michael angelo himself stands in admiration of it.

his hand snakes its way around your body, warm and heavy and imposing with the grip it settles for at the base of your neck. in spite of the sharp stab coming from behind- where you have no doubt one park seonghwa stands with disgruntled impatience written all over his irritatingly perfect face- there is no doubt in your mind that the man in front of you holds the reigns. with eyes of honey and lips of velvet, he peers down at you with a tendered expression, saying nothing yet everything with the gentle, repeated sooth of his thumb over your skin.

you need no verbal instructions this time around.

a hand grips the base of him as the other squeezes the flesh of your own thigh, piercing your skin with just enough pressure to assure you this is the reality you find yourself in, rather than some twisted, substance influenced dream.

the first taste is the sweetest, tongue a missionary sent into the foreign land of his body to discover the way he reacts as you drag it over the tip. he gives nothing but a squeeze to the back of your neck; and that crumbles you under his control.

with a few more kitten licks- for good luck, if anything,- the show begins with the parting of your lips, the widening of your mouth, the burning of your skin as you struggle with your ability to swallow him whole. you make it no further than a third of his length before he’s tugging gently on your roots and bringing you back to the surface of existence.

“breathe, okay,” his voice is gentle, calming your nerves yet sending your heart into a fit of patternless beats. “inhale, exhale, got it? through the nose, that’s gonna help you relax.”

doing as he says, you swallow three whole breaths. shaky, ragged, each feeling hollow in your chest in comparison to the weight of his cock on your tongue.

“pretty girl,” he practically coos, hand cupping your chin as his thumb smoothes over the swell of your bottom lip. it’s tender, sweet, and almost enough to make you forget the sight of his engorged cock that sits angrily between his tree-trunk shaped thighs, crying out for the return of your mouth’s affection. “someone’s gotta teach you to not be greedy, hmm? small little mouth of yours is no fit for me, don’t go choking on it.”

heat flashes between your thighs, your heartbeat dropping right down to your clit and leaving you with a burning ache, the kind only a gentleman like this could soothe. your fingers may have to do, however, if the stubborn arsehole behind you would be so kind as to let you enjoy yourself.

the way park seonghwa curls his hand round the front of your neck and flexes his nimble fingers- that goddamn family heirloom ring a punishing cold to your warm skin, near brandishing you as touched by some nepotism child- when you do so little as clench your thighs together to relieve the pressure, or lack-there-of, between your thighs tells you he’ll grant you no such fun.

“you’d need to have something big enough for her to choke on,” san, precious san. still here, still somewhere beneath this god-forsaken tin-can roof swimming pool, watching you bruise your knees and your ego for another man, another one of his team-mates. what must he think of you? has he lost whatever respect he may have had? does he think he’d been just another body to exchange fluids with, that night at the party? if you could just see his face, you’d not need to wonder all these things. his eyes, they always give him away, too earnest and pure for his own good.

“shut it, choi,” yunho’s bark isn’t half as loud as seonghwa’s booming commands have been, and are nowhere near as malignant. if anything, the gentle giant is humoured by his team-mate’s words, as if he knows they’re a preposterous thing to say about him. then again, you can’t imagine any man remaining humble about themselves if they were so well-endowed. “or do you wanna crack out the measuring tape again and remind yourself of just how much of me there is to choke on?”

silence.

it takes a few moments for the spotlight to return to you, a gradual shift from playful to lust driven energy encapsulating the broad frame of the man before. he cups your cheek, feather-light touch smoothing over your skin while his eyes burrow daggers into your soul.

why must his shoulders be so wide? it almost angers you as much as it sends a wave of heat between your legs.

almost, but not quite.

“‘s cute,” he half mumbles, distracted by the sight you paint below him on your knees, bruises already forming and thighs clenching for some relief of pressure. “your little pussy’s all wet just from having my cock in your mouth.”

“i think you’re forgetting she was bouncing on woo’s dick a few minutes ago, yunho,” the devil on your shoulder won’t let you rest, hand snaking through the threads of your hair and tugging on your roots. not enough to hurt, just enough to sting. “have some modesty.”

“sure, let’s act like i’m not the one who had her cumming all over my face a while ago.” san mumbles a string of words you wish you could unhear, face heating up as the shame burns through your bloodstream.

how had you gotten here?

you’re allowed no such freedom to ponder over previous actions as jeong yunho’s all encompassing frame works to remind you of where you find yourself: on your knees dressed in nothing but your own shame- shame which seems to slip off of you, piece by piece, baring you shamelessly to this pack of wolf-eyed boys’ for their eyes to feast upon.

strong, veiny hands reach out and drag you forwards, just an inch yet it’s all you need to feel the weight of park seonghwa’s domineering figure float off of you, rendering you under the control of this much larger, far smilier looking man. “eyes on me, okay? don’t wanna miss the way i’m about to make them roll back.”

there begins a game of push and pull, where jeong yunho pushes you closer and closer to his evident arousal, all the while teasing you as he pulls his hips back, keeping your waiting mouth open and empty, and oh-so frustrated at the feeling of being so close yet so far away from his dripping tip.

the first real taste you get of him does, in fact, nearly have your eyes rolling back. a kitten lick, barely there yet fully felt, running over the underside of his cock, a taste of salted skin, and musky sweat, and stale chlorine mixing in with the warmth of him flooding your senses. his reaction is no more composed than yours, blatantly parting his lips in a gasp and bucking his hips up, forwards, any direction they need follow to chase after your mouth.

happy to comply, you take pride in tasting him a second time, this time right over the growing drop of pre-cum pebbling on his tip. white flashes behind your closing eyes as his grip in your hair tightens, a pulse of heat firing straight down your spine as your mind floods with images of what it must be like to watch this man, this gentleman, this figure that so wholly encompasses what it means to be a himbo in this day and age lose his cool and revolt into his most carnal, basal instincts to take whatever pleasure he needs from you with a reckless abandon, burrow his throbbing cock down your throat till the beat of his heart takes over your own.

instead, you settle for wrapping your lips around him, at last, and letting him guide you just that little bit down his length. the weight of him feels nice, a strange sense of comfort birthing in your bones as you grow used to feel of him taking up your palate. his breaths seem to run in tandem with the inches he sinks deep between your parted lips.

a deep breath, he lowers you further, till your left cheek begins to bulge out.

tongue pinned to the floor of your mouth, you make use of it as best you can, rolling it over the bottom of his shaft and earning yourself a plethora of gratifying sounds, each deep and desperate and crooning straight out of jeong yunho’s broad chest.

another deep breath, another inch.

for all the false dominance you wield over the situation, with the heat of your mouth and spill of your own saliva slickening his cock, his real and visceral dominance doubles it by tenfold, with a hand on the back of your neck, guiding your every move, and a knowing, gentle look cast downwards at you from where he sits propped on the bench, thighs a heavy mass to case your body between. a silly little voice in your head whispers a seductive tale of how easily this man could get you in a headlock and suffocate your fragile windpipes. a wave of heat, this one going right down to your core and forcing you to pay attention to it, shifting awkwardly and clenching the muscles in your own legs in hopes of getting some pitiful amount of pressure.

all breathing stops as he hits the back of your throat.

hands pulling tight, a biting pain ripping through your hair and a tired gag creeping out of your constricting throat, yunho holds you still and strong, as unmoving as the mountains that fill the horizon from your bedroom window.

he’s not even fully in, an arguably obscene amount of him still awaiting some form of attention beyond the spill of the spit filling up your mouth. but there’s nowhere for it to go, not within your mouth at least, and so you manoeuvre your hand up and grip the neglected inches, the tip of your pinkie teasingly brushing over the swell of his balls.

he lurches forward, gasping in a breath of air at last. “fucking christ- shit,” he grits his teeth. “her mouth’s warm.”

“well, obviously. this your first time getting a blowjob or something, jeong?” god, the reminder of seonghwa being here, somewhere behind you, fox eyes judging your every move and keeping his cool, no matter how hard you’d seen his cock straining in those ridiculous pant-suit trousers he sports. it’s sickening.

“yeah, yunho, watch out before you have a repeat of 2019.”

if the taller jeong wants to snap at the other, you never find out, instead dedicating yourself to the glory of worshipping him between your parted lips and tight throat, jaw ready to lock itself in place so long as it keeps him inside.

you treat him differently than you’d treated san that night. you’d been tipsy then, buzzing off the colourful shots of who-knows-what you’d been conned into downing a half hours before, mind hazy as you kneeled between him and teased your tongue over every crevice of him it could reach, dripping him in drool and working an ache into your overused tongue by the time you got watched him spill over the edge of ecstasy. that wasn’t even about san’s pleasure, no real care put into getting him off, your own selfish need to indulge in the pleasure of feeling, tasting, worshipping him taking precedence.

but, right now, you’re overwhelmingly sober, mind hazed only by a cloud of inexplicable lust that rolled in the moment san shot you his stupid smile, and you care about making jeong yunho cum. in fact, it’s the only thing on your mind as you bob your head up and down, letting his own hand guide your pace.

“shh, shh,” he’s hushing your own struggles for breath and carding his fingers through the tresses of your hair, his legs clamping down on either side of you, pinning you in your rightful place. “taking it so good, baby. so fucking good.”

good’s not good enough.

you want to leave him mind-blown, exhausted, unhinged. you want him clenching his jaw, and baring his teeth, and stuttering over any praise he tries to give you. in fact, you need it, need that thrill-driven lust of collapsing the sanity of a man as broad and strong and capable as him.

so you pick up the pace, fight against the steady up-and-down of his grip and try to take just that little bit more of him in your mouth and down your throat, till you’ve no doubt there’s a visible bulge of where he sits down your windpipe. you think back on what he said- i love it when a pretty thing like you gets all messy over my cock- and work towards doing just that, mouth a fountain of over-flowing spit that paints lines down your chin and over his heavy balls. the hand at his base lightly drags the tips of its nails over his burning skin and you physically feel the way his cock jumps in your mouth, head twitching as his hips involuntarily jolt forwards.

eyes as wide as a deer in headlights, you glance up to stare into his own, only to find they’re rolling back in his head, too caught up in the headiness of having your mouth on him to visually focus. it’s erotic, tracing your eyes over the protruding vein in his neck and the unrhythmic heaving of his chest- like every breath he pulls is a rare gift and a miracle- and the straining of his muscled thighs that hold back his urge to buck freely into your mouth, use you as nothing but a hole to get himself off with.

your free hand stakes claim over your own sexual frustration, nimble fingers rubbing tight, slow circles over your clit in an attempt to just ease that heat burning you from the inside out.

“she’s touching herself, jeong,” not even the irritating, grating voice of park seonghwa’s unwanted commentary can take away the kick you’re getting out of working this man into a frenzy. “are you just going to let her, without your permiss-”

“shut up, park,” yunho is wrecked, voice divulging so far from that loud, boyish charm into a dark, broken sort of gruffed out thing, echoing straight out of his chest. but, that doesn’t mean he doesn’t listen to the other man, doesn’t force his eyes open to glance down in a hazed daze to witness your pathetic attempts to work your fingers over yourself.

only, he doesn’t tell you to stop.

he just... watches. and then smiles, squeezes out what can only be described as a broken whine, and tilts his head back once more, relinquishing all control of his body over to you. the scene divulging into a chorus of mumbled words, fuck and please and yes becoming the only word yunho knows, the only three you hear.

only as he cums does jeong yunho regain that bit of self-control he’s lost, ripping your mouth off him- a stuttered mumble of i wanna paint that pretty face- and erupting in a mess of grunted moans, cock twitching in his palm as rope after rope of white, hot fluid shoots out of it. it’s messy, and disgusting, and sticky, marking the skin on your cheeks, nestling in your hair, dripping over your shut eyelashes.

the last drops land in your parted mouth as his grasp shakes and you regain the right to wrap your lips around his mushroomed tip.

lips stained in pearly white, cheeks and neck matching too. the throb of your neglected cunt, clenching itself around nothing but the mere thought of having jeong yunho stuff you full, break you in two and leave you spent.

the man in question is in a no better state, head thrown back and chest a heaving mess glistening with the shine of his own sweat. his mouth hangs open, near heaving in breaths of air and his hands, adopting a mind of their own, grip harder in your hair and hold you firmly in place, tongue laving over his sensitive tip, pushing him closer and closer to the ledge of overstimulation.

“fuck- uh, fucking look at you,” sweet voice, foul words. two fingers drag over your cheek, coating themselves in the sticky substance he’s painted you in. “drooling all over me.”

he’s right, you are drooling. down your chin, an uncomfortable damp coat covers your overheating skin as you continue to stretch your lips around his length, ready to rip another thigh-shuddering orgasm out of the man.

yunho grants you no such pleasure.

instead, a grip tugs back on your hair and, before you can feebly attempt to catch your fleeing breath, he’s pulling you up into his lap, straddling you across the well-defined muscles of his thigh. those big, capable hands he pushes himself through pools, and rivers, and all other bodies of water manipulate your limbs however he likes, a rag-doll free for him to toy with for as long as he sees fit.

“yun-” you don’t even manage to say his name properly, not when he grinds you down into his lap, smothering his tanned skin in your juices. the friction runs straight for your pulsing clit and you’re rendered to sinking into his welcoming arms, head collapsing into the crook of his neck, parted lips panting up a storm against his sweated skin.

“that nice for you, angel?” the soft words, the rough hands, the perfect roll of your hips. you feel like you could sob, break apart completely. yunho tracing a hand up the curve of your spine and soothing his long fingers over a knot in you back doesn’t help your case. “bet it is. little bit of release to all that tension you’ve been feeling, yeah?”

you think you nod.

it’s hard to tell.

sparks fly within your loins, heating you from the inside out. yunho, at some point, has wound his fist into the tresses of your hair, nails scrapping along your scalp. it’s pleasurable, all over, soothing you into a state of utter relaxation, a being with no purpose other than to take whatever this mass of warmth and muscles and width offers you.

his hand makes a fist and gently tugs, forcing a whine out of you as you’re faced with the bright lights once more. traces of his own cum stain the very place your face had lay. it’s erotic to see, drying up your tongue with a need to lick it clean.

“no, no, focus, right here,” a single finger taps at your cheek, followed by the tilting of your chin that forces you to stare back at the hungry eyes of jeong yunho. “eyes on me. want a front row seat to watching your eyes roll back.”

god, he’s filthy, and delicate, and that just makes him all that more filthy.

swiping his digits through the remnants of his sticky cum, he makes sure you’re staring right back at him as those same fingers snake their way down between your grinding bodies and burrow themselves deep in your soaked heat. shallow pumps of his hand fuck his cum-coated fingers deeper, long and lithe enough he barely needs to move to have you feeling him all over, everywhere.

by the time he curls them, pressing against that spongy wall, you’re just about ready to cry.

“think she’s gonna cum,” oh god, no, why must he remind you of your audience? why does it no longer frighten you to have eyes watching you be defiled but, rather, have you clenching around him tighter, chasing that fever-like ecstasy the man means to deliver? “she’s gripping my fingers so tight- shit, almost makes me wanna bust my load just thinking how warm her pussy would feel round my cock.”

“don’t let her cum,” you vow, some day, to wring the neck of park seonghwa. “just cause she’s gone all cockdrunk doesn’t mean she’s earnt-”

“shut up, hwa,” the boy’s thumb pokes up and you can’t help the way you grind down into it, smothering your clit in whatever pressure you can get. “pretty baby’s more than earned it. stop being bitter that i’m the one who’s gonna give her it.”

give you it, he does.

three fingers deep, the cocktail of your wetness mixing with his cum-cated digits aiding the ebb and flow of his rhythm, jeong yunho has your toes curling, eyes rolling, thighs shaking. you blackout, for only a moment, lost in the wilderness of pleasure.

the aftershocks are barely kicking in when you’re suddenly ripped away from yunho’s hold. the sounds of your beating heart and heaving chest muffle the disgruntled exchange of words between the swim-team, inhibiting your ability to stay clued-in on the events that surround you. all you know is that when your body meets the bench once more, on all wobbly fours, jeong yunho no longer sits tall and proud.

a sharp sting hits your rear- a smack, that echoes in the empty space of the swimming hall. the only appropriate response is the shriek you let out, twisted in your own conflicting emotions of pain, and pleasure, and painful pleasure. a second smack meets the other cheek. this time, there’s no doubt a wanton whine escapes you.

“since the rest of them can’t take orders,” you’d already known it was seonghwa whose hands were suddenly all over you, pinning you in a position of submission. the sound of his grandiose voice sends a shiver of anticipation down your spine, top to tail. “i’ll have to do it myself.”

with no word of warning, he smooths his hands down the globes of your ass, teases the crease of skin where your inner thigh meets your dripping heat, and fucks two whole fingers into your sensitive core. knuckles deep, they sit still upon initial intrusion, basking in the warmth of you and coating themselves in the essence from an orgasm you’ve yet to even fully recover from and the cum yunho’d scooped off your own face.

then, at last, when your nails dig marks into the wood below, he curls them a come-hither motion.

with shame painted on your skin, you toss your head back and release an inhumane cry, eyes hazily gazing up at the horrendous white lights above. “oh god!”

“not quite. i do appreciate the flattery though,” there’s no need to glance over your shoulder to know that pompous, trust-fund baby is wearing the most earth-shattering smirk, some stupid strand of his perfectly groomed hair dangling over one of his eyes, like some 90s heartthrob boy-band member. you do it anyway.

park seonghwa is an unfairly attractive man, sporting a beauty so ethereal it almost makes you angry.

that anger seems to dampen the wetter he gets you.

his touch is slow, but by no means is it gentle. calculated and malevolent, he plays with your insides like they’re nothing but the strings to your puppet. a curl of his fingers and one of your hands shoots forward. the torturously slow pace that he pumps his digits in and out, and your jaw falls slack. his thumb bumps and grinds against your throbbing clit, and your elbows give out, sending you crashing face-first down onto the bench.

his free hand presses down on your lower back, bending you deeper, hiking your ass up higher in the air. and, at first, you think you’re imagining it, that trickle of warmth against your other entrance, believing it nothing but a trick of your melting brain.

you’re who-knows how many hours deep in a whirlwind of pleasure and penetrative stares, people have been driven to the brink of insanity over far less in the past.

but then seonghwa’s fingers leave your cunt, warm and wet trails following their journey over your skin. there’s no imaginative mind great enough in this universe to conjure up that initial shock to feeling how he prods and pokes at your puckered hole, lubricating it with the dirty mixture of both you and yunho’s cum and his very own spit.

the tip of his pointer finger ventures onward first, breaking through the surface of your tight muscles in a shallow intrusion.

the feeling has you frozen, frightened, intrigued. eyes widening, moans dying, pussy pulsating in an empty need.

“don’t go getting shy on us now, spitfire,” the collective language he uses brings back the weight of all the boys’ eyes on you. hesitantly, you angle your face off the bench, and regret it the instant you meet the brown comfort of his eyes. “fun’s just starting. ain’t that right, san?”

a tense energy takes over the large room, with san’s shoulders tensing, and yunho’s feet fidgeting, and wooyoung’s cheeks blushing. seonghwa seems impervious to the shift, whether voluntarily or not, and instead invites himself to further exploring the limits of your body.

he’s kind enough to spare a bit of care into the way his finger sinks deeper into your unexplored hole. another dribble of his hot saliva lands messily onto you, aiding the slip and slide of his hand. two, or three, or four strokes of his finger and you’re submitting to the intrusion, hips rutting higher and presenting yourself more to the man.

“come here,” the command calls over your body and, at first, you think its aimed at you. so you try scooting further back, only to be halted by seonghwa speaking once again. “yeah you, choi. come get under her.”

for the first time since this all began, you’re on the precipice of saying no.

they’d listen, all of them. wouldn’t push you, pressure you or force you to keep going, not if you truly voiced your negation. even park seonghwa, as big an arsehole as he may be, would have no qualms ending his fun and agreeing to never speak of this again.

and it’s not that you don’t want choi san under you. far from it, as you’ve already made pretty clear earlier, thighs his personal ear-warmers while his tongue delved deep for your honey-suckle glory. you’re hardly uncomfortable at the thought of him under you, chest rising repeatedly in frantic breaths and legs bent at the knee to give him just the right leverage to fuck up into your messy cunt-

it’s not till he’s three feet away from you, hands fidgeting by his side, eyes looking anywhere but you and your compromising position, and the world’s most obnoxiously boner-strained tent in his swimming gear that realisation washes over you. you’re hesitating because of him, because of his possible discomfort.

what if he wants to say no? what if he doesn’t want to get under you? what if his eyes will never look into your own again, too shocked and disgusted by all the things you’ve let be done to you? by his own team-mates/rivals, too?

hell, you’ve shocked yourself even, never in a million years had you pictured a day you’d be at the mercy of some rich prick, overdressed for every occasion and looking like a vogue-cover-model reject. but when he’s edging another finger into the already-tight squeeze of your ass, and pushing your buttons just enough to nudge you towards an edge that never seems to arrive, how could you ever dream of being anywhere else?

a hand touches your cheek.

soft. tender. it takes the extra time to soothe the pads of its fingers against your burning cheek.

“you feeling okay?” san’s quiet tone, meant only for you, is enough to move you to near-tears. you crave his hug. the position you find yourself in only allows you to reach out and grasp at where his knee bends as he crouches down to your level. it’s all the same, san knows. san understands. his own hand lands on top of yours, messily threading digits.

“she’s literally stuffed with another man’s cum and you’re worried about her? well aren’t you just the sweetest.” a cheap remark from seonghwa.

san purposefully ignores it, and everything about the man, instead choosing to keep his focus on what matters.

you.

“think you could make some room for me down there?” your nose wrinkles at his choice of words.

his giggle echoes.

“no, no, not... like that,” he guides you as he talks, grip moving to your shoulders and coaxing you up into a seating position. somewhere along the way, seonghwa’s hands leave you. he doesn’t stray too far, however, and your back soon collides against his chest. “here, pretty. want you to make space for me down here.”

within seconds, choi san’s back in his rightful place: splayed out beneath you, body fit snug between your parted legs and hair an unruly, sweated mess against his forehead.

no clothing sits between you both, blessing you with the mouthwatering drag of his cock through your folds. hard, and red, and leaking at the tip, a slight curve to the right, dribbling precum against his well-toned stomach. you’re biting your lip before you fully register your own thoughts, body a mind of its own as you grind down onto him.

control is limited and fleeting, that of which seonghwa reminds you without uttering so much as a word. instead, he clamps a harsh grip down on either side of your hips, rucks you up to where he needs you and guides you down onto san’s cock.

it’s thick, imposing and something that seonghwa blesses you no time to ease into things. instead, you’re slammed down, san buried to the hilt inside of you.

“hey there,” delicate fingers skim up the tense muscles in your thigh and find pleasure in delivering a teasing tickle to your sides. “come here often?”

the cheeky grin, the double entendre, the way san looks so goddamn proud of himself for saying it. you can’t help it, you wind up giggling uncontrollably.

wrong choice. bad idea. danger zone.

san contorts in pain, and lust, and something else you’ve never seen behind his eyes before, hissing through his teeth like some feral cat. his eyes match that of a feline too. “you trying to squeeze my dick off or something?”

you compose yourself upon the reminder of that san can feel you tensing around him, pull in a deep breath and find your voice again, at last. “or... something.”

maybe you’re a little out of breath. maybe you’re a little hoarse. it doesn’t seem to matter to the boy below, his only response being to cant his hips up and lick at the fire burning in your insides.

“you two are disgusting,” once again, park seonghwa wins gold in the nobody-asked-for-you-bum-ass-opinion olympics. let’s see if he’ll continue his winning streak and go for gold in the hypocrite-athon too!

the hands on your sides begin you guide you, with seonghwa squeezing his perfectly manicured nails into your plush skin and bouncing you down onto san. up, down, up and down, repeated strokes like the ones their hands deliver each time they breach the surface.

it’s easy, this pleasure. it’s a gift, hand-delivered by two god-like men that sandwich you between them- one a mass that fills you, the other a weight that controls you. liberating in every sense, you can’t help the way your head rolls back to find purchase on one of seonghwa’s shoulders, completely melting into the ways he winds you over san.

“shit, yes, you feel,” san’s no better than you, mouth agape and hands unsteady as they trace every inch of skin they can reach: the dimples of your back, the swell of your breasts, the hood of your clit. his hips are the only steady thing about him, not a falter in the way they grind up to kiss your dripping pussy with his cock. “so good. so warm, tight. love it.”

a hand curls round your front, travels up between your breast and over your sternum. it settled for a grip a round your throat, no pressure applied, it simply exists against your windpipe, a silent threat.

“look what you do to him, hmm,” a squeeze around your neck. seonghwa’s warm breath fans against your ear, taunting you. “look what you’re doing to them.”

through your glossed-over gaze, you trail your way past the sight of san and all his captivating beauty, settling instead on the equally erotic, not-at-all surprising image that stands just past where his head rests at the edge of the wooden bench.

a sweaty wooyoung, bent at the waist and whining up a storm, while a far more composed yunho pounds his hips into the boy’s arse.

your walls clench and san whimpers, a string of curses and pleads leaving him.

“think you’re finally ready for me?” the devil on your shoulder- at your back, more truly,- smirks into your skin, careless enough to not even feign it being anything but a rhetoric question. ready or not, park seonghwa is going to finally get his own fill of the thrill, his own satisfaction, beyond mere observation and controlling.

the spill of your own wetness slips down your thighs as san continues to fuck himself deep. it doesn’t travel far as seonghwa coats himself in you, wetting his fingers before they slip back inside your ass. a few generous, tempting pumps into your ring of muscles, fingers spreading a little further apart each time, till he decides that’s enough, he’s ready, you’re ready.

the unbuckling of a belt.

an unzipping of trousers.

trousers bunched down muscled thighs.

the first cut may be the deepest, but you highly doubt it’s as deep as seonghwa feels feeding his cock into your arse, stretching you apart to make way for him. a part of you feels like it can’t breathe, impaled on both these men who sit so deep inside you, you fear you’ll feel the ghost of their touch for weeks to come.

but what does it matter, really, when seonghwa pulls you back against him and whispers filth against your ear?

this is all you’re good for. cock-drunk whore. gonna let us cum inside?

and san’s coaxing you down to trail his mouth over your chest, the tongue flicking over your nipple a terrible juxtapose to his crooning words?

taking it so well, baby. so tight, and perfect, and god. ‘s that what baby needs, huh, for me to touch her little clit?

the two men find a rhythm, a synchronised routine to how they pull and push you around. their thrusts ebb and flow, no moment existing where you sit empty. they treat your body like they treat the pool, swimming through your waves of pleasure and effortlessly advancing to the finishing line, the winning stroke. then, san’s hand meets your cheek and your thoughts are dragged underwater, muffling the sounds of everyone else- the shlickt sound that echoes with each inch of cock fucked into you, the high-pitched whimpers of a fucked out wooyoung, the slapping of skin against skin- as he pulls you in for a kiss.

it’s a hungry one, all teeth and tongue and swollen lips. you pull away more breathless than before and fighting back a big dopey grin, toes curling as the swell of one of their cocks hits a nice spot inside you, body too on fire to know just exactly where the new wave of heat is coming from.

“h-how d’you do it, hm?” it’s almost a whisper, something meant only for your ears, yet you hear him loud and clear, voice stuttering off in a mess of whines and moans. “still got that pretty-girl smile, even while getting fucked silly.”

it almost makes you shy, till you remember what you’re doing and who you’re doing it with. you settle for a quick, short answer. mostly because you fear you’re losing the ability to think in full-sentences, much less speak one out loud. “can multitask.”

like your own words are the key to pandora’s box, your eyes widen, and your mouth dries, and your heart reels as a new desire burrows itself somewhere between the parts of you owned by san and the parts owned by seonghwa. the desire makes room for more, for someone more, and, without much chance for second-thoughts or hesitation, you find what little stability you can manage with one hand pressing down onto san’s toned chest and reach forward with your free hand.

fingers, light as a feather, curl around wooyoung’s solid shaft. the man’s hips stutter at the unexpected contact, eyes flying open to glance down in time to watch you reach out your tongue, licking up the droplets of precum that threaten to spill from his mushroomed tip.

“please, god, please!” he’s beyond the point of sense, poor baby, struggling to keep up with yunho’s hips’ repeated slamming into his tight ass. so, you can’t really blame him or shame him for the way he hastily rips his hand through your hair, tugging your mouth as far down his cock as the angle allows.

a few hairs rip from your skull in his grip. you reward him with a pleasant hum, moans muffled with the mouth-full he’s providing you.

“shit- look at that,” seonghwa pipes up from behind you, the motion of his hips never faulting or failing as he continues to take part in the filthiest three-way tango known to man, hands bouncing you down to meet each raise of san’s hips, plundering the other man’s cock deep, deep, deep, till he’s kissing your cervix and you’re seeing stars before your eyes. “should cup youngie’s- fucking christ- his balls, san, cup ‘em.”

you’re vaguely aware of his compliance, hand lifting off whatever part of you it was touching- your nipple, your hip, your jaw, it’s hard to tell when you feel like san’s everywhere, all over you, part of you- to graze the set of well-groomed spheres that threaten to slap your chin each time wooyoung thrusts forward.

barely two seconds, hardly any pressure against them, and the youngest of the four is nearly in tears, wailing and begging over broken whines that it’s too much, can’t take it, don’t stop.

there’s a ringing in your ear. because everything is becoming too much: wooyoung in your mouth, san rutting up into you and seonghwa’s hands clawing and pulling your body back into each of his overpowered thrusts. the boy in front of you is the first to fall apart, twitching in your mouth and, without a warning, choking you on the cum he shoots down your throat. a hand pulls you back, just enough to paint your face in the final drops released from wooyoung.

one of the other men is next, a string of curses and grunts filling the air. there’s a new stickiness between your legs, gooey white staining your skin. it’s all building up, and up, and up, until you topple over and are sent reeling into wave after wave of blinding pressure, toes cramping up and muscles spasming as you shoot off into another astral field, creaming around san and chocking seonghwa’s cock.

you don’t register the release of your hips nor the crash-down of your body. one moment, you’re pressed back against seonghwa, mouth dropped open in a silent scream for merciless pleasure, and the next you’re cradled in san’s warm embrace, a crooning tone to the way he hushes and calms you, unheard i got yous, and did so good for us, babys, and just let me hold yous falling on deaf ears.

for a moment in your own history, time ceases to exist.

there’s no ticking of the large clock on the wall, reminding you of how long ago your shift had ended. there’s no thoughts of your plant friend drying out in the staleness of your room, desperately awaiting you to revive it with some h2o. there’s no consequences awaiting your actions, no shame to be feared and leaving you unable to look any of the four swimmers in the eye ever again.

instead of being crashed against choi san’s body, a mixture of his, yours, and several other people’s bodily fluids serving as the adhesive that keeps you stuck together in your mess, you’re floating in space, not quite alive but not quite dead, just there.

nerves tingling, body aching, mind switched off.

four, or five, or ten, maybe even fifteen minutes pass by the time you regain focus on your surroundings.

your name, whispered. it’s his voice that pulls you back, sweet and soft and oh so like the san you’re used to, the one that sends teasing winks your way when your eyes happen to meet his in class, and the one who has the prettiest notes you’ve ever seen, a colour-scheme for his every highlight and the cutest of doodles to go along with the topic on the paper.

the one who’s hand is currently brushing through your hair, fingers careful as they catch on the tangles near the split ends.

“hmm,” you swear you want to say his name, say more than that, but there’s an ache in your jaw that hinders you from even attempting, your voice-box likely having taken a beaten in the throws of your pleasured moans.

“you okay there?” he giggles over the end of the sentence, and you feel your slowing heartbeat stutter at the sound.

he feels you nod into the crook of his neck and lets his free hand find perch against your hip, moments before giving it a light squeeze.

he’s warm, and pleasant, and soft.

and moving you both into an up-right position, hands splaying flat against your back and keeping you secure against him, your legs wrapping around his slender waist. you drift off again, between time and space, and come to at the first drop of water that lands on your back.

one drop, two drops, and then a downpour of heat crashing onto both of you.

you can tell from the colour of the pinkish tiles along the communal shower floor that you’re in the women’s changing room, and mentally note to thank him, even if he’s not aware, for bringing you somewhere you won’t have to shamefully stumble out of in the nude, your change of clothes safely tucked away within one of the lockers.

“i’m gonna put you down now, okay?” he speaks so gently that it overwhelms you, answering him only with an affirmative nod of your head.

neither of you speak while he lathers shampoo into your hair, nor when he’s dragging his soap covered hands over the cum that stains your skin, wiping it away and leaving nothing but suds where the liquid once was. he doesn’t speak while covering your eyes with his hands, blocking the sting of the shampoo. you don’t speak when you inch closer, head falling forward to rest against his chest.

when he does eventually speak again, both of your fingertips are wrinkled and bodies are clean, the water of the shower serving as nothing but a way to keep warm.

“you’re, uh, not” the echo of his voice in the empty lockers feels so much more intimate than how his cries sounded by the pool. “doing anything on wednesday, right?”

too lazy to move, you angle your face to stare up at him from his chest and take a moment to just stare, look at the way his hair is sticking to his forehead, at the way his eyes are back to being wide, at the way the marks you’d littered along his neck are becoming more prominent.

“how’d you know?” your question confirms his own, and a tenseness you’d not noticed melts off of his shoulders.

“wednesday is race day. you never work race days.”

it’s such an odd detail to have noticed, and it’s making you question everything you thought you knew about your relationship with san. do acquaintances remember each other’s schedules? do acquaintances bring each other soothing teas when they notice the other developing flu symptoms? do acquaintances waste time pulling faces at each other in lectures they should probably be paying attention to.

“i’m not taking part in the race this time, by choice. my grades are good enough, don’t need to worry about winning some championship to keep my education.” san is speaking unpromptly at this point, rambling in a way you’ve only seen him do when he’s nervous, or excited, or both. “it’s okay if you don’t want to, or you have better things to do or places to be! but, i was just thinking, maybe you’d wanna spend some time with me? there’s this medieval market down on main-street, it’s meant to be really cool, and i just think it would be even cooler to go with you? but, again, you don’t have to. forget it, actually, i’m being stupid and assuming you’re not doing something with your friends or your-”

the kiss you interrupt him with is far more innocent than the one you shared earlier, no hands rushing to touch and tongues desperate to taste, just two sets of lips moving as one.

you pull back and he chases after you, lips landing another peck before you’re grasping his cheek in your hold and forcing him back.

“i think you could have asked me to come help clean your apartment for you and i’d still say yes, just to spend my day with you,” you say, and he smiles as if on instinct, unable to stop it even if he tried.

“really?”

“really.”

“good, cause i already bought us two tickets and i really didn’t wanna have to go alone.” there’s drops of water dancing on his eyelashes, and laziness in his every movement, and you’re both still very much naked, but none of that seems to matter when he gives you another peck, like he’s awakened an addiction and your lips are now his favourite vice. “but, now that you mention it, my apartment could do with some cleaning. and i bet you’d look amazing in a maid outfit.”

a slap echoes in the showers.

“hey! don’t worry, i’ll be wearing a matching one!”

#ateez smut #park seonghwa smut #jeong yunho smut #choi san smut #jung wooyoung smut #ateez oneshot

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