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promise i'll stay here all night

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When it starts, it’s a slow burn in the pit of Jimin’s stomach. He’s out past curfew, an unmated omega on the cusp of his heat. It was foolish of him to stay out this late, foolish of him to reject Taehyung’s offer to walk him home from the dance studio, but it’s a choice that Jimin has to live with. His apartment isn’t far, and it won’t take as long if he cuts through one of the back alleys that bisects the block, barely wide enough for two people to walk through shoulder to shoulder.


Ducking into that corridor between buildings is Jimin’s second mistake of the night. It’s a path that he’s taken many times, just not usually alone this late, smelling of pre-heat with a thin sheen of sweat breaking out over his body. He’s so focused on getting home, to the safety of his own bedroom to begin nesting, that he hears them before he smells them: alphas.


They’ve smelled him first. Jimin skids to a stop, lips parted and eyes wide, and he can see the hunger in their eyes, watches the flare of their nostrils as they inhale his scent. One is tall, dark haired with a handsome face but a cruel set to his mouth. The other is smaller, but broader, with sandy hair and a crooked nose like it had been broken and set wrong.


“You look lost, omega,” the handsome one says, pushing off the wall with the tips of his fingers, stalking forward and looking so much like a predator that the inside of Jimin’s mouth goes dry.


“I’m not,” his voice wavers. “I don’t want any trouble—”


The crooked nose alpha stays where he is, eyes narrowed as he watches the other slinking closer and closer. Jimin knows he should run, feels it in his bones, but if he moves now it’s a sign of weakness. And oh , his knees go weak at the smell of an alpha. His traitorous body yearning for a touch that his mind doesn’t want.


A fingertip presses under his chin, tipping Jimin’s head up and back so that the alpha can look him over. Jimin shivers, hands clenched into fists at his sides when the burning in his gut fans out just under the surface of his skin.


“Bare your throat to me, pretty thing,” the alpha commands. “I can smell what you want.”


Jimin knows he’s spiraling and he’s spiraling fast , panting softly as his bottom lip quivers. The first trickle of slick gushes out of him, making him feel wet and dirty .


“I can see you’re struggling.” The alpha’s thumb presses against his bottom lip, pulling down enough to slip the pad of it barely inside Jimin’s mouth. “Why fight me, when your body’s already decided what it wants?”


“I-I’m not looking for an alpha.” Jimin recoils, heart pounding behind his ribs, thighs pressed together. “I just want to get home. Get out of my way!”


Neither alpha likes that, but the handsome one in front of him growls. His upper lip curls back, exposing the points of his eye teeth. “You know what happens to smart-ass omegas like you? They get put in their fucking place.”


Terror sobers Jimin, but he can’t find the breathe to scream, to call for help. He tries to run in the opposite direction, away from the alphas. His sneakers skid on the asphalt but it’s too late, he’s too slow. He cries out, whimpering, when the alpha grabs him by his hair and throws him to the ground.


“Every bitch needs a good alpha to put them on their hands and knees.”


And that’s exactly where Jimin is, with his scraped up palms bleeding onto the concrete, every fiber of his being screaming to submit. Another wave of slick oozes out of body, wetting his underwear until it sticks to his skin. Everything feels numb and it’s almost an out of body experience, watching the alpha crouch in front of him so he can wrench Jimin’s head back with a tight grip on his hair. The pained noise he makes tapers off into a low moan and the alpha scoffs at him.


“I could tear your throat out in seconds .” The dominance in the alpha’s tone makes Jimin’s entire body shake. “Why don’t you roll over and show your stomach like the pitiful little omega you are?”


“Not like this,” Jimin slurs, tongue thick in his mouth, pheromones clouding his other senses. There’s gravel digging into his knees through his jeans, palms and scalp stinging. “I don’t want it to be like this—”


“I can smell your slick,” the alpha cuts him off, eyes blown and nostrils flaring. “Can smell how bad you want a knot. Wouldn’t that feel good? Me holding you down and making you take it?”


Jimin’s belly twists and he swallows down the sob in the back of his throat. Oh, that’s what his body craves . To be worked open on an alpha’s knot until he’s crying, stretched out so good that it hurts , pumped so full of cum that his belly swells with it. But it’s not what he wants, not with these two strangers, exploiting his weaknesses and using his heat against him. Jimin’s willpower is diminishing, the wolf inside him convincing him to submit, but the hand in his hair is gone and the scent of pine and smoke fills his lungs.


“Get your filthy paws off of him. Now.”


There’s a growl overhead that makes Jimin want to roll belly up, but instead all he can do is brace himself on his hands and knees, panting for air as his body cramps up.


“Fuck off,” this time the second alpha —the blonde one— says from several paces back. He’s finally stepping up, the soles of his boots loud on the pavement. “We saw ‘im first. Get your own.”


“Want me to call the police?”


The stranger’s voice is somewhat familiar to Jimin.


“Or do you want to visit the hospital then go to the police station? Your pick.”


Jimin’s vision blurs and he whines, wants nothing more than to curl up on the ground and present himself, to bare his throat for someone, anyone , who can make the cramping in his belly go away.


“He’s not worth it,” the first alpha spits, rising up from his crouch. “ Pathetic.


The second alpha curls his lips in a snarl, but he turns around, stalking back down the way they came. Jimin remains on the ground even when they’ve disappeared around the corner, shuddering and gasping when there’s a solid hand on his shoulder. The alpha’s outdoorsy musk is enough for Jimin’s blood to run hot under his skin.


“Are you okay? Did you— shit, you’re bleeding.”


Jimin eases up as he’s lifted from the ground, legs wobbling, pieces of gravel falling from his clothes once he’s on his feet. He’s bleary-eyed, but he blinks into the face of Kim Namjoon, a sociology major in his class, his handsome features twisted up in concern. The hand on Jimin’s shoulder is gentle, surprisingly gentle for an alpha of Namjoon’s stature and size, and his deep voice is soothing. Jimin leans into him for support.


“I— I need to get you out of here. Get you cleaned up.” Namjoon glances around, breaking their eye contact, and Jimin can see that he too is struggling with controlling his hormones. Being around an unmated omega in heat affects every unmated alpha, even the ones with the strongest resolves. His nose wrinkles but he pulls himself back together. “I’ll take you to my place, probably closer than yours. Can you walk?”


He tries to stand up on his own, really he does, but Jimin’s already heat-weak and Namjoon’s smell isn’t helping. Sagging against the alpha, Jimin buries his face against the broad expanse of Namjoon’s chest, clings to his shirt with a quiet, desperate noise. “ Please .”


Namjoon’s scent almost makes Jimin double over in want , mindlessly moving his hips in sharp, jerky motions against the alpha’s clothed thigh.


Namjoon chokes on a breath as Jimin ruts against his thigh, and the omega whines when he’s nudged aside. The alpha’s eyes flash gold for a second but the color dies down as quickly as it had come.


“Get. . . get on my back.” He crouches down, holding his backpack in his hand to make room for Jimin.


It takes a little maneuvering but Jimin manages to listen, mostly due to the fact that  —even if Namjoon didn’t realize it— in this delicate state Jimin is in no position to ignore a direct order from an alpha. His motions are a little jerky and disjointed as he presses his chest to Namjoon’s back, laces his small hands together across the alpha’s neck. When Namjoon stands, Jimin can’t help but let out a little squeak, immediately hooking his thighs around the alpha’s waist. Namjoon hoists Jimin up further before they scoot out of the alley and back on the sidewalks.


Jimin can feel the fast fluttering of Namjoon’s pulse from the position of his hand on the alpha’s throat, the quick putter putter of it against his palm. His shoulders are tense and his jaw is squared as he carries Jimin. Even so, Namjoon walks briskly, his long, lean legs carrying him far, moving them away from the campus outskirts to just beyond that, where students reside in apartments off-campus once they’re upperclassmen. His eyes are half shut on the whole way to Namjoon’s apartment, overcome with the smell of Namjoon, of any alpha around, his breathing harsh as the scents invade his nostrils. All he hears is the jingling of keys twice and Namjoon swearing under his breath and then the sound of a door locking before he realizes they’ve made it to the apartment.


It reeks of Namjoon.


“You should take a bath, get that blood and dirt off you,” Namjoon mumbles, fumbling with his shoes and backpack before he and Jimin walk down the hallway, all the lights in the apartment turned off. They shuffle around in the darkness, walking into the bedroom and then the bathroom. Jimin squints when the lights are turned on. “Sit here for a second.”


Jimin releases his grip on the alpha and obediently flops down on the toilet seat, the blood on his hands and knees now dried, mixing with dirt and asphalt and other organic materials. He doesn’t want to sit here, so he weakly sets his feet on the floor, but Namjoon turns around as he’s drawing a hot bath.




Jimin’s mouth opens and closes as he squirms in place, wincing when he drags his palms over his thighs out of habit. “I don’t need a bath,” he protests softly, surprising even himself that he gets out all the words in the right order without slurring or stuttering.


Everything in him melts at how worried Namjoon is. His inner wolf preens at being so well taken care of by an alpha. But a bath isn’t what Jimin wants anymore. He’s seconds away from begging Namjoon to fuck him. He’d be so good , Jimin knows it, so kind and caring but he’d give Jimin whatever it is that he asks.


Namjoon’s nostrils flare but he only casts another glance over his shoulder. “Well, you need to clean all that blood and dirt off or you’re going to get an infection. A bath would do you good. Might help you relax.”


Jimin pouts, bottom lip pushed out further than his top one. What would really help him relax right now is being home in his dorm in the center of his nest with his favorite knotted dildo. But he knows that’s nothing compared to the real thing, being able to have an alpha press bruises into his skin, bite at the back of his neck—


His underwear and jeans are soaked with slick. A red stained blush creeps slowly up the side of his neck until Jimin feels dizzy. “‘M about to be in heat. A bath isn’t going to help me.”


Namjoon turns off the tap, the tub just barely half full. “I’m still cleaning that blood off you, whether you like it or not, Jimin-ah. Just sit on the edge of the tub. Please?”


It takes a few seconds for Jimin to be able to stand on his own, wobbling as he takes the two steps he needs towards the tub. On the last one, he braces his hand on Namjoon’s shoulder for support. It’s a mistake to look into the alpha’s face again, to watch his pupils dilate and his nostrils flare. His knees buckle, a wave of arousal wracking his tiny body so hard that Jimin has to dig his nails into Namjoon’s shirt, enough slick pooling out of him that he’s sure these underwear are ruined.


Namjoon swallows thickly but guides Jimin down to sit on the edge, stumbling as he stands up and moves over to the counter. He rummages through before digging out a washcloth, bandages, and antiseptic. “T-take off your jeans. I won’t look at you, I promise, I’ll give you clothes and whatever else you need afterwards. Your jeans are ripped anyways, I can’t. . . can’t really clean you up with them on.”


Jimin grits his teeth, but begins to work on undoing the button and zipper holding the waist of his jeans in place. Namjoon’s right. The knees of his jeans are shredded now, sticky with blood. And his palms are raw, any blood almost all clotted but there's still dirt in the scrapes. The fabric makes a wet noise as he slides his pants down past his knees, struggling to kick them off his ankles. The sweet smell of his heat doubles with only the thin, slick soaked fabric of his boxers in the way, sending Jimin’s eyes rolling back into his head, having to grip the edge of the tub for support.


“Jesus,” he hears Namjoon hiss under his breath, eyes flashing gold. This time the color remains for longer before gradually disappearing, almost like Namjoon is starting to lose his patience with his hormones. Jimin’s scent is sweet, enough for Namjoon’s mouth to water, but the alpha sits down beside the omega and instructs him to put his feet in the water. Jimin does as he’s told, grits his teeth as Namjoon splashes warm water over his knees, holding the bottle of antiseptic in his hand. “This is going to sting.”


‘Sting’ doesn't even begin to describe the active burn of antiseptic dripping over Jimin’s broken skin. He can't help the whimper that spills out of his lips, the pain just barely sobering him out of his heat addled mind. Namjoon is careful as he cleans Jimin’s knees, swiping gauze over any dirt and debris that lingers.


“Thank you,” Jimin says, wiggling his toes in the water. “If you hadn't come, I would have let them— They would have—”


Namjoon cups his hands and pours water over Jimin’s knees until they’re mostly clean. Hopefully he doesn’t get an infection, but all he can do for now is bandage the tender flesh and move on. “Don’t think about it. They’re the ones who can’t control themselves around an omega. You were born an omega, and unfortunate things happen because of that, but it is not your fault. They should have been raised better.”


He tears off strips of gauze and gently lifts Jimin’s legs, inhaling his sweet scent as he bandages up one knee and quickly moves to the other. “What were you doing out so late? Weren’t you supposed to be. . .nesting?”


“Dance practice,” Jimin says, shivering as Namjoon’s fingertips brush his thighs. “Thought I had another day before. . . this. I’m pretty terrible at tracking my cycle.”


The alpha manages a weak smile, bandaging up Jimin’s other knee and reaching out for his hands. “You should keep track of that from now on, yeah?”


He’s gentle, upturning Jimin’s wrists. “This’ll sting some more. Almost done.”


Namjoon’s fingers are so long . His hands engulf Jimin’s smaller ones and the omega bites his lower lip, imagines how good they'd feel stretching him out, reaching far deeper than Jimin’s own smaller, chubbier fingers ever can. And god , he's so wet that Namjoon could probably slide two of them inside, crook them until Jimin’s whining, crying for more—


The smarting pain of antiseptic wrenches Jimin out of his thoughts, and Namjoon holds both of his wrists in one hand so that the omega can't jerk them away.


He fidgets on the tub and gnaws on his lip as Namjoon swiftly cleans his palms and begins wrapping them with bandages. He’s careful to wrap up his palms, just like his knees, their knuckles brushing.


“There, all done.”


Namjoon stands, leaning over to empty out the tub and gather his supplies. “I can grab a spare change of clothes.”


Namjoon .” Jimin’s normally careful to avoid alphas whenever he's nearing his heat, so he blames all the pheromones swirling in the air for why this one feels so intense. With the pain of having his scrapes disinfected gone, his belly cramps up and the pain is so severe he doubles over. “I-I don't want clothes. I w-want you to help me.”


The alpha slowly shuts the cabinet after putting away the antiseptic, craning his head back to peek at Jimin, his brows furrowed. His throat bobs with a heavy swallow. It hurts him to see Jimin in pain, but he’s hesitant. Very hesitant.


His voice is dry when he speaks. “Jimin, I don’t. . .  t-that’s not a good idea. Whatever you’re thinking—”


“It hurts ,” Jimin lets out a shaky exhale, arms wrapped tight around his middle. “I-I’ll be good. I can take it, w-whatever you want.” Vaguely, Jimin’s aware that he's babbling, but he's not home and everything smells of alphaalphaalpha and his traitorous body doesn't show any signs of letting up.


The air thickens and once again, Namjoon’s eyes flicker gold, his fingers twitching against the counter. He’s clinging to the last bit of restraint he has left. “T-that’s just the heat talking. You smell me, you’re in my apartment, so your pheromones are all over the place. Don’t be rash.”


“Y-You don't want me?” Somehow that hurts more than anything, that Namjoon would deny him: an omega in the beginning throes of heat. Jimin’s made a fool of himself. Stupid , he berates himself, the burn of tears collecting in his lashes.


Namjoon pushes off the counter and he’s right there in front of Jimin within a few seconds, his eyes frantic, apologetic. “N-no, Jimin, that’s not what I meant,” he says in a hurry, reaching out to help, but he doesn’t know what to do. Idiot. “I’ve wanted you for so long—”


He glances away, out of shyness,  voice just a whisper. “I do want you. But. . . you’re in heat, you’re unmated, and it’s just. . . it’s just that I don’t want to hurt you. You hardly know me, a-and you’re asking so much from me—”


Jimin blinks up and his eyes are wet. “I know you're a good person. Y-You could have left me there and you didn't and— and you won't hurt me, Namjoon, just please . I-It’s going to hurt more if you don't.”


Namjoon’s teeth grit but Jimin’s eyes are so hopeful, lips so round and plush when he pleads for help—.


Jimin gasps when Namjoon kisses him fully on the mouth, pliant and willing under the alpha’s touch. A surge of his pheromones seep into the air and Namjoon groans into Jimin’s mouth, hands finding the supple curve of the omega’s waist to tug him forward and press his body right against his. It feels right, being in Namjoon’s arms, kissing him, and another wave of slick dampens his boxers.


He whines when Namjoon pulls back, his eyes unfocused and glazed over. “I want your knot,” he breathes, tilts his head back as Namjoon trails his lips along Jimin’s jawline, scenting him properly for the first time. “W-Want it so bad—”


Namjoon nuzzles his face into Jimin’s neck, mouthing along his skin, inhaling his succulent smell. He smells of everything pretty under the sun and it has Namjoon’s alpha instincts raging. He grabs at Jimin’s ass, squeezing with both hands, feeling just how soaked his boxers are. “ Fuck, you’re so wet,” the alpha groans, squeezing harder and hoisting Jimin up, helping him loosely wrap his legs around his waist as Namjoon carries him back into the bedroom.


Jimin whines, trying to rut into Namjoon, but the alpha just rolls him on to the bed and clambers over his body. Namjoon ducks down and he can’t help but scent Jimin even more, bury his face into the omega’s neck and suck bruises into his skin, fingers hiking up his shirt around his chest, hands skimming the expanse of taut muscle and soft flesh.


“I’m not stopping now,” Namjoon rumbles, fingers just brushing Jimin’s perky nipples, relishing in the choked off moan he makes. “You want me to knot you?”


Yes .” It’s almost a sob as Jimin twists underneath the alpha’s hands, hips jerking without rhythm. His bandaged hands curl around Namjoon’s biceps, nails digging into the swell of muscle. “Alpha,” he mewls, falling farther into the headspace of his heat. “N-Need you.”


His back arches clear off the bed as Namjoon presses the pads of his thumbs against the omega’s nipples, swirling them until Jimin chokes on the needy noises spilling out of his mouth.


As tempting as it is to strip Jimin and fuck him right now, that’s not the best idea. He’s not going to be that impatient for this, not with Jimin. He deserves better.


Namjoon’s mouth leaves Jimin’s neck and his hands shove Jimin’s shirt higher, until he manages to get it off of him, mouth latching on to one of Jimin’s nipples. He plays with the other, pinching the bud between his fingers, other hand pinning Jimin to the bed. The omega cries out and keens into the touch, rocking his hips upward, mewling as Namjoon plays with him. His first orgasm is already about to hit him and he’s barely been touched.


Oh he whimpers, cranes his neck back to that the curve of his neck is exposed.


All it takes it another suck, another press of Namjoon’s tongue and Jimin comes in his boxers, thrashing as the aftershocks wrack his slim form. Slick smears all down his thighs, drenching the sheets underneath them. Everything's sticky and hot and Jimin’s core aches , twisting with the need to be filled. He’s flushed with want and embarrassment as Namjoon grinds a thigh between his legs. “Joon, I’m m-making a mess of your bed—”


Namjoon places a sloppy kiss to the center of Jimin’s chest. “Now you think about that?” he mutters, with a laugh, sitting up and taking hold of Jimin’s boxers. Jimin is still hard, but he’s soaked. He tucks his fingers under the waistband and drags Jimin’s boxers down over his hips, then thighs, discarding the soiled underwear in the trash can next to the bed. The omega doesn’t necessarily hide himself, but he goes shy under Namjoon’s golden gaze, squeaking when his legs are hoisted up. He’s made a mess all over his stomach, cum cooling in the divots of his abdomen.


“God, you’re so beautiful, so perfect.” Namjoon presses his thumb right against Jimin’s baby pink hole, watching as slick continues to trickle out from his body. Jimin whines, legs held in the air, exposed for the alpha. While Namjoon’s fully dressed, Jimin is naked, oozing all over the bed, inhaling sharply as Namjoon rubs his index finger over Jimin’s hole to coat it in slick and slide it past his rim. His finger slides in with such ease that he’s buried to the knuckle within a second.


Jimin fists his hands into the pillow behind his head, jaw going slack. “ Hnng


It’s just as easy to squeeze in a second finger alongside the first without even moving his index finger. Jimin’s just that wet, that open.


“Such a pretty little omega, already taking two fingers. You’re soaked for me.”


Jimin pants. The praise makes him hot, eyes screwed shut as he focuses on the sensation of being full as Namjoon scissors his fingers. His ankles rest just over the alpha’s shoulders and Namjoon braces his forearm against the omega’s thighs to force them back even further.


It’s not enough , not even when Namjoon slips a third finger in. It doesn't matter that his fingers are thicker, longer than Jimin’s own stubby ones, but it isn't a knot . He’s already rock hard again, a pit forming in his stomach when Namjoon rubs his fingers against his prostate. Jimin cries out and his voice is reduced to a whimper, sloppily rocking his hips down as Namjoon pumps three fingers in and out of Jimin, obscene squelch resounding from the amount of slick Jimin’s producing. Namjoon’s pheromones have Jimin’s eyes rolling in the back of his head, the smell of pine and smoke invading every pore of his body.


M-more ,” he slurs, toes curling in the air over Namjoon’s shoulders. He’s afraid he’ll come again, empty , his body craves the stretch of a knot, of being bred by an alpha, fucked full of so much cum that he can't not get pregnant—


“One more time,” Namjoon rumbles, slowing the movement of his fingers so they still, pressed right up against Jimin’s prostate. The stimulation has Jimin trembling with need. “Come one more time.”


He whimpers Namjoon’s name as the next climax rolls over him, every muscle in the omega’s body locking as stars dance behind his tightly closed eyelids. The alpha prolongs it, squeezes in a fourth finger with a lewd sounding squelch. Namjoon stretches Jimin wide, spreading his fingers inside the omega until his chest quivers and he gasps, eyes glazed over and blown out with pleasure. He’s already come twice and Namjoon hasn’t done much.


Cum stains Jimin’s chest, tears pricking the corners of his lashes when he blinks his eyes open. It’s Namjoon’s cue, and one by one he removes his fingers, a flood of slick following his digits, dirtying the bedsheets below. Namjoon just wipes his fingers on the sheets, only three of the four, because he raises his index finger to his mouth out of curiosity.


The smell of Jimin’s sweet slick has Namjoon’s mind spinning. He pops the finger into his mouth, tasting Jimin on his tongue. His pupils expand immediately upon the first taste and he groans, removing his finger and wiping it on the sheets. He could fucking drown on that alone.


“Fuck, you’re so sweet, taste so good,” the alpha praises, fumbling with his clothes to get them off, Jimin’s legs flopping to the mattress as he gets a moment to breathe.


It’s a mad rush as Namjoon all but tears off his hoodie and rips his jeans and boxers off within a matter of seconds, shoving his clothes aside and spitting into the palm of his hand. He curls his hand around his hard cock, pumping with his fist, Jimin’s legs dropping open eagerly with his arousal.


He needs Namjoon inside him, and his mouth almost waters at the sight of the alpha fucking into the circle of his own fingers. He scrambles, stumbles to change position, until his chest presses into the sheets, the rest of his weight supported on his knees. With his ass in the air, Jimin knows that Namjoon won't be able to resist him but he still works his hips in a slow circle, moaning at the low growl it pulls from the alpha behind him.


Namjoon’s large hands grapple Jimin’s waist, his fingers only inches away from meeting at Jimin’s naval, and the omega whines when Namjoon stills the movement of his hips. Jimin puts a deep arch into his spine and he keens forward as rather gentle, open-mouth kisses are placed along his back and all the way up to his nape. There’s this inclination for Jimin to tip his head to the side, expose his neck in an act of submission for the alpha, but he knows better. Namjoon knows better.


Teeth nibble along his shoulder and Namjoon’s deep, raspy voice vibrates in Jimin’s throat when Namjoon speaks into his neck.


“Are you sure about this?”


Fuck me, Namjoon, please Jimin ruts back with a guttural moan, trembling when he feels the heavy girth of Namjoon’s cock slide up the slick soaked cleft of his ass. “W-Want your knot—”


Namjoon’s inhale is stuttery and he swears,  placing a chaste kiss to Jimin’s nape when he pulls back. “Tell me if I hurt you, okay?”


Jimin only mumbles incoherently in response, anticipation bubbling in his veins, his heart thumping as Namjoon places a hand on the bed right besides Jimin’s head. The hand on Jimin’s hip leaves, and Namjoon grips the base of his cock, sliding between Jimin’s cheeks to coat himself in the mess of his slick. He’s gentle, treating Jimin like porcelain as he finally, finally slides his cock into Jimin’s wet heat, pushing in slowly, a breath of air whooshing out from his chest at the relief of finally fucking Jimin. It’s been a thought in the back of his mind, something he only ever thought about when he was at home and not in Jimin’s presence, but he never imagined he would feel this good


Namjoon’s hand curls around Jimin’s hip as he bottoms out. Jimin pants, his arms just barely holding himself up. Namjoon stretches Jimin wide open on his dick and rubs his thumb into Jimin’s skin, rocking back and forth experimentally to gauge Jimin’s reaction and adjust from there. Jimin’s so pretty, from his personality to his omega body, perfectly suited for pleasing an alpha or whoever’s lucky enough to have him. He’s never seen anyone as perfect as Park Jimin.


“You’re so perfect,” Namjoon murmurs, running his hand up along Jimin’s ribcage and then back down to his hips, giving the supple flesh a tender squeeze. “Wish I could breed you. Mate you. Make you mine.”


Jimin keens, digging his fingertips into the blankets as his body adjusts. No toy ever feels this good, has ever split him open so well. But he's greedy , fucks himself back until he feels the press of Namjoon’s thickening knot. “ Alpha ,” he whines, drool spilling out of the corner of his mouth as Namjoon’s large hands press into his hips a little harder. “Yours, yours, please —”


The alpha hisses, lets Jimin have his fun for a moment before he grips Jimin tight and slams into him once. Jimin’s gasp is sharp, his body jolting forward, but he’s moaning, babbling nonsense when Namjoon snaps his hips forward a second, and then a third time. Slick drips out and over Namjoon’s pelvis and thighs, creating this wet-sounding squelch with every thrust in.


The omega’s body tenses but he takes it, high pitched moans and gasps leaving his lips as Namjoon sets a fast pace, his hips smacking into Jimin’s ass with enough force for Jimin to shift higher up on the bed and drop to his forearms when his arms give out. Namjoon’s alpha headspace is beginning to take control over him, instincts pushing him to fuck Jimin and breed him, pump him so full of cum—


Namjoon’s hand snakes up Jimin’s frame until it’s pressing down on the back of Jimin’s neck. With a whimper, the omega understands, falling flat to the bed, cheek smushed into the pillows. He spreads his legs wider and Namjoon fits between them, knees nearly pressing down on Jimin’s thighs to keep him pinned, pressing their sweaty bodies together. Jimin is pliant in Namjoon’s touch.


He dominates Jimin, caging in the omega with his much larger frame, kissing along his nape and shoulders as he fucks Jimin right into the mattress, barely a second passing by between his thrusts. The bed shakes with the force but Namjoon pays no mind. He’ll fuck Jimin on every surface of this goddamned apartment if he has to.


The base of Namjoon’s cock is beginning to swell enough for his knot to catch on the omega’s rim. He’s careful to not prematurely shove his knot into Jimin, only easing up when Jimin’s on the border of climaxing, sobbing into the sheets from the pleasure. He hiccups, barely able to communicate with a sentence, but Namjoon nips at Jimin’s ear with his canines in encouragement.


“So good for me, Jiminie, aren’t you?”


Yes , Jimin wants to say, but he can't. All he can do is make wet, little gasping noises with each snap of Namjoon’s hips, eyes rolling back into his head. Every time he feels the alpha’s knot pressing against his body, he shudders, trying to relax enough that his body will accept it. But his belly keeps cramping up, and all the pheromones make him dizzy, heightening every drag of his skin against the sheets, every noise, every pulse of Namjoon’s cock inside him.


Reaching up and back, Jimin hooks his fingers into the back of Namjoon’s hair, forcing the alpha closer until his lips stay pressed just behind Jimin’s ear. Namjoon growls in the back of his throat, gripping the sheets tight. Jimin’s body shivers, a breathless whine of Namjoon’s name leaving his lips when he comes, clenching down tight around Namjoon. It’s harder for Namjoon to knot Jimin that way, and he grinds slowly against Jimin, coaxing him to relax. It’s Jimin’s first time with a real knot, he gets that, but he’s a little impatient being this close.


“Relax,” Namjoon rumbles against Jimin’s ear, the omega panting from his orgasm, fingers curled tight in Namjoon’s hair to keep him grounded. Jimin relaxes just enough for Namjoon to surge forward, shoving his knot inside with a snarl. His hips jerk as he empties his load into the omega, tears pricking in Jimin’s eyes from the burn of the stretch, staccato breaths leaving him as he adjusts to the knot.


Fuck ,” Jimin squeezes his eyes shut, tears streaking down the sides of his face. “It’s so big , oh my god —”


The pulse of Namjoon’s knot presses right up against the edge of his prostate and Jimin comes again , body squeezing tight to milk the alpha of everything he has. Namjoon hisses, fighting to keep his hips still as he fills Jimin to the brim the first time, gritting his teeth with the clench down of Jimin’s warm body.




Namjoon’s voice is husky, nose bumping Jimin’s cheek to get his attention, nuzzling into his wet cheeks to soothe him. They’re locked together now for who knows how long, and Namjoon tries to make it comfortable, but frankly, he hasn’t used this much energy in awhile and he knows he can’t stay on his hands the whole time.


“Lay on your side. I’ll help.”


Jimin doesn't even realize that he's still trembling until Namjoon readjusts them as best he can, not without them both making quiet noises of pain as Namjoon’s knot resettles. A chill settles over Jimin’s body but Namjoon cages him in with his warm arms, face buried in the crook of Jimin’s neck.


“T-Thank you, Namjoon,” Jimin whispers, winding all of his fingers around the alpha’s forearm. “Feels so good, so full .”


Namjoon breathes softly against Jimin’s hair, resting his chin atop his head. “You’re welcome,” he hums, heart fluttering in his chest for a brief moment. “You can leave whenever you want, if you want to go back home—”


Jimin makes a distraught sort of noise, high pitched and whimpering, and his fingers dig even harder into Namjoon’s arm. “No— I-I want to stay. If that's okay. My waves are pretty close together at first, and I don't want to be alone.”


Namjoon’s inhale is heavy, but he’s relieved. Not to mention ecstatic, maybe nervous. He noses into Jimin's soft hair. “Stay as long as you'd like, Jiminie. I won't leave you alone.”


Laughing at that, Jimin hooks his foot over Namjoon's calf, making himself even more comfortable in the alpha’s hold. “Sorry. . . I’m sure this isn't how you planned spending your evening.”


“I wasn’t going to do anything anyways,” Namjoon hums. “Besides, I’m glad I can help. Gets a lil’ lonely here sometimes.”


“Hmph. Don't understand how an alpha like you could be lonely.”


Namjoon quirks a brow. “What do you mean by that?”


“I. . . you just— you always have omegas and betas talking to you in class. You could have your pick. . .”


Namjoon lifts his head from Jimin’s hair and glances down, blinking in a stupor. “You’ve noticed?”


He is friendly with the other students, and some are much more friendly to him in particular than other alphas, but for Jimin to notice something like that. . .


“I never really cared. . . I was more focused on you and trying to get your attention.”


Jimin doesn't say anything for a long moment. “Oh. . . is that why you always let me borrow your pencil for the tests?”


With a soft hum, Namjoon flops his head against the pillow, a noticeable pink flush on his cheeks. “Yeah, you could say that. Just wanted you to acknowledge me. I mean, I thought my crushing was pretty obvious—”


A giggle cuts him off. “I’m not really good at subtle hints.”


“I guess I didn’t try hard enough,” he murmurs, voice laced with hints of embarrassment. He shifts, jostling Jimin in the process, their bodies pressed together under the blanket. “You should get some rest. I’m thinking you’ll be here for another two days at least.”


The omega makes a soft noise of agreement, his grip on Namjoon’s arm going slack as his breathing begins to even out. He’s asleep even before Namjoon’s knot shrinks down, lightly snoring, chest rising and falling with each breath. Namjoon pulls out slowly as to not wake the omega and cradles him against his chest. He’ll need to prepare himself for the days to come with Jimin, especially if the omega plans on staying here to spend his heat.


Jimin is warm against his chest and Namjoon wraps an arm around the omega’s waist and nuzzles into his hair, inhaling his sweet, citrusy scent before he drifts off for the night.





Over the course of the next two days, Jimin stays holed up in Namjoon’s apartment. He doesn’t leave to go anywhere, not while he’s in his heat, and not when he has an alpha around to look after him. Namjoon is just so considerate and so focused on Jimin that he can’t not stay.


They spend all day in the apartment, whether it be just simply chatting and getting to know each other more or having sex. It’s mostly sex, given that Jimin’s hormones are off the charts now that he’s had a real knot, and Namjoon’s indulges Jimin in whatever he wants. Namjoon refuses to knot Jimin until the end, however, which heat-inebriated Jimin is obviously miffed about, but Namjoon promises to make it up to the omega one way or another. Until then, they’re to soil every surface of the alpha’s apartment.


The bed is filthy and after two cycles of laundry, Namjoon threw in the towel. It’s too much work, which is why they’ve resorted to moving about the apartment, defiling surfaces they know they shouldn’t but they do anyways. Namjoon’s bent Jimin over the kitchen table and counters numerous times already. They’ve been on the floor, up against the wall, in the shower, in the kitchen. . . it’s exhausting, but they make it work. Namjoon makes it work, and Jimin feels bad, forcing Namjoon out of naps and sleep because of his heat, keeping him away from class and his friends, but Namjoon continues to reassure Jimin that it’s alright, he’s here to help. Now that they’re nearing the end, Jimin just wants it to be over.


They’re both tired and Jimin’s beginning to feel impatient. He wants to go outside, get back on track with his life, and he’s thrilled when it’s the last day. His heat’s already crested and instead of feeling like he's burning alive, it's a slow warmth in his belly that wakes Jimin on the morning of the third day.


It must be early in the morning, judging from the color of the light peeking through Namjoon’s curtains. The alpha’s still sprawled out, asleep on his back with his mouth half opened. Jimin smiles, rolls over onto his side with a groan and a pout when he realizes he's already hard. The friction of the sheets feels good and he doesn't want to wake Namjoon, not yet, not when the alpha’s already taken such good care of him.


So Jimin presses his face into the pillow beneath his head, slowly working his hips in a tight little circle until he whimpers quietly. He’s not loud enough to wake Namjoon, but the alpha stirs, shutting his mouth and turning his head to the side. Jimin ruts into the sheets again with a breathy moan.


There's been almost no point in wearing clothes because they just get ripped off or soiled so it's easy for Jimin to reach back and slide two fingers inside himself with a wet sounding squelch. His belly cramps, eager for something more than the stretch of his little fingers but Jimin just grits his teeth and grinds down on the mattress a little harder, crooks his fingers inside himself and whines when he can't get deep enough.


By now, Namjoon is waking, no doubt by the smell of Jimin’s pheromones through the air. When his eyes blink open, they’re gold, and he swears when he catches a glimpse of Jimin. His voice is thick with sleep and raspy, and it sends a warm shiver through Jimin’s body, whining and keening for the alpha.


“Jimin, what did I—”


“S-sorry, I didn't want to wake you,” Jimin chokes out, “You looked. . . tired.”


Namjoon props himself up on his elbows, ash brown hair tousled from sleep. His eyes drift over to Jimin, sprawled out on the bed, and his nostrils flare.


“Are you. . . fingering yourself?”


Jimin flushes all the way down his chest, turning his head away in embarrassment. “I-I can't help it,” he tries to explain.


Still bleary eyed, Namjoon leans over, running his palm down the length of Jimin’s spine, right down the curve of his back. “Keep going,” the alpha murmurs, nudging the sheets away from the bed, voice low and husky. “I wanna see you cum.”


Shivering at Namjoon’s touch, Jimin can't help but spread his legs wider, roll fully onto his belly so that he can get a better angle. He’s been spoiled, and squeezing in a third finger almost does nothing more than make the omega frustrated. “ Namjoon ,” he pleads, circling his pinky finger against his hole. “Help me.”


“I’ve got you, Jimin.”


Namjoon reaches out for Jimin’s wrist, gently pulling it back until his fingers slip free. Jimin whines, hand twitching in Namjoon’s hold, hips rutting into the sheets to make up for the lack of contact. His body becomes pliant when Namjoon’s hand are on him, neck bared in submission, breathy squeak escaping him as the alpha shifts and drags him closer. Jimin slides along the sheets until Namjoon has him where he wants him, long fingers wrapped all the way around his little waist.


“You smell so good,” Namjoon murmurs, keeping one hand on Jimin’s waist, the other traveling to his ass, where he spreads him and teases Jimin’s rim with his thumb. Jimin jerks, rutting back, but the touch is fleeting, only lasts for a few seconds.


The omega groans. “ Namjoon ,” he pleads, a whine in his voice, “please, please , just—”


His voice tapers off into a breathy cry when Namjoon suddenly hoists his lower half up and runs the flat of his tongue right over Jimin’s hole. The alpha growls and grips Jimin tighter, lapping up the trail of slick before sliding his tongue past Jimin’s rim. Jimin shudders and his body automatically jumps forward, but Namjoon snarls from where his face is buried between Jimin’s cheeks, yanking Jimin back into place so he can fuck Jimin on his tongue.


The alpha’s snarl makes Jimin go slack, gasping as his fingers twist into the sheets. Every lick of Namjoon’s tongue, the press of his lips, pulls hiccuping little noises from Jimin’s mouth until he's panting, whining, trying to press his thighs together, but Namjoon forces them apart and thrusts his tongue deeper. It’s sloppy and wet, and all Jimin can do is lay there and take it, toes curling as heat crawls up his spine, twisting his insides into a pleasurable knot that tightens and bursts when Namjoon digs his fingers into Jimin’s skin. He comes so hard that his entire body shakes with the force of it, choking on the moan that gets stuck in his throat.


Namjoon prolongs the shockwaves of pleasure by circling his tongue around Jimin’s rim, nipping at the swell of his ass to leave faint marks before Jimin whimpers and begins to tremble from the overstimulation. The alpha growls softly before he releases the omega, letting him fall to the bed to catch his breath. There are new crescent shaped marks on Jimin’s thighs and waist that blend in with marks from the previous day, the curve of his spine glistening with a thin sheen of sweat.


Jimin looks over the curve of his shoulder, cheeks flushed a pretty pink. He wants . His belly’s tight with arousal, cramping up with need. “Fuck me,” he demands, but his voice trembles. “O-one more time.”


There’s a hunger in Namjoon’s eyes as he wipes the back of his hand over his mouth and chin. He’s not one to deny Jimin, but the realization that Jimin’s heat is almost over begins to settle in.


“Is it going to be over?”


“I. . . think so.”


Namjoon crawls over Jimin’s form, the bed creaking under his weight. He hovers over Jimin’s back, arms on either side of his head, eyes more alert and awake.


The alpha ducks down to nose along Jimin’s shoulders and then his neck, slotting his mouth over the juncture between both. He scents Jimin, nostrils flaring when he smells a new wave of slick, but he places a gentle open-mouthed kiss to Jimin’s jaw and nuzzles against him.


“I want you to face me, little omega. One last time.”


The flush on Jimin’s cheeks spreads down to his collarbones, and he allows himself to a moment to be still, to savor the feeling of Namjoon’s protective alpha presence looming over him, before he tries to wiggle onto his back. His own cum is smeared over his low belly but Jimin doesn't care. They’ve both been a mess since his heat started.


“Can— Will you give me your knot?”


Namjoon shifts to allow Jimin to move, one of his hands gliding across Jimin’s outer thigh, over the thick muscle and smooth skin. He hesitates, encouraging Jimin to slowly wrap his legs around his waist, before he nods.


“If you want me to,” he murmurs, adjusting their position on the bed. “Do you want it?”


This time Jimin is the one to thread his arms around Namjoon’s neck, arching his body so that he can press their mouths together. “ Please ,” he murmurs against Namjoon’s lips, sealing the plea with another soft kiss.


Namjoon pecks Jimin on the corner of his mouth and holds him with one hand, the other wrapping around his cock, gently rocking himself against the slick between Jimin’s thighs. The omega’s chest arches when Namjoon then pushes into him, into the tight clench of his body, kissing him again in the process. Jimin’s fingers scrape along Namjoon’s shoulders and the alpha hums, burying himself to the hilt like he’s done every single time, shuddering at the warmth around him.


This time, they don’t frantically try to fuck; Namjoon’s caring, protective nature is overpowering the heat-laden mindset he’s had for the past two days, the first couple of rocks of his hips gentle and not overbearing. They’ve only focused on the heat and reducing it and not each other, but now Namjoon has the time and patience to kiss his way down Jimin’s neck, laving his tongue across his skin and nipping with his teeth to leave his mark on the omega. Jimin isn’t his omega, he knows that, but his alpha headspace has him scenting Jimin like he belongs to him, sucking bruises into his skin that he knows will last for days and have Jimin thinking of Namjoon every time he looks in the mirror.


God , I wish you were mine,” Namjoon murmurs, rocking steadily into Jimin, peppering kisses along the curve of his jaw. “Treat you right. Make you my pretty omega.”


Jimin presses his heels into Namjoon's low back, his head thrown back and hair splayed out over the sheets. He keens, twisting his fingers into Namjoon’s hair, letting the words wash over him icy-hot.


This time it feels like Namjoon is taking him apart. Every slow motion, the way their mouths meet, the drag of Jimin’s blunt nails over Namjoon’s skin, it's all amplified and it's too much . There's no words to describe how Jimin feels, so he feeds his soft noises of pleasure into Namjoon’s mouth, hoping that he’ll taste it instead.


The knot at the base of Namjoon’s cock begins to catch on Jimin’s rim, and he has to delay the pace he’s set, wanting to make sure he knots Jimin properly. There’s a tightness in Jimin’s belly and a fire in Namjoon’s, and when they kiss again, it’s needy, full of desire.


“M’close,” the alpha whispers between their kisses, pressing his forehead against Jimin’s to maintain their eye contact. Jimin’s eyes are glossed over with pleasure and his lashes flutter over Namjoon’s cheeks, round lips parted and kiss swollen, noises increasing in intensity as his orgasm approaches.


“N-namjoon, m’gonna— m’gonna come,” Jimin breathes, fingers tightening in Namjoon’s locks, toes curling and heels digging into the alpha’s body for leverage, rutting up until he can feel the press of Namjoon's knot against his body.


Namjoon’s careful, kisses the furrow between Jimin’s brows as he slowly works his knot inside. There's a moment —when the widest part stretches the omega to the point of pain— where Jimin sobs, tears spilling out of the corners of his eyes as he comes between their bellies. He shakes, feels the pulse of Namjoon’s knot inside him, the heat of his climax, and Jimin finally feels the roaring hunger of his heat fade.


They’re locked together for now and Namjoon knocks their foreheads together to catch his breath, a low growl resonating in his throat as he fills Jimin to the brim for the first time. He’ll fill him a few more times until the knot subsides but all they can do is wait and relax.


Namjoon kisses Jimin once more, lips lingering before he pulls away and carefully rolls them over so Jimin is on his chest and he isn’t crushing Jimin with his weight. The omega mewls at the shift, but the alpha just wraps an arm around his waist, brushing back his dark locks and swiping away any tears in the corners of his eyes.


“Are you alright?”


Jimin buries his face into Namjoon’s bare chest, listening to the comforting thump of his heart beating inside his chest. “Uh-huh,” he mumbles, feels like he's still floating somewhere outside his body.


Smiling, Namjoon runs his fingers through Jimin’s hair. They’re quiet in their cooldown, but when they catch their breath, Namjoon initiates.


“Can I take you out on a date?”


The muscles in Jimin’s back tense before he blinks up. “A. . . date?”


Namjoon nods, laughing shyly. “Yeah. I think I should at least take you out somewhere after this. We had sex before we even went out together. I mean, I’ve always wanted to do both, but I’d like to go on a date with you. . .”


“I guess. . . we sort of did this backwards,” Jimin says with a sigh. “Blame my heat.”


“Let me make it right. Even if it’s just a real simple date.”


“I don't want you to feel obligated—”


“No, I want to. I've been waiting to go on a date with you.”


Jimin smiles in spite of himself, tucking himself under Namjoon’s chin to wait out the knot’s swelling. “It’s a date then.”





They wait around the rest of the day just in case Jimin’s heat decides to try to surface again, but it ends up not showing, and they breathe a sigh of relief. Now they won’t have to stay holed up in the apartment any longer.


After they shower and enjoy a well-deserved meal, Jimin puts on his clothes, now clean and washed. He’s wobbly on his feet, almost falls a couple times, but Namjoon is there to catch him or nudge him back into position. It’s not quite sundown when they leave the apartment, but the sky is lit up with orange and marigold yellow and the light reflects off the windows.


Namjoon’s car is parked in the garage. He doesn’t drive often, since he lives on campus, but Jimin isn’t in the best shape to walk across campus to get to his apartment. And when Jimin is off his legs and flops into the car, he groans, resting his head on the headrest. “Thanks for taking me home. I know I’ve caused you enough troubles the last couple of days.”


Shifting into gear, Namjoon shakes his head, pulling on to the street. “Also the least I could do. It wasn’t any trouble, I promise; I’m glad it happened. Still feels surreal. . .”


It’s actually one of the shortest heats that Jimin’s ever been through. Other omegas have told him that having an alpha to help makes things easier, but he’d never imagined how much better it could be. Going back to using only toys to get him through is so unappealing, especially since he's gotten a proper knot.


“It does,” Jimin plays with his own fingers in his lap, “but I'm. . . glad it happened too. If you hadn't been walking by. . .”


Namjoon reaches out to rub his palm over the back of Jimin’s hand reassuringly. “Feel free to let me know when your heat comes up next. I can drive you home safely.”


“Or. . . maybe you could help me again?”


Eyes widening, Namjoon stares at Jimin when they’re stopped. It takes him a moment to speak, Adam’s apple bobbing when he swallows. “You. . . you want me to help you again?”


“Only if you want!” Jimin’s reply is a little loud, his voice peaking an octave higher. “You don't have to. I just thought—”


“I-if you want me to, then I’d be more than happy to do it again.”


All Jimin does is throw Namjoon a quick eyesmile, glancing on the window and tapping on the glass. “Oh! Here. I’m in this complex.”


Namjoon pulls to the curb and parks the car. Jimin pops open his door and slowly gets out, reassuring the alpha that he’s fine and can walk up to his apartment. Namjoon walks with Jimin, hands stuffed in the front pockets of his hoodie, craning his neck to peer down at Jimin once they’re outside the complex.


“So. . .”


“I’m free Thursday,” Jimin blurts out, shuffling his feet on the concrete. “After class. I don't have dance practice sp if you wanted to, uhm, get food or coffee or something?”


A smile crosses Namjoon’s face, dimples peeking out. “Ok, Thursday. I’m free too. How’s food and a movie sound?”


“Perfect. I’ll give you my number? I’ll see you in class too so. . .”


“Yeah, that works.”


Namjoon digs in his pocket for his phone, and he types in Jimin’s number as the omega tells it. Once it’s in his phone, Namjoon pockets it and smiles.

“See you tomorrow in class, then?”


There's a moment of hesitation before Jimin darts forward, pushes up onto his toes so he can press a quick, chaste kiss to Namjoon’s mouth. “See you in class,” he affirms, a blush on his cheeks. Namjoon blinks in a stupor, but Jimin is already unlocking the door, slipping through it and glancing back at the alpha from inside. He’s grinning, eyes crinkling in the corners, before he disappears around the corner.


“See you,” Namjoon mumbles, touching the place where Jimin had kissed him, his lips warm. His stomach does a flip before he’s smiling to himself like a little kid, ambling back towards his car.


“You’re gonna be the end of me, I swear, Park Jimin.”


But Namjoon couldn’t be any happier.