summary: you have never, in your entire life, thought that an alpha would be interested in you. so when choi seungcheol, your quiet but confident alpha coworker, starts courting you, you donât know what to do with his affections.
word count: 6.4k
warnings: omegaverse au, a/b/o dynamics, alpha!seungcheol, omega!reader, touch starvation, typical omegaverse vernacular, mentions of omega misogyny and stereotypes, lots of descriptions of physical touch, emotional neglect, mild angst, smut, nsfw, unprotected sex, heats, knotting, scenting, all that omegaverse jazz, im just down bad for caring, loving alpha cheol sue me ig
masterlist
Growing up, you were taught to believe that tradition is the heart and soul of a strong family unit.
Your father was an Alpha in every sense of the word. Strong, stoic, slightly aloof. He provided for the family, working long hours to put food on the table. You can count on one hand the amount of times he has even looked at you, let alone interacted with you in any way. Your mother stayed at home, but she didnât have a lot of free time either. Between caring for five children and household work, you were left to fend for yourself more often than not. You were the second eldest of your siblings.
Whether fortunately or unfortunately, you were the only one who presented as an omega. All your brothers and sisters were Alphas, which means the hammer really came down on you. Your mother made sure you knew how omegas were supposed to behave. Docile, submissive, made to cater to Alphas. It didnât matter if the world was moving away from these stereotypes. In your household, your fatherâs word was law, and that meant you had to fall in line.
You cut them off the second you turned eighteen, not that they cared. The last words your mother ever said to you were that no Alpha would put up with your demands, and you would end up alone with no mate, no pups, no family.
Whatever. You donât need a family. You would be fine on your own.
That was nearly a decade ago. You are a grown woman now, with a stable job, a cozy house, and good friends. Yes, after struggling through college with no one by your side, struggling to unravel how your familyâs beliefs had screwed with your head, you even managed to make friends. Your job is a corporate, boring desk job, but the people there are very nice and accommodating. On your first day there, you met Boo Seungkwan, a fellow omega, who welcomed you as one of his own, metaphorically taking you under his wing.
Seungkwan is unlike any omega you have ever met in your life. He is loud, he takes up space, he gets annoyed with his Alpha friends, snaps at them, even calls them names sometimes. It had shocked you when you first saw him interact with Mingyu, who sat one desk over from you. And it shocked you even more when Mingyu never once shut Seungkwan down, instead engaging in petty banter with just as much zeal. You cannot imagine your father or your brothers tolerating Seungkwanâs tone, but Mingyu took it in stride.
They both fascinated you. And you fascinated them.
Seungkwan is a naturally affectionate person. When he tried to hug you for the first time, every hair on your body stood up, every muscle turning rigid with tension. You cannot explain how it felt, like someone was slashing at your inner omega with knives, and unintentionally, you snarled from deep within your subconscious. Seungkwan nearly flew off you, eyes wide, mouth dropped open. He held his hands up to placate you as you tried to regulate your breaths.
He never touched you again.
You can list off in your head the number of times someone has touched you. Your father, never. When you started walking properly as a toddler was the last time it was your mother. You had shaken hands with teachers at graduation, both high school and college. You had accidentally bumped into people on the subway. The doctor touched you when you went in for checkups, and that was hell too, making your heart pound painfully and your skin feel like it was on fire. You donât know why youâre like that. You just are. Touching hurts. So you avoid it.
Choi Seungcheol knows exactly what it is.
He is interested in you from the second he first sees you walk into the office. You donât work in the same team. He is in finance, you are in marketing, but he sees you often because you are on good terms with Seungkwan, and Seungkwan is friends with literally everyone. He likes watching you. You are quiet, calm but witty. You can keep up with someone as hyperactive as Seungkwan quite easily, and you like ribbing on Mingyu sometimes too, who you also seem to be close with. Seungcheol wonders if there is something going on there, but then he sees Seungkwan hug you, your visceral reaction to it, and it all clicks into place.
Youâre a touch starved omega.
He has seen it once before when he was a teenager. It isnât common, and often only happens with severe neglect. It makes no sense to him. Youâre so beautiful, and the handful of times Seungcheol has been in the same vicinity as you, he has caught a whiff of your scent. Sweet like honey and flower petals. He cannot imagine that another Alpha has never been interested in you, or tried to court you. His heart aches at the thought of you being so alone for so long, and the Alpha in him wants to comfort you.
But he has to take this slow.
It is a random Thursday evening when Choi Seungcheol approaches you for the first time. You are standing outside the office building, fiddling with your phone, when a very distinctly alpha smell hits your nose. You turn your head to see him there, a mere few feet from you. He offers you a tiny smile.
âHi.â
âHi.â You recognise him. âSeungcheol?â
âThatâs me.â
Youâve seen him around the office. Youâre not sure what department, but heâs in the break room sometimes when you and Seungkwan are in there. His presence isnât loud or overwhelming like alphas often are, but thereâs a very distinct, confident air about him. He carries himself with the self assured stance of a man who is comfortable in his skin. You like people who know what they want out of life, like Seungkwan, like Seungcheol. But you never had any reason to speak to him before.
âAre you waiting for someone?â He asks.
You shake your head, holding up your phone. âJust looking for a cab. My carâs in the shop, so Iâve been commuting like this.â
He nods. âI can give you a ride home, if thatâs okay?â
You hesitate a bit. You donât want to impose on him, even though he is the one who offered. But you look down at the app again, at how youâve been looking for something not crazy expensive for the last ten minutes. You weigh your options as he waits patiently for your answer, before reluctantly nodding yes.
Seungcheolâs car smells like him, and itâs the first time his scent hits your nose strongly enough for you to decipher the notes. Cedarwood and leather. Itâs heavy, but not potent, grounded in earthly tones. Involuntarily, you feel yourself relax. That doesnât happen often when youâre among alphas. The only other one you feel remotely okay with is Mingyu.
Seungcheol makes small talk with you as he drives. None of the questions are too invasive; why your car is in the shop, how your current project is going, what are your usual plans for after work. You talk about Seungkwan, the common link between you two, and Seungcheol praises Seungkwanâs people skills, his ability to hold attention during work meetings. You conclude that you like listening to him speak. His voice is deep, kind of brassy without being grating to the ear. Itâs soft too, despite being so manly, and you wonder again how an alpha can have such a strong presence while simultaneously being so accommodating.
âThank you.â You smile at him genuinely, when he stops before your apartment complex. He nods and smiles back, and your breath catches at the little dimple that dents his cheek. Every little thing adds to his allure. You can feel the omega in you stir, and you leave the car before you can dwell on what that means.
You havenât had much luck with romance in the past. You presented later than most people your age, and by the time you came to terms with your upbringing, trying to break away from it, you were well into college. You know alphas looked at you, of course. They were alphas. Their biology meant that they would sniff out an omega. But it was never about you, specifically. Your aversion to touch worries you sometimes when it comes to finding a mate, but you are also averse to the very idea of a mate, especially after what your mother had always said. You have grown resentful of the idea that an alpha could be anything like the ones you grew up with. So you banish any thought of that from your mind.
Seungcheol starts showing up more and more in your life after that.
When he greets you in the break room and Seungkwan realizes you know each other, he insists that you all sit together, and thatâs how you end up having lunch with him every day. He always offers a taste of his food, which you politely decline, insisting he should eat. A few days of this and he starts bringing a smaller box with him, saying you can eat from it without worrying about his portions. It catches you off guard, that he sets food aside for you, but something inside you preens at the thought, and your heart beats faster when you accept the food.
Seungcheol drives you home a few more times as well, saying he lives in the same direction anyway, and you can ride with him until your car is back from being fixed. You wrack your brain on how to repay all his kindness, and you are so caught up in it that Seungkwan has to sit you down and spell it out for you.
âHeâs courting you, dumbass.â His eyes bore into you, and you blink hard a few times, trying to process his words.
âNo heâs not.â You scowl. âHeâs just being kind.â
âHeâs cooking extra food and packing it every day for an unmated omega. He is offering to drive home an unmated omega every day.â Seungkwan rolls his eyes.
You bite your lip anxiously, because putting it like that makes it so much more obvious. Is Seungcheol courting you? You have never been courted before. No wonder you didnât notice.
You fret over it for a few days. And it is on one of your rides home with him that Seungcheol finally speaks up.
âIt might not be my place to say, but you seem a little worried.â His voice is low, cautious. âIs something bothering you?â
You have been looking for an opening to bring it up with him anyway, so you try not to think about how Seungcheol guessed that youâre worried and instead ask him whatâs been on your mind.
âSeungkwan seems to believe that you areâŚ. courting me.â You try to keep your voice level as you say it, fidgeting on your seat. When he doesnât say anything for a few seconds, you feel your face burn hot.
âIâm sorry, Iâm being ridiculous.â You shake your head, trying to wave off the annoyance that you now feel at your omega friend. Curse him and his crazy, outlandish suggestions.
âWhy would it be ridiculous?â He says finally, eyes still on the road.
âWhat?â
âThe thought of someone courting you shouldnât be ridiculous.â
Your face is still burning hot. You donât know what to say to him, how to even begin unraveling why you think this way. Even Seungkwan hasnât had your trauma dumped on him yet.
Seungcheolâs car slows down in front of your building. He puts it into park and reaches the backseat for his satchel. From it, he removes a black, velvet box. He pulls it open, and you have to strangle a gasp in your mouth as you eye the glittering silver chain of the bracelet. It has a single charm on it, cherries, also silver and gleaming in the light.
âI wanted to gift this to you from the start.â He confesses. âBut I figured it would be better to start smaller. Like with food.â
Your heart is beating fast, your eyes trained on the bracelet as he removes it from the box. You donât dare look up at him. Youâre scared. He doesnât push for you to speak. Silence fills the small space between you two.
âSeungcheol, I-â You hesitate. âI have issues.â
He chuckles a bit, but not unkindly. âWe will take this as slow as you want. You call the shots. Iâm just asking for a chance to be the one to love you the way I think you deserve.â
You call the shots.
You look at him then, to find that his eyes are already on you. Dark and warm like the earth. It grounds you, and you can feel your shoulders loosen just a bit.
His fingers brush your skin just slightly as he clasps the bracelet on your wrist. Your omega stirs, restless, on guard. You donât get a wink of sleep that night.
âŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚ.
Seungkwan is fawning all over your courting gift the next day, nearly beside himself. Heâs flushed so red you are afraid he will explode. Mingyu is grinning ear to ear too, swaying in his chair.
âCouldnât have been anyone better.â He claims. âSeungcheolâs alpha game is on a whole other level. If anyone can wow you, itâs him.â
You donât have time to question his words, because Seungkwan starts shedding actual tears, and you have to try and console him without any physical contact. That doesnât work, of course, so Mingyu steps in. It becomes a whole thing, and before you know it, the words slip from your mind.
Seungcheol comes to your desk and asks you to have lunch with him from then onwards. Every day, you sit with him, without Seungkwan now, and he plops a warm, packed lunch in front of you. When you try to protest, he waves it away in dismissal. The omega in you loves it, you realise, being fed like this. Youâre sure thereâs something deep rooted in your primal nature that approves of being brought food, especially by an alpha that has made it clear he is interested in you.
You are curious about Seungcheol, and he indulges you in every conversation. You learn that he is the youngest of many brothers, all alphas. Heâs an athletic guy. He likes to play sports and travel. He has a small, but very loyal circle of friends. You also learn that he has liked you for a long time. It flatters you, even if you find that thought a bit unbelievable. Seungcheol asks that you tell him about yourself as well, your hobbies, your interests, and what you want for your future. He is an attentive listener, and he often lets you drone on and on without feeling any need to edit you. Your heart flutters at how his eyes soften when he looks at you. How he always maintains a distance. He never touches you, not even once. Every word of his feels like balm on your skin.
He asks you on your first date after courting you for a good two months. And he pulls out all the stops for it. Itâs romantic, but not overly so that it would freak you out. You both talk yourselves hoarse about any and every topic under the sun, and by the time he walks you to your door, your entire body is buzzing with a warm, comfortable energy.
âYouâre so different, Seungcheol.â You mumble as you lean against the doorframe. He hums inquisitively as he watches you.
âHow so?â
âYou never ask anything of me.â You watch him. âI donât understand it.â
Seungcheol sighs, staring off into space for a brief moment.
âI think people get it so wrong.â His voice is so quiet that you almost have to strain to catch it. âAlphas are supposed to be this domineering, uncontrollable, all powerful authority. But thatâs just not true. Itâs the omegas who are the heart of it. Omegas who hold everything up. An alpha is justâŚ. there to love and protect.â
He stares at his feet then, kicking them slightly.
âI know you struggle withâŚ. touch.â He continues. âI also know thatâs not your fault. Youâve been let down so many times that your omega just canât trust again. I get it.â
When he looks up, his smile is soft, whimsical almost. The dim light of the lobby frames him, makes his brown hair look lighter. âI hope that you can trust me. Not immediately. Not with all of you. But maybe just a little bit.â
When your vision gets misty, you try to blink away the tears, but that only makes them fall past your eyeline. Seungcheol reaches up, ever so slowly, to brush one away with the pad of his thumb. When his skin meets yours, it tingles. Your fingers tremble. You try not to shudder. You close your eyes, and you let his barely there touch linger. He doesnât pull away. Neither do you.
He holds your hand when he drives.
It starts with just linking his pinky with yours. But you try to take the brave step of allowing more, until your fingers are intertwining with his large, warm ones. His hand in yours feels like an anchor preventing you from floating away. Your omega preens, licks over old wounds, and you try not to think about how good the simple act of holding hands feels. You feel like a teenager, feeling so giddy over just holding hands, but when you see Seungcheol try to tamp down a smile, you let yourself feel this happiness.
He likes placing his hand on your lower back when you walk with him, a silent sign of him being there, someone you can rely on. The first time he scents you, itâs a very cautious brush of his wrist against yours. It makes something uncomfortable zip through your skin, and he doesnât try it again. But then you miss it, the feeling of him making you just a little bit his, and you shyly brush your wrist over his by yourself during one movie night. He lets you, doesnât rush, doesnât stop you. He lets you run your wrist over his until you are satisfied that a part of you smells like him and a part of him smells like you.
Your heat hits the week after that.
Itâs more painful this time, since your omega recognizes a specific alpha, knows that there is a potential partner out there who can give you a knot. You cry through it for one night and one day, but then you break, your mind muddled, and you call Seungcheol between broken sobs. His voice only makes you cry more as he tries to placate you over the phone. He knows your omega is being unreasonable. Thereâs a good chance that you wonât be able to handle it anyway. When he hangs up, you almost fall apart.
You hear knocking on your door an hour later, and your heat-addled brain is convinced that itâs Seungcheol. When you see a random stranger there, an omega at that, your face crumples.
âI come bearing gifts.â The man says with a grin, holding up a large canvas bag. Its familiar scent hits you hard, cedarwood and leather, and you snatch the bag from him. When you open it, you find heaps and heaps of Seungcheolâs clothing. Shirts, sweaters, flannels, and by the smell of them, it is anything he has worn in the last few days. You preen at the scent, shoving your nose into the cloth. It calms you down, you can feel your cramps give way for the first time in hours, and you look up gratefully at the stranger who saved you at a time like this.
His name is Jeonghan, and you remember him from Seungcheolâs stories. You recognise him too, from pictures youâve seen, now that you arenât delirious with pain. Jeonghan helps you get back in bed and helps arrange all of Seungcheolâs clothes in your nest. He cooks while you rest, making a good few portions of nutritious, easily heated up stew that will last you for the rest of your heat. He tells you how worried Seungcheol is, how badly he wishes he could be there, and that he hopes his scent can hold you over enough to get you through this. He ends up being right, because after three more slightly less painful nights, your heat finally breaks.
Youâre embarrassed when you see Seungcheol next, but he doesnât seem to mind at all. He assures you that itâs perfectly normal, and he is even flattered that your omega trusts him enough to want his help during your heat. He asks if the clothes helped, and you thank him for them.
ââM not giving them back though.â You pout. He only laughs heartily.
âI will give you all of them, sweetheart. Just ask.â
Your heart flutters. Your omega purrs, satisfied.
You go over the events of the heat in the following days once itâs over, how badly you wanted him there, how difficult it was to live off his scent alone, especially as it kept fading from his clothes day after day. When he is sprawled on your couch the next Saturday, you finally ask him to scent you.
His eyes go wide, flitting between yours, as if trying to decipher your state of mind.
âAre you sure?â He sits up, forgetting the TV completely. âYou have to think about it. Scenting isâŚ.. very intimate.â
You nod. âI have thought about it, Cheol. If I didnât want it, I wouldnât ask.â
He only hesitates for a moment longer, nodding. âOkay.â
You donât know what to do with yourself as he turns to face you properly. Your heart is beating fast already, and you play with your fingers, trying to calm down. He must notice, because he reaches for your hands, gently holding them between his own.
âDeep breaths.â He instructs you. âEverything is okay.â
His voice has a deep, calming timbre to it, and you feel yourself soften slightly at his words. This is happening. You are trusting an alpha to invade your most sensitive sense. Despite how nervous you are, you think of the comfort it will bring.
âCan we do it in my nest?â
That catches him by surprise too. Thatâs two in one day, and if you werenât so anxious, you would find it a bit comical. But he nods, and you notice how eager it is. Your heart squeezes a bit, and you realise that Seungcheol really has gone so long without acting on his very base instincts of touching and scenting you. His alpha must be restless beyond belief at this point.
Five minutes later, youâre lying on your bed, surrounded by a carefully organized mess of clothes that youâve built into the perfect nest. You have lots of pieces of clothing in there, and you can see Seungcheolâs nose twitch a bit in annoyance when he catches the scent of another alpha, zeroing in on the wool scarf that once belonged to Mingyu. Itâs common knowledge that an omega will create nests from the clothes of any person they find comfort in. You have things from Seungkwan in there too, but they are nothing compared to the huge piles of clothes that belong to Seungcheol, and that placates him a little. He knows that if and when he mates you, he is going to shred Mingyuâs scarf into a million pieces. Until then, you can have it.
He hovers over you, making sure he isnât crowding you too much. You look more at home here, more at ease, and he wants to think itâs because you are surrounded by his scent. The alpha in his growls deep, satisfied, seeing who he already deems as his omega lying like this between clothes that belong to and smell like him. Your chest rises in a deep inhale before the air leaves you in a long whoosh.
He starts with leaning down to nuzzle against your cheek. You close your eyes, tilting your head to the side and up. You can practically feel how shaky his breath is as you present yourself to him like this, and you marvel at his restraint once again. Your hands clench into fists, and you feel a surge of need in you again.
âCheolie.â You rasp.
âIâm here.â His breath hits your neck and you shiver at the feeling. Then he leans down to the junction between your neck and shoulder, just over your scent gland. He exhales on it carefully, and itâs warm against your skin. You bite your lower lip hard.
His tongue is tentative as it licks over the now swollen, needy gland. He keeps doing that for a couple of minutes, little kitten licks that relax your limbs the more he swipes over the area. He breathes out again, his breath mixing with the pheromones now coming off you in waves. He leans lower, closer to you, his elbows on either side of your head, before finally latching his lips over your skin to give in a soft suck.
Your back arches involuntarily, pleasure zipping through you. You know your scent is thickening with your arousal, and so is Seungcheolâs. The heady mix of both of them is making your head spin a bit. Seungcheol alternates between licks and sucks, making sure to cover the skin around your glands with his spit too. It feels deliciously territorial, a side of him you have experienced only fleetingly when he places a hand firmly on your waist, or when an alpha gets a bit too close and he stares them down. You wonder about it, about how badly he is holding himself back from pummeling another alpha into the ground when he gets too close. Mingyu has mentioned it a few times, that Seungcheolâs scent sours when he feels jealous. You want to see more of it. You want him to claim you as his.
Itâs the first time you feel the need to be claimed, and it makes you whimper. Seungcheol hums into your neck.
âFeel good?â His voice has dropped a few octaves, and the low grunt makes something zip down your core. You barely managed a jerky nod.
âYes, Alpha.â
The title makes him bristle pleasantly, and he doubles his efforts at making sure your scent glands are bathed in him. He keeps going for what feels like hours. When you walk into the office the next day, Seungkwanâs nose scrunches up, claiming he would confuse you with a mated omega if you reeked even a little bit more.
You get addicted to the feeling of Seungcheol scenting you. And he is more than happy to provide. Every morning, he grips your waist tight, lapping over your neck before you walk into work, making sure everyone in the building knows that you have an alpha you can call your own. He whispers to you how delicious you smell when your scent is mixed with his, how good it makes his alpha feel. You are shy about it still, but he loves it when you carefully and hesitantly kiss over his own scent glands. You donât know why he would want your scent, but he claims he wants it just as bad, says he is as much yours as you are his.
By the time your next heat rolls around, you are sure you want Seungcheol to spend it with you.
Heâs hesitant, naturally. You two have come a long way, but helping you in heat is basically the final step. The end of the line. Thereâs no coming back from something as intimate as that, and he worries. You know he is only looking out for you, but you also know yourself. Thereâs no way you can make it through this heat without him now. He could drench his clothes in buckets of his sweat and it still wouldnât replace the feeling of his lips suckling on your glands, his hands running slowly over your waist. You need him there, and you tell him as much.
Seungcheol takes the preparation during your pre-heat very seriously. He asks for time off for both of you, essentially solidifying in the office what is going to happen. Seungkwan is shameless about it as he teases you, but you whack him upside the head with a thick folder and that shuts him up. Seungcheol shows up at your place with a large bag of his essentials. Anything he will need, some groceries he picked up along the way, and more of his clothes. At this point, you wonder if he has anything left in his closet at all.
He cooks and portions meals for you. He stashes protein bars, electrolyte packets, and a case of water bottles in your room. He doesnât let you move, telling you to rest as much as you can because youâll be needing your strength when the heat hits. His implication makes you flush, and you wonder how it will feel. You watch him putter around your room from where you lay in your nest, making sure everything is accessible to him. Youâve never taken a knot before. If you think back to before you met Seungcheol, the very thought of one would repulse you. But as you ponder about it now, him naked over you, skin to skin, shoving the swollen base of his cock inside you, you canât help but think of how good it will feel.
Seungcheol, as in tune with you as he is, can smell the shift in your scent. He gives you a tiny smile, heavy with understanding.
âAre you still with me, omega?â He asks, leaning over to run a cool hand over the heated skin of your forehead. You hum. Your eyelids feel heavy, and it takes a lot of strength to keep them open. Seungcheol places his hand over your eyes to keep them closed.
âTry and sleep. Iâll be here when you wake up.â
You listen to his words without a second thought. It seems your brain is already shutting down, depending on him to tell you what to do. Your nap is short lived and fitful, and when you wake up again, you are breathing heavily. Your shirt is already sticking to your back. Eyes only half open, vision unfocused, you paw at the shirt, trying to lift your heavy arms so you can pull it off.
âHere. Let me.â His voice cuts through the haze. You can feel his hands, still cooler than your body temperature, grip your shirt so he can tug it off you. Cool air hits you, and you wonder if he has turned the thermostat down to better cater to your needs.
âBetter?â
You hum, turning towards the sound. You blink furiously until your vision is clear enough to see his head of thick brown hair to your right. You reach for him.
âAlpha.â Your voice trembles, and a painful cramp shoots through your lower stomach. You wince. Seungcheol is on top of you immediately, leaning down to bite gently on your scent gland, as if coaxing your omega to calm down. It listens, settling a bit.
âIâm here.â His weight on you feels heavenly. You can feel your muscles relax. But the cramp persists. âTell me what you need.â
âI donât-â You almost cry out as you feel the cramp sharpen. âI donât know. Alpha, please-â
He shushes you, hands dipping into the waistband of your shorts until he is tugging them off. They stick to your crotch like skin, leaving wet strings as they part from you. Your inner thighs are already drenched. Seungcheol had noticed as you slept, but he didnât want to wake you. The more you are turned on, the easier it will be to make you cum multiple times, and the quicker your heat will break in the long run.
He doesnât wait before he reaches down, carefully rubbing the pads of his fingers over your swollen clit. You gasp and jerk at the feeling, and Seungcheol uses that moment to dip two fingers inside your desperately clenched opening. Your eyes nearly roll up at the feeling, and you donât hold back your satisfied sigh. It encourages him to sink in to the last knuckle, feeling almost no resistance as your body stretches to accommodate him. All that courting, that dating, that scenting, it may have been slow as hell, near torture for him, but it seems that by now, every cell in your body is moulded to recognise him. He watches you arch into him, your legs spreading more, your pussy greedily sucking his fingers in, and he marvels at how pliant you are under him. You have truly given all of yourself to him, and he takes that as a great responsibility. Youâre his omega, bite or not, and he will make sure you are heavy with his pups by the time you leave this nest.
Fuck. Maybe your heat is making him delirious too. His alpha is rearing to knot you. But he needs to prep you first.
You cum on his fingers twice before he even thinks about putting his cock in you. He coaxes each orgasm out of you with the expert curl of his fingers, his lips at your ear, whispering praises that seem to reverberate in your skull about how good you are, the perfect little omega for him, how much he loves your tiny little pussy, how much he loves taking care of you like this, how badly he wants to give you his knot. Youâre sobbing by the time he is lining his tip against your entrance, cheeks drenched in heavy tears, still so turned on despite already cumming twice, and when he penetrates you, sinks into you in one fell swoop, you lock around him and cum hard for the third time. He groans, long and low, struggling against the feeling of your walls fluttering around him, watching you writhe under him.
âGood girl.â He coos, voice so gravelly and deep that you could cum again just hearing him talk. âSo good for me. So perfect.â
Youâre lightheaded, the air feels like cotton pressing into your skin. Your limbs have no power, and you are surprised you can even spread your legs for Seungcheol. Just his massive cock sinking into you is enough to drive you up the wall, and when he finally starts moving, you wail.
Seungcheol encourages you every step of the way. He coaxes you to talk through the rough pounding, even if your words are incoherent and choppy. You babble on about how good his cock feels, how badly you want his knot and his cum. Every sound from you seems to rile him up even more. When you keen, your omega whining long and high pitched in the depths of your chest, it only spurs him on. He fucks you through another orgasm before the base of his cock finally starts to swell, and at the promise of a knot, you writhe desperately.
He shoves himself inside you, knot swelling and locking inside your weeping pussy as he groans and finally cums, flooding your insides with his seed. Tingles run over your skin, through your very bones, as the desperate, primal creature inside you settles, finally sedated, finally happy. Seungcheolâs torso undulates over you, bare skin to bare skin, prolonging his own high so he can dump more of his load inside you. He is shiny with sweat and exertion, and you admire him as the fog in your head lifts. His hair falls over his eyes, and his lips are pretty pink from being bitten raw. You pull him down by his broad shoulders, nuzzling into his neck, nibbling on the skin. He hums and lets you stake your claim on him.
âBetter?â
You nod, allowing him to pull you both so you are lying on your sides, waiting for the knot to go down. Your muscles feel muted, like someone flipped a switch inside you. By the time Seungcheolâs knot goes down, you are almost half asleep. He tries his best to make you stay awake long enough to down a bottle of water and a protein bar, promising you food when you wake up next, tucking you carefully into your nest.
The next few days are bliss.
You never associated heats with anything good before. They were always painful experiences, a flurry of cramps and dizziness, like a trial you had to get through. But Seungcheol flips the script around. He pumps you full whenever you ask for it, knot after knot, until you are so satisfied that you canât think straight, canât even speak right. You are covered, inside and out, with him. He litters your body with his marks, tongue and teeth working overtime to make sure that no part of you is unblemished. He feeds you during your lucid intervals, bathes you when he can, then fucks another knot into you until you are tuckered out again. When day four hits, your heat finally breaks, and you are more grateful for him than you are for yourself. You canât imagine itâs easy to keep up with you.
âAre you kidding?â He grins, stretching out beside you in your nest. âYouâre a dream. I couldnât have asked for a better omega. You were so perfect for me, every single day of your heat.â
You flush at the praise. It somehow hits even harder than the words he whispered while driving his cock into you in the throes of heat. He nuzzles your neck, sighing and relaxing beside you, licking over your scent gland. Thereâs no need for that. You reek of him anyway. But you let him do it, dreaming of the day his teeth break the barrier of your skin there, making you his permanently.
PAIRING: Alpha!Seungcheol x Omega! f.readerÂ
SUMMARY: A heatwave in your city makes dealing with your hormones more difficult than usual. Getting locked in a lobby at work for an hour with an alpha makes it ten times worse. Thankfully, Seungcheol is there to help you - and maybe a little more.Â
WC: 18,512
AU: Omegaverse, Coworkers to Lovers
GENRE: Smut, A bit of Fluff, the barest hint of angst
RATING: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging in and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately.
WARNINGS: Mix of traditional and nontraditional Omegaverse dynamics in terms of heat cycles, social statuses, and body chemistry but this fic doesnât really dip into it very heavily - including no knotting or any of the traditional lore. There are brief mentions of social discourse and discrimination across all three subgenders. Reader has some internal back and forth and moments of feeling embarrassed and frustrated with her body and hormonal fluctuations. Some internal stresses/anxieties on readerâs part about what comes after with Seungcheol. Seungcheol is a touch possessive in parts. Explicit language. Explicit sexual content including very gratutious smut, oral (f. and m. receiving), multiple orgasms, overstimulation, biting, a lot of spit/slick/fluids mentions, nipple play, vaginal fingering, lots of praise (use of good/good girl/baby often), not explicit dom/sub dynamics but more alpha/omega dynamics, no use of a condom as in - I just never wrote one in and they never talk about it tbh I just forgot lol - reader experiences some highs and lows through her heat emotionally⌠I think thatâs mostly it. Please tell me if I forgot anything.Â
A/N: I donât know how I ended up writing so much of this, but here we are. Readerâs struggles as an omega are inspired directly by my struggles with PCOS, especially living in a very hot climate and constantly having fluctuating hormones and just having to exist!!! I hope you enjoy this as much as I did while writing it.Â
A/N 2: Thank you @daechwitatamic for beta reading this - I love u thank u hehe.Â
SMUT NOTICE:Â This fic contains multiple smut scenes. If you donât like reading smut, this fic will be complicated to understand if you skip multiple smut scenes.
MASTERLIST | ASK | NOW PLAYING: BAMBI BY BAEKHYUN
SWEAT TRICKLES DOWN THE BACK OF YOUR NECK AND THIGHS. Irritated, you wipe at the back of your neck for what feels like the hundredth time before pulling at the collar of your shirt, fanning it in hopes of cooling the rest of your body off. Itâs unseasonably hot, a heat wave sweeping through the city and turning your office cubicle into a toaster oven.
The small fan on your desk whirs pitifully, barely offering any sort of respite. Adjusting in your seat does nothing but remind you how uncomfortable you are, the scratchy grain of the chair digging into the back of your sweating thighs, the underwire of your bra digging into your ribs, the heat rash forming where your underwear digs into the creases of your hips.Â
Unbearable.Â
A message pings on your computer and you open it, growling in irritation as you see a message from Wonwoo in the cubicle behind you.Â
Jeon Wonwoo: Ever heard of suppressants, diva?Â
You: ITâS FUCKING HOT IN HERE
You: Tell this company to BUY SOME FUCKING AIRCONDITIONERSÂ
You grab the nearest pen and whip around in your chair, launching it at the back of his head. It hits with a satisfying thwack. He flinches, cursing as his hand flies up to rub the spot where you nailed him. Wonwoo turns in his seat, shooting you a dirty look over his shoulder.
You meet his glare with a stuck-out tongue and a very deliberate middle finger before turning back to your screen, face flushed, partially from the heat, partially from embarrassment.
He doesnât get it. You know heâs just teasing, but it still stings. That old, familiar insecurity curls in your gut at his jest, no matter its innocence. Being an omega is hard enough. Youâve spent years unlearning shame, of trying to accept this part of yourself you never asked for. And youâve gotten pretty far with that.Â
But then something as simple as a heatwave hits, the rise in temperature turning your body traitorous, unable to accommodate for a little bit of humid air and heat.Â
Of course, Wonwoo doesnât understand - canât conceptualize the level of difficulty it is to maintain a baseline for you. Betas donât have to deal with this kind of hormonal chaos. Sure, theyâve got their own issues - media erasure, medical neglect, in general being left out - but itâs not the same. Not when your body actively works against you, not when your biology fights you.Â
You sigh. Thereâs no point in going down the rabbit hole and comparing omegas and betas. Youâve traveled that road since your subgender presented itself in your freshman year of college. Comparison is the thief of joy, but itâs also an endless torture device.Â
Your thighs rub together uncomfortably when you get up. You swipe your water bottle, unscrewing the cap as you duck out of your cubicle, head down and steps fast. Youâre pretty sure Wonwoo is attuned to your scent more than others, having been one of your closest friends and cubicle-neighbor for the better part of five years. But still, youâre nervous about it, hand snaking up to touch the translucent patch on the side of your neck, meant to dampen the smell from your glands.Â
No one pays you much mind. You breathe a sigh of relief to find the break room empty. You make a beeline to the water cooler in the corner, sliding the water bottle under it and pressing the tap. As it fills, the air conditioning kicks on, the vent right above you.Â
Cool air hits the back of your neck. Your eyes flutter, a shiver of relief slithering through you. For a moment, you lose yourself, letting the cool wick away the sticky sweat, the first time youâve felt a little relief all day. A small sound escapes your mouth, half whimper and half plea.Â
Someone clears their throat and you flinch, losing your grip on the water bottle. It crashes to the ground, water splashing up your legs but more importantly, all over the floor. You squeak in panic, diving to pick it up in an attempt to stop the outflow of water.Â
Hands dripping, you pivot on your heel, scanning for paper towels only to find them being offered. You blink in surprise, body going rigid as you become acutely aware of who is offering them.Â
Choi Seungcheol watches you with quiet concern, dark eyes steady behind his glasses. He keeps a respectful distance, arms extended with a roll of paper towels, waiting for you to take them. But you donât move. Your pulse pounds in your neck as your gaze drops from his face to his hands, large and patient.
He has pretty hands, you think absently, staring a beat too long.
For a moment, all you can hear is the roar of blood in your ears. Then, he steps forward without a word, crouching down to wipe the water pooling around your feet. You jerk, startled, a sharp sound of protest escaping you as you drop down and snatch more paper towels from his hands. Apologies tumble out, disjointed and breathless, your thoughts scattered.Â
He doesnât back away. Instead, he methodically dabs at the wet tile while trying to avoid soaking himself in the process. His proximity is overwhelming, his spicy scent nearly knocking you over. You grit your teeth and clench your jaw, irritated. Heâs not supposed to affect you like this - never has before.Â
Seungcheol is always mild. Unassuming. Heâs worked here as long as you have, one of the few alphas on your floor, and one of the most reserved. He keeps to his office, always dimly lit, always quiet. He greets you politely. Never lingers.Â
It surprised you when you first met him. Seungcheol looks like the type of alpha who is the opposite of quiet and shy. Thereâs a gravitas to him that you havenât quite figured out and a body made to ruin. Broad shoulders, thick arms, a voice deep enough to rattle through your spine even on your best days.Â
Yet somehow, heâs never once made a pass on a single omega at work.Â
Which, he shouldnât. You respect that about him, which feels ridiculous. You shouldnât have to be flattered by the bare minimum of respect, shouldnât need to be surprised when an alpha is able to be normal. To treat you like a human being.Â
You mumble a quiet thanks, focusing on the mess. Itâs the only thing tethering you right now. It shouldnât feel this intense, but the goddamn heat is getting to you. Itâs baking you from the inside out, turning your cube walls suffocating. It makes you tired. Irritable. Prone to throwing pens at Wonwooâs head.Â
âThanks,â you mutter when you stand. You toss the soggy paper towels into the bin, avoiding his gaze. âSorry again.âÂ
âNo need to apologize. Iâm sorry I startled you.â
Seungcheol stands slowly. You donât move, watching the way he wipes his damp hands across his slacks. You hate that you notice how the fabric pulls over his thighs. As soon as you have the thought, you avert your eyes, looking anywhere but him, afraid that heâll see the embarrassment or the way your body reacts without your permission.Â
âItâs been a long week,â Seungcheol offers, voice soft. âYou alright? I know Jeonghan had you working on that insane report.â
You swallow past the dry patch in your throat. âAll good. Just tired. Itâll probably keep me here forever, but what can you do?â
âMhmm. Donât forget itâs Friday - cleaning locks the office and will trap you inside.â
âSounds like youâre intimately familiar.âÂ
His smile is soft, cheeks flushed. âCannot confirm or deny.â
âI see.â You gesture to the watery floor. âThank you, again. And sorry for being a bit clumsy.â
âNo problem.âÂ
You slide away from him, hoping that he canât tell that youâre leaning, trying to avoid catching his scent again. He doesnât seem to notice - or has the decency not to make it obvious - and you slip away from the break room, all but running to your cube.
Inside your little haven, you rip open one of your drawers, grabbing a pheromone damp nasal spray. You all but shove it up your cranium, putting it as far up your nasal passage as you can manage before squeezing and shooting a blast of medical grade dampener up your nose, inhaling sharply.Â
It helps a little, settling your nerves and erasing the lingering scent of Seungcheol. You breathe out a sigh, calm and collected. Carefully and quickly, you peel the suppressant patch off your neck and swap it for a new one. It tingles when you apply it, the microneedles that embed into the skin to deliver suppressant a cool sensation at first.Â
When you settle, you feel much better. It isnât until you turn to start knocking out the rest of your report that you realize you never refilled your water bottle after dropping it, making you lean back on your desk and groan.Â
-
Working for Yoon Jeonghan comes with its challenges. He's incredibly sharp and a natural leader, but he tends to be a bit forgetful and brings a touch of chaos wherever he goes. Jeonghan is the reason youâd started working at this company, though, admiring that there was an omega in charge, defying the long-standing social norms that omegas could not lead.Â
Itâs a silly stereotype, but youâve been fighting stereotypes your entire life, unlearning your own and reminding yourself that there are still inherent biases to unlearn.Â
Like right now, when you're mentally cursing Jeonghan for tossing a last-minute report your way, even though he had multiple reminders in his inbox and just forgot he'd opened them. You only blame him a little. Workâs been nonstop, keeping him up at all hours, and if thereâs one thing that truly makes Jeonghan unbearable, itâs sleep deprivation.
Jeonghan doesnât have an assistant, but youâre the closest thing to it, one of the few people in the office he trusts to get things done. So when heâs on vacation and starts spamming your email that he dropped the ball, itâs on you to cover for him, like heâs done for you in the past.Â
The consequence of competency, heâd told you over the phone, the sound of the ocean in the background. Iâm sorry, I owe you, please donât quit.Â
You werenât going to quit. Despite your irritation, you like working for Jeonghan, and despite the unbearable heat burning in your cubicle, you like being able to focus on pulling and building reports, inputting data into a spreadsheet and setting pivot tables and charts.
It makes you forget about the world for a little bit, including the oppressive office air and the way that the buildingâs air conditioner barely keeps up with the raging temperatures outside. Makes you forget about the incident in the breakroom, and about everything else, including the passage of time.Â
Above you, the lights go out. You flinch, looking up in surprise. Rubbing your eyes, you blink until your computer screen comes back into focus, looking at the time. You groan. Itâs past seven, far later than you meant to stay at work. But youâre done with the report, dragging the attachment to your email to fire it off to Jeonghan with a less than happy emoji pasted in the body of the email.Â
Exhaustion weighs you down when you stand. Your joints pop and everything feels hot and itchy again, all of your irritations flooding back to pester you now that youâre not locked in on your work. You flip off the fan, lamp and computer at your desk. Immediately without air circulation, your cube is sweltering, the dress sticking to you, fabric itchy and clinging to your skin.
A sudden wave of dizziness makes the room tilt around you. You steady yourself with deep, measured breaths, trying to stay grounded. A spike in temperature is normal. You can deal with it. Itâs manageable. Sure, the heat triggers a surge of estriolase, the hormone that kicks in during Stage 1 of an omegaâs heat cycle. And sure, it leaves you flushed, restless, skin prickling with irritation, and-Â Â
âYouâre still here?â
You shriek, whirling around, heart hammering as your hand flies to your chest in terror. Seungcheol takes a cautious step back into the hallway, hands lifted in surrender, quiet concern etched into his features. For a moment, the air between you is thick with silence, broken only by your uneven breathing, still reeling from the rush of epinephrine and cortisol.
Being an omega means constantly walking a tightrope of hormones. One shift sets off another, like dominoes toppling. Fear bumps into instinct, instinct stirs something deeper, until your body is a storm of tangled biochemistry.
Now, your body is caught in a storm of fear, annoyance, embarrassment and interest, each one fighting for dominance. You swallow thickly and lean off your desk, ignoring the way your body flashes between hot and cold, fear and something else.
âJust finished Jeonghanâs report.â
âAh.âÂ
Something passes his face. Itâs unreadable, but heâs focused. Your skin prickles under the heavy weight of his stare, watching as his mouth tightens at the corner.Â
âYou heading out?âÂ
âYeah.â
A beat passes. His gaze flickers briefly, so fast that youâre not sure you track the movement correctly, but you swear it drops to the patch on your neck, dampening your scent. His jaw flexes once before he offers you a tight smile, gesturing.Â
âMind if I walk you out? Itâs late.â
Your heart hammers. âSure.âÂ
Youâve walked out of work with Seungcheol before. He offers to walk anyone out when itâs after hours, even if he himself isnât leaving yet. It has nothing to do with your subgender and everything to do with him being kind, a sort of stoic office guardian.
Grabbing the rest of your things, you follow Seungcheol in silence. The building is quiet, both of you the only people still around on a weekend. The lack of sound amplifies everything else: the sound of your own quickened breathing, the warmth pulsing under your skin, the spicy scent of Seungcheol as he steps onto the elevator, lingering at the threshold to hold the door open for you.
You murmur a thank you as you pass by him. You canât help the shiver that snakes through you as you pass. You clench your fists, angry and willing yourself to calm down. This has never happened around Seungcheol, and you blame the fucking weather for the way your body overrides you now.Â
The forty five seconds spent in the elevator are borderline hell. Neither of you says anything. Youâve pressed yourself in the corner, trying to remain nonchalant, like your entire world isnât spinning, like there isnât a dull ache in the pit of your stomach, like there isnât saliva pooling at the back of your tongue.Â
Seungcheol smells warm. Grounding. Something that lingers, sharp and clean with a bit of a bite. You breathe in, trying to figure it out. Perhaps bergamot and cardamom, spice touched by sweetness, a hint of earth.Â
The elevator dings and Seungcheol is halfway through the lobby before you realize it. You push off the elevator wall after him, steps stilted and uneven. Itâs even hotter in the tiny lobby of your office building, making a bead of sweat trail down the back of your neck. You adjust your dress, licking your lips in an attempt to relieve the hot flash threatening you.Â
Seungcheol pushes on the glass doors at the front, but they donât budge. Both of you stand and stare for a second before he curses low under his breath, voice like gravel. You ignore what your stomach does at the sound of it as he turns to look at you, expression wary.
âRemember what I said in the break room?â You definitely remember the break room, but not anything he said. âThe cleaners come on Friday evenings and they lock the doors.âÂ
âOh.â
Seunghecol walks back to the elevator and swipes his badge at the scanner and presses the button. The metal doors do not open again, and the button doesnât light up. He curses again, pinching the bridge of his nose right beneath his glasses.Â
âBadges donât work after hours.â
âThey donât?â
âNo. Itâs not the first time Iâve been stuck here, unfortunately.â He adjusts the strap on his bag and pulls a cellphone from his pocket. âThankfully I have securityâs number saved for exactly that reason.â
Seungcheolâs words do little to bring you relief. He paces a few steps away from you, dialing a number on the phone. He holds the phone to his ear, waiting for security to pick up. His free hand is stuffed into the pocket of his slacks, thumb tapping idly. You stand a few feet away, arms crossed, trying to focus on the sterile, white glow of the lobby lights instead of the way your skin feels like itâs humming.
âYeah, itâs me.â Seungcheolâs voice sounds loud, making you twitch. âYes, Iâm locked in the lobby again.â He glances at you. âIâm with another coworker as well. The badge isnât working to get us back up. Can you come let us out?âÂ
You barely register his words. A flush is working its way up from your stomach to your chest, your chest to your shoulders, shoulder to elbows. You feel it unfurl, the slow-burning petals of a flower blooming. The air feels thick and heavy, almost damp, and no amount of focused breathing seems to help with the pulse you feel throbbing in your neck.
Seungcheolâs voice momentarily pulls you from your daze. âTheyâre sending someone from central security. Might take about an hour, though. They were in the middle of a shift rotation.âÂ
You nod, swallowing hard. âAlright.âÂ
âAre you alright?â Seungcheol asks quietly, eyes fixated on you.Â
You open your mouth to say yes, but the word dies in your throat. Because youâre not. Not really. Thereâs a heat curling deep in your belly now, slow and insistent, and your clothes feel too tight, your skin too sensitive. You press your palm against the marble wall behind you, trying to ground yourself with the coolness of the stone.
âYeah,â you manage, nodding and giving him a thumbs up.Â
Youâre anything but. It hits you slowly, but when it does, it locks into place with terrifying clarity: the dizziness, the temperature spikes, the way everything around you sounds sharper, smells sharper, the bergamot and cardamom.Â
Your body is crawling toward Stage 1 of heat, triggered by the unbearable temperature spike across the city and the unbearable proximity of the alpha standing across the lobby from you.Â
You shift your weight, arms tightening around yourself, every nerve ending suddenly too aware of Seungcheolâs presence. Heâs not even close, but you can feel him. Or maybe itâs just your scent receptors going haywire, both just as likely.Â
âYouâre flushed,â he says after a moment, eyes not quite meeting yours now. âYou sure youâre not getting sick?â
âNo,â you say too quickly. âI donât think itâs that.â
Seungcheolâs brows pull together, not believing you but not sure what to make of it. He shifts his weight, gaze scanning you, trying to figure you out. You refuse to meet his eyes, looking up at the lobby lights that are too bright, making you squint. But you can feel him watching you, his gaze intense.Â
âYou look uncomfortable.â He shifts a little further from you. âI apologize if-â
âItâs not you!â You blurt, a little forceful. âItâs just hot in here. Itâs⌠hard on me.âÂ
When he doesnât answer, you dare a look at him. Seungcheol tilts his head slightly, like he doesnât believe you but wonât push it. He nods, leaning against a wall, crossing his arms over his chest. Your eyes track the way his biceps flex, the way his shirt compresses across his chest and your mouth goes dry.Â
He studies you carefully now, eyes narrowing just slightlyânot in suspicion, but understanding. Something settles in his expression, the faintest flicker of recognition behind his eyes. Fuck. Fuck. He knows. He knows and the embarrassment is so overwhelming you nearly fold over and start crying.Â
Still, he doesn't call you out. Doesnât voice what youâre sure he knows, what his instincts are telling him. Doesnât corner you with it.
Instead, he says, âTell me something you enjoy.â
âWhat?â
He watches you, eyes soft. âAnything. To pass time. I only know the basics about you. Tell me something youâre passionate about.â
Something you're passionate about? A million things run through your mind. You grab the first thing you can think of, a single subject that youâre well-versed in.
âThereâs a theory that the Tyrannosaurus Rex didnât roar.âÂ
He looks confused. âThe dinosaur?âÂ
âYes. Like you know in the movie how they⌠rahhh.â You imitate the noise, immediately wanting to smack yourself for the ridiculousness of it. He presses his lips together, trying not to laugh. He nods and gestures for you to continue, dark eyes focused only on you. âSo itâs a total myth. Scientists think they made way lower sounds, like⌠you know when crocodiles do that weird purr?âÂ
âCrocodile purr?â
âYeah you know when theyâŚâ You hunch your shoulders. âDo that weird water rumble thing.âÂ
âI think I follow.â
You nod rapidly, grateful for the distraction even as your heart beats way too fast. âYeah, like a subsonic hum. They think it was more intimidating that way. A sound that could vibrate through the chest cavity of its prey. Honestly, itâs kind of genius.â
He watches you with quiet amusement, one brow raised but not mocking. âI didnât know you were into dinosaurs.â
âI was obsessed as a kid,â you admit, shrugging, eyes still fixed on the security panel like itâll spark to life if you ignore it long enough. âUsed to correct people all the time. I was that kid. I got in trouble once for lecturing my cousin while playing with dinosaurs because Stegosaurus and a T. rex never existed at the same time. They lived millions of years apart! And he was trying to tell me they were best friends.â You scoff. âAs if.â
You hear a soft chuckle across the lobby and you look up to meet his face. Your pulse flutters again, reminding you why Seungcheol asked you to distract yourself in the first place.Â
As though he can sense where your thoughts are going, Seungcheol asks, âSo are you one of those people who thinks the Jurassic Park raptors were too big?âÂ
You huff, a flare of irritation licking through you. âWell yeah. They were too big, thank you for asking. Plus, Alan Grant pointed out in the first movie that they were the size of turkeys, and then they get to Isla Nublar and theyâre fucking six feet tall! And they were supposed to have feathers!â
âNot very intimidating.â
âI mean, I feel like a giant bird of prey is pretty intimidating.âÂ
Seungcheol grins and you feel another shiver threaten to pulse through you. His grin is beautiful, turning his face from intimidating to soft in seconds. âIâm never going to be able to take them seriously again, I think.â
âYouâre welcome.â
Itâs quiet again. The tension from earlier hasnât disappeared, but something in the air feels different. Sweat fills the creases behind your knees, beads on the small of your back, gathers on your thighs. Your rambling had made you forget about it all for a moment, but now itâs back, the awareness of the way your body is crawling toward Stage 1 of your heat.Â
If security gets here soon, youâll be okay. Itâs the lightest phase of the cycle, manageable with some effort and focus. But itâs unpredictable. Sometimes it lingers, sometimes it crashes into the next stage without warning. And while your body usually keeps a steady three-month rhythm, outside stimuli can trigger an early onset.
Like being trapped in an overheated lobby with an alpha just a few yards away. One whoâs quiet, watching, aware.Â
Still, itâs not unmanageable. Youâve handled worse. If you can get home in time, the meds waiting in your cabinet will ease you through the worst of it, keep you from slipping into second and third stage alone, unprepared.
If notâŚ
No, you canât think about that. If you stray too far to the second stage of your cycle before getting home, your options are limited and grim.Â
You donât like any of them.Â
You shift your stance again, ankles crossing and uncrossing, arms hugging your waist like that might hold everything in place. But itâs not helping anymore. Your skin feels too tight, like it doesnât fit right on your body. The heat is building now, no longer a low thrum, but a steady pulse radiating from your core, licking up your spine and sinking into your limbs. Your breaths come shorter, faster, and thereâs a dull ache beginning in your lower belly, something deep and hormonal and utterly beyond your control.
âHey,â Seungcheol says, causing you to look at him. His face is soft. Concerned. âYou still with me?â
The way he says it, soft and gentle, makes things worse. Makes you want to whine and cross the lobby floor to him, to let him pull you in tight and tell you itâll be okay. To comfort you. The desire is so bad that you realize youâre much farther into Stage 1 than you thought.
Panic starts to nip at your heels. Youâre unsure what to do. Thereâs nothing on you besides your nasal spray and your patches to help you out, but those arenât what you need. Your patches protect others from your scent and the nasal spray protects you from others - from Seungcheol.Â
You try to answer, but your voice catches in your throat, coming out thin and shaky. âIâm okay.â
âAre you in prodrome?â he asks quietly, voice pitched low and careful.
You flinch when he finally says it out loud, letting the acknowledgement ring in the lobby. You close your eyes for a moment, your silence an answer in itself.Â
Seungcheol sighs and pulls his phone back out of his pocket, dialing as he lifts it to his ear. âYeah, I know. Look, you need to expedite. My colleague needs medical assistance and weâre still locked in the lobby. No⌠no.â Seungcheol glances at you. âSheâs experiencing prodrome. Can you please expedite? Yes. Thank you.âÂ
He hangs up and turns back to you, stepping slowly so he doesnât overwhelm, arms loose at his sides in a show of calm. âTheyâre sending someone now. Shouldnât be long.â
You nod, but your breathing is uneven, shallow now. You can feel the sweat dripping down your spine, the pressure behind your eyes. Everything smells too sharp, too thick. Especially him. Spice and warmth and safety. Itâs awful.Â
Seungcheol stays where he is, a careful distance between you, but his voice is steady when he says, âTell me what you need. What I can do to help.â
âIâm fine.â
âI mean it. If you need space, Iâll back off. If you need something cold, weâll figure it out. Just donât⌠donât try to pretend this isnât happening. Let me help you.âÂ
The kindness in his voice cracks something in your chest. No judgment, no pressure, just him, steady and solid, offering help while your body betrays you one symptom at a time.Â
You swallow hard. âI just need to get out. I just need to make it home before it gets worse.â
Seungcheol nods, no hesitation. âThen weâll get you home. I promise.â
Time moves like molasses. The silence between you thickens. You give up on standing, sitting on the cool tile floor. It only offers momentary respite until youâre panting again, struggling to maintain your grip on yourself.Â
Itâs not working. Your entire body is pulsing, tingling, burning in waves that crest and fall without rhythm. Your skin itches with hypersensitivity, every shift of your clothes unbearable, your breath slow and ragged. It feels like youâre melting, burning up from the forge in your chest.
You can feel Seungcheol watching you from his assigned corner. He says nothing, keeping a respectful distance. You steal a glance at him through bleary eyes. Heâs just leaning against the wall, hands clenched and jaw tight. Heâs doing his best to appear calm, but you see signs of irritation. His throat works and your eyes linger on the way his Adam's apple bobs for too long. You think about sinking your teeth into his neck, tasting him-
His scent, normally warm and grounded, spikes. You sense the shift and it makes you squirm, pressing yourself further into the wall. You look away from him, hiding your face in your shoulder while you squeeze your eyes shut as another wave of cramping crashes into you.Â
Seungcheolâs irritation is sharp. Shame floods you, thick and fast. Of course heâs annoyed. Today has gone from bad to worse. Heâs now stuck in a lobby with an omega in prodrome, a liability that he now has to be responsible for, and youâre barely holding it together, shaking like a live wire. Youâre stuck, and heâs stuck with you, and-
The lobby doors beep and hiss open. You donât even lift your head. Donât even hear the first few words from the guards. You only feel cool night air and the sudden shift in pressure, making you keen and melt into the tile.Â
Seungcheol appears at your side, his scent fading from acrid to soothing.Â
âHey,â he murmurs, crouching down to your level. Itâs the closest heâs been to you all day. You feel the heat of him, the nearness overwhelming. âTheyâre here. We can go.â
You donât move. The thought of moving suddenly seems like an insurmountable task. Your world is tilting, your ears ringing. Your limbs feel detached from your brain and your body is locked, curled in on itself. Heat prickles across your skin like static.
Worst of all, youâre starting to panic. Fear sets in, stabbing deep. You donât know how to get up and take the train home. Donât know how to get yourself up the stairs and into your apartment. To the cabinet to take a suppressant. To the fridge for water.Â
Seungcheolâs voice sharpens. âHey. Look at me.â
Itâs a command. You blink up at him, barely able to focus. Something flashes behind his eyes and heâs on the phone again. âHi, I need emergency assistance for an omega. Sheâs in heat prodrome and sheâs deteriorating fast. No, sheâs conscious. Sheâs overheating, but having trouble standing and struggling to focus. I have no idea what to do.âÂ
You barely hear the voice on the other end of the line, but Seungcheol does. His expression shifts, each word they say tightening his jaw.
âSheâs a coworker - we were locked in a lobby at work but I can take her to an omega hospital.â You whimper and shake your head vehemently, whining. He softens. âThey said they can give you a heat inhibitor on-site.âÂ
âNo,â you pant. âIt hurts.â
He nods. âI canât do that, she doesnât want to go.â The operator says something else and he nods. His eyes tighten at the corners and he glances at you. âI can take you to a service clinic. They can assign you-â
âHome,â you plead. âI just need to get home. I can- I can deal with it.â
âI donât know⌠do you have, um. Do you have an alpha you usuallyâŚ?â
âNo.â
Tears well up fast and hot, blurring your vision, sliding down your cheeks in silent streaks. Your whole body feels wrong, like youâve been unraveled from the inside, trembling and raw.
âI just want to go home,â you whisper, folding in on yourself. âI have my meds. I can manage if I can just get home. Please.â
He repeats what you say into the phone. They say something and he shakes his head and hangs up, shoving his phone into his pocket. âOkay. Alright. Weâre going to get you home, okay?âÂ
He helps you to your feet slowly, carefully, arms braced around you like heâs afraid youâll break. You lean into him, weak and unsteady, but thereâs no judgment in his touch, just quiet strength and a protective kind of focus that makes your throat tighten all over again.
The lobby fades behind you. The night air hits your overheated skin like salvation. Seungcheol doesnât say a word as he guides you into the passenger seat of his car, buckles you in, and throws his jacket over your lap for warmth. His hands are shaking as he starts the engine.
âCan you give me directions?â
You mumble them. Youâre not even sure that he hears you. He has no idea the bomb heâs given you, tossing his jacket over you. Your fingers curl into it, greedy. Inhaling deeply, you feel yourself drift as he drives, the hum of the engine lulling you into a half-daze. The smell of Seungcheol is overwhelming, but comforting. Steady. No longer a threat, but something you want. Need.Â
It isnât until Seungcheolâs hands are gently shaking you that you realize youâre at your apartment. You blink up at him, stars in your eyes. He looks down at you, glasses a little askew as he asks you a question. His words are garbled and you donât understand, shaking your head in confusion as he gazes at you.Â
âCome on,â he sighs, unbuckling your seat for you. His chest brushes across you as he does, bergamot and cardamom hitting you so hard that it knocks the senses out of you. Youâre near catatonic for a second until you feel his hands pressed against your forehead. âFuck, youâre burning up. Can I carry you?â
You must nod, because he bends low and scoops you out of the car. You jostle against his chest as he carries you bridal style toward the stairs. His scent is mind numbing. Your face is too close to his neck and he doesnât have a scent blocker on, pheromones doing insane damage to your self control as he climbs the stairs, you in his arms like you weigh absolutely nothing.
Gently, Seungcheol places you on your feet. He slides an arm around your waist, keeping you upright and pinned to him as he unlocks your door. You have no idea where he got your keys, must have fished them out of your purse at some point.Â
Seungcheol guides you into your dark apartment, helping you to the couch like youâre made of glass. You collapse onto it, dazed. He crouches, brushing a strand of hair out of your face. His eyes are devastatingly soft, touch featherlight.Â
âLet me call a doctor.â
âNo.â Your voice is hoarse but immediate. âPlease donât. I canât go to the hospital again. I donât want to do this strapped to a bed, surrounded by strangers and white lights and IVs. I canât.âÂ
He exhales, hands flexing. âOkay. Okay. Butâthen what? Do you have anyone who can help you through it? Any alpha you-â
âNo. I just do it alone with meds. Theyâre in my bathroom cabinet. If you could just get them, I can do this.â
âI donât think meds are going to help.â His admission is soft. Regretful, almost. Like it pains him to tell you this.Â
You think heâs right, but you donât know what else to do.Â
Seungcheolâs brows furrow. You watch the internal war play out on his face, concern and hesitance and something harder to name. His throat bobs as he swallows. âIf⌠look, if thereâs no one else. I can try to help.â
You suck in a sharp breath. âWhat?â
âI can try. Only if you want. Only if you need. I donât want you to think Iâm taking advantage, I just⌠I donât want you to suffer. I know itâs not ideal, but Iâm here. I donât want to leave you like this.â
A fresh wave of tears hits you, shame curling hot in your chest.Â
âYou donât want to,â you whisper, voice cracking. âYouâre just saying that because you feel bad. And I feel awful. I didnât mean for this to happen. I donât want to put you in this position-â
âHey.â His voice is firmer now, but not unkind. He shifts forward, his hands finding yours, wrapping them gently between his palms. Your skin tingles where he touches you, a fresh wave of heat licking through you. âStop. Look at me.â
You do. Barely. His face is open and honest, his eyes warm. Heâs so pretty like this, looking at you like youâre something he cares about - someone he cares about.Â
âI want to help you. Not because I pity you. Not because I feel obligated. Because I care about you. And youâre in pain. And I can do something about it.â He takes a breath, then adds, softer, âEven if that means the more intimate parts.âÂ
Your face crumples, fresh humiliation rising, but he keeps holding your gaze, steady and calm.Â
âOnly if you want to,â he says. âOnly if youâre lucid and safe and sure. If you want me to sit on the other side of the apartment all night and just be here, I will. If you want to go to sleep and pretend this didnât happen tomorrow, Iâll follow your lead.â
âI donât want you on the other side of the apartment,â you admit. âI just feel embarrassed by what I need.â
âThereâs nothing to be embarrassed about, especially for something out of your control. Your body isnât your enemy.â
You press your lips together, fighting the emotions building in your chest, but itâs no use. A soft sob slips out before you can stop it, and Seungcheol is there in an instant, wrapping his arms around you with careful strength, cradling you against him like heâs anchoring you to the moment.
His scent hits you more fully now, warm and earthy beneath the sharp spice, like cinnamon bark and sun-warmed cedar. It fills your lungs and settles into the frantic edge of your nerves like balm, and itâs⌠comforting. Not invasive. Not overwhelming.
Just Seungcheol.Â
âIâm here,â he murmurs into your hair. âWhatever you need, we go slow. Iâll follow your pace. You lead.â
âEven if itâs more than you expected?â
âEven then.â
Seungcheol helps you sit back, propped with cushions on the couch, still watching you like you might unravel again, but not because he doubts you. Because he cares. Because heâs listening to every breath you take like it matters.
âIâll need⌠a few things,â you say, quietly. âIf this really goes into the full cycle. I have suppressants, but they wonât help much unless I can get them in the next hour, and I donât think I have that kind of time anymore.â
âOkay. Tell me what you need.â
You breathe in. âWater. A lot of it. Heat spikes dehydrate fast, and Iâll probably get a fever if we donât keep me hydrated. Heats are a game of chess except sometimes the board blows up.âÂ
âFunny. Got it.â
âAnd blankets,â you add quickly. âIâll feel cold, even if Iâm burning. Like weight and softness. Like nesting.â
âLike a bird⌠or dinosaur.â
You scowl at him and he grins, dimples appearing in his cheek. It makes you want to lean forward and bite him, to sink your teeth in and never let go.Â
âWhat else?â He asks.Â
âIâll need food eventually. Simple things. Broths, carbs. My bodyâs going to want to burn through everything at once.â
âEasy.â
âAnd proximity.â You hesitate here, voice wavering. âIâll need closeness. I havenât had a heat partner before, but probably a lot of sex. It uh - comes in waves but it helps. Obviously. So thereâs that.â
âI can do that.â Thereâs no hesitation. Just firm dedication. âItâs not a problem. What else?âÂ
You look at him, something stirring in your chest, still unsure how to express the storm of emotions bubbling beneath your skin. âWhat have you done for your omegas in the past? During heat? This is sort of new to me.â
He pauses. âI havenât. Iâve never spent a heat with an omega.â
âWhat?â
âIâve never been with an omega at all, to be honest with you.â The gravity of his statement makes you panic. You start to sit up, protests bubbling to your lips but he hushes you, eases you back down. âItâs fine. Iâm fine, I wouldnât have offered it if I wasnât totally sure.âÂ
âWhy offer at all?â
âBecause itâs you,â he says simply. âAnd Iâd rather learn how to help you than let you suffer alone.â
A beat passes.Â
âOkay,â you whisper.Â
âOkay,â he echos. âLetâs get you settled.â
Seungcheol stands, giving you one more lingering gaze before he sets himself to the task of readying your apartment. He sends you to your room to change into a pair of sweats and an oversized shirt before he lets you settle on the couch, sweaty and shaking.
Seungcheol moves through your space like heâs been here before, like he knows where everything is even when he clearly doesnât. He opens cabinets and drawers gently, always looking back at you as though heâs seeking permission. You nod each time, endeared by his hesitancy.Â
You donât know what to make of his admission of never being with an omega before. In your experience, most alphas would loathe to admit that, finding something wrong with it. But Seungcheol doesnât seem to mind, admitting it as a simple fact, neither good nor bad.Â
You like that about him, his self-assuredness.Â
When he finds your largest pot, Seungcheol fills it with water and sets it over the stove. He pulls out ingredients for simple foods: rice, pasta, anything with carbs like youâd said. He hums under his breath as he moves, a soft, low sound that vibrates in your bones.
Itâs soothing. Almost domestic. But every second that stretches between you builds like static, his very presence buzzing along your awareness like an exposed wire.Â
Seungcheol brings you a cool glass of water and kneels to hand it to you, his fingers brushing yours when you reach out to take it. You try not to flinch at the bolt of electricity that jumps up your arm. His eyes linger on your face, reading you. Not pitying. Not worried. Just seeing.Â
âYouâre doing okay?â He asks, but by his tone, he knows you are. You nod, but your throat is dry again, so you take a few gulps of water, nearly emptying the glass. He laughs and reaches for it when some spills over, running down your chin. âCareful.â
Something in his voice changes. The softness of it ripples down your spine and you look at him over the brim of your glass. His scent is warmer. Closer. Still under control, but pressing at the edges of your awareness like velvet, his alpha instincts responding to your body chemistry, the need of your hormones begging for him.Â
Seungcheol rises, keeping a respectful distance, and yet his gaze burns where it rests on you. He takes the glass from you, fingers brushing yours again before heading to the kitchen to refill it.Â
It makes you unravel, every part of you unspooling wildly as you watch him in your kitchen, the muscles under his shirt flexing. He rolls his sleeves as he turns the stove off before coming back your way, forearms bare, veins throbbing.Â
Arousal unravels inside of you. You feel the tip from Stage 1 to Stage 2, your heartbeat kicking up a notch, your hands shaking more. When Seungcheol offers the glass, you donât take it. You stare at your hands, willing yourself to stop, willing yourself to stop wanting him. The fear of making him uncomfortable is so sudden, a wave crashing into you.
Seungcheol notices. He drops to his knees immediately, putting the glass of water on the coffee table. This time, he doesnât hesitate when he touches you, putting his palm to your forehead, his other resting on top of your wrist, his thumb tracing back and forth soothingly.Â
âWhatâs wrong?â His voice is like velvet. âWhat happened?â
Your lips part, but no words come. You try again. Nothing. You donât know how to shape the words, donât know how to tell him that a second ago, you thought he was domestic and sweet, and now youâve strayed into dangerous territory, thinking that youâd like nothing more for him to pin you down and fuck you until you canât feel anything but him anymore.
You donât need to tell him. Seungcheol inhales and you see the shift happen, a shiver rattling through him. He closes his eyes, inhaling again. A knowing, almost pained sound grumbles in the back of his throat and you squirm in response. He drops his hand from your head to your shoulder, fingers squeezing.Â
âIâm sorry.â
His eyes snap open and he looks up at you, deadly serious. âHey. No shame. Not with me. You told me to help, didnât you? Let me do that.â
You nod, small and shaky. He lingers for a second longer, like he's giving you a chance to back out, then slowly rises, curling an arm around your back. You lean into him instinctively, your body already seeking contact, and he lifts you with ease.
Your bedroom isnât far, but the walk feels endless, every footstep echoes with your racing pulse. You can feel his scent thickening around you, not overpowering, but present, comforting. It keeps you tethered, grounded. You cling to him in silence, your skin flushed hot, thighs pressing together in search of friction, your heart betraying you in its longing.
He places you gently on your bed, kneeling down beside you. For a long moment, he doesnât touch you. He just watches, reading your every breath, every twitch of discomfort.
At first, you donât do anything but stare at him. Seungcheol is so beautiful, with a plush mouth made for kissing, long eyelashes that frame gentle eyes, a dimple that appears each time he smiles. Youâve always noticed him, this quiet and soft alpha in your office. Youâd never imagined youâd be here, looking up at him with want in your gut so strong that you can barely stand it.
Seungcheol senses it, because of course he does. He surges forward, catching your mouth in a gentle kiss. Itâs slow and uncertain at first, hesitating to see if you pull away. You donât pull away at all. Instead, you keen, a whine slipping between your mouths that makes him groan in response.
He deepens the kiss slowly, reverently. His lips are soft but sure, his hands careful as they frame your face. He tastes faintly of cherry chapstick, your omega running wild as you lean into him and lick into his mouth, eager to taste him.Â
âIs this what you want?â He asks, panting as he breaks the kiss. Heâs leaning onto your bed now, pressing his nose against yours. You feel him pant against you, barely contained. You nod, unable to speak. âEven if this goes further?â
âPlease.âÂ
That one word seems to break him. He climbs up into your bed, hovering over you, pinning you to the mattress. You let out a sound of appreciation as he settles, his mouth meeting yours again. This time, thereâs heat in it. One hand roams you carefully while the other is planted by your head, keeping him looming over you. Every touch eases the ache and stokes the fire in equal measure.Â
You canât get enough of him, running your hands over his stomach and around his waist, pulling at him, desperate. It feels like youâre burning up, both suffering and relieved at the same time as his tongue finds the warmth of your mouth, drinking you in.Â
His scent is rich and spicy, unmistakably alpha. It makes your omega instincts claw at you, urging you to submit, to bare your neck. You tilt your head, exposing the sensitive skin, and Seungcheol growls low, his lips brushing the pulse point before he nips gently, not enough to mark but enough to make you shudder. Your slick pools between your thighs, the air thick with your arousal, and he groans again, nostrils flaring as he catches the scent.
âFuck,â he growls, burying his face in your neck. It might be the first time youâve heard him curse. âThe sounds you make⌠fuck.â
Seungcheolâs tongue darts out, sweeping against your scent gland. His head snaps up and he frowns, realizing thereâs a scent blocker on your neck. His lip curls like heâs offended, and he gently peels the pad off your neck, soothing the sting as the adhesive tears off with his warm, wet tongue.Â
His tongue directly against your neck nearly makes you catatonic. Your eyes roll back, breath catching as he mouths at you before pressing warm, open-mouthed kisses up and down your neck.Â
âYou smell so fucking good,â he mutters, more to himself than to you.Â
His hand slides down your body, fingers dipping beneath the waistband of your pants. You arch into his touch, a needy whimper escaping as his fingers find your slick-soaked panties. He teases you, fingers circling slowly, pressing the fabric of your underwear into your messy cunt.
âPlease,â you pant.Â
Thereâs that word again. It seems to make him malfunction, makes him bend to your will. He nods, peppering your collarbones with butterfly-light kisses as he pulls your underwear to the side. His fingers drag up and down your cunt and you squeeze your eyes shut. Your arms circle around his neck, clinging to him for dear life, hips canting as he leisurely circles your clit, applying subtle pressure.Â
âFeel okay?â He asks, breathing the words into your ear. His teeth nip at your ear playfully and you gasp, making him chuckle deep in his throat. âDo you want-â
âPlease.âÂ
He kisses your jaw. âGot it.âÂ
Seungcheol presses a finger into your heat, wet and slow, aided by the arousal dripping from your entrance. The stretch is perfect, his fingers curling just right, and you gasp, hips bucking against his hand.Â
You whine, clutching at his shoulders, nails digging into his shirt. He hums in response, pleased at your reaction. He slowly starts to pump his fingers, restricted by the waistband of your sweats. His thumb swirls against your clit and you hurtle toward an orgasm from the barest stimulation, already too worked up, too fucked out on him and his fingers and the hormones.Â
Your body sings under his touch, heat coiling tighter, your omega keening for more, for him, for everything. His lips find yours again, mouths clashing as he slips another finger in, working you open until youâre shaking in his grasp and coming around his fingers. You hear the wet smack of his hand against your pussy, the way his fingers squelch.Â
You donât have the wherewithal to be embarrassed by it. Instead, youâre floating in a fucked out haze, the world dulling. Thereâs just Seungcheolâs lazy tongue in your mouth and the smell of bergamot and cardamom. The weight of him on you feels safe, setting you in a trance.Â
Slowly, he pulls his fingers from you. You make a noise of protest but he hushes you with a gentle kiss. You feel a little more aware as the orgasm subsides, the ache youâd had a few moments ago dulled by the satisfaction. You know itâll get worse and youâll need more, but for now, youâre okay.Â
You open your mouth to give a shy thank you when youâre stopped, entranced by the way Seungcheol brings his fingers, shining with your cum, up to his mouth. Your lips part in shock as he pops them past his lips, sucking generously. He hums, eyelids fluttering shut as he licks them clean.Â
Never had you imagined that, imagined him like this. When he opens his eyes, his pupils are dilated. Starving. Feral.Â
âTaste so fucking good,â He murmurs, leaning down to give you a lingering kiss. You taste yourself on him, different but not unpleasant. âCanât wait to taste you properly later.â That makes you whine and you reach for him, but he smiles and kisses your nose before standing up. You pout and he laughs. âWater. You need water.âÂ
Seungcheol leaves your room but he leaves the door open just in case. You nuzzle into the bed, fisting the jacket heâd given you earlier as you nuzzle into it. You wish the bed smelled more like him. Right now it just smells like you, with bits of Seungcheol laced in.Â
You close your eyes, letting your body melt into the sheets, muscles pleasantly sore and mind hazy with velocetin, a neurochemical that heightens arousal and reduces pain perception during Stage 2 of an omegaâs heat cycle. The room is quiet, save for the distant hum of the AC and the faint creak of the floorboards as Seungcheol moves through the house.
When he comes back, Seungcheol is holding a bottle of water in one hand and something else in the other. A bowl of mac and cheese. He brandishes both proudly before sitting on the bed next to you. You prop yourself up on the pillows, looking at him through your lashes.
"Figured you might need both,â he says.Â
You shake your head. âJust water.â
âYou havenât eaten dinner.â
âDonât wanna.â
He levels a look at you. Switches tactics. âIt would make me feel better if you did,â he urges gently. He puts the water on the nightstand, bowl of mac and cheese in his lap. He reaches out and brushes his fingers along your bottom lip. âPlease.â
That word hangs in the air between you, both a pleasantry and a weapon. You feel the way he means it, the way it would make him feel better if you ate. You nod, sitting up with his careful assistance until youâre leaning against the headboard.Â
Seungcheol stabs some of the pasta and lifts his hand before pausing, realizing he was about to feed you. You both flush, averting his eyes and handing you the bowl awkwardly, you trying not to put it down and jump him at the thought of him wanting to care for you this way.
Instead, you bite into the mac and cheese. Itâs a little salty, but itâs good. You eat the entire bowl in comfortable silence, Seungcheol holding out the bottle of water for you in exchange for your empty dish. You trade and you chug some of the water, letting it keep you cool.
âI guess I didnât realize how much of an appetite I had,â you note, sagging into the pillows. You feel good. Far better than you ever have when dealing with your cycle alone.Â
He grins, cocky and unrepentant. âGuess I fixed that, huh?â
You roll your eyes, but youâre grinning too. âShut up.â
âI could,â he says, climbing back into bed beside you, âbut then I wouldnât get to hear you whine like that.â
You flush at the memory, at the way your body still responds to his voice alone. He notices, of course he does, and his smile softens. One hand finds your waist, tugging you closer until you're nestled against him again.
âTake a nap,â he murmurs, leaning back into the headboard. âYou need rest.âÂ
âWhat about you?â
He smiles softly. âIâm good right where I am.â
-
You wake to the sound of voices. For a moment, you're disoriented, wrapped in sheets that smell faintly like Seungcheol and sweat and a myriad of other scents familiar to you from years of heat cycles. Itâs still dark in your room, only the glow of a neon sign outside slipping through your blinds a source of illumination.Â
You roll over instinctively, reaching for Seungcheol and you freeze. The spot where he was when you had fallen asleep is now vacant. Cold, like he hadnât been there in the last hour.Â
Panic lances through your chest, so painful that it feels like a physical blow. You all but fall out of bed, heart hammering when you realize he left. Heâs gone and youâre alone and you donât know what to do, terror working its way up your throat.Â
Maybe it was a mistake. Maybe everything he said was just talk. You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to silence the rush of doubt, of fear- until you hear it again. Voices. Voices that had woken you up in the first place, momentarily forgotten by a hormone-addled brain and sleep.Â
The door is shut to your room but you reach for it now, cracking it open. Dim light floods through the gap. All the lights in your apartment are off, but the single bulb over your stove is burning, a warm golden glow filtering down the hall.Â
Sticking your head out, you see Seungcheol standing at your door. Itâs mostly closed, just enough for him to block the gap with whoever heâs talking to. His broad back is facing you and you cock your head, puzzled. You can see the tension rippling through him, the way his hackles rise and the rigid way he stands, like heâs barring entry to something important.Â
âYeah, youâve been really helpful,â Seungcheol growls. Thereâs a low, dangerous edge to his voice that youâve never heard before. It sets the hairs on your arm standing.Â
âRelax, man.â You donât recognize the voice on the other side of the door. Itâs playful, distinctly male. âI brought you your shit, didnât I? Youâre acting like I came to steal her.â
Seungcheol bristles. âOut, Soonyoung.âÂ
âOkay, okay,â Soonyoung - whoever that is - says. âMessage received. You donât have to piss on the doormat, Cheol.â
âI just might.â
You canât help the small sound that escapes you, half laugh, half sigh of relief.Â
Seungcheolâs head whips around at the sound, eyes immediately softening when they land on you. âHey,â he says, voice gentler now, but still tight with emotion. âYou should be resting.â
You pad down the hallway toward him. Each step closer makes the fire inside of you return. You feel the throb come back, needing more, subtle but growing. âI thought you left.â
His entire expression changes, and heâs at your side in an instant. âNo. No, baby,â he says, cupping your face with both hands. âI just went to the door. I called Soonyoung for some clothes and stuff. I wasnât leaving. I wouldnât leave you like that.â
Baby. He says it so naturally, so unconsciously, that youâre not even sure he realizes it slipped out. But it hits you like a warm wave, softening every edge of panic still clinging to your chest. Your knees wobble slightly, and he notices. His hands slide from your face to your waist, grounding you there, steady and sure. He pulls you closer, and you melt into him, breathing him in.
Not gone. Not alone. Heâs right here with you, like he said he would.
âSorry. I just panicked.â
âNo, itâs my fault. I should have known youâd wake up.â
A throat clears behind him.Â
You both freeze, and then Seungcheol stiffens, the muscles under your hands tensing like a drawn bowstring. His eyes narrow behind his glasses as he turns his head, keeping you tight against him, chest to chest, like a shield. A low, warning growl rumbles from deep in his throat.
âSoonyoung was just leaving,â Seungcheol asserts.Â
âSoonyoung is leaving, but also says he hopes your cycle goes well!â
Carefully, you peek around Seungcheol to see Soonyoung in the doorway. Heâs standing in the doorway with a duffel slung over his shoulder, unbothered and grinning. His dark hair is long around his ears, and his eyes curve into soft crescents when he smiles. He waves at you, the gesture so sincere it makes you falter, like heâs genuinely happy to see you, even though youâve clearly never met.
âNice to meet you!âÂ
Another warning growl vibrates through Seungcheolâs chest. You feel it more than hear it.
Soonyoung just rolls his eyes. âAlright, alright, relax.â He lifts his hands in mock surrender as he backs away. âLet me know if he starts brooding in corners or being unbearable. Happens when he doesnât get enough attention.â
âBye, Soonyoung,â Seungcheol grits out.Â
Soonyoung flashes one last wink and manages to pull the door shut just before Seungcheol fully turns to kill him. He exhales sharply and mutters something under his breath.
You look up at him, a teasing smile on your lips. âTerritorial much?â
His ears flush instantly, color blooming down to his neck. He chews the inside of his cheek, gaze dropping. âI apologize,â he murmurs, stepping away. âI know Iâve overstepped and-â
âDonât,â you interrupt, reaching to pull him back, hands curling into his sides. âI liked it.â His brows lift, uncertain. You offer a soft smile. âI donât think Iâve seen that side of you before. Youâre usually so calm. Quiet. Kind of unassuming. Not veryâŚâ
âNot very alpha.â
âNot in the way people expect. But thatâs not a bad thing.â He studies you for a moment, searching your expression, and something in his shoulders loosens. âI like the way you are. And the possessivenessâŚâÂ
You shiver and he grins, cockiness returning to you. âYeah?â
âYeah. Definitely.âÂ
His hands slide back to your waist, gripping just a little firmer this time. âYou shouldnât have told me that. Now Iâm not going to be able to stop.â
âI donât want you to. Please.âÂ
Seungcheol forgets all about his bag by the door. He scoops you up in his arms, taking you back to your room. You let out a soft sound, something almost like a purr, keening under him, excitement and arousal flooding you overtime.Â
He notices, groaning when he catches the change in your body chemistry. He places you down on the bed gently, crawling over you, hand skimming up your t-shirt as he does. His fingers are warm and light, playful. You donât want playful, though. You want greedy. Hungry.Â
The buzz of anticipation curls low in your belly, heat blooming under your skin like wildfire. You arch into him instinctively, hips twitching. âDonât play with me,â you breathe, reaching up to fist the fabric at his sides. âPlease.â
Something flickers in his eyes. Recognition, you think. Like he sees the hunger gnawing inside of you and he recognizes it as his own. You want it, want that fire in him. You want to dive in head first and never come up for air. You want him so bad it hurts, a physical pain manifesting between your legs as your thoughts drift away and your instinct takes over.
âPlease,â is all you can whisper.Â
Thatâs all it takes. The control heâs been clinging to snaps like a thread pulled too tight. He crashes his mouth onto yours, swallowing your moan as his body presses down, heavy and solid, every inch of him demanding to be closer. His kiss is nothing like the ones before, this one is rough, consuming, all tongue and teeth and need. His hands slide up your sides, pushing the shirt higher, until the fabric is bunched at your ribs and he can finally touch bare skin.
His palms are searing, dragging up your waist to your ribs, brushing just beneath your breasts before he groans deep in his throat, your scent thick in the air now, laced with heat, need, you.
âYou smell so fucking good,â he growls, mouth trailing hot, wet kisses down your throat. âItâs driving me insane.â
You thread your fingers into his hair, tugging just enough to make him groan again, his hips pressing into yours, and you gasp at the hardness you feel through his pants. Heâs still in his work clothes, though theyâre wrinkled and sweaty and a mess. You tug at them desperately, whining, trying to get them off.Â
He growls again, low and possessive, and then heâs kissing you hard, his body rolling against yours in slow, grinding movements. His thigh slots between yours, pinning you in place, and the friction makes your back arch, chasing more.
âTell me what you want,â he mutters against your mouth, one hand cupping your breast through the thin fabric of your bra, his thumb brushing over your nipple. âIâll give you anything, baby. Anything.â
Thereâs that nickname again. Baby. It sounds sinful on his lips, like heâd do anything for you, like he would give anything for you. It makes you dizzy with gluttonous power and you pant, pulling him as close as you can get him, a button popping on his shirt.Â
âI want you. Now.â
Seungcheolâs eyes darken, pupils blown, and he pulls back just enough to kneel above you. His gaze rakes over you, flushed, trembling. He makes a sound, something pitiful, hands trembling slightly as his fingers work the buttons of his shirt.Â
He shrugs his shirt off, the fabric catching on broad shoulders before it falls, revealing hard planes of his chest, skin flushed with a thin sheen of sweat. His muscles flex when he moves, every line of him radiating strength. Your mouth waters, arousal pooling between your legs, screaming to touch him, to taste him.Â
He doesnât rush, though. His fingers linger on his belt, unbuckling it with deliberate slowness, the clink of metal loud in the charged silence. Your hips shift, impatient. He tuts at you, narrowing his eyes and you still immediately, falling into line, eager to please. His mouth twitches and he drops a hand to give your thigh a squeeze as if to say good job.
It makes you want to pass out.Â
Seungcheol slides his belt free, letting it drop, and when he unbuttons his pants, the sound of his zipper is tortuous. You want him immediately, you want him now, but he seems dead set on doing this at exactly his pace. So you let him, letting the ache peak inside of you, shivering at what you know heâs going to give you.Â
He carefully shoves his pants down, kicking them alongside his briefs in one fell swoop. His cock springs free, thick and heavy, the tip glistening with precum. Your core clenches at the sight, a fresh wave of slick dripping from you, and he groans, nostrils flaring as he catches the scent.
âGod, youâre perfect,â he says, voice low. He peels your sweats down your legs, shaking his head as he goes, overwhelmed by the sheer need for him, to your body's reaction. âFuck.â
He crawls back over you, hands skimming your sides, sliding up to peel your shirt off of you. The air is cold but Seungcheolâs touch is burning you up. He deftly removes your bra, tossing it somewhere behind him. He pauses, eyes locked on you, and the intensity of his gaze makes your breath catch. Itâs like he canât get enough of you, cannot fathom whatâs in front of him.
Seungcheol shakes himself as if from a daze and then his mouth is on you, lips trailing fire down your throat, over your collarbone, until he reaches your breast. He takes a nipple into his mouth, sucking gently, tongue swirling, and you moan, back arching to press closer.
His worship is meticulous, unhurried. He lavishes attention on your other breast, teeth grazing just enough to make you gasp, while his hand slides down, fingers brushing the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. Youâre trembling, omega instincts in overdrive, and when his fingers finally find your slick-soaked folds, you cry out, hips bucking into his touch. He groans against your skin, the sound vibrating through you, and pulls back to look at you, eyes blazing.
âYeah?â He asks, voice scratchy. âSo wet for me.â His fingers tease, spreading your slick, circling your clit with maddening slowness. âAll for me?â
âYes. Yours.â
Hearing you say it makes something snap in him. His pupils dilate, fucked out and filled with an intensity you didnât know was possible. He dips lower, kissing a path down your stomach, nipping at the soft skin above your hips. He settles between your thighs, spreading them wide, and the sight of him there, all broad shoulders, dark eyes, and lips parted, makes your core throb.Â
He doesnât tease this time, reaching up with one hand to rip off his glasses and toss them to the corner of the mattress. He drops down and his mouth finds you, tongue dragging a slow, deliberate line through your folds, and you moan, loud and broken, as he tastes you. Relief floods through you. You feel yourself go boneless, the pain that was ebbing in you a moment ago dulling again as Seungheol leisurely tongues at you, groaning while he does.Â
Seungcheol is relentless, worshipful, every lick and suck a testament to his need to please you. His lips close around your clit, sucking gently, then harder, and you writhe, fingers tangling in his hair, tugging hard. He moans into you, the vibration sending sparks up your spine, and doubles down, tongue flicking with precision, lapping up every drop of slick. His fingers join in, two slipping inside you, curling against that perfect spot, and the stretch, the pressure, is overwhelming.
You gasp, hips grinding against his face, chasing the building heat in your stomach. He hums, pleased, and the sound pushes you closer to the edge. Heâs messy, slick coating his chin, his lips. He doesnât care. He seems drunk on it, one hand pressing your thighs to further open you up, pressing his face further into your cunt to drink you in.Â
His fingers thrust in time with his tongue, every curl and suck calculated to make you unravel. You shiver under him, your limbs unable to keep up, thighs twitching against his hand. It feels maddening, better than anything youâve ever felt up until this point.Â
Your orgasm hits like a tidal wave, dragging you under until youâre gasping for air. Your thighs clamp around his head and he lets you. He laps at your entrance as it drips, drawing out every shudder, every pulse, until youâre whimpering and overstimulated.Â
Even overstimulated, you want more. Need more.Â
Seungcheol pulls back, lips glistening, eyes wild. He pulls his fingers from you and crawls up to kiss you, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. The kiss is filthy, desperate, and you moan into it, pulling him closer.Â
âNeed you,â you gasp, hands roaming his back, feeling the muscles flex under your fingertips, your nails cramping. âNeed you inside of me. Please.â
He nods, unable to respond. He lowers his waist and drops a hand down to peel your thighs open. You feel how wet and messy you are but you donât care. Seungcheol seems to appreciate it, swearing when he looks between your bodies to fist his heavy cock and line himself up with your entrance.Â
The anticipation makes you tremble. He pushes in slowly, stretching you inch by inch, and you both groan, the sensation overwhelming. Heâs big, filling you completely, and your walls flutter around him, slick easing the way.
âFuck,â he grits out, dropping his forhead against yours. âFuck fuck fuck fuck.â
Seungcheol fights to keep still, fights to let you adjust around him. Youâre stretched tight, gripping him like a vice, your breathing hitched as you struggle yourself, near ready to come from just this alone.Â
You manage to hang on, tangling your fingers in the damp hair at the base of his neck. You need more - always more. You start rocking your hips, urging him deeper. It feels so good you see spots in your vision. He moans and thrusts hard on instinct, bottoming out.Â
The pace builds, his hips snapping, each thrust precise and deep, hitting that spot that makes you see stars. The pressure builds so fast you barely register it, chasing your high and whatever heâll give you, your omega instincts screaming for it.Â
He can tell. He quickens his pace, trying to get you there faster. It does the trick, because you come around him without warning. You pulse around him and he slows down, grinding his hips against you, letting you gush around him until your shaking subsides.Â
Seungcheol is still rock hard, cock throbbing. Your forehead rests against his forearm, Seungcheol leaning over you, caging you in.
âCan you take more?â You nod but he shakes his head, nosing your temple. âYou have to verbally tell me.â
âCan take more.â
âPromise?â
âYes.â
He kisses your temple and picks his pace back up.Â
Itâs slower, but more defined. Deep. Seungcheolâs stroke is slow and deliberate, one of his hands slipping under your thigh to hike it up around his waist. That makes you whine, high-pitched and he loves it, mouth catching yours, drinking in all the sounds you make.Â
Youâre close again, the pleasure building faster now, amplified by the way he watches you, eyes never leaving your face, like heâs memorizing every gasp, every moan. His hand slips between you, fingers finding your clit, still swollen from his mouth, and he rubs tight, relentless circles.
âWant you to come again,â he murmurs, voice raw. Thereâs a bit of a command in his voice, laced with something you swear is devotion. âWanna feel you, baby. Give it to me.âÂ
His words and the relentless drive of his cock are too much. You whimper, nails digging into his back and he leans down, lips brushing against your neck. Not biting - thatâs far too advanced for whatever this is - and his fingers press harder, circling faster.
The coil in your belly snaps and your second orgasm crashes through you, sharper and more intense. Your body locks around him, walls pulsing as you come again. He groans, low and guttural, pleased by the way you clench around him. But he doesnât stop, fucking you through it.Â
Youâre shaking and oversensitive, but heâs not done. His thrusts are slow and deliberate, keeping you tethered.Â
âSo good for me,â he praises, kissing your sweaty forehead. âSo fucking perfect. You did so good.â
The praise makes your omega sing, and you cling to him, breathless, as he chases his own release. His hips stutter, breaths growing ragged, and with a final, deep thrust, he comes, spilling inside of you. He groans, dropping his forehead against you, shaking in your arms as he comes down from his high.Â
Finally, he collapses over you, careful not to crush you. You stay like that, a pile of tangled limbs, panting. His lips find your neck, kissing softly, soothing spots heâd nipped.Â
âYou okay?â He croaks, voice hoarse with disuse.
Youâre only slightly coherent, somewhere stuck between a dreamlike space where your omega is satiated and reality. âYeah,â you whisper. âGood.â
âIâm gonna grab water, okay? Iâll only be gone for a second. Just gonna get water and then we can sleep for a little.âÂ
âMhmm.â
Seungcheol is hesitant this time when he gets up, no doubt worried about what happened the last time you thought he left. This time, youâre too out of it to really register how long it takes him to get water. One moment heâs out the door and the next the bed is dipping under his weight as he cradles your head to feed you water.
Itâs cool and you come back to life a little, opening your eyes as you gulp, greedy. He admonishes you to be careful not to choke, tilting the glass so that the water isnât gushing into your mouth. When you drain the glass, he smiles and kisses you.Â
âGood,â he hums, happy. That makes you beam at him, thrilled that heâs pleased. âMore?â
You shake your head. âTired.â
âOkay. Let me change the sheets - donât move. Iâll work around you, okay?â
Somehow, he manages to. With a careful series of rolling you to the side and lifting you to slide new sheets under you, Seungcheol executes an impressive sheet change without really bothering you. He disappears once more to throw the spent sheets in the wash.Â
Upon his return, youâre barely awake. You reach for him anyway, buried somewhere underneath piles of blankets that smell like him. Finally.Â
Seungcheol lets you pull him into bed, sliding across the mattress until youâre flush chest to chest, the beating of his heart against yours. He smells good. Content. Happy. Your eyes blink heavily as you breathe him in, all pain forgotten.
âSleep,â he mumbles, just as tired. âIâm not going anywhere.âÂ
-
When you wake up again, youâre not really sure what time it is. All you know is that there is orange light burning through your blinds, something like late afternoon. More important, thereâs an ache between your legs and thereâs sweat on the back of your neck, already restless from whatever dream had woken you up.
The room is quiet, save for the soft rhythm of your breathing and Seungcheolâs steady exhales beside you. His arm is draped loosely over your waist. His scent is warm and spicy, grounding you. But beneath that cool calm his presence brings is a restless heat simmering, starting in your core and spreading to your limbs.
You try to ignore it, shutting your eyes and willing yourself back to sleep. It doesnât go away, an ache growing in its place. A whine slips through your lips, despite your best efforts. The sound is small, but piercing through the stillness and before you can tamp down on it, Seungcheol is stirring, arm tightening briefly before heâs hooking a chin over your shoulder.Â
âWhatâs the matter, baby?â He asks, voice low and rough with sleep. âYou okay?â
His fingers brush back and forth across your waist. Itâs supposed to be soothing but itâs almost maddening.Â
âFeel hot. Need you.â
Seungcheol presses a kiss to the back of your shoulder. You feel the curve of his smile. âIâve got you.â
He moves slowly, peeling the sheets back. His hands are reverent, skimming your thighs and parting them as he settles between them. The air feels electric, every brush of his skin against yours sending sparks through you.
Like always, Seungcheol takes his time. His lips start at your knee, kissing softly, then trailing higher, nipping the sensitive flesh of your inner thigh. You whimper, hips twitching, needy and desperate, and he hums, pleased.Â
âSo needy,â he teases. Youâre not embarrassed this time, knowing that with him, thereâs nothing to be worried about.Â
He spreads your legs wider, exposing your warm, wet core. He bites his lower lip, teeth digging into the flesh as he groans, like heâs trying to fight himself on diving in and taking what he wants versus giving you what you need.Â
The first pass of Seungcheolâs tongue is slow and deliberate, a long, slow-soft drag through your folds that makes you gasp, hands fisting the sheets. He hums, the vibration making you twitch. His lips close gently around your clit, giving an experimental suck. You cry out and he grins, dragging his tongue to dip back down to your entrance for a taste.
Seungcheol is relentless, his mouth working you with a devotion that borders on obsession. His tongue traces every inch of you, slow and thorough, lapping up your slick like itâs the sweetest thing heâs ever tasted. He alternates between broad, languid strokes and precise flicks, learning your reactions, lingering where you tremble most. His hands grip your thighs, keeping you open, grounding you as you writhe, the slick coating his chin and lips only spurring him on.
âFuck,â he mutters, pulling away for a second. He leans over your cunt and lets a string of spit and cum drip from his swollen mouth to your cunt before chasing it with his tongue. âI could stay here forever.â
He dives back in, tongue pressing into you, fucking you with slow, shallow thrusts of his mouth. Your moans are broken, and he takes it as encouragement, running his tongue in lazy circles, tasting all of you. Just as you start to near a soft high, his fingers join in, pressing in gently, making your vision blurry.Â
The first orgasm builds fast, your body already primed from the restless heat of your sleep. His fingers pump in time with his tongue, relentless, and when he sucks hard on your clit, you shatter. A cry tears from your throat, hips bucking against his face as slick gushes, your walls clenching around his fingers. He doesnât stop, lapping through your tremors, drawing out every pulse until youâre shaking, oversensitive, whimpering his name.
âOne more, baby,â he murmurs, voice thick. âYou can give me one more.â
You can. He knows it. You know it.
His mouth softens, less intense but no less thorough, kissing your folds gently before returning to your clit with slow, teasing licks. Your body protests, too sensitive, but the heat is already building again, coaxed by his worshipful attention. Heâs patient, methodical, every movement calculated to keep you on the edge without overwhelming you. His fingers slide back in, slower this time, curling lazily, and you feel the stretch, the fullness.
Your second orgasm creeps up, slower but deeper, a steady wave that builds as he works you with unwavering focus. His tongue flicks faster, lips sealing around your clit, and when he hums, the vibration tips you over. You come with a sob, less sharp but more intense, your whole body trembling as pleasure rolls through you, slick coating his hand, his mouth. He laps at you softly, easing you through it, until youâre boneless, panting, your omega sated.
Seungcheolâs kisses turn languid, worshipping, cleaning up the mess he made, savouring every drop. Your hands loosen in the sheets and he finally pulls back, crawling back up to the bed, pressing scattered, wet kisses up your body as he does.Â
âBetter?â He asks when he reaches your face, nose brushing against yours.Â
âThank you.â
He smiles, dimples flashing, and settles beside you, pulling you into his chest. His scent surrounds you, grounding, and you feel the bond pulse, warm and steady.
âRest a little. Then weâll shower.â
-
The shower fills with steam and the scent of eucalyptus. Fog covers the shower door as hot water runs over you and Seungcheol. His broad frame stands behind you, hands gentle but firm as he massages shampoo into your hair, working slow circles into your scalp. You lean into his touch, eyes fluttering closed.Â
If only for a moment, itâs perfect. Almost too perfect, which makes your chest tighten with a quiet ache. This is just Seungcheol helping you through your heat, a temporary balm for a fire that will ultimately flare again.
You donât know how you ever did this without him before. Donât know how youâre going to manage to do it without him in the future. After just a day, Seungcheol has flipped your scope of the world upside down, changing your heat cycle entirely.Â
Typically, itâs days of foggy suffering with suppressants to numb you. Itâs a listlessness that chases you for days until your hormones are right again, until you can feel the sun on your face and let it make you smile.Â
Now, you donât know what itâs supposed to be.Â
You turn to face Seungcheol. Water is streaming down his chest, catching the sculpted lines of his front. Each droplet clings to him in a way you understand - you want to cling to him too.
Seungcheol is breathtaking, all strength and quiet care. Itâs a wonder that someone so powerful can also be so gentle. Heâs unlike anything you expected, and breaks the norms of what you thought having an alpha help you through your heat might be like.
You donât fool yourself into thinking thereâs anyone else like him. You already know that this is just him, just Seungcheol. It makes a flicker of fear come to life in your chest, wondering what will happen when your heat fades and the intimacy here dissolves like the water flowing down the drain.Â
You push the thought down. Gliding your hands over his chest, your fingers chase the droplets of water, feeling the steady pulse of his heart beneath your palm. It makes you ache with need again, an always there need for him coming back to life.
Heat cycles are like that. Theyâre made up of peaks and lows, moments where the need is so high it drives you insane followed by a near catatonic need to drift and sleep.Â
Now, youâre approaching another peak, pulse picking up, body thrumming.
Seungcheol senses the shift immediately. Heâs attuned to you quickly, but you refuse to let yourself wonder what that means. He steps closer, hands pulling at your waist, dipping his head to brush his mouth against yours in an almost kiss.Â
His eyes darken with a mix of concern and something darker. âWhatâs that look?â
He steps closer, pressing you against the tiled wall, water pooling where your bodies meet. The warmth of him, the slickness of his skin, feels like a dream youâre terrified to wake from. You donât answer, canât. Your hands dip lower, tracing the hard ridge of his abdomen, and he tenses, breath catching.Â
âBaby,â he warns, voice rough. Thereâs no real protest there. Just a playful warning, edged with want.Â
The endearment hits you like a spark, igniting you. You canât get enough of it when he calls you that, when he says it velvet-soft and purring, when he says it like you are his baby. His world. His omega.
You sink to your knees, tiles cold and wet beneath you. You look up at him through wet lashes, biting your lower lip, hesitant, wanting permission. His cock is already hard - has been the entire time youâve been in the shower - and the sight pulls a whine from your throat. You want to taste him. Want to make him feel good.Â
âPlease,â you ask, still unmoving, hands resting on your thighs.
The way he looks at you - everent, undone - makes you feel like youâre everything, even if part of you whispers that this is just your heat talking, just his alpha responding to your need.
Seungcheol nods. He places one hand to brace against the wall as you lean in to press soft kisses to the base of his shaft, lips brushing his warm skin. He groans, the sound deep and raw, and it sends a tremble of excitement through you.Â
Your tongue traces the underside of his cock, following a thick vein from base to tip. You swirl your tongue greedily around the crown of his cock, tasting the faint salt of him. Itâs intoxicating, perfect, and you let yourself sink into it, humming pleasantly.Â
One of his hands comes down to rest on top of your head, not pulling, not pushing, just anchoring himself as you take him into your mouth. You go slow, savoring the weight of him. Heâs big, stretching your mouth painfully to the limit, but you relax, breathing in through your nose.Â
âShit,â he hisses. âShit fuck. That mouth.â
The praise makes your omega preen. You hum again, the vibration making his hips twitch as you build a steady rhythm, head bobbing, tongue working the underside of his cock while your hand wraps around the base, stroking in sync.Â
Water rains down on you, making everything fluid. Your lips glide effortlessly around him, your grip on him firm, squeezing gently as your hand meets your mouth on the upstroke. His groans grow louder, more desperate, hips twitching but never taking control of your pace. His fingers tighten on your head, and yet he remains in control of himself, letting you take what you want.Â
âFuuuck, just like that,â He pants, head tipping back. Water falls down his throat in rivulets. The sight of him, vulnerable and unraveling, makes your pussy throb, a wave of arousal running down your thighs and mixing with the water.Â
You take him in deeper until your nose brushes his pelvis, swallowing around him. He makes a broken sound, half growl, half moan, and his hips finally jerk. You welcome his shallow thrusts eagerly, moaning around him, encouraging him.
Seungcheol looks down, eyes locking with yours. His are fucked out and fazed, the raw edge to his gaze making your heart beat faster. You pull back a little, focusing on the tip, sucking hard, tongue swirling. Your hand pumps faster and his breathing turns ragged, muscles in his stomach twitching. You know heâs close and it makes you grin up at him, mouth full of spit and precum.
âGonna - fuck - come,â he warns, voice strained.Â
You donât pull away. You suck at him harder, desperate to give him this, to hold onto this perfect moment. With a guttural sound, he spills into your mouth. You swallow down every drop, lips sealed until heâs over sensitive and shying away from your mouth.Â
Easing back, you look up at him, your knees aching. He pulls you to your feet and to his lips, pressing you into a kiss thatâs deep and messy, tasting himself on your tongue. He licks into you, uncaring as he pulls you close to his chest.Â
âSo good,â he murmurs between kisses. âSuch a sweet girl for me.âÂ
You grin as he turns you around, walking you forward so that you're pressed against the warm tile of the shower wall. âMy turn.â
-
Soft, neon light filters in from your window, washing your room in a smear of watercolor. You fidget in bed, body coming alive, arousal starting in gentle waves, building the more your body catches up. Seungcheol is already awake beside you, sensing your need. His warmth is a quiet anchor.
Seungcheolâs lips brush your neck, nuzzling and scenting, his gentle possessiveness soothing your omega. You let out a soft sigh, going pliant for him. He hums, pleased at your easy submission, tongue darting out to lick your neck playfully.Â
Heâs tender, peppering your shoulder and neck with soft, wet kisses. Each one stokes the steady fire in your core and chest. The way he handles you is maddening, like youâre spun glass but he knows you can take whatever he gives you. Your omega preens and you shift closer, feeling the heat of him against you.Â
This is different from earlier. At this point, youâve lost count of how many times youâve done this. Youâve lost track of time and the days. Thereâs just this: Seungcheolâs hand sliding down to lift your leg up for him, the thick head of his cock nudging your entrance, weeping and wanting for him.Â
Then he slides in, slow and stretching you inch by inch, earning a dreamy exhale from your trembling lips. He grinds his hips against the curve of your ass, deep and languid, easing the ache between your legs. His strokes are measured and intimate, each one dragging against your walls, stoking the flames without rushing.Â
You moan, breathy, as your slick coats his cock, the wet sounds of your bodies obscene in the silence of the room. His hand slides up, cupping your chest, thumb brushing back and forth over your nipple until it pebbles under his rapt attention. You arch into his touch, whimpering.Â
âSo good for me,â he murmurs against your neck. His voice is rough with sleep, just how you like it.Â
Seungcheol keeps the pace slow, hips rolling lazily. It builds a steady burn. His lips find the pulse point below your ear, sucking gently, not enough to make tender, but enough to make you shiver, cunt leaking down your thighs.
You reach back, fingers sliding in his hair to tug softly. He groans, low and raspy, the sound sending a fresh wave of arousal through you.Â
âSeungcheol,â you breathe, voice barely a whisper. âCheol.âÂ
He hums, pleased at the nickname. He grinds deeper, the friction perfect and overwhelming as the tip of his cock brushes against the soft spot inside of you, making you unwind.Â
Your eyes flutter open and you peer over your shoulder at him. The neon light catches the sweat on his skin, making him glow. You marvel at how beautiful he is, a powerful alpha, yours in this moment. Maybe not later, but you donât think about that now, trembling as he brings you close to your orgasm like heâs done every time before.
His hand slips between your thighs, fingers seeking your clit, slick and swollen. He starts to circle the throbbing bud with agonizing slowness, matching the rhythm of his thrusts. The sensation is devastating, punching the breath from your lungs. You rock your hips to meet his, desperate for your undoing, needing to come.Â
âCome on,â he urges, lips brushing your ear. He presses his fingers hard, circles them faster. Your breath catches and he feels it, deepening his thrusts, becoming more deliberate. âCome for me, baby.âÂ
The words mixed with the intoxicating feeling of his cock makes you shatter, a soft cry spilling out of your lips as your pussy pulse around him, soaking him thoroughly. He groans, fucking you through it, slow and steady, drawing out the full length of your orgasm until youâre boneless and barely there.Â
But heâs not done. Seungcheol eases out carefully and shifts you onto your back. You blink, starry eyed and warm as you watch him slide down the bed and settle between your legs. Your thighs fall open at the sight of him and he groans, pleased at how you immediately know what he wants, ready to comply with your alpha.
No. Not your alpha. But he is right now and thatâs all that matters.
Any fight on that subject vanishes as he kisses the soft skin of your inner thighs. His eyes are dark and burning when he looks up at you, pupils wide.Â
âNeed to taste you,â he murmurs, mostly to himself.Â
Then, his mouth is one you, tongue dragging through your folds, lapping at the mess left over from your orgasm. Itâs filthy, the way he moans into you, lips and chin glistening as he buries his face in your cunt. But itâs gentle, his tongue slow and worshipful, circling your clit.
Itâs soothing, the way he moves, tongue tracing lazy patterns, circling your clit with no pressure, just presence. His hands rest on your hips, thumbs stroking the sensitive skin there, grounding you further. Your fingers find his hair, threading loosely, not pulling, just holding, and he groans softly, the sound muffled against you. The ache in your core softens, not gone but eased, replaced by a warm, liquid comfort that spreads through your limbs.
Seungcheol mouths at you with no purpose other than to soothe and because he can. He doesnât seem focused on getting you off, isnât trying to overstimulate you. It builds a soft glow anyway, your breathing hitching as he keeps going, tongue dipping lower to taste your entrance, letting you drift toward the edge without pushing you toward it.Â
âTaste so good,â Seungcheol mumbles, mouth full of you.Â
This time, your orgasm comes like a tide, not crashing but rising, warm and steady. You whimper, hips shifting and he holds you steady, one hand sliding up to lace his fingers with yours. You squeeze his hand tight, letting him keep you tethered as you come undone, throbbing softly. He drinks you in, tongue lapping and slow, easing you until youâre limp and sated, the ache finally gone.Â
Seungcheol pulls back, mouth glistening neon in the low light. His eyes are heavy with something that you canât read. When he crawls back up, you realize heâs come untouched, spilling his own release while getting you off. It makes your chest tighten, instincts purring at the proof of his want, his devotion to you.Â
He slides in beside you, kissing your temple before pulling you close.Â
âBetter?â He rumbles, already half asleep.
âBetter.â
-
âYou have to eat.â
You huff. âDonât want.âÂ
Youâre curled up on the couch in one of his jackets, inhaling deeply. His scent makes you tired, limbs heavy. You tuck your knees to your chest, wrapping your arms around them to make yourself small. The blanket over your shoulders is warm and smells like him, making you sink further into the cushions.Â
Across the room, Seungcheol watches with thinly veiled amusement. He holds a steaming bowl in one hand, a spoon in the other. You love him like this, hair fluffy and still damp from a shower, glasses pushed high on the bridge of his nose as he glares at you.
âYou need to eat,â he repeats gently. It has to be the third or fourth time heâs said it, each time just as gentle as the last.Â
You grumble and turn away from him, hiding in your blankets. He sighs and pads over to you, dressed in nothing but sweatpants. Shirtless Seungcheol is a weapon in itself, but the way you smell him immediately, can tell heâs using pheromones against you, makes you growl at him. Thereâs no heat in it and he laughs.Â
âYeah?â He teases. âGonna growl at me?â
âIâm tired.â
âI know,â he coos, voice dropping into that low, soft register that always seems to settle you. âYour body is working hard. But you still need to eat something, baby. For me.â
âMeh.â
âIâll feed you.â
That sparks your interest. You peek out from your blankets with one eye, peering at him. He smiles, dimples appearing when he sees heâs got you listening now. His scent wraps around you, luring you deeper into his spell.
âWhat if I say no?â
âThen Iâll start pouting. I donât care if Iâm an alpha, Iâm good at pouting.â
You canât help the small laugh that escapes you. The image of him pouting is sweet. His smile grows, triumphant as he stands up to sit next to you on the couch. You sit up, squirming toward him.Â
âThere she is,â he hums, happy. âOpen up that pretty mouth for me.â
-
Blue light flickers from the TV while golden light of the afternoon sun washes the room, peeking through the blinds. Youâre curled into Seungcheolâs side, his arm around your shoulders and your legs tangled together beneath the shared blanket. Jurassic Park plays quietly in the background because you asked for something familiar, something comforting.Â
Your heat is finally starting to fade, edging toward Stage 3. The decline leaves you exhausted, but the full haze of Stage 2 is lifting, leaving you with less thoughts of tangled bodies and tongues. You can feel it in the way your body no longer aches with desperation, clarity seeping in like a slow tide.
With the clarity comes unease. Because⌠Well, what now?Â
Neither of you have brought it up, the what happens next. Everything still feels good, but it also feels fragile, like youâre balancing in the quiet moment between inhale and exhale, waiting for the next breath to shatter whatever this little bubble youâre in.Â
Your fingers fidget lightly against his chest. He notices, as he always does, and his hand smooths down your arm in slow, comforting passes. You lean into him instinctively - you donât know how you will ever unlearn this - basking in his warmth.Â
But your thoughts keep spinning.Â
You donât know how to voice the big question, donât know how to talk about it. Donât know what the best approach is. So you pretend it isnât there, staring at the TV screen with unseeing eyes, thoughts burning you from the inside out.Â
Seungcheol senses it anyway.Â
âWhatâs up?â He asks, lips pressed against the top of your head. His eyes are still on the screen, the movie reflected in the lense of his glasses. Â
âDid you know the stegosaurus had brains the size of walnuts?â You ask suddenly, eyes fixed. âBuilt like a bus with a very small brain. It was like two ounces.â
âReally?â
You nod, grateful he doesnât question why youâre talking about dinosaurs again. âYep. For years people thought they had a second brain somewhere near the anus.â
âI beg your pardon?â
âIâm serious. Thereâs an enlarged area near their hips and early scientists thought it must have been for a second brain because they couldnât believe something with so much mass could operate with such a small brain. Turns out it wasnât an ass-brain.â
He huffs. âAss-brain would have been cool.â
âRight? I always hated that people thought they were docile too. They literally have massive spiked tails as a built in morning star and could beat predators' asses. People need to put respect on them.â
âHmm. Sounds like weâre talking about more than dinosaurs here.âÂ
You go quiet. Your eyes flick toward the screen, but youâre not really seeing it. Heâs not wrong. You chew your bottom lip, fingers playing with the edge of the blanket.Â
Of course it isnât just about dinosaurs. Youâve always admired creatures like that, misunderstood, underestimated. Not flashy, not predators, not something people are afraid of on instinct, but fierce all the same. Stubborn. Ready to dig their heels in and fight if they had to.Â
Which is why you liked the stegosaur. You resonated with that. Maybe not the smartest or the strongest, but never easy to push over, always ready to bare teeth when push came to shove. It was why you liked working for Jeonghan, too, seeing a lot of that fight in him.Â
Which brings you back to thinking about work, and that tomorrow is a new work day, and your heat will most likely be fully complete. And youâll have to go back to⌠normal?
You donât know.
âWhy are you so nervous?â Seungcheol asks, bringing you out of your reverie. You look at him, eyes wide. He gives you a soft smile. âWhat, think I didnât notice?âÂ
You hesitate. His face is open. Honest. Heâs giving you no reason to hold back, no reason to hide from him. But what you have to say is scary.Â
You take a deep breath and think about the stegosaurus. âBecause my heat is fading. And I know things felt intense and - to me - special. I just⌠what happens after?â
âWhat do you mean?â
Tears prick your eyes and you curse your hormones for making you emotional. âWhen my heat is over, what then? We go back to normal? Iâm⌠I donât know. Having a heat partner is new to me, and Iâm not begging you to stay or make you feel bad, I just-â
âHey,â he interrupts, catching your face in his hands. His eyes are round, gentle. âIâm going to be honest, nothing is changing for me when your heat is over.âÂ
You blink in surprise. See nervousness flicker across his face when he says carefully, âI stayed because I wanted to help you. I - look, I was already a little soft for you. Now that Iâm here, I like being with you, heat or no. Even when youâre talking about dinosaur ass-brains.âÂ
That makes you laugh and his smile lights up the room. âReally?â
âReally, baby.âÂ
His thumb brushes across your cheek, catching a single salty tear. âUnless you donât want-â
âI want,â you insist. âI want so much. I have never wanted this much in my life.â
âThen Iâll stay. Iâm yours.â
âEven if I start talking about ass-brains?â
âEven then.âÂ
The air in the room shifts, charged with something warm and unspoken. You move without thinking, surging forward and climbing into his lap where he sits on the couch. The soft fabric of his shirt brushes your thighs as you straddle him, your hands settling on his shoulders. He feels solid and warm beneath you.
Seungcheolâs hands find your hips, pulling you closer. Your forehead rests against his, breathes mingling, and for a second, you just stay there. Savoring the intimacy. Savoring his scent, bergamot and cardamom.Â
âYouâre sure?â You ask, voice small.
âVery sure.â
His hands slip upward, slow, under the hem of his hoodie. His fingers graze the sensitive skin of your waist, making you shiver as heat pools low between your legs. You lean in and kiss him softly, lips brushing, then pressing, slow and deliberate.Â
You deepen the kiss, unhurried. His tongue traces the seam of your lips, tasting you, opening you up. You shift, grinding down on him gently, feeling the hardening length of him through his sweats. He makes a sound, soft and low, and it buzzes through your mouth. You feel yourself grow wet against your underwear and he sucks in a sharp breath, catching it.Â
âYeah?â He mumbles against your mouth, pulling back just enough to look at you. His eyes are fathomless but warm. His hands push the hoodie up and over your head, baring your chest to him. His eyes flicker and he curses. âYouâre so perfect.â
You flush, shy under his gaze. His lips find your collarbone, kissing softly before drifting lower, trailing wet, open-mouthed kisses down the curve of your breast. Your head falls back as the cool air hits you, your eyes closed.Â
He takes a nipple into his wanting mouth, tongue swirling, sucking gently. You gasp, hips rocking instinctively, grinding harder against him. The friction is delicious. He groans against your skin, sending sparks through you.Â
Seungcheolâs hands stay on your hips, encouraging your slow, rolling movements. He doesnât rush you. Doesnât push. Itâs soft, the couch slightly creaking under the weight of you.Â
His mouth moves to the swell of your other break, lavishing it with the same care. His teeth graze just enough to make you whimper, your fingers tangling in his hair, holding him close. You feel slick drip down your thighs, not as heavily as before, but still just as ready for him.Â
âCheol,â you breath, voice shaky.Â
He hums, lips sealed around your nipple. The wet buzz of his mouth makes you grind on him faster, chasing the heat in your belly.Â
Seungcheol pulls back just enough to look up at you, eyes glassy. âLove watching you like this. Love feeling you. Want you like this.â
He pulls back just enough to tug at his sweatpants, shoving them down his thighs, his cock springing free, thick and heavy, the tip already glistening. You bite your lip, the sight making your core clench, and he catches the look, a soft smirk tugging at his mouth.
Carefully, he helps you kick your sweatpants off. You sit back in his lap, not bothering with your underwear. He pushes them to the side with a careful finger, his knuckle deliberately dragging over the wet heat of your pussy.Â
âFuck. Wet.â
You nod as he grabs the base of his cock, helping you sit high on your knees. He rubs the rib through your messy folds, both of you moaning in unison before the head catches your entrance and sticks. You sink down, taking him slowly, the stretch punching the breath from your lungs.Â
His shirt stays on, bunched where you fist it against his chest. It is work, sitting on him fully. You feel him deep in your stomach, your breath turning ragged. You savor the fullness, hands tangled in his shirt.Â
Taking a deep breath, you start to move. His hands grip your hips, not controlling but encouraging, letting you set whatever pace you want. His cock drags against your walls, smooth and fluid. His lips find your chest, mouthing at a nipple, sucking gently.Â
Your nails dig into him through the fabric of his shirt, the wet heet of his mouth, the press of his cock, all of it driving you mad, sticky with sweat as you continue to use him however you want.Â
He lets you, content to suck and mouth at your chest all the while. The couch creaks faintly, a quiet underscore to the soft filth of it all, your slick coating him, dripping down to soak his sweatpants, the way his shirt clings to his sweat-damp chest.
Pleasure builds, slow and warm, a glow that starts in your core and spreads. You grind deeper, chasing it, and he groans, head tipping back, eyes half-lidded but never leaving you.
âHow could I ever wanna leave this?â He asks. âHow could I ever want anything but the perfect omega?â
The words, the way he says them, tip you over, and your orgasm comes soft but deep, a gentle pulse that has you trembling, walls clenching around him, a quiet moan spilling from your lips.
The way you tighten pushes him to the edge, and he groans, low and broken, thrusting up once, twice, before he comes, hot and thick inside you. His hands grip you tighter, pulling you close, and you collapse against him, panting, forehead pressed to his, the fabric of his shirt sticking to your skin.
âMine,â he assures you, giving you a gentle kiss. âAss-brain and all.â
âPlease,â you laugh.Â
That single word makes him melt, makes him all soft at the edges. âAnything for you, baby.âÂ
-
The office feels noticeably cooler when you return, the hum of the air conditioning a welcome sound after days away. Cold air brushes the back of your neck as you step off the elevator, a stark contrast to the lingering warmth on your skin, not from the building, but from Seungcheol following close behind you.
Seungcheolâs presence is unmistakable. And people notice.
Jeonghan is the first. Heâs perched near Wonwooâs cubicle, half-lounging on the edge when he glances up and spots you. His gaze flicks from you to Seungcheol, then back again. His eyes widen. A slow grin spreads across his face, and he immediately points a finger.
âYou-â
âNot a word,â Seungcheol warns, voice low as he slides a steadying hand to the small of your back and gently guides you toward your desk. Your cheeks heat, teeth sinking into your cheek to suppress a laugh as Jeonghan starts bouncing on the balls of his feet.
âWeâre just walking, Jeonghan,â you mumble, feeling anything but casual.
âYouâre glowing!â
Wonwoo straightens in his chair, peering over his cubicle wall. His brow lifts as he spots Seungcheol casting a warning glance back at Jeonghan, lips curled into something between a snarl and a smirk.
âI knew it,â Jeonghan asserts, looking at you and nodding. âHeâs always thought you were the cutest omega. Does he know youâre obsessed with dinosaurs yet?â
âUgh, Jeonghan.â
âYes,â Seungcheol confirms with a flat grin. âYou remind me of a Stegosaur, Jeonghan. Very⌠you have similar brains.âÂ
You snort before slapping your hand over your mouth in horror.
Jeonghan saints at him. âI donât get it.â
Seungcheol ignores him, turning to you instead. He brushes his fingers against your arm, and his gaze softens instantly, all gruffness melted into something warm and fond. âIâll see you later, okay?â
You nod, smiling despite yourself as he walks away calm. Sure. Unmistakably yours.
For decades, the Choi family has dominated the underground trade and criminal enterprise of Korea, and largely, Seoul. But the Choi sons start dying, until all thatâs left of the empire falls to Seungcheol, the last Choi son. There is a new competitor rising to take over his territory, and Seungcheol is desperate to do anything to keep his dying empire alive.
Biting and mating with his competitorâs sister, a sheltered, treasured omega, might just be the drastic measure he has to take to keep his hold.
pairing: alpha!choi seungcheol x omega!reader
genre: omegaverse, mafia au
category: limited series
word count: 44,100
warnings: a/b/o dynamics and secondary gender discrimination, mentions of emotional/mental abuse, DUBCON elements (read at your own risk), kidnapping, imprisonment, violence, blood and character death, mention of guns and knives, lots of svt members featured but not all of them are good guys, keep that in mind, manipulation, betrayal, boy x boy, thereâs some doomed yaoi in here idk how that happened tbh, angst, slightly slow burn, smut, nsfw, heats and ruts, unprotected sex, proper smut tags in relevant chapters.
a/n: so here it is, alpha cheol fic as promised! special, special thank you to my lovely @milk-moonbunnies for reading this for me and encouraging me to keep writing it, I am so grateful for your push amani xx thereâs some dark shit happening here so pls be warned, but overall i love how this goes and i loved writing it, especially bec some characters are straight assholes with no redemption ă I hope everyone likes this! all updates will be at 1pm GMT, just letting yâall know xx
synopsis: once every month, your boyfriend disappears for a week. radio silence, no calls, no texts. where does he go? and why is he so adamant on not letting you find out?
word count: 5.5k
warnings: fem!reader, swearing, some werewolf lore, smut, nsfw, unprotected sex, lots of mentions of bodily fluids, multiple orgasms, ruts and knotting, this is lowkey omegaverse donât come for me, there are things happening here that are anatomically not possible, reader is horny and it makes her stupid
a/n: hello i am back again. this is kinda crack fic-ey in some places LMFAOOOOO but ykw who cares fanfiction isnât supposed to be realistic anyway
kinktober 2025 masterlist
âI think you need to confront him.â
âWith what? I have no evidence except my crazy, paranoid brain.â
An eyebrow raise, an incredulous look from your friend.
âIâm sure being gone for a week every month counts as evidence.â
You donât answer, only pursing your lips in reply. You stare at your glass, still almost completely full as compared to Seungkwanâs, who has already downed one and is on his second. He isnât drunk, of course. Not off one beer. So you canât say his suggestion is coming from a place of intoxication. In any case, heâs right. Going off the radar monthly for a week is suspicious. Especially when itâs every month like clockwork, and especially because itâs your boyfriend doing it.
âMaybe his period is really bad.â Seungkwan jokes. You roll your eyes and finally take a sip of your drink. Seungkwan appraises you for a few moments, observing the troubled look on your face before sighing.
âYou canât keep going like this, Y/N.â His voice is more gentle now. âYouâve been seeing him for nearly half a year now. You deserve to know what heâs hiding from you.â
You shake your head. âI know him. Heâs not a liar. Heâs not a bad person.â
Seungkwan reaches across the table and squeezes your arm in reassurance. âI know that. Iâm not saying he is. But this isnât something that you can sweep under the rug. Wouldnât it be better to find out now instead of continuing a relationship that makes you doubt?â
Seungkwan is right. Of course he is. Even if it isnât something bad, you know you still have to ask Seungcheol about it. You have been putting it off under the guise that the relationship is still ânewâ and you donât want to intrude into his space too soon and potentially jeopardize what you two have. Because you really care about him, maybe youâre in love with him too, and you donât want to mess it up.
Seungcheol came into your life after a patch of bad dates. With every guy that acted like a complete asshole to you, you became more and more disillusioned with the idea of dating. But then you met him at a convenience store on a random Wednesday afternoon, where he showed up straight from the gym, looking for a bottle of water. You felt like an idiot with your soda and four sugary snacks, watching this absolute hunk buy just water and chug it down. But he noticed you, and he liked you enough to strike up a conversation. He walked you to your car, and you didn't hesitate for a second before giving him your number. He was handsome, kind and funny. Thereâs no way you could say no.
That was six months ago, and Seungcheol has proven to be an excellent boyfriend. He loves to dote on you and take care of you. He enjoys the little things, like lying in bed together to watch movies on a rainy day, or going for an evening jog and buying excess amounts of food on the way back. He loves showing you off to his friends, a tight knit group that often go out for barbecue and karaoke, insisting you join them. It always turns out to be a very fun night, and you look forward to it every time. He drives you home afterward, spends the night, and ends up taking you to heights you previously havenât experienced in your relationships. When he kisses you, it feels like flowers blooming in your chest. You truly feel like youâre falling in love with him. Heâs perfect in every way.
Except this one little thing.
Every month, for six days, Seungcheol disappears. And by that you mean truly disappears.
When it happened the first time, you called and texted, all of which remained unanswered. That was very unlike him. He always replies fairly quickly, or at least lets you know that he is busy. But not this time. Worry clawed at you. By day four, you had showed up at his apartment, and the door was answered by his roommate Mingyu, who was evasive about where Seungcheol was, and only promised that he would get back to you in a few days. He didnât even let you in, which was so far and away from the kind Mingyu you knew. You had left confused and slightly irritated.
When Seungcheol came back, he was endlessly apologetic, saying something urgent needed his attention and he left town. He sat you down and explained to you that he needed to be absent once every month on some personal business, and at the time, you two had freshly started dating, so you just agreed. He was the best boyfriend you had had in years. You didnât want to be difficult and drive him away. You already cared for him so much that it didnât register how strange his request was, how much of a red flag it should have set off in your brain. You couldnât imagine someone as wonderful as Seungcheol being involved in anything bad. And maybe that was naĂŻve of you, but you convinced yourself that maybe it was something temporary.
But months passed, and it kept happening. You are more comfortable with him now, and now you want to know the reason because if you donât then your mind will keep making up crazy explanations that will make you spiral. Is he cheating? Does he have a secret family out of town that he needs to see once a month? Is it drugs? God, you canât take it anymore.
You and Seungkwan call it a night fairly early, since you both have work the next morning. Itâs barely past nine when you get home, and you wonder if you should call Seungcheol over. He usually crashes at your place after wrapping up with work and the gym. But your eyes fall on the date, and you realise Seungcheol is due to âdisappearâ tomorrow. So he likely wonât show up for the night and instead stay at his own place. Or go out of town. Or whatever the fuck he usually does in this one elusive week.
You feel irritation creep up on your brain. Fuck this. You open his chat and text him.
[me]: SOS. URGENT.
Then you wait. You sit on the couch and donât answer the phone when he inevitably starts calling. You know itâs a shitty thing to do, but you donât think you can wait for a week to confront him and stew more and more in your thoughts. And this isnât something you can talk about over the phone. Whatever he needs to do can wait for one night of conversation. You know he will show up, so you just wait for the doorbell to ring.
And it does, followed by a series of heavy bangs, a call of your name, some cursing, before a key fits into the lock as he uses the one you gave him about a month ago.
Seungcheol comes barrelling into the room, out of breath and eyes darting around frantically. You feel a bit bad, but you canât focus on that too much when something that smells earthy and grassy hits your nose. Itâs not a bad smell, itâs actually quite pleasant. Like how grass smells after the rain. But itâs overwhelming and it clings to him. Itâs nowhere near projected to rain, you know the forecast. So why does he smell like that?
You frown, staring at him. He looks unreasonably disheveled. His hair is sticking up all over the place and heâs sweating like crazy. His gym isnât far. He shouldnât be this winded over a two block run, especially considering how good of a shape he is in.
âWhat-â he looks confused. âWhat happened?â
âI need to talk to you.â
He blinks a few times, straightening up and looking around. âWhat is the emergency?â
You sigh. âThereâs no emergency, Cheol. But I really need to talk to you before you take off again for a week.â
That makes him pause, the sharpness in your tone. He takes a deep breath, shifting in his place. He brushes his hair off his forehead, and you realise how flushed his normally pale skin is. His neck, his ears, up to his jaw and the apples of his cheeks.
âWere you in the middle of a workout?â You ask.
He blinks again, like heâs processing your words. You notice his eyes, hazy, unfocused. Worry starts to creep up on you.
âCheol, are you okay?â
He nods a bit too harshly, rubbing over his eyes as if to clear them. You watch, incredulous.
âI thought you were-â He huffs, as if irritated. âCan we do this after I get back?â His voice sounds strained. He shuffles back a bit more, away from you, and you feel the same irritation again, bordering on anger.
âNo.â You stand up. âWeâre doing this now. Iâm tired of the lies.â
Seungcheol looks indignant. âI never lied to you.â
âYou never told me the whole truth either.â You shoot back. When you take a step towards him, Seungcheol jerks back. You freeze. What the hell is wrong with him?
âAre you okay? Are you sick?â You feel more worried now, looking at the state of him. He shakes his head, still breathing hard. Heâs standing still now, why is his breathing not regulating? Why is he still panting like he ran two miles?
âIâm fine. I just need to leave.â
You scowl. âWhat is this, Cheol? What is so secretive that you can never talk about it?â
He groans, almost frustrated, before stepping towards the door. You immediately take hurried steps forward to block his path. He glares at you.
âDonât be childish.â He grits. âLet me leave.â
You hesitate for a second. Seungcheol has never acted this way with you before. Heâs rough around the edges, but heâs always gentle with you. You wonder again, if you should stick to your guns here. But youâve come too far to back off now.
âTell me where youâre going and I will let you go right now.â
Seungcheol laughs, but itâs not amused at all. Itâs choppy, almost like a scoff. His shoulders slump.
âFine.â He sighs. âFine. I guess it was too good to be true that you wouldnât question this at all.â
Your heart pounds. What is he about to tell you?
âIâm a werewolf.â
You stare at him. He stares back. Everything is silent in the apartment. You donât move, as if waiting for him to say âsikeâ and start laughing.
âWhat?â
âIâm a werewolf.â
âNo, I heard you-â You gape at him. Then you feel irritated again.
âIs this a joke? Because all itâs doing is making me more angry-â
Seungcheol shakes his head, trudging to the couch and dropping on it with a heavy sigh. He pushes his hair off his forehead again, and heâs so sweaty that it slicks back instead of flopping into place again. The smell of rain and earth hit you once more.
âYou ever notice that I disappear around the full moon?â He mumbles. He looks spaced out again, like he isnât really in his senses.
âI-â You donât know what to say. You know the rumors. The conspiracy theories online. The so-called âwerewolf sightingâ videos that look a little too fake. Every once in a while, someone would pop up talking about their experience with werewolves. There are pages and pages of so-called wolf âloreâ online, and the usual stereotypes about them, but you always thought it was some fantasy-obsessed nuts. Your mind reels. Somehow the first question you blurt out is-
âDoes anyone else know?â
He shakes his head. You remember when you had shown up at his apartment five months ago.
âDoes Mingyu know?â
Seungcheol nods. âHeâs a werewolf too. Part of my pack.â
Your jaw drops. âThereâs a pack?â
Seungcheol stares at you and nods slowly. âYeah. Me, Mingyu, Chan, Joshua, Soonyoung, JihoonâŚ.â He trails off, eyebrows furrowing.
âIâm not gonna lie, I didnât think you would be more interested in other members of my pack and not the fact that I'm a werewolf.â
âRight.â You feel lightheaded. âSorry. A lot to process.â
He finally smiles at you, but itâs painful, almost like a wince, and it makes your heart lurch a bit. You sway slightly, realise you are still standing, and move to the couch. When you sit down, Seungcheol scoots away from you. You watch him.
âDoes the fact that youâre acting weird have anything to do with you being a werewolf?â
Seungcheol fidgets, looking nervous for the first time. Is there more? What else could he possibly tell you that would be crazier than this?
âThis is- uh,â he groans, burying his head in his hands. âHow the hell do I tell you this?â
âIt canât be worse than what youâve already said.â You respond. Your own voice sounds like itâs far away from you, like youâre watching all of this unfold instead of being there yourself. Seungcheol snorts.
âIt absolutely can be.â
You donât reply, waiting. This time, Seungcheol doesnât look at you. His cheeks still dusted pink, sweat lining his forehead.
âOnce a month, every male werewolf goes into a rut.â He mumbles. âItâs just a natural thing. Starts after puberty.â
You frown, remembering what Seungkwan said. âWhat happens? Is it like a period?â
He manages to laugh at that, shaking his head. âNo, itâs like- like a mating thing.â
Heâs already flushed, but he manages to turn even redder, fiddling with the hem of his shirt. He groans, expression pinched as if in pain. âThis is so embarrassing.â
âJust say it.â You encourage. Youâre very curious now, and the metaphorical edging isn't helping. You try to rack your brain on any passing thing you had read on the internet about werewolves, but youâre drawing a blank.
âI told you, itâs a mating thing. The werewolf part in me wants to- wants to breed.â
You freeze, trying to keep a straight face as you process his words.
âSo you get horny?â
Seungcheol nearly doubles over, burying his head between his knees. If you werenât reeling so hard at this revelation, you would be more amused.
âSo you disappear once a month because you get horny?â You lean back on the couch. Realisation of the incredulity of this situation hits you, and you try not to laugh. âI gotta hand it to you, Cheol. Thatâs one hell of an excuse.â
That makes him look up, confused. âWhat do you mean?â
You stand up then, walking to the kitchen. Seungcheol follows you with his eyes. You pour yourself a glass of water, leaning against the counter to look at him, peering over the back of the couch at you. You down the glass in two gulps, gathering your thoughts.
âYou expect me to believe that you disappear once a month because youâre a werewolf and you have some biological urge to mate and make werewolf babies?â You scoff, voice tinged with sarcasm. âYou know thereâs better ways to lie? But I have to admit, of all the guys that have lied to me in the past, yours is the most creative.â
âYou think Iâm lying to you?â He stands up, walking around the couch and closer to you. Thereâs that scent again. Rain and earth. âYou think Iâm making all this up?â
You roll your eyes, even if your heart squeezes at how hurt he sounds. Deep down, youâre very confused. He sounds so earnest and sincere, but it is just too fantastical to believe. Werewolves are real? Who the hell in their right mind would believe that?
You remembered hearing about werewolves from old, scary stories told around campfires when you were a kid. Then, with the internet becoming popular, those same stories got transferred to forums and YouTube video essays. While people did talk about werewolves, you donât know anyone personally who actually saw or knew one. They are the same as ghosts, or demons, or vampires. They are mythological creatures.
âEven your excuse is half baked.â You manage to say, not looking at his eyes, the hurt in them. âYou leave because youâre horny? You realise Iâm your girlfriend right? You realise we have sex?â
Seungcheol grits his teeth. âItâs not the same. A rut is- itâs intense. I lose control over all my senses. If Iâm not careful, I could hurt you.â
You roll your eyes. âBut you can go fuck someone else. Got it.â
Seungcheol steps closer, crowding you against the counter. He looks noticeably ticked off now, and something about it makes your core stir just a bit. âI donât fuck anyone. I lock myself in my room and ride it out. I would never do that to you. I love you.â
You tense, staring wide eyed at him, shocked. This is the first time he has said that to you. Your heart squeezes, and despite the clouds in his eyes, thereâs a bright sincerity in them as you look at him.
âYou mean that?â
He smiles, and it looks almost pained. âOf course I do. Iâve been in love with you for months. And I wish I could tell you this in a better setting, but I donât want you to ever think that I would do something like that.â
You let out a shaky sigh. âI donât know what to believe anymore.â
Seungcheol nods slowly. âI know. Itâs too much to take in. Once my rut is over, I promise I will take you out and show you everything. Iâll introduce you to the pack properly, this time as a pack. Every question you have, I promise I will answer. But right nowâŚ.â
He steps back from you, head turning up to the ceiling with eyes squeezed shut like heâs in pain.
âRight now I can feel my rut coming, so I have to leave.â
You watch him trudge out of the kitchen and towards the door. You panic at the thought of him leaving. So you make up your mind in that split second, even if you think it might be a stupid decision.
âYou could stay.â
Seungcheol smiles and shakes his head. âI canât, baby.â
âI could help you. With your rut.â
He blinks. Frowns. âI told you. I lose all senses.â
âAnd what?â You step closer to him. âYou get a little rough? I can handle rough.â
The air between you shifts, electrifies. Seungcheol stares at you, like heâs trying to figure you out.
âRuts arenât like normal sex.â His voice is low, breathy. Heâs speaking more deliberately now, as if trying to make you understand. You feel something zip down your spine. âI never go down. Iâm constantly hard. I need to cum over and over.â
âSounds hot as hell to me.â Youâre only partially teasing. Your heart is beating so fast, and a small voice in your head questions you. Are you insane? But thereâs a curiosity in you, and a fire sizzling deep inside the pit of your stomach. And something about the way he smells up close is making you heady, like sitting in a cloud of marijuana smoke.
And also, deep down, a small part of you still doesnât believe this ridiculous story. And you want to see where this goes.
When you lay your palm on your boyfriendâs chest, he tenses. His hands are clenched so tight that you can see his knuckles turn white. His breathing is heavy, shaky. His pupils are blown, and you canât help but clench at how wrecked he looks. And nothing has happened yet. You try not to imagine what he will look like when youâre under him. You want to see that so badly.
âI can take it.â
He shakes his head. âYou canât.â
âWhy donât we find out?â You challenge him. One step closer puts you right in his space, and you lean up on your tiptoes to run your lips over his jaw. Seungcheol nearly shakes, trembles with restraint. You can see he is battling with himself, and you wonder what you can do to give him one last push.
âImagine how much better your ruts could be if you had me to fuck through them, instead of suffering every month.â You mouth at his skin right below the ear. âYou underestimate how bad I want you to manhandle me, Cheol.â
He groans, and you feel his hands finally touch you, gripping hard at your hips before sliding up your sides. He kneads the plush of your waist, fingers almost greedy as they run over you. It sends a thrill through you. He all but pants into your neck and you almost gasp when you hear a growl reverberate deep in his chest, almost animalistic. Your veins turn a bit cold. You wonder what you have gotten yourself into.
âYouâre sure?â He asks one last time.
You swallow hard, making up your mind. âPlease fuck me. I want it.â
Something in the air breaks.
His lips are on yours, needy, desperate, suffocating, teeth nipping sharply at your mouth until youâre moaning, feeling his tongue slide in almost instantly. He bends just enough to grip the backs of your thighs, lifting you up and making you wrap your legs around his waist. He walks to your bedroom, lips not leaving yours for a single second.
Sex with Seungcheol is always passionate, but this seems charged by a fire you have not yet felt. It feels like he wants to devour you, and you keen at how good it feels to have him want you this much. You dig your fingers into his shoulders, holding on to him tight until heâs dropping you onto the bed, your body bouncing on the mattress for a fraction of a second before heâs on you again. This time, heâs licking and nipping over your jaw, traveling back until he meets the shell of your ear, then down to your neck. All the while, he whispers to you.
âYou have no idea how good you smell to me, baby.â He says. âThat first day I met you, I could smell you across the store. The most delicious thing I ever scented. And you were so beautiful. I knew I had to have you.â
You canât help your moan, hearing him talk about you like that. Thereâs something animalistic and primal about it that you didnât know could turn you on so much. He parts your legs to settle between them, and his tongue presses insistently into the junction between your shoulder and neck. Itâs his favorite place to give you hickies. You never knew why until right now.
âThis,â he nips at the skin, âis where itâs the strongest. This is where I want to mark you the most. So you can always smell a little bit like me. So everyone knows youâre mine.â
You clench hard. Your head spins. Your hips buck up, brushing over the front of his jeans. Heâs already rock hard, and somehow straining through the many layers so you can feel his erection. He groans, still sucking a hickey into you. You already feel delirious, trying to string your thoughts into sentences.
âWhy donât you bite me? Isnât that a werewolf thing?â
He growls, growls, and the sound is filled with primal desperation. He digs his teeth just a bit more into the skin. Not enough to break it, but enough to bruise. It feels like a warning, one that you donât want to heed.
âDonât say that shit to me, darling.â He rasps. âYou donât know how little self control I have right now.â
Thatâs what youâre working on. You want him to give in completely. And it might be a completely stupid risk on your part, but you canât help wanting to see him succumb to whatever animal is inside him, calling the shots. You buck your hips up again, and he chases after them, grinding hard into your heat. You sigh at the friction, and he does it again. He laves your neck with his tongue and teeth, humping into you over and over until youâre so wet and desperate that you canât take any more. You whine and tug at his clothes.
âCheol.â you gasp. âOff.â
He complies, and clothes fly off, one article after another, until youâre naked under his unusually heated torso. Youâve always loved how physically massive your boyfriend is, and you wonder if that has to do with his species or just who he is as a person. Is he even a person?
His skin is slick with sweat, and when you meet his eyes, you nearly gasp at how the color of his irises have changed. Streaks of golden branch outwards from his dilated pupils. His lips are swollen from being kissed and bitten, and he runs his tongue over them as if he wants to taste the remnants of your skin. His hair feels like itâs standing on its end, giving him a rougher, more rugged look.
He looksâŚâŚ wild. Thatâs the only word you can think of.
When he finally shucks his pants and underwear, leaving him bare, your eyes nearly bulge out from your head. Youâve seen his dick before, taken it countless times, but he looks bigger, curvier. The vein that runs on the underside is throbbing desperately, and you almost get dizzy when you see that the base of his cock is broader, almost like it swelled up.
âStill think you can take me?â He says.
He looks too gone to be able to speak even, but it seems some part of his mental faculties is still intact. You however, feel like youâve dunked your head underwater. Your pussy weeps, clenches, horribly empty, and some filthy part of you wants to take all of him, even if it might not be possible.
âI want to.â You breathe out, tearing your eyes away from his leaking cock to look up into his golden eyes. âWanna take all of you so bad. Even if I canât. I wanna try.â
Seungcheol takes his sweet time opening you up, going from one finger, to two, to three, and even squeezing his pinky in there when he thinks youâre ready. He whispers encouragement in your ear, saying he needs to do this before common sense leaves him and all he can think of is cumming inside you over and over. He praises you, sucking more bruises into your skin until you feel like every part of your neck is completely marred. He fucks his fingers into you until you cum once, twice, until your throat is hoarse from singing his praises, moaning over and over, begging for his cock. Until your pussy is wrecked and sore without even tasting his cock yet. Finally, after what feels like an eternity, he pulls his fingers out, completely drenched, and uses your juices to slick up his shaft.
âI canât hold back anymore.â He sounds like a wounded animal, needy, begging, and his voice is torn and choppy. âI need to fuck you-â
When his cock finally breaches your cunt, your mouth drops open in a silent cry, hands fisting into the sheets under you, toes curling. Youâre already delirious, beyond logic from your two orgasms, and it feels like youâre already spent. But you want more because youâre greedy and Seungcheol always spoils you. Every time you feel like heâs all the way inside, he keeps going farther, until you think you can feel him in your stomach, even if thatâs not physically possible. You feel the rim of your hole bump up against something even bigger, and he finally stops.
âDonât think youâre ready for my knot yet.â He grunts out.
Your sex addled, horny brain wants to insist that you are, but you already feel so damn full, so you take his word for it. You try to regulate your breaths, try to make them slower so your chest doesnât feel like itâs on fire, but then Seungcheol starts moving, pulling out slowly before pushing back in, and for the first time since you started, you actually think you wonât survive this.
He picks up the pace fairly quickly, fucking hard and fast into you while he groans and pants in your ear, telling you how good you feel. His words quickly devolve into depravity. You feel his nails digging into your thighs more sharply now, and the scent of rain and earth gets more potent. You think you can see the little hair on his arms stand on end, his thrusts get more frantic. Your eyes are wide, you almost canât believe them, when you see the muscles shift under his skin, like they are rearranging themselves. Something fundamentally alters in his appearance at that moment, and you wonder if heâs really, truly gone now. He grunts again, rough and gritty, and youâre reminded acutely of an animal.
âIâm gonna cum in you. Gonna fill you up. You want that?â
Your body jolts with each thrust, your breaths coming in staccato, your poor pussy taking the beating of a lifetime, but it feels so good, like heâs fucking depths in you previously unreachable, stoking a fire so primal you had no idea it existed inside you. Your brain seems to be slipping further and further away from reality, almost like youâre the one in rut, like youâre the one who badly wants to fuck and get fucked, and you nod your head desperately at his question.
Seungcheol pulls your legs up by the backs of your knees until he is bending you in half, using his weight to pin you down hard on the mattress. It presses into your stomach, your chest, and your breaths get shorter, your brain more muddled as oxygen enters your lungs less and less. It only amplifies the pleasure, making you lightheaded. Seungcheol is still talking, making only little sense.
âGonna breed you. Gonna get you pregnant. You want that? Getting filled up with my pups?â
âYes.â You sob, caught up in the fantasy of it. âCum in me, Cheolie. Need to be filled up until itâs leaking out of me.â
He snarls, eyes screwing shut, and then you feel warmth flood your insides. Itâs enough to push you over the edge too, and you weep as a fire lights up in you in the wake of your orgasm, burning and sizzling in your nerves as you jerk and twitch, riding it out. Seungcheol groans and gasps, short, quick thrusts carrying him through his high. Heâs still cumming. Thereâs so much of it that it runs down your ass and onto the sheets, but you donât care. Your body goes slack.
You whine when he pulls out abruptly, your body jolting as he grabs your hips to flip you over, tugging at them until youâre on your knees. He uses his right hand to push down on your back until youâre arching. He hums in approval at the position you take.
His cock enters you again, and you gasp at how hard he is. He was right. He didnât lose his erection at all. He immediately sets a brutal pace, hitting a whole new angle in this position that has you scrambling for purchase, your walls fluttering around him. Itâs almost too much, almost, but it feels so good that youâre high on it, like someone took out your brain and threw it away, leaving you as this debased mess.
You can barely gasp, can barely feel the drool that runs from your open mouth and onto the mattress, eyes rolled up. But Seungcheol sees it when he bends over you, pace not faltering for a second, and he groans at the sight.
âNasty slut.â He spits out, voice unsteady because of the force of his thrusts. âYou were right. I did underestimate you. You were made to take a werewolfâs cock. Made to help in a rut. The perfect little fuck toy.â
You whine, clenching around him at his words. He curses, hand reaching around to toy with your clit, and aided by the remnants of your last orgasm, you cum again after a few tight rubs, trembling in his hold and nearly unable to suck in air. Tears escape the corners of your eyes, running down to drip onto the bedsheets. This one feels more like a gentle wave in the wake of your previous highs, like something cold and sizzling traveling through your nerves. Seungcheol moans, teeth sinking into the back of your neck, before heâs grinding into you and reaching his own high. He throbs inside you, spurting ropes of white, and more of it leaks out of you, running through your slit before falling in thick globs onto the bed. Itâs filthy, wet and sticky, but your mouth waters at the thought of tasting it.
It takes three more rounds, on the bed, on the floor, and against the wall, before Seungcheolâs cock finally, finally, goes flaccid. He fucks you for hours, alternating between deep, slow strokes to frantically rutting into you until he is cumming again. He whispers filthy, downright scandalous things in your ear, like youâre an object made for his pleasure, and all these words coming from kind, respectful Seungcheol just send you spiraling into lust.
He manhandles you so easily, arranging your limbs exactly how he wants them like you really are his little fuck doll. At this point, you have cum running down your thighs in thick streaks, oozing out every time your abused cunt clenches. Youâve lost count of how many times you came on him. Youâre sweaty and aching all over, no sensation in your legs. You canât move, canât speak, and black spots dance in your vision. You vaguely feel him carrying you, hands securely holding your thighs.
Itâs ten minutes later that you feel like you can see and hear again, and you find yourself in your bathtub, back against Seungcheolâs chest, warm from his touch and the water around you. It soothes your sore muscles, and your eyelids droop, basking in the silence. You feel gentle lips on your shoulder, on the rare unmarked patch of skin, and you sigh at the feeling.
âYou doing okay?â
You hum, turning your head so you can nuzzle into his neck. He kneads at your legs, and the pressure feels amazing.
âThink you can do three or four more days of this?â
You blink blearily up at him. He still looks a bitâŚ.. wild. Wolf-like. Hair standing up, bristling, like it has a life of its own. The golden tinge of his irises.
âI thought it was six days.â
âTheyâre shorter when you have someone helping you through them.â
You nod. âThereâs really so much I donât know.â
Seungcheol chuckles a bit, wrapping his arms tightly around you. His tongue laps at your neck again, licking over your skin in thick stripes, and you realise you really like it when he does that.
âHow long before we have to go again?â You ask.
He squeezes you, and you feel his lips tug up in a grin. âYou want me that bad?â
You heat up at the deep timbre in his voice, shrugging. âWhat can I say, I think itâs hot when you go all wolf on me.â
That makes him laugh, loud and deep from his chest. He kisses your temple, then the shell of your ear and water splashes around you as you squirm at the feeling, giggling. He keeps licking at your skin as the water settles again.
âMaybe one day, I can take your knot too.â
You can see the exact moment your words hit him, making him suck in a sharp breath, pupils dilating. He grins, slow and sexy, and you feel his cock twitch against your back.
âYou keep takinâ me like a champ and that day might come earlier than you think.â
(n.) a place where you feel safe and at home, where you are your most authentic self; a place from which your strength is drawn.
everyone has needs. and everyone deserves to have those needs fulfilled. alphas have ruts. omegas have heats. do they not deserve partners? should they suffer in pain through their cycles because of biology? Alpha and Omega Services were created for this very reason, to help those who need it. you signed up to be a Service Omega months ago, and youâre happy with this life, helping your clients get through their ruts to the best of your capability.
but something is missing.
when a team of professional volleyball players request a Service Omega to help them through game season, you agree to the job, hoping the change in pace might help you break this strange emptiness. but the feeling only deepens, grows, along with a whole bunch of other emotions you are not ready to handle.
content warnings: omega!reader, fem!reader, this is set entirely in omegaverse so read at your own risk! exploration of secondary gender and pack dynamics, ruts, heats, knots and scenting. angst, fluff and smut. insecurity, the feeling of being lonely, abandoned, hurt, being âotheredâ. jealousy, some hostility. unprotected sex, nsfw, mentions of breeding, mating, knotting, omega subspace, multiple orgasms. thereâs love between all subgenders. all members of seventeen are featured: alpha - seungcheol, jeonghan, junhui, soonyoung, wonwoo, seokmin, mingyu, hansol. beta - joshua, chan. omega - jihoon, minghao, seungkwan.
For decades, the Choi family has dominated the underground trade and criminal enterprise of Korea, and largely, Seoul. But the Choi sons start dying, until all thatâs left of the empire falls to Seungcheol, the last Choi son. There is a new competitor rising to take over his territory, and Seungcheol is desperate to do anything to keep his dying empire alive.
Biting and mating with his competitorâs sister, a sheltered, treasured omega, might just be the drastic measure he has to take to keep his hold.
pairing: alpha!choi seungcheol x omega!reader
genre: omegaverse, mafia au
word count: 11k
warnings (for this chapter): swearing, mentions of killing, disease and death, kidnapping and imprisonment, feelings of guilt, anxiety, hunger, pain, slight mention of injuries and blood, cigarette smoking
series masterlist
Seungcheol remembers the golden days.
Itâs what he calls them, back when he was still a child. The cobblestone pathway that wound all the way to the large mansion which he called his childhood home. Leading up the steps and through the grand oak doors was a beautiful entryway, lit up by a truly magnificent, golden chandelier. His mother loved the house, she was always one for theatrics and glamor. The house was built brick by brick, according to her exact desires. His father had no say in it, neither did he want any. He threw money at however many contractors and architects it took and told them only one thing; bring my mateâs vision to life.
Seungcheol was born in that house, in a large bedroom that had been set up as a birthing suite, surrounded by a doctor, a midwife, and many maids. He was the youngest in his family, so they all doted on him as he grew up. Sometimes, Seungcheol thinks that this is why it took him so long to get a handle on things when it all fell to him. He was never taught to toughen up, because no one imagined he would be the one taking over and leading the charge. He was always the baby of the family.
It seems that no one really anticipated the calamity that would fall upon them. His fatherâs failing health, his motherâs death, his brothers killed one by one in rival family clashes until it was just Seungcheol, left to pick up the pieces of a crumbling empire. In merely a few years, it seems everything broke faster than any of them could fix it. Maybe if they knew what the future held, they would have taught him the ins and outs of the business better. He was never meant to be the leader. He had been the youngest all his life. But here he was now, no older brothers to hold the reins anymore, and a huge team of delinquents to lead as he tried to save his familyâs business.
At least we have Busan. Thatâs what Seungcheol would always say when he felt the panic of his responsibility seep into his bones. He said that when they lost a big portion of their underground trade to police raids. He said that when the Incheon smuggling operations were shut down. He said that when he lost many, many men to fighting that was so frequent now, nearly unprecedented in the Choi empire. Busan Port is their biggest source of revenue. Nearly their entire trade comes from his men posted out there.
At least we have Busan.
Then the Kwon Family closed in on their ships, and all hell broke loose.
They canât lose Busan. They canât. If Busan gets taken, if their ships are occupied or destroyed, then thereâs nothing holding his business up anymore. The empire his father built would officially collapse. Generations worth of spilled blood will be rendered useless. Seungcheol canât let that happen, no matter what cost.
âDamn Kwon Family.â Jeonghan mutters under his breath. âSince when are they such a threat?â
Heâs lounging on the couch in Seungcheolâs office without a care in the world, sprawled with his legs draping over the arm. To the untrained eye, it looks like heâs relaxed, but Seungcheol knows that despite what it looks like, Jeonghanâs brain is racing a hundred miles an hour. Thereâs a reason Jeonghan is allowed to lay around Seungcheolâs office so casually. None of his other men would dare be so brazen. But Jeonghan is his most trusted confidant, his advisor, and the only reason that the Choi empire hasnât completely collapsed in the last few years. Seungcheol trusts Jeonghan above all else.
âWe need to do something about this.â Seungcheol mumbles. Heâs leaning back in his office chair, feeling like the weight of the world is holding his shoulders down. âMaybe we need to send a message?â
Jeonghan hums and shakes his head, still staring up at the ceiling. âNo. Too much police pressure right now. We canât be reckless.â
Seungcheol huffs. âSo what else?â
Jeonghan doesnât reply, eyes unfocused. Seungcheol can practically see the gears in his head turn.
âGive me a few days. Let me find out what I can about them.â He finally says.
Jeonghan is true to his word, because a few days later, he has a full portfolio of everyone associated with the Kwon family. Theyâve been around for a while now, a smaller business with not much influence, but under the Kwon sonâs new reign, they are expanding at a frightening pace. Heâs reckless, sharp and unrelenting. Seungcheolâs men call him âHoshiâ. Tigerâs gaze. Frankly, Seungcheol isnât a fan of titles, but he can see why this one stuck, considering how he has shaken up the business so quickly and effectively. He can understand why Hoshi is an intimidating figure, and it seems his hold on underground drug circles is way stronger than Seungcheol originally thought.
âThis is where we can strike.â Jeonghan says, swiping on his laptop to land on a photo, turning the screen to fully face Seungcheol. Itâs a woman, definitely younger than Seungcheol himself, with wide open eyes and a mouth pulled into a pout. The picture is taken from afar and zoomed in, so itâs a little grainy. Sheâs sitting on a balcony. Across from her is the Kwon family son, Hoshi. Whatâs his name again? Soonyoung? Heâs smoking a cigarette.
âWho is she? His mate?â
Jeonghan shakes his head. âSister.â
Now that heâs mentioned it, there is some similarity, though not a lot. Seungcheol frowns.
âOkay. What about her? Do we kill her as a warning?â
Jeonghan snorts a little. âBroaden your horizons a bit, Seungcheol-ah. Thereâs ways to do things without killing.â
Seungcheol rolls his eyes. Heâs really not in the mood for any of Jeonghanâs usual quips right now. âSo what do you propose?â
âYou take her as your mate.â
Seungcheolâs eyes widen, head jerking to the side to look at his advisor. Jeonghan doesnât seem perturbed at all. He only looks at Seungcheol in anticipation.
âWhat?â
Jeonghan leans back in the seat across the table where he sits. âThink about it. Killing her wonât help. From what I know about Hoshi, that will only piss him off. Heâs not one to receive a message like that kindly. He wonât back down, he will try to expand twice as hard if you take her out of the picture. But if you were to mate her, make her your omegaâŚ..â
He trails off. The gears in Seungcheolâs head turn, and he finishes Jeonghanâs sentence.
âHe becomes compliant. He wonât risk ruining his sisterâs life by taking me down.â
Jeonghan nods, the corner of his lip ticking up in a smirk. âExactly.â
Seungcheol ponders over it for a few minutes, and Jeonghan doesnât interrupt him. At the end of the day, itâs really Seungcheol who calls the shots. Jeonghan might be an excellent strategist, but nothing gets done without Seungcheolâs explicit say so. His rough circumstances meant he had to grow up way quicker than he ever anticipated or wanted to. He doesnât know if heâs a good leader, but he sure as hell tries, and it seems Jeonghan trusts his final word.
Itâs not uncommon or unheard of in underground circles to take omegas and mate them as leverage. Itâs one of the reasons why family omegas are so fiercely protected and hidden. Thereâs a good chance that Hoshiâs sister has never set foot outside her familyâs estate, and being her alpha brother, thereâs no way Hoshi will stay stubborn if the threat of his sisterâs mate is hanging over his head.
Thereâs hesitation here, though. As common as it is, Seungcheol has always found the method to be sleazy, leveraging someoneâs life like that. He may be part of a crime family, hell, Seungcheol has killed many with his own hands, but thereâs something about this that seems more violating than death. Death is a quick reprieve. A flash of pain and then nothing. But this, this is prolonged suffering. This might as well be classified as torture.
He looks at the picture again. Youâre in your early twenties, maybe. Sheltered and protected your entire life. This might be a blow to Hoshi, but he canât imagine what it would feel like for you. He stays silent for a long time, pondering.
Maybe Jeonghan senses Seungcheolâs doubt, because he says the one sentence that could push Seungcheol to the point of desperation.
âWe will lose Busan.â
Seungcheol closes his eyes. Jeonghan is right, he knows this. Itâs either this, or Seungcheol loses everything. His men lose their jobs, hundreds of families that are dependent on him, his business. His own family is gone, he doesnât have a whole lot to live for. But he knows how far his business stretches. He has been in those warehouses, on those docks. The men who look to him for guidance, the men who have served him, his father, his grandfather, for generations before. He canât say no. Too many people are at stake here. Itâs too big a price to pay.
You will just have to be the sacrifice.
âŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚ
The light is bright when your blindfold is pulled off, and it makes you squint. You shield your eyes, bringing your knees up to your chest so you can curl into a ball. The mattress where the strange alpha plopped you down is soft, but you donât dare relax. You blink furiously to clear your vision. A few stray tears run down your cheeks as things come into focus.
The unfamiliar scent you smelled all through the car ride belongs to a very tall, intimidating looking alpha. Heâs broad and very muscly, bare arms appear threatening in his sleeveless black shirt. Youâre sure that if he wanted, he could tear you limb from limb. You kick with your feet so your body shuffles back. You feel your shoulder blades meet the headboard of the bed youâre on. The sheets are maroon in color, velvet and very soft, much more luxurious than the ones you have at home. But right now, you would sleep on the floor of your bedroom, cold and naked, rather than be here.
The alpha watches you for a few seconds before walking to the window. He tugs in the window pane. It doesnât budge. Then, without a word, he walks to the door and closes it behind him. You hear a click. He has locked you inside.
You stay frozen still for a long time, listening for any sound, any whisper. There is none, but you donât move. Half out of fear, and half out of grief. You think of Soonyoung again. And along with that, you think of Seokmin.
Joyous, warm Seokmin. The boy you grew up with. Well, a man now. An alpha. But you knew him even before he presented. He was a sensitive child. He was in tune with your emotions just as well as his own. His smile was brighter than the sun. His laugh lit up the room. And when he presented as Alpha, none of it changed. He was still bright, still shining.
When you presented as an omega, your mother was delighted, a reaction not usually seen in crime families. Usually, omegas are an imposition, a weak point, but your mother was not bothered, and Seokmin was a big reason why. Seokminâs father was the advisor to your own father, so your family knew his family very intimately. It was almost a no-brainer that when the time came, Seokmin would be your mate. And that put your mother at ease.
But then your father died, and then your mother, and everything justâŚâŚ kept getting delayed.
You blink a little, eyes still bleary, and your hand reaches up to press on the fresh wound on your neck.
What would Seokmin say, knowing that you now belong to another alpha?
It takes you a long while to finally move, limbs sore and stiff. You feel wobbly on your feet, but you manage to shuffle to the dresser across the room. You barely recognise yourself in the mirror, eyes hollow and cheeks smudged with wet tears. You pull your hand away, and your face crumples at the sight.
Itâs huge, the mark. Itâs still beaded with some blood, and the skin surrounding the teeth marks is reddened. You wince when you brush your fingertips over it. Itâs tender. Your eyes well up again.
You always imagined being marked, every omega daydreams about it. In all your fantasies, it would be Seokmin giving you his mark. It would be warm and soft, and it would feel so good, like you are connected to him, filled with nothing but love and trust for each other, just like your mother described. All her stories about a mating mark are so intimate, regaling you with her feelings of peace and bliss, but absolutely none of that has happened for you.
All you feel right now is fear, and this anxious feeling that someone knows exactly where you are. You know mating marks connect you to your alpha, but you always thought that it would be a comforting feeling, that you would feel safe. Now, it feels like being watched. This creepy, heavy feeling that prickles your skin in the worst way. This is nothing like you imagined. This is your worst nightmare.
It would break your mother if she knew. Maybe itâs good that she isnât around to see this happen.
Thereâs a tentative knock on your door, and you nearly fly out of your skin. You scramble to get back on the bed, pulling the sheet up and curling into yourself like itâs supposed to protect you in any way. Thereâs a clinking of keys in the door, and then it opens. You fist the sheets tightly in your hands, frozen in fear.
The man that steps through is also a stranger, and not the alpha who marked you. Heâs shorter, but has a lean, sturdy build. Your nose twitches as you feel him out. A beta.
You relax only a smidge. At least itâs not an alpha, but Soonyoungâs warnings are clear in your head. You canât trust anyone, not even betas or omegas. Anyone can be dangerous. So you are still stiff and on guard.
The beta steps in and closes the door behind him. Heâs holding a white box with a Red Cross on it, a first aid kit. He gives you a smile.
âHi. Iâm Chan.â He is not as big and imposing as the alpha from before. His hair is brown and somewhat shaggy. He reminds you of a wide eyed little animal. He steps closer to the bed, but not too quickly. He places the first aid kit on the mattress at the edge of the bed, and clicks it open. Inside, you see gauze, antiseptic, bandages, some ointment and cotton balls. Then, he steps back and puts his hands in his pockets, turning them out. Empty. He lifts his shirt just enough to show you the waistband of his pants. Then does the same by turning around and showing you the back as well. No gun tucked into his jeans.
Heâs trying to show you that he wonât hurt you. Maybe he knows that saying the words wonât mean anything, so heâs proving it to you with action. You eye him with a little suspicion still, but your neck is throbbing really bad. And the blood is worrisome. You donât want to get an infection. Slowly, you lower your legs and the sheet, sitting straight.
Thatâs invitation enough, because the man smiles and steps closer with the box in his hands. He sits on the edge of the bed, leaning forward just a bit. You slowly show him your neck.
He works quickly, efficiently. You wonder if he is some kind of medical person, because it looks like he knows what heâs doing. You flinch when he cleans the area with the antiseptic, and he softens his touch immediately. Once the wound is bandaged and taken care of, he places a leaf of painkillers on the bedside table, along with a bottle of water.
âI wouldnât take the medicine just now. I think lunch is on its way up.â He gives you a small smile. âEat something and then take these. Okay?â
You nod slowly. Normally, thereâs no way you would ingest anything they gave you, Soonyoung was adamant on drilling that inside your head over the years (âpoison, or a sedative, could be anythingâ), but the medicine is sealed, and so is the water bottle. So maybe you will take just those.
Half an hour later, a maid brings you food on a tray. It looks like a warm, hearty meal, but you donât dare touch it, Soonyoungâs warnings in your mind. It could be laced with anything. You donât even want to imagine what they will do to you if youâre unconscious. You have to be on guard.
You stay curled up like that for hours. The only sound you hear is the periodic ticking of the clock. As the sun goes down, you can hear dogs barking in the distance. Occasionally, you will hear someone speak, a far away shout or a loud laugh, but nothing more than that. You can feel your joints scream from being pulled taut for so long, and your nerves are frayed. You donât move an inch.
The maid comes back around 8 oâclock with another tray of food. She sighs when she sees the first one just as she left it, but doesnât say a word. She just replaces the old tray with a new one holding fresh, warm food, leaving quickly. The aroma drifts into your nose. Your stomach growls.
You fall asleep like that, propped up and slumped a little against the headboard. You jerk awake at the slightest sound, a shuffle, a car door slamming outside, someone coughing. Itâs fitful, and only makes you more tired instead of giving you rest. Your feet and hands are cold, but you donât curl into the blanket on the bed. The wound on your neck still throbs. You power through.
After a very long, very fearful night, the sun comes up. The untouched dinner tray gets replaced with a breakfast one by the same woman. You close your eyes when the smell of fresh cooked eggs hits you. Youâre not used to rough conditions like this. Your father and then Soonyoung always had people tending to your every need, pampering you the best they could. You have never wanted for anything in your life. Hunger claws at you, menacing, biting. A feeling you have never known.
By late afternoon, youâre still slumped against the headboard. Youâre dead tired, and you donât know how to stay upright any longer. But your ears are alert, twitching at even the slightest of sounds. Exhaustion has made you even more hyper aware of your surroundings, somehow. When you hear the key turn in the lock again, you expect more food that will go wasted. But then the door opens, and a familiar scent of cinnamon and oak assaults your nose.
Itâs him.
You go rigid, pushing yourself up. Wide, tired eyes meet sharp, brown ones. He stares at you for a long moment before stepping aside. The maid is behind him, holding more food. She steps in wordlessly and replaces the old food with the new one before leaving. All the while, the alpha stands with his arms crossed over his white, button down shirt. He thanks the woman under his breath as she leaves before slowly closing the door behind her. The room falls silent again.
Your bite mark throbs, sensing his presence near. You dig your nails into your arms where they wrap around your legs.
âYou havenât been eating.â He finally speaks to you, stepping closer. His voice is soft but deep, and it somehow booms in the room, commands it. He puts his hands in his pants pockets. He stops at the edge of the bed. âWhy?â
You have no intention of answering him. You stare at the wall over his shoulder. You hear him sigh.
âYou think I had the food laced? Is that it?â
You donât say a word.
âThis food shouldnât be a problem for you then.â He says, looking down at it. Your eyes snap to the tray as well, and you notice that everything on the plate is in packets. A carton of milk, sealed sugared fruit slices, sealed sandwich.
âItâs not the most healthy,â the man mumbles, âbut itâs better than nothing.â
He steps towards the side of the bed. You stiffen as he draws near. He leans down to pick up the leaflet of pills on the bedside table and tuts.
âThis is sealed. How come you didnât take this?â
You are silent.
He bends then, placing one hand on the mattress as he leans closer. You squeeze your eyes shut, wanting desperately to scramble away from him, but youâre frozen with fear. His breath hits your ear as he speaks.
âYou have no reason not to eat now. Eat all this by the time I come back, or I will have Chan force food into you with an IV. Got it?â
You donât nod or shake your head. You sit rock still. This close, his scent is particularly potent. It unsettles you. He finally pulls away and walks quickly to the door, closing and locking it behind him. You breathe a shaky sigh of relief, straightening a little. Tears escape your eyes as you replay the interaction in your head.
You weep as silently as you can.
âŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚ
Seungcheol has been on edge since the day they raided the Kwon house. Heâs irritable, something uncharacteristic of him. Heâs usually more assured in his decisions, more confident in where he stands. But unease gnaws at him now, almost constantly. He sleeps with it like a companion on his shoulder, and he wakes with the same feeling. He regrets what he did, unsurprisingly. He had a feeling that he would. Maybe this shouldâve been the first time he didnât listen to Jeonghan.
When he voices the thought to his advisor, the alpha just chuckles.
âYou realise itâs not you, right? This feeling.â
Seungcheol scowls. Jeonghan continues talking.
âItâs her distress. You can feel it because of the mating bite. Thatâs why you feel uneasy. This is her, not you.â
Oh. Seungcheol processes the words a little. It does make sense, since Seungcheol knows just how shot your nerves are. Heâs seen it. You look nothing like you did when he first found you. You flinch and jump whenever he visits, like you expect him to tear you to shreds at any moment. He canât understand your apprehension. Heâs your mate. Your alpha. He would never harm you. Well, except the harm he has already done.
Jeonghan is still watching him closely. He speaks again when Seungcheol remains silent.
âIf you have any regrets about this whole thing, this will wipe them away.â He says, holding up his phone. âHoshiâs advisor just called. Theyâre calling off this monthâs Busan shipments. The port will remain ours.â
Seungcheol almost canât believe it. He sits up in his chair, wide eyed. Something in his chest lifts.
âYouâre serious?â
Jeonghan nods, smiling.
The sigh of relief Seungcheol lets out feels like itâs peeling away layers and layers of unending fatigue and anxiety. He runs a hand down his face and through his hair, like he wants to scrub the tension away.
âJust like that.â He breathes.
âJust like that.â Jeonghan repeats. âI told you, taking omegas is effective.â
Something new gnaws at Seungcheolâs chest. He bites the inside of his cheek. This is all possible because of the hell he has put you through. Without knowing, youâve saved his family, his men, him.
He feels guilty.
Jeonghan senses it, because of course he does. He leans forward to catch Seungcheolâs eye, and then he speaks softly.
âYou can give her a good life.â He says. âEven better than she had previously. The Choi empire is above and beyond whatever she had at the Kwon household. The circumstances of your bond might not be ideal, but you could be a good mate for her, and her for you.â
Seungcheol lets out a mirthless laugh. âShe will never trust me. And I donât expect her to.â
Jeonghan shakes his head. âShe will. Youâre a good man, a good alpha. You can do right by her. It doesnât have to be this way.â
Seungcheol nods slowly, though he doesnât fully believe Jeonghanâs words. But his advisor is right. What has happened has happened. He can at least try to make do with these circumstances the best he can.
If you let him, that is.
âŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚ..
You donât know how long you remain in that room. The days blur together. You can see the sun rise and set from the window, but at some point, you lose count of how many days have passed. Every one of them is the same, except now, you see more of your alpha.
He comes around dinner time, the maid with him holding a tray of food. She leaves and he stays, sitting in a chair across the bed and watching you eat. He doesnât leave until you empty everything on the plate. Thereâs something different every day, but itâs always in packets. Store bought. After many days of this, he comes in with a home cooked meal, warm and inviting.
âI hope you trust me enough by now to know I wouldnât hurt you.â He says. âNot like this.â
He doesnât say anything more, watching you in anticipation. But Soonyoung is in your ear. You canât trust anyone except your family. His words are so loud itâs almost like he is in your head. You canât eat this. You canât. Silently, you reach a hand forward and push the tray away.
He sighs, almost in resignation. Your heart squeezes a little, but you donât budge. You canât trust him. He mated you by force. He probably killed your brother too. You canât even look at him.
He doesnât come the next day. Or the day after that. No one does except the maid with a tray of food, all sealed. You claw at the skin of your arms, feeling uneasy. Youâre fed now, eating whatever you can that looks safe enough. But you still feel sickly. You miss the feeling of the sun against your skin. You miss the fresh air. You sit by the window for a few hours in the afternoon, when the sun is angled in a way that it hits your face. It feels glorious. You watch out of the closed window, massive expanses of gardens sprawling as far as the eye can see. Thereâs a stream going through the grounds, and you can hear the water faintly through the closed window. There are lawn chairs and a table sprawled on the grass a few feet away from the deck. You sometimes see people there. You recognise Chan, and the large alpha who brought you here that first day. Lots of men filter in and out of the backyard, talking and laughing. After three days of sitting by the window, you see your alpha there too.
Heâs wearing a black suit, but he takes the jacket off when steps up to a chair, draping it on the back. He drops into the chair with what looks like a tired sigh, running a hand through his hair and rolling the sleeves of his shirt up. Thereâs a man with him, just as tall but way skinnier. His hair is darker and longer. He settles into another chair and pulls out a box of cigarettes, offering one to your alpha. He accepts it, lights it, and takes a long drag.
You watch the two men talk a little. You still donât know your alphaâs name. You wonder who he is. Why he mated you and took you from your home. Youâre a little upset that your mother and you were so detached from the business side of things in your family. Maybe if you knew a little more, you wouldnât be so lost. Maybe you would know what to do in this situation.
A knock on your door surprises you, and you turn your head sharply towards the sound. You donât expect anyone right now, itâs not time to eat. The key clinks in the lock and it opens, a head of long, dark hair poking in. You scent the air, and youâre even more shocked. Itâs an omega.
He smiles at you and steps in, closing the door behind him.
âY/N?â
Youâre a little caught off guard. You havenât been referred to by name since you got here. Hell, barely anyone has talked to you at all. Chan worked silently, changing your bandage and leaving every couple of days. The maid never said a word. Your own alpha said less than three sentences to you.
You nod sharply. He walks closer to the bed and sits down on the edge. You remain sitting on the seat by the window.
âMy name is Jihoon. I work for Seungcheol.â
You blink a few times but donât reply.
âHe asked me to come down to see you. That maybe you would feel more at ease if an omega was around.â
You have enough brain to realise who the hell this Seungcheol is. So thatâs his name. You watch the omega with wary eyes. He stands up and walks closer to where youâre sitting, peering out the window. He sees the two men in the backyard, still talking. He nods to himself, as if making a decision.
âOkay, Iâm going to be honest with you.â Something in his tone shifts to be harder, more direct. He reaches into his pocket and tugs out a small leather book. He pulls it open and your eyes widen. Itâs not a book. A golden badge gleams at you, along with an ID. You read the name. LEE JIHOON. Shock grips you. Heâs an officer?
âAs you can see, Iâm not exactly who I appear to be.â He pockets the badge. âIâve been here for years, undercover, and Iâve been scoping this family out for a long, long time. They donât know who I really am. To them, Iâm just a worker.â
You are frozen solid, not even pulling a breath in, watching the man with wide eyes. He takes a moment before he speaks again, as if waiting for you to process his words before he gives you more information.
âI have been working silently to take this family down for a while now. Seungcheol, he is the last Choi son. If he falls, the whole empire collapses.â
A chill runs down your spine. Choi. Your alpha is a Choi son? Your mind reels. You may be sheltered, and you may be naĂŻve, but even the biggest, most dense idiot in Korea knows who the Choi sons are. A long line of formidable alphas, raised under the tutelage of their equally scary patriarch. At their height, the Choi sons had more power than even the most high ranking government officials. Over the last few years, the empire fell out a little, with the Choi sons dying one by one after their father. But the whispers remained. Their reputation precedes them. Everyone, whether part of the underground crime business or not, knew not to touch the Choi family with a ten foot pole.
You are a Choi sonâs omega. The last surviving son.
Itâs almost too much to take in, but it makes sense. The huge house, the unending lawns. From what little you can see, only a family like the Choi clan can afford a place like this. But along with shock, all you feel is confusion. What the hell does a Choi son want from you? Youâre no one. You know enough to understand that while you had a cushy life, the Kwon family is not nearly the same level as these people. Yet, here you are. Why? Did Soonyoung do something? Is this revenge?
Jihoon speaks again after a long moment.
âWhen I found out he took an omega against her will, I knew this could be the final nail in this familyâs coffin.â He says. âYouâre an outsider, just like I am. You arenât like them. You want nothing to do with them.â
He leans forward so he can catch your eye. âI can get you away from here. If we take him down, you will be free again. But for that, you have to work with me. You have to help me end this once and for all.â
Your voice is hoarse when you speak, considering that you havenât said a word in so long. âI canât do anything.â
He nods resolutely. âYes, you can. Youâre his mate. If anyone can earn his trust, itâs you. The omegas in this family work differently. They arenât kept in the dark, they work alongside the alphas and betas. You can involve yourself in their operations. You can get me information.â
You feel apprehension claw at you. This seems way above anything you are capable of. âCanât you do it yourself?â
He shakes his head. âSadly, I canât. No matter what I do, Iâm not part of his inner circle. There are some things he shares with only a few select people. You could be one of them. You just have to cozy up to him a little.â
You are shaking your head before he is even finished talking. âI canât.â
âYou can. Donât you want to see your brother again?â
You freeze, eyes wide. âSoonyoung is alive?â
Jihoon nods. âHe is. Heâs injured, and pissed as all hell, but heâs alive.â
Your eyes mist over in relief. You canât believe it. You had spent days trying to contend with the fact that your brother is likely dead. Just knowing heâs alive has taken away so much of your worry.
âSo youâll do this?â Jihoon says. âYouâll help me?â
Your hands ball into fists. You want to see Soonyoung again. You want to get out of here. So you nod.
âOkay. Iâll help you.â
âŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚ..
Jeonghan insists that Seungcheol should go to his omega again. Frankly, Seungcheol doesnât want to, but his advisor insists that he should.
âJihoon talked to her.â He offers. âHe said it went well, that sheâs more at ease now. Take her something nice to eat, maybe offer her to come out of that godforsaken room.â
Seungcheol is unwilling, and he doesnât really think youâll have a change of heart so quick, considering how stubborn you have been so far. But he gives in to Jeonghanâs request anyway. If youâre going to be a permanent part of his life, then Jeonghan is right. He has to keep trying.
Youâre sitting by the windowsill when he comes in today, your legs tucked to your chest as always. You look so small like this, curled against the glass, staring outside. Something scratches at Seungcheolâs chest. You really need to leave this room. Itâs a miracle you havenât gone crazy by now.
You eye him as he sits in his usual chair across the bed. The tray is placed on the table by the bed as usual, the bowl steaming. Itâs freshly made just for you. Seungcheol leans forward to place his elbows on his thighs, waiting for you to catch his eye before he speaks.
âPlease eat.â
He doesnât expect you to unfold yourself and walk carefully to the bed, sitting down and pulling the table closer to you. He sits completely still, watching you take the first spoonful. Something in him eases, like a knot being untied.
He watches you eat, watches how your cheeks flush a little when the food warms you up on the inside. Your scent, a sour tinge that has been stinging his nose every time he sees you, sweetens just a little. Seungcheol still has no clue what you actually smell like. Youâve been so on edge, so fearful this entire time, that he could never place your actual scent. He gets a whiff of it now, and itâs soft and light. Heâs sure that if you were truly happy, it would smell even better. He wonders if heâll ever know what thatâs like.
A part of him hopes he does.
You empty the bowl in minutes, and Seungcheol is already pressing the portable pager in his pocket. The maid comes in with a second helping, and he watches your eyes widen in surprise. You donât protest though, silently eating it. He wonders if youâve been starving a little since you got here. His stomach twists.
Heâs a terrible alpha.
You get halfway through the second bowl before you finally let up, pushing the tray away. He wants you to keep eating, because you being well fed makes him feel less guilty about this whole thing, but you shake your head when he says so. He decides not to push.
Once the table is cleared, Seungcheol walks to the window and undoes it with the key in his pocket. He tugs it open, lips pursing. This shouldâve been open from day one, but Mingyu has always been overly cautious. He thought you would jump out the window and try to take your own life, so he had it locked. Seungcheol thinks he needs to take a leap of trust now, especially after youâve put your trust in him by eating a meal. You both will go nowhere if he doesnât return the faith youâve placed in him.
âIâm sorry for keeping this closed.â He says. âIt will be open now, for as long as you want it. And the door will be unlocked. You can come out and look around. If you donât like this room, you can choose another. Itâs your house, go wherever you want.â
You donât say anything to him, but you do nod. Heâll take it. Usually, you donât acknowledge him at all, so this is a huge win for him. He wants to do more, make you trust him more, but he wonât push. Not yet.
He doesnât lock the door when he leaves. He can only hope that you come out of the room now.
âŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚ
The house is huge.
You didnât see any of it when you got here, considering you were carried inside with a blindfold on. You didnât even realise how massive the estate was until now, when youâve tentatively stepped out of the room. Youâre in the room at the far end of the hallway, which is probably why you had such a good view of the backyard. Thereâs more doors on either side of the hallway than you can count. You donât go into any of them, walking down the beige carpet leading to the stairs. Theyâre wide and curving down. You hesitate but step on them anyway, wary of your surroundings. So far, you havenât seen anyone else, but you can hear voices downstairs.
You find Chan in the kitchen with a plate of eggs, toast and a cup of coffee. Heâs wearing frameless glasses that rest on the end of his nose. Heâs a little surprised to see you, but he gives you a warm smile. He pours you a cup as well, and insists you drink it even when you try to refuse. Itâs warm and soothing in your throat. You sit on the stool opposite to him at the kitchen island.
âDo you work here?â You ask tentatively, unsure of what else to really say to the beta. He nods.
âAs soon as I graduated nursing school. My dad worked for his dad too. Iâm sure you know a lot of this works within families.â
You nod, understanding. After all, the father of the alpha you were promised to also worked with your father. Things like this are usually generational. Thatâs why itâs so hard to dismantle crime families. Outsiders arenât allowed. You think back to the conversation you had with Jihoon. Itâs impressive that he has managed to destroy so much of the familyâs power while being an outside eye looking in. He must be really good at what he does.
Maybe he really can help you get out.
Chan decides he wants to show you the rest of the house, so he takes you on a little tour. There's an in-home theatre, an office, and even a library. This is where you linger, feeling giddy at just how many floor to ceiling shelves are crammed full of books. You had a little reading nook back at home too, but thatâs nothing compared to this. You eye a very cozy looking armchair in the center of the room, facing the fireplace. It would feel so nice to curl up there with a good book.
The gardens at the back that you saw through the window are nothing compared to what is actually there. There are two outdoor courts, one with a net in between and one with two basketball hoops on either end.
âWe all love sports a lot.â Chan comments, pointing to small sheds near the corner, likely filled with sporting equipment. âItâs an easy way to relax and bond.â
Itâs new to you, definitely, that the family is so close to the men they work with. Well, itâs not much of a family anymore. Itâs just Seungcheol. But still, Chan even lounging around the house is strange, considering your family doctor lived off the grounds in a place within walking distance, and only came into the house when called. It seems things really do work differently here.
You sit down in one of the lawn chairs, taking a deep breath. It feels nice to step outside and take in some fresh air. Chan eyes you for a bit before stepping forward.
âMay I?â He holds his hands up to your neck. You nod slowly, tilting your head back so he can peel the bandage off your skin.
âI donât think you need this anymore.â He mumbles, eyeing the wound. It hasnât pained you in days, so youâre sure it is healed. When he steps away, you gingerly brush your hand over it. The skin is still sensitive, and will likely be for a long time, but itâs not a bother.
Chan sits with you for a while, telling you little tidbits about his life. You try to glean anything from it that might help you or Jihoon, but there isnât much. Itâs mostly stories from his university days, or the worst injuries heâs seen since he started working with the family. Youâre sure none of this will be interesting information to your new ally. Almost an hour into talking, Chanâs pager beeps. He eyes it for a little bit before standing up.
âI have to go now. Will you be okay here or do you want to go inside?â
Youâre really sick and tired of the indoors, so you shake your head. âIâll be okay.â
He gives you another smile and leaves, and you continue looking across the lush, green grounds. The wind blows softly, and it feels calming when it crosses through the strands of your hair. You feel almost a little sleepy, your body buzzing and cozy.
The wind carries with it the scent of cinnamon and oak.
Itâs all over the house, you had noticed when you first stepped out of your room. Itâs very faint, and kind of lingering, but you still feel it all around you. It laves over your skin, like something that is alive. Every wall, every brick of this house carries Seungcheolâs scent. Itâs like these objects speak for him, tell his story.
It gets denser now. Your nose twitches. You turn around.
Heâs standing on the deck, watching you. Heâs wearing a white Henley, the sleeves pushed up, his hands in his pockets. A silver chain gleams against his neck. When he sees you looking, he steps onto the grass and walks closer to you. You try to avoid his eyes. He seats himself in the chair Chan vacated, letting out a light sigh.
âGlad to see you out here.â He speaks. âDo you like the house?â
You nod hesitantly. âThe library is really nice.â
It seems to catch him a little off guard, and you realise this is the first time youâve spoken to him. You feel a little shy about how he looks at you, but he recovers quickly enough.
âThatâs good.â His voice sounds more cautious. âYou can have a closer look later. If you want to change anything, let me know.â
You nod slowly. Youâre surprised heâs willing to allow any alterations, since the library is clearly built to cater to him specifically. It flatters you somewhat, but you shake it away as best as you can.
After a bout of silence, Seungcheol leans forward and pulls out a box of cigarettes from his back pocket. You scrunch your nose when he lights it and takes a drag, the smell hitting your nose. He immediately notices.
âNot a fan of cigarettes?â He asks.
You shake your head.
He leans forward towards the table, stubbing the freshly lit cigarette into the ashtray. You blink, surprised. He doesnât say anything more. You fidget a little.
âIt just muddies your scent.â You say, trying to justify your disapproval. You donât want to irritate him. You know how these men are with their addictions. Soonyoung canât go a day without emptying a pack, no matter how much your mother used to reprimand him. He'd shout at anyone who tried to make him quit. Even Seokmin refused to stop smoking, even when you asked many times. He didnât say anything about it, but the corner of his mouth would harden in annoyance. But Seungcheol just nods.
âOkay. I wonât smoke again.â
No fuss. No irritated huff or sharp gaze, or telling you to mind your business. He pockets the box and stays seated, peering out at the grounds, not saying anything more.
Your heart squeezes a little. It kicks at your ribs. You fiddle with your fingers, trying to stop it racing. It shouldnât be a big deal, but the readiness of you making a demand, and him fulfilling it, it feels wonderful. You canât help how it makes you a little queasy, in a pleasant way.
He sits with you for hours, engaging you in conversation only sparingly, but dealing with other business as it arises. His phone is ringing constantly, and he answers it every time, his replies short and curt. Some men filter in and out of the backyard to show him something or let him know the progress on whatever business theyâre attending to. Itâs fascinating to watch. No one in your family ever brought anything related to the business back home. Not your father, and not Soonyoung. You knew for a fact that your mother knew nothing about how things worked, and neither did you. It feels invigorating to sit here like this, to not be asked to leave the room with the other omegas when the alphas and betas sit down to talk about business, swatting at you like youâre a fly. You might not understand all of it, but the fact that your presence isnât a bother to Seungcheol makes your heart flutter.
Nothing any of the men say is too apparent, you canât make sense of most of it. Seungcheol listens silently, barks out quick orders, dismisses them. You notice the difference in tone immediately. He doesnât speak to you like that at all. With you, itâs softer, more gentle. You try not to let your thoughts linger on that for too long.
A few hours later, another man comes to see him. You recognise him as the man who is with him often when you peer out from your window, the dark haired, skinny one. He appraises you with sharp eyes, the only man coming to see your alpha who has looked directly at you. Seungcheol doesnât stop him, but the sharpness of his eyes makes you a little jumpy.
âNice to see you out and about.â He quips, voice softer than you anticipated. His eyes are shrewd, as if he knows more than heâs letting on. Heâs also the first man to talk to you directly. You wonder who he is. He obviously has Seungcheolâs trust if heâs so brazen about addressing you.
He doesnât say anything more to you, sitting down on a spare chair and talking to Seungcheol extensively, a tablet in hand. His voice is low, but thereâs a lot of talk about shipments to Busan, what times they are scheduled, what routes they are taking and what goods will be on them. You stare off into the distance, trying to memorise all of it the best you can, wondering if it will be of any help to Jihoon anyway. When the man finally stands up to leave, he gives you a little smile.
âYou should be here more often, omega. Heâs calmer when youâre around.â He says. You blink, shocked.
âJeonghan.â Thereâs warning in Seungcheolâs voice, so the man, Jeonghan, just smiles thinly and walks away. As he passes you, he places a large hand on your head, patting it. It feels weirdly affectionate, and not at all what youâre expecting. Seungcheol sighs.
âSorry about him.â He mumbles. âHe means well.â
As the sky dims a little, streaks of yellow and orange break through the blue. Youâve spent the whole day lounging around outside, but itâs getting colder now as the sun goes down. Seungcheol stands up and stretches a little, the fabric of his shirt expanding as he does. The chain gleams around his neck in the golden light. You look away. He huffs out a long breath.
âLetâs go inside. Itâs cold now. And I have to leave soon to work through some things.â
You stand up and walk alongside him silently. He walks you all the way to your room, stopping briefly in the kitchen to ask that your dinner be brought up. When you get back to the room, you realise it has been cleaned, and you can see some products on the dresser top.
âItâs just some essentials.â Seungcheol explains when he follows your gaze. âThere are some clothes in the closet too. Iâll send you out with Jihoon in a few days and you can buy what you want.â
You donât really know what to say. You donât buy your own clothes, since Soonyoung thought it was too dangerous to let you step out. Whatever you wanted, you sent him pictures or let him know, and someone working for him got it for you. The thought of going out yourself is both exciting and frightening, but you try to shelf it for later.
âThank you.â You manage to get out. You arenât lying, you truly are. So far, he has done nothing to harm you. Well, except the mark marring your neck, which he put there against your will.
Heâs standing closer to you than ever before as he nods. His eyes dart to your neck. This close, he can see the mark despite your hair covering your skin. He brushes the strands back, just like he did that first time he saw you, but slower this time. His thumb brushes over the mark, and you gasp at the feeling. It sends a shiver down your spine, your nerves tingling. You flush and bite your lip when you realise the sound that escaped you is loud enough for him to hear.
Embarrassment claws at you. But he doesnât do anything, only lets his eyes pass over the mark and up to meet your stare. His gaze has darkened, more smoldering now, more charged. A long moment passes as you watch each other. The air thickens until he opens his mouth, breaking it.
âGet some rest. Dayoung will bring dinner up soon.â
His words are a mere whisper, as if he doesnât want to disturb the air around you. You nod. His hand pulls away. Your fingers curl into fists at how empty and cold it feels. He shuffles out of the door, closing it gently behind him.
You stare at it for a long time, unmoving.
âŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚ
âI donât know if any of this is going to help you.â You shake out a brown wool scarf, holding it between your fingertips carefully. Itâs so soft. Somewhere behind you, Jihoon hums, face shadowed by deep thought.
âI do know all this.â He says. âThese specific shipments and timings arenât exactly confidential information.â
You turn to give him an apologetic look. âSorry.â
He shakes his head, his face clearing a little. âNo, this is good. Heâs taking meetings with you present this early, which means he isnât hesitant about discussing business around you. He trusts you, for some reason. Probably because youâre his mate. We can use this.â
Something gnaws at you as you listen to him. âHe trusts youâ. Does he? Is Jihoon right? You stare down at the scarf again, the material slightly scrunched under your fingers. If itâs true, if Seungcheol does trust you, then why? He must know that you arenât loyal to him, even if you are his mate now. He took you by force. You donât actually belong to him, mating doesnât work like that. Omegas submit only to the alpha that their hearts truly desire. You donât desire him. You donât even know him. So how on earth can he trust you?
Maybe this is why Jihoon was able to bring the Choi empire to its knees. Maybe his brothers were trusting with everyone too, including an outsider like Jihoon. Maybe that was their downfall.
You blink, shocked by your own thoughts, by the sudden venom behind them. Youâre standing in this luxury store, free to buy whatever you want, because of that man. And youâre using his questionable trust in you to feed the very mouth that will rip the heart from his chest.
You place the scarf back on the shelf you picked it from. You canât buy it. Itâs dirty with the stain of your sin.
It becomes too many bags to carry at some point. Despite not really being who he is pretending to show himself as, Jihoon has a grand time buying you whatever your eyes even slightly linger on. Your protests donât mean much, since he says heâs under strict orders from his fake boss that you should get whatever you want, no matter how much. You feel guilty spending Seungcheolâs dime, but Jihoon tells you not to. Itâs illegal money, so you might as well enjoy it, his exact words. If anyone deserves to, itâs you.
Seungcheol sent that tall, intimidating alpha with you, who you now know is called Mingyu. He heads the familyâs security detail, and since youâre pretty much the only family, heâs exclusively responsible for looking after you. He doesnât come into the stores with you, opting to stand outside, but heâs useful because he can carry a hefty amount of bags in his arms. When he speaks for the first time, his voice is higher and more bubbly than you imagined. Itâs almost cute.
When you come back home, he carries everything to your room and dumps it on your bed. You organise all of it in the wardrobe except an oversized pashmina sweater, which you put on yourself because the material is too soft and inviting not to. Chan is nosing around the house as usual, and he pokes his head in as youâre going through all the stuff, so he joins you. He talks your head off, just like that day you were in the kitchen with him, and you just listen. Itâs nice, because he fills the silent air a little bit, almost like a radio.
Seungcheol comes to see you after sundown, just as youâre cleaning up the last of the bags.
âI think we spent too much. Iâm sorry.â You say, genuinely feeling a bit bad. But he simply shakes his head as he walks closer to where you stand in front of the dresser. He thumbs at the sleeve of your sweater, and the corner of his mouth ticks up a little.
âPretty.â He comments, and you try to will away the heat that invades your cheeks. Heâs not wearing a sweater, still in a thin dress shirt, despite the winter fast approaching. You wonder if heâs cold.
âDid you have dinner yet?â He asks. You shake your head.
âWe had a late lunch at a restaurant, so Iâm not too hungry.â You reply. The space between his thick eyebrows creases a little. He nods.
âIâm about to eat. Sit with me.â He phrases it as a statement, but thereâs question in his tone. You nod.
âOkay.â
The dining table downstairs is set up for two place settings instead of one when you follow him there. When you sit to eat, Seungcheol puts food on your plate first. You try to protest.
âJust have a little. Not a full meal.â He says, now focused on filling in own plate. You sigh and reluctantly nibble on the meat, just to appease him.
Why do you want to appease him?
âUm,â you finally speak when the silence becomes too heavy, âH-how was your day?â
It feels very weird to ask this, and you wince a little at how it sounds, even to your ear. But Seungcheolâs face softens with amusement as he looks up at you.
âIt was fine. Same old.â He replies. âBut youâre the one who had an eventful day. Tell me about it.â
You shrug. âIt was fun. Iâve never been shopping before.â
He hums. âRight. Jeonghan told me the omegas in your family donât do that.â
You nod. âWe arenât allowed to leave the house. Too much danger.â
That makes him huff a little, almost sounding like a scoff. âThereâs never enough danger to imprison someone like that. If youâre not powerful or influential enough to take care of your omegas then you donât deserve omegas.â
You feel a shiver run down your spine at the confidence in the deep timbre of his voice as he speaks those words. His eyes are focused on his meal, so he doesnât see the surprise on your face, thankfully.
âSoonyoung tried his best.â You mumble. Seungcheol sighs.
âIâm sure he did. But things are different here. You go wherever you want. Keeping you safe is my worry, not yours.â
God, you wish he didnât talk like that. Like he cares for you and wants to protect you. It makes your omega whine inside, makes your heart sing, makes something knot deep in the pit of your stomach. You know youâre staring, but you canât help it. Thereâs something very grounding about him. Sturdy. Reliable. You breathe in the notes of oak in his scent. Itâs so apt. A strong, mighty tree, resilient and stable. Like him.
âDo you get lonely in the house?â He asks, snapping you out of your thoughts. âChan says you spend most of your time in the library. You like to read?â
You nod, feeling a little excitement brew in you. âI love to read. I had a library at home too. Not as big as this, but it was comfy. You have a very nice collection here. Are they all yours?â
He shakes his head. âMy motherâs. She loved reading too. She could spend hours if not days with a book. Used to drive my father crazy.â He chuckles. ââAlways with those damn booksâ, he would say. But I know he loved that she was so passionate about them. That library is basically her entire life in one room.â
You are a little caught off guard by the revelation. Your heart squeezes. âIâm sorry, I shifted some stuff around. I shouldnât have-â
Heâs already shaking his head, looking up at you. âPlease donât be. Those books would collect dust if it wasnât for you. Youâre keeping her alive, in a sense.â
He places some stir fried vegetables on your plate. You pick one up and nibble at it thoughtfully.
âCan I ask what happened to her?â
Seungcheol chews slower now, as if thinking of the words. âPrimary MS. Took her legs first. She was on a wheelchair for a few years. Progressed upwards, her bladder, bowel, lungs, until she couldnât breathe.â
You look down at your plate, unable to bear looking at him. âIâm sorry.â
Seungcheol shrugs. âShe was happy until the very end. Never heard her speak without a laugh, even when her voice got frail.â
Seungcheol pauses, the chopsticks hovering over his plate. He stares into the distance. âMy father did too, because he didnât want her to think he couldnât live without her. But I never saw him smile a single day after she was gone.â
You blink rapidly when your eyes mist over. The air is somber, and you can practically feel the grief in it. You donât want to ask about Seungcheolâs brothers. You know they were all killed. Heâs the only one left.
You wonder how alone he feels.
âMy mother was sick too.â You offer. âIt wasnât chronic. It took her within a couple of weeks. Some lung thing. I don't really know. The doctors told us about it, but itâs hard to listen to anything after they tell you that your mother is going to die.â
Seungcheol nods slowly. âI understand.â
Maybe he does. Besides Soonyoung, you think he might be the first person to really get it. You wonder whatâs worse, watching someone you love slowly wither away, trying to come to terms with their inevitable death, or losing someone you love so quickly that you canât even process it.
You both know pain, just different variations of it.
An exasperated chuckle leaves Seungcheolâs mouth, as if he canât believe how depressing everything got all of a sudden. He shifts a little, as if to break away from the air that has settled over you like a thick blanket. You give him a tiny smile, and he returns it, eyes soft. He places more meat on your plate. You huff.
âYou said I wouldnât have to eat.â
âYouâre keeping me company.â He retorts. âIâd feel awkward if I was the only one eating. Just take little bites.â
You shake your head but give in anyway, doing as he asks. He eats seconds, then thirds, and you watch with interest as he puts it all away like itâs nothing. You can see why heâs so physically massive. He must need a lot of calories just to maintain what he looks like. He reminds you almost of a giant puppy in this moment.
When heâs finally done, he leans back and takes a long gulp of water. He eyes you when you stand up.
âYou should walk around a little.â You suggest. âYou ate a lot.â
He pouts a little, as if he deeply resents the idea of walking right now. He looks, dare you say, cute like this. You canât believe that just a few weeks ago, you were deathly afraid of him.
âCome on. The gardens are so nice at night. Letâs walk around a little.â
He gives in pretty quickly, standing up. âFine. I do feel a little bloated.â
You strangle a snort, wondering how he can say that when all you see under his tight shirt is a set of hard abs. But you remain silent as you both head out of the back door and off the deck to the rolling plains of grass behind the house.
The night is peaceful, if a little cold. Youâre glad for your sweater, and you still wonder how heâs wearing nothing but a shirt and he doesnât look bothered at all. He keeps a respectable distance between you two, his hands in his pockets. Your mind relaxes the more you walk aimlessly, drifting. Crickets chirp, the grass crunches under your shoes. Already, you can see the dew forming on the blades.
âWhat are you thinking about?â Seungcheol asks after a bout of silence.
You blink, looking up from the ground. He already has his eyes on you. His gaze still feels heavy, despite the fact that itâs on you more often now. You are not used to him.
âJust how drastically my life has changed so quickly.â You are honest with him. âI never wouldâve imagined all this a few weeks ago.â
Seungcheol sighs, looking at his feet as he walks. âI donât think I can ever take away this beginning, or make it any less painful.â
You donât reply.
âAnd I donât think I can make any excuse in the world to justify what I did.â His voice is soft, so delicate that it feels like itâs walking on a thin line. âIf I could change it, I would. If I could leave you alone for the rest of your life, not bothered by me or anyone else, I would.â
Your walking has slowed. The air fogs as it leaves his mouth when he speaks.
âBut I think,â his eyes bore into yours, âI think I canât leave you alone. Or maybe I donât want to. I want to see you every day if I can. If youâll let me.â
Youâve stopped walking, standing stationary on the grass. Thereâs distance between you, but you suspect that there really isnât. That feeling of something crawling under your skin, itâs less shaky now, more solid, steady.
Itâs him. You feel him.
You stay outside until your hands are numb. Even the weight of your expensive sweater canât keep the cold out, but warmth seeps in your bones, larger than life, all encompassing, a certainty.
For decades, the Choi family has dominated the underground trade and criminal enterprise of Korea, and largely, Seoul. But the Choi sons start dying, until all thatâs left of the empire falls to Seungcheol, the last Choi son. There is a new competitor rising to take over his territory, and Seungcheol is desperate to do anything to keep his dying empire alive.
Biting and mating with his competitorâs sister, a sheltered, treasured omega, might just be the drastic measure he has to take to keep his hold.
pairing: alpha!choi seungcheol x omega!reader
genre: omegaverse, mafia au
word count: 11.8k
warnings (for this chapter): swearing, fluff, omegaverse jargon like scenting and biting, member x member, angst, betrayal, anger, lying, manipulation, self doubt. descriptions of psychological and emotional abuse and control.
series masterlist
Seungcheol decides to show you his office on a random Tuesday morning.
Youâre barely out of bed when heâs knocking on your door and asking you to get ready to come with him. Youâre a little shocked that heâs doing this, but youâre excited nonetheless, mostly because you love leaving the house now that you can. Youâre also very curious about the place where Seungcheol spends nearly twelve hours a day. So you get ready to leave quickly while Seungcheol waits downstairs.
You run into Jihoon in the hallway as youâre leaving your room, and he is quick to remind you to keep your eyes and ears peeled for anything that can help him. To be fair, youâre still not quite sure what exactly youâre looking for, what Jihoon needs, but this time when he reminds you, it makes a tendril of guilt wrap around your throat, a sickening feeling that you canât shake away.
Things with Seungcheol have beenâŚâŚ stilted. You feel like youâre walking a tightrope when it comes to him, balancing on the thin line between hating him and not wanting to be without him. You have dinner together every night, and then you walk around the gardens together. The colder it gets as the weeks pass, the closer you want to be to him. Youâve realised he runs very, very hot, which is why he doesnât feel the chill and walks around in just one or two layers. When you curl under the blankets at night, you wonder how good it would feel if he was there too, warm and inviting against your back.
You donât know if itâs the mark on your neck that makes your omega want him, or if itâs just you.
You arenât exactly experienced in romance. Seokmin is the only alpha who you have ever thought of in this way. He was warm too, but a different kind. He was bright, dazzling almost, like someone who can carry your happiness as well as his own. Seungcheol is more muted, still warm, but the kind that makes you settle instead of bristling up. The kind that wants to give all his happiness to you instead of carrying any himself.
You identify with him, in a twisted, tragic way. It shouldnât make sense. Youâre poles apart, both in who you are and what youâve been through. But when he looks at you, something in his eyes resonates. You want to be around him all the time. The same thing he said to you that day. That he wants to be around you. It makes your chest squeeze with giddiness.
Seungcheol is standing on the front porch, his phone held up to his ear, when you finally exit the house. He gives you a smile as he talks to whoever it is on the phone, gesturing to Mingyu, who is standing by the car. You say hello to the alpha as you walk towards where he stands.
âYouâre coming with us, right Gyu?â You ask. Youâve grown fond of Mingyu over time. Heâs very intimidating at first glance, but heâs the sweetest person youâve ever met. His omega will be very lucky. He nods.
âWherever you go, I go.â He says simply, giving you a smile.
You donât have to wait in the car for long, as Seungcheol joins you minutes later and the car peels out of the driveway. Thereâs another right behind you, with Mingyu inside, following right after you. You peer out of the window as you leave the estate and travel to the city.
The Choi family actually has a very successful legitimate business outside of their underground activities, as Chan told you some time ago. Itâs a tech company, one of the largest in Seoul, and it provides a very easy front for everything else they do. Youâre sure if Seungcheol wasnât dabbling in illegalities, it would still be very good, but what makes the empire great is everything shady that augments it and nearly quadruples its fortune.
The building is huge, in the middle of the business sector, and frankly intimidating. Seungcheol is quick to guide you inside, his office all the way on the top floor. Thereâs someone sitting at a sleek desk outside Seungcheolâs door, the phone receiver pushed between his cheek and ear as he quickly scribbles something into a notebook. He looks up as you arrive, looking at Seungcheol first before he spots you, eyes widening as he takes you in.
âSeungkwan, messages in five minutes.â Seungcheol mumbles, tapping the reception desk lightly with his knuckles. The man nods rapidly, still talking to someone over the phone.
Seungcheolâs office is massive, spanning over an entire corner of the building. The marble floor gleams, just as the mahogany desk does. There are framed certificates on the walls, some pictures you canât see clearly from afar, two bookshelves, one that holds thick volumes of something about business as well as tiny trinkets, and another with a wide array of different books. To the right of the actual office, two steps lead down to a sitting area with grey and white couches, a coffee table and shaggy rugs.
âItâs beautiful.â You manage to say, truly in awe of the space. The windows span two whole walls and give a birdâs eye view of the city. Youâre so high up it almost takes your breath away. When you turn to look back at Seungcheol, heâs smiling at you, hands in his pockets.
He nods his head towards the corner of the room created by the bookshelf that overlooks the windows. An armchair is fitted into the corner, tilted to the side so whoever sits in it can enjoy the view. It is draped in a soft, fleece blanket, with a smaller table beside it already set up with a plate of sweet treats and a coaster to hold a mug. You gape at it, beelining to the chair immediately.
âYou have a reading nook in your office?â
Seungcheol shakes his head. âI had Seungkwan put it in a few days ago. For you.â
Your head whips around in shock. You canât believe it. Seungcheol watches you process it, and you take a shaky breath when you realise heâs serious.
âThank you.â You manage to whisper. You truly donât know what else to say. His actions are so loud that itâs deafening. He wants you here, with him, because seeing you for maybe an hour when he gets home isnât enough. He made sure to create a space within his own that would make you feel comfortable. He didnât have to do this. He couldâve just dragged you along and told you to stay, and itâs not like you could refuse. But he took care to accommodate you in the best way he could.
You almost want to cry.
Seungcheolâs nod is a little jerky, and you can see even from the distance that his ears are turning pink. You look away, fighting not to smile.
The receptionist, Seungkwan, comes in a few minutes later when Seungcheol is settled behind his desk and youâre browsing the bookshelves. He has a tablet in his hands and three different sticky notes on his arms. He walks Seungcheol through his agenda for the day, the messages he has, and appointments that need to be scheduled with his approval. When you scent the air, youâre shocked to find out that heâs an omega.
Once he is done with Seungcheol, he turns and walks closer to you, offering you a hand to shake.
âHi.â His smile is radiant. âBoo Seungkwan. Itâs nice to meet you.â
You canât help but return his smile. Itâs contagious. This close, you can see a pin in his blond hair that is shaped like a tangerine. Itâs so cute. Under the collar of his shirt, you spot a mating mark similar to yours. Oh.
âY/N.â You manage to speak. Seungkwan nods.
âItâs so nice to meet you, finally. Seungcheol never stops talking about you.â
You canât help but giggle as you hear Seungcheolâs annoyed huff behind Seungkwanâs back. Seungkwanâs hand is soft and warm in yours as you shake it.
âIf you need anything at all, donât hesitate to tell me, okay?â He adds. You nod again, grateful.
âGet her a coffee please, Seungkwan.â Seungcheol mumbles from where heâs poring over a stack of papers. âCream and sugar.â
Your face feels hot as Seungkwan nods and leaves quickly. You have never had breakfast with Seungcheol. You havenât even touched coffee with him around, only with Chan in the mornings, yet somehow he knows how you like your coffee.
Seungkwan comes back a while later with not only coffee but banana muffins as well. Seungcheol refuses when Seungkwan sets food down at his table too, which makes Seungkwan pout and insist.
âI donât want a cupcake.â Seungcheol scowls at the screen of his computer. Seungkwan rolls his eyes.
âItâs a muffin, first of all. And second, it wonât kill you to feel a little joy.â
âWill you shut up and leave if I agree to eat it?â
âYes.â
âOkay. Shut up and leave.â
Thereâs no malice in either of their voices. You watch the interaction from your armchair in amusement. They feel like brothers who bicker and not like a secretary and boss at all.
âSeungkwan is very nice.â You say when itâs just the two of you again. Seungcheol looks at you and gives you a brief smile.
âHe keeps me sane, frankly. He takes care of all the above ground business. Heâs pretty much running it at this point. I donât know what I would do without him.â
You feel a twist in your stomach, and it shocks you. You reprimand yourself in your head immediately. Seungkwan is mated. You canât be thinking negatively about him like this. But praises for another omega from your alphaâs mouth make you feel queasy.
âI saw that heâs mated.â You manage to say, trying to rid yourself of the ugly green emotion inside you. Seungcheol nods, unaware of the war in your head.
âTo Mingyu.â
That shocks you. âReally?â
He nods again, eyes focused on the screen. âThey met through Chan, who has known Seungkwan since they were kids. Thatâs why heâs so good at what he does. Heâs been around for years, and he knows how to juggle both sides of the business. Heâs family.â
The nausea inside you immediately settles. Seungkwan being Mingyuâs mate is the best news you have gotten all day. You sip your coffee, relaxing into the chair, staring at the cover of the book you picked out. If you werenât so lost in your own head, you would see Seungcheolâs tiny smile as he picks up the slight sourness in your scent. Youâre jealous of Seungkwan, even though youâre trying to hide it.
The thought makes something in his stomach squeeze.
The day goes by at an even pace. Seungcheol leaves the office often for the conference room on the other side of the same floor to attend meetings, making sure to let you know each time how long it will take him. You appreciate the consideration, since being alone in his office does make you a little anxious. Around noon, when heâs in another meeting, the office door opens, and instead of Seungcheol, an unfamiliar man steps in. He has dark, brown hair thatâs cut short at the sides, and you immediately spot a silver ring wrapped around the helix of his ear.
He smiles when he sees you, but he doesnât look surprised at all, like he expected you. âHi.â
You donât smile back, turning to your book, shifting slightly. You donât know who this person is, and you donât know why he is here, so you would rather ignore him. You donât trust anyone who works for Seungcheol. You arenât even sure if you trust Seungcheol himself. He certainly shouldnât trust you, considering the little scraps of information you are feeding to the person hell bent on destroying him completely.
You try not to think about that.
âYouâve settled in well.â The man comments, walking down the two steps and dropping down heavily on the couch. Heâs chewing gum obnoxiously loud, and itâs like nails on a chalkboard for you. The couch is closer to where you are, but his scent is still not too strong. Heâs a beta.
You jerk your head down in a nod, staring down at your book without really reading. After a few moments of silence, the man chuckles a little.
âI can smell your discomfort all the way here, omega.â He says.
You stiffen at his words, but you donât look up. You donât really know what to say to him, so you stay silent. You canât stand up and leave, because you will have to walk past him to do that, and you really donât want to. Seungcheol should be back from his meeting soon. Youâre not sure he will be too happy about a stranger talking to you like this.
If he even cares.
âIt was your brother, you know.â He says. You freeze. âHe was too big of a threat. He had to be taken down a notch, so Seungcheol mated you to keep your brother on a leash.â
Your grip on the book tightens to the point that the page crinkles under it. Your heart hammers loudly, and your breath is caught in your throat.
âWorked out great. Hoshi wonât dare expand now. Heâll have to make do with whatever scraps we leave for him.â
The sound of the door opening is loud, and it breaks this thick, dreadful current that runs in the room. You quickly turn your head away towards the window when you smell cinnamon and oak, hoping Seungcheol wonât see the thin film of tears coating your eyes.
But he looks distracted. Heâs got his phone pressed to his ear, Seungkwan holding up a file for him to sign, and when he catches sight of the man on the couch, he immediately scowls and gestures to him. The man stands up smoothly, greets Seungkwan with a smile and nod, and puts a hand on Seungcheolâs arm to lead him out of the room again, probably down the hall to the conference room. Seungkwan follows them silently.
Seungcheolâs voice, still talking on the phone, gets farther and farther before disappearing altogether. You sit like a statue where he left you. A single tear breaks free from your lash line to roll down your cheek as the manâs words echo in your head.
You feel a little stiff as you lower your feet to the ground and stand. Before you can think twice, you beeline to the desk. The computer is still on, and the desktop is filled with multiple tiny icons.
You donât sit down. Reaching for the mouse with shaky hands, you start clicking and reading.
âŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚ.
âI canât thank you enough. Really.â
The wind nips at your ankles. You wish you had worn socks. Jihoon waits for you to say something. You donât.
âI know it canât be easy, giving me all this information.â He says, softly. âBut trust me, youâre doing the right thing. Once I tell my superiors, we can plan something and stifle his operation once and for all.â
You stare blankly down the backyard. The sun is setting, the sky angry with hues of red and orange. You wonder if you are seeing anger in the clouds because that is what is brewing in the pit of your stomach. The strange manâs words are still fresh in your head, like heâs whispering them to you right now.
Seungcheol wanted nothing to do with you. You were a means to destroy your brother. Thatâs all.
âHow long will it take?â You ask.
Jihoon looks a little uncertain, shifting in the lawn chair he is occupying. âIâm not sure. We will send some men to verify the schedules you gave us. Extensive stakeouts at the locations you told me. Our timing needs to be exactly right if weâre going to intercept the exact ships you mentioned. That cargo has to have his paws all over it. If thereâs any doubt about who is calling the shots, then his men will take the fall and he will get off scot free.â
You sigh, a little dejected. âWhy are they all so loyal to him?â
Jihoon shrugs. âBeats me. Theyâre all like that. Ready to lay down their lives. I donât know what he is holding over their heads.â
He stands up then, giving you an encouraging smile. âIt doesnât matter though. We donât need any of them. You gave me everything I could ever have asked for. You did good.â
You donât say anything, watching him leave, the cold grass crunching under his boots. You stare at his back, feeling your heart sink.
You, the only one to ever betray Seungcheol.
You know youâre doing the right thing. He took away your agency, he used you for his own personal benefit, knowing he was destroying your entire life to do so. Why? Because he wanted more money? Because of greed that made him crush all your hopes and dreams in the palm of his hand?
You couldâve had it all. You couldâve been Seokminâs omega. You couldâve lived a good life with him. He could have mated you, given you pups. You would still be able to see Soonyoung every day, considering that the two were best friends. You couldâve had a family.
Now youâre just sitting outside this unfamiliar house, feeling nothing but cold.
When the maid comes up to your room later to tell you dinner is ready and Seungcheol is waiting, you are wrapped in blankets. You tell her that youâre not feeling well so you canât make it down. When she leaves, you try to get some sleep, but your thoughts, the contradictions inside you, plague your mind like poison. More thoughts creep in, the anger mixing and swirling now with doubt.
For every single day after he marked you, Seungcheol has given you no reason to hate him.
You know now that he brought you here not because of you, but because of your brother. You are nobody to him. He couldâve locked you up in a shabby basement cell and called it a day. But he didnât. From day one, he has cared for you. Through Chan, through Mingyu, through Dayoung. Even through Jihoon, though he doesnât know that Jihoon isnât who he thinks he is.
And through himself, with all those dinners, walks and conversations. He has opened up to you, trusted you with what goes on in his mind and in his business. You have felt his touch, although very fleetingly, on the mark on your neck or the small of your back. You have smelled him, the scent of cinnamon and oak now ingrained in your very bones.
Why would he do any of that, if you were nothing but a pawn in his game?
You hear the door open, and you smell him immediately. You stay very still, closing your eyes. You hope he will see that youâre asleep and leave. You hear footsteps walk closer to the bed, then a dip in the mattress by your side. You donât move. Thereâs a small, light sigh, and then Seungcheol finally speaks.
âI know youâre only pretending.â
You can feel your jaw clench.
âFor some reason, you donât want to be around me.â He keeps going. âI donât know why. Maybe taking you to the office was too much. Youâve been quiet ever since the afternoon.â
A pause. âIf someone said anything to you, tell me. Theyâll answer for it, I promise.â
A shiver runs down your spine. Slowly, you open your eyes.
Seungcheol is perched on the edge of the bed, his suit jacket discarded, and the sleeves of his plain blue shirt rolled up. Heâs watching you already.
âTell me what happened, sweetheart.â
The petname makes your chest flutter a little. You finally speak.
âTell me why you mated me.â
You assumed he would be shocked by your words, that he would try to lie to you, but his exhale is one of resignation.
âOne of my biggest trade markets is at Busan Port. Over the last few years, because of what happened to my family, we lost pretty much all routes except Busan. All my men were diverted there to keep the trades going. They moved their families down there and settled. Then, your brother started sneaking into my operations and attacking my ships. Killing my men.â
You donât interrupt him, watching his face closely.
âIf I didnât do anything, all those men out there would lose their lives, their families abandoned. Even most minimally, they would lose their only source of income. Jeonghan suggested I hit Hoshi where it would hurt the most. You.â
He stares blankly at the wall. âKilling you to send a message wasnât an option. Only this was.â
A shake of his head. âI didnât want to. I knew I was sacrificing you, but in my head, I thought I could justify it if your sacrifice saved hundreds of families. I regret the way I did it, but I donât regret having you as my mate.â
His eyes meet yours, pleading, pained. âI donât know how to apologise for what I did. I donât know how to make it up to you.â
You look at him only for a few more seconds. Then, you let your eyelids fall shut.
âYou should have just killed me.â
You canât see it, the way his face crumples, or the way he blinks rapidly against the wave of wetness that coats his eyes. He looks away, hands balling into fists.
âIâm sorry.â
He stands up and leaves before you can say anything else.
âŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚ.
On your twenty-first birthday, your mother told you that your father had been speaking to his advisor, and they would both love for you to be mated to his son.
You were shocked, to say the least, but not in a negative way. Seokmin was one of Soonyoungâs best friends, so by extension, he knew you pretty well too. He had always treated you kindly, unlike any other rare alpha that managed to cross your path at your home. He was a little condescending at times, but that is an unsurprising trait in your familyâs alphas. They are all assholes, but Seokmin didnât look down on you, and he treated you with respect from the moment he knew you as a child as well as into adulthood.
You were okay with him as a life partner. You were happy, even. And from what Seokmin always said, he was happy too. He came to the house more often after it was made official with your families, with flowers or sweets or anything else he thought you might like. He never touched you, never kissed you. You think a part of him might have felt awkward that youâre his friendâs sister. So he always made sure you were comfortable first and foremost. He gave you a bracelet for your twenty second birthday almost nine months after your official betrothal to him, a courting gift. You wore it every day, only taking it off to sleep or to bathe.
You forgot the bracelet on your bedside table the day Soonyoung shook you awake and rushed you out of bed. The day Seungcheol came.
You often wonder about him now. Three months since you were mated to someone else. Youâre absolutely sure he knows. Youâre sure everyone in Seoulâs underground circle knows by now. Seungcheol is a big name. The last Choi son. This canât be hidden news for anyone.
You wonder how he feels about it.
Seungcheol doesnât ask you to come with him to the office after that night. He doesnât ask you to join him for dinner. You stay in your room, not feeling any desire to leave. You wallow in your emotions, that now feel like theyâre too big to even fit inside your mind. Sometimes you think you might sink into the earth under the weight of them, swallowed up until youâre suffocated, no longer able to breathe.
You miss him.
Just the thought makes your mind twitch and squeeze, pained. How can you miss him? How can you even think about the earth and the oak, the feeling of his hand warm on your back, or that little dimple that tugs on his cheek? He ruined your life. You should have no feelings towards him other than raging, burning discontent.
But then you see the bite mark on your neck in the mirror, and you miss the way he ran his thumb over it, and the shiver that traveled down your spine when he did that.
Two weeks after that night, you hear a knock on your door early in the morning. Youâre brushing your teeth, body going rigid when you walk out of the bathroom door to see a head poke into the bedroom. Jeonghan looks amused, watching the way your mouth is foaming, your eyes wide like a deer caught in headlights.
âGet dressed, doll. Twenty minutes. Pack an overnight bag.â
He doesnât say anything more, disappearing as quickly as he had appeared. You donât have any opportunity to question him, and you suspect he did that on purpose. Your heart hammers as you move quickly. An overnight bag? Why the hell do you need that? You havenât been away for the nightâŚ.. ever. Not since the day you were born, and even your birth was at home.
You fret over what to pack, so you just shove as much as you can into a small luggage bag you find in your closet. True to his word, Jeonghan is back in exactly twenty minutes on the dot. He nods and takes the luggage, gesturing for you to follow him. Hesitantly, and with a little bit of nervousness, you do.
Youâre happy to see Mingyu outside, and he gives you a bright, comforting smile. You think he knows that you and Seungcheol arenât doing well, because heâs extra gentle as he helps you into the car. And he might sense your jumpiness too, because just before closing the door, he leans down to look at you.
âRelax.â He whispers.
You nod slightly, comforted by the fact that heâs there. Jeonghan climbs into the car on the other side, immediately sliding down a little to rest his head on the back cushion.
âGet comfortable.â He says. âItâs a long journey.â
âWhere are we going?â You ask, because you donât know if you should have followed him, even if Mingyu is there. Seungcheol isnât, and that puts you a little on edge.
âBusan.â
Your heart pounds. You did not expect that.
Jeonghan is busy almost the entire time, answering multiple phone calls and making notes on his tablet. You know how involved he is in the business. He is Seungcheolâs right hand man. From what Jihoon has told you, he is as important to the empire as Seungcheol is. He is to the underground dealings what Seungkwan is to the legal side.
He also makes you incredibly nervous, but you donât really want to tell him that.
You drive for around four or five hours. You shift often, wincing when your hips and legs start aching a little. You arenât used to traveling. Jeonghan seems unbothered, but he digs into a bag and offers you snacks. You watch out of the window for most of the time, engrossed in the view and deep in thought when Jeonghan finally says, âWeâre here.â
Through the open window, you can hear the sound of the sea. Jeonghan isnât on his phone for once, and he points things out for you as you drive into the city. The view is spectacular. Waves crash white against rocky cliffs, and fishing boats drift in and out of small harbors. Haeundae Beach stretches wide and bright, its sand pale gold under the sun. High-rise hotels line the edge like glass towers watching the tide. Busan is mountainous, so the city rises and falls in steep layers, hugged tightly between the rising hills.
You drive for a little longer, after which the car pulls down the coast and up a winding, narrower road. You canât even begin to keep track of the unfamiliar drive, so you focus only on whatever you can see. Finally, the car stops in front of what looks like a beach house, a muted wooden pathway going through the sand to the steps leading up to the front door.
Jeonghan opens his door and gestures for you to get out as well. You wince as your limbs straighten, but youâre too preoccupied by the sight and smell of the beach, fresh and cutting against your lungs. You take a deep breath, feeling almost invigorated after the sleepy ride.
A man is walking down the steps towards where you and Jeonghan are. Heâs wearing light clothes, breathable so as to let the wind in. Thin, wire-rimmed round glasses sit in the bridge of his nose. He gives Jeonghan a grin and a pat on the back in greeting.
âThis is Wonwoo.â Jeonghan introduces him to you. The man gives you a muted smile. Clearly an alpha, but he looks nearly docile. You manage to smile back at him.
From the car behind yours, Mingyu steps out, stretching and groaning. He grins when he sees Wonwoo, walking to him and giving him a crushing bear hug. The man groans.
âWonwoo runs things out here in Busan.â Jeonghan leans towards you to mumble. You watch Mingyu and Wonwoo scuffle around and laugh with each other. âHe also takes care of the house for when Seungcheol visits.â
âThis is Seungcheolâs?â You ask, staring up at the place. You shouldnât be surprised. Itâs not as grand as the home back in Seoul, but thereâs a very cozy, very light and welcoming vibe to it. You think you might actually prefer this one to the house you live in.
Jeonghan nods and gestures forward, guiding you inside. The other two men follow. âYouâll be staying here for the night. Wonwoo, you set a room up for her?â
Wonwoo nods. âEnd of the hall. Iâll show you.â
Jeonghan hums. âWe can rest for a bit before heading out again.â
You go along with Wonwoo when he gestures at you to follow him. The place is very well maintained, almost like a fancy bed and breakfast. The room at the very end of the hall is where he stops, opening it with a key and asking you to step in. You do.
Itâs very neat, cleanly made. Itâs obvious no one has touched anything for a while, but a very faint, familiar scent lingers.
âThis is Seungcheolâs room. Best one in the house. It has a great view of the sea.â Wonwoo says, pointing to the window. Heâs right, the scenery is breathtaking. You bite your lip. Of course you will stay in Seungcheolâs room. Youâre his mate. You donât suppose Wonwoo knows the exact circumstances or where your relationship stands with his boss. So you simply nod.
Mingyu drops your luggage off, and they both leave you for a while. Mingyu tells you they will go out for lunch in two hours, and you assure him you will be ready. You lay down on the bed, staring at the ceiling, wondering why the hell Jeonghan brought you here.
A couple of hours later, you are walking down the long and wide wooden pier overlooking the Gamcheon Port of Busan, Jeonghan and Wonwoo right in front of you and Mingyu behind you. You shiver a little as the wind blows, making your skirt flutter against your legs. It carries with it the smell of sea salt that stings pleasantly at your nose. You cross your arms, taken aback by how blue to water is, how colorful the boats are, and how far it extends, more than your eyes can see.
Many men greet Wonwoo and Mingyu enthusiastically, more stiff when it comes to Jeonghan. When you give Mingyu a questioning look, he jokingly tells you that everyone is always a little nervous when it comes to Jeonghan. You giggle at the thought.
âIâm not the only one then.â
Mingyu laughs.
The port is lively, bustling, with people trudging back and forth with unmarked boxes. The sailors are loud as they toss cargo into and out of their ships. Wonwoo is holding a tablet in his hand, pointing and gesturing as he gives Jeonghan a rundown of everything, most of which you donât understand. Thereâs a gaggle of what look like young boys laughing and singing as they work, and you try to tamp down your smile at how cheerful they sound.
They all watch you, curious.
You know their eyes are on you, but the second you turn their way, their heads abruptly jerk to the other direction. It makes you feel a little jumpy and uncomfortable, and when you ask Mingyu why theyâre acting weird, he snorts.
âThey wonât dare look at their bossâs mate. Not in the eyes, anyway.â He says, casually. âSeungcheolâs a naturally possessive person. Even convincing him to let you come down here was a whole thing. Not because itâs dangerous, no. This is his territory, no danger here. But because thatâs too many alpha eyes on you. Heâs protective of whatâs his.â
You shiver a little, caught off guard by Mingyuâs words. You didnât expect that Seungcheolâs dislike for people ogling his mate would translate even when heâs not here in person. You canât help but think of how it speaks volumes of his authority that heâs hundreds of miles away, yet no one here would dare do anything that could tick him off.
You remember Jihoonâs words, his frustration that all of Seungcheolâs men are willing to lay their lives for him. So much loyalty, but why?
Jeonghan is gesturing to you where you stand, beckoning you to him. Heâs going back up the pier with Wonwoo, and you rush to follow him. Down the path from the docks, they lead you into a small, rickety looking building, with a wooden sign that has a fish carved on it.
âIt doesnât look like much,â Jeonghan whispers to you, âbut Seungcheol always stops by here during every trip. He fucking loves spicy fish stew and grilled mackerels.â
The place is really modest, and completely empty. You suspect they cleared it out because they knew Seungcheolâs men from Seoul were coming. Thereâs an elderly woman sitting at the counter, who looks up when the tiny bell above the door rings, signaling your entry. Her face breaks into a large smile.
âHannie!â She gets up slowly, her figure slightly hunched as she shuffles around the counter. Jeonghan is already taking long steps to meet her there, bending down to let her hug him. Itâs a warm sight, and you canât help but smile. When they break the hug, the woman reaches up and smacks Jeonghan hard on the head, making him wince. You canât help your gasp.
âNearly four months since Iâve seen your face, boy.â You had no idea her frail voice could sound so stern. âIâm that easy to forget about?â
âNot at all, halmeoni!â Jeonghan whines, whines, as he rubs his head, and you twist your mouth so you wonât grin with amusement. âI was just really busy.â
She scoffs, spotting Wonwoo right behind Jeonghan, who just shrugs sheepishly.
âAnd Seungcheol? Where is that fool? I have a bone to pick with him. Took a mate and didnât even tell me-â
âSheâs here, actually!â Jeonghan is quick to interrupt her. You stiffen, feeling dread creep on you as Jeonghan walks back to where you stand. You widen your eyes at him, as if to say âdonât you dareâ but he just gives you a mischievous grin and steps behind you, grabbing your shoulders and nudging you forward a bit. You smile shakily.
âGood afternoon!â Your voice is way higher than normal. Behind you, you can hear Mingyu snort. You wish you could kick him.
The woman blinks, eyes huge behind her thick rimmed glasses. You fiddle with your fingers nervously as she eyes you for a second. Then, her face breaks into a large, warm smile.
âWell, arenât you just the most beautiful thing Iâve seen in years.â Her voice is so soft and inviting. Behind her, Wonwoo grins. You blink a few times, feeling your cheeks warm.
âCome and sit, honey. What are you standing there for?â She gestures you forward, ushering you to a low table in the center of the room. Your heart is still racing a little, but you sit down regardless, crosslegged on the mat. The woman sits down with you.
âLet me look at you.â She says. You just smile politely and fidget a bit as she stares. Youâre not used to being around elderly people. You never knew your grandparents. But thereâs such a comforting air about her, like coming home after a long day. You canât help but feel a bit at ease. She tuts a little after a few moments.
âThat fool doesnât deserve you. Canât even come and see his halmeoni, didnât even tell me about you. Heâs just like his father.â
You blink, realisation hitting you. Is this Seungcheolâs grandmother?
Before you can reply to her, sheâs already rising to her feet again, flustering about getting food made quickly, and that she wasnât expecting you. The other men seat themselves around the table as she disappears behind a curtain, but Mingyu follows her to the back, offering his help.
âIs that really his grandmother?â You ask Jeonghan, eyes wide. He smiles and nods.
âBut-â You have so many questions, you donât even know where to start. You stare around at the place again, how ancient it looks, how nondescript. Jeonghan chuckles.
âShe hates Seoul. Says she canât fathom living in the place. She wanted to stay by the coast, something about not being able to sleep if she canât hear the sea. She never moved down there, no matter how much Seungcheolâs father insisted. So he just stopped. This is the safest place in all of Busan, right next to the port. The place is teeming with our men. No one can harm her here. The family just tried their best to make it here every other week to visit. Itâs become a bit tough when itâs just Seungcheol running everything now, so he hasnât been down here much. I kind of get why sheâs mad.â
He shrugs and rubs his head again. It really was a hard blow. You huff out a breath.
She comes back quickly, Mingyu in tow holding a large, steaming pot. She shoos at Jeonghan to move so she can sit beside you, and you smile shyly when she fills your plate herself.
She asks you all about you and Seungcheol, and you try to keep the answers as moderate and easily digestible as you can. Sheâs so incredibly sweet, filling Jeonghanâs plate too, gesturing for Mingyu and Wonwoo to eat as well. You canât possibly imagine telling her the circumstances of your mating, so you just tell her that Seungcheol knew your older brother, and thatâs how you met. She coos over the story, and Jeonghan looks on in amusement as you smoothly lie through everything she asks.
When she fills your plate for seconds, you politely try to refuse, but she just tuts and swats your hand away.
âYou need to eat more!â Her voice is stern, but you can hear her love and concern bleeding through. âLook at you. Is he not feeding you right? That fool. You canât carry his pups like this!â
You flush at her words, effectively going silent and just letting her pile on as much food as she wants. Itâs not difficult to eat even more, since it really is absolutely fantastic. If you were Seungcheol, you would drop everything to come down here, if only for how delicious her cooking is.
You stay there for a long time. Dinner is followed by dessert, and then the men have to tend to some business. She takes you out back to a small garden, proudly showing you all the vegetables she has planted. You enjoy her company, genuinely, because the longer you stay with her, the more you learn about Seungcheol.
âYou know, his mother was convinced she was having a girl.â She whispers to you almost conspiratorially. âShe had all these pretty dresses made. Even chose a girlâs name. And then poof! Out popped another boy.â
She chuckles. âShe couldnât let it go. So she would keep treating him just a little bit like a girl. She would coddle him so much! My son always told her to tone it down a bit, but she didnât.â
She tilts her head as if in thought. âSometimes, Iâm glad she didnât. I think the reason Seungcheol is so caring now is because he was never forced to be the big, bad man.â
You are silent as she speaks, trying to absorb her words. She takes your hands gently, staring down at them. Hers are wrinkly, more soft, more scarred. The contrast makes your heart squeeze.
âI donât know what it is, but you are a little mad at him.â She says.
Your eyes go wide. When you open your mouth to protest, she gives you a stern look.
âI may be old, but Iâm not a fool. Something is stilted between you. But thatâs okay. It will fix itself, because you are his mate. The mark might just be on you, but know this, child, he is yours just as much as you are his. He might be the alpha, but you call the shots. You tell him what to do, you tell him what you want, and he will fold. Trust me. I know that boy. He will give his life to protect his mate.â
You donât know what to say, so you just stare at your hands in hers. You are hit by a wave of sadness, sweeping over you as her words float in your head. How do you tell her the reality of whatâs really happening? How do you tell her that you are struggling to trust him?
And how do you tell her that he absolutely cannot and should not trust you? Not when you are about to be the singular agent of his destruction.
You are still lost in your head as you say your goodbyes to her. The sun has completely set now, stars twinkling over the curtain of the dark sky. She gives you a shawl, a deep maroon, soft cloth that feels glorious against your skin, and you thank her. She kisses your cheeks.
âDonât be a stranger.â She smiles. âAnd next time you come, bring that idiot with you.â
You canât help but laugh, nodding. Jeonghan is waiting outside, Mingyu and Wonwoo nowhere to be seen. He gives her a hug too, promising to come more often, and then you both trudge back to the docks, waving at her one last time.
Your chest feels heavy as you walk. You pull the shawl tighter around your shoulders.
âJeonghan?â Your voice is weak.
âHm?â
âTell me about Seungcheol.â
He hums, not at all surprised by your request. It seems that nothing really catches him off guard.
âI met him in college.â He begins. âI knew of him way before then. My father worked for his father. You know how it is, generational bonds.â
You nod.
âBut I really, properly met him in freshman year. The first thing I thought of him was how boisterous he was. Smart, but loud. He walks into a room and immediately makes his presence known.â
You nod. Itâs true. Seungcheol has that aura about him.
âBut I didnât count on how insightful and perceptive he was. He doesnât seem like the type, you know? Heâs rough around the edges. But heâs caring. He cares. Sometimes, I think he cares too much. I tell him he canât survive in this life like this. But I think his care is why it all somehow works for him.â
âIs that why everyone is so loyal to him?â
Jeonghan smiles down at you. âI think so. On principle, most crime families arenât overly involved in the lives of their men. Most of the time, someone works for you and you pay them. Simple. But SeungcheolâŚâ
He huffs, but itâs more amused than anything. âHe wants to know what his men are up to, what they need. He feels personally responsible for all of them. Itâs a huge weight to carry, but he still does it. Thereâs a fight in him to make sure the people under his name are all cared for, even if it means making sacrifices.â
âThatâs why he marked me.â You mumble.
Jeonghan hums. âHe regrets it, you know? Every day.â
You stop at the pier, watching the port. In the dark, the lights twinkle as people still move around, wrapping up for the day and preparing the night shipments that need to roll out. At one of the boats, Mingyu is laughing with a man you donât know, helping him lug a huge crate. Someone drops something and curses, his partner bonks him lightly on the head.
âThatâs why you brought me here.â The cogs in your brain are turning. âTo show me what he did all this for.â
Jeonghan nods. âI know things havenât been good with you two. And I suspected they wouldnât get better if you just stayed in that house all the time. You needed to come out here. You needed to see why he did what he did.â
The breeze blows over your body again, cold and nipping. But you remain warm under the weight of the shawl, and the feeling that blooms in your chest as you watch on. You donât say another word, and Jeonghan doesnât push on it. He stands with you, hands in his pockets, as you both bask in the cool night air, letting the salt fill your lungs.
âŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚ.
When you re-enter Seoul the next afternoon, after another five hour car ride, you ask Jeonghan to take you to Seungcheolâs office and not home. He merely nods, but you can see the little uptick of his lips. He makes a call, and when you pull up to the high rise tower, you find Seungkwan waiting for you at the entrance.
âHi!â He chirps, his smile as bright as ever. You canât help but return it. It softens when he sees Mingyu, who lays a quick kiss on his mateâs forehead. He hasnât seen Mingyu in over a day as well, considering he was with you in Busan. Your heart flutters at how cute they are.
Seungkwan and Mingyu lead you up, standing quietly in the elevator with you. You realise you havenât seen Seungcheol since that night, when you told him you would rather be dead than be with him, and guilt tears at your ribs. You spent all of last night wide awake in his bed in Busan, asking yourself over and over where you want to see your life going. And after everything youâve seen, everything youâve heard from people, and the very limited time youâd spent with Seungcheol yourself, you had come to a conclusion.
You want to at least try.
You know youâve made a huge error by telling what you did to Jihoon. But you can come clean about it. You can tell Seungcheol the truth and apologise. They are just shipment dates. Youâre sure Jeonghan can change them, shift them around so that Jihoon is thrown off and back to square one. You can tell them all the full truth and pray that Seungcheol will forgive you.
âRelax.â Mingyu says suddenly, breaking the silence in the elevator. He always does that, tells you to relax when he can feel that youâre nervous. And strangely, knowing that someone senses your anxiety, acknowledges it, does help. You swallow tightly.
âWhat if he doesnât want to see me?â
Seungkwan scoffs. âThatâs ridiculous. Heâll be thrilled. Heâs been looking like a kicked puppy for the past couple of weeks.â
You managed to laugh shakily at that. Your heart hammers when you step out of the elevator. Seungkwan nods at you to go ahead, so you walk towards the office, standing at his door. You take a deep breath before tentatively knocking. You hear a distracted hum of affirmation, so you open the door and poke your head in.
Seungcheol looks shocked to see you, his hands freezing over the keyboard. He blinks a few times.
âHi.â Your heart is hammering so loud, you wonder if he can hear it. âCan I come in?â
âOf course.â He replies immediately, standing up. You step inside, looking around a little. Everything is just as it was when you first saw it.
âDid you just get back from Busan?â He asks.
You nod. âYeah. We uh, we came straight here.â
You try not to flush hot at the confession, but you can see his own ears color pink, and that eases you a little.
âI met your grandmother.â
Seungcheol groans. âI bet she had a lot to say about me not visiting.â
âShe smacked Jeonghan.â
That makes him laugh, his stiff shoulders easing a little. You feel your lips lift in a tiny smile. He watches you for a few moments.
âAre you hungry?â
You shrug. âA little.â
âOkay. Thereâs a good place not far from here. Iâll have Seungkwan-â
âIâll eat if you eat with me.â
He freezes, head raising to look at you. You feel a bit embarrassed, being bold like this. But your guilt and your need to make things right is pushing you. So you keep plowing forward.
âI want to apologise for what I said that night.â You stare at your feet, feeling nervous. âI was too harsh on you.â
Seungcheol shakes his head. âPlease donât. You had every right.â
You let out a mirthless laugh. âI was justâŚ. angry. I was very angry.â
He nods solemnly, silent.
âI want to forget about it.â
You can see the moment his eyes soften, beautiful melted chocolate orbs. He nods more resolutely this time.
âThereâs nothing I would like more.â
Seungkwan makes a call, and almost an hour later, youâre sitting in the balcony of a beautiful restaurant not too far from Seungcheolâs office. Thereâs no one else on the balcony, though there are people eating inside. He rented the whole space out. You love the view, and the fresh air. You tell him about your Busan trip, how much you loved the beach house and how calming you found it.
âIt would be so wonderful to live there.â You say offhandedly, but Seungcheol nods with complete seriousness.
âWe can do summer trips. The beach is wonderful around that time.â
You raise an eyebrow at him. âI thought you didnât have time to go down there?â
He shakes his head, a small smile on his face. âIâll make time.â
Your stomach erupts in butterflies. You donât know what to call this feeling.
The moment is tranquil, with soft wind blowing through your hair and Seungcheolâs eyes warm as they look at nothing but you. Itâs almost like you were never apart from Seungcheol at all, and conversation resumes from where you left off. You are so relieved, so happy about it, that you convince yourself you will talk to him tomorrow, tell him about Jihoon and what you did. You canât destroy this moment right now. You just made up with him. You donât know if you could bear his hurt.
The fatigue of the drive starts catching up to you when you return to the office, so Seungcheol calls Mingyu and tells him to get the car ready to take you home. He walks you out himself, helping you into the car as Mingyu climbs into the passenger seat.
âYouâll come see me when you get back?â You phrase it like a question. Seungcheol smiles and runs a delicate thumb over your wrist. It makes you shiver a little.
âOf course, sweetheart.â
You donât stop smiling the entire way back.
âŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚ..
Things settle into somewhat of a routine for a while. You donât go to the office with Seungcheol, but you visit in the afternoon and ask him to have lunch with you. He always makes time, even if it is while eating in his office instead of driving somewhere. It warms your heart that he is indulging you like this, even though he is unbelievably busy. He bids you goodbye after lunch with a smile and the softest touch of his fingers brushing the scent glands on your wrist. When you hold it up to your nose and inhale later, you can smell cinnamon and oak. It makes you giddy.
The end of a business quarter is approaching, which keeps both him and Seungkwan very occupied. You donât know when to bring up the Jihoon thing, your fear and the circumstances making you hesitate. Briefly, you entertain the idea of telling Jeonghan instead, but you quickly dismiss that. For one, you know Seungcheol will feel some type of way about you going to Jeonghan with this instead of him. And for another, a part of you is still very nervous around Jeonghan. So that option goes out of the window.
You restart your evening ritual of dinner and a walk in the backyard. The winter chill is breaking a little, so itâs more pleasant outside now. It is on one of these walks that you bring up to Seungcheol something that you have been mulling over in your head for a long while.
âI have a favor to ask.â
Seungcheol hums. âAnything.â
You hesitate, feeling how your heart is pounding. Seungcheol must sense it, because he stops your walk with a light touch on your hand, tilting his head so youâll look him in the eye.
âAnything, sweetheart.â
So you bite your lip hard, and then you speak.
âCan I see Soonyoung?â
Seungcheol blinks, as if he didnât hear you right, and then he lets out a light laugh. âYour brother? Of course.â
You gape at him. âReally?â
He gives you a reproachful but gentle look. âWhen have I ever stopped you from doing whatever you want?â
Thatâs a good point. Seungcheol doesnât really care about where you go during the day. His only requirement is that Mingyu be with you, so you can remain safe. You have been exploring the city for a few weeks now, since you were never allowed to before. Often on these trips, you remember your mother, who spent her whole life in your childhood home. You wish she could see what is out there, how much the world has to offer. You often wonder why your family operates so differently from Seungcheol's, why you never had the freedom there that you have here.
Nevertheless.
Youâre both excited and nervous to see your brother again. It has been months, and you think youâve fundamentally changed as a person since the last time you and Soonyoung were in the same room. Seungcheol makes some calls, and two more security men, a beta and an alpha, join Mingyu this time. He assures you it means nothing, itâs just about security, since the situation with Soonyoung is still a bit volatile now that he is forced to stop using the Busan Port for his trade. You accept it in stride. Frankly, you werenât expecting to see Soonyoung at all, knowing that if you made any demand like this in your family, the answer would be a resounding âabsolutely notâ, so you wonât be difficult about anything that will make Seungcheol feel at ease.
When your car pulls up into the driveway of your old home, you drink in the sight hungrily. You missed it so much. Itâs not nearly as big as the new one, but grand regardless, and associated with a million memories. You did spend your entire life within its four walls until very recently. Returning to it feels heavy but bittersweet.
Soonyoung is standing outside, waiting for you along with a few of his men. All of them have guns strapped to their fronts, probably as a show to send a message to Mingyu and the rest of the security team. You donât care though, because the second you see your brother, tears spring into your eyes. You rush to him, letting him envelope you in a crushing hug. You can hear his mantra of âthank god, thank godâ mumbled against your ear. You let yourself cry on his shoulder.
He pulls away to look down at you, and his eyes immediately shoot to the large mark on your neck. He scowls at it, lip curling in distaste. You wipe your eyes and smile at him.
âIâm okay, Soonyoung.â
He nods, albeit a little stiffly, but ushers you inside with a sure arm around your shoulders. You turn to look at Mingyu, who only smiles and nods at you to go, knowing he will be waiting outside with Soonyoungâs men.
âYouâre really okay?â Soonyoungâs voice sounds a little hoarse, and up close, you can see the dark circles under his eyes. Your chest pangs.
âIâm great Soonyoung, really. Iâm fine.â
He sighs, visible relief washing over his features.
âI was so sure he wouldâve torn you to shreds by now.â
You laugh a little. âHe wonât do that. Iâm his mate.â
Soonyoung scoffs and flops down on the couch. You sink into the familiar cushion beside him.
âLike he cares.â
âHe does care, surprisingly.â You smile at your brother. âIâmâŚ.. happy.â
Soonyoung looks a little shocked. âYouâre happy? With him?â
You nod, caught off guard when you see his face twist again, this time in anger.
âAnd what about Seokmin? Did you forget you already have an alpha?â
You blink, taken aback. Soonyoungâs tone is accusatory, like youâve done something wrong. You donât appreciate it.
âSeokmin was never my alpha. He was courting me. I wasnât his mate. Seungcheol mated me. What the hell did you want me to do?â
Soonyoungâs eyes narrow at your tone. âWatch it.â
You grit your teeth. âYouâre implying that Iâm in the wrong here. Iâm trying to make the best of a terrible situation I was put in.â
âYouâre betraying your alpha.â
You bark out a laugh. âSeokmin is not my alpha.â
âHe might as well have been. The only thing missing was the mark.â
âThat mark means something.â
Soonyoungâs eyebrows pull together, eyes darting between yours as if heâs trying to figure you out. âWhy are you giving me so much lip? What the hell did he do to you?â
âI donât know what that means, but he didnât do anything. Iâm fine. Better than I have been in ages, actually, since I can set foot outside the house.â
Soonyoung rolls his eyes. âRight. That. The fact that he even let you come here proves heâs a shit alpha.â
You grind your teeth, feeling very irritated. âHe knows he can protect me.â
One corner of Soonyoungâs lip lifts in a little sneer. âSure.â
You donât like his tone. And you almost regret coming to see him. You stand up.
âI think I should leave.â You mumble, feeling disappointment curl in your chest, an ugly emotion. Soonyoung sighs.
âI donât mean to sound like an asshole, Y/N. You know I love you. I want nothing but the best for you.â
You sigh, feeling your shoulders slump as he continues.
âHe is not the best for you. Seokmin is. Seokmin has always been.â
You shake your head. âIt doesnât matter anymore, Soonie. Iâm Seungcheolâs now. Itâs done.â
He stares into space. âRight.â
His tone of voice sends a little chill down your spine, but you ignore it. You donât like the way heâs acting. You know better now, after being exposed to so many alphas on a daily basis, like Jeonghan, Mingyu, even Wonwoo, however briefly you met him, and you donât appreciate being talked down to, especially not by your brother, who has been doing it his whole life. Something you always considered normal until you learned that itâs not.
âIâll see you around, Soonyoung.â You mumble. He sighs and nods, but he doesnât stop you, silently standing up to walk you out. It seems heâs not a fan of your new attitude either.
Mingyu is a little surprised that you didnât stay for longer, but you just shake your head and pile into the car. You werenât expecting this either, but you canât stay if all Soonyoung is going to do is level you with more condescension and judgement. Especially for something that wasnât your fault. You remain silent as you stare out the window, running over the interaction in your head.
âEverything okay?â Mingyu asks cautiously. You clear your throat and nod.
âCan you take me to the office?â
âOf course.â
You turn your head back to the window, resting your forehead on it and closing your eyes.
For the longest time, you idolised your brother and the life you lived before all this. You would wake up in the mornings and have breakfast brought to you in bed. Every day would be a lazy day, getting up very late and taking all the time in the world to get ready. As you think back on it, you realise that was probably because you didnât have much to do at all, so every action, every part of the day, had to be dragged out in order to get through it. You remember spending so much time either reading or conversing with your mother as you sat on your patio. Towards the end of the day, your father and Soonyoung would get back from work, usually in a foul mood, scarfing down dinner before turning in for the night. Sometimes, Soonyoung would watch a movie with you, and if you ever asked him how his day went, he would just put a large, comforting hand on your head, replying shortly.
âNothing you need to worry about, kiddo.â
You thought you were so lucky to not be involved. Soonyoung and your father cared so much that they never wanted to expose you and your mother to the life they lived. Itâs only after your talk with Soonyoung now that you realise; when you keep someone in the dark so much, you can easily just tell them what to do and they will listen.
In Soonyoungâs mind, you will still listen to him and his judgement, just like your mother always taught you. âListen to your brother, he knows bestâ. But does he? What does your brother even know about your life now? How can he know that Seungcheol treats you like a partner, an equal, while caring for you to the best of his ability, and not like something that needs to be shut away, never to see the light of day?
The second you opposed your brotherâs opinion, he turned sour with you. And that tells you everything you need to know about how he sees you. About how he has always seen you.
Your heart hurts.
Seungcheol stands when you enter his office about half an hour later. You can see the little line between his thick eyebrows, showing his worry. Mingyu probably told him your visit was cut short.
âWhat happened?â He asks. You shake your head, walking behind the desk and wrapping your arms around him tightly. You can feel him stiffen for a second before relaxing, his arms heavy and comforting as he hugs you back. You feel his heartbeat against your ear, regular and calm. It eases your nerves after being unable to get Soonyoungâs cold expression out of your head the entire car ride here.
âTell me what happened, sweetheart. Iâll fix it.â
You laugh a little and shake your head as much as you can with it still pressed to his chest. You feel like choking down tears as you think of Seungcheol and his need to fix anything that goes wrong in your life. You breathe in his scent, letting it wash over you, grounding you like it always does.
âThereâs nothing to fix. Iâm fine, I promise.â
He sighs at the reassurance. You donât know how much he believes you, but youâre glad that he doesnât press. You sway a little, holding each other tightly. After a few minutes, you huff.
âI know I have to let you get back to work, but I donât wanna let go.â
His body shakes as he laughs. It makes you smile.
âAlright. Come here.â
You yelp when his arms slide down to your thighs, lifting you up. You instinctively cling to him, afraid to fall. He takes a few steps back until heâs sinking into his office chair again, settling you in his lap, straddling him. You flush at the position, but then his left arm wraps reassuredly around your waist, pulling you close until your head is resting on his shoulder. Your omega preens, and you tuck your arms to his chest, settling. Your heart is still racing a mile a minute, but this feels right.
Seungcheol goes back to work, the keyboard clacking away in the quiet of the office. He answers the phone a few times, and Seungkwan comes in to have him sign some things and look over more schedules. You hear him softly tell the omega to cancel any meetings he has. You doze in his arms, warm and comfortable. Your nose is so near his scent gland that all you smell is him. When he speaks, his voice reverberates in his chest, and you can feel it on your skin. Heâs so warm, like he always is even in the dead of winter, and itâs so easy to be lulled into peaceful, dreamless sleep.
When you wake, everything is eerily silent. You blink a few times, assaulted by a familiar scent, and you realise you are still in Seungcheolâs lap. Except now, youâre practically draped over him. You lift your head to look up, and Seungcheolâs face is tilted to the side, eyes closed and mouth parted slightly as he sleeps. The back of the chair is adjusted to lower it more, so heâs almost lying down on it, you on top of him. You turn to look the opposite way, mouth dropping open.
Itâs nighttime, the dark sky visible from the floor to ceiling windows. The lights in the office are dimmed too, except a lamp on Seungcheolâs desk and another on the coffee table in front of the couches. His computer is turned off. You canât hear a single sound from outside. Everything is quiet.
You feel a large, warm hand cup the back of your head and push down, making you lay against his shoulder again.
âGo to sleep.â His voice is rough and throaty. Your heartbeat picks up a little.
âWe can just go home.â
He wraps his arms around you tightly. âDonât feel like moving.â
You canât stop your grin even if you wanted to. You close your eyes, relaxing against his body again. Just before you drift off to sleep, you feel a pair of lips brush lightly over your forehead.