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The apartment door clicked shut behind Chanyeol with a familiar, tired sigh. He balanced a paper bag of day-old pastries from the coffee shop in one arm and his heavy backpack in the other. The shift had run long again, but the extra tips meant he could send a little more home this month. His family's small grocery store back in their hometown needed every bit of help it could get, and Chanyeol was determined to finish his Business Management degree without adding to their burden. He worked mornings at the campus café, studied in the afternoons, and picked up evening shifts when he could. It left little time for anything else, but that was fine. Responsibility had always sat comfortably on his broad shoulders.
He toed off his shoes in the entryway and padded into the open living area. The place was small but clean, a typical off-campus two-bedroom that smelled faintly of coffee beans and whatever expensive candle Baekhyun had lit. Speaking of Baekhyun.
"Welcome home, Yeol!" a bright voice called from the kitchen.
Chanyeol's lips curved into an automatic smile. Byun Baekhyun stood at the counter, blonde hair all messy, wearing an oversized sweater that slipped off one shoulder and soft lounge shorts that showed off miles of smooth leg. He was pouring iced tea into two glasses. The omega looked effortlessly pretty, as always, like he had stepped out of a magazine spread rather than a shared college apartment.
"Hey," Chanyeol said, setting the bag down. "Brought some leftovers from the shop. The blueberry muffins survived the day."
Baekhyun's eyes lit up. "You are a saint." He slid one glass across the counter toward Chanyeol and took a muffin for himself, peeling the wrapper with delicate fingers. "How was the shift? Busy?"
"Steady," Chanyeol replied, taking a long drink. The cold tea felt perfect after hours on his feet. "Morning rush was brutal, but it slowed down after lunch. Got most of my marketing assignment done between customers."
Baekhyun leaned against the counter, nibbling his muffin and watching Chanyeol with that fond, slightly teasing expression he always wore. "You work too hard, you know. One day you're going to let me treat you to something nice."
Chanyeol snorted softly. "You already sneak expensive snacks into the fridge and pretend they were on sale. I notice."
A faint pink dusted Baekhyun's cheeks, but he did not deny it. He came from money—real money—and his family paid for everything: tuition, rent, the sleek laptop he used for his Performing Arts classes, the wardrobe that made even casual outfits look curated. Baekhyun never bragged about it. He never made Chanyeol feel small for counting every won. He simply liked sharing, liked making their little shared space feel warmer, brighter.
The truth was, Baekhyun had not needed a roommate at all. He had chosen this apartment because he wanted the full college experience: late-night study sessions, shared meals, someone to come home to. And somehow, through the housing portal, he had ended up with Chanyeol a quiet, dependable alpha who paid his half of the rent on time, kept the place spotless, and never once crossed the invisible line that hummed between them.
That line had been there from the start.
It was in the way Baekhyun's sweet omega scent lingered in the air after he passed through a room. It was in the way Chanyeol's alpha instincts flared whenever Baekhyun laughed too close or brushed against him reaching for something on a high shelf. It was in the long looks they sometimes caught each other in, the ones quickly covered with jokes or a change of subject.
They were friends. Good friends. Baekhyun cheered the loudest when Chanyeol aced an exam. Chanyeol sat through every one of Baekhyun's vocal performances or contemporary dance showcases, applauding until his palms stung. They cooked together on weekends, argued over what to watch on movie nights, texted each other during boring classes. But they never talked about the tension that thickened the air whenever they were alone too long.
Baekhyun finished his muffin and licked a bit of blueberry from his thumb, completely unaware of how Chanyeol's gaze tracked the motion for a second too long. "I have rehearsal until evening tomorrow," Baekhyun said, "but I'll make dinner after. Promise. Something that isn't instant ramen for once."
"You don't have to cook for me," Chanyeol said gently.
"I want to." Baekhyun smiled, soft and sincere. "You take care of everyone else. Let me take care of you sometimes."
Chanyeol felt warmth spread through his chest, the same warmth he always felt around Baekhyun. He nodded. "Deal. But I'm doing dishes."
Baekhyun laughed, light and musical. "We'll argue about that later."
The next afternoon dragged heat and exhaustion through the apartment windows.
Baekhyun pushed the door open with his shoulder, dance bag slung heavy over one arm, blonde hair damped around his face. His contemporary performance class had run overtime. The professor had been ruthless, drilling the same eight-count until Baekhyun’s muscles screamed and his mind felt frayed at the edges. All he wanted was a long shower, something cold to drink, and the quiet click of his bedroom door locking behind him.
He dropped his bag in the entryway and kicked off his sneakers. The living room smelled faintly of fresh coffee and the citrus cleaner Chanyeol used on the counters.
Chanyeol emerged from his room, buttoning the cuffs of his shirt, hair still a little damp from a quick shower. The sight of him—tall, steady, unfairly handsome even in a simple uniform—made something in Baekhyun’s chest loosen, the way it always did.
“Rough day?” Chanyeol asked, voice gentle as he took in Baekhyun’s tired slump.
“You have no idea,” Baekhyun groaned, flopping onto the couch. “Professor Kim decided we needed to ‘find the emotional truth’ in a phrase we’ve done a thousand times. I think my emotional truth is that I want to lie face-down for the next six hours.”
Chanyeol chuckled, low and warm. “I wish I could stay and force-feed you dinner, but I picked up the evening shift. Tips are better on Thursdays.”
Baekhyun made a small, sympathetic noise. “You already work too much, Yeol.” He meant it sincerely. He hated how tired Chanyeol sometimes looked after double shifts, how he still managed to smile and ask about Baekhyun’s day like it was the most important thing in the world.
But beneath the concern, a quiet flicker of relief sparked. Chanyeol would be gone until closing, almost five hours. Plenty of time.
“I’ll be fine,” Chanyeol said, grabbing his wallet and keys from the counter and put on his backpack. He paused, looking back at Baekhyun with that careful, caring expression that always made Baekhyun’s stomach flutter. “There’s leftover jjajangmyeon in the fridge. Heat it up if you get hungry, okay? And text me if you need anything.”
“I will,” Baekhyun promised, offering a tired but genuine smile. “Go make those tips. Buy yourself something nice for once.”
Chanyeol rolled his eyes fondly. “I’ll think about it.” He lifted a hand in a small wave and slipped out the door, locking it behind him.
The apartment fell silent.
Baekhyun stayed on the couch for a few minutes, letting the quiet settle over him like a blanket. Then he pushed himself up, rolled his shoulders, and padded towards the bathroom.
No one knew what he did in here when he was alone.
Not his classmates. Not his family. Certainly not Chanyeol.
A few months into freshman year, bored and curious, Baekhyun had stumbled across the world of solo content creators. At first it had been a joke, setting up an anonymous Twitter account, filming a silly striptease in cute lingerie just to see if he could. The rush that followed, the comments from strangers telling him how pretty he looked, how desperate and sweet, had lit something deep inside him. It wasn’t about money; his allowance covered anything he could want. It was about the thrill of being desired, of performing, of turning the camera on himself and letting go in ways he never could in real life.
Now he had a modest but loyal following on OnlyFans. He posted once or twice a week, always solo, always with toys, always dressed in soft pastel colors that made him feel delicate and wanted. The exhibition made it intoxicating.
Today, after the stress of class, he needed it more than usual. Needed to feel pretty and in control, needed the slow build and the helpless sounds he could draw from his own body.
Baekhyun let the bathroom door click shut behind him and stood still for a moment, rolling his neck until it cracked. Every muscle ached from the endless rehearsal, and the faint scent of sweat and studio floor clung to his skin. He needed to wash the day away before anything else.
The hot water came quickly, steam curling up as he poured a generous amount of his favorite bath oil, something soft and floral that always made him feel pretty. He stripped out of his damp practice clothes, stepped into the tub, and sank down with a long, shuddering sigh.
The heat soaked into his sore thighs and lower back almost immediately. Baekhyun closed his eyes and let his head rest against the tiled wall. For a few minutes he simply breathed, letting the water and fragrance loosen the knots in his body. His mind wandered, as it often did in moments like this, to Chanyeol.
He pictured the alpha’s broad shoulders under that black shirt, the way his deep voice softened whenever he asked about Baekhyun’s day, the careful distance he always kept. Chanyeol was so good—too good—working himself tired just to keep his head above water, never once letting his gaze linger too long on Baekhyun’s bare legs or the way certain sweaters slipped off his shoulder. Baekhyun admired that restraint. He also wanted, desperately, to shatter it.
A slow warmth that had nothing to do with the bathwater spread through him. He shifted in the tub, thighs pressing together under the water. Tonight he would have the apartment to himself for hours. Plenty of time to indulge, to dress up, to let himself imagine it was Chanyeol’s hands instead of his, Chanyeol’s low growls in his ear instead of his own moans.
The thought made him shiver pleasantly. He stayed in the bath until the water began to cool and his skin was flushed pink, then climbed out and wrapped himself in a fluffy towel. He took his time drying off, smoothing scented lotion over his legs and arms, paying extra attention to the places that would be on display later. Everything had to feel soft, look perfect.
In his bedroom he dimmed the main light and flicked on the ring light to test the glow, warm and flattering, just enough shadow to keep things mysterious. He left it off for now and moved to his dresser.
The pink nightgown was folded neatly in the bottom drawer, tissue-thin chiffon with delicate lace trimming the hem and neckline. He slipped it over his head, letting the cool fabric slide down his body like a caress. It was completely transparent, hiding nothing, the pale pink making his skin look even softer. No underwear tonight, he liked the way the gown brushed directly against him, liked how exposed he felt. He sat on the edge of the bed and rolled the white mid-thigh stockings up his legs slowly, smoothing the lace tops until they sat perfectly high on his thighs.
He stood and checked himself in the full-length mirror on the closet door. Blonde hair still a little damp and tousled, cheeks flushed from the bath, nightgown clinging and floating in all the right places, stockings framing his legs like a gift waiting to be unwrapped. He looked exactly how he wanted: pretty, delicate, desperate.
Baekhyun’s pulse quickened.
He walked to the camera on its tripod at the foot of the bed. The lens was positioned lower than usual, so it would catch him from the back as soon as he knelt in place. He positioned the fucking machine on its low stand, attaching the thick, realistic dildo he liked best and testing the remote once to make sure it responded smoothly. A familiar thrill fluttered low in his belly. Finally he leaned, pressed the record button, and watched the small red light blink to life.
Only then did he climb onto the bed.
He moved carefully on his knees, facing the camera directly, Baekhyun stayed standing in front of the lens for a moment, letting the camera drink him in. He turned slowly, giving it a full view—shoulders bare under the thin straps, the nightgown clinging to his waist and hips, the faint outline of his small cock visible beneath the chiffon, stockings hugging his thighs. He ran his hands down his sides, fingers tracing the lace edges, then lifted the hem just enough to flash the curve of his ass before letting it drop again. A soft smile played on his lips, more for himself than for the future viewers.
He grabbed the lube from his nightstand and settled back on the bed, knees drawn up. The gown rode high on his hips as he slicked his fingers generously and reached down. Slow circles at first, teasing himself open while his mind drifted back to Chanyeol—imagining those large hands spreading him instead, that deep voice calling him princess, baby girl, good girl. A soft whimper escaped his lips as he added a second finger, scissoring gently, rocking his hips into the touch. He took his time, building the ache, letting the fantasy sharpen until his pussy was slick and ready, fluttering around nothing.
Only when he was trembling and breathless did he stop. He wiped his fingers, adjusted the nightgown so it fell prettily again, and crawled into all fours.
The fucking machine waiting behind him on its low stand. The thick dildo was already attached, glistening faintly from the lube he had applied earlier. Baekhyun reached back without looking, guiding the tip to his entrance with practiced ease. He exhaled slowly and sank down, letting the toy breach him inch by inch until it was all inside, a quiet, breathy moan escaping his lips as it filled his pussy completely.
The position felt perfect—on all fours, chest slightly lowered, ass raised just enough for the machine to work without obstruction. From the back, the camera would catch everything he wanted it to: his plump ass, his pink hole and the way it eagerly suck the dildo in. The nightgown draped beautifully over his back and sides, sheer fabric shifting with every small movement, nipples already hard beneath it.
Baekhyun took a steadying breath, picked up the remote from where he had placed it on the pillow in front of him, and glanced back at the lens one last time. His eyes were dark, pupils blown with anticipation.
He pressed the lowest speed setting.
The machine hummed to life behind him, pulling back slowly before pushing forward again in a gentle, steady rhythm. Baekhyun’s mouth fell open on the first real thrust, a soft “ah” spilling out as the dildo dragged over his sensitive walls. His fingers tightened around the remote, body rocking forward slightly with the motion, stockings sliding against the sheets.
He let his head drop forward for a second, short blonde strands brushing his forehead, then lifted it again to face back the camera fully. Another thrust, deeper this time, and his eyes fluttered half-closed, a needy whimper rising in his throat.
The apartment was completely silent except for the low mechanical whir, the wet sounds of the toy moving inside him, and the escalating rhythm of his own breathing.
Baekhyun pressed the button once more, increasing the speed just a little.
And then he let himself go, moans growing louder, hips beginning to push back to meet each thrust, lost in the building pleasure while the red light blinked steadily behind him.
Chanyeol wiped down the espresso machine one last time and glanced at the clock above the pastry case. 7:42 p.m. The evening rush had died down earlier than usual; a campus event had pulled most students away, and the last customer had left twenty minutes ago. His manager, a tired but kind beta named Jihoon, clapped him on the shoulder as he finished restocking the milk fridge.
“Go home, kid,” Jihoon said with a grin. “We’re slow tonight and you’ve already stayed an extra hour past your scheduled time this week. I’ll close up.”
Chanyeol hesitated for only a second. The extra pay would have been nice, but the thought of getting home earlier—of maybe cooking something proper instead of heating up leftovers—won out. “You sure?”
“Positive. Get out of here before I change my mind.”
Chanyeol laughed softly, untied his apron, and headed to the back room. He grabbed his backpack from the locker, slipping his phone and wallet into the side pocket, then slung it over one shoulder. The cool evening air felt good after the warm, coffee-scented café. He pulled up the grocery list he kept on his phone—half of the items were things Baekhyun liked, even if the omega would never admit he had preferences.
Baekhyun wasn’t a bad cook, exactly. He could handle rice, eggs, simple ramyeon upgrades, and anything that came with clear instructions on the package. But he lacked patience for chopping, seasoning, or timing multiple things at once. More than once Chanyeol had come home to find Baekhyun staring forlornly at a slightly burnt pan of stir-fry, cheeks puffed in frustration. After the third time, Chanyeol had quietly taken over most of the real cooking. He liked it, anyway, liked providing, liked watching Baekhyun’s eyes light up when he tasted something new and good.
Tonight he had an idea: creamy gochujang pasta with shrimp and plenty of vegetables. Baekhyun always ate seconds when there was cream sauce involved.
He stopped at the small supermarket two blocks from their apartment. The place was quiet on a Thursday night, fluorescent lights humming overhead as he filled a basket: fresh shrimp, garlic, onion, spinach, heavy cream, gochujang, parmesan. He added a small pack of Baekhyun’s favorite peach iced tea and, after a moment’s thought, a bar of the expensive dark chocolate the omega liked to nibble while studying.
Checkout was quick. Bags in hand, backpack bouncing lightly against his back, Chanyeol walked the last stretch home with a small bounce in his step. He pictured Baekhyun still sprawled on the couch after his long rehearsal day, maybe still in his dance clothes. Chanyeol could feed him, run him a bath if he wanted, maybe convince him to watch one episode of that drama they kept putting off.
He reached their building, climbed the stairs to the third floor, and balanced the grocery bags to fish his keys from his pocket. The hallway was quiet. He turned the lock carefully—Baekhyun might be napping or wearing headphones—and pushed the door open with his shoulder.
The apartment was dim, lit only by the soft glow spilling from under Baekhyun’s bedroom door. No sound from the living room, no music, no clatter of dishes. Baekhyun must have gone straight to his room after he left.
Chanyeol toed off his shoes, hung his backpack on the hook by the door and set the grocery bags quietly on the kitchen counter. He started unpacking, moving with the practiced silence of someone used to long shifts and a light-sleeping roommate.
A faint noise reached him from down the hall. Not quite music. A low, rhythmic hum, almost mechanical, followed by something softer, breathier. Chanyeol paused, hand still on the carton of peach tea. Maybe Baekhyun was watching a video with headphones off, or using that little massage gun he’d bought for his sore calves.
He finished putting the groceries away, then glanced at the clock: 8:20. Plenty of time to start prep if Baekhyun was resting. But the sound came again—quieter this time, but unmistakable. A small, needy whimper.
Chanyeol’s alpha instincts stirred, concern overriding everything else. Was Baekhyun hurt? Sick? He dried his hands on the dish towel and walked down the short hallway, steps silent on the worn carpet.
Baekhyun’s door was pulled almost closed, just a few inches open. Warm light spilled through the gap, along with that steady mechanical hum and now clearer, breathy moans.
His hand tightened on the doorknob as he nudged the door open just a few more inches, moving slowly, silently, the way he would if he thought Baekhyun might be asleep. He did not want to startle him. He only wanted to check that everything was okay.
The warm glow of the ring light hit him first. Then the tripod came into view, the camera perched solidly at the foot of the bed, red recording light blinking steady and calm. Chanyeol’s breath caught. His mind scrambled for an explanation—maybe Baekhyun was filming a dance practice, or a vocal cover, or some performance assignment—but the low, rhythmic hum coming from the room told him something entirely different.
He leaned forward just enough to see past the edge of the doorframe.
And everything stopped.
Baekhyun was on the bed, on all fours, directly toward the camera. His ass was pointed straight at the lens, the view unobstructed and deliberate. A sheer pink nightgown had ridden up over his hips, bunched delicately at his waist, doing nothing to hide the flushed skin of his back or the way his thighs trembled inside those white lace-top stockings. Blonde hair fell messily over his forehead, damp with sweat, and his eyes were squeezed shut in pure bliss, lips parted around soft, helpless moans that spilled out with every mechanical thrust.
Because there was a machine behind him—a sleek, low stand with a thick, glistening dildo attached, pumping steadily into Baekhyun’s slick, pink pussy. Each forward motion seated it fully inside him, the base kissing his stretched rim before pulling back and driving in again, relentless and perfectly timed. Baekhyun’s hips rolled back to meet every stroke, greedy, instinctive, his small cock bobbing hard and untouched beneath the transparent chiffon, a thin string of pre-cum already dripping onto the sheets.
Chanyeol stood frozen in the doorway, heart hammering against his ribs so loudly he was sure Baekhyun would hear it. He could not move, could not breathe properly. This was Baekhyun—his sweet, playful roommate who burned rice and laughed at Chanyeol’s dumb jokes and always left the porch light on for him—this same Baekhyun, dolled up like the prettiest omega fantasy, recording himself getting fucked by a machine and clearly, unmistakably, loving every second of it.
The air was thick with Baekhyun’s scent: sweet, floral, aroused omega slick so potent it made Chanyeol’s mouth water and his alpha instincts roar to life. His cock twitched hard in his jeans, a rush of heat flooding him as he watched Baekhyun’s back arch deeper, watched the way his thighs shook, watched the dildo disappear again and again into that perfect, greedy pussy.
Baekhyun still had not noticed him. His eyes remained closed, lost in ecstasy, short blonde strands sticking to his forehead as his head dropped forward on a particularly deep thrust. A broken, high-pitched moan escaped him, louder than the ones before, and his fingers curled tight into the sheets.
“Please,” Baekhyun whispered to no one, voice breathy and desperate, clearly caught in some private fantasy. “Feels s-so good… deeper…”
The sight of Baekhyun like this slammed into him harder than anything ever had. His alpha pheromones answered before he could think, flooding the air with dark, possessive pine and graphite.
Baekhyun’s next moan stuttered, cut off abruptly. His body tensed.
The omega's head snapped up, eyes wide with shock as he twisted to look over his shoulder. Baekhyun’s eyes widened in pure mortification. His flushed face drained of color for a second, then burned crimson. "Ch-Chanyeol? What—oh god, no—" he tried to push up on his elbows, tried to twist away, but the machine kept thrusting steadily, forcing another helpless moan from his throat. “Oh no, p-please don’t look—”
He scrambled blindly across the sheets for the remote, thighs shaking, nightgown slipping off one shoulder. Every movement only made the dildo drive deeper, drawing out wet sounds and high, involuntary whimpers he couldn’t silence. “I’m s-sorry, I’m so sorry, you weren’t supposed to see, please just f-forget this, I can explain—”
His fingers brushed the edge of the remote, but Chanyeol was already moving.
In two long strides he crossed the room, alpha instincts roaring in his ears, and snatched the small black controller before Baekhyun could close his hand around it. Baekhyun froze, eyes huge and glassy with shame and lingering pleasure, lips trembling.
“Chanyeol, please—mmph!” Baekhyun whispered, voice cracking as another thrust rocked his body forward. “T-turn it off, I can’t, I can’t stop m-making these sounds, it’s embarrassing, p-please—”
Chanyeol’s usual gentle smile was gone. His jaw was tight, pupils blown wide, chest rising and falling in deep, uneven breaths. The sweet, careful alpha who always held back had cracked wide open under the weight of Baekhyun’s scent and the sight of him spread out like this, dolled up and desperate and recording it all.
He didn’t turn the machine off.
Instead he thumbed the button once, nudging the speed higher.
The low hum deepened. The dildo began to pound faster, harder, slamming into Baekhyun with wet, rhythmic slaps.
Baekhyun’s back arched sharply, a strangled cry tearing from his throat. “Ahng! N-no, Chanyeol, t-too much—” His arms gave out and he dropped to his elbows again, ass pushed higher by instinct, pussy clenching greedily around the toy even as fresh tears of humiliation gathered in his eyes. “P-please, I’m sorry, I didn’t want you to see me like this—”
Chanyeol’s eyes stayed fixed on Baekhyun, watching every small jerk of his body as the machine drove the thick dildo into him again and again. The rhythm was merciless now—fast, deep strokes that made Baekhyun’s thighs quiver in the white stockings and forced soft, broken moans from his lips no matter how hard he tried to bite them back.
Baekhyun’s face was between his shoulders, short blonde hair sticking to his damp forehead, eyes squeezed shut in humiliated pleasure. Tears clung to his lashes. “Chanyeol… please, t-turn it off,” he managed between gasps, voice trembling. “I’m sorry, I—”
Chanyeol didn’t answer with words. Slowly, deliberately, he reached out and let his large hand settle on the swell of Baekhyun’s ass, fingers spreading over warm, flushed skin where the pink nightgown had ridden up completely. Baekhyun jolted at the touch, a high whimper escaping him as the machine thrust forward again.
“Shh,” Chanyeol murmured, voice low and rough, almost soothing. His thumb traced lazy circles over the curve of one cheek, feeling the faint tremor under soft skin. “Look at you, princess. All dressed up in this pretty little gown, stockings hugging your thighs, letting a toy fuck your pussy on camera. You’re taking it so well.”
Baekhyun’s eyes flew open, wide and stunned, cheeks burning darker. This was Chanyeol—quiet, caring Chanyeol who always asked if he’d eaten, who carried his dance bag up the stairs when it was too heavy, who never once pushed—talking to him like this. Touching him like this. The shock collided with months of secret fantasies, leaving Baekhyun breathless and dizzy.
“Ch-Chanyeol, what—” Another thrust cut him off, turning the question into a moan. His hips rocked back involuntarily, chasing the pressure even as shame flooded him.
Chanyeol’s hand slid lower, fingers brushing the stretched rim where the dildo disappeared inside over and over, gathering slick that coated everything. “So wet,” he said, wonder and hunger threading through the words. “Your pussy’s making such greedy sounds, princess. Swallowing this toy like it’s not enough. Like you need something bigger, something real.”
Baekhyun sobbed, dropping his head to the sheets, fingers clawing at the fabric. “D-don’t say that, please—”
“Why not?” Chanyeol’s voice dipped darker, edged with teasing degradation. “It’s true, isn’t it? My pretty, perfect roommate—smart, talented, spoiled little omega—secretly films himself getting fucked because he’s too needy to wait for a real alpha. How long have you been doing this, Baekhyun? How many times have I been at work while you’re in here, dressed like a doll, moaning for the camera?”
Baekhyun couldn’t answer. The words, the touch, the relentless pounding, it was too much. His mind spun with disbelief and raw, aching want. This was exactly what he had imagined on the loneliest nights: Chanyeol finding him, Chanyeol taking control, Chanyeol’s deep voice telling him how desperate he looked.
Chanyeol’s hand moved again, this time both palms spreading over Baekhyun’s ass, kneading gently, possessively. “You’re shaking,” he observed softly, almost tender despite the degradation. “So sensitive. Look how your thighs are trembling in those stockings. Such a gorgeous sight, princess.”
Baekhyun’s breath hitched on a whine. The praise twisted together with the shame, making heat pool low and urgent. “I didn’t… I didn’t think you’d ever…” He couldn’t finish the sentence.
Chanyeol leaned down, close enough that his breath ghosted over Baekhyun’s skin. “Tell me why you do it,” he coaxed, voice velvet and steel. “Tell alpha why his pretty omega needs to dress up and film this needy pussy getting stuffed when I’m not here.”
Baekhyun’s whole body clenched around the toy at the words, a broken cry spilling out. He turned his head just enough to meet Chanyeol’s eyes over his shoulder—dark, intense, nothing like the gentle roommate he knew and everything like the alpha he’d dreamed about.
“B-because…” Baekhyun whispered, voice cracking as the machine drove deep again. “Because I w-wanted… wanted it to be you.”
Chanyeol’s fingers tightened on his hips, possessive and reverent all at once.
“Good girl,” he breathed.
Chanyeol’s thumb lingered over the remote for a deliberate second, eyes locked on Baekhyun’s trembling form. Then he pressed the button again, pushing the machine to its highest speed.
The change was immediate. The low hum became a fierce whir, the thick dildo slamming into Baekhyun’s pussy with brutal, rapid strokes that made wet, obscene sounds echo in the room. Baekhyun’s entire body seized, back arching sharply as a raw, broken cry tore from his throat.
“Chanyeol! T-too much—ah, f-fuck, it's hitting—right there—” The protest dissolved into a high, desperate moan, his blonde hair falling forward as his head dropped between his shoulders again. His thighs shook violently, toes curling against the sheets. The nightgown clung to his sweat-slick back, sheer pink fabric shifting with every punishing thrust.
Chanyeol watched, transfixed, hand still resting possessively on Baekhyun’s ass. “That’s it, princess,” he murmured, voice rough with awe. “Take it just like that. Look how greedy your pussy is, swallowing every inch so perfectly.”
Baekhyun couldn’t answer. Pleasure coiled tight and overwhelming, the relentless pounding against his prostate sending sparks up his spine. His small cock bobbed hard and untouched beneath the chiffon, leaking steadily. Within seconds his breath hitched, body tensing impossibly.
“I’m—ah, alpha, I’m c-cumming—” The words broke on a sob as his orgasm crashed over him. His pussy clenched hard around the toy, waves of pleasure pulsing through him. Clear fluid squirted in short bursts around the dildo with every thrust, soaking the sheets and dripping down his thighs, staining the lace tops of his stockings darker and cum spurting from his little cock, dirtying his nightgown.
Chanyeol groaned low in his throat, fingers digging into Baekhyun’s hip to feel the spasms. “Beautiful,” he whispered. “Squirting all over the bed like a desperate little slut. So fucking pretty when you come undone.”
Baekhyun trembled through the aftershocks, whimpering softly, oversensitive and overwhelmed. Only then did Chanyeol ease the speed back down to the lowest setting, letting the machine rock gently into him, drawing out soft, shaky gasps instead of screams.
After a long minute, he clicked it off completely.
The sudden stillness felt deafening. Baekhyun sagged forward, held up only by trembling arms, chest heaving. Chanyeol carefully slid the machine back and away, setting it aside on the floor without ceremony. Then he knelt behind Baekhyun again, hands gentle but firm as he spread Baekhyun’s cheeks wider.
Baekhyun’s pussy was flushed dark pink, puffy and glistening, clenching involuntarily on nothing now, a slow trickle of slick and his own release still leaking out. The hole gaped slightly before fluttering closed, then opening again—like it was searching for something to fill it.
Chanyeol exhaled slowly, reverent. He shifted his body to the side, deliberately moving out of the camera’s direct line so the lens had a clear, unobstructed view of Baekhyun’s wrecked state.
“Look at that,” he said, voice low and teasing, laced with dark amusement. “Your pretty pussy gripping on air, still hungry even after all that. Bet your viewers love this part—watching you drip and clench like a needy little slut after you’ve come.”
Baekhyun made a weak, embarrassed sound and tried to close his thighs, but Chanyeol’s hands held him open easily.
“Don’t hide, princess,” Chanyeol chided softly. “Let them see what a mess you make. All those people who pay to watch you—they get off knowing how desperate you are, don’t they? Knowing my perfect, spoiled omega dresses up in lace just to film himself getting fucked senseless.”
Baekhyun’s face burned hotter, but he didn’t protest. He stayed on all fours, shaking, pussy exposed to the camera and to Chanyeol’s hungry gaze, the humiliation twisting deliciously with lingering pleasure.
He turned his head against the pillow, short blonde strands sticking to his cheek, and looked up at Chanyeol with glassy eyes. “Alpha…” The word slipped out soft and desperate, almost a sob. “I need you now. Please. Need you inside me. Want you to come inside me.”
Chanyeol’s gaze darkened further, the possessive edge sharpening as Baekhyun’s plea hung in the air. He let the silence stretch just long enough for Baekhyun to squirm, thighs trying to press together only to be stopped by Chanyeol’s steady hands.
“Listen to you,” Chanyeol murmured, voice low and teasing, thumb tracing slow circles over the sensitive skin of Baekhyun’s inner thigh, just above the lace band of the stocking. “My pretty princess, begging alpha to fill you up. You’ve been teasing strangers with this perfect pussy for who knows how long, and the second I touch you, you’re desperate for my cock.”
Baekhyun whimpered, hips lifting slightly off the bed in silent plea. “Please, Chanyeol… I’ve wanted it for so long. Just you.”
Chanyeol exhaled slowly, restraint fraying at the edges. “Wanted me while you filmed yourself getting fucked by toys, hm? Imagining it was me breeding you instead?”
Baekhyun nodded frantically, tears of frustration gathering again. “Yes. Always you.”
The confession snapped the last thread of Chanyeol’s control. He moved quickly, hands sliding under Baekhyun’s thighs to flip him gently but firmly onto his back. Baekhyun gasped at the sudden shift, nightgown fluttering around his waist as Chanyeol settled between his spread legs, knees pushing them wider. The position brought them face to face—Chanyeol’s broad shoulders and chest blocking most of the camera’s view, Baekhyun’s flushed, tear-streaked face and upper body barely visible around the alpha’s frame.
They both forgot the blinking red light entirely.
Chanyeol’s hands framed Baekhyun’s hips, thumbs brushing over the sheer pink fabric bunched there. He leaned down until their foreheads almost touched, breath mingling hot and heavy. Baekhyun’s stockinged legs wrapped instinctively around Chanyeol’s waist, heels digging into his lower back, urging him closer.
“Look at you,” Chanyeol whispered, reverent now, eyes tracing every detail: the swollen lips, the damp blonde hair, the way Baekhyun’s chest rose and fell under the transparent gown. “So beautiful like this. My perfect princess.”
Baekhyun’s hands came up to clutch at Chanyeol’s shirt, tugging weakly. “Please,” he breathed again, voice small and needy. “Inside. Want to feel you.”
Chanyeol’s hand slid down between them, fingers brushing feather-light over Baekhyun’s swollen, leaking pussy. Baekhyun jerked at the touch, a soft whine escaping him as Chanyeol traced the puffy rim, gathering slick before dipping just the tip of one finger inside.
“So loose,” Chanyeol murmured, voice low and rough against Baekhyun’s ear. “This greedy little pussy took that toy so well, didn’t it? All stretched and wet, still clenching like it’s begging for more.”
Baekhyun’s cheeks burned darker, but his hips lifted instinctively, trying to chase the teasing finger. “Chanyeol… don’t tease, please—”
“Don’t tease?” Chanyeol’s lips curved into a slow, wicked smile. He added a second finger, sliding them in easily, curling just enough to brush sensitive walls without giving real pressure. “But you look so pretty when you’re desperate, slut. My perfect little omega, all dolled up and dripping for alpha’s cock.”
Baekhyun’s breath hitched, fingers clutching tighter at Chanyeol’s shirt.
Chanyeol leaned down, mouth finding the column of Baekhyun’s neck first. He pressed open-mouthed kisses along the warm skin, tasting salt and the faint trace of bath oil, then moved lower to the delicate line of his clavicle, nipping lightly. Baekhyun arched into every touch, small needy sounds spilling out as Chanyeol’s lips traveled downward.
When he reached Baekhyun’s chest, Chanyeol didn’t pull the nightgown away. He mouthed at one nipple through the thin chiffon, the fabric turning darker and clinging as it grew wet under his tongue. He sucked slowly, deliberately, feeling the hard peak stiffen further against the material. Baekhyun gasped, back bowing off the bed.
“Alpha—”
Chanyeol hummed around the nipple, teeth grazing just enough to make Baekhyun tremble, then switched to the other side, giving it the same slow, thorough attention. All the while his fingers kept their lazy rhythm inside Baekhyun’s pussy—shallow, teasing, never quite enough.
“Such a gorgeous little slut for me. My pretty princess, all open and ready.” Chanyeol whispered, voice dark with affection and hunger.
He yanked off his belt, tossing it somewhere in the room, too eager to care. Chanyeol unzipped his jeans, pulling them down along with his underwear, just enough to free his hardness. His long, thick cock, dripping with precum, sprang out of the confines of his clothing. He pushed in with one slow, steady thrust.
Baekhyun’s eyes locked onto it immediately. His lips parted on a soft, involuntary gasp, mouth watering visibly as he stared, utterly entranced. His tongue darted out to wet his lower lip, cheeks flushed a deeper pink, pupils blown wide with raw hunger. He looked like he was starving for it—like Chanyeol’s cock was the only thing in the world that mattered right then.
A low, amused chuckle rumbled in Chanyeol's chest. “Mouth watering already?,” he teased, voice dark and fond as he wrapped a hand around his base and gave himself one slow stroke, letting Baekhyun watch every inch. “You’re practically drooling for alpha’s cock, aren’t you?”
Baekhyun whimpered, hips twitching upward in silent plea, eyes never leaving Chanyeol’s length. He didn’t deny it. He couldn’t.
Without another word, without any more teasing preamble, Chanyeol lined himself up and pushed in with one slow, steady thrust—burying every thick inch deep into Baekhyun’s slick, waiting pussy in a single smooth glide.
Baekhyun’s mouth fell open in a silent cry, eyes fluttering shut as Chanyeol filled him completely. Hot, pulsing, so much better than any toy. The loose stretch from the machine made the slide easy, but Chanyeol’s cock was thicker, heavier, pressing against every sensitive spot at once.
Chanyeol groaned low in his throat, bottoming out and holding still for a moment, savoring the tight heat fluttering around him. His mouth traveled again to Baekhyun’s nipple through the soaked chiffon, sucking in time with the first experimental roll of his hips.
“There we go,” he murmured against the wet fabric, voice rough. “That’s what you needed, isn’t it, omega? Alpha’s cock finally breeding this loose, needy pussy like you’ve been dreaming about.”
Baekhyun could only whimper, legs tightening around Chanyeol’s waist, pulling him deeper.
Chanyeol’s hips snapped forward in a steady, deep rhythm, each thrust dragging a broken moan from Baekhyun’s throat. The loose, slick heat of Baekhyun’s pussy welcomed him perfectly, walls fluttering around his thick length like they had been waiting for this exact moment for months.
Baekhyun’s stockinged legs stayed locked around Chanyeol’s waist, heels digging into his back, pulling him impossibly deeper. His blonde hair was a mess against the pillow, eyes half-lidded and glassy, lips swollen from bitten-back cries.
Chanyeol dipped his head, mouth finding the sensitive curve of Baekhyun’s neck. He sucked hard at the soft skin just below the jaw, teeth grazing before soothing with his tongue. A dark, blooming mark appeared almost instantly, and Baekhyun gasped, head tilting back to give him more room.
“Ahng—”
Chanyeol hummed against the fresh hickey, moving lower to the junction of neck and shoulder, sucking another bruise into existence. Then another, lower still, painting a trail of possessive marks across pale skin. Each pull of his mouth drew a whimper from Baekhyun, body arching up into the attention.
His hands slid up Baekhyun’s sides, fingers catching the thin straps of the pink nightgown. Slowly, deliberately, he tugged them down Baekhyun’s shoulders, peeling the sheer fabric away until Baekhyun’s chest was fully exposed. The chiffon bunched beneath his ribs, framing his flushed tits perfectly—nipples already hard and darkened from earlier teasing.
Chanyeol didn’t waste time. He latched onto one nipple immediately, sucking hard, tongue swirling around the peak as his hips kept pounding deep and steady. Baekhyun cried out, back bowing off the bed, fingers tangling in Chanyeol’s hair to hold him there.
He moved to the other nipple, giving it the same treatment—long, wet pulls, gentle bites that made Baekhyun tremble, teeth scraping just enough to sting before soothing again. The sensitive buds swelled under his mouth, turning red and glistening, standing out starkly against pale skin.
“Chanyeol,” Baekhyun whimpered, voice cracking as another sharp thrust hit deep. “They’re s-so sensitive—ngh—too much—”
Chanyeol pulled off with a wet pop, blowing cool air over the abused nipple and watching Baekhyun shudder. He switched back to the first, biting a little harder this time, then soothing with his tongue. All the while his cock drove relentlessly into Baekhyun’s pussy, the angle perfect for bullying that spot inside that made Baekhyun see stars.
“Sensitive already?” Chanyeol murmured against damp skin, voice low and teasing. He sucked another bruise just above one nipple, then lifted his head to meet Baekhyun’s dazed eyes. “Just imagine, princess… if I knock you up. If I breed this pretty pussy full and your belly swells with my pup.”
Baekhyun’s breath hitched sharply.
Chanyeol’s lips curved into a wicked smile as he thrust harder, grinding deep. “These gorgeous tits all full and heavy with milk… I’d suck them every day, omega. Drink every drop straight from you while you beg for more.”
The reaction was instantaneous.
Baekhyun’s pussy clamped down like a vice, walls spasming wildly around Chanyeol’s cock in a grip so tight it stole his breath. A choked, desperate moan tore from Baekhyun’s throat, hips jerking up involuntarily as fresh slick gushed around Chanyeol’s length.
Chanyeol froze mid-thrust, eyes widening in surprise, then narrowing with dark amusement. He could feel every flutter, every greedy pulse milking him.
“Well, well,” he breathed, voice rough with delight, hips rolling slow and deep to feel Baekhyun clench again. “Look at that. My pretty little slut has a pregnancy kink, doesn’t he? Just the thought of me breeding you, putting a pup in your belly, and you try to choke alpha’s cock.”
Baekhyun’s face burned crimson, but he couldn’t deny it—his pussy fluttered again at the words, betraying him completely.
Chanyeol chuckled low, the sound vibrating through Baekhyun’s chest. “Don’t worry, princess,” he whispered, snapping his hips forward hard enough to make Baekhyun cry out. “I’ll give you exactly what you want. Gonna fill this pussy up until you’re dripping, until it takes. Gonna keep you full and pregnant and milk these pretty tits every single day.”
Baekhyun sobbed, overwhelmed, legs tightening around Chanyeol’s waist as his body surrendered completely to the promise.
Chanyeol’s thrusts grew harder, deeper, the bed creaking under the force of them. Every snap of his hips drove his cock straight against Baekhyun’s most sensitive spot, the head kissing the mouth of his womb with each punishing stroke. Baekhyun’s exposed tits bounced with the rhythm, red and swollen from Chanyeol’s earlier attention, nipples glistening and hypersensitive in the cool air.
Baekhyun’s hands scrambled for purchase on Chanyeol’s shoulders, nails digging in as his breath came in short, desperate gasps. “A-alpha… I’m c-close,” he whimpered, voice cracking. “So close, p-please—”
Chanyeol’s eyes flashed darker. He shifted his weight, hooking Baekhyun’s stockinged legs higher over his hips to open him wider, and sped up. The pace turned relentless—hard, fast strokes that made wet, filthy sounds fill the room, slick coating Chanyeol’s length and dripping down Baekhyun’s ass.
Chanyeol growled against Baekhyun’s ear before pulling back just enough to capture his mouth. The kiss was messy, sloppy, tongues sliding together, teeth clashing, breaths shared in hot, open-mouthed gasps. Chanyeol swallowed every moan Baekhyun fed him, one hand cradling the back of Baekhyun’s head to keep him close while the other gripped his hip hard enough to bruise.
Baekhyun broke the kiss with a cry, back arching sharply off the bed. “C-coming—alpha, ngh, I’m c-coming—”
His pussy clamped down in violent spasms, milking Chanyeol’s cock as he came hard. Clear fluid pulsed around the thick length buried inside him, soaking both of them, thighs trembling uncontrollably in the ruined white stockings, cum spurting on his stomach.
“Don’t stop,” Baekhyun sobbed, clinging desperately to Chanyeol’s shoulders. “P-please come inside me—fill me up, a-alpha, fuck my womb, b-breed me, make me pregnant—want your pup, want it so bad—”
The raw plea snapped the last of Chanyeol’s restraint. He slammed in one final time, grinding deep, cockhead pressed flush against Baekhyun’s cervix as his knot swelled huge and locked them together.
“Take it, princess,” he snarled against Baekhyun’s lips, voice ragged. “Every drop. Gonna breed this pretty pussy, put my pup in your belly just like you’re begging for.”
His orgasm hit hard—thick, hot pulses of cum flooding Baekhyun’s womb in long spurts, filling him so full that it overflowed around the knot, creamy white mixing with slick and dripping down Baekhyun’s thighs.
Baekhyun whimpered through the aftershocks, legs shaking as he felt every jet deep inside him, the warmth spreading low in his belly. He clung tighter, burying his face in Chanyeol’s neck, breathing in the strong alpha scent that now saturated the room.
Chanyeol stayed buried deep, arms wrapping around Baekhyun protectively as the knot kept them tied. He pressed soft kisses to Baekhyun’s damp temple, voice softening into something tender.
“Got you, princess,” he whispered. “Filled you up just like you needed.”
Baekhyun could only nod weakly, blissed-out and trembling, the pink nightgown twisted around his waist, stockings soaked, body marked and claimed in every way he had secretly dreamed of.
They stayed locked together for long minutes, breaths slowing, bodies pressed close. Chanyeol’s knot pulsed gently inside Baekhyun, keeping every drop of cum left sealed deep. Baekhyun’s legs had slipped from Chanyeol’s waist to rest limply on the bed, stockings twisted and soaked, pink nightgown still bunched beneath his chest.
Eventually the knot began to deflate, the tight grip loosening bit by bit. Chanyeol moved carefully, easing his hips back. When he finally slipped free, a thick gush of cum followed immediately, warm and creamy, pouring out of Baekhyun’s swollen pussy in slow rivulets.
Baekhyun moaned at the loss—high, needy, almost mournful—his hips tilting instinctively as if trying to keep Chanyeol inside. More cum leaked out with the motion, sliding down his ass and pooling on the already-ruined sheets. His puffy rim fluttered, clenching around nothing, pushing out another lazy trickle.
Chanyeol sat back on his heels for a moment, breathing hard, eyes fixed on the sight. Baekhyun’s pussy was beautifully wrecked—flushed dark pink, glistening, gaping slightly before closing again, cum still dripping in steady drops.
Then Chanyeol’s gaze flicked sideways. The camera. The little red light still blinked faithfully at the foot of the bed, having captured everything.
A slow, affectionate smile curved his lips. He reached over and detached the camera from the tripod, flipping the screen around so he could see the view as he brought it closer.
Baekhyun blinked up at him, dazed and flushed, short blonde hair plastered to his forehead. “Chanyeol…?”
“Shh, princess,” Chanyeol said softly, voice warm and teasing now that the edge had softened into something tender. He angled the lens down, starting at Baekhyun’s face—lips swollen, cheeks pink, eyes glassy with satisfaction—then slowly panning lower.
He lingered on the trail of dark hickeys blooming across Baekhyun’s neck and collarbones. “Look at these pretty marks,” he murmured, almost to the camera but clearly for Baekhyun. “Everyone’s going to know exactly who you belong to now.”
Baekhyun whimpered quietly, one hand half-heartedly trying to cover his neck, but Chanyeol gently nudged it away.
“No hiding, omega.” The camera moved lower, focusing on Baekhyun’s exposed chest. His nipples were red and swollen, still shiny from Chanyeol’s mouth, standing hard against pale skin. Chanyeol zoomed in close, the lens catching every detail. “And these poor little tits… all puffy and sensitive because alpha couldn’t stop sucking on them.”
Baekhyun’s breath hitched, a fresh wave of heat flooding his face, but his pussy gave another weak clench, more cum oozing out at the gentle humiliation.
Chanyeol’s smile widened, fond and wicked. He tilted the camera down further, over the soft plane of Baekhyun’s belly—still slightly distended from the sheer amount of cum inside—his little cock all spent, and then finally settling between his spread thighs.
The view was obscene and perfect: Baekhyun’s pussy flushed deep pink, thick white cum leaking steadily from the loose hole, coating his inner thighs and soaking into the lace tops of the stockings.
“Look at this messy little pussy,” Chanyeol said, voice soft and sweetly teasing. He reached out with his free hand, two fingers gently spreading Baekhyun’s folds so the camera could see deeper—the way the hole fluttered, pushing out another slow gush of cum. “All swollen and full of alpha’s seed, just like you begged for. Leaking everywhere… such a greedy princess, can’t even keep it inside.”
Baekhyun moaned weakly, hips twitching at the touch, overwhelmed and embarrassed and utterly sated. “Chanyeol… don’t say that…”
“Why not?” Chanyeol leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to Baekhyun’s inner thigh, just above the stocking. “It’s true. My pretty omega, all marked up and bred, lying here letting alpha film how perfectly fucked you are.”
He pulled back just enough to zoom in one last time on the slow drip of cum, then panned back up to Baekhyun’s flushed, blissful face.
“You’re beautiful, Baekhyun,” he whispered, sincere and warm. “Every single inch of you.”
Baekhyun’s eyes fluttered, a shy, exhausted smile tugging at his lips as he reached weakly for Chanyeol’s wrist.
Chanyeol finally lowered the camera, thumb hovering over the stop button, but not quite pressing it yet.
“Should we let them see how gorgeous you look full of me, princess?” he teased one last time.
Baekhyun hid his face in the pillow, voice muffled but soft. “Only if you stay with me after.”
Chanyeol’s expression softened completely at Baekhyun’s muffled words. He set the camera down for just a second, leaning over to brush damp blonde strands away from Baekhyun’s forehead and press a lingering kiss there.
“Leave you?” he murmured, voice low and warm, almost incredulous. “Princess, I could never leave you now. Not after this. Not after seeing you like this, feeling you like this.” His thumb traced Baekhyun’s cheekbone tenderly. “I’m already addicted to you. Have been for months. Now I just get to keep you.”
Baekhyun’s breath hitched, a shy, pleased sound escaping him as he peeked out from the pillow. His eyes were still glassy, lips curved in a small, exhausted smile.
Chanyeol’s gaze flicked back to the camera. He picked it up again, keeping it in one hand as he shifted his weight between Baekhyun’s thighs once more. The lens stayed trained downward, capturing the slow drag of his free hand spreading Baekhyun’s legs wider, the way more cum immediately welled up and trickled out of the puffy, ruined pussy.
“Look at this pretty cunt,” Chanyeol said softly, almost reverently, as he angled the camera close. “Still leaking everything I gave you. So swollen and soft, princess. You’re a mess because of me.”
Baekhyun whimpered, hips twitching as Chanyeol’s fingers traced his rim lightly, gathering the leaking mix of cum and slick before pushing it gently back inside. The camera caught every detail—the way Baekhyun’s hole fluttered greedily around the touch, the fresh sheen of fluid coating Chanyeol’s fingers.
Chanyeol lined himself up again, cock already hard and heavy. He kept the camera steady in his right hand, pointed downward so it filmed the slow, slick slide as he pressed back inside. Baekhyun’s pussy took him easily, loose and hot and overflowing, cum squelching audibly as Chanyeol sank in to the hilt.
Baekhyun moaned, long and sweet, back arching slightly off the bed. “Alpha…”
“There we go,” Chanyeol whispered, voice affectionate and warm even as he recorded every inch disappearing inside. “Taking me again so perfectly. Feel how easily you open for me now? All soft and ruined, still dripping my cum while I fill you back up.”
He pulled back slowly, letting the camera catch the creamy mess coating his length, then pushed in again with a gentle roll of his hips. The pace was unhurried this time—deep, steady thrusts that stirred the cum already inside rather than pounding it out.
Every few strokes, Chanyeol lifted the camera to Baekhyun’s face, brushing hair from his eyes with his thumb so the lens could see the flushed cheeks, the parted lips, the dazed pleasure in his expression.
“You’re so beautiful,” he said quietly, directly to Baekhyun now, lowering the camera just long enough for their eyes to meet. “My perfect princess. I want you to see how gorgeous you look when you’re full of me.”
Then the lens was back down, capturing the slow glide in and out, the way Baekhyun’s pussy clung to him each time he withdrew, reluctant to let go. Cum and slick coated everything, shining under the ring light, dripping steadily down Baekhyun’s ass and thighs.
Baekhyun’s hands reached up, fingers curling around Chanyeol’s wrist as if anchoring himself. “Feels so good,” he whispered, voice small and trusting. “Love being full of you.”
Chanyeol’s smile was soft, adoring. “I know, princess,” he murmured. “I’m keeping you full for as long as you want.”
Chanyeol kept the camera in his hand the entire time, but his grip was loose now, almost absent-minded. The lens drifted slowly over Baekhyun’s body as he moved—capturing the gentle roll of his hips, the way Baekhyun’s stockinged legs stayed loosely wrapped around him, the soft shine of sweat on pale skin—but the recording felt secondary. What mattered was the warmth between them, the slow drag of Chanyeol’s cock filling Baekhyun again and again, unhurried and deep.
He rocked forward in long, languid strokes, pulling almost all the way out before sinking back in until the thick head kissed Baekhyun’s cervix with every thrust. Baekhyun’s breath hitched each time, a soft, sweet sound that made Chanyeol’s chest tighten with affection.
“You feel perfect like this, princess,” Chanyeol whispered, voice low and tender. He leaned down to brush his lips over Baekhyun’s temple, then his cheek, then the corner of his mouth. “So warm and soft around me. Taking me so slow and deep… just letting alpha love you.”
Baekhyun’s eyes fluttered half-open, hazy with pleasure. His hands slid up Chanyeol’s arms to rest on his shoulders, fingers curling gently. “Love it,” he breathed, voice small and syrupy. “Love when you’re deep… r-right there… feels like you’re all the way inside my womb.”
Chanyeol hummed, pleased, shifting the camera angle briefly to catch the slow glide in and out, Baekhyun’s puffy pussy clinging to him each time he withdrew. Then he brought the lens back up to Baekhyun’s face, thumbing away a stray tear of overstimulation with his free hand.
“Imagine if I really did breed you,” he murmured softly, teasing but affectionate, hips rolling in another slow, deliberate thrust that nudged Baekhyun’s cervix again. “Put a pup right here. Your belly all round and pretty, tits full and heavy… everyone knowing you’re carrying my baby.”
Baekhyun’s pussy fluttered around him, a soft moan spilling out as his body responded instinctively to the words.
Chanyeol smiled, warm and fond, pressing a gentle kiss to Baekhyun’s lips. “What would your parents think, hm? Their spoiled, perfect little omega coming home pregnant… by someone like me. A working-class alpha who makes coffee for a living and can barely pay rent. They’d be so shocked, wouldn’t they? Their precious son, all swollen and glowing because he let someone like me breed him.”
Baekhyun whimpered, but there was no real distress in it—only heat, only want. His hips lifted slightly to meet the next slow thrust, taking Chanyeol deeper.
“All those people who think you’re the sweet, innocent omega… always so polite, so talented. If they saw this video—if they knew what you really do when you’re alone… dressing up, filming your pretty cunt getting fucked and leaking cum like a desperate little whore…” Chanyeol continued, voice still soft, still loving, even as the teasing edged darker.
He angled the camera down again, showing exactly that: Baekhyun’s ruined pussy stretched around his cock, cum still oozing out with every slow withdrawal.
“They’d realize the truth,” Chanyeol whispered, almost tender. “That their sweet Baekhyun is just a perfect, greedy hole for alpha cock. Made for being filled and bred and used exactly like this.”
Baekhyun sobbed softly, but his legs tightened around Chanyeol’s waist, pulling him closer. His pussy clenched hard, fluttering in waves that made Chanyeol groan low in his throat.
“But you’re my hole,” Chanyeol added quickly, voice warm again, protective. He lowered the camera just enough to lean in and kiss Baekhyun slow and deep, swallowing the soft sounds he made. “My perfect princess. My sweet, beautiful omega. I don’t care what anyone else thinks. I’m keeping you just like this—full, marked, mine.”
Baekhyun melted beneath him, nodding weakly, clinging tighter as Chanyeol kept moving—slow, deep, caring thrusts that promised everything he’d just teased about and more.
Chanyeol’s thrusts stayed slow and deep, each one a deliberate drag that seated his cockhead firmly against Baekhyun’s cervix before pulling back just enough to make the omega feel the loss. The camera in Chanyeol’s hand wavered gently with his movements, catching the soft, wet sounds of cum being stirred inside Baekhyun’s ruined pussy, the way his puffy rim clung to Chanyeol’s shaft on every withdrawal.
Baekhyun's blonde hair was completely disheveled now, cheeks flushed deep pink, lips parted around constant soft gasps. The nightgown remained bunched beneath his chest, stockings twisted and soaked, body marked with hickeys and completely open to Chanyeol’s gaze.
“I want everything with you,” Baekhyun whispered suddenly, voice small but steady despite the haze of pleasure. His eyes met Chanyeol’s over the edge of the camera lens, vulnerable and earnest. “A-all of it. Being yours. I don’t care what anyone thinks. I just want you.”
Chanyeol’s expression softened impossibly, the teasing edge melting into something tender and fierce. He lowered the camera just enough to lean in and kiss Baekhyun again, slow and deep, swallowing the soft whimper that followed.
“You have me, princess,” he murmured against Baekhyun’s lips. “All of me. Always.”
He tilted the camera back down, resuming the gentle rhythm—long, languid strokes that kept nudging Baekhyun’s cervix, making his breath hitch each time. Baekhyun’s small cock lay hard against his belly, untouched and leaking steadily onto the sheer fabric bunched beneath him.
A few minutes later Baekhyun’s hips began to roll more urgently, thighs trembling. “Alpha… close again,” he breathed, voice breaking on a soft moan. “Feels too good… please—”
Chanyeol’s pace quickened just a fraction—not brutal, but deeper, more insistent, each thrust pressing firmly against Baekhyun’s womb. His free hand slid down between them, fingers wrapping gently around Baekhyun’s cocklet. He stroked in time with his hips—slow, firm pulls from base to tip, thumb swiping over the sensitive head to spread the pre-cum.
“Come for me, princess,” Chanyeol whispered, voice warm and coaxing as he kept the camera angled to catch everything: the slow glide of his cock in and out, the way Baekhyun’s pussy fluttered visibly, his hand working Baekhyun’s small length with steady affection. “Show me how pretty you are when you fall apart.”
Baekhyun’s back arched, a broken cry spilling from his lips as his orgasm rolled through him. His cocklet pulsed in Chanyeol’s hand, spilling more weak but generous ropes of cum across his own belly and the bunched nightgown. His pussy clenched hard around Chanyeol’s cock in waves, milking him desperately.
“P-please come inside me,” Baekhyun sobbed softly, clinging to Chanyeol’s shoulders. “Want you to breed me a-again… want to be p-pregnant with your pup, alpha—”
The plea sent Chanyeol over the edge. He thrust deep one last time, grinding against Baekhyun’s cervix as his knot swelled and locked them together once more. Hot pulses of cum flooded Baekhyun’s womb in thick spurts, adding to the load already inside until Baekhyun whimpered at the overwhelming fullness.
“That’s it,” Chanyeol groaned, voice rough with affection as he rode out his release. “Take every drop, princess. Gonna keep you so full… gonna make sure my pup takes this time. You’ll look so beautiful carrying my baby.”
Baekhyun trembled through the aftershocks, legs wrapped loosely around Chanyeol’s waist, tears of overstimulation and happiness gathering in his eyes. He reached up weakly, fingers brushing Chanyeol’s jaw.
“Yours,” he whispered again, soft and certain.
Chanyeol finally lowered the camera, letting it rest against the mattress as he leaned down to kiss Baekhyun slow and tender, knot keeping them tied, bodies pressed close.
“Mine,” he echoed against Baekhyun’s lips. “Always mine.”
The red light blinked one final time before Chanyeol reached over and quietly stopped the recording.
The knot finally began to soften, the tight swell easing enough that Chanyeol could shift his hips without pain. He pressed a gentle kiss to Baekhyun’s swollen lips, then started to pull back slowly, carefully.
The moment the thick head of his cock tugged at Baekhyun’s rim, a thick flood of cum followed, warm and heavy, starting to drip out in slow rivulets.
Baekhyun let out the most pitiful, broken whine Chanyeol had ever heard. His stockinged legs tightened around Chanyeol’s waist again, hands clutching desperately at his shoulders.
“No, no—alpha, don’t,” Baekhyun pleaded, voice small and trembling, eyes wide with genuine distress. “Don’t pull out yet… I don’t want to lose any of it. Please. Want to keep all your cum inside me.”
Chanyeol froze mid-movement, still half-buried in the warm, slick heat. A slow, amused smile spread across his face as he looked down at the flushed, needy omega beneath him.
“Listen to you,” he murmured, voice fond and teasing. He leaned in to nuzzle Baekhyun’s damp temple. “So worried about wasting even a drop. My perfect little princess… do you have something to help with that?”
Baekhyun’s cheeks burned darker, but he nodded shyly against the pillow.
“Nightstand drawer,” he whispered. “There’s… plugs.”
Chanyeol’s smile widened into something wickedly affectionate. He stayed seated deep inside Baekhyun, refusing to let even another trickle escape, and reached over to the nightstand. The movement stirred his softening cock inside Baekhyun’s sensitive pussy, drawing out soft, breathy moans with every small shift.
He pulled the drawer open and let out a low, appreciative hum.
Inside was a neat little collection: a few slim vibrators, a couple of pretty glass dildos, some silky restraints… and a small row of metal plugs in different sizes, all gleaming silver with jeweled bases. Chanyeol’s fingers bypassed the smaller ones and went straight for the medium-sized heart-shaped plug, its base set with a sparkling pink crystal that caught the ring light perfectly.
He held it up between them, raising an eyebrow.
“I really didn’t know you were such a slut, princess,” Chanyeol teased gently, voice warm with amusement and adoration. “Hiding a whole treasure chest of toys right next to your bed. And this one… look at that pretty pink gem.”
Baekhyun let out a breathless little giggle, half-ashamed, half-delighted, hiding his face against Chanyeol’s shoulder even as his pussy fluttered around the cock still inside him.
“Maybe...” he mumbled, voice muffled, “wanted something that felt… full. And pretty.”
Chanyeol chuckled softly, leaning down to kiss Baekhyun’s heated cheek. “My gorgeous, greedy omega.”
He carefully eased out then—just enough for the head to slip free with a wet sound and another thick gush of cum. Baekhyun whimpered again, but before more than a few drops could escape, Chanyeol pressed the cool metal tip of the plug against Baekhyun’s puffy, leaking hole.
“Relax for me, princess,” he murmured.
One slow, steady push and the plug slid home, the heart-shaped base settling snugly between Baekhyun’s cheeks, the pink crystal winking in the light. The tapered bulb locked everything inside, keeping Chanyeol’s load exactly where Baekhyun wanted it.
Baekhyun let out a long, shaky sigh of relief and satisfaction, body going completely boneless beneath Chanyeol.
“Thank you, alpha,” he whispered, eyes fluttering closed, a small, blissful smile on his lips.
“Anything for you, princess,” he said quietly into the dark. “Anything.”
Chanyeol leaned down to press a lingering kiss to Baekhyun’s forehead, then carefully disentangled himself from the omega’s limp arms and legs. He swung his legs over the side of the bed, intending to get up.
The moment he shifted away, Baekhyun’s hand shot out blindly, fingers wrapping around Chanyeol’s wrist in a surprisingly firm grip. His eyes opened just a crack, glazed and worried.
“Don’t go,” Baekhyun mumbled, voice thick with exhaustion and sudden fear. “Please… stay.”
Chanyeol’s heart squeezed. He turned back immediately, brushing his thumb over Baekhyun’s knuckles soothingly.
“I’m not going anywhere, puppy,” he whispered, leaning down to kiss Baekhyun’s fingers. “I promise. I’m just going to get something to clean you up. You’re all sticky and messy because of me—I want to take care of you.”
Baekhyun’s grip loosened slowly, trust flickering back into his sleepy expression. He nodded against the pillow, eyes already fluttering shut again. “…Okay,” he breathed. “Hurry.”
Chanyeol smiled softly. “Two minutes.”
He stood and carefully peeled the ruined nightgown the rest of the way off Baekhyun’s body. The sheer pink fabric was completely soaked—slick, cum, sweat—clinging uncomfortably in places. He bundled it gently, then rolled the damp, fluid-stained stockings down Baekhyun’s legs one at a time, easing them off without jostling him too much. Baekhyun made a small, sleepy sound of relief as the cool air hit his bare skin.
Chanyeol carried the soiled garments to the hamper in the corner, then padded quietly to the bathroom. He ran warm water over a soft washcloth, wringing it out until it was just damp, and grabbed a dry towel as well.
When he returned, Baekhyun was half-asleep, curled slightly on his side, the pink crystal between his cheeks catching the faint light. Chanyeol climbed carefully back onto the bed, settling beside him.
“Still with me, princess?” he murmured.
Baekhyun hummed faintly, eyes closed, lips parted.
Chanyeol worked gently—wiping away the dried streaks on Baekhyun’s thighs and belly, cleaning carefully around the plug without disturbing it, soothing every sensitive spot with the warm cloth. Baekhyun sighed softly at the care, melting further into the mattress.
Chanyeol finished wiping the last traces of mess from Baekhyun’s thighs and tummy with careful, gentle strokes. Baekhyun was already half-asleep, eyelids heavy, breathing slow and even, the pink crystal plug still nestled firmly between his cheeks keeping everything sealed inside. He murmured something soft and incoherent when Chanyeol pulled away, but didn’t wake fully.
Chanyeol looked around the room and grimaced. The sheets were beyond saving for tonight—soaked through with slick, cum, and sweat in multiple places. There was no way Baekhyun could sleep comfortably here.
Decision made, he gathered Baekhyun into his arms bridal-style without hesitation. Baekhyun stirred faintly, arms looping loosely around Chanyeol’s neck on instinct, head dropping to rest against his shoulder.
“Shh, princess,” Chanyeol whispered, pressing a kiss to his temple. “Taking you somewhere cleaner.”
Baekhyun hummed, content, and let himself be carried.
Chanyeol’s room was just across the short hallway. His bed was neatly made, sheets fresh from that morning, smelling faintly of his own alpha scent and the laundry detergent he always used. He laid Baekhyun down in the center like something precious, pulling the soft comforter up to his chest for a moment while he found something to dress him in.
From his dresser he grabbed one of his own oversized t-shirts—soft, worn cotton, dark gray, the one Baekhyun always stole to lounge in because it hung almost to his knees. Chanyeol helped Baekhyun sit up just enough to slip it over his head, guiding limp arms through the sleeves. The shirt swallowed Baekhyun completely, collar slipping off one shoulder, hem brushing mid-thigh. He looked small and adorable in it, blonde hair messy against the fabric.
Baekhyun sighed happily, nuzzling into the pillow that smelled like Chanyeol.
Chanyeol quickly took off his clothes and pulled on a pair of loose gray jogging pants for himself, then he comeback to Baeekhyun's room and stripped his bed with efficient movements—bundling the soaked sheets, gathering the ruined pink nightgown and stockings and his clothes, adding the used washcloths for good measure. He carried the whole armful to the washing machine in the small laundry nook off the kitchen, started a hot cycle with extra detergent, and set it running.
By the time he returned to his room, Baekhyun had burrowed deeper under the covers, curled on his side, one hand tucked under his cheek.
Chanyeol slid in carefully, molding himself to Baekhyun’s back—chest to spine, arm draping over Baekhyun’s waist, hand splaying possessively over the soft fabric covering his belly. Baekhyun made a small, sleepy sound and pressed back into him, instinctively seeking more warmth.
“Better?” Chanyeol whispered against the nape of Baekhyun’s neck.
Baekhyun nodded faintly, voice barely audible. “Much better… smells like you.”
Chanyeol smiled into his hair, pulling him closer. “Good. Sleep now, princess. I’ve got you.”
The washing machine hummed faintly in the background as the apartment settled into quiet. Baekhyun’s breathing evened out first, deep and trusting. Chanyeol stayed awake a little longer, listening to it, feeling the steady warmth of Baekhyun in his arms, the faint pressure of the plug shifting whenever Baekhyun moved in his sleep.
Tomorrow they would talk, about everything. About feelings that had been simmering for months, about the video, about what they wanted next.
But tonight, they were simply together.
Chanyeol pressed one last kiss to Baekhyun’s shoulder, over the soft cotton of his own shirt, and finally let himself drift off.