Work Text:
“No, please—I just wanted to talk to someone about my coverage for medication, can I just—”
“Ma’am, this is the department for international student policies. Are you an international student?”
“No…? No! What?” Nayeon sticks her fist in her mouth, biting down on her knuckles. Her throat feels raw from resisting the urge to scream. It takes her a moment before she starts speaking again. “I mean, I am a student, but I was born and raised in South Korea—my mother grew up in Guri and my dad grew up in Seoul—oh, who gives a fuck. Listen, I just needed to ask someone if my level of cover allows heat blocker medicine to be bulk billed—”
“Ma’am, if you’re not an international student, you need to call the local operating lines. I cannot help you.”
“I did! They transferred me here! I’m just as confused as you!”
“Ma’am, I would prefer it if you kept your voice down. There’s no need to get emotional.”
“Emotional? Emotional? I’m murderous !” Nayeon yells. “Homicidal!”
“Ma’am, if there’s nothing else I can do for you, I will need to terminate this conversation. Would you mind taking a quick three-question survey after the end of this call?”
“Do I mind—what????”
“Yes or no, ma’am.”
“No!”
“Okay. Have a lovely rest of your afternoon. Goodbye.”
Nayeon stares at the CALL ENDED screen, dumbfounded. Forty minutes on hold, ten minutes trying to get some clinically depressed-sounding operator to transfer her to the correct department, a three-minute phone call in which Nayeon confesses to murderous intent. For absolutely nothing.
She kicks off her bed blankets, flipping onto her stomach. She settled into bed with the expectation that she could get a quote probably within an hour—accounting for hold times, any other kind of red tape. Of course, that had somehow been too naïve. Now she’s stuck in bureaucratic hell: kicked off her family’s health plan after turning 21, her own student plan pretty measly in comparison—and forced to beg for scraps, so she doesn’t have to subsist off of instant noodles and spam for another month.
Nayeon presses the heel of her palm against her clit, through the soft cotton of her panties, feeling agitated. Things are always uncomfortable leading up to her heat—more sensitive, more hot, more prone to ill-advised emotional outbursts. She’s always had bad heats, always took the edge off with medication. It’s two in the afternoon, but what she would give to pop a fucking heat blocker pill and go to bed.
She repositions so she’s on her knees, arm braced against her pillow, forehead braced against her forearm, languidly rutting down onto her palm. She’s wet—has been at least for an hour now—and is starting to feel a little desperation coming in. Dreadful. If her pre-heat is like this, she thinks next week might be shape up to be the worst days of her life.
She blindly grabs for her phone and dials the number for her health insurance again. She’ll be on hold for at least half an hour, if not more—enough time to get herself off, at least, gather some patience, and a little more sympathy for those stuck as call centre workers for fucking health insurance companies. She’s not going to be her mother yelling at cashiers, she hopes.
Thank you for calling All Body Options Healthcare. Please listen closely to the following instructions, as our options have changed. For information regarding our recent cyber attack, please press one.
“Ugh,” she grunts, pressing down onto her palm harder, rocking her hips back and forth in slow little jerks. The stimulation is less than satisfactory, but her dildo is in a bag somewhere underneath her bed, and she can’t be bothered stopping to get it out.
If you are not a member and wish to sign up with All Body Options Healthcare, please press two.
She pushes her underwear to the side, the material already somewhat ruined with her own slick, running an experimental finger through her slit. Her hips jerk—hard—when she presses a nail against her clit, a soft little ah escaping her. Eases up on that immediately—she’ll cum too quickly.
If you are a hospital or doctor provider, please press three.
She’s using the edge of her hand as a stiff surface to grind on. The bed makes pitiful creaking noises as she shifts her hips back and forth, feet bracing against the bed for leverage.
If you are calling to inquire about overseas and extras cover, please press four.
God, she needs her vibrator. It’s buried in the same bag the dildo is, she thinks. She’s not even sure this feeling she’s experiencing is satisfaction, just that the pressure on her clit feels good in the way that ASMR videos do—good in only the most generally expected of ways, with the added bonus of a light tingling sensation somewhere down her spine.
Jesus, unnie, the room fucking stinks. What are you doing?
Nayeon’s hips falter. That’s not an automated voice from her phone.
Unnie, the voice gasps, realizing what she’s looking at. Nayeon feels like hitting Momo over the head with a comically large hammer.
“GET OUT OH MY GOD,” she yells, her face, now more than ever, buried into her pillow. They’ve fooled around enough that Nayeon actually doesn’t give a fuck that Momo’s seeing her like this, except that the way she’s seeing her leans more towards desperate and less towards sexy. She’s not lying on her back with her legs spread and back artfully arched. She’s rutting into her hand like a teenager. The embarrassment of it burns. Somehow, she’s wetter than before.
She knows that if she stops masturbating she might actually get into a fistfight with Momo for interrupting her, so she doesn’t. Hopes Momo will do the sensible thing and just leave.
Then she hears the loud thud of something being dropped on the floor. A gym bag? Fuck, don’t tell her Momo was at the gym before this.
Momo approaches closer—Nayeon can smell it. Her scent is atrociously strong, and always stinkier after a workout.
“ARE YOU NOT LEAVING?"
Distantly, she recalls the phone call. Nayeon strains her ear to listen to the options.
For all other inquiries, please press nine.
What were options five to eight, again? She almost sobs out of frustration.
Weight dips the bed underneath them.
“Did your heat come early?” Momo asks. They keep track of each other’s cycles. They’re roommates, it’s practically essential—sure, they fuck, but heats and ruts are a whole different thing. Nayeon feels her come closer with every creak of the bed.
“No, not yet,” Nayeon grunts, sliding her hand out from her underwear and bracing herself with two arms on her pillow instead. That gives her enough leverage to look over her shoulder, and—fucking hell, yeah, Momo was at the gym. Stupid sports bra and stupid nylon gym shorts. The thin material makes the outline of her hard cock look ridiculously apparent.
She looks freshly showered, though, hair still damp—she got this shag cut a week back, which might have made anyone else look stupid, a grunge band reject, if it wasn’t her. Nayeon still resents how good it makes her look—she witnessed no less than a dozen different omegas at varying stages of arousal as they walked home to the dorms on campus that day.
You have not selected any of our options. Please make a selection.
Please listen closely to the following instructions, as our options have changed. For information regarding our recent cyber attack, please press one.
“Who… is talking right now?”
“Phone,” Nayeon sighs, eyes fluttering shut as Momo hooks two fingers on the waistband of her underwear, dragging it down her thighs. She lifts her legs, one at a time, so Momo can drag the clothing over her ankle, tossing it away to somewhere unwanted.
“Is this what you get off on?”
“Fuck off? I need to call my insurance about whether or not I get heat medication bulk billed. I got kicked off my family’s plan, remember?”
Momo makes a vaguely uninterested noise, like she actually couldn’t care less. “Hmmm. Can I eat you out?”
Fucking alphas. Fucking Momo, actually—Nayeon’s pantsless and with her ass up, was the afternoon really going to go any other way?
“Oh my god, yes, just fucking do it already,” Nayeon says, sucking in air through her teeth when Momo parts her folds with two thumbs, running her tongue flat against her slit before dipping her tongue down into her hole. Momo lets out an almost pathetically long satisfied moan as soon as she tastes her, like she was waiting all day to eat her out and she’s happy to finally be there.
Nayeon drops forehead back down onto her arms, rocking her hips back into Momo’s mouth. “God, Momo. That’s good, fuck.”
Momo moans again, the vibrations running straight to her clit. Nayeon shoves a hand underneath her shirt and starts tweaking at her nipples, breathing in hard through her nose, lightheaded with arousal.
If you are calling about eligibility for a hospital stay, please press five.
If you are calling about eligibility for any non-hospital related inquiries, please press six.
Oh, shit, that might be her thing. Nayeon fumbles for her phone, hand shaking. It takes her a few tries to tap the number pad, but she manages to hit 6 eventually.
Welcome to the All Body Options Healthcare eligibility hotline. Did you know you can conduct your own eligibility check online? Go to All Body Option’s website—that’s w-w-w dot all body options dot com forward slash eligibility—and use our website to check policy cover at your own pace.
Momo’s fucking licking her everywhere —thorough and dedicated, curling her tongue into her folds, pushing against her walls, jaw working tirelessly, feasting on a last meal. Somewhere between all of it Nayeon starts moaning absolute nonsense, worked up beyond belief, carelessly grinding her hips against Momo’s mouth, too lost in her own pleasure to care if she breaks her nose or something close.
Eventually Nayeon gasps out: “I’m going to, Momo, fuck, I’m close,” to which Momo takes as the cue to begin rubbing hard circles against her clit with her thumb, sending Nayeon’s body into seizing trembles.
Nayeon bites down onto her arm, letting out a far too loud shriek into her pillow, toes curling with pleasure as she rides out her orgasm on Momo’s relentless attention.
Your call is very important to us. Please hold as we try to reach a representative.
The hold music is Cello Suite No. 1 in G Major. Nayeon only recognises it because her sister took cello in middle school and was not very good at it, precipitating her one-sided resentment of Yo-Yo Ma and anything to do with Bach.
“You’re still going with that insurance stuff?” Momo says, letting Nayeon collapse onto her back. Her arms feel like jelly from holding herself up, everywhere else feels like jelly from the orgasm, and her head feels blissfully empty.
Momo’s cock is threatening to burst the groin seam of her shorts. Nayeon takes pity.
“I need the medication,” Nayeon says, motioning for Momo to come forward. “You know my heats are pretty bad. Even if it doesn’t stop them, it makes them less worse.”
“You’ve got me, though,” Momo says. Her eyes look wide with sincerity, and not for the first time Nayeon realises she’s actually quite cute.
“Momo, I would happily spend a week fucking you into oblivion, but I can’t afford to miss that much class. You too. The university subsidizes heat and rut blockers for a reason—not that those are strong enough for me. Take your shorts off.”
Momo takes her shorts off. Her dick springs out, quite comically, hitting her stomach, thick and red with neglect. Nayeon spits on her hand and reaches out to rub at the head of her cock, tutting softly at the way Momo’s hips instantly react to her touch, rubbing herself against Nayeon’s palm.
“I know you, like, walked in on me touching myself,” Nayeon says, taking the precum leaking from the tip of Momo’s dick and spreading it along her shaft, twisting her hand as she strokes downwards, “But you came in so horny today. Were you worked up? Is your rut close, too?”
Momo’s sucking in heavy breaths, moaning helplessly. “N… no, not for another month,” she says, leaning forward slightly, one hand bracing against Nayeon’s shoulder.
Her hips are moving in earnest, like she’s trying to fuck Nayeon’s hand. Momo’s particular brand of pathetic, desperate want whenever Nayeon has her in her hands is little a terrible power trip—sometimes, if she pushes her buttons in the right way, Momo will fuck her hard and without remorse, melting her into her shitty university-issue single-sized mattress.
“Something else, then,” Nayeon hums, thinking pensively on how to get Momo there, exactly. Nayeon halts Momo’s movements with a hand on her hip, pressing firmly. She hunches over slightly, pressing a teasing little kiss to the tip of her dick before swirling a tongue around the head and sinking her mouth down.
Momo actually growls, her other hand—not on Nayeon’s shoulder—instantly moving to cup the back of her head, fisting a handful of hair. Nayeon works her way down to the base, jaw tensing with the strain of it, breathing shallowly through her nose, before removing her mouth and licking her tongue up the length of her shaft.
Nayeon grins, runs her tongue against Momo’s balls, punctuating it with: “Was Jihyo there? At the gym?”
Momo’s grip on her hair tightens. “Oh my god,” she groans, stuttering, then: “No, she wasn’t—oh fuck.”
Nayeon stops sucking, looking up at her with innocent eyes. “Are you sure…?”
“I don’t know why you insist that I have some repressed crush on her, I don’t,” Momo frowns, hooking a hand underneath Nayeon’s chin and forcing her to look up at her. Nayeon wraps a hand around her balls, grins when Momo’s eyelids flutter at a couple of rough tugs. “I seriously don’t.”
Nayeon shrugs. Momo having a crush on Jihyo wouldn’t be implausible, though Nayeon’s never seen them interact one-on-one long enough to figure it out. “That’s too bad. She told me she’d fuck you if you asked. She’s totally into that alpha-slash-alpha stuff.”
Momo’s eyes shoot open. “Really?”
“No, you idiot,” Nayeon laughs, laughing even harder at Momo’s pissed off expression, the frustrated frown of her brows. The grip on her hair tightens even more, to an almost painful pinch.
“You think you’re so funny, you think you’re so fucking funny…”
Nayeon hisses at the sensation of another tug at her hair. “You gonna fuck me about it?”
Momo lets out a little low growl. Nayeon takes that as a yes.
She sucks Momo off and lets her cum in her mouth. She takes her shirt off and rinses her mouth with the bottle of water she keeps by her bed and watches as Momo fumbles for a condom, searching in her bedside dresser. She’s palming at her half-hard cock, trying to get back to full mast.
Nayeon’s phone is still playing Bach. She thinks about hanging up, but she figures nobody’s going to answer for a while. Puts herself on mute just in case. She doesn’t want to traumatize some poor underpaid call centre worker.
“I swear, I thought I had some,” Momo’s muttering, now down on her knees, peering into the bottom drawer. She’s butt-naked. Nayeon resists the urge to take a picture of her, just to make fun of her with it later.
She looks very silly. Nayeon squeezes her thighs together, errant fondness mixing with her very real horniness.
“Just put it in raw, god,” Nayeon says. “Just pull out. I’ll remind you.”
Momo looks surprised. “Raw?”
“Yeah, whatever. I want to get fucked. We’ll buy more condoms later.”
Nayeon’s not looking to get pregnant, exactly, but she’ll ponder on the consequences of her actions tomorrow, when she’s not looking to get railed. Momo looks a little doubtful but doesn’t object, climbing back onto the bed and mouthing a few fond kisses down Nayeon’s neck.
“God, you smell so good,” she groans, reservations disappearing as she sticks her nose in the underside of Nayeon’s jaw. Her sniffing is a little uncouth, but still hot. “Always sweeter closer to your heat. I’ve been thinking about it all day.”
“You’ve been horny all day?”
“I kept getting excited lifting weights. It was so bad.”
Nayeon pushes at the bangs falling across Momo’s forehead, suddenly unsure what to do, feeling touched in an incredibly horny way. “I would’ve sucked you off this morning, if you asked.”
“Nah, you had that pop quiz at midday, right?”
“…right,” Nayeon says, now feeling touched for real. “Right. Can you stick it in, yet, or?”
Momo nods, sighing deeply against Nayeon’s neck for a moment longer, savouring her smell, before adjusting the position of her hips, dragging the tip of her cock against Nayeon’s clit, pressing against her entrance. Nayeon moans at the sensation—whispers out a tiny please, and then Momo’s pushing the head in, trembling with the feel of it, Nayeon’s wet hot heat sinking down around her cock.
Nayeon’s got her legs as far open as possible, trying to accommodate for all of her. Momo’s big, and the adjustment is never easy, especially when she doesn’t have the added help of being in heat. Still, it’s so satisfying to take her—especially when Momo’s so eager to please, already rolling her hips, trying to stimulate as much of herself in Nayeon as possible. Momo tilts her head to the side—presses a thankful little kiss to the side of Nayeon’s mouth.
“Good afternoon, my name is Jisu, thank you for calling All Body Options Healthcare. So sorry for the delay in picking up your call. How can I be of assistance today ?”
Nayeon’s eyes go wide. Momo doesn’t seem to have heard—she’s starting to move her hips in earnest, pulling out until just her head remains inside, before quickly thrusting back in, bottoming all the way into the base of her cock. Even despite herself, Nayeon finds herself moaning at movement in, digging her nails into Momo’s shoulder blades.
“Hello? Is anybody there?”
“Momo—Momo,” Nayeon hisses, hitting Momo on the shoulder. “Ah—ah, I need to answer the phone.”
Momo slows down, eyes widening in a similar manner. “Do I—?”
“If you stop, I’ll fucking kill you,” Nayeon says, before snatching her phone off her beside table and turning it off mute. She hopes she doesn’t sound too out of it as she says, “Hi, this is, ah, Im Nayeon.”
“Hello, Ms. Im. How may I help you today?”
Momo looks utterly at a loss on what to do next, blinking down at Nayeon like she’s been left alone at a house party with nobody to talk to. Nayeon responds by clenching around her; the responding moan Momo lets out is loud, enough to make Nayeon laugh breathlessly and turn her head away.
“Ma'am?”
“Sorry, I’m just in the middle of something. I just wanted to—” Momo’s starting to move again, much less carefully than before—Nayeon returns her previous death grip on her shoulder, trying her best to meet her hips down at every thrust upwards. The slapping of their hips together is loud and wet. Nayeon hopes to god the insurance person can’t hear it. “To, to, um, check whether or not heat medication—ugh—is bulk billed through my level of cover.”
“Ma’am, are you alright? You sound like you’re in pain.”
“I’m—I’m just,” Nayeon yelps as Momo’s hands travel down to her hips, grip strong and bruising, controlling the rough pace she seems intent on setting. “Oh, fuck—Momo—sorry Jisu, I’ll have to call you back.”
Nayeon hangs up. Promptly throws her phone away.
“Was that good?” Momo grins, moving one hand to pinch carelessly at Nayeon’s clit.
“FUCK— don’t do that, actually, are you fucking crazy,” Nayeon yells, throwing an arm over her mouth to stifle some of the sounds she’s making, conscious of the thin dorm room walls. She’s making desperate choking noises, too shocked and delighted at Momo’s utter shamelessness. “I have to call them back to—tomorrow, fuck you.”
“Don’t,” Momo says. She thrusts all the way in and stays there, instead rocking into her with hard and shallow thrusts, pressing their bodies intimately closer. She buries her face into the side of Nayeon’s neck once more, tongue tasting, fangs nipping at skin, chest rising and falling in slow breaths, in and out. “Let me help you with your heat.”
“My classes—”
“I’ll pull all-nighters with you afterwards. We’ll figure it out. Let me help.”
And Nayeon—Nayeon’s getting the living daylights fucked out of her. She whimpers as Momo slips a hand between them, drawing soft circles around her clit, the pad of her finger rubbing teasingly. “Fuck, fuck, okay,” she moans, unable to come up with any reason to otherwise go against. “Just go harder, fuck.”
Momo sits up again—and just starts jackhammering in, thrusting so hard Nayeon starts sliding up against the bed, head knocking into the wall above her. The exertion of it is palpable—Momo’s grunting and heaving like a woman possessed, thin layer of sweat along her forehead, chest red, abdomen tight and clenching—and Nayeon can’t stop fucking moaning about it.
“Close,” Nayeon warns her, and Momo obediently moves her hand back to her clit, pressing hard. That does enough—Nayeon’s brain whites out, letting out a string of very loud and very obscene moans that will definitely get them noise complaints, back arching off the bed—and trembles and shakes as Momo chases her own orgasm, eyes squeezed shut, rutting into Nayeon like she’s never known decency.
Distantly, Nayeon thinks she smells beautiful. It’s not a word she would usually use to describe another person’s scent, but it’s what makes sense to her. Beautiful. Like fresh cut grass and peppermint candy and a home cooked meal.
Momo pumps in a few final sloppy thrusts before quickly slipping out, pressing the tip of her cock to Nayeon’s clit and cumming all over, shooting so much that some of it reaches her navel.
“Augh,” Momo groans, collapsing on top of Nayeon, because she’s a fucking loser.
“Yeah, yeah,” Nayeon says, and turns her head towards her so they can kiss.