[Fic] Drabble Dump
Title: Day Man
Pairing: Kai/Suho
Rating: NC17
Length: 1900w
Warning: vampires, blood, some stray body parts
Summary: Joonmyun may be immortal, but he still needs Jongin to clean up after him.
Joonmyun knows he's screwed up when he sees Jongin's eyes linger on the blood still dripping from his fingertips. There used to be a time when Jongin would believe Joonmyun's feigned innocence with a shake of his head, but right now all Joonmyun gets is a hard glare.
"The rug is ruined," is the first thing Jongin says and Joonmyun keeps his face impassive through his amusement. Ruined is an understatement. Joonmyun had lost his temper and now the various body parts of three people are strewn over the antique rug.
Any other human would balk in the presence of the oldest, most ruthless vampire in the territory, but Jongin doesn't. That's why Joonmyun had handpicked him, had orchestrated getting him fired from his job as a detective and then scooped him up in the aftermath. It's also why Joonmyun's cold, dead heart warms over when Jongin is near.
A team of cleaners pour through the entrance to Joonmyun's sitting room and Joonmyun takes his leave. His strides are measured, taking care to leave as minute a blood trail as possible. His suit is ruined too and it's a shame. He liked this one.
The expensive fabric tears away easily and Joonmyun leaves a path through the bathroom on his way to the shower. He gives pause when he catches his reflection in the mirror. There's blood drying around his mouth and his chin absolutely coated. It travels in slowing crimson trails down his neck, stopping where it had soaked into the collar of his shirt. His eyes are still red from a fresh feeding although his rampage had stemmed from anger, not hunger. Still, it was a shame to let perfectly edible blood go to waste.
Joonmyun's shower is short and to the point, rinsing the remnants of red down the drain and cleaning all traces from his skin. He can sense Jongin waiting for him in his bedroom and it adds a twinge of impatience to his movements. He still takes his time in drying, hanging the damp towel to dry before padding into his room, unabashedly naked.
Jongin is leaning against a bedpost, arms crossed as he watches Joonmyun enter. "It's going to be difficult to keep you safe if you insist on picking apart politicians like hors d'oeuvres."
Joonmyun shrugs indifferently, a hand ruffling through his wet hair. "How's the new guy working out? What was his name again?"
"Chanyeol," Jongin answers with a sigh. "And he's alright. I have him taking your trash down to Amber’s farm for the pigs."
"Alright isn't going to cut it in this world." Joonmyun heads to his closet, opening the double doors to search for something new to wear.
"He's getting there. It's all still new to him." Jongin lets out a soft laugh and Joonmyun turns with wide eyes because laughter is something he seldom hears, especially from his guardian. "You should have seen his face when we ran into the mayor at the Red Inn.” The Red Inn is a whorehouse in Joonmyun’s territory that employs humans who cater to vampires and humans who can afford the high price. Joonmyun uses it as a tool to draw in people he wishes to gain favor with so his business and other activities are left in the dark. “You'd think someone just squeezed a lemon in his mouth."
There's an uncomfortable pressure in Joonmyun's chest when it occurs to him that Jongin might actually like Chanyeol. Joonmyun's never figured out what Jongin is to him. Jongin is a dedicated guard, a champion tried and tested, but he's also so much more. The burn of jealousy is unfamiliar even as it coils through Joonmyun's gut. "If he can't handle the reality, he'll have to be wiped and replaced."
Jongin's face falls. "He's adjusting quicker than most. What's with the hostility?"
There are things Joonmyun would say if he were a braver man, but Jongin is one thing he knows that could slip out of his grasp like water through a sieve. Jongin could disappear if he wanted, hide where Joonmyun can never find him and Joonmyun can't risk it. So he keeps it all bottled in, turning back to pick through his closet in silence.
Joonmyun feels the heat of Jongin's chest against his back, had expected it, yet it still takes him by surprise. The one thing that's more rare than Jongin's laughter is his touch.
"You know I belong only to you," Jongin whispers, his lips grazing the shell of Joonmyun's ear. It sends a ripple of affection through Joonmyun and he spins so he can grab the collar of Jongin's neatly pressed shirt and pull him down for a kiss.
"I worry," Joonmyun admits, eyes flicking up to stare into dark brown. Jongin’s mouth twitches up on one side briefly. “I never know what it is that you want.”
“I want you,” Jongin offers, head tilting to the side. “Isn’t that enough?”
Joonmyun’s hands smooth over the wrinkles he left on Jongin’s shirt and then wind around Jongin’s torso so he can run his thumbs up Jongin’s spine. He stands on his toes, hyper aware of the beating of Jongin’s heart, the smell of blood pumping steadily through his veins. His nose pushes into Jongin’s throat, leading up until bumping against his jaw. “But you won’t take my bite.”
Jongin hums and Joonmyun can feel it travel down his neck and into his chest. “If I did, who would protect you? Who would keep the hunters out? Who would stop Kyungsoo from trying to storm in here and take your head because you took his favorite toy a century and a half ago?”
“You heard about that?” Joonmyun asks, a little appalled that Jongin knows this about him. He’d been brash back then, quick(er) to act first and leave the consequences for later.
“I’ve heard lots of things.” Jongin rests his hands on Joonmyun’s hips, his fingertips pushing into alabaster skin. “And I’m still here.” Jongin kisses Joonmyun this time, soft and sweet.
“I don’t know what I’d do if you were killed,” Joonmyun finally admits and he sees the momentary surprise flit over Jongin’s handsome features. “The only way I know to protect you is to turn you and you won’t let me.”
“I’m good at what I do, Joonmyun. I’m fucking great at it.”
“Sehun’s day men were great and they were slaughtered a week ago.” Joonmyun swallows down the sharp taste of blood still in his mouth. “What if that was you?”
Jongin leans in, resting his forehead on Joonmyun’s. “That’s life.”
“It doesn’t have to be.”
Joonmyun recognizes the placating smile on Jongin’s lips for what it is, but he accepts the way Jongin pulls him closer and kisses him as a distraction. It’s a far cry from the previous one. The force would leave Joonmyun’s mouth bruised if he were human. He nicks Jongin’s lower lip purposely just to hear the way Jongin moans when his tongue pushes on the wound.
Jongin is a hard man to break - he has to be in this line of work, in a world this dark. But Joonmyun likes to think he sees more of Jongin than most. Critical eyes soften, lids drooping and head tipping back when Joonmyun gets Jongin on the bed, pushing him down with enough force for the springs in the mattress to squeak dangerously.
This is easy; Joonmyun is well versed in Jongin’s body and how to strip him down to raw nerves and trembling thighs. He likes to watch the way Jongin’s throat works and the white of his knuckles when his fingers curl into the blanket so he can push down for more as Joonmyun stretches him open.
Joonmyun loves to leave dark bruises along Jongin’s hips, suck red and purple marks above where his cock is curved upward and leaking across his stomach. The fresh blood in Joonmyun’s body has his own cock hard and slipping into Jongin’s pliant body until his hips are flush with Jongin’s ass. Jongin moans his name, looking up at Joonmyun with dilated pupils and pink cheeks as his legs curve around Joonmyun’s waist.
Joonmyun fucks Jongin in the middle of his king size bed, admiring the way his body rocks atop the midnight blue comforter and beads of sweat form along his brow. Like this, spread out for Joonmyun to take, Jongin is vulnerable and Joonmyun could take what he wants, could sink his aching teeth into Jongin’s throat and drink all he is before feeding it back to him. And Jongin would finally be his for eternity, but at what Joonmyun deems too high a cost. When he turns Jongin, it will be because Jongin wants it.
And Joonmyun clings to the belief that one day Jongin will want it.
Jongin urges Joonmyun to move faster, thrust deeper with every push in. Joonmyun bends over Jongin enough to feel every exhale across his face, hear every whimper of pleasure that dies in Jongin’s throat. There’s beauty in the way Jongin bends around him, trying to touch as much of Joonmyun as he can.
Joonmyun slips his hand between their bodies, running his palm down Jongin’s cock. It throbs in his hold and Joonmyun fucks into Jongin with sharp snaps of his hips that will leave bruises on the insides of his thighs for days. Jongin moans loud, panting through his mouth and Joonmyun pumps his cock until Jongin goes rigid, warm ropes of white streaking down Joonmyun’s fingers and onto Jongin’s stomach.
Joonmyun can’t come - something he lost the ability to do when he was turned - but his body still mimics the sensation and he grinds his cock through the pulsing of Jongin’s climax until he reaches his own.
Jongin hooks his arms around Joonmyun’s neck and keeps his legs around his waist as his breathing slows to a more normal level. Joonmyun revels in it, leaves soft kisses over Jongin’s neck and jaw until Jongin pushes him away with a laugh because he’s ticklish.
Joonmyun hears Jongin’s phone vibrating before Jongin does and the moment is ruined. Jongin extricates himself from Joonmyun’s arms and digs in his pants pocket to find it before answering.
“There’s been an altercation with Baekhyun at the Red Inn,” Joonmyun hears Chanyeol say, picking up on the slight tremor of fear in the new recruit’s voice.
“Alright, I’ll be right there.” Jongin ends the call and looks over at Joonmyun with an apologetic smile. “Duty calls.”
“I suppose it does.”
Jongin crawls over and cups Joonmyun’s face before he kisses him. “Unless you want to start a war over a bloodwhore. . . ?”
Joonmyun sits up, pulling Jongin into his lap for a better kiss. “Come back when it’s done?”
“It’s nearly sunrise. You’ll be asleep and I have a job to do.”
“Part of your job is to watch over me,” Joonmyun teases. “Let Chanyeol take over for a day.”
“Now you trust him?” Jongin asks with a laugh.
“Hardly, but I trust you and if you think he’s up to it, I’ll believe you.”
Jongin sighs, knocking his forehead on Joonmyun’s. “Alright, but just this once. And only because dealing with Baekhyun always leaves me exhausted.”
Joonmyun steals another kiss before Jongin slips away to redress. He still hasn’t gotten everything he wants, but he’s a step closer in the right direction and that’s enough for now. He’ll wait as long as he has to for Jongin to be ready. Until then, however, he’s going to stay up and wait for Jongin to come back to him.
Title: Taking Risks
Pairing: Tao/Kris
Rating: PG13
Length: 1900w
Warning: a/b/o
Summary: Despite Zitao's reputation, Yifan asks him out anyway.
Yifan feels about six centimeters tall, his self preservation instincts kicking in now that he’s under the scrutiny of an entire table of students. He fights to keep his shoulders square and demeanor casual even if his pride is screaming at him that it wants desperately to stay intact.
But this is a battle of Yifan’s own choosing and he will not back down. In front of him, staring at Yifan as if he’s mildly interesting in an offhand way, is none other than Huang Zitao. He’s one of the most sought after omegas on campus and he’s earned a reputation for turning down every alpha who’s dared approach him. Yifan, despite this knowledge, refused to let it deter him. And now he’s thinking he might have overestimated his odds.
Yifan feels like a piece of meat laid out on a slab, being inspected and sized up to see if he’s worthy. There are several alphas at the table with Zitao and Yifan can smell them all over Zitao, can scent the way they’ve gotten defensive over the omega they’ve taken under their protective wing. And Yifan can’t blame them.
It seems an eternity before Zitao speaks and by then, Yifan’s decided his chances are nil and he’ll accept his fate with his head held high.
“You can pick me up outside my dorm tomorrow at six,” Zitao answers before turning back to his friends.
Yifan stands in shock for another few moments before leaving, a giant smile breaking out on his face. Zitao said yes!
Yifan is moping. Zitao said yes. He’s been pacing through his living room for half an hour, hands in his hair and stomach a twisted wreck of nerves and what’s leftover from his lunch.
“Isn’t this what you wanted?” Lu Han asks from the couch. They’ve been rooming together since freshman year and got along well enough - alphas and betas usually do - to get a place off campus as soon as they could. (The college encourages alphas to live off campus so it doesn’t have to deal with territory issues.)
“Of course it is,” Yifan snaps and Lu Han sticks out his leg on Yifan’s next circuit, tripping the alpha. Yifan lands half on the floor, long limbs spanning the carpet and part of the milk crates they ziptied into a makeshift coffee table.
“I fail to see the problem,” Lu Han answers, waving a hand in the air. “Take him to dinner, woo him out of those tight leather pants and you and your dick can live happily ever after.”
Yifan pulls himself up just enough to sit with his back against the couch and kicks his legs out. “But what if he doesn’t want me or my dick?”
Lu Han snorts. “I’m sorry? Is this Yifan the high and mighty alpha or Yifan the meek little omega I’m talking to because I can’t tell anymore. You’ve never had performance issues before.”
“Zitao is different.”
Yifan can feel the burn of Lu Han’s eyes on the side of his face. “You mean Zitao has standards. I’m surprised he said yes at all.”
“Not helping,” Yifan grunts, dropping his head back to rest on a cushion.
Lu Han leans over and pets through Yifan’s now tangled hair, picking through the blond strands. “Just be yourself.” Lu Han grins. “And I’ll stay elsewhere tonight.”
Yifan sinks lower and sighs. He’s doomed.
Yifan is well and truly fucked when he sees Zitao walking down to meet him, his thighs wrapped in sinfully tight leather and his v-neck cut low enough to tease Yifan with a glimpse of his nipples when he glances down.
“I didn’t keep you waiting, did I?” Zitao asks innocently, although they both know that he did. It’s half an hour past when he said Yifan should meet him and Yifan had almost given up.
Yifan knows that Zitao is seen as stuck-up, that people either slap him in the conquest category or decide he isn’t worth the trouble. He’s heard plenty from the guys in the locker room, especially when one of them is turned down by the picky omega. “He parades his ass around like it’s made of fucking gold. What that bitch needs is a good dicking to fuck the arrogance out of him.”
But Yifan has also seen Zitao tucked away in one of the study nooks in the library, furiously wiping away tears of frustration as he stays up late in the night. He’s seen the way his face softens and lights up when Zitao sees small children and animals. It’s not fair to judge someone solely on the front they put up to protect themselves.
“Only a little,” Yifan answers and he gets a hint of a smile in return.
Yifan takes Zitao to a nice restaurant and watches as Zitao proceeds to order the most expensive thing on the menu and push it away after three bites. Zitao steals bits of Yifan’s dinner off his plate and gives short, one word answers every time Yifan tries to strike up a conversation. The limits of Yifan’s patience are tested as the omega then drags Yifan several blocks away for ice cream that he then has Yifan pay for.
Yifan drives back to the dorms as Zitao wraps his tongue around the strawberry ice cream that’s melting down the cone and dripping onto the upholstery. His fingers clench around the steering wheel and his temper is only dulled by the arousal that surges forward when he makes the mistake of watching Zitao lap melted ice cream off his fingers.
When Zitao gets out of Yifan’s car, leaving his scent permeated in the seat, Yifan gets a half-hearted wave and the pleasure of watching Zitao’s leather clad ass swaying as he makes his way up the sidewalk. As soon as the omega is out of sight, Yifan slams his head on the steering wheel.
He feels like an absolute idiot.
Yifan drives back to his apartment, going over the entire date - if that’s what he can call it - and trying to pinpoint what went wrong. By the time he’s slipping into his dark living room, leaving his shoes by the door, Yifan realizes he’s been taken for a fool. Zitao was never interested. Zitao used him to get a meal and strung him along like a toy.
Yifan snarls, unbuttoning his shirt and flopping on his couch, leaving the lights off so he can wallow in his utter stupidity. He’d been taken by an omega. And not just any omega, but Huang fucking Zitao. To think he’d actually thought he’d had a chance. Maybe Zitao really is what everyone says.
There’s a sinking feeling in Yifan’s stomach at the thought that he’d misjudged Zitao so much. He’d been so sure that Zitao was more than the front he put on, but when granted the chance to show it, Zitao had been more of the same.
Yifan wishes Lu Han hadn’t left for the night. He could use a friendly shoulder to gnaw on.
It’s late. Yifan startles when the doorbell goes off and he contemplates not answering. He has a nice warm spot on the couch cushion already and he’s loathe to give it up. The bell rings again and Yifan reasons that maybe it’s just Lu Han and he’s managed to forget his keys. The beta is no good when it comes to remembering the important things.
When Yifan opens the door, he expects Lu Han to shove his way inside ungratefully. Instead, Yifan sees Zitao standing in the hall, still looking as fucking perfect as he did on their date and Yifan kinda hates him for it. After what Zitao put him through tonight, the least Zitao could do was look bad.
“So here’s the thing,” Zitao begins, one hand ruffling through his hair and the other resting on his cocked hip, “I’m not really an asshole.”
Yifan raises an eyebrow in interest, crossing his arms over his chest. “Go on.”
Zitao wrinkles his nose and chews on his bottom lip. It leaves the skin moist and pink and even after everything, Yifan has this urge to lean down and take it in his mouth.
“Do we have to do this in the hallway?” Zitao looks both ways and bounces on the heels of his feet nervously.
“Yes.” The very idea of Zitao’s scent inside the place he lives would be torturous and Yifan isn’t a masochist.
Zitao sighs and nods. “Right, you’re pissed. And I completely understand because I was a horrible date. It’s just that I have this . . . defensive stance I go into when I’m around unfamiliar alphas. It’s not that I wasn’t interested, but you’re so hot and I have no dating experience and I got flustered and screwed it all up.”
Hope flares hot and bright in Yifan’s chest and he’s lowering his defenses before common sense can kick in. “You weren’t just screwing with me?”
Zitao’s eyes lock on Yifan’s face and drag down down down slowly before running back up, giving his entire body a contemplative once over. “Not even close, but I’d like to if you’ll let me.” Zitao steps forward and Yifan lets the omega slip into his apartment. “Consider it me making it up to you.”
Yifan nearly leaves the door open in his haste to get his hands on Zitao and he thinks he hears the click of it closing, but he’s too driven by the idea of finally being able to touch. He fits a palm on the back of Zitao’s neck, dragging him in for a kiss. And Zitao tastes even better than he smells and he’s so hot, his skin scorching and breath heated as it hits Yifan’s face between kisses when they part for air.
Zitao’s arms curl around Yifan’s shoulders and they stumble over the floor in the still dark apartment until they meet resistance. The wall gives Yifan the leverage to fit his thigh between Zitao’s legs, keeping him still so he can tug on the swell of his lower lip and let it go just so he can chase it again. Zitao lets out the softest, toe curling moan and Yifan dips his tongue into his mouth to coax out another.
The alpha in Yifan is surging forward, demanding Yifan claim Zitao and it takes all his strength to push it down. He pulls away from Zitao, thumb running over the omega’s cheek. The moonlight spilling through the curtains is enough for him to see how wide Zitao’s pupils are, how flush his cheeks are and Yifan’s pride soars at the sight.
“As much as I’d love to accept your offer, I think we should start with a date. A real one.”
Zitao slumps, his fingers curling around the fabric of Yifan’s shirt to tug the alpha forward. “You really are too good to be true,” he says against Yifan’s mouth before kissing him. “I think I’ll keep you.”
A very smug Yifan walks through the courtyard with Zitao clinging to his arm the next day, positively thrilled at his scent all over the omega that only strengthens when Zitao keeps stopping to push his nose into Yifan’s throat. They’re going on their first official date tonight and, with any luck, many more will follow.
Title: Cotton
Pairing: Sehun/Xiumin
Rating: NC17
Length: 1600w
Warning: mild come-play/snowballing
Summary: pwp fting panties
Sehun’s never really understood the allure of plain, white cotton panties. There’s plenty to be said of lace or silk or the scraps that barely cover anything, but white cotton? That’s like the chocolate flavored water left ignored as everyone else chooses the chocolate milk instead. Even as he stands in front of his bathroom mirror, inspecting the way the panties fit plainly over his jutting hips and curve along his ass, Sehun doesn’t see what the big deal is.
He has to admit that the cotton feels better against his dick and balls - less scratchy - but if the idea is to get fucked, the panties are going to come off anyway and comfort should be an afterthought.
But Minseok asked, pouted, until Sehun took the garment and trudged into their bathroom, slamming the door harder than necessary just in case Minseok didn’t get the message. If Minseok wants him to wear panties, Sehun wants something that will make him look desirable, sexy, and not like a virginal teenager.
“Are you ever going to come out?” Minseok asks from behind the door, jiggling the locked knob.
Sehun sighs, eyeing the way the panties mold around his junk unimpressively one last time before opening the door. Standing in the hall, one hand on his hip and the other falling back to his side, is Minseok.
Minseok in panties.
Minseok in white cotton panties - the same white cotton panties Sehun is wearing.
Sehun thinks he might be drooling. Minseok has always been unfairly attractive, especially to a virile young man like Sehun, and this isn’t helping. What had been plain and boring on Sehun is alluring on Minseok, hugging around his curvy hips and plush backside, the dark dusting of hair low on Minseok’s stomach disappearing behind white where his cock is pushing out.
When Sehun looks upward, he sees the way Minseok is chewing on his lower lip, the skin pink and wet and fucking glistening from the overhead light. Minseok’s wide eyes are focused on Sehun’s dick and, well, that’s all Sehun needs.
Sehun grabs at Minseok, a wrist in one hand and his arm around Minseok’s waist to pull him flush before he dips for a kiss. The cotton definitely feels nice, especially when Minseok rolls his hips into Sehun’s, moaning softly as Sehun parts Minseok’s lips with his tongue.
“You look so hot,” Minseok breathes, fingers balling in Sehun’s hair to bring him down more. They stumble back, teetering off balance until Minseok’s shoulders hit against the wall. Sehun wedges his knee between Minseok’s thighs, pushing up as Minseok grinds down until they’re rutting together desperately. Sehun can feel Minseok’s cock through both pairs of panties and it rubs against his own until he’s hard and aching, still trapped in cotton.
Minseok’s hands run down, nails scratching red lines over Sehun’s chest before resting flat and pushing him backwards. “Not here.” Minseok’s face is pink, his dark hair a mess and Sehun admires the wet spot near the top of his panties, wanting to drop to his knees for a taste, but Minseok has other ideas.
They end up in their bedroom, Minseok pushing Sehun down onto his hands and knees. Sehun wiggles his ass and gets a slap on his right cheek for it. It wasn’t hard, but Minseok soothes over it with his palm anyway. And then he kisses the knobs of Sehun’s spine, a trail that leads down until he reaches the top of the panties.
Sehun is expecting freedom from the constriction around his cock, but Minseok only slides the cotton down enough to get to his ass, leaving the rest of him trapped. He whines, rocking back in an attempt get Minseok to free him, but it’s useless. All he gets is another slap, this time on the left side.
Minseok slides slick fingers down Sehun’s crack and Sehun gasps, falling to his elbows so his ass juts out. He tries to spread his legs, but the panties keep them from moving and the elastic cuts into his thighs. A wet finger pushes at his rim, teasing and light until it slips inside him. Sehun groans at the intrusion, head falling to the mattress.
Minseok is always thorough, his fingers always so wet when they work Sehun open two, then three at a time. He adds more lube, Sehun shuddering at the squelch that accompanies each thrust. A wet line trails down toward his balls, soaking into the panties.
Sehun tries to spread his legs again when Minseok’s fingers leave him feeling empty. He hazards a look back, moaning when he catches sight of Minseok’s fist running over his cock, coating it in a thick layer of lube now that his panties have been pushed down just enough to get at it. And Sehun wants it inside him. Now.
“Minseok,” he whines, pushing his ass further into the air. “Baby, please.”
Sehun goes lax when he feels one of Minseok’s hands spreading his cheeks, followed by the pressure of his crown against his hole. It’s slippery when Minseok presses inside him, the tip spreading Sehun open the widest before his body sucks in the rest. It’s a quick slide in and they both moan when Minseok’s hips hit against Sehun’s ass.
He’s so full, so wonderfully full and his cock throbs in its cotton prison, balls aching and the need to come starting to prick at his senses. Sehun rocks forward, relishing that feeling of Minseok’s cock sliding along his walls before he pushes back to fuck himself. He doesn’t want to wait, can’t hold back when Minseok makes him feel so amazing.
Minseok’s hands cup his ass, spreading his cheeks as he takes over. His thrusts are hard and slow and Sehun appreciates the slick glide, the stretch that still throbs around his rim when Minseok almost pulls out. The pleasure spreads through him like poison in his veins, building stronger with every thrust and eating away at his sanity.
Sehun moans into their blanket, nearly sobbing when he tries to spread his thighs and the panties keep him from being able to. He wants to sink to the bed, stretch himself wide for Minseok, but the elastic band has him trapped.
Minseok goes faster, leaning over Sehun for leverage as the sound of skin slapping nearly drowns out Sehun’s raspy moans. Sehun reaches back, digs his fingers into Minseok’s thighs to pull him in more. Minseok fucks him even faster, moaning praises against the skin of Sehun’s back. You feel amazing around me. I could fuck you all night. And finally, next time I want you to fuck me like this.
Sehun nearly comes from the thought alone, his cock throbbing painfully and he tries to brace his weight, grind his hips back for just a little more. The grip Minseok has on Sehun’s side loosens, his palm running hot over Sehun’s stomach and down to the edge of his panties. Minseok doesn’t falter even when he moves the cotton away just enough for Sehun’s cock to spring free.
All it takes is the feather-light touch of Minseok’s fingers running along the underside of his cock for Sehun to come. He nearly blacks out, every muscle in his body going rigid, his ass clamping down around Minseok’s cock and the shock of it forcing his eyes to roll back in his head.
Minseok strokes Sehun off until he can’t come anymore, his thighs trembling and aching and arms about to give out. Everything is too sensitive and Sehun pushes at Minseok so he pulls out. Sehun chokes out a noise at the sudden emptiness.
Despite how heavy his limbs feel, how sore his thighs are from the panties, Sehun turns and takes Minseok cock in his hands. He fists the base, stroking him off with short jerks while twisting around the crown with his other hand. Sehun looks up at Minseok, pleased at the pink in his cheeks and the affectionate, lustful gaze directed at him.
Sehun goes faster, thumbing over the slit of Minseok’s cock. Minseok nearly falls, reaching out to rest a hand on Sehun’s shoulder to steady himself. With a knowing smirk, Sehun lowers his face and opens his mouth, his tongue hanging just under the tip of his cock.
Minseok loses it, moaning out Sehun’s name as ropes of come land on Sehun’s face and tongue. He catches as much of it as he can, both hands working to milk every drop. It’s bitter and thick, sliding down his throat with each swallow. Minseok swipes his thumb through a line on Sehun’s cheek and Sehun leans forward to suck it into his mouth, tonguing all the way around to clean off the come before it falls away.
Minseok slips down onto the bed, wiggling out of the panties and leaving them on the floor. Then he pushes at Sehun who is still busy trying to clean his face so he can slide his panties off too. There are deep red lines in Sehun’s thighs and he’s a filthy mess, but Minseok crawls over him for a kiss anyway.
“I meant it,” Minseok says as he licks at a missed spot of come on Sehun’s chin and then pushes it into Sehun’s mouth. “I want you to fuck me just like that.”
Sehun grins, lifting his legs to wrap them around Minseok’s waist. “Sounds perfect.”
Perfect.
Title: Territory Dispute
Pairing: Luhan/Chen
Rating: NC17
Length: 950w
Warning: a/b/o
Summary: Lu Han starts a war with his roommate.
The kitchen smells like a combination of Minseok, Jongin and sweat. Lu Han’s nose wrinkles at the scent and he backs out of the room for fresh air. He only pauses long enough to add air freshener to the grocery list before heading to the living room and making the mistake of sitting on the couch.
The couch smells like Minseok, Jongin, sweat and come. Lu Han slides off with a shudder and pulls out his phone to call Jongdae. He’s so tired of their apartment reeking of alpha. As a beta, Lu Han’s never had that underlying urge to mark his territory, but he’s starting to.
“I’m - so - fucking - tired - of - smelling - them - everywhere,” Lu Han complains even if his companion isn’t listening.
Jongdae is a little occupied with Lu Han’s dick up his ass, fucking him over the smooth surface of Lu Han and Minseok’s kitchen table. He doesn’t care about Lu Han’s vendetta to get Minseok and his omega Jongin to quit leaving their stink everywhere, but if this is Lu Han’s solution, Jongdae is a willing participant. His jaw falls slack, a scream building in his throat that accompanies the heated pleasure racing up from his ass.
Lu Han’s always encouraged Jongdae to be vocal, so he is. His moans are loud, echoing off the cabinets and counters, reverberating and unceasing. It’s the type of noise that Lu Han would find annoying in porn, but Jongdae’s voice is fucking perfect. Lu Han thrusts faster, hands on the backs of Jongdae’s knees to push them up to his boyfriend’s chest.
Jongdae keens, head back and neck strained as he belts out these moans that are liable to earn them a noise complaint from the neighbors. Lu Han may not be an alpha, might not be able to knot him, but he’s still the best fuck Jongdae’s ever had. He’s also the most enthusiastic.
Jongdae’s entire body is shunted over the table and his voice begins to crack from the relentless, brutal way Lu Han is fucking him open. He’s almost there, so close he can taste it and his breath catches, balls drawing tight as his orgasm threatens to wash over him.
Lu Han stops. “Not yet baby.”
It takes Jongdae a moment to realize that Lu Han really, actually stopped and he sits up, slapping the side of Lu Han’s arm hard. “What the fuck?”
Lu Han doesn’t seem bothered. He gives Jongdae a smile and leans forward enough to leave a chaste kiss on Jongdae’s lips. “You’re going to come on the couch.”
“What?”Jongdae chokes out even as Lu Han is plucking him off the table. They haven’t even made it to the couch before Jongdae smells it and he wiggles in Lu Han’s hold, hissing as the cock in his ass rubs just right. “Don’t you dare set me down in come.”
Lu Han has Jongdae with his knees on the edge of the cushion and hands on the back of the couch, his ass presented in the air. Jongdae gives it a good jiggle, moaning when Lu Han slides back inside him with a deep groan of his own. Without the hard surface of the table wreaking havoc on Jongdae’s back, he can appreciate Lu Han’s steady yet quick pace a lot more.
Jongdae’s head hangs down, fingers gripping tight to the upholstery as Lu Han surges forward and back, his hands cradled around Jongdae’s narrow hips. There will be bruises scattered all over his body come tomorrow, but it will be worth it. The release that eluded him before crawls through Jongdae once more and he swears that if Lu Han stops, he’s going to vivisect his balls.
He voices the thought aloud and Lu Han lets out a huff of laughter that cuts off when Jongdae squeezes purposely around his cock. Jongdae loves how it spurs Lu Han into fucking him faster, harder, the shock of each thrust jolting through Jongdae’s nearly spent body. He’s wound so damn tight, balancing on the tip of a needle with nothing to keep him from teetering off the edge.
Jongdae inhales and holds it, lungs burning and head spinning as his cock throbs, nearly there. When he comes apart, it’s with a belting moan that’s loud and long, every pulse of his climax tearing through his nerves. His hand slips, weight landing on his elbow in a narrow miss. There’s a puddle of his come on the couch cushion, another rope following when Lu han thrusts into him one last time.
Jongdae shudders as Lu Han fills him, barely able to keep himself up as his muscles seize. His throat feels raw and his lips are chapped, but the after sex buzz has Jongdae grinning even as Lu Han pulls out, catching him around the waist with an arm so Jongdae doesn’t fall. “I’ve got you,” Lu Han whispers against Jongdae’s sweaty neck and Jongdae makes a small noise of appreciation. “Let’s go take a bath.”
Jongdae can’t say no to that. Lu Han gives the best sponge baths.
Lu Han wanders out of his bedroom in the morning, scratching through his bedhead when he stops short at the kitchen door. He should have seen this coming.
Minseok has Jongin bent over their stove, a hand twisted in dark strands of hair to keep Jongin’s face to the metal surface as he fucks into him from behind. Lu Han would be impressed by the flexing of Minseok’s thighs, the pretty way the sweat gleams off his skin, but Minseok is erasing the scent Lu Han and Jongdae left last night.
His hands ball into fists at his sides and he stomps his foot like a spoiled brat. THIS IS WAR!
Title: It's All In The Timing
Pairing: Chanyeol/Xiumin
Rating: R
Length: 1250w
Warning: a/b/o, chanyeol's teeth
Summary: Chanyeol picks the most inopportune time to decide he wants Minseok to be his alpha.
Chanyeol always loses a little bit of himself on stage. When he’s not underneath the bright lights, sweating through several layers of clothing and makeup, it’s easy to put things in perspective. He knew going into this that it would be difficult being in a mixed group. SM had wanted to make a name for themselves and they did by shocking everyone when they created a group filled with not only alphas and betas, but omegas as well. It’s usual for alphas and betas to be clustered together, but adding omegas into the equation is volatile.
But they’ve been doing this for three years now. Naturally, the omegas in the group stick together, living in the same small room because it’s always preferable to sleep in a pile - safety in numbers. And even if he’s large, Chanyeol loves draping himself over Jongin just to hear Jongin’s huffs of annoyance as he shoves his knee in Chanyeol’s back to roll him off in the middle of the night.
They are all on a strict regime to keep their natural tendencies to a minimum, and yet sometimes it slips. Chanyeol will occasionally find himself orbiting around an alpha - usually Minseok - without meaning to and it takes a knowing glance from one of the other omegas to pull him out of it. It’s not that they aren’t all friends, but it’s just a lot less complicated to stay away lest something happen.
(Not that Chanyeol hasn’t thought about something happening, but the rewards never seem to outweigh the risks when there’s always a camera shoved somewhere in his personal space.)
With his body overheated and the sweat itching over his skin, Chanyeol feels restless on stage. His long limbs follow well rehearsed choreography, some of it less than perfect because he’s trying not to look at the person dancing in front of him to keep time.
Chanyeol has been nursing a twinge of affection for Minseok for so long now that he’s beginning to worry and it’s been distracting him when he least expects it. For instance, right now Chanyeol hazards a look up to see Minseok thrusting his hips, his hand over the front of his pants and he completely zones out.
What would it feel like to have Minseok between his legs, thrusting into him like that? He envisions Minseok’s small, powerful hands bending Chanyeol how he wants, leaving bruises and scratches that will show the world that he’s taken.
There’s a knot in Chanyeol’s throat that he can’t swallow down and his eyes refuse to leave the dancing figure as Minseok continues the routine. Beside him, Jongin stomps hard on Chanyeol’s foot, but the pain is nothing compared to the scent of Minseok blasting right into Chanyeol’s nose. He whimpers - he audibly whimpers - and takes a step forward.
His body is on autopilot, instincts threading through his veins and controlling his actions. Omegas are naturally submissive, but if there’s something, or someone, they want, all bets are off. Chanyeol proves this when he wraps a large hand around Minseok’s arm, startling the alpha when he spins him around. Before anyone can stop him, Chanyeol bends to bury his nose in Minseok’s neck. With a low moan, he breathes in the heady, addicting scent and his knees go weak.
A pair of sturdy arms wrap around Chanyeol’s waist, almost as if giving him permission, so Chanyeol does. He bites. He bites into the soft skin of Minseok’s neck on stage in front of a stadium of thousands of fans and relishes the dull roar in his ears, the taste of alpha in his teeth even as the rest of his group are now trying to pull the pair apart.
Chanyeol’s stomach drops to the floor and heat sears burning paths through his veins at the primal growl that slips through Minseok’s lips when Chanyeol is ripped from his arms. The background track to their newest single is blaring through the speakers, but no one is bothering to sing, performance forgotten as Minseok fights against two other alphas to get to Chanyeol who is now being dragged off stage.
The staff toss Chanyeol into a dark room, the lock clicking before Chanyeol can get out. His fist slams against wood, rattling the door in its frame, but it doesn’t break. The blood is rushing in his ears, the need to be with Minseok painful now that they’re separated. He wants Minseok to mark him too, needs his chosen alpha to sink his teeth into the back of his neck and hold fast as he fucks him.
A trickle of wetness slides down the insides of Chanyeol’s thighs at the thought of Minseok knotting him and he doubles his efforts to bust his way through the door. It’s only moments later when the door comes open from the other side, nearly ripped off its hinges by a red faced, pissed off Minseok. Chanyeol can still see the imprint of his teeth on Minseok’s neck.
He’s herded backwards as the door shuts again, the light flickering on overhead. Chanyeol is panting, eyes going blurry and head spinning from how fucking amazing Minseok smells. He falls to his knees, head tilted to bare his neck before Minseok even gets to him.
“Fuck Chanyeol,” Minseok growls, his fingers stroking through Chanyeol’s hair softly until he gets a good handful and pulls. “You couldn’t wait until we got back to the dorms?” he demands.
Minseok drags Chanyeol to his feet and even if Chanyeol is looking down at the alpha, they both know Minseok is in charge. Their first kiss is bruising, Chanyeol whimpering as Minseok parts his lips and surges forward.
“I always knew you’d taste amazing,” Minseok pants against Chanyeol’s mouth before tasting him again, tongue dipping into Chanyeol’s mouth.
Chanyeol’s mind shuts down, nothing left save for Minseok Minseok Minseok and he regrets not doing this sooner. Minseok’s always been right there and Chanyeol finally has his hands on him, fingers gripped tight enough to leave a ring of bruises on Minseok’s arms.
All too soon, Minseok pushes him away. Chanyeol stumbles from the force, blinking away the haziness in his vision. Minseok looks flush, his hair a mess and lips slick and pink and Chanyeol can smell his arousal. “I’m not fucking you here,” Minseok explains, running his hands through his hair now.
Disappointment has Chanyeol’s insides twisting and he backs away from Minseok, trying to calm himself. Minseok takes a step forward and Chanyeol nearly falls, bracing himself on the wall to keep from sliding down.
There’s a tentative knock on the door and Chanyeol jumps.
“Van’s ready,” comes Lu Han’s voice and it’s Minseok who answers, Minseok who strides over and takes Chanyeol by the arm to drag him out. They pass by staff and managers on their way out the back and Chanyeol tries to ignore their burning stares.
“Just wait,” Minseok whispers just loud enough for only Chanyeol to hear. “I’m going to have you hanging off my knot for hours, going to fuck you so hard everyone in the building hears you scream my name.”
Minseok pushes Chanyeol into the van and shuts the door, eyeing him up and down like Chanyeol is a decadent meal. “But only after I get my teeth in those thighs of yours.”
Chanyeol feels sorry for the person who has to clean the van because he’s fairly sure he’s just left a puddle in the seat.
Pairing: Kai/Suho
Rating: NC17
Length: 1900w
Warning: vampires, blood, some stray body parts
Summary: Joonmyun may be immortal, but he still needs Jongin to clean up after him.
Joonmyun knows he's screwed up when he sees Jongin's eyes linger on the blood still dripping from his fingertips. There used to be a time when Jongin would believe Joonmyun's feigned innocence with a shake of his head, but right now all Joonmyun gets is a hard glare.
"The rug is ruined," is the first thing Jongin says and Joonmyun keeps his face impassive through his amusement. Ruined is an understatement. Joonmyun had lost his temper and now the various body parts of three people are strewn over the antique rug.
Any other human would balk in the presence of the oldest, most ruthless vampire in the territory, but Jongin doesn't. That's why Joonmyun had handpicked him, had orchestrated getting him fired from his job as a detective and then scooped him up in the aftermath. It's also why Joonmyun's cold, dead heart warms over when Jongin is near.
A team of cleaners pour through the entrance to Joonmyun's sitting room and Joonmyun takes his leave. His strides are measured, taking care to leave as minute a blood trail as possible. His suit is ruined too and it's a shame. He liked this one.
The expensive fabric tears away easily and Joonmyun leaves a path through the bathroom on his way to the shower. He gives pause when he catches his reflection in the mirror. There's blood drying around his mouth and his chin absolutely coated. It travels in slowing crimson trails down his neck, stopping where it had soaked into the collar of his shirt. His eyes are still red from a fresh feeding although his rampage had stemmed from anger, not hunger. Still, it was a shame to let perfectly edible blood go to waste.
Joonmyun's shower is short and to the point, rinsing the remnants of red down the drain and cleaning all traces from his skin. He can sense Jongin waiting for him in his bedroom and it adds a twinge of impatience to his movements. He still takes his time in drying, hanging the damp towel to dry before padding into his room, unabashedly naked.
Jongin is leaning against a bedpost, arms crossed as he watches Joonmyun enter. "It's going to be difficult to keep you safe if you insist on picking apart politicians like hors d'oeuvres."
Joonmyun shrugs indifferently, a hand ruffling through his wet hair. "How's the new guy working out? What was his name again?"
"Chanyeol," Jongin answers with a sigh. "And he's alright. I have him taking your trash down to Amber’s farm for the pigs."
"Alright isn't going to cut it in this world." Joonmyun heads to his closet, opening the double doors to search for something new to wear.
"He's getting there. It's all still new to him." Jongin lets out a soft laugh and Joonmyun turns with wide eyes because laughter is something he seldom hears, especially from his guardian. "You should have seen his face when we ran into the mayor at the Red Inn.” The Red Inn is a whorehouse in Joonmyun’s territory that employs humans who cater to vampires and humans who can afford the high price. Joonmyun uses it as a tool to draw in people he wishes to gain favor with so his business and other activities are left in the dark. “You'd think someone just squeezed a lemon in his mouth."
There's an uncomfortable pressure in Joonmyun's chest when it occurs to him that Jongin might actually like Chanyeol. Joonmyun's never figured out what Jongin is to him. Jongin is a dedicated guard, a champion tried and tested, but he's also so much more. The burn of jealousy is unfamiliar even as it coils through Joonmyun's gut. "If he can't handle the reality, he'll have to be wiped and replaced."
Jongin's face falls. "He's adjusting quicker than most. What's with the hostility?"
There are things Joonmyun would say if he were a braver man, but Jongin is one thing he knows that could slip out of his grasp like water through a sieve. Jongin could disappear if he wanted, hide where Joonmyun can never find him and Joonmyun can't risk it. So he keeps it all bottled in, turning back to pick through his closet in silence.
Joonmyun feels the heat of Jongin's chest against his back, had expected it, yet it still takes him by surprise. The one thing that's more rare than Jongin's laughter is his touch.
"You know I belong only to you," Jongin whispers, his lips grazing the shell of Joonmyun's ear. It sends a ripple of affection through Joonmyun and he spins so he can grab the collar of Jongin's neatly pressed shirt and pull him down for a kiss.
"I worry," Joonmyun admits, eyes flicking up to stare into dark brown. Jongin’s mouth twitches up on one side briefly. “I never know what it is that you want.”
“I want you,” Jongin offers, head tilting to the side. “Isn’t that enough?”
Joonmyun’s hands smooth over the wrinkles he left on Jongin’s shirt and then wind around Jongin’s torso so he can run his thumbs up Jongin’s spine. He stands on his toes, hyper aware of the beating of Jongin’s heart, the smell of blood pumping steadily through his veins. His nose pushes into Jongin’s throat, leading up until bumping against his jaw. “But you won’t take my bite.”
Jongin hums and Joonmyun can feel it travel down his neck and into his chest. “If I did, who would protect you? Who would keep the hunters out? Who would stop Kyungsoo from trying to storm in here and take your head because you took his favorite toy a century and a half ago?”
“You heard about that?” Joonmyun asks, a little appalled that Jongin knows this about him. He’d been brash back then, quick(er) to act first and leave the consequences for later.
“I’ve heard lots of things.” Jongin rests his hands on Joonmyun’s hips, his fingertips pushing into alabaster skin. “And I’m still here.” Jongin kisses Joonmyun this time, soft and sweet.
“I don’t know what I’d do if you were killed,” Joonmyun finally admits and he sees the momentary surprise flit over Jongin’s handsome features. “The only way I know to protect you is to turn you and you won’t let me.”
“I’m good at what I do, Joonmyun. I’m fucking great at it.”
“Sehun’s day men were great and they were slaughtered a week ago.” Joonmyun swallows down the sharp taste of blood still in his mouth. “What if that was you?”
Jongin leans in, resting his forehead on Joonmyun’s. “That’s life.”
“It doesn’t have to be.”
Joonmyun recognizes the placating smile on Jongin’s lips for what it is, but he accepts the way Jongin pulls him closer and kisses him as a distraction. It’s a far cry from the previous one. The force would leave Joonmyun’s mouth bruised if he were human. He nicks Jongin’s lower lip purposely just to hear the way Jongin moans when his tongue pushes on the wound.
Jongin is a hard man to break - he has to be in this line of work, in a world this dark. But Joonmyun likes to think he sees more of Jongin than most. Critical eyes soften, lids drooping and head tipping back when Joonmyun gets Jongin on the bed, pushing him down with enough force for the springs in the mattress to squeak dangerously.
This is easy; Joonmyun is well versed in Jongin’s body and how to strip him down to raw nerves and trembling thighs. He likes to watch the way Jongin’s throat works and the white of his knuckles when his fingers curl into the blanket so he can push down for more as Joonmyun stretches him open.
Joonmyun loves to leave dark bruises along Jongin’s hips, suck red and purple marks above where his cock is curved upward and leaking across his stomach. The fresh blood in Joonmyun’s body has his own cock hard and slipping into Jongin’s pliant body until his hips are flush with Jongin’s ass. Jongin moans his name, looking up at Joonmyun with dilated pupils and pink cheeks as his legs curve around Joonmyun’s waist.
Joonmyun fucks Jongin in the middle of his king size bed, admiring the way his body rocks atop the midnight blue comforter and beads of sweat form along his brow. Like this, spread out for Joonmyun to take, Jongin is vulnerable and Joonmyun could take what he wants, could sink his aching teeth into Jongin’s throat and drink all he is before feeding it back to him. And Jongin would finally be his for eternity, but at what Joonmyun deems too high a cost. When he turns Jongin, it will be because Jongin wants it.
And Joonmyun clings to the belief that one day Jongin will want it.
Jongin urges Joonmyun to move faster, thrust deeper with every push in. Joonmyun bends over Jongin enough to feel every exhale across his face, hear every whimper of pleasure that dies in Jongin’s throat. There’s beauty in the way Jongin bends around him, trying to touch as much of Joonmyun as he can.
Joonmyun slips his hand between their bodies, running his palm down Jongin’s cock. It throbs in his hold and Joonmyun fucks into Jongin with sharp snaps of his hips that will leave bruises on the insides of his thighs for days. Jongin moans loud, panting through his mouth and Joonmyun pumps his cock until Jongin goes rigid, warm ropes of white streaking down Joonmyun’s fingers and onto Jongin’s stomach.
Joonmyun can’t come - something he lost the ability to do when he was turned - but his body still mimics the sensation and he grinds his cock through the pulsing of Jongin’s climax until he reaches his own.
Jongin hooks his arms around Joonmyun’s neck and keeps his legs around his waist as his breathing slows to a more normal level. Joonmyun revels in it, leaves soft kisses over Jongin’s neck and jaw until Jongin pushes him away with a laugh because he’s ticklish.
Joonmyun hears Jongin’s phone vibrating before Jongin does and the moment is ruined. Jongin extricates himself from Joonmyun’s arms and digs in his pants pocket to find it before answering.
“There’s been an altercation with Baekhyun at the Red Inn,” Joonmyun hears Chanyeol say, picking up on the slight tremor of fear in the new recruit’s voice.
“Alright, I’ll be right there.” Jongin ends the call and looks over at Joonmyun with an apologetic smile. “Duty calls.”
“I suppose it does.”
Jongin crawls over and cups Joonmyun’s face before he kisses him. “Unless you want to start a war over a bloodwhore. . . ?”
Joonmyun sits up, pulling Jongin into his lap for a better kiss. “Come back when it’s done?”
“It’s nearly sunrise. You’ll be asleep and I have a job to do.”
“Part of your job is to watch over me,” Joonmyun teases. “Let Chanyeol take over for a day.”
“Now you trust him?” Jongin asks with a laugh.
“Hardly, but I trust you and if you think he’s up to it, I’ll believe you.”
Jongin sighs, knocking his forehead on Joonmyun’s. “Alright, but just this once. And only because dealing with Baekhyun always leaves me exhausted.”
Joonmyun steals another kiss before Jongin slips away to redress. He still hasn’t gotten everything he wants, but he’s a step closer in the right direction and that’s enough for now. He’ll wait as long as he has to for Jongin to be ready. Until then, however, he’s going to stay up and wait for Jongin to come back to him.
Title: Taking Risks
Pairing: Tao/Kris
Rating: PG13
Length: 1900w
Warning: a/b/o
Summary: Despite Zitao's reputation, Yifan asks him out anyway.
Yifan feels about six centimeters tall, his self preservation instincts kicking in now that he’s under the scrutiny of an entire table of students. He fights to keep his shoulders square and demeanor casual even if his pride is screaming at him that it wants desperately to stay intact.
But this is a battle of Yifan’s own choosing and he will not back down. In front of him, staring at Yifan as if he’s mildly interesting in an offhand way, is none other than Huang Zitao. He’s one of the most sought after omegas on campus and he’s earned a reputation for turning down every alpha who’s dared approach him. Yifan, despite this knowledge, refused to let it deter him. And now he’s thinking he might have overestimated his odds.
Yifan feels like a piece of meat laid out on a slab, being inspected and sized up to see if he’s worthy. There are several alphas at the table with Zitao and Yifan can smell them all over Zitao, can scent the way they’ve gotten defensive over the omega they’ve taken under their protective wing. And Yifan can’t blame them.
It seems an eternity before Zitao speaks and by then, Yifan’s decided his chances are nil and he’ll accept his fate with his head held high.
“You can pick me up outside my dorm tomorrow at six,” Zitao answers before turning back to his friends.
Yifan stands in shock for another few moments before leaving, a giant smile breaking out on his face. Zitao said yes!
Yifan is moping. Zitao said yes. He’s been pacing through his living room for half an hour, hands in his hair and stomach a twisted wreck of nerves and what’s leftover from his lunch.
“Isn’t this what you wanted?” Lu Han asks from the couch. They’ve been rooming together since freshman year and got along well enough - alphas and betas usually do - to get a place off campus as soon as they could. (The college encourages alphas to live off campus so it doesn’t have to deal with territory issues.)
“Of course it is,” Yifan snaps and Lu Han sticks out his leg on Yifan’s next circuit, tripping the alpha. Yifan lands half on the floor, long limbs spanning the carpet and part of the milk crates they ziptied into a makeshift coffee table.
“I fail to see the problem,” Lu Han answers, waving a hand in the air. “Take him to dinner, woo him out of those tight leather pants and you and your dick can live happily ever after.”
Yifan pulls himself up just enough to sit with his back against the couch and kicks his legs out. “But what if he doesn’t want me or my dick?”
Lu Han snorts. “I’m sorry? Is this Yifan the high and mighty alpha or Yifan the meek little omega I’m talking to because I can’t tell anymore. You’ve never had performance issues before.”
“Zitao is different.”
Yifan can feel the burn of Lu Han’s eyes on the side of his face. “You mean Zitao has standards. I’m surprised he said yes at all.”
“Not helping,” Yifan grunts, dropping his head back to rest on a cushion.
Lu Han leans over and pets through Yifan’s now tangled hair, picking through the blond strands. “Just be yourself.” Lu Han grins. “And I’ll stay elsewhere tonight.”
Yifan sinks lower and sighs. He’s doomed.
Yifan is well and truly fucked when he sees Zitao walking down to meet him, his thighs wrapped in sinfully tight leather and his v-neck cut low enough to tease Yifan with a glimpse of his nipples when he glances down.
“I didn’t keep you waiting, did I?” Zitao asks innocently, although they both know that he did. It’s half an hour past when he said Yifan should meet him and Yifan had almost given up.
Yifan knows that Zitao is seen as stuck-up, that people either slap him in the conquest category or decide he isn’t worth the trouble. He’s heard plenty from the guys in the locker room, especially when one of them is turned down by the picky omega. “He parades his ass around like it’s made of fucking gold. What that bitch needs is a good dicking to fuck the arrogance out of him.”
But Yifan has also seen Zitao tucked away in one of the study nooks in the library, furiously wiping away tears of frustration as he stays up late in the night. He’s seen the way his face softens and lights up when Zitao sees small children and animals. It’s not fair to judge someone solely on the front they put up to protect themselves.
“Only a little,” Yifan answers and he gets a hint of a smile in return.
Yifan takes Zitao to a nice restaurant and watches as Zitao proceeds to order the most expensive thing on the menu and push it away after three bites. Zitao steals bits of Yifan’s dinner off his plate and gives short, one word answers every time Yifan tries to strike up a conversation. The limits of Yifan’s patience are tested as the omega then drags Yifan several blocks away for ice cream that he then has Yifan pay for.
Yifan drives back to the dorms as Zitao wraps his tongue around the strawberry ice cream that’s melting down the cone and dripping onto the upholstery. His fingers clench around the steering wheel and his temper is only dulled by the arousal that surges forward when he makes the mistake of watching Zitao lap melted ice cream off his fingers.
When Zitao gets out of Yifan’s car, leaving his scent permeated in the seat, Yifan gets a half-hearted wave and the pleasure of watching Zitao’s leather clad ass swaying as he makes his way up the sidewalk. As soon as the omega is out of sight, Yifan slams his head on the steering wheel.
He feels like an absolute idiot.
Yifan drives back to his apartment, going over the entire date - if that’s what he can call it - and trying to pinpoint what went wrong. By the time he’s slipping into his dark living room, leaving his shoes by the door, Yifan realizes he’s been taken for a fool. Zitao was never interested. Zitao used him to get a meal and strung him along like a toy.
Yifan snarls, unbuttoning his shirt and flopping on his couch, leaving the lights off so he can wallow in his utter stupidity. He’d been taken by an omega. And not just any omega, but Huang fucking Zitao. To think he’d actually thought he’d had a chance. Maybe Zitao really is what everyone says.
There’s a sinking feeling in Yifan’s stomach at the thought that he’d misjudged Zitao so much. He’d been so sure that Zitao was more than the front he put on, but when granted the chance to show it, Zitao had been more of the same.
Yifan wishes Lu Han hadn’t left for the night. He could use a friendly shoulder to gnaw on.
It’s late. Yifan startles when the doorbell goes off and he contemplates not answering. He has a nice warm spot on the couch cushion already and he’s loathe to give it up. The bell rings again and Yifan reasons that maybe it’s just Lu Han and he’s managed to forget his keys. The beta is no good when it comes to remembering the important things.
When Yifan opens the door, he expects Lu Han to shove his way inside ungratefully. Instead, Yifan sees Zitao standing in the hall, still looking as fucking perfect as he did on their date and Yifan kinda hates him for it. After what Zitao put him through tonight, the least Zitao could do was look bad.
“So here’s the thing,” Zitao begins, one hand ruffling through his hair and the other resting on his cocked hip, “I’m not really an asshole.”
Yifan raises an eyebrow in interest, crossing his arms over his chest. “Go on.”
Zitao wrinkles his nose and chews on his bottom lip. It leaves the skin moist and pink and even after everything, Yifan has this urge to lean down and take it in his mouth.
“Do we have to do this in the hallway?” Zitao looks both ways and bounces on the heels of his feet nervously.
“Yes.” The very idea of Zitao’s scent inside the place he lives would be torturous and Yifan isn’t a masochist.
Zitao sighs and nods. “Right, you’re pissed. And I completely understand because I was a horrible date. It’s just that I have this . . . defensive stance I go into when I’m around unfamiliar alphas. It’s not that I wasn’t interested, but you’re so hot and I have no dating experience and I got flustered and screwed it all up.”
Hope flares hot and bright in Yifan’s chest and he’s lowering his defenses before common sense can kick in. “You weren’t just screwing with me?”
Zitao’s eyes lock on Yifan’s face and drag down down down slowly before running back up, giving his entire body a contemplative once over. “Not even close, but I’d like to if you’ll let me.” Zitao steps forward and Yifan lets the omega slip into his apartment. “Consider it me making it up to you.”
Yifan nearly leaves the door open in his haste to get his hands on Zitao and he thinks he hears the click of it closing, but he’s too driven by the idea of finally being able to touch. He fits a palm on the back of Zitao’s neck, dragging him in for a kiss. And Zitao tastes even better than he smells and he’s so hot, his skin scorching and breath heated as it hits Yifan’s face between kisses when they part for air.
Zitao’s arms curl around Yifan’s shoulders and they stumble over the floor in the still dark apartment until they meet resistance. The wall gives Yifan the leverage to fit his thigh between Zitao’s legs, keeping him still so he can tug on the swell of his lower lip and let it go just so he can chase it again. Zitao lets out the softest, toe curling moan and Yifan dips his tongue into his mouth to coax out another.
The alpha in Yifan is surging forward, demanding Yifan claim Zitao and it takes all his strength to push it down. He pulls away from Zitao, thumb running over the omega’s cheek. The moonlight spilling through the curtains is enough for him to see how wide Zitao’s pupils are, how flush his cheeks are and Yifan’s pride soars at the sight.
“As much as I’d love to accept your offer, I think we should start with a date. A real one.”
Zitao slumps, his fingers curling around the fabric of Yifan’s shirt to tug the alpha forward. “You really are too good to be true,” he says against Yifan’s mouth before kissing him. “I think I’ll keep you.”
A very smug Yifan walks through the courtyard with Zitao clinging to his arm the next day, positively thrilled at his scent all over the omega that only strengthens when Zitao keeps stopping to push his nose into Yifan’s throat. They’re going on their first official date tonight and, with any luck, many more will follow.
Title: Cotton
Pairing: Sehun/Xiumin
Rating: NC17
Length: 1600w
Warning: mild come-play/snowballing
Summary: pwp fting panties
Sehun’s never really understood the allure of plain, white cotton panties. There’s plenty to be said of lace or silk or the scraps that barely cover anything, but white cotton? That’s like the chocolate flavored water left ignored as everyone else chooses the chocolate milk instead. Even as he stands in front of his bathroom mirror, inspecting the way the panties fit plainly over his jutting hips and curve along his ass, Sehun doesn’t see what the big deal is.
He has to admit that the cotton feels better against his dick and balls - less scratchy - but if the idea is to get fucked, the panties are going to come off anyway and comfort should be an afterthought.
But Minseok asked, pouted, until Sehun took the garment and trudged into their bathroom, slamming the door harder than necessary just in case Minseok didn’t get the message. If Minseok wants him to wear panties, Sehun wants something that will make him look desirable, sexy, and not like a virginal teenager.
“Are you ever going to come out?” Minseok asks from behind the door, jiggling the locked knob.
Sehun sighs, eyeing the way the panties mold around his junk unimpressively one last time before opening the door. Standing in the hall, one hand on his hip and the other falling back to his side, is Minseok.
Minseok in panties.
Minseok in white cotton panties - the same white cotton panties Sehun is wearing.
Sehun thinks he might be drooling. Minseok has always been unfairly attractive, especially to a virile young man like Sehun, and this isn’t helping. What had been plain and boring on Sehun is alluring on Minseok, hugging around his curvy hips and plush backside, the dark dusting of hair low on Minseok’s stomach disappearing behind white where his cock is pushing out.
When Sehun looks upward, he sees the way Minseok is chewing on his lower lip, the skin pink and wet and fucking glistening from the overhead light. Minseok’s wide eyes are focused on Sehun’s dick and, well, that’s all Sehun needs.
Sehun grabs at Minseok, a wrist in one hand and his arm around Minseok’s waist to pull him flush before he dips for a kiss. The cotton definitely feels nice, especially when Minseok rolls his hips into Sehun’s, moaning softly as Sehun parts Minseok’s lips with his tongue.
“You look so hot,” Minseok breathes, fingers balling in Sehun’s hair to bring him down more. They stumble back, teetering off balance until Minseok’s shoulders hit against the wall. Sehun wedges his knee between Minseok’s thighs, pushing up as Minseok grinds down until they’re rutting together desperately. Sehun can feel Minseok’s cock through both pairs of panties and it rubs against his own until he’s hard and aching, still trapped in cotton.
Minseok’s hands run down, nails scratching red lines over Sehun’s chest before resting flat and pushing him backwards. “Not here.” Minseok’s face is pink, his dark hair a mess and Sehun admires the wet spot near the top of his panties, wanting to drop to his knees for a taste, but Minseok has other ideas.
They end up in their bedroom, Minseok pushing Sehun down onto his hands and knees. Sehun wiggles his ass and gets a slap on his right cheek for it. It wasn’t hard, but Minseok soothes over it with his palm anyway. And then he kisses the knobs of Sehun’s spine, a trail that leads down until he reaches the top of the panties.
Sehun is expecting freedom from the constriction around his cock, but Minseok only slides the cotton down enough to get to his ass, leaving the rest of him trapped. He whines, rocking back in an attempt get Minseok to free him, but it’s useless. All he gets is another slap, this time on the left side.
Minseok slides slick fingers down Sehun’s crack and Sehun gasps, falling to his elbows so his ass juts out. He tries to spread his legs, but the panties keep them from moving and the elastic cuts into his thighs. A wet finger pushes at his rim, teasing and light until it slips inside him. Sehun groans at the intrusion, head falling to the mattress.
Minseok is always thorough, his fingers always so wet when they work Sehun open two, then three at a time. He adds more lube, Sehun shuddering at the squelch that accompanies each thrust. A wet line trails down toward his balls, soaking into the panties.
Sehun tries to spread his legs again when Minseok’s fingers leave him feeling empty. He hazards a look back, moaning when he catches sight of Minseok’s fist running over his cock, coating it in a thick layer of lube now that his panties have been pushed down just enough to get at it. And Sehun wants it inside him. Now.
“Minseok,” he whines, pushing his ass further into the air. “Baby, please.”
Sehun goes lax when he feels one of Minseok’s hands spreading his cheeks, followed by the pressure of his crown against his hole. It’s slippery when Minseok presses inside him, the tip spreading Sehun open the widest before his body sucks in the rest. It’s a quick slide in and they both moan when Minseok’s hips hit against Sehun’s ass.
He’s so full, so wonderfully full and his cock throbs in its cotton prison, balls aching and the need to come starting to prick at his senses. Sehun rocks forward, relishing that feeling of Minseok’s cock sliding along his walls before he pushes back to fuck himself. He doesn’t want to wait, can’t hold back when Minseok makes him feel so amazing.
Minseok’s hands cup his ass, spreading his cheeks as he takes over. His thrusts are hard and slow and Sehun appreciates the slick glide, the stretch that still throbs around his rim when Minseok almost pulls out. The pleasure spreads through him like poison in his veins, building stronger with every thrust and eating away at his sanity.
Sehun moans into their blanket, nearly sobbing when he tries to spread his thighs and the panties keep him from being able to. He wants to sink to the bed, stretch himself wide for Minseok, but the elastic band has him trapped.
Minseok goes faster, leaning over Sehun for leverage as the sound of skin slapping nearly drowns out Sehun’s raspy moans. Sehun reaches back, digs his fingers into Minseok’s thighs to pull him in more. Minseok fucks him even faster, moaning praises against the skin of Sehun’s back. You feel amazing around me. I could fuck you all night. And finally, next time I want you to fuck me like this.
Sehun nearly comes from the thought alone, his cock throbbing painfully and he tries to brace his weight, grind his hips back for just a little more. The grip Minseok has on Sehun’s side loosens, his palm running hot over Sehun’s stomach and down to the edge of his panties. Minseok doesn’t falter even when he moves the cotton away just enough for Sehun’s cock to spring free.
All it takes is the feather-light touch of Minseok’s fingers running along the underside of his cock for Sehun to come. He nearly blacks out, every muscle in his body going rigid, his ass clamping down around Minseok’s cock and the shock of it forcing his eyes to roll back in his head.
Minseok strokes Sehun off until he can’t come anymore, his thighs trembling and aching and arms about to give out. Everything is too sensitive and Sehun pushes at Minseok so he pulls out. Sehun chokes out a noise at the sudden emptiness.
Despite how heavy his limbs feel, how sore his thighs are from the panties, Sehun turns and takes Minseok cock in his hands. He fists the base, stroking him off with short jerks while twisting around the crown with his other hand. Sehun looks up at Minseok, pleased at the pink in his cheeks and the affectionate, lustful gaze directed at him.
Sehun goes faster, thumbing over the slit of Minseok’s cock. Minseok nearly falls, reaching out to rest a hand on Sehun’s shoulder to steady himself. With a knowing smirk, Sehun lowers his face and opens his mouth, his tongue hanging just under the tip of his cock.
Minseok loses it, moaning out Sehun’s name as ropes of come land on Sehun’s face and tongue. He catches as much of it as he can, both hands working to milk every drop. It’s bitter and thick, sliding down his throat with each swallow. Minseok swipes his thumb through a line on Sehun’s cheek and Sehun leans forward to suck it into his mouth, tonguing all the way around to clean off the come before it falls away.
Minseok slips down onto the bed, wiggling out of the panties and leaving them on the floor. Then he pushes at Sehun who is still busy trying to clean his face so he can slide his panties off too. There are deep red lines in Sehun’s thighs and he’s a filthy mess, but Minseok crawls over him for a kiss anyway.
“I meant it,” Minseok says as he licks at a missed spot of come on Sehun’s chin and then pushes it into Sehun’s mouth. “I want you to fuck me just like that.”
Sehun grins, lifting his legs to wrap them around Minseok’s waist. “Sounds perfect.”
Perfect.
Title: Territory Dispute
Pairing: Luhan/Chen
Rating: NC17
Length: 950w
Warning: a/b/o
Summary: Lu Han starts a war with his roommate.
The kitchen smells like a combination of Minseok, Jongin and sweat. Lu Han’s nose wrinkles at the scent and he backs out of the room for fresh air. He only pauses long enough to add air freshener to the grocery list before heading to the living room and making the mistake of sitting on the couch.
The couch smells like Minseok, Jongin, sweat and come. Lu Han slides off with a shudder and pulls out his phone to call Jongdae. He’s so tired of their apartment reeking of alpha. As a beta, Lu Han’s never had that underlying urge to mark his territory, but he’s starting to.
“I’m - so - fucking - tired - of - smelling - them - everywhere,” Lu Han complains even if his companion isn’t listening.
Jongdae is a little occupied with Lu Han’s dick up his ass, fucking him over the smooth surface of Lu Han and Minseok’s kitchen table. He doesn’t care about Lu Han’s vendetta to get Minseok and his omega Jongin to quit leaving their stink everywhere, but if this is Lu Han’s solution, Jongdae is a willing participant. His jaw falls slack, a scream building in his throat that accompanies the heated pleasure racing up from his ass.
Lu Han’s always encouraged Jongdae to be vocal, so he is. His moans are loud, echoing off the cabinets and counters, reverberating and unceasing. It’s the type of noise that Lu Han would find annoying in porn, but Jongdae’s voice is fucking perfect. Lu Han thrusts faster, hands on the backs of Jongdae’s knees to push them up to his boyfriend’s chest.
Jongdae keens, head back and neck strained as he belts out these moans that are liable to earn them a noise complaint from the neighbors. Lu Han may not be an alpha, might not be able to knot him, but he’s still the best fuck Jongdae’s ever had. He’s also the most enthusiastic.
Jongdae’s entire body is shunted over the table and his voice begins to crack from the relentless, brutal way Lu Han is fucking him open. He’s almost there, so close he can taste it and his breath catches, balls drawing tight as his orgasm threatens to wash over him.
Lu Han stops. “Not yet baby.”
It takes Jongdae a moment to realize that Lu Han really, actually stopped and he sits up, slapping the side of Lu Han’s arm hard. “What the fuck?”
Lu Han doesn’t seem bothered. He gives Jongdae a smile and leans forward enough to leave a chaste kiss on Jongdae’s lips. “You’re going to come on the couch.”
“What?”Jongdae chokes out even as Lu Han is plucking him off the table. They haven’t even made it to the couch before Jongdae smells it and he wiggles in Lu Han’s hold, hissing as the cock in his ass rubs just right. “Don’t you dare set me down in come.”
Lu Han has Jongdae with his knees on the edge of the cushion and hands on the back of the couch, his ass presented in the air. Jongdae gives it a good jiggle, moaning when Lu Han slides back inside him with a deep groan of his own. Without the hard surface of the table wreaking havoc on Jongdae’s back, he can appreciate Lu Han’s steady yet quick pace a lot more.
Jongdae’s head hangs down, fingers gripping tight to the upholstery as Lu Han surges forward and back, his hands cradled around Jongdae’s narrow hips. There will be bruises scattered all over his body come tomorrow, but it will be worth it. The release that eluded him before crawls through Jongdae once more and he swears that if Lu Han stops, he’s going to vivisect his balls.
He voices the thought aloud and Lu Han lets out a huff of laughter that cuts off when Jongdae squeezes purposely around his cock. Jongdae loves how it spurs Lu Han into fucking him faster, harder, the shock of each thrust jolting through Jongdae’s nearly spent body. He’s wound so damn tight, balancing on the tip of a needle with nothing to keep him from teetering off the edge.
Jongdae inhales and holds it, lungs burning and head spinning as his cock throbs, nearly there. When he comes apart, it’s with a belting moan that’s loud and long, every pulse of his climax tearing through his nerves. His hand slips, weight landing on his elbow in a narrow miss. There’s a puddle of his come on the couch cushion, another rope following when Lu han thrusts into him one last time.
Jongdae shudders as Lu Han fills him, barely able to keep himself up as his muscles seize. His throat feels raw and his lips are chapped, but the after sex buzz has Jongdae grinning even as Lu Han pulls out, catching him around the waist with an arm so Jongdae doesn’t fall. “I’ve got you,” Lu Han whispers against Jongdae’s sweaty neck and Jongdae makes a small noise of appreciation. “Let’s go take a bath.”
Jongdae can’t say no to that. Lu Han gives the best sponge baths.
Lu Han wanders out of his bedroom in the morning, scratching through his bedhead when he stops short at the kitchen door. He should have seen this coming.
Minseok has Jongin bent over their stove, a hand twisted in dark strands of hair to keep Jongin’s face to the metal surface as he fucks into him from behind. Lu Han would be impressed by the flexing of Minseok’s thighs, the pretty way the sweat gleams off his skin, but Minseok is erasing the scent Lu Han and Jongdae left last night.
His hands ball into fists at his sides and he stomps his foot like a spoiled brat. THIS IS WAR!
Title: It's All In The Timing
Pairing: Chanyeol/Xiumin
Rating: R
Length: 1250w
Warning: a/b/o, chanyeol's teeth
Summary: Chanyeol picks the most inopportune time to decide he wants Minseok to be his alpha.
Chanyeol always loses a little bit of himself on stage. When he’s not underneath the bright lights, sweating through several layers of clothing and makeup, it’s easy to put things in perspective. He knew going into this that it would be difficult being in a mixed group. SM had wanted to make a name for themselves and they did by shocking everyone when they created a group filled with not only alphas and betas, but omegas as well. It’s usual for alphas and betas to be clustered together, but adding omegas into the equation is volatile.
But they’ve been doing this for three years now. Naturally, the omegas in the group stick together, living in the same small room because it’s always preferable to sleep in a pile - safety in numbers. And even if he’s large, Chanyeol loves draping himself over Jongin just to hear Jongin’s huffs of annoyance as he shoves his knee in Chanyeol’s back to roll him off in the middle of the night.
They are all on a strict regime to keep their natural tendencies to a minimum, and yet sometimes it slips. Chanyeol will occasionally find himself orbiting around an alpha - usually Minseok - without meaning to and it takes a knowing glance from one of the other omegas to pull him out of it. It’s not that they aren’t all friends, but it’s just a lot less complicated to stay away lest something happen.
(Not that Chanyeol hasn’t thought about something happening, but the rewards never seem to outweigh the risks when there’s always a camera shoved somewhere in his personal space.)
With his body overheated and the sweat itching over his skin, Chanyeol feels restless on stage. His long limbs follow well rehearsed choreography, some of it less than perfect because he’s trying not to look at the person dancing in front of him to keep time.
Chanyeol has been nursing a twinge of affection for Minseok for so long now that he’s beginning to worry and it’s been distracting him when he least expects it. For instance, right now Chanyeol hazards a look up to see Minseok thrusting his hips, his hand over the front of his pants and he completely zones out.
What would it feel like to have Minseok between his legs, thrusting into him like that? He envisions Minseok’s small, powerful hands bending Chanyeol how he wants, leaving bruises and scratches that will show the world that he’s taken.
There’s a knot in Chanyeol’s throat that he can’t swallow down and his eyes refuse to leave the dancing figure as Minseok continues the routine. Beside him, Jongin stomps hard on Chanyeol’s foot, but the pain is nothing compared to the scent of Minseok blasting right into Chanyeol’s nose. He whimpers - he audibly whimpers - and takes a step forward.
His body is on autopilot, instincts threading through his veins and controlling his actions. Omegas are naturally submissive, but if there’s something, or someone, they want, all bets are off. Chanyeol proves this when he wraps a large hand around Minseok’s arm, startling the alpha when he spins him around. Before anyone can stop him, Chanyeol bends to bury his nose in Minseok’s neck. With a low moan, he breathes in the heady, addicting scent and his knees go weak.
A pair of sturdy arms wrap around Chanyeol’s waist, almost as if giving him permission, so Chanyeol does. He bites. He bites into the soft skin of Minseok’s neck on stage in front of a stadium of thousands of fans and relishes the dull roar in his ears, the taste of alpha in his teeth even as the rest of his group are now trying to pull the pair apart.
Chanyeol’s stomach drops to the floor and heat sears burning paths through his veins at the primal growl that slips through Minseok’s lips when Chanyeol is ripped from his arms. The background track to their newest single is blaring through the speakers, but no one is bothering to sing, performance forgotten as Minseok fights against two other alphas to get to Chanyeol who is now being dragged off stage.
The staff toss Chanyeol into a dark room, the lock clicking before Chanyeol can get out. His fist slams against wood, rattling the door in its frame, but it doesn’t break. The blood is rushing in his ears, the need to be with Minseok painful now that they’re separated. He wants Minseok to mark him too, needs his chosen alpha to sink his teeth into the back of his neck and hold fast as he fucks him.
A trickle of wetness slides down the insides of Chanyeol’s thighs at the thought of Minseok knotting him and he doubles his efforts to bust his way through the door. It’s only moments later when the door comes open from the other side, nearly ripped off its hinges by a red faced, pissed off Minseok. Chanyeol can still see the imprint of his teeth on Minseok’s neck.
He’s herded backwards as the door shuts again, the light flickering on overhead. Chanyeol is panting, eyes going blurry and head spinning from how fucking amazing Minseok smells. He falls to his knees, head tilted to bare his neck before Minseok even gets to him.
“Fuck Chanyeol,” Minseok growls, his fingers stroking through Chanyeol’s hair softly until he gets a good handful and pulls. “You couldn’t wait until we got back to the dorms?” he demands.
Minseok drags Chanyeol to his feet and even if Chanyeol is looking down at the alpha, they both know Minseok is in charge. Their first kiss is bruising, Chanyeol whimpering as Minseok parts his lips and surges forward.
“I always knew you’d taste amazing,” Minseok pants against Chanyeol’s mouth before tasting him again, tongue dipping into Chanyeol’s mouth.
Chanyeol’s mind shuts down, nothing left save for Minseok Minseok Minseok and he regrets not doing this sooner. Minseok’s always been right there and Chanyeol finally has his hands on him, fingers gripped tight enough to leave a ring of bruises on Minseok’s arms.
All too soon, Minseok pushes him away. Chanyeol stumbles from the force, blinking away the haziness in his vision. Minseok looks flush, his hair a mess and lips slick and pink and Chanyeol can smell his arousal. “I’m not fucking you here,” Minseok explains, running his hands through his hair now.
Disappointment has Chanyeol’s insides twisting and he backs away from Minseok, trying to calm himself. Minseok takes a step forward and Chanyeol nearly falls, bracing himself on the wall to keep from sliding down.
There’s a tentative knock on the door and Chanyeol jumps.
“Van’s ready,” comes Lu Han’s voice and it’s Minseok who answers, Minseok who strides over and takes Chanyeol by the arm to drag him out. They pass by staff and managers on their way out the back and Chanyeol tries to ignore their burning stares.
“Just wait,” Minseok whispers just loud enough for only Chanyeol to hear. “I’m going to have you hanging off my knot for hours, going to fuck you so hard everyone in the building hears you scream my name.”
Minseok pushes Chanyeol into the van and shuts the door, eyeing him up and down like Chanyeol is a decadent meal. “But only after I get my teeth in those thighs of yours.”
Chanyeol feels sorry for the person who has to clean the van because he’s fairly sure he’s just left a puddle in the seat.