For a Hungry Omega

Haon was starving.

He usually didn’t even think about food, but whenever hunger struck without warning, he lost all sense of reason and crammed anything edible into his mouth. He devoured whatever he could get his hands on—completely oblivious to what it was or whom it belonged to. It was a side effect caused by the pheromones failing to be released from his body.

“I’m hungry….”

Whenever his unstable heat cycle kicked in, it wasn’t lust that clouded his judgment—it was an overwhelming appetite that consumed him. Because his secondary gender traits manifested far later than most, his pheromone patterns and heat symptoms were different from others, and the resulting frailty made his body prone to illness.

“I’m starving….”

No matter how much he ate, the hunger never went away. That unrelenting void inside him pushed Haon into danger. Whenever a heat episode began, he would clutch his empty stomach and run around blindly, shoving anything into his mouth. He chewed through food that others were eating, even dug into garbage left on the ground with feral desperation.

When there was nothing left to eat, he would cling to strangers, crying hoarsely that he was hungry. If the person happened to be a malicious Alpha, without fail, they would drag him into a motel or a dark alley.

Those Alphas didn’t feed Haon actual food—they made him swallow what came from their own bodies until he was vomiting. Haon had no idea what he was consuming, only begging for more in a pitiful whimper, clinging until his throat gave out.

“Ah!”

Haon’s awareness briefly returned as the crown of his head slammed into the plush headboard of the bed. Blinking back the tears clouding his eyes, he tried to take in his surroundings.

His body rocked uncontrollably, making it impossible to see the Alpha’s face above him clearly. The room was pitch-black, not a sliver of light seeping in.

Had blackout curtains been drawn? Or perhaps there were no windows to begin with.

Thok, thok, thok. The sickening sound of wet flesh colliding echoed with every thrust, sending shivers down his spine.

“Mmgh….”

The man who had been pounding into him suddenly slowed down, moving sluggishly inside him. The intensified stimulation made Haon tremble and grit his teeth. He tried to turn his head away, to avoid breathing in the Alpha’s pheromones, but a large hand stopped him.

“Does it hurt?”

The man cupped Haon’s head gently and asked. Each time Haon’s skull hit the headboard, the man would lift him back up and continue thrusting, releasing more pheromones in the process.

He settled Haon down on his thick thighs, stimulating his slick, twitching cock as he moved.

Overcome with pleasure that made his toes curl, Haon clung to the man, lips parting in a dazed gasp.

He wanted to say no, to protest.

But all that spilled from his saliva-smeared lips, flushed with heat, were helpless moans. The thick cloud of pheromones that wrapped around his body made his tongue feel like it was curling backward.

It felt so good it was hard to breathe.

Every time the Alpha’s hands touched his flushed, overheated body, soft, lewd whimpers slipped through Haon’s clenched teeth. When the man traced the deep curve of his spine, Haon even started moving his hips on his own.

It wasn’t his will.

“You’re pretty good at this.”

The man let out a quiet chuckle, as if praising the Omega who was moving his hips on his own. At that, Haon’s tears burst forth.

It wasn’t the first time he’d been wrapped up in a stranger’s arms like this.

Though his body had grown used to the act itself, Haon, hazy from the fever of his heat, cried every time out of sheer misery.

His last clear memory was finishing up another short-term job and changing in the locker room.

Because of his frail health, Haon couldn’t take on high-paying jobs like construction sites or logistics centers. Instead, he drifted between fill-in gigs—waitstaff and event guidance—jobs that wouldn’t strain his body. His irregular heat cycles made holding a permanent position out of the question.

“Hngh…”

Today had been the last shift of a two-week stint at a high-end restaurant that emphasized “neat appearance.”

So was this man a restaurant employee? Or maybe another temp worker like him?

Haon’s hips, which had been desperately grinding to stimulate his inner walls, suddenly stopped. The man had grabbed his narrow hips and brought him to a halt.

“Why are you crying so much?”

The man whispered softly as he leaned in closer to Haon. He kissed Haon’s parted lips and gently stroked his hips and rounded backside, as if trying to soothe him.

“Are you always this tearful?”

The man’s lips brushed against his like a kiss that never fully landed. The sensation was oddly tender, a strange contrast to his deep, gruff voice. The soft touch that tickled even inside his mouth made Haon’s body heat up all over again.

As he started moving his hips again, trying to calm the burn deep in his gut, he heard a dry exhale—could’ve been a sigh, maybe a laugh. The man said something more, but Haon, eyes losing focus, couldn’t register it.

And just like that, his consciousness faded away once more.

***

When Haon opened his eyes, he blinked up at an unfamiliar ceiling. His eyelids were swollen from crying so much that he could barely open them.

“Ugh…”

He tried to sit up but gave up immediately, clutching his aching lower back.

It wasn’t just his back—his hips and the insides of his thighs were sore and burning.

After squirming under the blanket for a long while, he finally managed to lift his head slightly.

Sunlight streamed in through a gap in the curtains.

He’d woken up in cheap motels before, but never in a hotel this spacious and luxurious. And he’d never been cleaned up so thoroughly, body freshly washed and dry.

Cough.

As he tried to pull the blanket off, the cold air brushing against his bare skin made him quickly burrow back under the covers.

Even slow movements made him groan under his breath. His back ached, his limbs felt heavy, and the throbbing between his legs made it hard to even lie still.

He coughed again, then froze when the door suddenly swung open. Instinctively, he shut his eyes tight.

He hadn’t planned to fake sleep, but his breath caught in his throat on its own.

The sound of slippers shuffling across the floor drew closer and closer to the bed.

‘Please,’ Haon thought, swallowing dryly. ‘Just glance and leave…’

He swallowed dryly, praying that the approaching Alpha wouldn’t climb onto the bed. If anything more happened here, he was sure he wouldn’t be able to walk for days.

‘Please…’

That desperate wish was stripped away the moment the blanket was pulled back.

A cold hand pried his thighs apart, the chill of it making his legs twitch instinctively.

Haon clenched his teeth and kept pretending to sleep, forcing his body to stay limp. Sometimes, when he didn’t react, the guy would get bored and leave sooner—if he was lucky.

But right now, the real problem wasn’t even the man between his legs.

It was the damn hotel.

Haon, now more lucid, was far more terrified of the potential room charge than he was of the Alpha parting his ass in broad daylight. Even he could tell, just by looking at the furniture and wallpaper, that this place wasn’t cheap.

‘He’s definitely going to want me to split the cost,’ he thought, his stomach churning. ‘Or worse—he’ll say I owe him and keep going until it evens out…’

He couldn’t decide which scenario was worse.

Normally, he’d just pay his half and run off without looking back, but here? He couldn’t even guess the price, let alone afford it. Even if he scraped together every last won in his account, it probably wouldn’t be enough.

But if he kept going like this, his body would give out. He could feel it already.

“Ugh…”

While he was lost in his spiraling thoughts, something even colder than the man’s hand touched the cleft between his cheeks.

So he really was going to go all the way.

A long finger, slick with the chilled substance, slid up and down between Haon’s ass, spreading the gel along the sensitive crease.

A wave of goosebumps prickled down Haon’s spine as he clenched his teeth to keep from crying out.

Even the sorest, most battered parts of him were now coated in the slippery liquid.

He could tell the finger would enter him soon. Taking a long, slow breath through his nose, he braced himself.

He’d had sex plenty of times even after his heat ended, but never—not once—because he wanted to.

It was always because someone else did.

Haon couldn’t refuse Alphas who pulled apart his legs on a whim or barged in while he was in the middle of washing up, climbing onto him without a word. He didn’t even realize he had the right to say no.

“Um, excuse me….”

Unable to bear the slow invasion any longer, Haon finally opened his mouth.

“Can we rest for a bit before we… keep going?”

He gasped out the words and weakly pushed at the man’s wrist. He’d tried to endure it somehow, but this—this part—he just couldn’t do anymore.

Thankfully, the man backed off at his resistance.

When the finger, which had barely entered him, slipped out, Haon let out a breath of relief.

But he couldn’t relax—not yet.

“I-I’m really sorry, but I don’t think I can do penetration anymore.”

Cold sweat beaded along Haon’s forehead. His eyes, trembling and unfocused, stayed fixed on the bed sheets.

“But… I can use my mouth instead….”

His voice trailed off, quiet and hesitant.

He offered, but in truth, he wasn’t confident at all.

He’d been told more than once that he was no good with his mouth—that his suction was weak, that he didn’t know how to use his tongue.

“I’ll try my best.”

Still, anything was better than taking it again down there.

He knew exactly how agonizing it was when the inside tore. He’d suffered through it before, and the fear gripped him even more tightly now.

Even now, his ass already felt torn. The cold gel the man had applied dulled the sting a bit, but the pain lingered.

“I’m not going to do anything.”

The man’s voice finally cut through the tense silence, low and resolute.

Haon instinctively turned his head toward the direction of the voice. For a second, the voice was so pleasant he thought someone had turned on the TV.

But the moment his eyes landed on the man’s face, Haon’s mouth and eyes flew open in unison.

In all his life, he’d never seen anyone who looked like that.

“Are you hungry?”

The man, setting a tube of ointment down on the nightstand, asked casually. But Haon was too stunned to respond—he was too busy gawking at the man’s face, eyes darting around like a starstruck fan encountering a celebrity in real life.

Anyone else might have been unsettled by the blatant staring, but the man seemed used to it. He let Haon stare all he wanted, unbothered.

Which was perfect, because Haon drank in the sight with zero shame.

“Wow.”

He even blurted out a gasp of admiration right to the man’s face. He was so shocked by the man’s actor-level good looks that for a second, he really did think he was watching a screen.

“Your skin is just…”

What stunned Haon most was the man’s impossibly pale, flawless skin.

His complexion looked as if he were standing under a spotlight—radiant and glowing. Haon had grown up in the countryside, and though he’d often been surprised by the bright skin of Seoul locals, he had never seen anyone this clear and luminous.

“Do you want porridge or rice?”

Noticing how long Haon had been staring, the man tilted his head slightly and asked again.

“There’s bread, too.”

Still dazed, Haon instinctively shook his head, then belatedly parted his lips.

“Uh… I’m okay. I don’t need anything.”

Only then did he realize how long he’d been shamelessly staring, and his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. Feeling exposed under the sheets, he reflexively pulled his legs together. The man gently reached out and covered him with the blanket himself.

Thankfully, it really didn’t seem like he intended to do anything more.

“You’ll need to eat something if you want to take medicine.”

The man sat down at the edge of the bed and gestured toward the nearby nightstand. On it were a covered glass of water, the ointment, and a few small medicine boxes.

“What kind of medicine?”

Haon paused, eyeing the boxes warily, then asked cautiously.

For a moment, anxiety surged. ‘Was he going to give him something weird?’

Maybe sensing that worry, the man picked up the topmost box and showed it to him. It was emergency contraception. Below that were regular over-the-counter painkillers from a pharmacy.

“I was as careful as I could be,” the man said quietly. “But if you’re worried, you should take it.”

“Oh… I’m fine.”

Haon refused immediately, in the same tone he’d use to turn down a meal. At his reply, the man’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly.

“I mean… You don’t have to worry.”

Before the man could try to insist, Haon cleared his throat and quickly added an explanation: He couldn’t get pregnant.