lost in a dream & falling fast

le - 20+ - writer of fics

[ttatteuthae]

welcome~

mostly using this space to share fics I’ve originally written for myself.

groups:

txt, ateez, ahof

common tropes i use:

poly, omegaverse, hurt/comfort

canon/idolverse (member reader)

occasional mafia/fantasy/dystopia au

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[ttatteuthae]

4: the illusion of eden

poly txt x you

genre: dark romance; mafia omegaverse au

full list of tags/tws on ao3

wc: 5610

summary: In the bedroom, you're domestic. In the boardroom, dangerous. And when Taehyun missteps, you and Soobin are happy to demonstrate to that pack what happens when one of you forget who you belong to.

a/n If you thought the last chapter had a lot of smut, here's some more with slightly more plot with it I guess? Is the relationship looking a bit morally dubious? Yes. Do they also happen to be not very ethical people who commit violent crime? Also yes. Please mind the tags. I am a slave to feedback so if you (hopefully) enjoyed reading this, let me know. reblogs/comments = fic getting updated faster :) Thanks for reading!

masterlist

Morning comes soft.

The bedroom glows in the early light, white linen curtains shifting in the breeze from the cracked window Kai left the night before, golden sun pooling across the foot of the bed like spilled honey. Somewhere outside, a bird sings. Somewhere deeper in the house, security guards switch shifts. A phone buzzes and goes ignored.

The bed holds six.

Your pack is still asleep around you, limbs tangled, skin warm, breath steady. The mess of last night lingers faintly in the air: sweat, slick, blood, salt. The scent of sin. But it’s sweetened now by sleep, by morning skin and shared warmth, by the absence of danger.

You lie on your side, head cradled on Soobin’s bicep. His other hand rests low on your waist, fingertips splayed possessively, as though someone might steal you in the quiet hours before daylight dares to speak. Yeonjun breathes at your back, a steady rhythm, his arm thrown over your hip.

Kai’s curled near your legs, face buried against your thigh.

Taehyun sleeps in the corner of the bed, half off the mattress, fingers still brushing your ankle. Beomgyu is a tangle of limbs and hair and half-twisted blankets across the remaining space, his mouth open slightly.

No one mentions the bodies buried under warehouses.

No one talks about the men who screamed.

Today is domestic. Mostly.

Today, you are just an omega, loved and spoiled, wrapped in silk and adoration and far too many hands.

Kai stirs first.

His lashes flutter against your thigh, and he hums, high and soft, as he nuzzles closer. Then he looks up at you, eyes swollen with sleep.

“Wanna take a bath,” he mumbles. “We smell like sex and murder.”

You smile faintly against Soobin’s skin. He’s not wrong.

Soobin doesn’t open his eyes but mutters, “Then run it.”

He does.

You hear the water in the distance, Kai padding barefoot into the master bath, the tap hissing as hot water pours into porcelain. The scent of cedar oil wafts into the room a few minutes later. Then lavender.

Yeonjun kisses the back of your neck before he even opens his eyes.

Soobin groans, arm flexing around your waist as he finally stretches. His cock is hard against your hip, but he makes no move. Not yet at least.

“Come on,” Beomgyu mumbles, burying his face into the soft skin of your belly. “Before Kai drowns himself in bubbles and uses all the expensive salts.”

“You’re the one who keeps drinking the salts,” Taehyun says, voice rough, rising slowly.

Beomgyu lifts his head just enough to pout. “They taste good.”

“You taste like chemicals and regret.”

“Still came in my mouth last time.”

“I was drugged,” Taehyun snaps, and Soobin sighs.

“Bath.”

You rise slowly, with help. You wince, your thighs sore, your hole tender and leaking slightly still, but no one hurries you. You’re carried between them, and when you step into the marble bathroom, the tub is steaming and full.

Kai’s already in, chin resting on the edge, sporting a lazy smile.

You slip in after him, and the others follow. Yeonjun pressing behind you, Soobin opposite, Taehyun to your left, Beomgyu settling half into your lap with no shame, arms around your neck. The water is the perfect temperature.

They wash you in silence.

Lathered hands slide down your back. Fingers trace your hips. Someone, probably Taehyun, washes your hair, his fingertips gently rubbing your scalp until your eyes close. Yeonjun rinses your chest with a bowl, lifting it slow, letting water cascade over your skin. Kai giggles as bubbles foam between your legs.

Beomgyu presses kisses to your jaw, slick with soap. “We should stay here all day.”

“We have business,” Soobin says. But even he doesn’t try to get up.

You lean back into them.

None of you speak about the blood still under Soobin’s fingernails, or the bullet wound Beomgyu stitched, or the new body that will surely show up in the harbor with nothing but a gaping hole in his ribs from Yeonjun’s knife.

Today, you are just a pack. A filthy rich one, yes. A little brutal, maybe. But clean, at least in this tub.

Soobin shifts his hips beneath the water, just enough for his cock to brush against your thigh. He’s still hard. 

You feel it. He knows you do.

His eyes are closed, head resting against the porcelain lip of the tub. The others speak softly around you, idle morning banter about market numbers, an upcoming foundation gala, whose turn it is to attend the board meeting with the Culture Minister. Clean things. Public things.

But Soobin hasn’t moved. Not even to ask.

He won’t. And you know that.

Not when he’s already had you. Not when you’ve bled for him. Not when his mark is still healing on your throat. He’s soft for you that way.

So you reach for him.

Your fingers curl under the water, ghosting over his lower stomach, the cut lines of muscle beneath his skin gone warm and wet. You feel him twitch. Just once. But he doesn’t open his eyes.

You wrap your fingers around him.

He groans, so quietly you feel it more than hear it. A sound that melts beneath the surface like everything else he doesn’t say.

You pump him slowly, wrist flicking under the water. The others continue their soft conversation, Kai talking about the color scheme for the new investment building, Beomgyu whining about having to wear another tie.

Only Yeonjun notices.

He shifts behind you, lips brushing your shoulder as he exhales. You feel the faintest smile against your skin.

"Good wife," he whispers.

Soobin’s head tilts slightly. His lips part.

You keep stroking. Long, smooth pulls, your thumb dragging up the underside of his cock. The water stirs faintly, steam curling around your shoulders. His hips flex once, then still. But you feel the tension. The tight coil beneath every muscle in his body. The silent need.

“Open your eyes,” you murmur.

He does.

A god trying not to tremble.

Your hand doesn’t stop.

He exhales, chest rising, and the water laps at the sides of the tub as his breath stutters. You lean in, your lips grazing the shell of his ear.

“You can’t go to the meeting with your cock this hard, oppa.”

His hand snaps under the surface, gripping your wrist. Just to feel it. The slick slide of your palm, the control he lets you have right now.

You smile.

"Let me take care of it."

He comes with a sharp breath, his cock pulsing in your hand, the heat of it lost beneath the water but felt in the way he exhales, in the way his fingers curl into your forearm, in the look he gives you as you lean back again, satisfied.

There’s a silent question behind his eyes. Shall I take care of you too, darling? You shake your head, still too fucked out from last night. Maybe later.

He sits up, adjusting himself beneath the water, perfectly composed again. Finally, Soobin gets up.

“We leave in twenty minutes,” he says, and steps from the tub.

Water slides down his chest, his hair slicked back by someone’s hands.

The others follow, some slower than others. Taehyun already has a towel in hand for you, Kai offers you a robe. Yeonjun kisses your cheek without a word. Beomgyu groans dramatically but rises anyway.

You stay seated a moment longer, skin pricked with cooling heat.

They’ll put on their suits now. They’ll step into the black cars. The skyscrapers. The conference halls.

Faces of men who do clean business.

But you know.

And they do, too.

So you let Taehyun help you up and towel you off. Let Kai slide the robe over your shoulders. Let Yeonjun dry and brush your hair while Beomgyu picks out what you might like to wear.

The silk you choose is ash gray, high-necked, long-sleeved, tailored perfectly to skim the shape of your body without suggesting anything too carnal. It drapes down your spine like smoke, delicate pearl buttons at your wrists, your scent muted beneath layers of polished propriety.

You sit at the vanity as Taehyun smooths his tie.

Your mark is still red, Soobin’s bite fresh at the curve of your throat. If you were going somewhere else, you might have left it as it is. But you have a role to play. It takes three dabs of concealer and a strand of hair drawn just so to make it vanish from sight.

“You don’t have to come,” Taehyun says without looking at you, adjusting his cufflinks in the mirror. He’s right. You don’t have to. But you want to.

You smile faintly, brushing a final touch of powder across your cheek.

“I’m not going to speak.”

“That’s what worries me.”

Soobin waits for you at the elevator.

He’s dressed in charcoal wool, a three-piece suit, the silver watch you had made for his last birthday on his wrist. The CEO of Choi Holdings. Untouchable. Beautiful in the way only power is.

Kai stands just behind him, tablet already in hand. His suit is light blue today, playful and precise, the color chosen because it makes the investors think he’s harmless when he most definitely is not.

Yeonjun wears black, of course. Tailored. His sunglasses will stay on indoors. He’s meant to be your shadow. The silent threat that stands behind you and promises consequences if anyone but your pack dare to look too long.

Beomgyu’s in navy, two buttons undone, grin crooked, gun holstered beneath his coat like it belongs there, because it does. He winks when he sees you step into the elevator, then hums under his breath.

“So pretty it’s criminal.”

You say nothing. Just smile, small and serene. Because that’s the kind of omega that the public will see. The kind of omega you want them to see.

It takes twelve minutes to reach the tower.

You glide across the marble floors of the conference level with Soobin’s hand on the small of your back. Taehyun peels off to speak with a Minister’s aide. Kai begins typing the moment they enter the room. Yeonjun flanks the doorway. Beomgyu leans against the wall with his arms crossed and the bored look of a man who already knows where the exits are.

And you?

You sit beside Soobin.

You do not speak.

You listen.

The boardroom is glass and steel, cold in the way that wealth has made it. They greet Soobin with soft bows and careful smiles. They look at you like you’re a decoration brought along to soothe him. A pretty prize. A pet spouse.

You fold your hands neatly on the table and let them think that you’re as inconsequential as all the ornaments they each brought with them, whether alpha, beta or omega.

Because the best thing about being an ornament is this:

They forget you listen.

The Finance Minister's secretary says something she shouldn’t. You take note of names, locations, timelines all while nodding at her with the blank look of an omega who’s only here because his alpha wanted some arm candy to show off.

And because some of the ornaments talk. Thoughtlessly. A quiet dig is made at the Chairwoman’s personal security. A coded reference to an illicit asset, shared casually over green tea because you look like someone who wouldn't understand what that even means.

You nod along. Sip your tea. Smile gently.

Later, in the elevator, Soobin speaks without looking at you.

“What did you hear?”

“Everything,” you say simply.

His hand finds yours.

You do not have to report it to him now. 

That’s Kai’s job, to log every interaction of note for all of you to debrief later. It’s Yeonjun and Beomgyu’s duty to act as the hired guards while the public remains none the wiser of how their names strike fear into the hearts of those who’ve committed crimes so violent they make breaking news. And while you stay silent and let the unknowing spill their secrets, it’s up to Taehyun to use his words to loosen the lips of those who think they have more power than they actually do. Even if he did let the Minister’s aide a little too close for the pack’s comfort.

But that will be dealt with later.

Right now, you’ve done what you needed to do. Let them think you insignificant. Because that’s exactly the part you played for them.

You’re just the thing that listens.

And whispers what matters when the masks are taken off.

The hotel suite is too bright.

Floor-to-ceiling windows bathe the space in gold and glass, city lights beginning to bloom against dusk. A bottle of bourbon rests untouched on the credenza. The silence in the room is not casual.

You’re already seated, legs crossed, back straight, robe belted but slightly parted at the thigh. Yeonjun is by the window. Kai sits on the arm of your chair, tablet in his lap.

Beomgyu paces. He’s smirking, but there’s no real joy in it this time.

Soobin stands behind the sofa, hands clasped neatly.

Taehyun walks in last. He’s late. The Minister’s aide had asked for a private conversation. You know that he wouldn’t do anything. But she did. And he, thinking it would be in the best interest of getting the information needed, encouraged it. All of you can smell it.

The moment the door closes, Soobin’s voice cuts through the space.

“Take off your tie.”

Taehyun stops. Blinks slowly.

He still looks flawless, jacket crisp, hair perfect, expression unbothered.

You’ve seen him this composed while laundering billions. While interrogating. While holding a gun and shooting someone between their eyes.

But even he goes still at Soobin’s tone. Because he smells like he let someone touch him and they weren’t you or Kai or Beomgyu or Yeonjun or Soobin.

“…Hyung.”

“Now.”

Taehyun obeys.

His fingers move slowly, sliding the silk from around his throat. He doesn’t look at anyone. He folds the tie in half, then quarters it.

Soobin gestures once.

“Give it to me.”

Taehyun steps forward. Hands it over.

Beomgyu laughs under his breath.

“I told you,” he says, too loud, too amused. “I told you flirting back was stupid. You think no one noticed how close that aide got? How she touched your fucking lapel?”

Kai doesn’t laugh at the comment. Just waits.

Soobin takes the tie.

“Why didn’t you move?”

Taehyun’s voice is calm, but too even.

“It was a play, hyung. She—she wasn’t a threat.”

“No,” Soobin agrees. “She wasn’t.”

His hand moves so fast the crack of the slap echoes off the windows.

You jolt, breath caught.

Taehyun’s head snaps to the side, his face still stoic, but his cheek is red.

“She wasn’t the threat,” Soobin says again, voice low now. “You are. When you forget who you belong to.”

He tosses the tie at your feet.

“Come here,” you say softly.

Taehyun’s eyes finally meet yours.

He kneels.

Of course he does.

You pick up the tie. Guide it around his throat. Pull it tight just to remind him who’s allowed to touch.

“You don’t flirt,” you murmur, looping the knot high beneath his jaw. “You don’t allow yourself to be touched.”

“I didn’t—”

You tug.

He chokes quietly.

Beomgyu groans, low and eager.

Kai leans in. Whispers, “Let us help?”

You nod once.

Yeonjun doesn’t speak, but steps forward.

Soobin moves to stand at your back.

And Taehyun kneels at your feet, hands behind his back now, tie taut around his throat, his mouth parted in the beginning of surrender.

It’s not about causing pain. It’s not about correction, that’s Soobin’s to handle, not you. It’s about reminding your beta, again, exactly who he kneels for.

The tie pulls taut between your fingers.

You watch Taehyun’s breath catch as you guide it up, just enough tension to force his chin higher, make him look at you. The red across his cheek has faded now, replaced by the subtle flush of shame, of need.

He kneels in silence, his knees spread just enough to betray the thick swell of arousal beneath his tailored slacks. His posture is perfect. Hands behind his back. Shoulders set. Every line of him is immaculate.

Still, you shake your head.

“Too proud,” you murmur. “Even now.”

Soobin steps forward, sleeves rolled to his elbows, the elegance of his suit disturbed only by the hunger in his eyes.

“You belong to this pack,” he says, standing directly in front of Taehyun. “To me. And to him.”

Your fingers twitch on the tie. Taehyun lowers his gaze immediately.

Soobin undoes his belt slowly.

He doesn’t speak again. Just lowers his slacks and boxers enough to free his cock, half-hard, flushed, already leaking at the tip. He won’t admit it but it always makes his blood run hot when he watches you remind a wayward packmate this way. He grips Taehyun’s chin, thumb pressing to his jaw until he opens his mouth obediently.

Then he slides in.

You feel the shift in Taehyun’s breath as the head of Soobin’s cock presses against the back of his throat. He doesn’t gag. Not yet at least. But his thighs tense, chest rising shallow. His spine trembles, control fraying.

“Let him suck you slow, oppa” you say. “Let him feel it.”

Soobin obeys. He fucks Taehyun’s mouth with calm, controlled thrusts. He doesn’t rush, just carries out the deliberate correction of a disobedient beta being taught what happens when he oversteps. His fingers remain in Taehyun’s hair.

Behind you, Kai moans softly.

Yeonjun watches from the shadows, his arms crossed, unmoving. His eyes never leave the line of Taehyun’s throat as it bulges around Soobin’s cock.

Beomgyu has already undone his pants. Palming himself through his boxers, he laughs quietly. “Told you,” he mutters again. “So cocky. But he melts when hyung uses him like this.”

And he does.

Taehyun’s lips are swollen, wet, saliva pooling at the corners of his mouth. His eyes water.

He needs this.

He needs to be put back in place.

Soobin presses in deep.

Taehyun chokes, his first real sound, and Soobin holds him there just long enough to make the lesson last. His cock throbs against the back of Taehyun’s throat before he pulls free with a wet sound. He doesn’t come. Doesn’t give Taehyun the satisfaction.

You tug the tie once.

“Good,” you murmur. “Now show us who you really belong to.”

Soobin steps back.

Taehyun sways. His hands remain behind him. He doesn't look at anyone.

You rise from your chair and step in front of him.

"Take out your cock."

He hesitates,

"Now."

He obeys.

His cock is flushed, wet at the tip, desperate. He pants softly as the cool air hits him, as he kneels there, tie wrapped around his throat, face red, chest rising fast.

“Don’t touch yourself.”

Your voice is soft now. 

“You don’t get to use your hands. Not after today.”

His cock twitches.

Beomgyu exhales. “Fucking hell.”

“Let him watch us,” Kai whispers, eyes bright.

You let your hands trail down Kai’s chest slowly, letting Taehyun see. Letting the others watch. You press a kiss to Kai’s neck as you glance down at Taehyun again. Then you pull away to lean down and whisper to the beta.

“You’re going to come on the floor, untouched, while you watch Kai-oppa fuck me” you say. “You needed Soobin-oppa’s cock in your mouth before you remembered who you were. Who you belong to. That was the correction. And this, this is your penance.”

Taehyun moans. Quiet. Like he hates how easy it is.

Kai is already reaching for you.

His hands come to your waist as you approach, his pupils blown wide, mouth slightly parted.

“Sit on me,” he whispers.

And you do.

You straddle him slowly, knees sinking into the plush couch as he pulls you down into his lap. You let your weight settle, let the heat of him spread between your thighs. You reach between you, take his cock in your hand, it’s already flushed, wet at the tip and you guide it to your slick entrance.

Kai moans as you sink down.

“Fuck—Omega—"

His cock slides in too easily, your hole swallowing him with the kind of practiced stretch that makes him shake. His hands fly to your hips, fingers splaying wide.

You roll your hips once.

His head falls back.

The others move around you but only slightly. Yeonjun stays where he is, arms folded, jaw tight, the bulge in his pants impossible to ignore. Beomgyu’s grin is lazy now, his cock still out, stroking himself slow and steady as he watches. Soobin sits, silent, his eyes never leaving where your bodies meet.

Taehyun remains kneeling. Breathless, red-cheeked and unable to look away.

You ride Kai slowly at first.

Long strokes, your thighs flexing as you bounce steadily on his cock, letting him feel every inch of your body claim him. Your fingers curl around his neck. His arms wrap around your waist.

His voice is breathless against your collarbone.

“I love you like this,” he whispers. 

You don’t answer.

You moan.

You grind your hips down harder, your slick coating his thighs now, your mouth falling open as you fuck yourself on him, use him.

“God, look at him,” Beomgyu hisses. “He’s gonna come just from being used.”

“I want him to,” you breathe. “I want him to come in me.”

Kai cries out, his head burying in your neck as his cock pulses inside you.

He comes hard, trembling against you. 

Spilling inside your soaked hole as you rock down one last time and hold him there, his cock twitching deep inside you, his breath shattered.

You don’t move right away.

You let him wrap around you.

Let his body soften.

Let the others watch.

Because this, too, is power.

And it’s yours.

Taehyun looks at you and you know he’s close.

You lean over and tighten the tie slightly.

“Eyes on me.”

He does.

And he comes.

Just like that.

Thick spurts across his own thigh, onto the floor, body trembling as he gasps, broken.

You kneel slowly in front of him as the final tremor leaves his body.

Your palm comes to his cheek. He leans into it.

“I forgive you,” you whisper. “Because now you remember.”

Sweat dampens his collar. His come stains the floor in neat splatter. His breath catches when you kiss his cheek and leave him still on his knees.

Kai shudders beneath you, arms clinging too tightly around your waist, breath stuttering against your neck as the last pulses of his orgasm taper off. You hold him for a moment longer and press your lips to the crown of his head.

Then you stand slowly.

His cock slips free with a slick sound, and the mix of his come and your slick drips down your inner thighs, cooling against your skin. Kai gasps softly, eyes wide as he watches the mess trail down your legs.

You say nothing. You just stand there.

Chest rising slowly. Thighs slick. Robe hanging open now, parted around your hips. Everyone watches.

Beomgyu’s grin is gone.

Yeonjun’s eyes are dark, unreadable.

Taehyun’s face is flushed, but he doesn’t move. He knows not to.

And Soobin?

Soobin leans forward in his chair, elbows braced on his knees, sleeves rolled neatly to the elbow. His gaze trails from the base of your throat, down your chest, your hips, your thighs to the slick between your legs.

He hums.

Then crooks a finger.

“Come here.”

You stop in front of him, the top of his thighs brushing your knees. He doesn’t look up right away. Just runs one hand up your inner thigh, palm flat, spreading the mess Kai left there, smearing it higher.

“You let him come inside you.”

You nod.

Soobin smiles.

“Good.”

Then he sits back, legs parted slightly, one hand gesturing to his lap.

“Climb up.”

Your knees bend automatically, but he stops you with one word.

“Face them.”

Your stomach flips.

But you obey.

You straddle his lap facing the pack, knees sinking to either side of his thighs, back arched slightly. His cock presses hot and heavy between your slick folds, not inside you yet. Just there. Waiting.

His arm wraps around your waist. The other slips between your legs.

And then his voice, low and final:

“Show them who owns you.”

Your breath hitches. Soobin doesn’t push in right away.

Instead, his fingers slide through the mess coating your thighs, Kai’s come, your slick. He presses two fingers into your hole with precision, stretching you open again, testing how easily you still yield.

You moan softly, hips twitching.

“Still wet,” he murmurs. “Still mine.”

You nod, breath shaky.

His cock nudges at your entrance. You try to sink down, but he stops you, one firm hand gripping your hip. 

Soobin never lets you take what hasn’t been given.

He looks over your shoulder, eyes on the rest of the pack. His voice is carved in ice.

“Yeonjun-hyung.”

A pause.

“Get in front of him.”

Yeonjun stands like the command had been waiting in his bones.

He doesn't hesitate.

He moves across the room silently, footsteps quiet on the polished floor. His shirt is still unbuttoned from earlier, chest bare, skin flushed. He stops in front of you, tall, broad, his cock already hard again. Just like he’s always been, waiting for the moment Soobin allows him to be fed.

Soobin's hand slides from your hip to the base of his cock. He lines himself up beneath you.

Then thrusts up.

You cry out.

Your body drops slightly from the force of it, your hole forced wide again, stuffed full of Soobin's cock, thick and punishing, sliding into you with impossible ease from how open you've already been made.

His other hand grips your waist.

He fucks you from below.

You’re held there, knees on either side of him, thighs trembling, your body jolting with each slow, deep thrust. You can’t do anything but take it. Every inch. Every measured, perfect drag of cock splitting you open again.

“Don’t ride me,” Soobin says, breath hot against your shoulder. “You’ve done enough.”

He moves you, grinding you down onto his cock, fucking up into you like this is the only way to remind you who you belong to.

“Open your mouth,” he says.

You do.

Yeonjun steps forward.

His cock brushes your lips, swollen and flushed, already beading at the tip.

You don’t need to be told.

You lean forward and take him in.

Yeonjun groans the moment your lips wrap around him, the sound ripped from his chest like a wound. His hand cradles the back of your head.

You suck him deep as Soobin thrusts up inside you again.

The pack watches.

Beomgyu’s hand is back on his cock, mouth parted.

Kai sits at the foot of the couch, eyes wide, cheeks pink, hands in his lap as if holding himself back is some kind of pain kink.

Taehyun hasn’t moved from his knees. But his chest is rising faster now.

You’re stuffed.

Soobin’s cock thick inside you. Yeonjun’s cock stretching your throat.

You moan around him, and he shudders, hips rocking forward, breath caught. His fingers tighten slightly in your hair.

“Don’t come yet, hyung.” Soobin says to him.

Yeonjun freezes. Nods.

You moan again, hips jerking as Soobin drives up once more, his hand dragging down your spine.

And then, you raise one hand, just barely. Your fingers curl in a beckon, and it’s Beomgyu who moves first, of course.

He’s always the first to reach for you when he’s allowed.

He slides in behind you, next to Soobin, pressed to your side in a heartbeat, one hand snaking around your waist, the other dragging up your chest to cup your throat.

“Fuck, baby, I can feel him inside you,” he groans, palm resting right over your stomach where Soobin’s cock pushes up from below. “You’re stretched so full, how the fuck are you still taking him?”

You moan around Yeonjun’s cock, the sound guttural.

Kai crawls to your other side.

He kneels beside your thigh, eyes flicking from your face to your slick thighs to the messy join where Soobin fucks up into your hole slowly. He reaches out but hesitates. Then he looks to Soobin for permission.

A small nod.

And Kai’s hand slides between your legs, fingers curling gently around your leaking cock.

“You’re so wet,” he whispers. “You’re dripping down Soobin-oppa’s cock. Down your thighs. Over me.”

His tongue flicks out, catching the mix where it spills.

Beomgyu’s mouth is at your shoulder now, teeth dragging across skin damp with sweat.

“Let us see how you look when you fall apart for all of us.”

Yeonjun groans, his cock twitching in your throat.

You take him deeper.

Soobin’s thrusts never falter.

He’s steady but brutal, the kind of rhythm that punishes and worships at once. His hands grip your hips tighter, driving you down onto him as if you belong nowhere else.

And you don’t.

Taehyun stands last.

Still shirtless, still quiet.

He walks forward slowly, eyes tracking every inch of you.

He kneels at your feet again, lifts one to his thigh, and presses his mouth to your ankle.

A kiss.

A vow.

Then up.

He spreads your other thigh with reverent hands and leans forward. His tongue flicks against your hole where Soobin’s cock disappears inside.

You moan around Yeonjun’s cock.

Your body thrashes, overstimulated again, and no one holds you still.

Instead, they guide you through it.

Kai’s hand pumps faster. Beomgyu’s hand tightens around your throat. Taehyun’s tongue licks the come that leaks around Soobin’s cock.

And Soobin?

He fucks you harder.

“Come,” he growls. “Now.”

You do.

You convulse violently, cock twitching in Kai’s hand, your moan muffled by Yeonjun’s cock as thick spurts spill over your thigh and his wrist and the seat below you.

Soobin groans.

His thrusts snap up—one, two, three—

Then he buries himself deep.

His come floods your hole again, hot and slow, and you feel it spill around him.

Only then does Yeonjun thrust forward, finally allowed.

He grips your hair, moaning your name as he comes in your throat, and you swallow without thought, slick tears spilling from the corners of your eyes.

Soobin pulls out with a slick, wet sound. Yeonjun slides free, panting, his hand stroking down your jaw. And you collapse into Kai’s arms, messy and wet and glowing.

Your lips are wet. Kai cradles you, your thighs trembling. Soobin’s come still leaks out of your overstretched hole. Yeonjun’s cock glistens with your spit. Taehyun’s tongue glides once more over your inner thigh before he pulls back, eyes heavy.

You could sleep like this.

You could collapse and let them carry you to bed again, wrap you in silk, tuck your face against Soobin’s chest, the way he holds you like he’s keeping the whole world still with one arm.

But you don’t.

You turn your head. Kai’s mouth is pressed against your ear, murmuring soft, sweet nothings. You slip your fingers through his hair and hold him gently. Then you look up.

At him.

Beomgyu stands just a few feet away, shirt open, belt hanging loose, his cock red and aching where he’s been stroking himself, waiting.

And that’s what gets you.

The waiting.

The fact that he wanted it so bad, but didn’t dare take it until you asked.

You open your mouth, voice gone hoarse.

“…One more, oppa?”

His eyes darken instantly. The lazy grin vanishes. He steps forward like a man possessed.

“Yeah?” he says, voice low, tight. “You want me?”

You nod. When he reaches you, you whisper it.

“Want your knot, oppa. One more. Just one.”

Beomgyu groans, deep and low, and drops to his knees.

You don’t say please. He doesn’t ask for permission.

He grabs your hips, fingers sinking into the softness there, and flips you over into his lap. The room spins. Your chest presses against Kai’s, his hands steadying you. Yeonjun brushes your hair from your eyes. Taehyun’s palm rests on your lower back.

Soobin just watches. Says nothing.

Beomgyu’s cock slides in with no resistance. You whimper, back arching.

He hisses through his teeth. “Still so fucking tight—"

He thrusts once, almost too deep, and you sob.

Then again harder and your legs shake.

Then he’s fucking you in earnest.

He fucks you like he’s been told it’s the last time. Like you might disappear if he doesn’t leave a part of himself inside you.

Kai strokes your cheek.

“You’re perfect,” he whispers.

Yeonjun’s hand brushes your hip, steadying you.

Taehyun watches Beomgyu’s cock disappear into you over and over again, his lips parted, chest heaving.

And Soobin speaks.

“Give him more.”

It’s an order.

Beomgyu slams forward.

You cry out, voice breaking, as the swell of his knot pushes against your rim, already too full, too sore, and forces in.

You convulse.

You feel the snap of your body giving in again. His knot locks in place, and he comes, spurting thick and hot. His face buries in your neck. He shakes.

“Mine,” he pants. “You’re—fuck—mine, mine, mine—”

You come again.

Clenching around him.

When he stills, still buried in you, your body slumps forward into the others.

Kai catches your weight.

Yeonjun kisses your temple.

Taehyun’s hand is on your back again.

And Soobin stands.

“You’ve had us all now,” he says, voice soft. “Sleep.”

And this time, you do.

[ttatteuthae]

3: the offering after blood

poly txt x you

genre: dark romance; mafia omegaverse au

full list of tags/tws on ao3

wc: 6900

summary: Soobin's game and what comes after.

a/n This is just a lot of smut. And powerplay. That's it. That's the chapter. You've been fairly warned. Also yes, Soobin and you and the rest of the pack had a maybe not safe and sane but very consensual conversation about doing this whenever they came back home after doing unspeakable and gristly crime.

I am a slave to feedback so if you (hopefully) enjoyed reading this, let me know. comments/reblogs = fic getting updated faster :) Thanks for reading!

masterlist

The belt falls.

A sharp crack, leather snapping across the tender curve just below your ass, and your breath shatters.

"Ah—!"

You don’t scream, not quite, but the sound is enough. Enough to echo against the marble, to wrench something primal from deep inside the pack.

Beomgyu’s chair screeches as he rises, looking half-feral. Kai gasps like he’s the one who’s been struck. Yeonjun’s hands curl into fists on the table, knuckles bone-white. Taehyun doesn’t move, but his jaw grinds, and the muscle beneath his cheek twitches with violent restraint.

But Soobin remains calm.

His hand smooths over the welt blooming beneath your robe, a single stroke that makes your knees threaten to fold. “Good,” he says softly, like it pleases him that you cried out. Because it was never about causing you pain, he just wanted to hear the sound of your obedience finally breaking loose.

“You’ll thank me,” he murmurs. “Later. When your hole’s leaking and your legs can’t hold you up.”

Another strike.

Your cry rips louder this time, raw and breathless and ruined.

The belt thuds onto the table, and Soobin finally steps back.

“Take it off,” he says.

Your fingers tremble where they reach for the belt at your waist, but you undo it anyway. Let the robe slip. The silk whispers down your arms, puddles at your feet, leaving you bare and glowing in the candlelight, thighs slick, scent heavy with need.

You hear Kai’s breath hitch. “Hyung…”

Soobin doesn’t respond. He doesn’t have to. He steps to the head of the table again, and when he speaks, it’s to the others.

“Since he wants to be loud tonight,” he says, voice cold as steel, “let’s see how long he lasts before he begs me to let him be quiet.”

You don’t move.

But you know what's coming.

Yeonjun’s chair scrapes next.

His footsteps cross the floor behind you, nearly silent, very much deliberate. You recognize them by rhythm alone. By his scent.

Leather gloves. Gun oil. Salt.

“I’m first” Yeonjun says, his voice a low vow. 

You don’t speak. Instead, you move.

Your hips shift back, slow and deliberate, the curve of your spine deepening as your bare skin presses against the edge of the table. It creaks faintly beneath the weight of your submission, and the slick between your thighs shines in the low light like an invitation.

Behind you, Yeonjun stills.

Utterly.

You can feel him, not touching yet, but watching, heat pulsing from him. The silence stretches too long. The others know better than to interrupt. Even Beomgyu, who practically vibrates with impatience, keeps his mouth shut.

You don't turn to see him.

You don’t need to.

He’s shaking.

He always does when you give him this.

Because Yeonjun doesn’t want something soft. He needs it. And needing something makes him dangerous.

"Yeonjun-oppa," you whisper, just loud enough. Your voice is low, supple, pliant. Just what he needs. “Will you make it hurt?”

The sound he makes isn’t human. 

Gloved hands close around your hips, dragging you back so hard your toes lift off the ground. You gasp, and he’s already there, body heat flush to your back, breath against the nape of your neck. One hand slides between your thighs, ungloved now, rough fingers spreading you with reverence edged in desperation.

“Already dripping,” he murmurs, voice raw and aching. “You want me to split you open like this?”

You nod. Barely.

He spits.

Right onto your hole. It’s filthy, almost too fast. His fingers spread it in, and you jolt forward, knuckles white on the table. He doesn’t even bother with more.

He doesn’t need to.

You gave yourself to him, and that’s worse than begging. That's an offering.

Leather brushes your inner thighs as he kneels behind you.

You don’t expect the first kiss.

But it comes, open-mouthed, pressed against the back of your thigh. Then your ass. Then the spot just beside your hole, where his breath ghosts hot and damp.

He ruins. But he mourns what he ruins even as he does it.

You feel the scrape of teeth. A growl, low and guttural. His zipper lowers like a warning.

Then the head of his cock presses against your entrance.

You rock your hips back again, whimpering. For him. That’s what makes him lose it.

Yeonjun doesn’t ask, doesn’t bother giving a warning.

He thrusts.

The table slams forward an inch. Your cry is helpless, echoing off the walls, a hymn offered to a merciless god.

His cock stretches you wide, brutal and perfect, filling you so deep your vision whites out at the edges.

Behind you, his voice is shaking.

“Mine.”

The edge of the table bites into your hips with each thrust.

Yeonjun fucks like he’s punishing the ache in his chest, driving it into your body until his breath shudders ragged against your neck. His fingers lock around your waist like a man holding himself close to the only thing he trusts not to fall apart.

You’re the only thing he trusts. The pack are the only people he will ever fully trust.

He doesn’t say it. He never does. But the way he holds you says more than any confession ever could.

The head of his cock drags over a sensitive spot inside you, thick and blunt and aching. You moan, legs trembling. Slick coats your inner thighs, your hole stretched wide around him. Your body tightens again when he hits that same spot again and again with punishing precision.

“Fuck—fuck, look at him,” Beomgyu groans from the side, hand now shamelessly pressed to the front of his slacks. “He’s swallowing hyung’s cock like he was made for it.”

“Because he was,” Taehyun says, coldly clinical, but his voice sounds strained.

Kai doesn’t speak at all. He just stares, lips parted, eyes glassy.

Yeonjun leans over you, chest slick against your back. One hand claws over yours on the table. The other drags to your belly, pressing down possessively where his cock bulges from the inside, deep and relentless.

“You’re taking it so well,” he pants into your ear. “So fucking well, Omega. Look at you, dripping for me, choking on me, and you still haven’t begged for it.”

You whimper.

Then your voice cracks.

“Yeonjun-oppa—"

He snarls.

"—Knot me. Please. I want it. I want your knot, I want you to fuck it into me in front of everyone—please."

That’s what breaks him.

He grabs your throat, not tight enough to bruise but just enough to keep you still and buries his cock to the hilt.

You feel the knot starting to swell. It pulses at your rim, thickening slowly, forcing your body to yield. The burn is sharp, exquisite. You cry out, mouth open against your forearm, eyes wet, legs nearly giving out. He’s panting against your neck now, groaning, muttering mine mine mine.

But before it locks,

Soobin speaks.

“Stop.”

The word cuts clean across the room.

Yeonjun freezes.

The entire pack goes still.

You’re shaking. Slick. Open. Half-full of the alpha who needs you the most and he is not allowed to finish.

You turn your head, slow, dazed. Eyes meet Soobin’s.

He’s seated again, legs spread slightly, hands resting on the arms of his chair, a king awaiting tribute.

“Pull out,” he says.

Yeonjun exhales like it guts him. 

“Now.”

And Yeonjun obeys.

He pulls out slowly inch by inch, trembling, his knot swollen and unsatisfied, your hole wet and gaping from the absence.

You moan, high and wrecked, collapsing forward onto your elbows. Your thighs quiver, the air cold on the mess between your legs. You’re empty, still slicking, unclaimed.

Soobin tilts his head.

“Come here,” he says. “On your knees.”

You move, a puppet cut from its strings. 

Your hands rest delicately on your thighs. Your eyes lift.

“Ask me,” he says. “The way you asked him.”

You lick your lips.

“Soobin-oppa…” Your voice breaks. “Please. Please let me be knotted. I want it. I need it. Please tell me someone can claim me tonight—please.”

He watches you a moment longer.

Then nods.

“You’ll take them all,” he says. “One by one. But you won’t be knotted until I say.”

Beomgyu groans in relief. Taehyun exhales through his nose, unbuttoning his cuffs. Kai’s hand is already in his pants.

Yeonjun’s still panting behind you, cock red and leaking. This is exactly why he doesn’t like Soobin’s game. And yet, he still plays

Soobin leans forward.

“You begged so sweetly. Let’s see if your body can handle what your mouth promised.”

Your eyes flutter shut.

You breathe in through your nose, five distinct scents collapsing into something feral and intoxicating. Blood. Musk. Salted sweat. The lingering sweetness of your own slick, still running down your thighs.

Then, your voice.

“Beomgyu-oppa,” you whisper, lashes trembling, “touch me first.”

A beat of silence.

Then the chair scrapes. Fast, reckless.

“Fuck yes,” he snarls.

He’s in front of you before your next breath, dropping to his knees, dark eyes blown wide, lips already parted. His fingers are smearing against your slick the moment they land, two pushing into you with no ceremony at all. You choke on a moan, body jolting, back arching so beautifully that Yeonjun curses behind you and grabs his own cock just to stay still.

“Look at that,” Beomgyu murmurs, eyes glued to where his fingers disappear into your ruined hole. “Still open. Still greedy. Still fucking twitching for more.”

He scissors his fingers deep, crooking just right. You jerk forward with a strangled cry.

“There,” he breathes. “That’s the spot. You’ll come just like this, won’t you, little thing? Begged for knots but forgot how good fingers feel.”

You collapse into it. Your head dips low, hips rutting subtly into his hand but then someone else moves.

Kai.

He’s quiet, unseen until he always isn’t.

He slides beneath you, positioning himself between your knees, one hand sliding up the back of your thigh while the other tips your chin up with maddening gentleness.

“Sit on me,” he whispers, lips grazing yours. “Let me hold you while Hyung breaks you.”

Your legs tremble, body caught between Beomgyu’s fingers and Kai’s breath. You don’t speak, just obey.

You lower yourself into Kai’s lap, thighs bracketing his hips, his clothed cock pressing up against the slick mess between your legs. His arms wrap around your waist, deceptively soft.

“I’ll keep you together,” he promises. “While they pull you apart.”

Beomgyu’s fingers stay buried inside you as you shift, and the angle changes and fucks you deeper.

You cry out, keening into Kai’s shoulder as Beomgyu laughs, low and delighted.

“God, you’re soaked. Want another?” he asks, already sliding a third finger in beside the others.

You whimper, nod.

Kai kisses your temple.

Behind you, Yeonjun paces like a caged thing. Taehyun’s rolled his sleeves up to the elbow, still seated, but his eyes haven’t left your body for a second. Soobin hasn’t moved, hasn’t blinked. His hands are folded, one finger tapping, slow and patient, against the armrest.

He’s waiting.

Beomgyu adds the fourth.

You seize in Kai’s lap, mouth open, throat raw, your hole stretched wide around his fingers and pulsing. The burn is everything, white-hot and perfect. Kai’s hand presses low on your belly again.

“Still not full,” he murmurs against your ear. “Not even close.”

Soobin speaks.

“Taehyun.”

The beta rises smoothly. Every movement is controlled. Undeniably hard beneath his slacks, but composed as ever.

“Let’s test how long he can keep his composure.”

Your head rolls back against Kai’s shoulder, throat exposed, chest heaving as Beomgyu’s fingers thrust relentlessly into your soaked, stretched hole. The heat coils in your belly, impossible and bright but not enough. Not when Soobin hasn’t touched you. Not when he’s still clothed, still sitting there untouched by the filth he’s orchestrated.

You don’t look at Taehyun.

You look at him.

“Soobin-oppa…” Your voice is hoarse. “Make him break me.”

The reaction is immediate and absolutely devastating to the beta.

Taehyun freezes halfway to you, caught between duty and the raw, trembling line between control and ruin. You see the flicker of emotion behind his eyes, he pulse of want, sharp and fast, drowned under years of composure. But Soobin doesn’t grant him the dignity of a choice.

“Taehyun,” he says, voice a razor. “Do what he asked.”

A pause. Then:

“No restraint.”

A collective hush falls over the room.

Even Beomgyu stills his hand, fingers buried to the knuckle inside you, eyes wide and glittering with something that isn’t quite surprise. Kai’s arms tighten around you, keeping you in his lap, lips brushing your temple in silent warning: Hold on.

Taehyun steps forward.

He doesn’t rush. He never does. But when he reaches you, his eyes are darker, pupils blown, jaw set, lips pressed so tightly together they’ve gone white. He says nothing as he undoes his slacks, as he kneels between your legs and lets Beomgyu slide his fingers out, slow and wet.

Your body flutters around nothing for a heartbeat.

Then Taehyun’s cock replaces them. He doesn’t ease it in. Doesn’t try to tease either.

Just one hard, sudden thrust and you scream.

Kai catches it in his palm over your mouth.

Your back arches, thighs kicking, the table rattling from where parts of your body press against it. Taehyun’s cock is thick, smooth, deep, forcing your hole open in one brutal push. You clench around him instinctively, trying to hold on, and he groans quietly, chokes it down like the sound was pulled from his lungs against his will.

“God,” Beomgyu mutters under his breath. “Taehyunie really snapped. Look at him.”

And he has.

Your perfectly poised beta, the voice of reason—gone.

Taehyun grabs your hips with both hands, dragging you lower into Kai’s lap as he fucks up into you, merciless and precise. His thrusts are cruelly angled, punishing, forcing cries from your throat that you never meant to give. You feel every inch of him, feel how deep he reaches, how violently your body is made to take this.

Kai strokes your chest, voice in your ear. “You asked for this, darling.”

You nod. Crying now, mouth open, tears tracking clean down your cheeks, moans swallowed by Kai’s hand as Taehyun drives in again and again and again.

“I can feel you tightening,” Taehyun pants, hips snapping forward. “You’re close already. I’m not even trying to make you come.”

He is. He is, every thrust is angled like a punishment, cockhead grinding against where you’re sensitive so hard your legs twitch, your toes curl, your whole body threatens to shatter.

“Please—oppa, please, I can’t—”

“Not yet,” Soobin says.

You sob. Kai hushes you.

“You said he could break me,” you gasp. “You said no restraint”

“And I meant it.” Soobin’s voice is calm, terrifying. “But you don’t get to come until you beg him.”

Taehyun’s rhythm falters for half a beat.

You look down at him. He’s flushed, sweaty, falling apart and still holding on.

The restraint was never Soobin’s.

It was his.

You reach for his wrist.

Taehyun’s hand is tight on your hip, bruising, trying to contain himself in the controlled violence Soobin allowed but you break that hold. Fingers trembling, you guide his hand up, press it flat against your belly where his cock pushes deep inside, where you want him to feel what he’s doing to you.

His breath catches.

“Taehyun-oppa,” you whisper, voice shaking, wet and ruined. “Please.”

He blinks up at you, barely seeing, lips parted. Still moving, hips grinding into you with the kind of rhythm like he’s been waiting months, years to be given permission to lose control. But he’s still holding back. Still waiting for the edge.

“Please,” you whisper again. “Please break me.”

Your other hand touches his cheek, fingertips grazing his jaw, soft and trembling. “I want to come on your cock. I want to soak you. I want to feel you lose yourself inside me.”

His eyes roll back.

“Let me be your first, oppa,” you breathe, because you’re still playing the game and you know exactly what to say to him to win. Even if it’s a fantasy. “The first one you fuck.”

He growls. It’s not a sound heard from him often. It tears from his throat. Stripped down, Taehyun’s merely a man betrayed by his own restraint.

Then it’s gone.

All of it.

He lets go.

Your back hits the table. Kai gasps behind you as you’re ripped from his lap, bent over wood and silk, your thighs forced wide as Taehyun slams into you, cock hitting deep, precise, brutal.

“Fuck,” Beomgyu hisses. “There he is.”

“He begged for this,” Taehyun snarls, voice broken, guttural. “He begged.”

You sob. Not from pain. From pleasure so intense it feels like you’re burning. Praying for salvation or destruction, you arem’t sure.

He pistons into you, merciless, his breath now frantic, mouth open, sweat dripping from his temple.

“Say it again,” he growls. “Say you’re mine—say it.”

You choke.

“I’m yours, I’m—fuck—Taehyun-oppa, I’m yours.”

You clench. The edge begins to swell.

Soobin doesn’t stop him.

And Taehyun, his control shatters.

He slams forward and forces all of his cock in, thick, blunt, stretching you wider than before. You scream, convulsing around him, body trembling violently as your orgasm rips through you like lightning down your spine.

Your come spills across the table, slick dripping onto the floor.

Taehyun bites into your shoulder.

He comes deep, cock buried inside you, body pressed flush to yours as he moans your name into your skin, whispering it like an apology or a blessing or a curse he asked to carry.

Kai is panting, stroking your hair, whispering nonsense praise against your cheek.

Beomgyu looks ready to devour you.

Yeonjun hasn’t moved, but his eyes haven’t blinked since you started screaming.

And Soobin?

He stands.

Undoes his cufflinks. Rolls his sleeves up to the elbow. Smooth, unhurried.

His voice is steady.

“Now,” he says. “Someone hold his legs open.”

Taehyun pulls out gracelessly. Your body trembles, limp across the table, throat raw, thighs soaked and glistening.

You should be empty. Spent. But the hunger inside you has only sharpened.

Soobin’s footsteps approach, measured and heavy with promise, and the air shifts with the weight of command. He’s already unbuttoned his sleeves. Veins flex at his forearms as he rolls them up. 

Someone needs to hold you open.

And you reach for Yeonjun.

Your arm extends blindly behind you, slick palm curling through the air until it finds the sharp line of his wrist. He jerks like he’s been burned, still half-hard, knot swollen and aching, denied the one thing he’s wired to crave.

You turn your head, cheek pressed to the lacquered wood, eyes glassy but unyielding. Your fingers tighten around him.

“Oppa.”

He doesn’t speak.

He moves.

You hear the shudder in his breath as he comes forward, heavy boots on marble, his frame casting shadow over the table. His hands slide beneath your thighs, scarred knuckles, leather-worn fingers and he lifts them.

Yeonjun spreads you open like you’re something holy. Something sacrificial. And maybe that’s exactly what you are on nights like this. 

You moan.

Yeonjun holds your thighs apart and your hole gapes invitingly, slick and twitching, dripping with their release.

“Hyung,” Beomgyu whispers from the side, breathless. “He’s still open. He’s—fuck—he’s going to take another cock”

Soobin steps between your legs.

Dark slacks. White shirt. Hands clean. Eyes unreadable.

He doesn’t speak.

Just watches as Yeonjun tilts your hips higher, your knees almost to your chest, your ass lifted so Soobin can see the mess, the ruin, the wreckage that he instigated, that somehow still pulses with want.

And then he unzips.

His cock is already hard.

Thick. Dark-veined. Too long to be kind.

You don’t want kindness though. You want to fall apart.

He drags the head through your slick folds and you twitch, eyes fluttering, your nails digging into Yeonjun’s wrist.

“I told you you’d take them all,” Soobin says at last.

Then he presses in.

The stretch is impossible. Too much. Your hole’s already ruined and Soobin is fucking huge, and yet he pushes steadily, watching your body shudder as it’s forced to yield.

You scream again.

Kai moans behind you. Beomgyu nearly drops to the floor. Taehyun just sighs, sated still.

But Yeonjun, he holds you tighter.

He whispers against your knee, breath catching on your skin.

“You’re doing so well,” he says. “Take him. Let him break you. We’ll put you back together after.”

Soobin’s cock pushes deeper.

You sob. Your body doesn’t know how to handle it, your brain short-circuiting between pleasure and agony and surrender so complete it’s like being on ecstasy.

He bottoms out.

Inside you.

It’s too big.

You can’t speak.

You can’t even breathe.

And then Soobin moves.

His hips grind in a slow, devastating rhythm, dragging thick, deliberate inches through the tight, overstretched mess of you, cock dragging against you like he wants to ruin every nerve you have left.

Your voice has long since broken.

There’s nothing left now but sound, half-sobs, ragged moans, the wet slap of skin against skin as your body is used past the point of reason. 

And still you lift your chin.

You offer your throat, soft, exposed, slick with sweat. 

Soobin pauses mid-thrust.

For the first time, he exhales like he’s lost something. The clench of his jaw eases. The line of his shoulders falters. Only slightly but enough.

Because you haven’t begged.

You could.

You’ve begged for knots. For hands. For cock.

But for his mark?

You offer.

And he understands the difference.

The next thrust is deep, a deliberate grind down, stretching you wider. You cry out, and Yeonjun groans, his fingers tightening on the backs of your thighs like he’s holding down an altar that might otherwise rise to heaven.

Soobin leans forward.

His hand comes to your jaw, tilting it gently. His cock stays buried inside you, his gaze dragging over your throat like a sword choosing where to fall.

Your scent is blooming now, thick with surrender, sticky with slick and sweetness and the wild ache of being so completely theirs.

His lips find your pulse.

He lingers there.

You feel his breath, slow and steady.

Then, finally, teeth.

He sinks them in.

Your body convulses.

The mark burns. It’s not pain, not quite, but something deeper. It feels like blood remembering who it belongs to. Like muscle re-aligning to crave his touch. The bite sends shockwaves through your whole body.

Soobin doesn’t move.

Just drinks you in.

Then pulls back slowly, blood blooming at your throat in two perfect crescents, and licks it clean.

Soobin looks down at you, still impaled on his cock, mouth slick with your blood.

“You’ll take us all,” he says again. “But I always leave the first claim.”

And you can only nod.

You sag forward.

Limbs trembling, jaw slack, breath ragged against the polished wood as your body throbs, stuffed full and leaking from every hole. Soobin’s come still trickles inside you, warmth sinking deep, claim written in your blood. Yeonjun hasn’t let go of your legs. His grip is bruising now. 

You feel the table shudder when Beomgyu stands.

“Fuck, baby.” His voice cracks like glass under pressure. “You look like an offering.”

Your eyes lift barely.

You reach one hand forward, fingers curling lazily in the air.

“Come fuck my mouth, oppa.”

He groans.

It’s guttural. His belt is gone in seconds, pants shoved down just far enough. His cock is flushed, leaking, angry with denial and the moment you open your mouth, he’s there.

He doesn’t ease in.

Beomgyu never does.

He grabs a fistful of your hair and thrusts into your mouth, head thrown back with a hissed “Yes.” Your lips stretch wide, tongue slick under him, nose buried against his pelvis in seconds. You gag once but he moans like he wants the resistance.

“Fuck, I’ve missed this throat. Missed you like this,” he pants, rolling his hips. “My cock down your throat while Soobin-hyung inside you… God, you’re so fucking greedy—”

Then Kai moves.

Quiet as always. Invisible until the moment he isn’t.

He slips under the table, the soft brush of his hair against your calf the only warning before his tongue presses between your thighs.

You jolt violently around every cock inside you.

Kai moans into the mess of your hole, his hole, his precious, ruined omega split around Soobin. He drinks it in, tongue sliding along the split of you, tasting slick and semen and iron-tinged blood that dripped where Soobin marked you.

“Sweet,” Kai murmurs against your skin. 

His tongue pushes in, into you, sliding between the edges of your stretched rim, licking around the cock still pulsing inside you, lapping up the mixture with slow, obscene delight. Soobin hisses at the sensation before pulling out without any warning.

You scream around Beomgyu’s cock.

You convulse, body arching off the table. Yeonjun tightens his grip to hold you down. Beomgyu moans brokenly, rocking harder into your mouth.

“Soobin, look at him,” Beomgyu gasps. “He’s choking and dripping and still asking for more,”

“I see him,” Soobin says calmly, now seated, Taehyun on his lap. 

Kai hums in agreement.

“I want to eat him every time he begs.”

His lips suck at your entrance now, slick-slick-slick as he laps every drop of seed that leaks out of you, humming contentedly. 

You suck Beomgyu harder, jaw aching, spit spilling from your lips. His moans rise in pitch. He’s close. You can feel the tremble in his thighs, the way his thrusts lose rhythm.

He hisses, hips jerking.

“I’m—fuck, I’m coming—”

He pushes deep, and you take it, mouth full, throat fluttering, his come spilling down your tongue.

Beomgyu’s whole body shakes as he groans your name and shudders.

At the same time, Kai moans beneath you. Your hole pulses around his tongue.

“I want to be inside,” he whispers.

You swallow Beomgyu’s come. Let your lips part as he pulls out, cock dragging from your mouth wet and spent, his breath ragged above you. His hand lingers in your hair, still curled, still trembling. You don't thank him.

You shift your head to the side.

You can feel Soobin’s come sliding out, and Kai’s mouth is gone now, replaced by the ghost of something harder, hot skin nudging at your rim, tip of his cock wet, wanting.

But he waits.

You feel his breath on your thigh.

He knows better.

And so do you.

You lift your head.

Find Soobin’s eyes across the table again, calm as death. You can’t kneel, not with your legs barely holding weight, but your voice is steady when it breaks the quiet:

“Oppa. Who gets it next?”

The others still.

Kai’s cock pulses behind you. Yeonjun’s hands haven’t moved from your thighs. Soobin’s expression doesn’t shift.

Only his fingers twitch once on the arm of his chair. Taehyun leans against him, boneless and spent.

He lifts Taehyun gently from his lap, stands again, and sets the beta on the chair like a ragdoll. Walks to you with slow, measured steps, and tilts your chin up with the barest edge of pressure. Your throat is still bleeding slightly. His mark. His claim. You feel him look at it. Then at you.

“I said you’d take them all,” he says. “And you will.”

A beat.

“Beomgyu fucked your mouth. Taehyun fucked your hole. Yeonjun-hyung hasn’t had you yet.”

Yeonjun’s breath catches. His grip tightens.

Kai’s fingers tremble on your ass.

“And Kai-oppa?” you whisper. “He’s waiting.”

Soobin’s lips curl, just slightly.

“He can wait longer.”

Kai whimpers softly behind you. Beomgyu huffs, but doesn’t argue. Because it’s Soobin’s game. Only Soobin gets to decide. Only he hands out your body tonight.

“Yeonjun-hyung,” Soobin says, stepping aside.

“Take him.”

You feel Yeonjun shudder.

Yeonjun doesn’t make you wait.

He pushes in, and you scream again because never ready for how he fucks. He sheaths himself in one stroke.

And groans, low and wrecked, against your shoulder.

“You asked,” he breathes, thrusting deep.

“Now take it.”

Yeonjun drives into you with the force of a man who has waited too long and now worships only through destruction.

Every thrust is brutal and deep, punching breath from your lungs, the wet slap of his hips against your ass drowned by the wreckage of your own moans. Your hole, swollen and overused, clenches down on him instinctively, milking him for every inch.

Your hand finds Kai’s shoulder, fingers curling in the fabric of his shirt, and you pull him forward.

He gasps, eyes wide, lips parted in shock as your free hand slides down to his belt.

“Come here, oppa,” you whisper, voice hoarse, throat red from Beomgyu, blood still faint on your lips from Soobin. “You’ve waited long enough.”

He nods frantically, breath catching.

Your fingers make quick work of his belt, then his fly, then he’s freed, hot and flushed and leaking from being edged by the sight of your ruin. You guide his cock to your lips, and he stares down at you like he’s about to cry.

Yeonjun thrusts deep again hard and you choke around Kai’s tip as it slides into your mouth.

It’s obscene.

Yeonjun behind you, grinding into your soaked hole. Kai in front of you, whimpering as your tongue laps around his cock, lips tight, cheeks hollowing as you take him all.

His hands flail for something to hold. One finds your jaw. The other braces on the table. His thighs tremble beneath your grip.

“Fuck—fuck, Omega,” Kai moans, hips jerking forward before he stifles himself, trying not to thrust too hard. “You’re—you’re too good—”

“Let him,” Soobin’s voice cuts in, dark and amused. “He needs it.”

Kai moans.

And then he fucks your mouth sweet at first, then reckless. Desperate. His thighs slap against your face as your lips stretch wide, saliva spilling down your chin, your moans swallowed around him.

Yeonjun groans low behind you, cock rutting into your hole now in sharp, possessive snaps.

“So tight still,” he grits. “Even after Taehyun. Even after Soobin. You keep pulling me in like you need it.”

You do.

Kai's hips stutter. You feel the telltale twitch in his cock, the choked sounds escaping his throat. His hands slide into your hair, gentle even now.

“I—Omega, I’m gonna—*fuck—*can I—?”

Soobin answers for you, calm and final:

“In his mouth. And don’t pull out.”

Kai’s moan is shattered.

He buries himself deep and comes hard, hot spurts filling your throat as you groan around him, lips sealed, swallowing everything he gives you. He cries out your name, hand shaking against your scalp, thighs trembling.

Yeonjun doesn’t stop.

If anything, your swallowing tightens your hole, and his groan breaks.

You pull back from Kai’s softening cock with a gasp, spit and come dripping from your chin. You turn your head enough to meet Soobin’s eyes again, mouth ruined, throat sore, hole still full.

You’re nothing but trembling muscle and devotion.

And he smiles.

“You’re ready now,” he says. “Beomgyu. Finish the job.”

Yeonjun groans against your back, cock pulsing as he finally spends himself inside you thick and molten, a slow flood of heat spilling into your ruined, twitching hole. He doesn’t knot.

He never does. Not without permission. And you didn’t give it.

Instead, you brace yourself on shaking arms as he slides free with a slick shhlk, your body collapsing open. You hear him curse behind you, hear the wet drag of his cock against his thigh, still hard but disciplined.

Then Beomgyu laughs.

Low. Dark. A sound full of promise.

“Finally.”

He moves fast.

Boots heavy, cock already in his hand, spit-slick and flushed angry red at the tip. You barely have time to shift before his fingers grip your hips, sliding through the mess between your thighs.

“Still warm,” he purrs, pressing the head of his cock against your spent hole. “Still open. Still mine.”

Then he shoves.

You scream.

There’s no patience. Just Beomgyu's cock punching deep into the heat left behind by three others, slicked with their come, stretched by Taehyun's cock, burned in by Soobin’s mark and still not enough.

He groans, head thrown back. “Fucking—Omega—"

His hips snap forward again. And again.

He fucks like chaos. Like a man who doesn't ask. Who takes. Who dares to believe your body was made for his cock alone and needs to be reminded who it belongs to.

Kai gasps behind you, watching, eyes wide and glassy. Yeonjun sinks into a chair, breath still ragged. Taehyun is sitting up now, flushed and silent, watching the bounce of your body on Beomgyu’s cock like he might break again.

Soobin stands, hands behind his back, saying nothing.

Beomgyu grips your ass tighter. His pace is vicious. There’s no rhythm nor reason, just raw need. He presses a thumb to your hole where his cock stretches you obscenely, smearing come and slick around your rim.

"You feel that?" he growls. "That’s all of us, baby. Soobin-hyung's come. Taehyun’s cock. Kai's tongue. Yeonjun-hyung's cock. And now—" his thrust knocks the wind from your lungs, "—me."

Your moans are raw. Half-sobs. You're not crying but close. Your body can’t tell the difference anymore.

And still he doesn't stop.

You feel the swell begin.

His knot. It feels too thick. Brutal.

“Beg for it,” he hisses. “Beg me to break you open again.”

You do.

You whimper, “Please, oppa, knot me—I want it, I want all of you inside, I want to be full—”

He loses it.

Slams forward, knot forcing in with a sickening, perfect stretch, and you scream as your hole clamps tight, locking him inside with a messy pop. He groans, spilling into you with a pulse that makes your legs shake, your back arch, your eyes roll back.

He bites your shoulder. Hard.

You come. Again.

Spasming under him, sobbing into the table, your body trembles like a puppet with strings cut. Beomgyu's breath stutters against your skin, one last thrust grinding into your overstretched hole, knot throbbing as he empties everything he is into you.

He pulls out a while later.

And you collapse.

But not for long.

You lift your head.

Turn your face to Soobin.

And crawl.

One ruined hand after the next across the floor, slick dripping down your thighs, your hole gaping, red and used. Your scent is thick enough to choke the air.

You reach his feet.

He looks down at you.

You climb into his lap.

He parts his legs and lets you straddle him, your spent body trembling against his chest, arms wrapped weakly around his neck.

You look into his eyes, barely whispering.

“I want your cock last, oppa.”

Soobin’s hand comes to your back. Gentle.

“Then you’ll have it.”

Soobin's thighs are hot beneath you, iron tension beneath a layer of tailored wool, his slacks still undone from earlier. You settle over him and his hands come to your waist immediately. 

But you don't need his grip to move.

You ride.

One slow, trembling lift of your hips, slick dripping down the inside of your thighs, hole raw and ruined from every cock that came before and then you sink down onto him.

Soobin groans.

A single, low sound—fuuuck—ripped from his throat like it was dragged out with a knife. And you’re the knife.

He lets you take him.

Lets you set the pace. And it burns.

He’s thick. Too thick. His cock stretches you. You could be exaggerating but it feels like the first time, and maybe it is, because no matter how many times he’s inside you, it’s always new. Always a slow, surgical conquest.

Your palms brace on his shoulders, slick skin against his shirt. He doesn’t flinch at the mess. You lift again, thighs shaking, then drop. Grind. Take him deeper.

Your hole twitches.

“Fuck, you’re still open,” Beomgyu groans from across the room, shirt half-off, jaw slack. “You’re dripping all of us around his cock, look at that.”

Kai kneels nearby, hands on his knees.

Yeonjun sits in silence. His cock’s in his fist again. Taehyun is still. But his eyes never leave you. His mouth never moves. His hand is curled so tight in his lap, you wonder if his nails draw blood.

Soobin’s hand rises.

He brushes a strand of hair from your sweat-streaked face. His fingers linger at your cheek, tracing the blood he left in your throat with his bite.

“You waited for this,” he says, voice low. 

You nod. Ride harder. Your thighs quake. Your mouth opens in another silent cry. You know how his game ends.

Soobin’s other hand grabs your ass now, guiding your rhythm. Still not taking charge. Still giving you the reins.

Your rhythm stutters. You clench around him. You feel the stretch of something blooming inside. Your climax is building again, third or fourth or—what does it matter now?

Your body’s his.

You throw your head back, riding faster, the slap of your skin against his now lewd and wet and filthy.

“Come on, wife,” Soobin breathes, voice close to breaking. “Show them who you belong to.”

You shatter. Violently.

Your hole clamps down, every muscle drawn tight as your orgasm rips through you with punishing force, your come splattering against his stomach, your body jerking uncontrollably in his lap.

And that’s when he moves.

Grabs your waist.

Lifts you.

Slams you down.

Once.

Twice.

Three brutal thrusts up into your body and then he knots.

It forces inside with cruel pressure. You cry out again, body locking as his cock seals itself in your ruined hole. His arms wrap around you, chest to chest, as he comes deep, filling you a second time.

You sob in his arms. He doesn’t let you fall.

His lips come to your ear, breath warm, voice soft.

“You’re ours now.”

And you nod.

Because there’s nothing else left to say.

Soobin doesn’t move at first.

His cock pulses deep inside you still knotted, still filling you with warmth that leaks out slowly,. His arms are tight around your waist. He rests his forehead on your shoulder.

You feel the tension bleeding out of all of them, uncoiling from their bodies quietly.

Across the room, Beomgyu is sprawled on the floor, shirt unbuttoned and chest rising with deep, even breaths. His smile is soft now. He watches you with something almost gentle in his eyes.

Kai curls at the foot of the table, arms around his knees, cheek resting on the edge. 

Taehyun has returned to his chair. His hands are open now, resting palm-up on his thighs like he’s finally let go of something he didn’t know he was holding.

Yeonjun hasn't spoken since he finished. But he's standing again, quiet in the dim light, his shirt gone, belt discarded. He watches you like he’s memorizing your breathing.

Soobin’s knot softens slowly.

You shift in his lap, breath trembling, and he lifts you in one motion, one arm beneath your thighs, the other at your back. You make a soft sound, half-asleep already, and your head finds the curve of his shoulder instinctively.

And just like that, they follow.

Yeonjun is first. He gathers the discarded robe, tucks it gently around your shoulders. Beomgyu stretches his arms behind his head and laughs under his breath.

“About time,” he says. “If he stayed on that table any longer, I’d have asked for round two.”

“You still can’t walk straight,” Kai murmurs with a grin, and Beomgyu flips him off without getting up.

Taehyun is silent as he trails behind, lights dimming automatically as he passes. The house shifts with him into calm.

They don’t speak as they carry you to the bedroom.

It’s an expansive quiet space. Still scented faintly of the candle Kai lit before they left, the one you insisted on burning before every night that you know will end like this. You don’t stir as Soobin lays you in the center of the bed, your bed, their bed, theirs and yours. The silk robe pools around your waist. Your thighs are still faintly sticky. Your throat is marked.

They tend to you carefully but none of them wipe you clean.

Not tonight. Not when their instincts have just settled.

Yeonjun slides in first, taking the left side, your back pressed to his chest. Beomgyu wedges in on Yeonjun’s other side. Kai tucks himself between your legs, head resting on your stomach, fingers tracing lazy shapes over your skin.

Taehyun settles at the foot of the bed, then shifts upward, finally letting himself curl around your ankles, his hand ghosting over the bruises forming on your thighs.

Soobin’s last.

He turns out the final light, then climbs in beside you, fitting his body along the curve of yours, arms folding over your chest. His breath brushes your ear. His voice is low.

“You were good,” he murmurs. “Ours.”

You don’t reply.

You’re already asleep.

Their breathing slows one by one, the sharp edges from the night, blood under their fingernails, rage behind their eyes, the weight of everything they did in the dark, dissolving in the heat of your skin. Fucked out of their system.

This is what they killed for. This is what they come home to.

[ttatteuthae]

2: prologue

poly txt x you

genre: dark romance; mafia omegaverse au

full list of tags/tws on ao3

wc: 1732

summary: your pack comes home after a rather bloody night.

a/n if you're here because you read the tags, the worldbuilding guide + all my additional notes, and you've made the fully informed decision to continue reading this fic, welcome!

I am a slave to feedback so if you (hopefully) enjoyed reading this, let me know. comments/reblogs = fic getting updated faster :) Thanks for reading!

masterlist

The chandelier catches on the curve of Beomgyu’s jaw when he leans close. Blood still dries under his cufflinks; you pretend not to notice.

The foyer fills with the scent of violence, iron-slick and hot beneath cologne and gunpowder. Boots drag dirt and blood onto the marble floor. You watch from the stairs, robe belted tight around your waist, slippers silent against the lacquered wood. One hand rests on the banister. The other hovers near your hip.

Yeonjun is the first to look up. His eyes are black beneath the low light, pupils still dilated from adrenaline, gunmetal hunger behind them. He doesn’t speak. He never does at first. But his gaze drinks you in, slow and reverent, as if only the sight of you can strip the death from his skin.

"You're awake," Kai says brightly, too brightly. There's a smudge of blood on his cheek that doesn’t belong to him, drying in the soft curve of his smile. "Couldn't sleep without us, hmm?"

You don’t answer. Not yet.

Beomgyu throws himself onto the velvet settee like a prince returning from war. He smells like copper and sweat and narcotic smoke. His shirt clings damp to his chest; his fingers are still trembling from the adrenaline of a recent kill. The gun tucked at the small of his back clinks faintly against the frame. 

“Don’t look so scandalized, baby,” he calls, patting the spot beside him. You don’t move to join him. He grins. “We washed our hands before we came in. Mostly.”

“Hyung, you’re dripping on the rug,” Taehyun murmurs, already pulling off his jacket with clinical disgust. His shirt beneath is pristine. Of course it is. He never allows blood to touch him if he can help it. The only red on him is the flush at his throat, the one that rises when he catches your eye and looks away too fast.

“You should’ve seen him,” Kai hums, hanging his coat over the arm of the chair. “Didn’t even blink when the man started crying. Just—bang—right between the ribs. Like a textbook.” He grins, pretty and cruel. “You’d be proud.”

"I'm not interested in blood," you say, your voice soft but unyielding. You descend the last few steps. They know you’re lying. You were raised in the same bloodstained world they walked in.

Yeonjun finally moves. Crosses the floor silently and stops in front of you, close enough that his scent presses up under your nose. Smoke, leather, that sharp tinge of something not yet spent. His knuckle lifts to your cheekbone, brushes a lock of hair behind your ear. His palm is warm. Damp. He’s cleaned it, but not well enough. There's still someone else's life under his nails.

“You didn’t eat again,” he murmurs, thumb drifting down your jaw. 

“He was waiting,” Beomgyu says from the couch, legs thrown wide, gun now on the cushion beside him like it belongs there. “That’s why he didn’t. You only eat when we feed you, isn’t that right, little wife?”

Kai giggles, ducking behind Taehyun, who only sighs and undoes his cufflinks with precise, irritated fingers.

“I made you jook,” you reply calmly. “But I can throw it out if you prefer to have more bullets.”

There’s a pause. 

Beomgyu grins like sin. “God, I missed that mouth.”

“That’s enough,” Soobin says.

He enters last.

Always last.

The hall quiets the moment his shoes touch the tile. His presence moves like a tide, calm on the surface, lethal beneath. The blood on his shirt is minimal, as expected. Soobin doesn't need to get close to kill. He lets others do the carving; his knives are words, silences, glances that turn the room into a noose.

His eyes sweep the others first. A quiet order in a glance. Beomgyu sits straighter. Kai stills mid-laugh. Yeonjun lowers his hand but doesn’t step away.

Then—you.

That sharp gaze softens, only fractionally. His jaw loosens. The muscle there twitches once.

He says your name. But your name in his mouth is never just a name. And then he says:

“Come here.”

You don’t walk all the way. That’s not how the game works. You move close but not enough for him to reach you. Then, your knees find the tile without sound.

The robe pools around you like cream against marble, the silk whispering over skin still flushed from the scent of your mates filling the room. Cold rushes up your calves, stark and punishing but you don't flinch. You lower your gaze, place your hands neatly in your lap. You feel them all shift behind you, the pack falling into silence, watching how you offer yourself without being asked again.

Soobin steps closer. Each footfall, deliberate. The hem of his slacks brushes your thigh.

A hand settles under your chin, strong, warm, calloused from control. He tilts your face up. You let him.

His eyes are slate. Glacial. You feel the pulse in your throat begin to quicken.

“You waited,” he says quietly.

The words aren’t praise. They’re confirmation. Ownership. You waited, because you belong to them. You belong to him.

His thumb presses into the hollow beneath your lip. You part your mouth without thinking.

Behind him, Beomgyu exhales a breath like smoke. “Holy fuck. I’d kill for a camera right now.”

“No pictures,” Yeonjun says flatly. You don’t have to look to know he’s still staring at you, unmoving. Possessive.

Kai’s voice is softer. “Hyung, look at him. He’s buzzing.”

You are. Your skin’s humming under Soobin’s touch, your scent syrup-sweet and curling up around them, laced with need and submission. You can feel your body responding to him, softening. Wanting.

Soobin leans down.

“Were you good?” he murmurs. The words brush your lips. You can smell the bourbon on his breath. The copper under it.

Your throat works. “Yes, oppa.”

That earns the smallest curve of his mouth. Barely a smile. More like a promise.

He straightens slowly, hand trailing from your chin to your throat, thumb pressing into the hollow. 

“Get off the floor,” he says. “Before I knot you right here.”

The threat simmers low in your gut.

You rise only because he allows it, his hand guiding you up, fingers laced at the base of your neck like a leash. Your robe slips just enough to show the top of your shoulder. Taehyun’s breath hitches behind you.

“Come to the table,” Soobin says. “You’ll eat. Then you’ll sit in our laps while we tell you what we did to the men who looked at you.”

Beomgyu groans. “Fuck, you really mean that? All six of us? At the table?”

He already knows it. Everyone knows Soobin’s game. They know their presence is required at the table. But Beomgyu will never pass up a chance to rile the other alpha up.

Kai giggles again, delighted. “You better not spill anything on his lap this time, hyung.”

“I will if he wears nothing under that robe,” Beomgyu purrs.

Soobin doesn’t even look back.

“Then he’ll be punished.”

The dining room is warm, dimmed lights, linen napkins, porcelain bowls still steaming on the table. The scent of ginger and sesame clings to the air, but it’s Beomgyu’s cologne that floods your senses when he yanks you toward his lap.

"Come here, baby," he murmurs, and you go, not because he asks nicely (he doesn’t), but because Soobin doesn’t stop you.

You feel the curve of Beomgyu’s thighs under yours, the sharp press of a thigh holster beneath the tablecloth. One arm wraps around your waist, the other reaches forward, dragging the bowl of jook closer. His cuff is still speckled with blood. He doesn’t bother to roll up his sleeves.

“You didn’t eat, didn’t sleep, and still look good enough to wreck,” he hums against your neck, voice feather-light but edged in danger. “What should we do with you, jagi?”

His fingers dip into the bowl, pinching a bite of soft rice and shredded chicken, the heat curling steam into the air. You feel it before it touches your lips.

“Open,” he says. Like a command, but wrapped in velvet.

You do.

The rice is hot, delicate. It melts on your tongue. You swallow slowly, eyes on the flicker of candlelight catching the edge of a knife beside Taehyun’s untouched plate.

“Good boy,” Beomgyu breathes, lips brushing your temple.

Across the table, Soobin watches silently. His fingers tap once against the armrest of his chair before he lifts his own spoon and eats without speaking, his gaze never leaving you.

Yeonjun’s arms are crossed. He’s leaning back, ankle over his knee, one eyebrow lifted in judgment. He doesn’t like Soobin’s game, not really, but he respects the ritual of it. The way you offer obedience.

Kai, on the other hand, is all giggles and wide eyes as he pours tea with delicate grace. “He’s letting you feed him, hyung. That’s rare.” His gaze slides to Soobin. “You’re not jealous, are you?”

“Let him keep talking,” Taehyun mutters, “and you’ll be cleaning up blood again.”

Beomgyu hums. Another bite, another press of his fingers to your lips. Slower this time. He smears a touch of broth at the corner of your mouth.

“Oops.”

He doesn’t wipe it with a napkin.

His thumb drags through it slowly instead. It’s obscene. He presses it to your tongue. “Suck,” he whispers, grinning. “Make a mess for me.”

You close your lips around his thumb.

He shudders under you.

A sharp intake of breath comes from the head of the table. Soobin.

Beomgyu’s grin widens. “Look at him,” he croons to the others, low and thick. “Slicking up just from this. Bet I could make him drip right here.”

“You won’t,” Soobin says.

The air tightens. The table holds its breath.

Beomgyu laughs, breathless and wild, but his hands behave after that. Mostly. Unlike Yeonjun, Beomgyu enjoys the game and he’ll play by Soobin’s rules if it suits him. His fingers are gentler when he feeds you the next bite. The lap under you shifts with want, but he doesn’t push. Not yet at least.

You feel it though, all five of them wound tight around the table, every one of them watching how you chew, swallow, breathe.

How you sit and submit.

Soobin’s voice cuts again, low and final.

“Finish eating. Then we’ll decide who gets to fuck you first.”

[ttatteuthae]

the six 1: worldbuilding guide

masterlist

The Choi Clan 

A feared crime family that sits in the upper echelons of the Korean underground while maintaining a pristine corporate empire that functions as a front to conceal illegal activities. 

Their public image: impeccable businessmen, bodyguards, and executives. 

Their true nature: violent, loyal only to each other, and intimately bound by pack instincts. 

Controls significant parts of Seoul as well as other cities in the Gyeonggi and Gyeongsang provinces. 

Following the Korean clan system, the Choi clan is made of several families that share the same last name but different ancestral roots. Each family must pick their heir carefully to ensure the pack that runs the family remains stable. Heirs are expected to mate outside the family to keep the Choi bloodlines from intermarrying and disrupting the balance

Soobin, Yeonjun and Beomgyu are respective Choi heirs to each of their families. Soobin manages the main branch in Seoul, Yeonjun the Gyeonggi branch and Beomgyu the Gyeongsang branch. Taehyun and Kai, like you, married into the Choi clan from other smaller but still influential crime families

As custom, only Soobin, as the Seoul heir, is known to the public and serves as the face of the legal, corporate front. Taehyun and Kai, who are not Chois, also work in prominent positions for the legitimate side of the family business.

Meanwhile, Yeonjun and Beomgyu often pose as bodyguards or mid-level managers when they need to attend legitimate functions but are the most hands-on with underground operations.

Character Profiles 

Choi Soobin — Alpha, leader

Oversees all clan operations, commands respect in both worlds.

Publicly: Cold, eloquent CEO.

Privately: The axis around which the pack turns. He’s methodical, protective, dangerous when provoked.

Dominance comes through restraint. 

Treats you as something to both worship and discipline. 

Choi Yeonjun — Alpha, eldest

Controls the clan’s territory in the Gyeonggi province, oversees arms dealings.

Publicly: Silent bodyguard, ghostlike, eyes unreadable.

Privately: The most intense; devotion and obsession blur.

His violence is precise; his affection for the pack is absolute. 

Choi Beomgyu — Alpha

Controls the clan’s territory in the Gyeongsang province, oversees narcotics and covert trade routes.

Publicly: Charismatic, smiling face of the clan. 

Privately: The most unpredictable, flirtatious when needed, volatile, deeply passionate. 

His love is fire: teasing, consuming, and always a little cruel. 

Kang Taehyun — Beta 

Soobin’s vice president and second-in-command. 

Handles financial networks and money laundering. Came from a family that controls an unassuming high end accounting and banking firm in Gangnam where the underground goes to launder their money. 

Publicly: Polished, brilliant executive. 

Privately: Quietly loyal, emotionally reserved, precise in his touches. 

Finds calm in your presence; occasionally loses it when you manipulate him back. 

Huening Kai — Beta

Soobin’s secretary and the pack’s information broker. His family have run the underground’s information networks and smuggled illegal technology for decades.

Publicly: Innocent, charming.

Privately: Calculating and dangerously observant. 

Loves you with mischief and subtle devotion. He sees through every performance. 

You — Omega

The beloved of the pack, protected and adored. 

Prior to marrying into the clan, you were only partially integrated into Korea’s underground kingdoms as the eldest omega son on your mother’s side, the Im clan, who controls Busan and has a firm grip on black market metals and jewelry in the country, mostly moved through churches. Your father’s side is a well connected extremely wealthy crime family based overseas.

Publicly: Refined, conservative, fragile, graceful, soft-spoken and unthreatening. • Privately: Razor-sharp intellect, manipulative charm, wicked wit.

Uses quiet power to shape outcomes; seduces with intelligence and composure.

Omegaverse Worldbuilding & Social Norms 

Poly packs are normalized and respected.

Alphas have the ability to knot. Instinct may drive them to be territorial or dominant. 

Alphas may refer to older alpha packmates as ‘hyung’ and older omega packmates as ‘noona’ if that is their preference.

Omegas produce slick and have the ability to be knotted and bred.

Omegas may refer to older alpha packmates as ‘oppa’ and older omega packmates as ‘unnie’ if that is their preference.

Betas serve as crucial intermediaries in packs and are the main source of pack stability.

Betas may be referred to by any honorific depending on their preferences.

Author note:

With respect to any gender diverse readers here, the main character is referred to using he/him pronouns, cunt/hole and clit/cock are used interchangeably when describing anatomy and he uses Oppa and Unnie when referring to other characters. TXT also refers to him as their wife.

Full disclosure, I was inspired by DesperatelyObsessional's (Ao3) / @obsessed_n_cute (twt)'s Seoul Kims Omegaverse AU in the worldbuilding of this fic. Gotta acknowledge my sources.

This is how I wrote this fic when I was originally writing it for myself but if any of these concepts make you uncomfortable, please feel free to stop your reading here. Otherwise, please enjoy!

[ttatteuthae]

the six masterlist

AO3 link (contains full list of tags/tws) 1:worldbuilding + character profiles 2:prologue 3:the offering after blood 4: the illusion of eden 5: ??

[ttatteuthae]

Masterlist

TXT the six

Ateez writing soon

AHOF writing soon