~lia~

Jisung's really pretty all fucked out. 

He's always pretty, Y/N thinks, but he's especially pretty, all sweaty and pouty, dripping down his thighs like he's the one in heat. The brief time Y/N spent with him during his heat in Osaka, she'd been enamored with just how alluring he'd become. Every single bit of him suggested he was meant to draw an alpha in, from the glow of his skin, the rosy hue of his cheeks, the wide, needy eyes. Even if he was sort of bratty, he smelled so good that it didn't matter. He'd slicked all over the place too, so drippy that she had to sneak out of bed and change her bottoms once (because his preferred way of cuddling was completely latched around her). 

And that was without the prospect of a knot. Even in her heat brain, she could recognize that he'd look very nice when he was on one. Which is why she was doing what she was doing right now. 

After eating, Y/N had fallen asleep, and so did Seungmin. Seungmin had come in after Minho sent him because he'd been pacing outside the door anxiously. Apparently that's something he used to do all of the time, when they were all still new and freshly presented, but he'd long since stopped. Now, with an unmated omega in the nesting room, it must have been making him anxious. Y/N feels bad about it -- there's no situation where she'd want to make him uncomfortable in his home. At the mention of the situation, though, and her crestfallen face, Seungmin had crawled into the nest with her permission and slid his fingers into the slots of hers. 

"Not a bad anxious," he told her softly, "I just wanted to be in here, but I didn't know if I was allowed." 

Y/N had pouted her mouth, forcing her brain to work, "Why -- why wouldn't you be allowed? In. . .in your room. . .in your pack's nesting room?" 

Seungmin looked at her incredulously, "Because it's your room right now." He told her, "And I didn't want to impose." 

Changbin had pet the back of her head soothingly, "Seungminnie is just extra respectful of our mating cycles. He only likes to come in the room if he's explicitly invited, but he didn't want to push you to invite him. He also couldn't stand to be doing nothing while you were in here." He filled in the gaps for her, "He likes to feel useful, our sweet puppy." 

Bashful, he looked off to the side, "Shut up, Changbin." 

"What? What did I do?" 

So Y/N held his hand extra tight, and Seungmin rubbed their wrists together to scent her, and then she promptly fell asleep. Full-bellied, warm, cradled by Changbin behind her, Seungmin lying next to her, holding her hand, and Jisung with his head on Seungmin's belly and his leg wrapped around her calves. He even had his fingers hooked in the waistband of the underwear they put her in, though he made no move to do anything. Y/N thinks he might just be doing it for comfort; somehow, she doesn't know (she'd heard something about him needing a comfort hole during his heat, whatever that means). He'd asked if it was okay and Y/N nodded. . .she didn't mind it, really. 

When she woke up, it was to soft whines. Through bleary eyes she saw that Seungmin was still sleeping across from her, their hands still interwoven. He must have been sleepy too, she thought, as she shifted slightly. Upon her movement, she was instantly met with Jisung's mouth fit around Changbin's cock. She couldn't see much of it, but she knew it was thick, probably jaw-sore. There was already a knot at the base. 

"Sorry, aegi," he murmured, "Hannie was having trouble being quiet, so I gave him something to do with his mouth." 

Jisung looked like he'd been doing it for a while, the way his eyes seemed to glaze over, drool sliding from the corners of his mouth, making a mess in the soft curl of hair at the base. One hand was still tucked in her bottoms, while the other was flat against Changbin's tummy. At the sound of moving, she twisted so that she could get a better look. She felt no beads of jealousy welt through her -- she thinks she's supposed to, or something, when another omega is near a knot that's "meant" for her. Y/N doesn't mind sharing, though. She's always been really, really good at sharing. 

With a grunt, Jisung slid off, strings of drool and precum sticking to his soft, plushy mouth. "Babyyy," he smiled at her, "I -- I got his knot ready for you." 

Y/N wanted it. Her walls clench around nothing, and she felt so miserably empty, but. . .but he got the knot ready. Didn't he deserve to feel it? She could smell how badly he wanted it -- and she could bet that his slick was staining his sweatpants right now. It had probably soaked right through. She blinked, nuzzled her face into Bin's soft, full chest, before opening her mouth and digging her teeth into it. He gasped, the arm around her tightening. "Ow! Baby, why?" He whined, and Y/N reached for the bottom of his shirt, peeling it up. 

"Jisung gets this knot," she answered. 

Both of them made disgruntled sounds, "But --" 

"Binnie will give me another," she cut them off, assured, confident in his ability to knot twice relatively quickly -- Felix had told her that once. That his knot doesn't last for very long, but he can knot multiple times in an hour. Y/N knew she wouldn't have to wait too long, which made it more bearable. "Right after. But you get this one first."

Jisung pouted, "That just doesn't seem fair." 

"It is." 

Changbin chuckled, still holding her tightly. Y/N's arms craned a little so that she could keep holding Seungmin's hand, but her cheek was pressed to his chest, and his arm was beneath hers, wrapped around her torso. "She's strong-willed," he murmured, "She's worse than you." 

Y/N is resolute, and once they know she isn't backing down, she watches keenly as Jisung crawls into Changbin's lap. He discarded his bottoms and nearly tossed them off the bed, but Y/N grunted, shook her head, and pointed at the foot of her nest. He carefully placed it at the foot of the bed, and when he did, he had to bend over just enough to show his glistening thighs. They're pretty -- they look soft. Y/N wondered what her fingers would feel like inside of them, just as she wondered what they'd be like inside of Minho, or of Felix, or of Seungmin. Was it as warm and wet as she could be? Would they like it if she was inside of them in any way? 

Y/N took Changbin's hand from the arm wrapped around her and drew it toward her mouth. She slid a couple of fingers in to keep her satiated until Jisung was knotted, her gaze fixed on where he sat on trembling knees and rocked back. The head of his cock must slap against his hole because they both gasp and moan with a jerk, before Jisung reaches back, and carefully, slowly, guides Changbin inside of him. 

They both moan, and Y/N got wetter -- if that's possible -- and she suckled on the fingers between her lips, against her tongue. Changbin used his free hand to grab Jisung's waist and hold him steady as he sank down, just above the swell. "Fuck," he gritted out, "Tight, Sung." 

"Sorry," he sounded whiny, a little grumbly -- Felix had told her once that Jisung is sweet and a little pathetic when he's cock drunk, "S'cos I have an audience." 

"Yeah, our little voyeur. She's like Channie-hyung." 

It's hot to watch. They moan and grunt, and Jisung leans down and kisses Y/N over the fingers in her mouth, so their tongues are all tangled in between them. His hand rested on her thigh, fingers dug into the flesh and squeezing, crying out when the head of Changbin's cock must be hitting his prostate. It's good, Y/N thinks, it's so good, and she is excited to know what it will feel like. How it will stretch her out, leave her a little gaped. Jisung bounces on it like he woke up desperate for it, and holds onto his right pec to stop it from jiggling the way it was with each move. If Changbin's grip weren't so tight on her, she'd lean in and put his nipple in her mouth. He seemed like the type who would be really sensitive to that.

It doesn't take him long to cum, and it turned out that Jisung is a lot less bratty when he's stuck on a knot. He moaned; his cock throbbed and jumped one, two, three times before he started to cum untouched all over Bin's belly and Y/N's thigh as soon as Changbin came in him, knot locking them together. She helped herself to some of what splatted on their skin, while Jisung slumped, trying to catch his breath, but also trying not to flop down on Changbin like she knew he probably wanted to. 

"Shouldn't the one in heat be the one on the knot?" Seungmin's voice, groggy, heavy with sleep, came from behind her, and the grip on her hand tightened. "I'm telling Minho hyung you're stealing knots." 

Jisung whined, "I am not," he shook his head. "Y/N told me -- she said she wanted me to! I would never take a knot meant for her." 

Seungmin, diligently, unwrapped her from Changbin's arm and slowly pulled Y/N into his chest. He is not the most cuddly, but when he wants to, he really wants to, so Y/N goes easily. His chest is pressed against her back -- Seungmin is slim, but his shoulders are broad, so when his arm wraps around her body and his left hand rests against her inner thigh, she feels small in comparison. He pressed his nose against her nape and breathed in, just how Minho did, before continuing, "And that no good alpha just let him do it, huh?" 

Y/N thinks it's funny, hearing how similar Minho and Seungmin are in how they tease. Being between them in bed was probably a little stressful in a good way -- Y/N liked not knowing what would happen next. 

"Yah!" Changbin is loud, reaching for where Y/N had been stolen from him, "She asked for me to knot him!" 

"Yeah, blame the one who has heat brain, real mature." 

Y/N giggled, took Seungmin's free hand, and nuzzled into his palm -- his hands are big, just like Jeongin's -- she feels like she could disappear in them. "I did," she finally found her voice again, "I wanted. . .I wanted that. Bin will knot me soon." 

Seungmin sighed against her, softly, "Hm? Do you think he'll fit?" His fingers slid between her thighs. "You smell like Minho hyung back here." He murmured as a side note, "He gets really greedy when he scents his omegas."

Changbin hummed, reaching out for Y/N just as Seungmin fit his fingers between her thighs, the tips of them getting messy in the slick that spilled from her. "All our omegas smell like Minnie," he runs the pad of his thumb over her bottom lip, "Chan too. They're possessive, y'know? They don't want anyone going around thinking they can hit on us." 

They always include her so easily -- like it's the simplest thing in the world. Y/N knew, somewhere deep, deep in her brain, that they were only doing it for her heat's sake. To create this faux sense of ownership, like she was a piece of their pack, to soothe the ache of her very insides so wanting for it. Deep down, she knew it was fake, but she thinks she's allowed to revel in it for a while -- appreciate it. Pretend that Minho's scenting her because the pack omega doesn't want anyone getting any ideas about who she belongs to. That Felix is all over her because he wants her close, and Hyunjin held her so tightly and listened to her, because that's what alphas did for omegas that belonged to them. That Jeongin was sweet on her because she was his. Changbin and Jisung were staring at her with soft eyes, and their scents were so potent because they wanted her around all of the time. That Seungmin is holding her so close because he couldn't imagine not doing that for her during her heat. That when Chan comes home, he'll spread her out, and bite her neck, and claim her because she was pack, and she was his, which meant she was theirs. 

Ah, how nice that would be. Her eyelids fluttered when Seungmin slipped his fingers inside, legs shaking when he curled them expertly and nudged against the soft, gushy bundle of nerves inside of her. "How many times have you been stuffed? And you tighten right back up, don't you? You're made for this." There are kisses peppered against her scent gland; Seungmin's scent curled around her. Jisung reached out to grab her hip and dug his fingers into the flesh of it. 

"No fair," he fussed, wriggling and stirring a groan from Changbin, "I want to feel her too." 

"Hannie loves feeling inside," Seungmin murmured low, his voice vibrating against her throat. The heat inside of her swells, burning through her, coiling in her lower belly. Everything they do to her feels so good; she can't believe she's ever had to go without it. "He'll want a turn after you've been knotted. S'that okay?" Y/N nodded, drooling -- she kept meaning to swallow, but it's hard to, when Changbin's fingers crept into her mouth. Seungmin's own speed up inside of her, three deep and stretching all the while. His knuckles dipped past her walls, tugging at her entrance, paying no mind to how she squeezed them between her thighs. "Yeah? He smells good, doesn't he? Him and Changbin together smell really, really good. You'll be filled up with both of them soon. I bet you'll love that. And you'll love when everyone comes in here, won't you? When Innie comes back, Yongbok and Hyunjin wake up. When Minho comes after finishing up his routine. When Channie comes home. . ." 

A whine left her as she trembled through another orgasm, just from his fingers, and his scent, and the way he talked to her like he's sharing a secret. He giggled against her nape and subtly rutted his hard-on against her bum, before he took his fingers out of her. First, he brought them up to his own mouth -- she could hear the sound of his tongue slicking against them. But when Jisung whined, he shared -- holding it out for him to have too. 

Which led them here. How Y/N knows that Changbin's knot has settled is that Jisung scrambles out of his lap and presses up against her. She squeaks when he pulls Changbin's fingers from her mouth to push their lips together, whining and whimpering as he flutters his tongue in between them. Changbin coos at them, like he's used to this display of omega love -- he probably is, honestly. Y/N could only imagine how often the omegas must do this with each other. Jisung is sliding around her like he'd morph into her body if he could, and it doesn't feel like it's his first time wanting to be this close. He purses his lips around her tongue and sucks like he might want to devour her too. Should they melt together? Y/N thinks they could, if they tried hard enough.

Eventually, he parts from her, but not of his own will. Y/N followed to see Seungmin's fingers curled up in his hair, tugging him back. "She needs to get her knot ready," he murmurs, "You'll have her soon. Want to warm me?" 

It's through a lot of whining and some coaxing that they do a handoff; Jisung for Y/N and Y/N for Jisung. Changbin pulls her over, atop of his body, and her thigh lands between his legs. His softened cock is pressing against her skin, and she shivers, feeling all too hollow and empty once more. Changbin's lips are a perfect pout, pretty and small when his mouth is closed. Y/N latches onto them without thinking much about it, kissing and pecking, sighing against him. It's easy to melt into him too, Y/N thinks; all she wants is to sink into his skin and live there right now. He's warm, and so is she, but it isn't bad -- it's comforting, and being in his arms is cozy, even though she starts to slide down his body. 

Y/N doesn't keep her teeth to herself. The further into her heat she gets, the less she finds herself caring about where her teeth are digging. There's always this ache in her gums, to gnaw and chew -- her friends joke that she was supposed to be an alpha but some wires got crossed. She's always been bite-y. 

And Changbin had muscle and flesh all for her to sink her teeth in. His chest was full; some parts of it were firm, and some parts were soft, but all was the same when she bit down on him. He squawks, gasps, his hand rests on the back of her head, but he lets her do as she wishes. Over his shoulders, down his chest, she pulls his nipple into her mouth and bites around it too. It's plush there -- she can tell he didn't pump his muscles up or anything before coming inside. Y/N is going to pretend it's because he was so excited to see her that he had no choice. 

His nipples are sensitive, dusky little things that pebble against her tongue. The sun has been so prominent the last couple of days he's quite tan, his skin honeyed and pretty. Both him and Jisung looked like they'd been out in the sun for a while -- vaguely does she remember something about last week, them trying to run with Minho, hating it, something something something. How could she focus on that right now when the salt of his skin sits on her tongue? 

Her nose dips down against his sternum, trailing down, down, down to his belly. She sucks kisses there too, feels his hips twitch beneath her body, his hand steady on the back of her head. Y/N can hear Jisung's muffled whining again, and if she looked up, she had a feeling she'd see him with his mouthful. She'd bet money on it, even. But she can't look up yet, when she's nosing and kissing against Bin's soft stomach. Some of Jisung's cum is still there, cooled on his skin, but Y/N laps it up with his sweat and little traces of slick; she wondered how it got so high. 

There's the barest hint of fuzz making up a happy trail -- nobody's been as grown in as Felix's, but it's still enough to tickle the tip of her nose. She breathes in deep around the soft hair at the base of his cock, now starting to twitch back to life. Y/N skims her lips along where his knot would swell, her hands gripping his thighs tightly to keep herself at least a little grounded. It smells so much like him and Jisung down here; Y/N thinks she could get drunk off it. She feels a little lightheaded as he suckles at his knot, not swollen yet, but she knew where it was. 

The area was very sensitive, especially after already popping one, and now that Y/N is tonguing and sucking at it, Changbin moans high-pitched and reedy. His hips jerk up this time, a small gasp leaves his throat, and Y/N digs her fingers into his body. Y/N doesn't swallow her spit, allowing herself to drool and soak over the skin. 

He's growing beneath her tongue -- he's really good at getting hard again quickly. Y/N likes this; she files it away among all the other good things there are about Changbin. He's levelheaded and tenderhearted. He's kind and strong. He smells like spiced vanilla, and his giggle is cute. And his cock is thick and gets hard fast. 

Changbin is fully hard again in a little under four minutes. The tip is leaky, clear beads of precum pearl at the top and drip down the curve of his ruddy head. Y/N digs the tip of her tongue into his slit and tries not to shiver when his thighs twitch, squeezing around her just a little before he forces them to relax and fall outward again. It's salty, a little on the bitter side, but Y/N pulls the head in between her mouth and sucks on it because she needs every drop of it on her tongue and in her belly. 

"F-fuck," Changbin gasped, knees twitching again as Y/N curls her tongue against the crown. Even just the tip is such a mouthful that it makes her drool out the sides of her lips, mewling. She looks up and sees that Jisung is with his mouth full too, twisted around so that he sits to Seungmin's left, resting his head on his hip with Seungmin warmed in his mouth. He's positioned so he can watch her, and they lock eyes for a second -- Y/N flutters her eyes at him, and Jisung does it back. Seungmin is watching too, petting Jisung's head softly, threading his fingers through his sweaty hair. 

But Changbin isn't looking at her. When her gaze flutters over to the side, he's got his face hidden in his arm, with his head tilted up. Y/N huffed through her nose, brows furrowed. She doesn't know if her scent sours or not -- she could have pulled off and told him that she wanted him to look, or she could have waited for her scent to reach him and see if he figured it out. Why wouldn't he look at her? Was he pretending she was a different omega? She didn't mind sharing, but she did mind that he didn’t even want it to be her. Didn't he want her on his knot? Did he want Jisung back? But he'd said -- he'd said that he would give her the second knot. 

Y/N lets her teeth drag carefully along the sensitive tip. Changbin jerked, coughing out a startled sound, "Ah!" He exclaims, uncovering his face, "Baby-baby! Why? Your teeth --"

She slid off of him, strings of spit and precum fixed to her lips, pulling and stretching between her and his cock. Y/N's pouting, bottom lip wet, "You -- you won't look at me." She nuzzles against his shaft, her mouth kissing and sucking along the throbbing vein, "It's not good?" 

"No, no, no, baby," he reaches down, petting her head in a similar way that Seungmin pets Jisung, "It's so good, it's too good. If I -- if I look, I'll cum too early, is all. You look too pretty."

That was good enough an answer for her, before she pulled the spongy head of his cock back into her mouth. Seungmin chuckled when Changbin gave another throaty moan, but now his gaze didn't deviate from her. She can feel it burning onto her, even if she wasn't looking up at him to make sure. Her jaw stretches to accommodate the girth of him, but she can pull him further into her mouth than she has been able to take anyone else. His knot swells a little bit more -- Y/N likes the feeling of it against her lips. 

The drool pools out of her mouth, mixing with the precum and messing the pubic hair soft and feathered at the base of his cock. She wants to dig her nose in it, but she knew there was no way she could stretch her mouth that wide over his knot to do so. His balls sat full and heavy, tucked close to him. In her shared blowie of Minho, Jeongin had reminded her how much she loved sucking and licking on balls. So she pulls off, drags her top lip down the shaft to where he's swollen, and sucks one into her mouth. One of her hands held his cock up delicately while the other pressed against his soft, inner thigh, keeping him spread open. The thought of the earlier blowie makes her miss Jeongin and Minho -- she wishes they'd come back to the nest. She wants everyone in there, with her, to watch how well she can take this knot. 

"Okay, okay, okay," Changbin uses both of his hands to cradle her head, urging her up, "C'mon baby, need to stuff you with this fat knot, yeah?" 

Y/N lets him pull her up, crawling over the top of him, but instead of reaching back and sinking on him, she pouts, flopping her weight against his torso. She's tired -- she'd been ignoring it, but she's a little shaky, and there was a cramp twisting through her abdomen right now. They were nowhere near as bad as they are when she's alone, hence her being able to ignore them, but even then, they still hurt. She nuzzles into his chest, hoping that he'll get it without her having to convey the words to him. 

"My poor baby," his hand pets down the back of her head, "You're tired, hm? And hurting?" Changbin is careful and so gentle when he flips her around so that he is hovering above her. He presses a soft kiss to the tip of her nose, then either cheek, "Binnie will do all the work, okay?" 

Y/N is pleased, a little wriggly -- how nice is it to have someone be able to read her mind. Having to take care of so many omegas probably does that to someone, right? Being able to read minds seems like a common thing in this pack. 

The head of his cock eases in nice and slow. The girth of Changbin's cock is wider than what she's taken today, apart from the knots she's been getting, and even then -- Seungmin wasn't lying, she did tighten back up pretty quick. It was something that frustrated her at first, but then she learned to love the stretch, even when it would delay her getting knotted from the dildo. She'd spent tireless nights googling if it was normal, but all she came up with was that every omega was different. 

She whines, then trills a sound from deep in her chest. Changbin tucks himself just to where his knot is swollen, before his forehead tips down against her shoulder, breathing in a shaky breath. "Fuck me," he grumbles, trembling himself, using one arm to keep himself propped up and the other to pull her thigh around his hips. She gets the hint and wraps her other leg around him too, locking her ankles around his waist. 

"S'your first time in a pussy, hyung," Seungmin says from beside them, "How's it feel?" 

"Good, she feels good," his hand hadn't moved from her leg, squeezing again, "I -- just give me a second baby, I'll move, I just need -- need to catch my breath." 

Y/N is patient, because she's a good girl and she's always patient (she isn't, but she's deciding she is now). Jisung, who had slid away from Seungmin's cock, was pressing his face against her hip. His tongue stripes against her skin, tentative little strokes, almost like he was grooming her. Y/N had never experienced that before -- she wishes she could focus on it more, but she's throbbing and pulsing around Changbin's cock right now. All she can do is lower her hand down to his hair and scratch at his scalp how she would a puppy. He nuzzles against her like one too. 

When Changbin moves, he starts slow and has to stop again when she squeezes around him too tight. "Ah--just -- I need you to relax for me, yeah? Can you relax for Binnie?" 

Y/N nods, because she's a great listener, and forces her body to relax. It helps even more when Seungmin presses his wrist to her throat and scents her. Any tension she'd been holding is almost instantly alleviated from her muscles. "There you go," he murmurs, "Now the silly alpha won't cum too soon." 

This time when Changbin starts moving, he doesn't have to stop after just a few thrusts. His fingers dig into her thigh; the pinch of his nails feels good -- it reminds her of what his teeth might feel like in her body somewhere. Y/N would like that -- she wants someone to bite her so badly. It doesn't have to be a mating one, but the press of their teeth in her shoulder, on her thigh, on her hip. . she'd really like it. 

Changbin's thighs are thicker and stronger than she'd realized. His shorts are always pretty low, and he always wears loose pants so she has never gotten the full visual of them until today. The force of his pelvis and his upper thighs colliding with her is almost too much for her to handle. She reaches between them with the hand that isn't curled in Jisung's hair, finds his nipple, and presses her thumb into it. His hips stutter forward a little harder, and his knot catches at her hole -- they both moan, loud and high. Y/N rubs his nipple beneath her thumb, and he pushes their mouths together, his all pouty and soft. 

Seungmin curls closer when their lips part, and then takes a turn. Seungminnie likes kissing is the thought that Y/N's brain helpfully supplies to her. He likes kissing a lot more than he lets on -- he's come to kiss Y/N every night she's been here before he goes to bed, and it's never quite just a peck. It's soft, still, the way he flutters his tongue into her mouth and they keep going until both of their mouths are swollen and someone is cooing at them for being cute (namely Minho, Hyunjin, or Felix -- but Felix usually starts kissing her afterward or in between the cooing). They love their Seungmin, and they love when he's being sweet and affectionate, Y/N has found. They also love when he's being bratty and combative too. They just love him unconditionally, just as they love all of each other unconditionally.

Y/N so desperately longs for that sort of absolute love. If this heat is as close as she'd get to it, then she'd milk it for all that it's worth. 

Seungmin breaks away to breathe but presses kisses down her jaw, to her scent gland. Changbin's hips had started moving faster, like watching the two omegas was exciting him. Y/N whines; the slap of their bodies meeting is echoing in the room. Jisung is smushed between her body and Seungmin's, but he couldn't seem more pleased, still nuzzling into her side. His teeth nip at her every so often, like he wants to bite. Y/N wishes he just would. Y/N wishes all of them would bite her in some way. 

When Seungmin sucks on her sensitive scent gland and moans, vibrating up her throat, Y/N cums. It hits her hard and fast, and has her scrambling her heels against Changbin's bum. She grinds down against him, pressing him tight on her so that he couldn't stop again, and all but ensures that his knot slips into her. He cries out, once again clinging tightly to her, "Fuck, yeah," he murmurs, "S'it good, baby? All full of knot and kissing your omega?" 

Your. Hers -- yeah, Seungminnie is hers too. That's nice -- she likes the thought of them being hers. Y/N, frantically, finds Changbin's mouth too, smearing her lips over his pout, and he chuckles when she sucks the bottom lip into his, grinding his knot inside of her. 

"Mine," she murmurs, then turns to Seungmin, a grip still tight in Jisung's hair, "Mine too, mine, mine, mine." 

Changbin moans at that -- all of them moan at that. His knot, fully expanded now, is locked against her walls as he starts to cum. Throbbing while he empties into her, still grinding the whole time. It feels good -- she likes how warm it is, filling her up, how it strips up her walls, and she knows it will drip out of her after. She likes how pretty he sounds, how rumbly -- Changbin is a growler, she finds soon, especially when she doesn't let up on his nipples. He takes one of her wrists and pries it away from his chest, kissing into the middle of her palm before nipping at each one of her fingertips. Her brain is dried out -- there are no other thoughts but mine, mine, mine, mine, good, mine, warm, stretched. 

"All yours," he hums, "We're all yours, baby. Do you like that?" 

Her eyes bead up with tears -- she likes that so much -- too much. Y/N drags him closer, so that he isn't hovering over her body, and uses him like a weighted blanket. When she starts to purr, Changbin coos, nuzzling against her throat, scenting her fruitfully. 

So good, so nice, and all hers. 

. . .

Y/N wavers in and out of sleep for a while, beneath the warmth and weight of Changbin's body, the press of Jisung snoring at her side, and the feel of Seungmin playing with her fingers. If not for the sudden memory of Jisung wanting to go next, she probably would have slept for longer -- but she remembers, and it yanks her out of the sleepy haze she'd been in. Changbin wasn't inside of her anymore, but she knew, gravity-wise, his load was probably still in her. He was asleep next to her, cock softened against his hip. Jisung still sat curled up near her ribs, his leg twisted around hers. Seungmin wasn't in the nest anymore, and her heart yanked -- she'd wish he'd come back soon. 

She wakes Jisung up with careful fingers threading through his hair and whispers of his name. Once he blinks his eyes open, she reminds him, "Want -- want you in -- your turn." And it only takes him a couple of seconds to understand before he locks in. Jisung is already hard, somehow, whether it’s the heat pheromones in the room, sleeping in another nest, or a wet dream that he might have had. Maybe he'd never came earlier when Bin was fucking her. 

Whatever the reason, he tapped the head of his dick against her swollen folds and slid inside of her, smooth and easy. Jisung grumbles a soft sound, tucking his face in her neck. Everything is sleep muddled and slow. He doesn't even bother holding his body above hers; their torsos just slip together, touching every which place while he grinds into her, deeply. He's filling her up well -- all of them fill her up super well, and the curve of Jisung's prick makes sure he nudges against her g-spot with every thrust. The sounds made from her were a little embarrassing, loud and squelching from the previous load, but it seems to propel him forward. 

Y/N shakes through her orgasm, trembling like a leaf while he holds onto her tightly. She thinks she probably could have fallen asleep like that, especially when Jisung groans, and the spray of his cum starts painting her walls. But before sleep could come to her, there was a gentle knock on the door. 

It creaks open to reveal Minho, but just as he steps in, Felix and Hyunjin both tumble almost on top of each other to get back inside too. "My baby, I missed you." Felix sighs, like seeing her just brought him contentment, as if they hadn't spent the entire morning together. If Y/N had to guess the time, she would think it's somewhere around evening, so maybe it had been a couple of hours since they were in the room. Either way, Felix crawls into her nest and tugs her from beneath Jisung, who fusses but ultimately is grabbed by Changbin and pulled into a cuddle. Felix slides Y/N over to him while Hyunjin waits patiently for a spot between her thighs, before he splits them open and sinks down. 

"I'll clean you," he murmurs, "Bin and Sung are too messy." Y/N's still so sensitive she twitches, jolting when his tongue parts her folds, but he really is just cleaning her, delicate and diligent. 

"I sent Kim Seungmin to go get Chan," Minho announces, and it's only then she realizes that he has bottles of water in his hands. He hands Jisung and Changbin one (who sleepily takes it), and then he crawls into the nest too, kneeling over Hyunjin so he's to Y/N's right. He pops the cap open and holds it to Y/N's mouth, helping her drink while he brushes the hair from her face. "He wants you, jagi, but he's been gone all day, long enough that I know he's getting in his head. So we're going to make him think with his alpha brain and not his Channie brain. Sound good?" 

She nods, left eye closing when Felix pushes kisses all over her face, "All of us are g'na be in here too; he can't resist a cuddle pile. Or an orgy." Felix rubs his face against one side of her throat while Minho scents the other. He strokes his wrist against her before he leans in too, smearing a kiss over her eye. "Minnie is g'na fuck you while you're in Chan's shirt. He likes to watch first," fingers card through her hair, "And watching his head omega fuck an omega in heat, really, really gets him going." 

"Channie fucks like an animal if he's worked up enough," Changbin adds, still sleepy, but he's moved from shoving his face into the back of Jisung's neck to lying cheek to cheek with him, leg thrown over Jisung's hips. Everyone is in various states of nakedness, apart from Minho, who still has briefs on. This is as many of them that have been around her at once during her heat so far, and she feels so, so good like this. She'd never imagined she'd get to experience it, and that alone makes her want to beg them to bite her, mark her, mate her, make her theirs officially. She'd like it so much if they did. 

Hyunjin finishes cleaning her, but rests his head on the inside of her thigh. "Yeah," he agrees, "One time I accidentally pulled a muscle when he was riding me. It was crazy." 

"I almost ended up on Sex Sent Me to the ER during one of his ruts," Jisung tells her, finding the thigh Hyunjin wasn't leaning on and tucking his hand around it (he really did just like being close). 

Felix is still nuzzled against her throat, "But Channie's sweet," he murmurs, "He'll probably treat you like a flower 'cos he'll be too worried about hurting you. If you don't want that, you'll have to goad him a little, baby." 

Jeongin comes in through the partially opened door, a shirt in hand -- Y/N could tell immediately that it was Chan's -- she could smell it. "Make room for me, I haven't gotten to see her for hours." 

"That's your own fault," Felix teases, resting his cheek on the top of her head, his arm wrapped across her chest, "Ya snooze ya lose." 

"Bbokie," Jeongin gets whiny in a way Y/N hasn't heard him get before, pouting before Hyunjin scoots over. 

"Oh, my aegi -- big strong alpha, hyung will make room for you," Hyunjin pats the very limited space he provided for him, and instead of rolling his eyes, Jeongin just slightly grumbles after handing the shirt to Minho. Then, he squeezes in -- Y/N spreads her legs so it's a little easier for him to snuggle beside Hyunjin and rest his head on her other thigh, over Jisung's hand. 

Minho waits until she finishes drinking the rest of the water before he helps her put the shirt on over her head. "You smelling like him and all of us will drive him crazy," his voice is airy and light. "It'll help him get over his little mental block." He presses his wrist to her throat again, scenting her as greedily as Felix, and she starts to purr again. Minho smiles something soft and sweet, leaning in and kissing the tip of her nose the way she's seen him do with a cat. 

The shirt smells so much like Chan, she can't wait for him to come home so she could get a huff of him straight from the source. She fits her arms through the holes, and with her right arm, she loops around Minho's neck and tugs him down. He squeaks a little when she buries her face into his throat and breathes in deep. He smells so good too -- and when she drags her tongue over his scent gland, he grips her hip tightly, a startled moan leaving his mouth. 

Felix giggles, "Yeah? Minnie smells really yummy, doesn't he?" He says just above a whisper in her ear, "He wants you so badly. He's really good at acting all collected, though." The scent of him blossomed on her tongue, warm and cozy, sweetened by the situation. When she lets up on her grip, he eases back, his upper lip pouted and puffy, and she thinks she'd have to be crazy not to suck it into her mouth. It feels warm and plush between her lips, and even better between her teeth as she nibbled over it. 

It's nice; she's always dreamed of sucking and biting over his upper lip. Every time she looks at it, it appears so plushy and the sweet, bunny-like philtrum – every time she sees it, she gets this feeling in her mouth that needs to be satiated. She wonders how swollen she could make it, nipping and sucking on it. 

But he is not as content just to let her have at his upper lip. He closes his bottom lip around her and turns it into a kiss, pulling back so she releases him with a pop. His tongue flickers into her mouth -- she wonders if he can taste his pack mates. He moans like he can at least. 

"S'nice watching him lose it a little," someone murmurs behind her -- she's pretty sure it's Changbin, but her head is too swimmy to know for sure, "It's cute." 

Minho moans against her mouth, like he might have been trying to protest it, but it melts into a mewl when she sucks on his tongue. Something finally clicks in his head, she thinks, when he starts to reposition them, moving Hyunjin and Jeongin (who both protest grumpily) out of the way, so he can easily get in between her legs. Y/N doesn't know why he bothered putting briefs on again after showering. When he presses flush against her, there's a hard lump that makes her shiver. 

When they split for a breath, spit clings to their mouths, bowing and snapping in between them. 

"My sweet little thing," he breathes out, carefully grabbing her by the chin, cradling her face like that, "I'll get you ready for your alpha's knot, okay?" 

Y/N nods so quickly it feels like her brain bounces around inside her head. Felix always talks about how good it feels to be split open on Minho. Whispers it to her when they're both feeling a little shy, but telling stories with candles lit and chocolate wrappers decorating one of their beds. He talks about how intense Minho is; how he can fit himself inside and it feels like he's all the way in your throat. Minho is big for an omega. Big for her mouth and big for her hole -- she rolls her hips into him, gripping his arms tightly. His skin feels milky and soft. He smells so good, and it fills her all the way up. It's too much and not enough; she needs to burrow her face into his neck and breathe in so deep that it fills every functional cell of her lungs. 

He catches her gaze, cradles her face in his hand, and makes her stare at him. "You're our omega, aren't you?" Y/N's heart feels too big for her chest. She nods like she's hypnotized -- she might be. "Say it out loud. Practice for when Channie hyung comes home." 

Saying it is as easy as breathing. 

"I'm your omega," she whines, "I'm yours, I'm yours, I'm yours --" 

                                                                         . . .

Chan was avoiding coming home. 

At first it wasn't intentional. There was plenty to do at work, so he was keeping busy, especially after his phone was blowing up with messages all day. He'd been fantasizing about coming back home to a heat cuddle pile that they'd all been eagerly bragging about. He thought about how good Y/N was going to smell, her scent mixed with all of theirs, and how an unmated omega in general is meant to be alluring and tempting. Chan was jealous that he hadn't been home all day, taking care of her. All it took was cuddling her and then having to leave, that finally showed him that. 

But then, the closer it came to him clocking out and coming home, he'd find something else to do. A song to work on, a track to mix, re-listening to the lyrics Jisung sent him -- if it could tack on more work, then he was doing it. He'd get to a stopping point, feel good about what he'd finished, and a twist in his gut from anticipation and nerves would make him pause. . .and then he'd find something else to do. He'd answered the first of Minho's calls, but then ignored the other two. There was a message burning a hole through his screen -- he's sure it's Minho cussing him out -- but he avoids looking at it to avoid the guilt that bubbles up in him. 

He wants to go, he really does, but in his time away he'd worked himself up all over again. Chan doesn't want to ruin this for them. He doesn't want to stress any of them out or anything by suddenly appearing in the middle of it. It seemed like they were doing well without him, taking care of her just fine -- wouldn't his showing up just screw that up? And what if Y/N isn't able to get comfortable with him there? What if she's used to all of their scents but not his? What if he throws off a very delicate balance that they've created in his absence? 

So he's hunkered down at work. He knows that around 10- 11 PM most of them will have started to fall asleep; even the night owls would be worn out from being with an omega in heat most of the evening. One of them would probably take their "night shift" turn, as the one who would tend to her through the late hours. Maybe two of them, even -- Chan had a feeling that Felix would be one of them, and he wouldn't be surprised if Changbin or Minho stayed available. But by the time he snuck into the house, he would be able to slip into his room and see them in the morning. 

A knock on the door startles him from where he was slumped, forehead in his palms on his computer desk. "Hyung," Seungmin's voice slithered into the room politely, before he twisted the knob and opened it, "It's time to come home." 

Chan smiled softly at him -- Seungmin looked cute, all soft and sweet, like he'd been napping all evening. He usually isn't the type to, but with a heating omega in the house, it's easy for them to do things out of the ordinary. His hair looks barely patted down, like he couldn't bother to fix it too much before he left the house. And he clearly had his inside clothes on rather than switching them out for something different. He had scent patches on, at least, but his clothes have the lingering scent of their pack and of that new, sweet scent that tickles his nose. 

"Did my puppy come to get me?" He held his arms out, spreading his thighs and inviting Seungmin into his body. Seungmin comes easier than he usually does, which is surprising to Chan, as he waddles on over and presses his full body against him. Chan's face is buried in the belly of his shirt, breathing in slowly and deeply -- he could get scent drunk from this. He must've been in her nest, in these clothes. His head swims with it. 

"You don't play fair, Puppy," he murmurs, words muffled against Seungmin's stomach, "I was going to come home." 

"When? At 11 PM? 12 AM? When everyone was asleep?" Chan pouts, face still hidden in his stomach, but he doesn't respond. "Hyung, she wants you there. Every time we bring you up, she clamps down so tightly." Arousal coils through his gut, low and hot -- sometimes Jisung says that "his belly did a thing" and Chan thinks this is what he must be talking about. "And we want you there -- it doesn't feel right to be taking care of someone without you. But being with her. . feels really good too. So let's maximize how good we will all feel with you there." 

Chan muffles against his shirt again, apparently less audible than before because Seungmin lets out a, "What?" 

"I said," he peels back a little bit, "What if I throw everything off? I -- you've all been doing so well taking care of her, I know it. What if you think you want me there but --" 

"Shut up," he clicks his tongue, "There's no situation where you wouldn't be wanted, so I'm not letting you finish that sentence." Chan sighs against him, and Seungmin tries to pull him up. It's cute, because he can barely get Chan to budge with those pretty arms of his, but he still tries regardless, "And Minho hyung said he's going to put you in a cock cage if you don't come home with me, so. . ." 

"Fine," he grumbles, pressing himself up to a stand, letting his nose drag from Seungmin's belly, up his chest, to his throat. He reaches up and peels the patch away just a little, getting flooded with the scent of his pack, the scent of Y/N, the sweetness that's laced through it all. His cock twitches absently, a mind of its own, "I -- I'll come, but if anyone feels uncomfortable they better tell me." 

"I really don't think you'll have to worry about that." 

The ride home, which typically feels like every bit of the 15 minutes that it is -- is over in the blink of an eye. Chan feels nervous walking to their door, heart thundering in his chest as he gets closer. Seungmin has a hand snug in his, urging him forward, not giving him a chance to panic or change his mind. He kept telling him that as soon as he steps inside the house, he'll be okay. That he just needs to walk through the doors and he'll get it, he'll understand. That this mental block he's having will all but disintegrate. 

Chan has his doubts up until Seungmin unlocks the door, presses it open, and pulls him inside. . .

Oh. 

Oh. Yes. 

It smells so good here -- so good, so good, so good. Chan's eyes flutter open wide, his grip on Seungmin's laced fingers tightened. The younger smiles but says nothing, leading him further into the house toward the nesting room. The scent is delicious, intense; it's sticky on the back of his throat; citrus-y and sweet, his pack intermingling with it, mixing, making it their own. His cock throbs, fattening almost instantly in his bottoms, and the sensitive base of his knot reemerges almost immediately. His mouth fills with saliva -- he wants to taste this scent right from the source. 

When they open the door to the nesting room, he almost passes out. 

Everyone is in there, in various states of undress. Jeongin and Hyunjin are stereotypically snuggled in each other's arms, as they normally find themselves in this state when someone is either in heat or rut. Hyunjin wraps around Jeongin like a vine, his fingers fixed around his cock, slowly ringing him out while they watch in front of them. Changbin was near the foot of the bed with Jisung, their earlier foot-related squabble seemingly cleared up if the way Jisung was eagerly riding him was any sort of indication. Pressed against Jisung's face was a pair of panties that Chan could imagine were their unmated guests’. 

And in the center of the nest, Felix and Minho were tending to Y/N. Felix was on her left, holding her head in his lap, fingers stuffed in her mouth while Minho was fucking her in that slow, deep, measured way that all of them have felt. His fingers on one hand dig into her hips, holding her still, and the other props himself up so that he can be closer to her, their mouths barely centimeters apart. His upper lip keeps getting caught on her moaning mouth as he speaks to her, low, sweet murmurs he's sure, even though he can't hear them. 

Y/N's in his shirt, he can tell, he can smell it. She smells like him, like his pack, like herself, like him, like him, like him; it's so good, he's about to start shaking. Seungmin lets go of his hand, walks over to the bed, and crawls in, cuddling close to Felix, who splits his legs further so Seungmin can rest on the opposite thigh of Y/N. 

Minho looks over to the door where Chan still stood, smiling, before he reaches for Y/N's chin and turns her to face him. "Look who came to see you," he all but purrs, nudging the tip of his nose against her cheek, hips still rolling into her hard, "Isn't that so nice?" 

Y/N's eyes light up in a way that he hadn't been expecting at all. She's gone, for sure, so far away but so fucking cute how she's looking at him, a smile forming over her mouth. "Ah -- ah, you -- you came," she sounds so sweet, so happy, so relieved, "Channie -- Channie hyung -- hyung? Uh -- no -- I don't -- I don't call you that --" 

Minho chuckles, same with Felix and Seungmin, "He's not hyung to you, silly girl," he murmurs, "Hn, did I fuck you stupid? Did you forget what you call him?" He nuzzles his nose closer. "Go on, I know you can do it. Such a dumb kitty brain right now, I bet you can barely tell right from left, but you know who Chan-ah is, don't you?" She nods, breathless, whining, her thighs tightening around his hips -- Chan can tell in the way that Minho has to shift, readjust himself so that he can keep moving as slow and deep as he needs to, "Yeah? Who is he?" 

Y/N swallows thickly, eyes full of tears -- as sweet as he is, Minho can be such a meanie too, which only makes it that much more satisfying when he's sweeter. But even this is nowhere as evil as he could be (Minho has a keen nose, so he can always tell when the tears go from happy and horny to sad, so he never lets it get too far). 

"My -- he's my --" she whined, frowning, her brain all mushy, trying to get the words out, "My alpha. He's my alpha." 

Chan lets the door swing shut behind him, his body pulling him closer to the mattress like a rope had been tied around his waist and yanked. "Ah -- baby," he drops down to his knees, respectful as he can be of her nest, even though he wants so desperately to stumble inside of it, "I --" 

"This is what we're going to do," Minho eases out of her, and Y/N makes a wounded noise, lips pouting, but Seungmin leans in and presses a kiss against her mouth like he's satiating her. "Channie is a perv that likes to watch; we've known this, but he especially likes to be really close while it's happening too." With the ease of someone who spends more time in the gym than he acts, Minho spun her around, carefully avoiding their mates in the process. Y/N is all bobble-headed and noodle, putting full trust and faith into him to take care of her body, which he does. He uses one hand to hold her up, the curve of his palm resting against her throat, and the other arm twisted around her waist. His mouth isn't even a breath away from her ear, lips skimming along the shell of it, "Can our alpha come into the nest, kitty? Want him under you?" 

She nods, wordlessly, but there's a whine that comes from somewhere else in the bed. "No fair," Jisung's voice leaks into the room, "Channie hyung gets to be beneath her and Minho? I'm so jealous I could start crying. I actually might." 

"Shh, Sung, don't make me fill your mouth." Changbin hums. Chan's eyes flicker to the side where Jisung is watching them, frowning while Changbin is gripping his bum, pulling him closer so that he could reach his lips. 

"Jeonginnie will fill his mouth," Hyunjin offers, "But I might cry too, like -- being under two omegas? With Seungminnie and Felix snuggled close? God, I feel faint just thinking about it." 

Chan feels like he's buzzing all over; his cock is leaking from the tip, making the inside of his briefs so sticky. He carefully crawls into the nest, reaching up to pull his shirt off and hands it to Y/N like an offering. One hand holds onto Minho's forearm, and the other grabs his shirt, brings it to her nose, and she huffs one slow, long, deep breath. He thinks she might be like Felix, who is very greedy with materials scented for his nest or things that had been worn all day and given to him. Hell, even Minho can be a little greedy with it, and with how much Y/N loves their scents, he thinks she might be similar. 

But then she carefully holds it up to Minho's nose to share. Minho chuckles into the fabric, nuzzling his face close to it while Chan maneuvered his way beneath them, sliding his legs between their spread thighs. He fell back into the nest, immediately surrounded by all of their scents, and Y/N's heat-drenched scent slithering its way all over him. He feels breathless, like he needs to keep panting, but he doesn't know how much of that is actually needing oxygen and how much of it is him trying to fill every square inch of his lungs with her. 

Minho lowers her slowly, and Y/N doesn't bother to hold herself up. She flattens out on top of him, whines low and pretty when their bodies meet. Her arms loop around the back of his neck, her lips meet his in a kiss that's just as hot and wet. Her tongue feels soft in his mouth, eager but delicate. Chan wraps his arms around her, parting his lips and letting her do as she wishes, up until the point she moans, vibrating against his tongue. He swallows the sound deep in his belly before he feels the careful jostle of Minho fucking into her again. 

"Yeah, that's a good girl," Minho pets Y/N's back the best he can with Chan's arms as a roadblock, running his thumb along the notches and ridges of her spine, "You feeling good?" 

She whines, nods the best she can, her tongue slipping out of Chan's mouth. He leans in and nips at her bottom lip, sucks on it to satiate himself for a moment. His cock is steadily leaking now -- at this point, it probably looked like he wet himself with how much precum was in his briefs. His knot was already trying to swell; he's always been sensitive, but he was only quick to knot when his omegas were in heat. And even then, he could manage some restraint until they were taken care of. 

Every roll of Minho's hips has a dirty grind that presses her down onto his prick. His cock and her pussy smush together, kind of like a kiss, and she's leaking so much slick around Minho that Chan is shocked that he's able to stay inside at all. Y/N just moans high and whiny into Chan's mouth, unable to keep up with kissing. Minho holds onto her sides to keep her still, her thighs trembling, shaking like a leaf. She was cumming, and whatever it felt like had Minho tilting his head back, showing off the lines of his throat, the bite on his neck that ties him to Chan. 

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Minho sighs with each thrust, and Chan marvels at his omega feeling good, at the omega on his body, his two omegas kissing beside his head. He can feel Changbin gripping his ankle; he can tell by the grip and the size of his hands, the sound of Jisung with his mouthful Jeongin as promised, and Hyunjin, who crawls to Chan's other side, getting a first-row seat to what's happening. With no shame, Hyunjin reaches between Y/N and Minho and swipes his fingers through her slick, then through Minho's slick that drips down his thighs, before pulling it back to his mouth. "Jinnie," Minho's voice is a mix between a moan and scolding him, "Hands to yourself, baby." 

"Sorryyy," he hums, sounding not apologetic at all, "So good though, you two taste sweet together." And because they're trying to kill Chan, Hyunjin leans forward to him and presses their tongues together. Chan loves kissing Hyunjin, and he loves kissing him even more when he tastes like slick. He feels needy, like a starving wolf when he starts to lick Hyunjin's tongue, sucking it into his mouth, letting himself get dizzy from the taste, the feel -- everything. 

His gums ache -- he wants to bite something, so badly, and he knows what and who he wants to bite, but he has to reel it in. He's the pack alpha, after all; he should be able to handle this onslaught of desire and scent. Hyunjin pops away from him, spit clinging to their mouths, when Minho has to wrap his arm around Y/N's throat, like he could sense what she wanted. With his forearm in front of her mouth, she latches onto it, her teeth gnawing gently at the muscle. Not hard enough to mark or draw blood, but like a teething kitty. Minho keeps grinding into her slow and deep, and when he speaks, Chan can tell that he's close to cumming. His voice is more breathless, a little higher -- it's even cuter when he's under Chan, his bunny teeth poking out from behind his upper lip. It usually beckons him to suck that upper lip into his mouth, but it looks like someone's already done that today, from how swollen it appears. 

"Chan-ah," he begins, voice soft, "You know our poor little omega got so sad earlier, hm? Because we had a bath and she didn't smell like us anymore." Minho nuzzles his face into her hair, while she nibbles and gnaws at his arm. "So we all scented her up to make her feel better. But one scent is missing, isn't it, kitty?" 

Y/N makes a growly sound in her throat, and Hyunjin sighs, scratching at her scalp softly. "Cute little thing," Hyunjin murmurs, and Chan can tell it's taking everything in him not to swoop in and taste her mouth too. 

Minho moves his arm, with barely enough time before Chan lunges at her throat. He nuzzles into her neck, licking over her scent gland swollen, and every press of his tongue just makes more of it ooze and seep out around them. She tastes so sweet, citrus-y, like a dessert. Chan wants to eat her, swallow her down -- he wants to pin her, bite into her shoulder, leave a nice pretty mark so that nobody ever thinks about touching her. Sweet little omega, he needs her, needs to put her in his pack, needs to -- needs to -- 

There's a breathless laugh; Minho speeds his hips up before he buries his face into the opposite side of her neck before his pace stutters, slows. He moans, emptying into her. Typically, Minho likes to paint their skin with his cum, whether it be their bum, their tummies, their thighs or faces -- but he also knows when Chan fucks someone, he likes the mess and wet feel of someone else's spend. 

"Not a thought in Channie's head," Changbin laughs, "Look at him -- it looks like he's going to eat her." 

Before he splits away from them, Minho presses a kiss to Chan's temple, and then a soft, sweet one to the side of Y/N's head. "No more thoughts." He slides out of her, squelching loudly. "Just do what feels good." 

Chan won't have any more thoughts. He can't believe he'd made himself wait for this all day. How stupid can he be? This poor omega, all she wants is a pack, to feel good, to be fucked and bit and claimed, and he almost turned her away to suffer with this all alone? Horrible -- he's so horrible, he needs to make her feel good. Needs to make up for not scenting her every second of every day. 

He flips them around, finds her mouth again, and kisses her until they're both breathless. Y/N's tongue is useless at this point; she must be so far gone, and Chan is no better. He loves her in his shirt, but he wants to see all of her. His hand skates up the fabric, his fingertips sliding up the sweat-damp skin as he drags the shirt up with him. Her breasts feel so soft against his palms as he kneads them, taking his shirt between his teeth and trying to yank it the rest of the way up with his hands busy. Felix helps pull it the rest of the way off her head, then pushes it against Hyunjin's face, who whines and holds it to his nose. Seungmin has disappeared, but with the sounds Minho's making, he can only imagine he's cleaning him up with his tongue. He feels someone grabbing at the waistband of his shorts and briefs, tugging them down over his bum, and his cock slaps up against his belly. 

The tip is glistening -- if he wasn't still so hard up, he would have thought he'd already cum. Pearly, stringy precum drips down from the slit and meets her pubes. His gaze dances along her body, truly, for the first time. She's covered in little bruises and marks, love bites littering her thighs. He can tell that she spent the morning with Felix, who always leaves little bites all over their skin (it's how he gets his cuteness aggression out). The love bites all over her breasts speak to her time with Hyunjin and Jisung too. Those three are far less mindful of when and where they're leaving little spots of where they've been. If Minho knew more of her limits, Chan knows her bum would be red and sore, and he would have bitten her up too. Changbin and Seungmin are a little more careful, and Jeongin had already told them he was doing his best to keep his teeth to himself. 

Her skin still looks so soft though, and feels soft beneath his hands. Her thighs have fallen open for him, dripping Minho's cum, looking slick and wet and puffy, needy, clenching around nothing like she might be beckoning him in. 

But what really draws him is her sweet face. She's beautiful, truly, even with her hair a mess, her eyes puffy, cheeks with tear stains, but she looks in no way distressed or sad. Tears from feeling too good, Chan knows exactly how she feels. Her neck is too bare, missing the nice, pretty pack bite that she deserves on her skin. Such a good little omega for a pack, Chan can't believe nobody has ever tried to court her. 

Felix brushes the hair from her face, tucking the sweaty strands behind her ears. Y/N's gaze leaves Chan momentarily to look up at Felix, and it's so, so adoring and sweet; it makes his heart twitch and grow, feeling too big in his chest. He loves seeing his packmates interact with her, how soft and tender they are. Felix smiles at her, big and pretty. His bare face shows flushed cheeks and freckles, dyed blonde hair pulled back into a pony. 

Then Y/N's eyes shift back to Chan, still adoring, still full of so much fondness. It's almost too much for him. Chan cradles her face with one hand, and Y/N leans against it, nuzzling against his palm. 

"Hi baby," he murmurs, "Such a pretty omega. Do you want alpha to knot you up?" He'll be embarrassed about this later, how he's talking, but right now it doesn't matter. Right now he's working off his most base instincts. Everything in his brain is alarming to make her feel comfortable, to make her feel taken care of, to make her want to be in their pack, "Fill you all up and make you feel better?" 

No words leave her – she just nods, eyes big, covering his hand on her face with hers. He reaches down, his knot so sensitive already when he grabs hold of the base and paints the tip up and down her slit. Y/N sucks in a sharp breath when the head catches on her hole, carefully pressing into her. Even though she'd been fucked and stretched, Chan likes to be careful, slow, gentle with how he fills his omegas. He wants them to feel every little bit of him while he slides inside to the hilt. He gives her his thumb, and Y/N accepts it instantly, sucking the tip into her mouth. 

"Told you," Felix is still petting her head, like they’d spoken about it before, "Channie hyung makes you feel so full. Can feel him in your belly." 

Chan fucks her. He rolls his hips into her, slow to start but gets quicker and quicker with every thrust. The sound of their thighs colliding echoes, and the squelching is so loud as he fucks Minho's cum deeper inside of her. He's slept with girls in the past, but it's been a while since he felt the inside of a pussy. The soft, silky, pulsing walls with bumps and ridges are unlike when he's fucking his mates. Both feel so fucking good; he can't believe he's able to experience either of them. He feels spoiled rotten. 

Every slide inside of her rocks her up the nest before she slides back down. Her tits bounce, beckoning a mouth, and Jisung appears, slipping himself between Hyunjin and Y/N before latching onto her nipple. He sucks and licks, drags his teeth against it. Y/N gasps again, around his thumb, "Sung," Chan hums, "Is she yours? Hm?" 

"Yeah," he whines, muffled against her tit, sucking kisses along the flesh, "She's ours." 

Chan groans, taking Y/N's wrist and bringing it up to his mouth, taking her index and middle finger and hooking them against his bottom lip. He sucks on her fingers, licks them, and takes them down to the knuckle. Yeah, she's theirs -- she's their pretty omega. His hips speed up, fucking into her harder, quicker, and Y/N squeezes around him, like she might cum again already. She's nonverbal, just groaning and whining, and Chan sees it as a win -- that she feels so safe and comfortable with them, she can trust that they'll take care of her. That she doesn't have to force herself to speak for them. That she can just feel, and experience, and exist in this pleasant warmth and pleasure. 

It's good. God, it's so fucking good. His knot swells a little more, catching at her entrance every time he fucks inside. Behind him he hears Jeongin moan, loud and whiny, Changbin's voice muffled but moaning too. Hyunjin is grumbling and moaning too, and the way Jisung's lower half starts moving, Chan can tell that Hyunjin's fucking him. When his gaze flickers to the right, Minho is fucking Seungmin with his fingers, but they're turned facing him and Y/N. Felix watches so intently, mouth hung open, looking nibbled over and sweet. 

He can feel their eyes on them, smell them all around him; nobody is upset or uncomfortable -- they all feel so safe and content in her nest. He'd been so nervous for absolutely no reason. 

Chan starts to fuck her harder, faster; the boil in his gut is so intense that he worries he'll knot before he's tucked inside of her. He stuffs himself deep, until when he tries to pull out he can’t. He grinds in deep and dirty, until the boil tips over, and his orgasm takes over his whole body. He shakes as he cums. It lights through his body and feels like his cells are all vibrating, hot white stripes of his release filling her up. Y/N's eyes roll up, fluttering closed, lips dropping open in a moan. The need to claim her is overwhelming now, even worse than before. Chan moves off instinct, leaning forward, mouth open -- he wants to bite, he needs to bite, he needs to make her theirs --

"Ahh, careful," Changbin's voice rings through his ears, and what he assumes is his hand curls up at the root of Chan's hair, tugging him back. Chan growls, but Felix stuffs his arm in front of his mouth, where he bites down and groans. The ache in his gums fades almost instantly. "Can't just go biting omegas without asking, Channie, that's rude." 

His eyes flutter shut too, trying to catch his breath. Felix takes his arm away from his mouth, and Chan falls forward, leaning into her throat not to bite, but to scent the hell out of her. He rubs his nose along the curve of her neck, nestles against her scent gland, drenches her in him, him, him. They would be locked together for a while, and until he started feeling semi-normal again, this is what he'll do. It's what he does for his omegas in heat and his alphas in rut -- he takes time to scent them adequately after they're knotted/have knotted. To strengthen the bond and comfort the trembling body beneath him. 

Y/N begins to purr, low and rumbled, and his heart swells just as big as his knot. He repositions them as carefully as he can, rolling them onto their side so they're a little more comfortable. She grumbles at him just a little when the knot tugs but settles easily, purring again, a sweet, dopey smile on her face. Felix slips between their legs, nuzzling himself as close as he could with the limited space provided. Jisung is still cuddled close to her side, also seemingly snug on a knot. Jisung leans in, smears a soft kiss to Y/N's cheek because that's all he can quite reach with her facing Chan, but she cranes her neck to meet his mouth. 

Jeongin tries to leave the nest, and Chan growls, brows furrowed as he locks eyes with him, "I have to pee, hyungie." 

"I think you'll have to hold it, aegi," Changbin clicks his tongue, "Wait until he falls asleep." 

Jeongin pouts, but they're used to this from Chan by this point. He returns to Changbin's open arms and snuggles back close. 

Chan takes a long, slow, deep breath. Y/N's eyes are closed, the intensity of her heat settling just a little bit. He isn't sure for how long, but he knows for now she's positively content and satiated. How sweet she looks falling asleep; it starts to tug him down too. Especially when he feels Minho carding his fingers through his hair. 

"Silly alpha," he murmurs softly, "This is all you needed, hm?" 

. . .

Jisung

Hyung looks so cute when he's asleep

I think he's drooling 

THIS is what I meant with the NyQuil-like properties

Seungmin

Jisung. Bed.

Jisung

:(( you know I can't sleep when hyunjin has me knotted

he keeps squeezing my chest

and biting my neck

I'm getting mauled 

Hyunjin

he's lying

Jisung

no I'm not!!!! 😤

Felix

Why are we acting like we aren't in the same room?

Minho

So Chan doesn't wake up and try to stop cuddling

We can't startle him. It's like when a feral cat crawls on you

Felix

ohhh true true 

Channie almost bit her. Are we going to discuss that 🤭

Changbin

yeah he is going to be embarrasssssseeedddddd

good thing binnie is so quick and strong 

Seungmin

Shut up Changbin

Jeongin

I HAVE TO PISS

Nobody cares about me or my bladder

Jisung

I CARE ABOUT ALL OF YOU INNIE

I got somewhere you can piss 

Jeongin

😨

Changbin

Now what did I DO but save the day 

Felix 

Innie, you can go to the bathroom, he's KO'd

Even if he wakes up, he'll be so embarrassed about almost biting her, he's going to pretend he's still asleep

Minho

Aegi, while you're up, bring water and protein bars 

my sweet kitty is awake

she's looking at me right now 

Hyunjin

omg she's awake already

sungie, I'm swapping spots with you 

Jisung 

NO!!! 

let me have my turn 

she smells so good

you got all morning with her!! greedy alpha!! 

Changbin

yeah, jinnie, sungie is right 

obviously it's my turn

Jisung 

now that is NOT what I said

Felix

Minho hyung can I come on your side to be closer 

Minho

yes jagi, come here 

Changbin

fine then I'm taking the spot between their legs 

it had been building for months now, a slow unraveling that you hadn’t even noticed until the exam grades started rolling in and hitting like sucker punches straight to the ribs. a 61 in econ. 58 in calc. a humiliating 43 in the upper-division statistics course you had only signed up for because your advisor swore up and down you’d “do fine” if you just showed up, paid attention, and did the work. of course, nobody told you how hard it’d be to do the work when school felt like breaking your brain with each passing week.

and sure, it wasn’t entirely your fault you were in this now completely catastrophic mess. life happened. you were busy. sooo busy.

tests piled up, papers came due, and before you knew it, the semester had gotten away from you. one skipped lecture turned into two, and then three, because the hangover was too heavy, or you woke up too late, or maybe skipping just became easier than showing up and realizing you still didn’t fucking get it.

your friends didn’t seem to have a problem with it though. in fact, they seemed to be doing just fine, sitting pretty with half the stress you carried while partying with twice the energy. it was infuriating.

how did these trust fund, name-dropping, parents-pay-everything-for-me types just breeze their way through life while you clawed and struggled and stressed for every single second of yours?

“just don’t think about it,” they’d say when you worried aloud about your scholarship.

“take a mental health day. or week. you deserve it!”

“a curve will carry you through like always.”

but that curve was not saving your ass this time, and honestly, the guilt of falling so far behind wasn’t even the worst part.

the worst part was knowing you were the one who let it happen.

there wasn’t anyone else to pin this on, no scapegoat for the party invites you shouldn’t have accepted or the nights out you couldn’t say no to because it’d look bad to disappear. you’d just… kept up.

and things were fun— exciting, even— until they weren’t. until you realized just how hard you were sinking.

and now here you were; failing half your classes, barely passing the others, one more missed lecture away from kissing your scholarship goodbye. and you didn’t even have anyone to turn to for help.

the people you called “friends,” those picture-perfect girls with weekly blowouts paid on daddy’s card and those polished guys with frat pins and parents on donor lists— weren’t actually your friends.

because now that you needed something? now that you were desperate for someone to swoop in and save you from drowning? they only had half-hearted excuses to offer you.

“sorry, babe, we’re swamped with group projects,” one girl had said while sipping an overpriced matcha latte you knew for a fact her roommate paid for.

“dude, just hit up someone in your class. you’ll figure it out,” one guy shrugged, adjusting his collar on what was clearly a brand-new polo shirt for his friday night out.

every excuse only added to the dull ache in your chest.

so maybe they weren’t your friends, not really. maybe they just liked the version of you who didn’t ask for anything, the one who could keep up, who looked shiny and fun and confident all the time.

now, all you had to show for was a rapidly deteriorating GPA, an inbox of ignored emails from professors, a terrifyingly close “academic warning” notice, and a desperate gamble hanging on a thin thread of possibility.

and that gamble was chan.

you didn’t actually know much about him beyond his name, just that he seemed way too hot to be stuck explaining complex theories to freshmen and that he was ridiculously good at his job as a TA for your statistics course.

almost too good.

you sat in the back most of the time, quietly zoning out while he spoke about office hours or went over practice examples that looked more like hieroglyphics to you than math. sometimes you’d stare down blankly at your notebook, pretending to write, just so he wouldn’t call on you.

but now, you didn’t really have a choice anymore, did you?

you were cornered— trapped, honestly— with the weight of your failing grades pressing down on you so hard that it felt like it’d snap your spine in half. chan was your only chance to fix this, and there wasn’t any guarantee he’d even agree to help you.

as far as you could tell from the few glances— okay, stares— you’d snuck during class or the rare moments you did try to pay attention, chan wasn’t the kind of guy who did anyone favors for free. he was helpful, sure. ridiculously patient, disgustingly smart, but distant in this professional, untouchable way that felt more intimidating than approachable.

which sucked because he was so insanely good-looking it made your stomach twist everytime you saw him.

like how was that even fair? how did someone with a full schedule of grading papers and breaking down theorems for struggling students still look like that?

it wasn’t just the obvious things, either, like his jawline being sharp enough to slice through a brick wall or the way his hair always sat perfectly, even if it looked like he’d run his hands through it a million times. or the broad shoulders that strained against his button-ups, the way the rolled up sleeves gave a front-row view of his inked forearms when he turned to write on the board, he’d done that on purpose, you were sure of it.

no, it was deeper than that. something about him just… oozed authority. he had this natural confidence, this charm that made every interaction feel intentional, sharpened by polite smirks and these piercingly knowing looks that made you feel like he could see straight through you.

and that was terrifying.

you weren’t exactly one to shy away from attention. hell, you practically craved it on most days, but the idea of being in the same room as chan, let alone putting yourself at his mercy by asking for a favor this big? it put knots in your stomach.

to be fair, it wasn’t just how hot he was or how sharp his tone could get if someone asked an obviously stupid question. it was the fact that you knew— you knew— he’d seen you at your worst.

because, let’s face it, you weren’t exactly subtle. it wasn’t hard to notice the girl stumbling into class ten minutes late with one hand clutching a coffee she clearly didn’t need and the other hand trying to smooth yesterday’s mascara out from under her eyes. or the girl who’d roll her eyes during presentations, whispering sarcastic comments to her desk mate only to fail her own turn at the podium because she hadn’t read the material.

you saw it in the way his eyes flicked over you sometimes— brief, appraising glances, like he was clocking all the things you were doing wrong but didn’t have the energy to care. and that made asking for his help… well, humiliating wasn’t even the right word.

but when you thought of all your options, or lack thereof, it was clear. chan was your only shot.

which leads you to now, racing down the hallway outside his office hours, totally unprepared and already out of breath just thinking about how this might go.

your sneakers squeaked against the tiled floor as you skidded to a halt in front of his office door, heart hammering out an uneven rhythm.

what were you even supposed to say? “hi, sorry for being the laziest, least deserving person ever, but can you please do me a favor and save my entire academic career ??”

your reflection wobbled in the slim window beside the door, your hair’s slightly disarray, and your tote bag’s slipping off one shoulder. the image made something bitter crawl up the back of your throat.

you didn’t even look like the kind of student chan would want to help. no pressed chinos or perfectly highlighted notes. you didn’t smell like coffee and effort; you smelled like nerves and desperation.

but fuck it. this was life or death.

your knuckles rapped against the wood once, then twice, before your hand fell limply at your side. god, your heart was racing.

“come in.” his voice rang out from the other side, clipped and smooth, familiar to the point where your knees almost gave out. there wasn’t a single part of you that felt ready for this.

steeling yourself with one last breath, you pushed open the door and stepped inside.

chan was at his desk, pen in hand, leaning over a stack of papers with that laser sharp focus that made you question if he was actually human. his glasses sat neatly in place, silver-framed and faintly reflecting the soft overhead light above him. it wasn’t until you had shyly cleared your throat that his eyes finally flicked up to meet yours. they were unreadable, scanning over you, down to your bag and back up again, before settling on your face.

“need something?” he asked, leaning back in his chair slightly.

this was it. do or die.

you tried not to let your voice tremble too much as you spoke. “hi, uh- hi, chan. do you have a minute? it’s about my grades.”

there was a pause, half a second that felt more like half an hour, before the smallest flicker of amusement crossed his lips.

“i figured.”

just two words, said so lightly they could’ve meant nothing, but they were enough to make your stomach curdle. you wrung your hands together in front of you, shifting slightly under the sheer weight of his gaze as he gestured for you to sit.

“go ahead,” he said, resting his chin in his palm now, pen dangling lazily between his fingers. his tone stayed polite, but there was something about the way his eyes followed you as you sank into the chair. “tell me what’s going on.”

fuck. where did you even start?

you swallowed hard, your throat suddenly feeling bone dry as you stared back at him. chan’s gaze was pointed, measured, like he wasn’t just listening— he was assessing. waiting, with those sharp brown eyes unblinking, his full attention zeroing in on you in a way that was making it near impossible to concentrate.

this was already a disaster…

“well, um,” you began, your fingers nervously twisting the strap of your bag as you attempted (and failed) to keep your voice level. there was something annoyingly self-assured about the way he sat there, looking completely relaxed while your nerves threatened to devour you alive.

“i’ve been struggling with the coursework,” you said, your tone more apologetic than you wanted it to be. “like, a lot. stats isn’t really coming easy to me, and i guess i.. fell behind.”

he hummed softly, as if that didn’t surprise him one bit.

the sound made your stomach twist uncomfortably.

“i know it’s my fault,” you blurted out, tightening your grip on your bag’s strap like it’ll stop the word vomit. “i’ve been really busy, too busy, honestly, and i know i didn’t prioritize things the way i should have, but i swear, i’m not usually this bad—”

“how bad?” chan interrupted coolly.

you blinked, your voice freezing in your throat.

he quirked an eyebrow and tilted his head slightly, a gesture so calm, so subtle, and yet it sent a wave of dread rolling through your chest anyway.

“your grades,” he clarified, tone light and casual, the pen absently swaying between his fingers as if he wasn’t deliberately making you squirm. “how bad are we talking here?”

“uh…” you hesitated, swallowing again as the words caught on the lump in your throat. there really wasn’t a more humiliating way to admit this, so you just… ripped the bandaid off.

“failing,” you confessed. “like, actually failing.”

if chan was surprised, he didn’t show it. he didn’t do anything, really— except lean back further in his chair and once again let that infuriating, unreadable expression sit on his face.

“right,” he said slowly, dragging the word out as his eyes flitted down to his desk.

right.

the way he said it— low, simple, dismissive— was somehow worse than if he’d said nothing at all.

your cheeks flushed with heat as you continued feebly, trying to fill the silence stretching between you. “but, um, i can fix it! i’m not- i’m not hopeless or anything, and if there’s any sort of grade curve, i can—”

“you’re not getting a curve,” he said bluntly, cutting you off.

your heart sank somewhere into the pit of your stomach.

the words hit you like a brick to the face— not cruelly, and not even softly, just… so matter-of-fact, almost like he hadn’t even registered your desperation.

“oh,” you said lamely, voice wavering.

for a moment, it felt like the shame might actually swallow you whole.

you couldn’t bear to look at him now, but you felt his eyes narrow on you anyway— burning a hole through you as every ounce of resolve you’d built for this conversation unraveled bit by bit. this is what you’d been afraid of, wasn’t it? being dismissed. getting rejected so fast he wouldn’t even finish hearing you out.

“but,” chan said after the pause had lingered just a second too long, “if you’re serious about getting your grades up, maybe there’s something we can do.”

your head shot up so fast you felt lightheaded.

“r-really?” you stammered, your eyes wide and hopeful.

for the first time, his lips turned upward into a sly smirk— a barely-there expression that might’ve seemed harmless if his eyes didn’t gleam the way they did alongside it.

“sure,” he said simply, leaning forward now to rest his elbows on the desk between you. “come to my next office hours, and we’ll see how serious you actually are.”

office hours. simple enough, you thought.

except… the way he said it didn’t exactly feelsimple.

there was this weight behind the words, an implication you didn’t quite have the nerve (or the clarity) to fully dissect.

“okay,” you said quickly, trying to hide how much of a mess you already were.

chan reached for his notepad then, flipping it open before scribbling something down. you didn’t think you were looking particularly hard at his hands or his forearms, but the way the sleeve of his button-up pulled tight around his arm certainly made it hard not to notice.

“you’ll need help catching up. this isn’t something you can fix overnight,” he began, his voice returning to that smooth, professional tone that simultaneously put you on edge and made your chest feel unreasonably tight. “stats takes focus, effort, attention. it’s not something you can bullshit your way through.”

“i know,” you murmured, feeling small under the lecture but nodding eagerly anyway. “i will. i’m- i’ll focus, i promise.”

he didn’t answer, but the faintest hint of amusement returned to his face when he tore out the slip of paper and handed it across the desk.

a phone number.

his phone number.

“what’s this for?” you asked curiously, blinking up at him.

“so i can send you the address.”

your heart stuttered. “uh… address for what?”

he leaned back in his chair again. “you’ll come to my place next week,” chan said, still calm, but there was a heaviness in his tone you couldn’t miss. “that way, you can get the help you actually need, without all the distractions.”

there was something unreasonably intimate about the idea— you couldn’t even imagine slipping into his orbit here without losing your composure, and now he wanted you to see him in his space?

another knot twisted violently in your stomach.

he must’ve noticed the hesitation creeping into your face because the smirk tilted downward briefly, replaced with something oddly serious instead.

“you do want to get a passing grade, don’t you?”

his question made your lips part uselessly. “y-yeah. of course!”

“then i’ll see you there,” he said plainly, with an air of finality that left you no room to argue even if you’d wanted to.

you clutched the small slip of paper tightly between your fingers as the weight of his expectations, and his presence, stuck to your skin like damp heat.

and when you left that night, your own nerves clinging to you like static, one thing was painfully clear.

you had no idea what you were getting yourself into.

+

waking up five hours ahead of schedule should’ve been the first sign that today was going to feel completely off.

in fact, the entire day felt like one long, slow burn nightmare that had started from the moment your eyes shot open at 4 am and never quite recovered. with each passing minute, the reality of what you were about to do crept closer, sitting heavier and heavier in your chest.

you were going to chan’s… apartment. alone. to study. nothing else, obviously. just a completely normal… consensual… totally academic tutoring session with quite possibly the hottest man you’d ever laid eyes on.

so what if his arms were covered in tattoos you wanted to lick the outlines of? or if the memory of his sharp smirk from office hours was burned so deeply into your brain that even your shower thoughts felt unholy?

it wasn’t like anything was going to happen.

still, you couldn’t stop the way your whole body buzzed with nerves as you left your apartment that afternoon.

you’d spent way too much time debating what to wear— going through a tornado of outfits in your tiny room until your bed was buried in every top and pair of jeans you owned. you finally settled on something that you hoped gave, oh, this? i just threw it on! what, no, of course i don’t care that deeply about your opinion of me, even if the truth was written all over your mistake-proof eyeliner and the lingering scent of vanilla perfume on your wrists.

as a last minute, desperate attempt to soften him up, you stopped by a bakery near campus to grab some cheesecake slices. they were way too expensive for your crumbling student budget, but you figured they might do a little to save your poor, failing ass if your consistent eye twitch didn’t already scream pathetic gratitude. it was as much a bribe as it was a peace offering. you were about to invade his personal space, after all.

when you got to his building, you were a goddamn wreck.

your hands were clammy against the handle of the bakery box, your stomach twisting into violent knots as you rode the elevator to his floor. when the doors slid open, the reality of the situation hit you all over again; chan had only agreed to this because you were failing.

it wasn’t because he liked you, or thought you were special, or that he wanted to spend any alone time with you, despite every wildly horny fantasy your brain had conjured over the weekend. no, you were here because you were barely passing, and whatever mercy he was giving you came with conditions.

he’s seen it all, you reminded yourself. heard it all. probably helped a million people like you. don’t think you’re anything special, idiot.

your hands shook slightly as you reached his door, and after a brief moment of hesitation, you knocked.

the sound echoed back sharply, filling the silence of the hallway like a bomb ticking down the seconds. you almost bolted on the spot before you heard the faint shuffle on the other side, quick footsteps, the sound of the lock turning— and then, there he was.

chan leaned against the edge of the doorframe, his hand rested casually on the knob as his eyes danced over you in an entirely neutral expression. no glasses today, you noted immediately, your stomach sinking at how irritatingly attractive that somehow made him.

“you’re on time,” he remarked, his voice warm, but lightly amused.

your brain tripped over itself like it was your first time understanding words. “oh- yeah. of course! i didn’t want to, uh, keep you waiting.”

...an embarrassing response. great start.

chan’s mouth quirked, faint but noticeable as he stepped to the side to let you in.

“come in. shoes off right there,” he instructed, gesturing toward the neatly lined space by the door.

you followed silently, fully aware of every movement you made as you tugged your sneakers off and balanced them into place. if your nerves hadn’t already clocked out from overuse, your next observation would’ve totally knocked you out:

his place was spotless.

you weren’t entirely sure what you’d been expecting, but “clean freak” definitely wasn’t on the list. chan’s apartment was airy, quiet, and— dare you say— insultingly immaculate.

there wasn’t a single stray sock, not a speck of dust, no sink of dishes, or tangled wires ruining your line of sight to his bookshelves and minimalist decor. every inch of the space reeked of effortless organization, right down to the softly folded blanket on the couch and the perfectly centered pack of coasters on the coffee table.

it made your mess of an apartment seem downright feral by comparison.

“cute shoes,” he said airily from the kitchen, snapping your attention back to him as he leaned briefly into the fridge.

you blinked. “what?”

he nodded toward where you’d set your sneakers by the door. “your shoes, makes me think of those cheesy cartoon outfits. the ones with stars or glitter or something. kinda fun.”

you weren’t sure if that was meant to be an insult or a compliment, so you went with the safest option. “uh, thanks?”

chan’s faint smirk returned, but just as quickly as it flickered across his face, he tilted his head toward the counter expectantly.

“what’s that?” he asked.

“oh!” you moved quickly to the kitchen, thrusting the bakery box slightly forward in your hands. “i brought these for you! uh, it’s just some pastries- cheesecake slices, actually. i thought they might…” you trailed off, your words jumbling under the weight of his sharp gaze. “you know. be, um, nice. like, as a thank you or something. for helping me.”

you swore his smirk softened into something closer to a genuine grin, but you couldn’t be sure when it disappeared so quickly after.

"you didn’t have to do that,” he said, sliding the box easily from your hands.

“i know, but…” you shrugged weakly. “i just wanted to.”

he didn’t respond, his fingers deftly undoing the box lid before plucking one of the cheesecakes out. the sight felt unreasonably intimate, his hand brushing faint crumbs from the edge of the slice, the subtle twitch of his jaw as he took a bite and let the flavor settle.

“these are good,” he muttered, nodding slightly to himself. “thanks.”

you couldn’t tell if it was your heart that skipped or the entirety of your respiratory system.

+

things started out normal enough— or, at least, as normal as they could be considering who you were talking to and where you were.

after clearing space at his kitchen table, chan brought over your textbook and a loose stack of papers, pen already twirling idly between his fingers as his other hand tugged his chair close enough to yours that your collective elbows almost touched.

you were pretty sure your breathing hadn’t returned to normal for the past twenty minutes. you were hyper-aware of everything. the smooth tone of his voice when he walked you through a concept, the subtle tilt of his head when he waited for your response, the faint drag of his cologne hanging in the air when he leaned just marginally closer to explain something written on the page.

and worse, you were hyper-aware of yourself— your knees glued together without even trying, the way you were actively avoiding looking at his jaw when he spoke lest your brain run headfirst into the gutter.

“you’re staring,” his voice broke through your thought spiral.

shit.

“what?” you said a little too quickly.

“the page,” he clarified, and the corner of his mouth tugged upward knowingly as he glanced between your face and the textbook. “you’ve been staring at it without writing for at least five minutes. you good, or am i wasting my time here?”

heat crawled its way onto your cheeks as you scrambled to collect yourself. “no- no! you’re not wasting your time! sorry, i just—”

“got distracted?”

you hesitated, wetting your lips.

chan’s eyes dragged toward your neck for half a second before refocusing on your face.

“uh… yeah,” you murmured, staring pointedly at the page.

for a few tense beats, you felt like he might call you out for it.

but instead, he just leaned back slightly, pen tapping once against the edge of the table.

“then get back on track,” he said firmly, his gaze somehow impassive and heavy all at once.

sure, you thought bitterly to yourself. easier said than done... when the guy helping you has literal pornstar hands.

chan’s voice cuts through your thoughts once again, a faint edge to it this time that told you he wasn’t exactly sold on the idea that you weren’t wasting his time here. “you sure you’re ready for this?” he asked, tapping your mostly blank notebook with the end of his pen.

you blinked out of your haze and nodded way too quickly. “yeah. totally ready. so ready.”

you absolutely, 100%, did not feel ready. not when you were currently dangling a very loose grip on your academic salvation— and yout raging hormones— and failing at both. yet somehow chan managed to keep his composure as if this wasn’t a complete minefield of professional boundaries.

meanwhile, you were over here sweating bullets.

“alright,” he said, leaning forward again, his broad shoulders casually brushing against yours. if he noticed the way you stiffened, he didn’t say anything. “let’s start simple… p-value hypothesis testing. what’s the first step?”

you stared at the page. your brain immediately short circuited.

what’s a p-value, again? what was anything?

chan waited a single beat, then sighed softly, setting his pen down. “you… don’t know the first step, do you?”

oh god. here it came. the humiliation. the “i knew it” look. maybe even a quiet dismissal to wrap things up early before sending you sliding further into a deeper pit of failure.

you started to stammer out some sort of excuse (“oh, i studied this, i promise- okay, maybe not entirely, but i—”), but chan tilted his head and spoke before you could spiral completely.

“it’s fine if you don’t,” he said casually, folding his arms on the table. “that’s why you’re here, right? because you don’t know it yet. the whole point is to fix that.”

you froze.

his tone was impossibly calm, but something beneath it made your breath hitch. if you didn’t know any better, you’d almost call the sharpness soothing.

“right,” you muttered, shrinking a little further. “my bad. let’s…start again.”

chan gave a faint dimpled look as he leaned over the page and grabbed your pen. the pen you were holding. his hand accidentally brushed yours in the process, skin startlingly warm where it touched you. you nearly yelped.

“relax,” he said, not unkindly. “no one’s grading you here, except me.”

unfortunately for you, that felt so much worse..

+

after nearly an hour with his voice calmly talking you through samples, datasets, and linear regression analysis (all concepts that still felt vaguely indistinguishable from alien geometry), you’d somehow managed to make marginal progress— and chan had seemingly noticed.

“see? not bad,” he remarked as he glanced over your most recent set of notes, his eyebrows raising slightly. your handwriting was a little cleaner now, still a chaotic scrawl, but at least things looked almost organized. “you’ve got a handle on it.”

your chest filled with unexpected relief at his words. “you mean i’m not… a complete disaster?”

chan shrugged, brushing his hands over the table before shooting you a teasing grin. “i wouldn’t say that. you’re still a mess.”

you gawked at him. “seriously?”

“but,” he added, “you’re trying. i’ll give you that.”

you weren’t sure whether to hide your face or laugh until you cried, so you settled for rolling your eyes instead. his grin only deepened.

god, why did he have to look so good when he was being insufferable?

you glanced toward the books spread across the table, half a dozen equations and diagrams still staring back at you, and exhaled, hoping the knot in your chest would loosen. it didn’t. of course it didn’t.

the truth was, your nerves hadn’t settled once since you walked through his door. it wasn’t just the teasing remarks or the way he seemed to dig effortlessly under your skin with every perfectly timed knowing glance. it was the way he felt.

chan had this aura about him.

commanding, without shouting. stern, but not cruel. you couldn’t help but want to throw yourself at his feet and say, yes, i’ll sit here and listen for hours if it makes you keep talking. please don’t stop talking.

and okay, that was probably not the best train of thought to have while sitting in front of the TA who controlled your grades. but still.

you were trying.

when the session finally came to an end, you shuffled awkwardly as chan walked you back toward the door, your tote bag once again slung over your shoulder.

“thanks for… all of that,” you started, uncomfortably aware of how clammy your hands felt as they smoothed over the strap. “i know it’s not easy to deal with a failing, uh, wreck of a human being, but—”

“you’re not a wreck,” chan interrupted, his hand pausing briefly on the doorknob as he turned to face you. something in his tone was softer, not as sharp as usual, but still steady enough to stop the flow of your words dead in their tracks.

“…i mean,” you mumbled dumbly, unable to recover from the unexpected crack in his voice.

“i’ve had students who don’t try at all,” he continued, resting his shoulder casually against the door. “they show up late, make excuses, push everything onto someone else. but you’re here. you’re trying. that counts for more than you think.”

your brain did at least three flips and a cartwheel.

“oh,” you said after a beat, staring blankly. “thanks?”

chan’s smile this time was faint, but genuine— and it fucking killed you.

“tuesday next week,” he said casually, pulling the door open before looking you over again. “same time.”

you nodded quickly, trying to ignore how the way he was standing, leaning coolly into the doorway, made his dress shirt stretch just enough to outline the definition beneath his forearms— and goddamn it, your brain needed to stop looking for reasons to self-destruct in real time.

“got it,” you replied finally, your voice cracking slightly. “tuesday. next week. your place.”

for one horrible, beat-worthy moment, chan raised his eyebrows at how awkwardly you repeated the words. his lips tilted faintly, that same painstakingly neutral expression etched onto his face again before he glanced to the side.

“good,” he said, brushing his fingers casually through his blond hair. “don’t be late this time.”

you nodded far too quickly as you stepped into the hallway, your breath caught somewhere deep in your chest and refusing to let go until he gave you a final, two-fingered wave and shut the door behind you.

and as you made your way down the hall, heart still pounding, all you could think was:

there’s no way you’ll survive another week alone with him, is there?

+

if anyone had told you that this was how your semester would go— teetering dangerously between educational burnout and a full blown crisis of unhinged attraction— you wouldn’t have believed them.

then again, you also wouldn’t have believed that chan, your hot-as-hell statistics TA (who was only supposed to exist in the corner of your eye as some mildly inappropriate distraction during lecture), would be giving you one-on-one “study help” in his fucking apartment of all places.

honestly, the past week was starting to make your head spin. it wasn’t just the fact that you’d had two entire hours of uninterrupted, semi-casual conversation with him at his place. it was… everything else.

like how every once in a while now, when you passed him on campus, chan would send you this faint, almost smirk-like smile. just enough to acknowledge you in passing— a reminder that he noticed you, remembered you.

and everytime it happened, your stomach would twist.

the good twist. the kind that left an annoying ache inside you and made your face hot for the entirety of your next class.

chan, for his part, was impossible to read. professionally calm, unfailing in his confidence and aloofness, like every interaction he’d ever had with anyone was just another detail to tuck neatly into his increasingly unbothered day.

sometimes, it caught you off guard how unfazed he was, how precise every movement and word that fell from his lips seemed to be. but then there were little cracks. moments when he’d lean just a little too close, brush his hand against yours, or hold your gaze for just a second too long before looking away.

sometimes you wondered if he even noticed he was doing it, but then, there was a darker part of you, the louder part, that wondered if he was doing it on purpose.

if maybe, just maybe, those brief pauses in his movements carried a bit more weight. if maybe they whispered hints of curiosity, intrigue… or something else entirely.

by the time tuesday rolled around, you’d convinced yourself that your life was one endless spiral of humiliation and implosion.

because the mortifying truth was that, consciously or not, your behavior had become downright pathetic lately.

you’d spent hours agonizing over what to wear to your next session with him. subtle. casual. blank canvas vibes. but… you were also a living, breathing person with a functioning set of eyes and weekly terrible thoughts about chan in compromising positions, so— subtlety didn’t last very long.

instead, only twenty minutes before you were set to leave, you’d swapped out your first two outfits for something else entirely; something tight enough to be dangerous, just low-cut enough to hint without outright show.

effortless, you told yourself in the mirror, even though the amount of effort it took for you to tear your eyes away from your own cleavage was anything but subtle. he won’t even notice!

(spoiler: he noticed.)

and, of course, chan— being chan— acted completely immune.

when he opened the door for you this time, his expression barely shifted, except for a quick glance down at you, his gaze lingering for half a second before he looked away entirely.

“hey,” was all he said. and just like that, you were sweating out of places you didn’t even know could sweat.

you followed him inside like you were walking toward your fucking demise.

the studying itself started as normal, or as normal as it could get when your brain was currently tied up in your own delusions.

chan had cleared the table again, leaning back in his chair with the kind of effortless authority you couldn’t stop staring at even if you wanted to.

“you’re on your own for the first one,” he said simply, sliding a freshly written-out problem set across the table toward you. “show me how you’d do it. no help this time.”

on your own. fucking great.

you nodded quickly, eager, but mostly terrified to disappoint him— and immediately grabbed your pen.

his eyes scraped over your page as you worked, his chin resting against his palm in casual appraisal, until finally glancing over somewhere else. probably the wall or the clock or literally anything but you.

but you… couldn’t stop stealing glances at him.

and it was bad.

unhinged, honestly.

your brain was preoccupied with all the places it shouldn’t have been; his shirt pushed up slightly against his forearms again, revealing more of the ink you’d spent days mentally mapping out from last week’s memories. his brows furrowed faintly with concentration. the way his tongue brushed lightly over his lower lip when he leaned forward slightly to grab—

focus, you remind yourself harshly. seriously, shut the hell up. you’re failing.

...except focusing on him was exactly the problem.

by the time you finished the initial review process, you’d written so many questionable numbers that it almost felt embarrassing to show him the work.

“done already?” he asked, his voice pulling your head up.

“uh,” you said dumbly, sliding the notebook toward him far too quickly. “yeah! kind of.”

chan gave you a blank look, but it softened faintly as he flipped through each line of your work, his mouth twitching slightly with what you couldn’t decide was approval or disappointment.

"well, this part’s definitely wrong,” he said lightly, tapping the edge of your paper. “but at least you got one variable right this time. better than last week.”

a laugh bubbled up your throat before you processed it.

chan flicked his gaze back toward you briefly at the sound, his head tilting faintly.

somehow, the tension in your stomach tightened further.

+

it had only been an hour when things started to spiral.

chan leaned forward to clarify yet another equation you’d totally botched halfway through explaining. the subtle movement made your nerves hit their absolute limit, and suddenly, you couldn’t process a single thing he was saying anymore.

you nodded silently, robotically, as he pointed something out, but the tension had grown so unbearably tight that it felt like your body might snap in half if you didn’t get away for at least two seconds.

“uh, do you mind if i use your bathroom?” you blurted out suddenly, your chair scraping against the floor.

chan lifted an eyebrow but offered no resistance. “sure,” he said easily. “second door on the right.”

you slammed the door shut a little quicker than necessary, chest heaving out a conflicted breath as you caught your reflection in the mirror above his sink.

what were you doing?

you hunched forward slightly, your arms gripping the edges of the counter as your eyes scanned your flushed cheeks and slightly blown-out pupils.

this was insane.

you were really about to self-destruct in front of your TA.

taking shallow, forceful breaths, you tried again to reel in what little sense of self you had left.

it wasn’t just that chan was too good-looking for anyone’s health. it was his sharpness, his confidence— his way of seamlessly controlling the room with the smallest tilt of his chin and the faint, lingering bite of his words.

you weren’t just down bad. you were down atrocious.

your gaze drifted toward the sink while you mentally berated yourself over all the reasons this was so beyond inappropriate.

but instead, your eyes caught something else. an unfamiliar flash of color resting near the corner of the counter: a small, unopened box near the toiletries tray.

...a fucking box of condoms.

you blinked at it blankly for half a second before you stiffened in place with realization.

brand new. pristine. unopened. untouched.

what the hell???

a million questions ricocheted through your head all at once, loud and unbearably intrusive.

did he have a girlfriend? did someone bring these over for him? was he just… that prepared?

your face burned fiercely, the ridiculous line of thought spiraling deep enough to make you lightheaded.

if he was seeing someone, then why was the box unopened? and why, why, were you even dissecting this to begin with, as if it mattered in the first place?

you never had a chance anyway, your brain helpfully supplied. you knew it the second you walked into his office for help.

you didn’t know how long you spent in the bathroom, fuming quietly at the mirror and trying to sweat out the flood of shame that was now taking up every corner of your mind.

chan didn’t say anything when you came back.

but the way his gaze trailed over your face briefly— sharp, appraising, uncomfortably still— made you wonder if he could sense it.

worse, the hum of his voice when he asked if you were ready to start again almost sounded amused.

but no, there was no way.

you nodded numbly, sitting back down as the spiral of your thoughts continued to eat at you little by little.

but then.

chan leaned forward again.

this time— too close.

close enough that his hands briefly brushed over yours as you reached to grab your pen, the low murmur of breath at your ear turned something in your chest completely upside down.

“focus,” he said softly, lips barely tilting upward as his fingers tipped briefly over your notebook.

you stared— stunned, entirely flickered into stasis for just a split half second of hesitation.

the air in chan’s apartment felt so much thicker now, way too humid, like something you could taste if you stayed still long enough.

to your credit, you were trying to focus. really, you were.

but focus didn’t come easy when your TA— your stupidly hot, smart, sharp-tongued TA— was sitting across from you with that faint smirk curling on his lips, watching you too closely like he’d figured you out already.

maybe he had.

“so,” chan murmured, snapping you out of your reverie as he slumped ever so slightly further into his chair. you tried your hardest not to track the way his toned thighs stretched against the fabric of his joggers. “you’ve got two choices.”

“two?” you asked breathlessly, blinking way too fast to feel normal.

he tilted his chin slightly, fingers tapping idly against the table.

“either you tell me why you’ve been sitting there not even pretending to pay attention for the last twenty minutes,” he started smoothly, “or we call it a day, and i can stop wasting my time.”

you bit the inside of your cheek to keep from squirming.

that was new.

this wasn’t the calm, teasing chan from the first session. he didn’t even sound annoyed exactly, but there was an edge to his tone now, sharp and slow and cutting enough that you felt trapped.

“i’m- i was paying attention,” you blurted, a little too defensive to sound convincing.

his narrowed gaze told you exactly what he thought about that.

“you sure about that?” he asked, leaning forward now.

“yeah,” you mumbled, voice faltering slightly as he came impossibly close.

his lips curved sharply.

“prove it.”

the blush reached your ears faster than your brain could process what was happening. “prove it?” you repeated dumbly, as though the words had somehow dropped straight in from another dimension.

“mm,” chan hummed lightly, elbows digging into the edge of the table. the sheer confidence radiating from him was unnerving, not over the top, not cocky, but entirely in control.

he tipped his head toward your notebook, his forearms briefly flexing as he gestured for you to pick up the damned pen.

“last equation,” he murmured, and you swore the way his voice dropped made your heart skip a beat. “show me you’ve been paying attention this time.”

unfortunately, there were several factors actively working against you right now.

the first? chan, with his sharp voice and sharper smirk, was close enough to radiate heat, close enough that your knees brushed lightly under the table. the second? there was no fucking way you’d been paying enough attention to actually solve the equation in front of you.

your chest grew tighter by the second as you scrambled uselessly to make sense of it.

for a brief moment, he said nothing— just watched you with this lazy, barely interested gaze, his lips pressed into an almost-smile that you couldn’t read.

“c’mon,” he drawled finally. “you’ve got this, don’t you?”

the edge of his words made your stomach twist with heat.

surely, he didn’t mean… more than what he was saying, right?

you scribbled down the page as best as you could, desperate and embarrassed as you tried to scrawl out whatever guess felt the least wrong.

but before you could even feign confidence over the partial answer you’d written, a hand abruptly darted into your line of vision.

his hand.

chan’s fingers curled over the edge of your workbook as he slid it back toward himself, “wrong.”

your heart plummeted straight into your stomach.

of course it was fucking wrong.

you braced yourself for the usual disappointment or sharp remark. but instead of belittling your work, chan leaned forward again, folding his arms onto the table between you and leaving no room for you to escape his focus.

then, voice low and deliberate, he caught your gaze fully.

“you don’t even try to hide it anymore, do you?”

you froze. your face immediately burned. “what?”

“you’re not here to study,” he said plainly.

your jaw opened and closed uselessly, and you swore your heart was trying to make an escape straight through your ribs.

“you wear this,” chan murmured, his eyes flicking briefly, heatedly, down to the neckline of your fitted top before locking back on yours, “and you expect me not to notice?”

his words sent a wildfire tearing through your entire body.

you struggled to make sense of it all, to explain yourself, to breathe.

he noticed.

this smoking-hot TA, whom you’d been quietly (okay, maybe not so quietly) pining after, noticed. but he didn’t stop there.

chan leaned in further, the confidence practically rolling off of him, and softened his voice even more.

“you’ve got guts, throwing yourself at your TA like this.”

your entire head was a whirlwind of heat and adrenaline.

chan leaned back in his chair for a moment, still studying you like you were an equation he’d already solved in his head.

the glint in his eye left you pinned in place— and you weren’t sure if it was fear or thrill racing through you when he tilted his head.

“get up.”

you blinked hard. “...what?”

“get up,” chan repeated, his tone leaving no room for debate this time.

your legs moved before your brain could catch up, your heart racing wildly as you stood in front of him like it’d been his implicit command all along.

“do you want to keep wasting my time?” he asked, his head tilting slightly, his eyes burning into you like they were stripping you bare.

“n-no,” you stammered.

“then prove it,” he said with maddening calm. his voice was low but full with that commanding edge that kept sending waves of heat to your core.

you opened your mouth uncertainly, but before you could respond, his gaze dropped, gesturing down toward his lap.

and fuck, if that didn’t make your entire foundation shift.

the stretch of his thighs, the bulge visible against the gray of his joggers, the way his legs flexed as he spread them slightly farther apart.

your mouth went dry.

he noticed.

your face burned brighter than ever, your brain scrambling for some rational excuse to back away, but when chan raised an eyebrow at you again, the composure you were grasping at crumbled entirely.

“get on your knees,” he ordered softly.

you were moving before you could think— sinking to the floor, legs folding beneath you as your breaths came out shaky and uneven.

chan wasted no time once you dropped.

“so eager,” he muttered, leaning forward slightly to slip off his sweats. the faint tug of a smirk played on his lips again. “bet you’ve been thinking about this for weeks, huh?”

you swallowed, lips parting slightly as your eyes stayed glued to him.

“let’s see if that mouth is as good as i think it is, then.”

chan spread his legs wider, his joggers now halfway down as his thick cock strained hard under the fabric of his boxers, the outline of it clear enough to make your mouth water.

your eyes tracked the movement as his large hand casually palmed himself through the fabric, letting out a soft grunt as the pressure of his hand teased a bit of relief. he wasn’t even looking at you— his gaze was tilted lazily downward, like he was letting you take in the view. like he wanted you to be as desperate as you clearly were.

“you’re really something, you know,” he muttered, low and taunting, the air between you so tense you could barely breathe. “acting all shy, pretending you’ve been here to study. but this—” his hand rolled against himself once more, squeezing as he finally dragged his eyes back to yours. “this is what you’ve been wanting, huh?”

you couldn’t even think about lying. you just nodded, staying seated on your knees. “...yes.”

that brought another smirk to his lips, one that only deepened as he started to slip his boxers down, letting his cock spring free.

fuck. you’d expected him to be big because, well… of course he was. everything about him was big. his confidence, his presence, his personality. but knowing it and seeing it were two entirely different things.

he was thick, the head a flushed pink and leaking with so much pre that it glistened just faintly in the low kitchen light.

“eyes up here, sweetheart.”

your gaze snapped up immediately, and his mouth twitched again as he caught you.

“if you wanna use that mouth,” he murmured, tone rougher now, “you’re gonna have to ask nicely.”

you weren’t even sure how you were still alive at this point, let alone speaking, but the words stumbled out anyway in a breathless jumble of need.

“please,” you begged, barely above a whisper. “please. i wanna—” your breath hitched as his cock twitched when you said it, making your chest blaze with heat. “i wanna suck your cock, chan. please.”

he tilted his head, watching you closely for a few suffocating seconds before leaning back in his seat and resting one arm lazily along the table.

“go ahead,” he said finally. “show me what you’ve got.”

you didn’t need to be told twice. your hands shot up, tentative at first, but steadying as your fingers curled around the base of his length. the warmth of his skin and the weight of his cock in your hand made you fucking lightheaded.

you gave him a few experimental strokes, and the faint grunt he let out— mild as it was— felt like a goddamn reward.

“that’s it,” he muttered, almost absent-minded, like he was observing you while thinking a million other things at the same time. “don’t be shy now.”

you ducked your head down, tongue darting out to swipe the bead of pre-cum glistening at his tip. just that one tiny taste had your body heating up everywhere at once, floating deliriously between desperation and excitement as you opened your mouth further to glide him in.

he groaned softly as your lips stretched around him, his other hand coming up to rest lightly at the back of your head.

“fuck,” he muttered under his breath, his grip tightening just a little as you took more of him into your mouth. “just like that. good girl.”

the praise hit you like a freight train.

the warm weight of him in your mouth, the salty taste of his skin on your tongue— it was already too much, your thighs instinctively pressing together with each muffled moan and wet sound you made.

“deeper,” chan ordered, his tone growing rougher now, sharper, and that alone was enough to set your skin burning like fire.

you let him guide you down further with the hand still resting on the back of your head, his cock sliding over your tongue until it was stretching your throat enough to make your eyes water.

“that’s it,” he groaned again, his voice raspy now. “fuck, you’ve got such a pretty mouth. keep going- don’t stop until you make me cum.”

his words shot straight through your stomach, sending shockwaves of heat pooling between your legs as you bobbed your head, hollowing out your cheeks until he groaned louder.

“you like that, huh?” he said, his grip tightening as a clear bite sharpened his tone. “look at you. so desperate to please me. so desperate to get your TA to cum down your throat.”

you moaned softly at his words, your sounds muffled and messy as you worked your mouth around him, each stroke sinking deeper and deeper.

“shit,” chan hissed, his hips jerking slightly as his cock filled you again and again. “you’re too fucking good at this.”

you barely registered the filthy compliment over the blood rushing through your ears, your focus narrowed to the ragged sounds leaving his mouth as his composure began to slip.

his grip on your head tightened just slightly, enough to keep you in place as his hips rocked forward once, twice— fucking gently into your mouth like he needed to feel you take him even deeper.

“gonna cum,” he grunted, more ragged now as his movements stuttered. “fuck, sweetheart. take it all.”

before you could even think to react, chan groaned low and deep, his head tipping back as heavy spurts of his release shot down your throat. the taste flooded your mouth immediately, thick and milky ropes as you swallowed everything he gave you without hesitation.

his chest heaved as his hips sank back slightly, his grip finally easing from the back of your head.

“holy shit,” he muttered under his breath, a faint laugh pushing out with his exhale as his hand tipped briefly under your chin, guiding your face back up toward him.

you stared up at him, your lips slightly swollen and humiliatingly wet, and the sight alone pulled another satisfied smirk from his mouth.

“such a good little thing,” he murmured, his thumb brushing briefly across your cheekbone.

you swallowed again, your cheeks heating at the praise, but any words you could’ve said were immediately lost when chan shifted in his chair, suddenly leaning forward.

“you didn’t think we were done, did you?”

your stomach flipped entirely.

his hands moved fast, steady as they guided you to your feet before nudging you gently against the corner of the table. it wasn’t until he’d sunk to his knees in front of you that your brain finally caught up.

“chan—” you started, but the sound broke off entirely as his hands sliced up under the hem of your skirt, pushing the fabric up toward your hips.

“quiet,” he murmured, his lips brushing faintly against your thigh when he lowered his head. “let me show you how much better this can feel when you let me do all the work.”

your knees nearly gave out, your breath hitching sharply in your chest as his hands gripped firmly at your thighs.

before you could even brace yourself, chan had slipped your panties down in one smooth movement, leaving you bare and completely at his mercy.

“fuck,” he muttered softly, almost like he was speaking to himself—his thumb brushing faintly against your inner thigh as his head tipped downward, his lips hovering just over your now impossibly wet cunt. “you’re already dripping for me. pathetic little thing.”

you whimpered as his tongue darted out to taste you, his movements slow, deliberate, clearly reveling in every sound leaving your mouth.

he started soft, dragging lazy circles against you that made heat pulse low in your stomach, but it didn’t take long for him to pick up the pace.

his lips wrapped around your clit, sucking sharply before your knees buckled. he growled against you, his arm curling around the back of your leg to keep you locked firmly into place.

“not going anywhere,” he muttered, his voice muffled against your skin. “gonna make you cum just like this. ruin you on my tongue.”

you moaned, your head falling back as one of your hands flew to grip the edge of the table for balance while the other curled uselessly into his hair. his dark eyes flickered up to you, sharp and direct, and fuck if that wasn’t worse.

“look at you,” he murmured, barely pausing to speak as his tongue sank deeper against you. “you’re so desperate you can’t even stand.”

you whimpered harder as he slid a single digit inside of you, pumping slowly at first before curling— learning exactly where to aim before adding a second and setting you completely on fire.

“fuck- chan, i—”

“that’s right,” he groaned against you, his pace only increasing with each ragged sound leaving your mouth. “cum for me. now.”

and when your orgasm hit— sharp and sudden and impossibly strong— you cried out, your legs nearly shaking from the pressure as chan’s hands steadied you through it, chasing your high relentlessly.

your legs were still trembling, completely jelly when chan pulled back from between your thighs, his lips glistening in a way that should have been absolutely illegal.

he looked sinfully smug as he rose to his full height, towering over you now as you practically slumped against the table. your chest heaved, your body still tingling from the orgasm he’d just ripped out of you, and yet… it wasn’t enough.

you wanted more. needed more.

and chan? chan could see it written all over your face.

“look at this mess,” he murmured, his deep voice carrying a mix of pride and mockery. his hand reached out, the pad of his thumb brushing over your swollen bottom lip. “such a needy little thing. you’re not even satisfied after cumming all over my tongue, are you?”

you shook your head slightly, biting your lip and meeting his eyes with that same look he’d teased you for earlier— desperation. hunger.

his gaze dragged down to where your panties now hung uselessly around your ankle.

“you want me to fuck you that badly, huh?”

you nodded, no hesitation this time— your pride was long gone anyway. “please,” you whispered, your voice small and trembling.

that was all it took.

chan’s demeanor changed into something darker, something more dangerous, as he grabbed your hips and spun you around in one swift movement until your ass pressed against the cold edge of the table. before you could even catch your own breath, his lips were on you. hot, firm, and overwhelming as he kissed you like his life depended on it.

you moaned into his mouth, arms subconsciously wrapping around his neck as he pulled you closer, his body slotting perfectly against yours. his hand slipped up under your shirt, fingers grazing the bare skin of your waist before he yanked it off entirely, tossing it somewhere behind him.

“fuck,” he muttered into your mouth. “you’re so fucking perfect.”

his hands found your tits next, slipping underneath your bra and squeezing hard, groaning as his thumbs brushed over your hardened nipples.

“these fucking tits,” he rasped, his voice dropping an octave as his lips moved against your jaw, trailing kisses down your neck. “been dying to get my hands on them. watching you in those tight little tops, tempting me every fucking second.”

you gasped when he suddenly tugged down the cups of your bra and latched his mouth onto one of your nipples, his wet tongue flicking over it before sucking hard.

“fuck, chan,” you moaned, your back arching instinctively into him.

he pulled back just enough to grin up at you, his lips shining with spit. “you like that, baby?” he murmured, his tone dripping with satisfaction. “needy thing like you just lives for attention, huh?”

you nodded again, words completely failing you as he let his hands slide lower.

without warning, chan hoisted you up onto the table, his strong hands gripping your thighs hard enough to leave marks as he pulled you to the edge. the cool surface pressed against your skin, a direct contrast to the liquid heat pooling between your legs. he yanked you to the edge effortlessly, spreading you out for him like you belonged there.

“stay right there,” he ordered, his lips ghosting over yours briefly before he stepped back to slide his boxers down fully, his cock springing free again and making your stomach twist with anticipation.

“you’ve been begging for this since the first day you showed up to my office hours,” he continued, his voice rough and low as he stroked himself slowly, his gaze locked on you like he wanted to eat you alive. “and now you’re gonna take it. every. fucking. inch.”

you whimpered, squirming on the table, because he was right. the need had been eating you alive, every accidental graze of his hand or brush of his shoulder only fueling the fire until you couldn’t see straight. your breath caught as he grabbed your thighs again, spreading you wide for him, his cock brushing against your entrance.

“fucking dripping,” chan growled under his breath, almost to himself as he dragged the tip through your wetness, spreading it messily. “don’t worry, baby. i’ll fill you up so good, there won’t even be room to think about anyone else.”

before you could process those words, he pushed in.

the stretch was immediate, a maddening burn that teetered on the brink of pain and unbearable pleasure. he was big— so thick, so fucking big it felt like he was splitting you open, inch by inch, pushing so deep your mind went blank.

“oh my godd—” you gasped, throwing your head back as your hands scrambled for leverage, gripping his shoulders like your life depended on it. your thighs trembled as he pressed forward relentlessly, not stopping till his hips were flush against yours and every inch of him was crammed inside you, his cock filling you so completely it felt like he was rearranging you from the inside out.

“god,” chan groaned, his cock pulsing as your walls clenched hard around him like a vice. his head dropped forward, and he growled low in his throat, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your thighs, pinning you in place. “you’re so fucking tight. gripping me like you don’t want me to pull out. you’re greedy for it, aren’t you?”

you moaned weakly, unable to form coherent words, too overwhelmed by the way he stretched you, by the way your pussy wouldn’t stop fluttering and sucking him in even deeper. a lewd, wet squelch filled the air as he shifted his hips, pulling out just slightly before easing back in.

“thereee it is,” he growled, his dark eyes watching your face intently as your lips parted with a choked gasp. his thumb brushed over your bottom lip almost gently, “taking me so fucking good, baby. like you were made for me. made to take this cock.”

your nails clawed at his back, leaving angry red trails as he began to move in earnest. he pulled almost all the way out, leaving just the thick head of his cock stretching your entrance, before slamming back in with enough force to send your whole body jolting backward. the table creaked, but chan’s pace never faltered.

“fuck- chan—” you sobbed, each thrust punching the air out of your lungs. your thighs quivered uncontrollably as his cock dragged over every sensitive spot inside you, hitting so deep it felt impossible. shame burned low in your stomach with every wet squelch that escaped from between your legs, echoing obscenely in the room, but he only groaned louder at the sound.

“gonna make you scream, baby,” he rasped, his tone rough and uneven as he pounded harder, faster, his grip on your body so tight it felt like you were fused together. “gonna make sure this pussy remembers me. so tight, fuck. can feel you dripping all over me- you hear that? that’s how fucking bad you want it.”

all ou could do was nod, your brain too fogged with pleasure to string together a response. your body was limp against him, letting him use you how he wanted— and god, it felt so good. you clenched around him on instinct, the raw pressure of him stretching you bringing you closer and closer to the edge with every brutal thrust.

“look at you,” chan muttered filthily, his hand coming up to grip your jaw as he leaned in, his nose brushing against yours. “so fucking wrecked already, and i’m not even done yet. you like this? having my cock splitting you open like this?”

“yesyes- fuck, yes—” you babbled, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes from the pressure, the intensity, the sheer, overwhelming fullness.

“that’s my girl,” he growled, shifting his grip to your throat, his fingers tightening just enough to make you gasp. “you’re mine now. you hear me? no one else gets to fuck you like this. no one else gets to make you cum.”

his words unraveled something deep inside you, sending molten heat racing down your spine to your core. when his thumb slipped down between your bodies, finding your clit and rubbing harsh circles against the swollen bundle of nerves, the coil tightening in your belly snapped with brutal force.

“mmpph- chan- ’m gonna- i’m—”

“do it,” he snarled, his cock slamming into you without mercy as his thumb worked faster. “fucking cum all over me. let me feel this pussy milk my cock.”

the words sent you over the edge, your vision going white as your orgasm ripped through you violently. your entire body tensed as waves of pleasure crashed over you, so powerful it felt unending. you cried out his name shamelessly, your walls clamping down around him so tight he cursed loudly, his thrusts becoming erratic.

“shitshiit- fuck- you’re gonna make me—” chan groaned, and a second later he buried himself deep inside you with one final thrust, his hips grinding against yours as he came hard. he filled you with hot, thick spurts of his cum, so much you swore you felt it flooding you completely, dripping from where you were still stretched around him. his head fell to the crook of your neck as he groaned low and broken, his body trembling with the force of his orgasm.

for a moment, the room was filled only with the sound of harsh breathing and your heart pounding in your ears. chan pressed messy, lingering kisses to the damp skin of your shoulder as his hands wandered down your body, soothing the marks his grip had left behind.

“did so good for me,” he eventually, his lips brushing against your temple as he leaned up just enough to press a kiss to your swollen lips. “so fucking perfect.”

+

chan didn’t let you move for a long time after that.

he insisted on cleaning you up himself, holding you gently as if you’d break if he touched you too hard now. it was a stark contrast to the man who had just fucked you into oblivion minutes earlier, but the shift made your heart ache in the best way.

and as he kissed you softly, whispering how beautiful you were, how proud he was of you for taking him so well, you felt something else settle deep in your chest.

this wasn’t just a onetime thing anymore.

not the way chan kissed you like he didn’t want to stop. not the way he held you like you mattered everything to him.

this man wasn’t going anywhere— and you weren’t, either.

it made you laugh, softly, almost deliriously, as he pulled you into his lap again.

“what’s so funny?” he asked, tilting his head curiously.

“nothing,” you murmured, your lips curving upward. “just… funny how i was losing my mind over finding condoms in your bathroom cabinet when... you didn’t even use them.”

chan blinked at you, then snorted with laughter, pulling you tighter against him.

“don’t need them,” he said simply, burying his face in the crook of your neck as his fingers traced lazy patterns against your bare back. “not with you. never with you.”

you smiled, warmth spreading through your chest as you curled into him, completely at peace.

your grades were safe. your heart was safe. and chan?

chan looked at you like no one else in the world would ever come close.

and really...

what more could you have asked for?