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Mingyu starts on his knees, settling between thick, muscled thighs, every inch of him soft and eager. His wide, glassy eyes lift as though offering something sacred—like this isn’t just a favor, but a gift he’s desperate to give. Something he wants. Something he needs.
When the alpha reaches down and guides him closer, Mingyu parts his lips without hesitation, mouth already wet, breath already quickening. His big hands brace on the alpha’s thighs, fingers splayed wide, trembling ever so slightly as if he’s afraid to hold too tight. Afraid to ruin the moment. Afraid to ruin himself.
His mouth stretches to take the first push of cock—thick and hot on his tongue—his jaw working instinctively, throat adjusting as he breathes slow and steady through flared nostrils. A shiver races through him when the alpha groans low, that sound like gravel underfoot, sinking heavy into his bones. It makes him flush, skin prickling hot, heart thudding deep in his chest.
Praise has always done this to him. Praise makes him hunger.
He presses his tongue up, slick and generous, hollowing his cheeks as he starts to suck with real intent—loud and messy, spit gathering fast at the corners of his mouth. He doesn’t hide the filth of it. Doesn’t care about shame. He gives himself over, lets the alpha use his mouth, lets the slow thrusts build—each one deeper, harder, until spit starts to drip, until his throat flutters tight around the invading length.
It’s brutal, unforgiving, but nothing he can’t take.
He chokes once—just once—then adjusts with practiced patience, a soft, wet moan rumbling deep as his throat works to swallow the alpha down.
The alpha shifts, planting both hands in Mingyu’s hair, fingers threading deep at the scalp, then locking together behind his head like a tether.
Mingyu doesn’t resist. He holds position, wet breath hitching through his nose, wide eyes glistening as the alpha pushes deeper—slow but relentless. There’s no warning. No pullback. Just the solid, weighty press of the cock’s thick base nudging against his swollen lips. Not fully swollen yet, not truly set, but heavy with the promise of what’s coming.
The alpha rocks forward again—this time grinding deeper, heavier, stretching him wide around the soft, malleable skin at the base of his cock—not fully engorged, not yet, but filling him to the edge of breaking.
Mingyu shifts, just a little—an instinct, not a protest. A tiny rock of his neck, a breath caught low in his throat, trying to ease the pressure at the corners of his mouth. Trying to settle in deeper, take it better, make more room where there isn’t any.
But the hands tighten—slow and deliberate, fingers curling tighter in his hair until his scalp aches, until his face is shoved down, forced flush to the root, nowhere left to go. Not rough. Not rushed. Just—final. Final in a way that makes Mingyu’s whole body go rigid, blood roaring in his ears, some primitive part of him recognizing too late what’s about to happen.
And that’s when Mingyu gets it.
His chest caves. His gut twists. His eyes dart up, wide with panic, searching the alpha’s face for mercy—but there’s no rage there. No cruelty. Only something far more dangerous—certainty. Like the alpha has already decided. Like this was never going to end any other way.
A broken, wet noise bubbles in Mingyu’s throat—startled, confused. His palms press harder against the alpha’s thighs, not shoving, but pleading. Asking. Begging. God, stop, let me go—please.
The knot, filling now—truly expanding—grinds harder into the roof of his mouth, thickening with every breath, forcing his jaw wider, heavier, too much. His tongue flattens uselessly beneath it, pinned and twitching. His lips strain, stretched past comfort, past reason.
He panics, shoving harder now, fingers clawing for leverage, slipping uselessly on sweat. His shoulders jerk, head straining back as far as it will go, trying to pull free without tearing. His legs scramble for purchase on the floor, knees sliding, body twisting, desperate to shift the angle—desperate for even an inch of space. He whines, broken and raw, palms smacking harder, again and again, like that might make the alpha let go. Like that might make this stop.
Nothing works. Nothing gives. The harder he fights, the worse it gets—until the pressure turns sharp, white-hot, splitting pain lancing through his jaw, locking him down so brutally that the panic folds in on itself, cracking wide open into helpless, shaking terror.
The knot has already grown too thick, locking him in place, sealing his mouth shut. A choking sound bursts from his throat—wet, guttural, and helpless. His lips tremble. His jaw quivers. His whole body trembles.
And then—he breaks.
A sob tears free, loud and ragged, saliva spilling freely down his chin, slickness coating his skin, pooling at the corners of his mouth. His throat contracts helplessly, gagging again and again around the girth stretching him wide. The knot pulses, swelling larger still, spreading his lips to their limit. His eyes roll, nose running, body shuddering as he chokes on the weight of it.
And then the alpha moves—not fast, not rough—just slow, grinding pulses, testing the seal, savoring the way Mingyu’s lips flutter uselessly around the swollen base. He fucks his mouth with tiny, shallow rocks of his hips—barely moving, but enough to make Mingyu feel it.
Every thick roll presses deeper, heavier, until Mingyu’s nose is smashed against his skin, until Mingyu’s throat flexes helplessly around the knot with every wet, muffled sound he makes.
Like he’s nothing more than a sleeve to squeeze, a mouth to fuck, a throat to fill.
The alpha breathes deep—steady, controlled—dragging it out, using every inch of him.
Mingyu whimpers, shattered, held wide and helpless as the alpha takes exactly what he wants—takes his time. Finally, without warning, the alpha drives in one last time—deep, tight, locked—and he comes.
The first spurt hits the back of his throat—hot, thick, sudden—forcing a reflexive swallow that makes his whole body jolt. He can’t do anything but swallow, choking again as another pulse follows, then another, faster, heavier. Cum pours down his throat in waves, each surge grinding the knot tighter against his tongue, sealing his lips so completely that nothing can escape. It fills him, forces its way deeper until his stomach knots with the weight of it.
He can’t gag properly, just sobs, swallowing over and over, tears streaking his cheeks, nose streaming, body convulsing from the overwhelming force of it.
And it doesn’t stop. It feels like he’s being pumped full—stretched and filled and bred, every inch of him owned. His head spins, jaw numb, lips spasming around the knot as his vision fractures.
Finally, the alpha releases his grip on Mingyu’s hair, hands falling away—not to grant mercy, just to show he doesn’t have to hold him there at all. He’s still trapped, lips stretched to the edge of splitting, throat fluttering weakly around the unyielding girth. He sags forward slightly, helpless, dazed.
The alpha leans back to admire the wreckage—breathing hard, chest rising and falling—and then, without a word, reaches down with maddening calm, using his thumb and index finger to pinch Mingyu’s nose shut.
The panic hits immediately—sharp, electric terror snapping through his veins like a live wire. He kicks once, body jolting, head trying to yank back, gagging hard—but the tie holds fast, swollen and locked, sealing every escape. His lips flutter uselessly around it, leaking in broken dribbles.
He can’t breathe.
He can’t breathe.
His vision swims. His lungs burn. His hands scramble—pushing, clawing, hitting harder now, panic turning frantic. He grabs at the alpha’s wrists, scratches down his thighs, anything to make him stop, make him let go—anything to keep from blacking out.
But the alpha doesn’t move. Doesn’t even flinch. Just watches, calm, unbothered, utterly satisfied.
And waits.
Waits as Mingyu trembles, fights, breaks. Waits until his body starts to spasm, until his limbs go slack, until black spots burst behind his eyes and terror peaks, sharp and brutal.
Only then—only when Mingyu is seconds from slipping under—does the alpha release the pinch.
Mingyu sucks in a ragged, broken gasp through his nose, the sound shattered, torn from deep in his chest. He convulses, sobbing helplessly as saliva and cum pour down his chin, his throat still stretched wide, still locked, still utterly, brutally claimed.
A flicker of something cuts through the haze—shame, maybe, or something worse. He doesn’t even know what he’s crying for anymore. Relief? Humiliation? It’s all tangled, choking him from the inside out. He shudders again, not sure if it’s over—not sure if he wants it to be.
The alpha strokes his cheek, smoothing damp hair back from his face, gentle as anything.
And says nothing at all.