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“Hyung! S-sorry, said I was sorry!”

“I’m hearing a lot of sorrys right now, little one,” 

Moomyung is currently delivering a flurry of slaps to his favorite peach, Hansung writhing around on his lap. Part of him wishes his omega would just stay still but the other part enjoys the kicking, the squirming. Hansung’s cute. Whether or not he’s trying to be right now, Moomyung finds it endearing. He’s got his flannel pajama pants bunching around his thighs, and his sleep shirt tucked up so Moomyung can rub his lower back when he needs him to still. He loves how smooth and voluptuous Hansung’s thighs are, how he jostles his legs when Moomyung rubs the red out of his bottom only to start up again. He can hear the whine in the back of Hansung’s throat before he starts to beg again. 


“I really mean it! Please, please, hyung, pleeease.” Hansung’s sniffly now and his voice is cracking so Moomyung figures he should be done soon. 


He knows Hansung still needs time to adjust to this. It’s only been three months since he’s moved in with his new alphas, not really knowing any of them particularly well. They keep him on a tight leash, however, because he’s their Omega, their fated mate, their little angel. Hansung is sweet and naive and innocent and sometimes submissive. Only sometimes. 


Twenty-two, and still in college, Hansung had been shocked to find that he had a fated mate at all. By discovering that he had five really threw him for a loop. Soon he started avoiding all of them. It was something he was unsure of, anxious about, and not very comfortable with. But he really liked Moomyung. And when Moomyung had decided that he wanted Hansung to move in, he couldn’t exactly refuse . . . 

And the alphas all have the same agenda for their sweet Hansung; control, firm love, strict rules. Hansung was certainly a free spirit and difficult to rope in, let alone tame but they were all up for the challenge. He was loud and excitable and loved to adventure so for him to have to adjust to new rules, new limitations set by them, was probably making him feel suffocated more than protected, but neither of them cared. And when Hansung broke a rule or toed the line, took too much of a risk, they didn’t hesitate to pull him back to where he belonged. With them. 


“I suppose you might mean it, but I really need action to trump words, sweet thing,” Moomyung is rubbing the sore spots on his thighs and Hansung is probably receiving the illusion that everything is going to end soon. That he’ll let him up and they’ll cuddle or watch a movie. But Moomyung wait a little bit, keeping him on edge, before continuing. “We’ll see where you’re at.”

“Wh-no! No, no, no, no, please !” Hansung voice breaks now and he wails openly when Moomyung continues to spank him, flattening his palm to cause more of a sting. He has a strong grip on Hansung’s slim waist to hold him in place while he finishes. Stopping and starting over and over again is wearing on Hansung and he can only take so much before he breaks down. That’s happening now, Moomyung notes. Hansung is crying into the sofa cushion now, his bottom most likely uncomfortably hot, cheeks darkening to a pretty shade of cerise. It must feel like an eternity over his knee but Moomyung notes that it’s only been roughly ten minutes. This lesson should most likely stick. 

“Oh, no, what are we doing?”

Suho’s voice drags Moomyung away from his task for a few minutes and Hansung takes advantage of that to catch his breath. Moomyung smiles at his beta mate and rubs one of Hansung’s cheeks, slapping right where buttock meets thigh to keep him from kicking again. “Behave.”

“What’d he do?”

“He’s taken to leaving the house without permission. It seems he forgets to ask, hm?” Moomyung’s directed the question at Hansung now, who just stutters and trips over his own words in a failed attempt at an explanation. He settles for  gentle crying again. Moomyung allows it, rubbing his lower back again.

“That’s no good. You gotta follow the rules, pup, they’re there to keep you safe,” Suho comes over to give Hansung a kiss on the cheek. Hansung flinches when he slaps his bottom, too. He’s going to be so sore. Moomyung debates on whether or not to stick him in a corner after letting him up.

“Well, I think someone’s going to remember this for a long time to come. But just for good measure . . .” Moomyung slaps his thighs a couple more times, while asking Suho, “corner time? What do you think?”


“Corner time it is then. Come on, up you go,” Moomyung gives Hansung a couple minutes to compose himself before hoisting him up, and walking him into the kitchen with a grip on his arm. He would rather have him in the dining room, but the kitchen has the hardwood chairs he likes, and he knows that Hansung is going to loathe them. Poor thing.

“H-hyung, what . . .”

Moomyung swiftly pulls a chair out and carries it to a corner of the kitchen with ease. He faces it against the wall and then looks at Hansung, bending a bit to speak to him eye to eye. “You’ll sit here for the next ten minutes and think about an apology to give. I’ll tell you when your time is up.”

“Bu--sitting. Do I have to? I’m really sore , hyung . . .” there’s unshed tears threatening to cross Hansung’s long lashes but Moomyung doesn’t budge.

“Ten minutes. Now, Hansung.”

“C-Can I pull up my”--

“No. Ten minutes. This is the last time I’ll repeat myself or you’re going over my knee for another five. Understand?”

“Yes,” Hansung wipes his face on his sweater and goes to sit on the chair, slowly, hissing when his raw bottom makes contact with the hardwood. Moomyung goes to grab him a couple tissues, but not before giving him a quick kiss and whispering ‘good boy.’ Hansung thanks him for the tissues and uses them to blow his nose, and wipe his eyes. Moomyung eyes the clock for the time before going out to the living room again where Suho is flipping through a file no doubtly from work. 

“How’s he doing?”

“He’s fine. He’ll bounce back,” Moomyung sits beside him. “But what about you ? What are you working on?”

Suho sighs and leans back, giving Moomyung a docile smile. “Client attorney privilege, your honor.”

“So, it’s the Cha case?”

“Yeah. This is some wild case, but I’m getting paid a shit ton to get this guy off, so . . .” Suho shrugs, “it’s not like he’s a murderer or anything. And he’s in with one of your clients, so if this goes well, everything goes well.”

“It will. You’ll win. You always do.” Moomyung gets up to peek his head back into the kitchen, catching Hansung rubbing at his sore bottom. “Hansung! Hands folded in your lap please.”

“But it hurts really bad!” Hansung sinks down in the chair dramatically, tissues bundled up in one hand.

“Sit up straight, hands folded. Don’t make me repeat myself.” 

Hansung does so, begrudgingly. 

“Five more minutes. Be a good boy.”

Moomyung decides to stand there and watch him for the rest of the five minutes. He squirms a bit, trying to find a position that’s most likely more comfortable than how he’s sitting now, but he can’t and Moomyung almost sighs when his legs start to bounce. He knows he’s probably all riled up now but it’s a habit he wants to nip in the bud.

“Hansung, feet flat against the floor. Stay still. It’s only two more minutes.”

Hansung, ever the drama king, places his feet against the floor with a stomp and makes an angry noise, somewhat like a groan. Moomyung smiles to himself. He knows he shouldn’t really be enjoying himself but he is. Hansung’s adorable, and he’s much too cute for his anger to be seen as anything other than bratty behavior. That’s what he is sometimes. Moomyung’s little brat.