I Don't Even Listen To Seventeen Like That But Man I'm Here. I'm Here And I'm Not Leaving.

i don't even listen to seventeen like that but man i'm here. i'm here and i'm not leaving.

Oh no, he’s hot (k.m.g)

The first time you drove your very trashed best friend home was because you had a crush on him. All the times you drove him home after that were because…well, his dad is sexy.

or the one where you have tension with your crush’s dad at four in the morning and maybe secretly fuck while said crush is asleep on the couch. 

ao3 | m.list | minors dni! | kindly leave feedback and reblog, i will kiss your forehead so fucking fast if you do. 

WORDCOUNT― 8.9k

PAIRING― dilf!mingyu x afab reader 

CONTENT― there is no daddy kink nor is there sub/dom dynamics involved with this fic, bottom(ish) mingyu, top(ish) reader, desperate smutty stuff,  mingyu is in his 40s, reader is in her early 20s (in other words, age gaps be damned, you’re both adults.)

OTHER CHARACTERS― chan is his son and ur just gonna have to deal with that for the sake of having no unnamed characters 

WARNINGS― Mingyu has an internal war over wanting you because his son also wants you. Another thing,  this is entirely consenting, but mingyu does mention to stop and/or wait at one point while clearly acting against his own words. 

NOTE― So uh, this fic is kind of a push and pull between morality and fucking because you’re horny. There’s some backhanded stuff about Chan but ill make it up to him in a future fic, i swear. Anyway, behold, the unedited dilf mingyu fic.

smut tags under cut:: 

― part two here!

Keep reading

this night together - chapter thirteen (j.yh + s.mg)

chapter thirteen: all the words you never said

chapter summary: someone's at the door, and everything changes.

warnings: this chapter is still a bit of a pain train, but don't worry we're coming out of that en route to happier times. in the mean time..... warnings for descriptions of violence, injury, and blood. mc has a panic attack / ptsd flashbacks, open descriptions about her trauma, fear, nightmares, etc.

notes: i'm still working on the next chapter, but hopefully that one won't take too long!

pairings: alpha!yunho x alpha!mingi x omega!reader

genre: smut, a/b/o/omegaverse, angst, fluff, romance, polyamory

word count: 8.8k

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You wake the next day to an insistent knocking sound, a fist pounding against the front door of their apartment. Yunho nearly falls out of bed at the noise, shaking his head hard to banish the cobwebs, but Mingi is on his feet in seconds. 

“What’s going on?” You murmur, rubbing a hand over your face and stretching your tired limbs. 

“I got it,” Mingi shakes his head at you, “just stay with Yunho,” 

A chill runs over your arms, and with no blankets to drag up over you, you push yourself off the bed and grab for Mingi’s hoodie, pulling it over your head quickly and relaxing into its warmth. 

“Coming!” Mingi calls gruffly towards the door, and the knocking stops immediately. 

You glance at Yunho and he shrugs, but his eyes quickly flick to the door, able to see all the way down the hall from this vantage point and he waits. 

You listen as Mingi turns over the deadbolt and unlocks the chain, swinging the door open, “Oh,” he says, “hyung,” 

“Is y/n here?” Seonghwa’s voice sounds a little strained, like he ran up three flights of stairs. 

Yunho looks like he’s about to say something, but you smooth your hair back behind your ears and head down the hall for the door. 

“Yeah, she’s,” Mingi says, but you move around his side and Seonghwa’s eyes shift to you. 

“There you are,” Seonghwa sighs, looking instantly relieved. 

“Was I supposed to be somewhere?” Your eyebrows draw together, mind still a little fuzzy with sleep. 

Mingi takes a step away, and Seonghwa pushes across the threshold, “You haven’t been answering your phone at all, and when you didn’t show up this morning to practice… I just got worried,” 

“Oh, Hwa,” You soften, “I’m fine,” 

He hesitates, eyes flicking over you, and then he pulls you into his arms, sighing heavily, “Sorry, of course you are,” 

You tuck your face into his warm chest, squeezing him tight, “I’m good, I haven’t looked at my phone though, I was a little out of it last night,” 

“Did you just get up?” He pulls back and looks you over. 

“Mhm,” 

“It’s one o’clock,” He says softly, “you can see why I was worried,” 

“It’s one?” You’re shocked at the time, that you were able to sleep for almost twelve hours and so were they, despite your brief and terrifying wake up in the middle.  

Seonghwa smiles, “Yeah, but it’s fine, as long as you’re okay,” 

There are so many pieces to what happened yesterday you still don’t have answers to, and you’re not sure if now is the right time, but with Seonghwa in front of you things finally feel better. He’s been there for you so much recently that it feels like seeing him now is the clear missing piece to you finally releasing the last bit of tension from last night. 

A beat stretches between you and you nod. 

Yunho clears his throat softly from next to you both, “I’ll put some coffee on,” 

You almost forgot they were right by your side, and as Yunho makes his way to the kitchen, Mingi exhales with another rough noise. 

“Hey,” Seonghwa finally properly greets him, looking away from your face, “sorry, how are you holding up?” 

“Just woke up,” Mingi shrugs, “not sure yet,” 

Seonghwa’s eyes flick to you briefly as he registers that you’ve all just gotten up for the day. 

“Mingi,” Yunho calls from the kitchen, “can you help me with something?” 

“With what?” Mingi doesn’t draw his eyes away from either of you. 

“Coffee,” Yunho replies. 

Mingi’s brow furrows and he doesn’t move but turns his head towards the kitchen, “What help do you need with the coffee?” 

“Just come here,” Yunho sounds frustrated and you cover your mouth to keep from laughing. 

“Fine,” Mingi grumbles, throwing one last look back at Seonghwa before heading towards the kitchen. 

With the room clear, you look back to Seonghwa, “Are you okay?” 

“Am I?” He looks confused.

  “I don’t really know what happened yesterday,” You explain, “I barely saw you after everything, but Yunho said you and San took care of things, and I saw blood,” 

“Mm,” He nods, but doesn’t offer anything else. 

“What does that mean?” You press him. 

His eyes flick away and he shrugs, “It means San and I took care of it until the cops came.” 

“Hwa,” You shake your head. 

“Look,” He bites his lip and runs a hand through his dark hair, “can we sit down for a minute? I need to talk to you,” 

“Is everything okay?” 

“I’m not sure,” He admits, “let’s just… can we sit?” 

“Yeah,” You step back, gesturing for him to come further into the apartment and he takes a seat on one side of the sectional, gingerly on the edge with his hands clasped in front of him. Your eyes zero in on the bandages immediately. 

“Seonghwa!” You reach for him immediately, taking his hands in yours.

“Oh,” He takes his hands back and flexes them, “I’m fine, see?” 

“What happened?” Your voice raises a little, and Mingi appears in the doorway of the kitchen, one eyebrow raised. 

“This is what I wanted to talk to you about,” He sighs. 

“Your hands?” 

“Yeah,” Seonghwa pulls them further away from you and shakes his head, “I talked to the police last night and there’s something you need to know,” 

“The police?” You straighten up. 

“Mhm,” Seonghwa’s hand rubs over the back of his damaged knuckles, “they interviewed all of us, I think,” 

“I talked to them at the hospital,” You nod. 

“Were they alright with you?” Seonghwa asks, eyes flicking to yours. 

“Mostly,” You nod, “some of their questions were a little,” you search for the right word. 

“Pointed?” Seonghwa fills in. 

“Exactly,” You cross your arms unconsciously, remembering the way the detective talked to you, “they kept wanting to know about my cycle,” 

“They asked you that?” Seonghwa’s voice spikes a little. 

You nod, “I think it was pretty clear what they were trying to ask considering he said he was rutting,” 

Seonghwa’s jaw tightens as he exhales, “I’m so sorry,” 

“It’s alright,” You know it isn’t, but there isn’t anything to be done, “they took my blood, they’ll see I’m not even in pre-heat, it was nothing like that,” 

“We know that,” Seonghwa reaches across to brush his hand over yours, “you know that right?” 

“Of course I do,” 

“And even if you had been,” His hand flexes around yours, tightening and relaxing. 

“I know,” You assure him again, communicating as much as you can with a look. 

“Okay,” He sighs, “okay, good.” 

He pulls his hand back, and suddenly his face looks familiar. His expression so like that day before the tour in the faraway cafe. He’s working himself up to telling you something, and you can see that he’s scared. 

“Seonghwa, what is it?” You push a little, “You can tell me anything,” 

He presses his lips together before he says, “Right, so the police,” 

Mingi and Yunho choose this moment to file back into the room, both carrying two coffees each and Mingi sets yours down in front of you made up just how you like it before Yunho offers Seonghwa a cup. He accepts it, but lets it sit on the coffee table untouched while they get settled on the opposite side of the couch. 

“Just tell me,” You nod, bracing yourself a little. 

Seonghwa looks down, eyes on the floor while he gathers himself and his thoughts and then finally says, “I might have hurt your case,” 

“My case?” The words don’t quite make sense. 

“Going after him like I did,” He says simply, eyes still downcast. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” You shift closer to him on the couch, reaching out but not quite touching him, “what happened?” 

“You didn’t tell her?” Seonghwa looks up but past you, straight at Yunho. 

“What?” You look between them, nothing making sense at all. 

“You weren’t here,” Yunho insists, “she was upset last night, I was going to tell her this morning.” 

“Can you both stop talking around me and just say it?” Your voice takes a higher pitch, “I’m not a child.” 

“I’m sorry,” Seonghwa shakes his head, reaching for you and taking your hands folded in his own, “let me start over,” 

“Please,” 

“Minseok,” He says, the name a little uncomfortable in his mouth, “We got him into the hall and when I realized what happened, what he almost did to you,” he flexes his hand again and shakes his head, “I lost it a little,” 

“Hwa,” You murmur. 

“The police said because he had already been detained and it was no longer in defense or de-escalation it could hurt your ability to have him fully charged,” Seonghwa says in a breath, rubbing a hand over his eyes, “it’ll be possible for him to press his own charges if he wants, and I have reason to believe he’s getting those charges filed today,” 

“That’s insane,” You straighten up, “You were just helping me,” 

“No,” Seonghwa finally meets your eyes, “they were helping. I was… kicking the shit out of an defenseless man,” 

You open your mouth to say something but Mingi cuts in easily, “That’s not what I saw.” 

“What?” Seonghwa’s head snaps to the side. 

Mingi shrugs, “If you hurt your case then so did I, we all probably did, but if he knows what’s good for him he’ll take the firing on the chin and move on without dragging this to court.” 

“You fired him?” Your eyebrows raise. 

Yunho’s brows furrow, “Of course he’s fired, he’s not getting within a mile of you ever again,” 

Relief floods you and you nod, shifting your eyes back to Seonghwa, “How do you know he’s filing?” 

“Woo went to school with someone who works at the hospital in the emergency unit,” Seonghwa explains, “he called this morning just to find out Minseok’s discharge status so we knew when he’d be out,” 

That’s a thought that hasn’t occurred to you yet, and you take a steadying breath. 

“He’s going to be in for a little while,” Seonghwa assures you, “a week or two at least, but he did tell us that there were police there interviewing him. His family was also present, and it seems as though they have money and more to say,” 

“Entitled little prick,” Mingi curses. 

Seonghwa’s lip quirks up in a brief smile, but then he nods, “There’s not a scratch on any of us except him,” he points out, “it doesn’t look good,” 

You shift closer, “What did you do to him?” 

“I don’t,” He shakes his head, eyes softening, “I just lost it, San pulled me off him,” 

“Seonghwa,” You murmur. 

“He’s got broken ribs,” Seonghwa swallows hard, “and I think I broke his jaw,” 

“Jesus,” You breathe. 

“I wish I had,” Yunho says calmly, “he deserved it.” 

“Not if he can get away with what he did,” Seonghwa returns his hands to yours, “I’m so sorry,” 

“Hwa,” You shake your head, moving even closer on the sofa until you’re side to side, knees touching, “you have nothing to apologize for. I’m so grateful you were there,” 

His eyes go a little watery, and he cups your cheek, “When I think about the fact that I almost left early,” 

“When have you ever left early?” You give him a soft smile. 

“Seriously,” He shakes his head and leans closer, “I keep thinking about what would have happened if you were there alone, I keep seeing it,” 

“Stop, Hwa, please,” You squeeze his hand, “I’m okay, you were all still there,” 

“Yeah,” He breathes, but you can hear the tenor of lingering fear in his voice. He leans forward, pressing his lips to your forehead and exhaling over your skin. 

You let your eyes slip closed, and for a brief moment you forget about the other two men in the room with you, watching over the moment of intimacy with their breath caught in their chests. 

Seonghwa leans back a moment later, eyes clear now, and finally looks you over. He pushes your hair to the side and makes a face at the sight of your swollen, bruised gland, “What’s this?” 

“Nothing,” You shake your head, telling him clearly with your eyes not to pry. 

“Don’t tell me that’s nothing,” He says softly. 

“I promise,” You squeeze his hand, “I’m okay,” 

He swallows and then nods once before jerking his head towards Mingi and Yunho, “Did they take care of you okay?” 

“Yes, Seonghwa,” You sigh. 

You look to them, expecting to see some kind of comedic expression, or bristling annoyance at Seonghwa’s insistent checking, but that’s not what you see at all. Yunho looks like all the air has been let out of him, his eyes soft and unfocused. Mingi’s doing his best to seem relaxed and casual, but you know him well enough to know that he’s anything but, his tightly clenched hands telling you everything. 

“Hmm,” Seonghwa’s soft hum draws your eyes back to his, “and is there anything you need?” 

“I don’t know,” You confess, “is it silly to say I’m still tired?” 

“No,” Seonghwa brushes his hand over your hair again, tucking your hair back to where it was a moment ago, “nothing you wanted would be silly right now.” 

“Is everyone else alright?” You murmur. 

“They are,” He squeezes your hand, “you just focus on you.” 

You manage a nod, and you want to look back to Yunho and Mingi and see why they’re so silent, but Seonghwa continues. 

“You don’t have to be okay,” Seonghwa says softly, “but are you?” 

You know what he’s asking with his eyes, if being here with them is too much, if you’re able to get what you need in the midst of all the emotional circles you had been dealing with before the studio last night. You love him for it, but you nod, “I am, honestly,” 

“Then if you’re okay,” Seonghwa smiles a little, “I’ll leave you be,”

“I’m okay,” You glance back to Yunho and Mingi, and their eyes are holding on to anything but you and Seonghwa. 

“I just needed to see you and make sure, and to talk to you about things,” Seonghwa explains, pushing himself up to stand, “I don’t know what will happen, but I’ll do whatever I can to make sure it doesn’t affect you,” 

You stand with him and shake your head again, “Whatever happens with Minseok, we’ll deal with it together. Don’t put that on yourself, please,” 

He nods, and then you pull him into a hug, a quick squeeze before he steps away. 

“That’s it?” Mingi’s voice is incredulous as he stands up, “You’re leaving her?” 

You turn, fully confused by the sudden bubbling anger in Mingi, “What?” 

“I mean,” Seonghwa looks just as confused, “it seems like you’ve got things covered?” 

“Covered?” Mingi’s voice tightens. 

“Mingi,” Yunho tugs at his friend’s arm, “sit down,” 

“You’re seriously going?” Mingi repeats. 

The tension in the room is bizarre, the comforting moment you had with your friend completely undercut and you keep looking to Yunho for clarity but he just won’t look you in the eye, his eyes are set on Mingi. 

“I’m seriously confused,” Seonghwa looks between you and them, “y/n?” 

Your mouth is open, nothing really making sense for how quick to anger Mingi is in this moment, especially now, and all you can do is look to Mingi for answers, but you find little in his fierce gaze. 

“I’m just saying,” Mingi’s jaw sets hard, “if something like this happened to my girlfriend I wouldn’t be so quick for the door,” 

“My what?” Seonghwa glances down at you. 

The words don’t make sense, “I have no idea,” you manage, “what are you talking about?” 

“What are you talking about?” Mingi takes a half step back, eyes flicking between you. 

There’s a long beat of silence, and finally, finally, someone speaks. 

“You’re not together,” Yunho says, not a question but a realization. 

Pins slot into place, every little moment over the past few months coming into perfect clarity. You answer him anyways, “No, we’re not,” 

“Were you?” He clarifies. 

“Not like that,” You shake your head. 

“Oh,” Mingi’s hands relax, talking a half step backwards as the realization hits him. 

“You thought we were dating?” Seonghwa finally says, gesturing between the two of you. 

“Well,” Mingi clears his throat, “yeah,” 

“We’re not,” You confirm again and Yunho grins. Your stomach flips. 

“I really thought…” Yunho trails off, shaking his head. 

“Why would I have come home with you last night if he and I are together?” You trail off. 

“Yesterday was insane,” Mingi reasons, “I would have taken you anywhere you wanted to go if it made you feel better, I wasn’t questioning it,” 

“Oh,” You soften at that.

“But I guess I was wrong,” Mingi looks a little sheepish when he looks at Seonghwa. 

“Yeah,” Seonghwa squeezes your hand and then drops it, “y/n is… great, wonderful even, but it was never like that. I’m in love with someone else.” 

Your heart twists, knowing exactly what he means. 

“Fuck,” Mingi rubs the back of his neck, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to act like such an ass,” 

“No, no,” Seonghwa waves him off, “I get it,” 

“But,” Yunho looks up, and his eyes on yours freezes you to the spot, “I thought you said you had something to tell us?”

“And you thought it was that I’m dating Seonghwa?” 

“I thought you were trying to let us down easy,” He blurts out.

“No, that wasn’t…” You can’t fight the smile off your face now, “that’s not it at all,” 

His lips part, realization filling his features, “God, we’re idiots,” 

“Kind of,” 

“I should have just asked you on tour,” Mingi all but blushes and it’s quite possibly the first time you’ve ever seen him be so embarrassed.  

The moment is so absurd, so tangibly comical after last night and you can’t help but laugh again, “You thought I was that excited to see you after three months just to tell you that I’m dating one of your best friends?” 

“When you say it like that,” Yunho trails off. 

“Wow,” You clap a hand over your lips, “Woo is going to have a field day,” 

Seonghwa snorts softly, but stays quiet. 

“So if you’re not together, and weren’t together,” Mingi starts, lights going off in his brain as he rewrites all the things he thought he knew, his eyes find yours and hold steady. 

Butterflies start in your stomach, you feel it in the air like something’s about to shift under your feet and you should be bracing yourself. This is not the moment you imagined, not in the slightest, but there’s something steady about the way he’s looking at you and you want to reach out and grab onto it. 

Seonghwa softly clears his throat and takes a step towards the door, “I should go,” he says, “you look like you need some space,” 

You do, but you spin quick and catch his hand as he turns, “Wait, Hwa,” 

He pauses, glancing up over your shoulder at them before looking down to you again. 

“I have to thank you before you go,” You squeeze his hand, “I’m… I don’t know what else to say, but I,”

“Come here,” Seonghwa tucks you into his chest, hugging you close, “I’d do it again in a minute,” 

“I know,” 

“We may not be dating,” He says, and you can practically see the smile on his mouth, “but you’re one of my best friends and I’d do anything for you, okay?” 

“Okay,” You squeeze him tighter. 

He sighs, letting you go and pressing a quick, chaste kiss to your cheek, “Call me if you need me, okay?” 

“I will,” You nod. 

“And text Wooyoung back,” He says, almost an afterthought, “he was flipping out this morning,” 

“Tell him I’m fine,” You say, “I’ll message him later,” 

“I’m here for anything,” He reiterates, “and I’ll let everyone know you’re doing alright,” 

“Thank you, Seonghwa, really,” 

He nods, “I’ll let myself out,” he says quietly, and then he’s gone, the door clicking shut behind him. 

You don’t quite know what’s about to happen when you turn around but the butterflies in your stomach triple. Silence stretches between the three of you, and you know that the conversation you wanted carefully planned is happening now whether you’re emotionally prepared for it or not, no matter what happened yesterday. 

You turn back to them and the words slip out as you process everything out loud, “I don’t understand why you wouldn’t just ask me,”  

“You asked us not to,” Yunho says quietly, “and after what happened before…” 

“Yun,” You start, looking between them, but he presses forwards. 

“We didn’t listen to you then,” Yunho says, “I wasn’t going to fuck this up again,” 

Mingi’s quiet, his eyes downcast as he thinks, and your stomach turns into anxious knots. 

“Maybe this isn’t the time,” You murmur, and you’re about to say more but Mingi cuts you off. 

“No, please,” Mingi’s head snaps up, “not this time, this time we need to talk.” 

“Okay,” You breathe. 

“I should have said it in the letter,” Mingi clears his throat and finally holds your gaze for longer than a second, “maybe that would have made this easier, but, I’ll say it now.”

“Mingi,” 

“I love you,” He says, letting the words live in the space between you for just a moment before he continues, “I’ve loved you for a long time. You can tell me no, you can go if you want to, but we’ve spent so long not saying anything to each other, so I have to say this.” 

“You love me,” Your stomach flutters, heart pounding in your chest. 

“Yes,” Mingi nods, no hesitation or wavering, matter of fact, one of the things you’ve always loved about him. 

The air feels a little thinner in the room, like the altitude has changed, and you swallow thickly. You need to get your emotions under control, but Yunho’s stayed so quiet you don’t know what to think. When you glance at him, your chest aches. He’s watching you carefully, and you can see the nervous energy in him, the way his hands fidget and clench. 

“Yunho,” You manage. 

“You know how I feel,” He says, “by now… I know you know,” 

“No,” You can’t accept it and you shake your head, “tell me for real.”

Yunho drags a hand over his face and back through his hair, and then finally he meets your eyes again, “I’m,” his voice wavers slightly, “sweetheart, I’m still so in love with you.” 

“Still?” You hitch on the word. 

“It’s been a long time for me too,” He nods.

  You take in their words, stepping back, pacing a little as you process. You don’t really know where you’re going, you just need to move, to take some of the pressure of their eyes off, and you take deep breaths as you do. You can feel their tension, their fear that you’ll bolt again but strangely this time you don’t need to run. You just need a minute. 

“And yesterday,” You slow to a stop from your position behind their couch, “this isn’t some… reaction to what Minseok did, it’s not,” 

“When I wrote you that letter,” Mingi interrupts your anxieties, “we hadn’t seen each other in weeks. I could have told you I loved you then, this has nothing to do with him. This has to do with us, the three of us.” 

Your mind flicks back to your confession to Wooyoung months ago, the way he held you as you cried buckets of tears over them. The sickening realization that your heat with them did mean something, and you had been fighting your own heart ever since. You want to love them now so badly it tugs at your insides, flooding your eyes again with tears. 

“Don’t cry,” Yunho’s on his feet the minute he sees your eyes clouding over, “the last thing we want to do is make you cry after everything,” 

“It’s fine,” You manage, hastily wiping tears away before they have chance to really wet your cheeks, “it’s just been a very long two days,” 

“We’ll talk about this later,” Yunho reaches for you, “come here,” 

You take a step back from him and shake your head, swallowing back your emotions and trying to figure out how in the world you’re going to articulate this. 

He stops dead, and you watch Mingi’s face fall. 

“Our dinner,” You start off, “I had a lot I wanted to say to you both, and after yesterday, I don’t know my head is all twisted up, I’m not going to do this right,” 

“Maybe you’re right, we don’t have to do this now,” Mingi shakes his head, and you realize now that he thinks you’re rejecting them, once and for all. 

“Mingi, stop,” You cut him off, “I need you to let me get this out,” 

He stays silent. 

“We’ve been dealing with this for so long,” You start, “there’s been a lot of things said, and I guess unsaid too,” 

Yunho nods but keeps any thoughts to himself while you parse through your words. 

“I tried for a really long time to move on,” You manage, “and so much has happened but yesterday was,” you shake your head, trying to keep the strain out of your voice and get this out, “you know what it was. But you were both there for me and you took care of me, and I don’t have the words to thank you for something like that.”

“You don’t,” Yunho starts but you shake your head and hold out a hand to stop his words. 

You take a deep breath, and then you take the leap, “I was going to apologize to you. This thing between us… I broke it too. I was angry that night at the studio, and I wish I could take so much of it back. I was hurt, but I said things that I’m so, so sorry for.”

“I was planning on telling you that first,” You continue, “and then I was planning on telling you that while you were gone, I thought about you everyday. I thought about us and what you mean to me, about what I wanted, and I need to tell you first that I lied. That weekend, my heat, it meant more to me than I ever understood. It wasn’t just sex, and I’m sorry I said it, I’m sorry for so much,” 

“y/n,” Yunho says softly, but you shake your head. 

“I’m,” The words bubble up and lodge right in your throat. It should be easy, you love them. They said it first, it should roll right off your tongue, but it just doesn’t. You take a tight, hard swallow and try again, “I don’t, what I’m trying to say is that,” 

“Hey, hey,” Mingi’s close the minute he sees you floundering, cupping your cheeks and hushing your panicked little breaths, “you don’t have to say anything, especially not right now.” 

“But,” Your throat feels raw, “but I don’t want,” 

“Shh, shh,” He shakes his head, smoothing his thumb across your cheekbone, “slow down, go easy,” 

It all feels like it’s opening inside you, the tense knot from yesterday, your feelings for them wrapped up inside it, the way your omega keeps clinging to them as yours. The way you almost lost them. Tears spill over your cheeks again and you choke out a weak cry, “I’m sorry,” 

Mingi shifts forwards, scooping you up in his arms to cradle you against his chest just like yesterday, “You have nothing to be sorry for, nothing at all.” 

“I want to tell you,” You confess into his shoulder, “I have to tell you,” 

“Baby, please,” Mingi soothes, “just take a deep breath,”

“Mingi,” Yunho murmurs low, having moved closer to the two of you, “let’s sit, come here,” 

You keep your head pressed against his skin, your body feeling ragged and exhausted, memories from yesterday flooding up and the scent of your alphas making you dizzy, and you think if you cry any more it might make you sick but you just don’t know how to stop. 

Mingi moves with you, settling down onto the couch and you can hear Yunho shifting around the room, but you don’t know what he’s doing until a familiar soft blanket wraps around your body. 

“Breathe, baby,” Mingi prompts you again, “we’re right here.” 

“Yunho?” You blink hard as you lift your head from Mingi’s neck, reaching to search for him. 

“Right here,” Yunho is tucked close to you and Mingi, and he takes your hand in his, drawing your eyes to his, “I’m right here with you,” 

“I’m sorry,” You stammer, tears finally subsiding just enough, “I d-don’t know what’s wrong,” 

It feels so familiar, this moment, like the overloading torrent of emotion that came after your broken heat so many months ago, only this time the sick pit in your stomach is worse. The stakes feel so much higher, and the echo of hands on your hips and teeth at your throat keep flickering through your mind. 

“I think you’re having a panic attack,” Yunho squeezes your hand, sliding closer still and brushing his hand over the back of your head, “but it will pass, and we’re not going anywhere,” 

“But I need to explain,” Your throat feels like it’s closing. 

“You don’t,” Mingi eases you back from his chest so that you’re perched on his lap, and he guides your face up to his so he can meet your eyes, “right now you just need to breathe,” 

He’s right, the hysteria working its way through your system will only grow unless you start to get your arms around it. You grip Yunho’s hand tighter and start to try and regulate your breath, letting your eyes slip closed as you focus, the little shuddering starts melting into deeper and steadier inhales and exhales the longer you work at it. 

You start to focus on things you can feel in your mind, things you know are real. Mingi’s warm body under yours, the cool metal of Yunho’s ring against your finger, a weighty hand on your right hip, the distant sound of a voice in the apartment next door. You’re home, you’re safe. 

When your eyes open they’re not looking at you but looking at each other, worried little creases in their brows as they communicate silently with their eyes. 

“Hey,” Your voice is small when you first speak, weak from exhaustion. 

“Hey,” Yunho smiles when he sees your eyes open, squeezing your hand again. 

“Feeling a little better?” Mingi murmurs, hand stroking your back. 

You shrug and wet your lips, “Not really,” 

“Then I think we should talk about this another time,” Mingi maintains, “do you want to try and get some more sleep, or,”

You shake your head and press a palm to the center of his chest, “No, I need to say this,” 

“It can wait,” 

“Not for me,” You insist, “I’ll just keep thinking about it,” 

“Alright,” Yunho smooths your hair over your shoulder and keeps a steady palm against your back. 

With a deep breath you steady your mind, get your words right, and then finally try again. “I don’t want the first time I tell you I love you to be mixed up in everything that happened yesterday. Everything feels so confusing and overwhelming because of what happened, but I don’t,” Your fingers knot tighter in Mingi’s shirt, “I can’t lose you again, so I just need you to know what I wanted to tell you on Saturday,” 

Yunho’s hand stills on your back, and Mingi’s eyes flick down. 

Nerves flood you, terrify you to your core, and you flounder again, “I know I should be able to get it together and to say it like you deserve, but I just need a little time, I don’t want to be thinking about him or feeling him when I think about us.” 

Yunho shifts forwards, his lips connecting with your forehead softly as he holds you to him, and he lets the warmth of his skin linger on yours. A sharp, wet noise draws your eyes back up and disconnects you and you realize Mingi’s crying, tears tracking down his cheeks and his eyes shining. 

“Mingi,” You reach for him, disconnecting Yunho as you cup Mingi’s cheeks, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I just need a little time,”

He shakes his head, bringing his hands up to hold yours, “It’s not that, I swear to god, it’s not that.” 

“Then,” 

“I could fucking kill him, I really could,” The edge in his voice sends a chill up your back, and you watch as he swallows hard and takes a deep breath to get his own tears under control. 

“Hey, come on,” You try again, “I’m fine, look at me,” 

“You’re not fine,” Yunho shakes his head, “you just said so,” 

Mingi nods, his eyes opening. 

“But I don’t want you to be upset,” You smooth the tears away from Mingi’s cheeks. 

“I’m not upset because of you,” Mingi turns his face, pressing a kiss to your palm, “I’m upset because someone almost took you from us,” 

The air in the room feels thin at the truth of it, and Yunho looks down at his words, his hand tightening on your hip. 

Mingi curls his hands around yours and draws them away from his cheeks, entwining your fingers and resting your combined hands on his chest, “He almost took you from yourself,” he says softly, “that’s why I’m upset.”

“He didn’t,” You soothe him, “I’m right here,” 

“You don’t have to make us feel better right now,” Yunho shakes his head, finally looking up, “You should feel whatever you want, and if you need time, we can give that to you.”  

Mingi nods, “He’s right, I’m angry, but that’s not for you to fix.” 

“We don’t need anything right now,” Yunho murmurs, his hand stroking up and down the length of your back slowly, “just tell us if we’re not doing something you need,” 

“That’s not fair,” You smile softly, “you went through something too,” 

Mingi hums, disconnecting your hands so he can rub any evidence of his tears away before he sighs, “Remember when I told you it was our job to provide for you?” 

You remember how those words made you feel then, so safe in a moment of such confusion and emotion. Your shoulders drop, muscles relaxing as you try this time to listen to him, and you nod at his words. 

“It’s our job always,” His hands return to yours, “and right now you have to trust us to hear you and do better by you,” 

“But I made mistakes too,” You start to interject but he shakes his head. 

“Babe,” He sighs, “none of it matters, not anymore.” 

You were supposed to do this differently, to tell them your story and how you felt, and get all the things they didn’t know on the table, you were supposed to let them make an informed choice, but your voice just won’t come the way you need it to, “I just don’t want to lose you,”  

“You won’t,” Yunho says firmly, “why do you think that’s going to happen?” 

“There’s more to tell you,” You confess, “and last time I should have been honest, but I wasn’t and look where that got us,” 

“I don’t think there’s anything you could tell me now that would make me not love you,” Yunho says, smoothing his thumb over your cheekbone, “and we’re being honest now, that’s enough for me.” 

“How do you know that?” You scrub away tears that threaten to fall.

  “Because I missed you everyday,” He says simply, “and because I didn’t feel home again until I saw you at the party, and yesterday when I thought you were hurt I couldn’t breathe. I’m not going anywhere this time, all I want is us. All three of us.” 

“Me too,” Mingi clears his throat to get rid of the resurgence of emotion, “it feels right when it’s us, I’m not willing to lose that.” 

Your shoulders drop, all the tension you’ve been carrying for months falling away. They love you, they want you, even still. You collapse against them, pulling them both tight to you and resting on their touching shoulders. “Are you sure you can wait?” You whisper into Mingi’s sleeve. 

“Yes,” Yunho reiterates, “of course we can,” 

You nod against them, letting their arms fold around you and keep you tucked close. 

Mingi strokes your hair, his wide palm cradling the back of your head when he asks, “Does it bother you if we say it? If we tell you how we feel? Or should we give you some time?” 

“You can always tell me,” You can’t go backwards now, “I’m done not telling each other things,” 

Mingi presses his lips to your head, “Then I really fucking love you,” he murmurs soft in your ear, “and I don’t know what we’re doing, but as long as we’re together we’re going to be okay.”

Tears well in your eyes, the truth of is words cocooning around you, “I believe you,” 

The day takes time to pass, and short of Mingi fixing you something to eat for dinner, you all spend it cuddled close on the couch together. Movies play on the television, fingers card softly through your hair, and no one talks anymore about what happened or what it all means. 

Your original plan on Saturday would have been so much easier than this, you wouldn’t feel flayed open and raw and terrified to close your eyes or step into a room where you can’t see them in your eyeline, but you won’t lie and say you aren’t still grateful to be here and in their arms. You’re so sick of taking the hard road to get to them, but maybe together it can be different. 

Later, at night and in bed again, you sink into that feeling of gratitude. You missed this, the feeling of them next to you, the weight of their hands and the warmth of their chests. Any fear or hesitation you might have felt about your future with these two alphas is dissipating with every passing minute. They made mistakes and so did you, but when things got hard, really and truly hard, they’ve been everything. 

From your position curled against Mingi, you stretch and press a warm kiss to his neck, taking a comforting inhale of his rich scent, letting it work through your body and keep you warm. He sighs pleasantly at the feeling, and you wriggle up in their combined hold until you can find Mingi’s lips. 

He’s hesitant at first, letting you set the pace this time. His mouth is comfortingly familiar and you ease into each other, sharing a quiet breath and nuzzling his nose between gentle close lipped kisses. He sighs against you, his hand tightening on your side, and you flash back in your mind to the last kiss with him in the studio room. 

Flickers of the studio make your pulse quicken and your palms clammy, and you break your lips away from Mingi for a second of fresh air and to stop the sudden nerves sparking up the back of your brain. 

Twisting in their arms you turn to face Yunho, keeping Mingi still close at your back while you find Yunho’s cheek and tug him down to your mouth. He makes a soft, surprised noise, and you realize that you’ve never kissed him outside of your heat before. He’s so warm, so instantly responsive to your touch and you pull him a little closer still, letting your legs tangle together under the sheet. 

“Baby,” He whispers, fingers running over your hip and down your thigh. 

Your lips part, his tongue catching on yours as it dips into your mouth, deepening the kiss and your heart picks up again. You shift your hand, fingers catching under the edge of his t-shirt, just a little more skin on precious skin. Mingi’s hand drops from your hip to your stomach as he edges closer behind you, his wide palm stretching across the expanse of your belly. You shiver, a breathy sound from your lips you can’t catch. 

Yunho hums softly, pleasantly, kissing along your jaw the way he knows you love. 

You let your eyes slip closed, the sensation of them filling every space around you. 

Yunho kisses to the hollow of your ear and then travels lower, shifting to press his lips over the smooth column of your throat, but you feel the tense knot form again in the pit of your stomach. You feel hands on your hips where they shouldn’t be, you see a snapshot of your face in the practice room mirror, the ghost of a tug of your hair. 

At the first soft touch of Yunho’s tongue against your tender gland you jerk back and shake your head, eyes fluttering open, “I can’t, I’m sorry I can’t,” 

He pulls away immediately, hands off you as you press back into Mingi’s chest, “That’s okay,” 

Mingi wraps his arms around you to soothe you, “Your heart’s racing,” he murmurs, “babe, you’re safe, you’re with us,” 

“I know,” You nod, taking a deep steadying breath. 

Yunho cups your cheek, “I didn’t mean to scare you,” 

“It’s not you,” You assure him, “I just think I need some time before we do anything again,” 

He nods, “Anything you want,” 

“I just,” You try to explain, “for a second I thought I was back in the studio,” 

“You’re not,” Mingi reminds you, “and you don’t ever even have to go back in that room if you don’t want to,” 

“That’s not very practical,” You smile, kissing his forearm where his arm crosses over your chest as your racing pulse starts to slow. 

“I’m being serious,” He says. 

“I know you are,” You nod, “but I’m alright, I just think I need a few days away.” 

“That’s a good idea,” Yunho eases closer now that he can sense your heightened spike of panic is calming, “I’ll join you.” 

“Same,” Mingi rests his head on yours. 

“You don’t have to skip work for me,” 

“Honestly,” Yunho says, “it would make me feel better to stay with you, I’d be useless at the studio right now,” 

Mingi nods in quiet agreement. 

“Can I be honest?” You murmur in the dark. 

“Always,” Yunho nods. 

You find Yunho’s hand to hold and confess a little more to them, “I want you to stay, I feel like you’re both the only thing keeping me present right now, I keep worrying that I’ll slip back there,”

Mingi shifts behind you so he can properly see your face in the deep blue light, “Into headspace?” 

You nod, the echo of it in your mind, “It was so awful,” 

“I don’t think that can happen,” Mingi shakes his head, “you can’t just fall into it without someone putting you there.” 

You remember the distinct way you felt pulled under, the sudden tug downwards and the way you felt so insulated and trapped inside your own mind. You swallow hard and meet his eyes, “I’ve heard of it happening, omegas getting stuck, I don’t want to feel that ever again, I can’t feel that ever again,” 

“Hey, hey,” Yunho presses his hand over your heart and strokes your gland softly with the pad of his thumb, “that’s not going to happen,”

“He’s right,” Mingi kisses your forehead softly, “stories like that are rare, those omegas went through years of abuse and that’s awful, but it’s not you. No one is ever, ever, getting the chance to do that to you again.” 

“No one,” Yunho reiterates, still soothing your sore gland, “not us, not anyone.” 

“I just,” You sigh, “I keep feeling it when I close my eyes,” 

Yunho reaches out and brushes back your hair, his fingers smoothing against your temple, “Is that what your nightmare was about?” 

You nod. 

“You were there again?” He clarifies. 

“Yeah,” 

“What was it like?” Mingi murmurs his question, keeping it soft. Not a demand or a need, but an opening. Yunho’s eyes flick away from yours to his, but he waits to see if you’ll answer. 

Your mouth feels a little dry and you wet your lips as you think about how to describe it. You let their hands tether you as your eyes slip closed, “You know that feeling when your ears are full of water? The way everything sounds like you’re hearing it through a wall?” 

“Mhm,” Mingi murmurs. 

“It’s like that,” You explain, “like I was at the bottom of a lake or a pool and I knew something was happening around me, but I couldn’t tell what.”

“Do you remember anything?” Yunho asks. 

You shake your head, “Yes and no,” but you can see it in your minds eye, “I remember you both looked so scared and I remember wanting to ask you what was wrong, but I couldn’t,” 

They’re quiet now, only the thready sounds of their breath and yours as they listen. 

“He told me not to move,” You explain, “and to keep my mouth shut,” 

Mingi’s hand finds yours in the dark. 

“He said, ‘don’t move an inch’,” You feel Minseok’s words against your throat, the final push that sent you over the edge, “and I couldn’t, even when you were there and not him,” 

His thumb brushes over the back of your hand. 

“I remember you telling me to come up,” You continue, “I’ve never heard you sound like that before,” 

“You’ll never hear me sound like that again,” He says, his voice tight, “I just didn’t know what else to do,” 

“It worked,” You let your eyes open again, “that’s all that matters.” 

“Maybe,” He murmurs, and even though he doesn’t say more you can tell that he’s still a little shaken about using his own alpha tone on you at that moment. 

Yunho shifts in the covers, “Jagiya,” he says, “I think you should talk to someone about this,” 

“I’ll be alright,” You shake your head, “it’s just fresh and I need more sleep,” 

“Just think about it,” he says, “you can always talk to us, always, but we’re not professionals,” 

He’s not wrong, but the idea of opening up more than you already have makes something twist a little in your gut. You nod anyways, “I’ll think about it,” 

They stay quiet for a little while, and you take a minute to come back to your senses completely after letting the idea and the feeling of headspace occupy your mind for even just a few minutes. When you do, you realize that while Mingi is still cuddled up to your back, there’s at least a foot of space between you and Yunho, despite the way his long arms afford him the ability to still stroke your hair from this angle. 

“Come back over here,” You say suddenly, tugging on his t-shirt. 

“You sure?” He checks as he eases across the mattress. 

“Mhm,” You nod, letting his arms settle around you too. 

Confessions bubble up in your chest, the sudden need to keep being honest flooding you. 

In the dark, things are always easier. 

“I need to tell you something,” You murmur into Yunho’s shoulder. 

“Anything,” Mingi says quickly, his body still behind yours. 

You say it as plainly as you can, “My last heat was more complicated than I told you before,” 

“Okay,” Yunho murmurs, his voice a little hesitant as he waits for you to say more. 

“I called Seonghwa, but he was with Wooyoung at the time,” You explain, “and Woo has a whole little heat sanctuary at his apartment, so I spent my heat there with them,” 

“Is that what you’ve been so scared to tell us?” Mingi murmurs, his breath tickling your cheek. 

“San came to find his friends because they weren’t answering their phones,” You just have to get it all out, “but he stayed, I asked him to stay too.” 

“Oh,” Yunho trails off for a moment and Mingi’s steady breath stops. 

You brace yourself for the worst of it, your eyes closing tight, but then Yunho says, “San and Seonghwa usually spend Wooyoung’s heats together, right?” 

“Yeah,” Your eyes open again in the darkness. 

“And they took care of you okay?” He asks. 

“They did,” 

“And you…” Yunho struggles to find the right words, “you wanted everything? They didn’t push you or,”

“No,” You assure him, “it was all my choice,”

“Okay,” 

“You’re not angry?” You expected more of a fight, especially after how betrayed they looked after Seonghwa. 

Mingi sighs and you feel his head shake against yours, “You’re here with us now,” he says, “and you said it back then, we weren’t dating, no one cheated,”

“Oh,” Your tight fists unfurl. 

“y/n,” Mingi cups your hip and shifts behind you, “I think I already know the answer, but I’ve been wrong about what’s been going on for months, so can I ask you something?” 

“Anything,” You repeat his words back to him. 

“Was it just heat? Or do you want them too?” 

“Just heat,” You assure him immediately, finding his hand and interlocking  your fingers, “I promise you, it was just heat.” 

“Okay,” He nods. 

“Honestly,” You add quietly, “I don’t think I let myself understand what being with you both had meant until I experienced something different. I’ve never felt the way I felt with you both, before or after,” 

Mingi nods again, and Yunho’s lips connect gently with your forehead. 

“I understand if this is too much,” You start to say, but Yunho pulls back with a sharp intake of breath. 

“No, y/n,” he cups your cheek, “it was hard to see things clearly in the moment that day, we were worried about you and I’ll admit I was jealous too, but you didn’t do anything wrong and we handled it more than poorly,” 

“You’re friends with them,” You point out softly, still waiting for the moment they let your words sink in.  

“So are you,” Mingi says easily.  

Yunho runs his hand along your arm, “If you wanted to be with someone else, would you be here?” 

“No,” You answer immediately. 

“That’s enough for me,” 

“Me too,” Mingi adds, “I just want to move forward,”  

“Exactly,” Yunho finds your clasped hands in the dark and holds them both. 

“Hearing you say you and Hwa aren’t together,” Mingi presses a kiss to your bare shoulder, “I’ve never been so happy to be wrong about something, this changes nothing, babe,” 

Your body unknots in their hands, “Okay,” 

“Is that everything you wanted to tell us?” Yunho squeezes you softly. 

“That’s everything,”

The room feels lighter with nothing between you.  

“Well,” Yunho shifts closer and presses another kiss to your forehead, “I love you,” 

Mingi’s nuzzles another kiss  to your shoulder, “I love you too,” 

Relief spreads through your body, and you tug them closer until you’re sandwiched perfectly between them once again. The weight sitting on your chest is suddenly gone. 

There’s nothing more to say tonight, nothing more to do, but held between them with your legs all tangled together under the sheet you feel safe. You’re tired, exhausted even, but for a little while you can’t close your eyes. You listen to the way their breath evens out as they drop into sleep, gentle, rhythmic sighs as their bodies relax into yours. You listen to the city outside, the hum of the forced air unit, the distant click of a door shutting in the adjacent apartment. You focus on all the things you can feel, all the things you can hear. They way you’re here, present in your body. 

Yunho shifts, rolling away just enough that you dip forwards with him and you end up against his chest. His heart thumps low and slow against your cheek. Mingi makes a soft sound at being disturbed, his body attaching back onto you like a magnet as he reaches over and hitches up his leg, cuddling you both. 

You didn’t know it was possible to miss a person this much, let alone two. 

Your throat tightens up, a feeling deep in your chest and you press your eyes closed. You whisper soft against their skin, practicing the words on your lips, “I love you,”

In the dark, you make them this little promise. 

this night together - chapter one (j.yh + s.mg)

chapter one: a safe place to land

summary: you're finally getting your dream job, working with some of the best dancers in the business, but a job change means a break in your healthcare coverage and suppressants these days are expensive. going into heat at the studio pretty much seems like the worst case scenario, but you find yourself in the care of two alphas who won't let you go through it alone. note: reader and the boys are not idols in this fic, but instead are part of the bb trippin dance crew. the idol group mentioned in the fic's name is 'new world' which was one of the early options for ateez's name, and i just thought that was cute. overall though, i know very little about dancing and choreography. i did my best to research what that field might be like, but please know there are likely inaccuracies. also.... i have no idea how healthcare coverage with jobs work in korea and my research wasn't too helpful. we're going with what i know which is often a ninety day waiting period before you get health coverage at a new job, which means reader here cannot afford her medication out of pocket. go with it, for me ♡

warnings: just.... so much smut including: heat, nesting, knotting, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), rough sex, big dick yunho, implied breeding kink (it's omegaverse so ya know), gratuitous praise to make reader feel better, lots of pet names, lots of heat symptoms like cramps, slick, and insatiable horniness.

pairings: alpha!yunho x alpha!mingi x omega!reader

genre: smut, abo/omegaverse, angst, fluff, romance, polyamory

word count: 13.6K

next chapter | AO3

The first sign is the headache, a low, dull throb at the back of your skull. It’s not a full-blown migraine yet, but it might become one and that’s your first indication that your heat is close. You’ve done your suppressant rationing and your bargaining and your plotting and planning, but in the end it’s going to come down to luck if you can make it through the recording. 

You had asked the company about their heat leave policy in the most casual way that you could, still new enough to KQ that it seemed natural for an omega to be asking. You don’t know why you were surprised, but as always the policy is disappointing. Full health coverage only after ninety days of employment, and until then not only are your suppressants not covered any heat leave is fully unpaid. 

You had studied your cycle calendar in detail and tried to map out the dates, but no matter how you drew it or cut up the last of your suppressants to try and extend the effects, your heat was going to fall on or around your first real performance. And it’s not like you’re an idol, it’s not like the camera will be focused on you, but the idea of letting your new crew down two months into being here  is too fucked a thought to entertain. 

Your throat feels dry after the first run through of the routine, unnaturally so, a tight cough building in the back of your throat as you try to hold it together. The minute the music fades you’re falling out of formation before anyone else and covering your mouth with your elbow, coughing dryly into your sleeve. 

“You good?” San asks from his place next to you. 

“Mhm,” You nod tightly, but the cough is lodged in your throat, “I just need to,”

A bottle of water is pushed into your hand and you nod in thanks, unscrewing the cap fast and knocking it back, letting the cold water soothe your throat. 

“Are you sick, y/n?” San crosses his arms to appraise you better, ducking his head and getting a good look at you. 

“No, no,” You take a deep breath now that you can and shake your head, “just dry, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to slow us down.” 

“Let’s take five,” Yunho announces from the front. 

You take another sip of water and the group starts to break apart. The cool bottle keeps you grounded and as far from anxiety as you can possibly get with the knowledge of this hanging over you. 

“You good?” Yujin, one of the few other female BB Trippin dancers, asks, her chest heaving as she jogs up to you. 

“Yeah, yeah,” You assure her, “I just need a minute,” 

She squeezes your shoulder before moving past you, and you lean back against the wall nearby before taking a deep breath. Your eyes go unfocused towards the mirror as you collect yourself, drinking more water and hoping that no one’s upset with the delay. You’re still new here, but so far you’ve been accepted into the fold well, only a few of the dancers more aloof, so focused on the work you haven’t had a chance to try and make friends. You hope they aren’t upset at your sudden need for a break right on the first run through on the big day. You feel hot eyes on you, and you focus, catching Minseok in the mirror. He’s always pleasant and polite, but never overly friendly, and when you catch his gaze momentarily you see that his jaw is tight and his throat jumps like a spasm as he swallows and averts his eyes from yours. 

Your brow knits in confusion, but Yunho appearing next to you breaks the brief moment of concentration and you turn towards him. 

His eyes are soft, but his face is still serious and wired into work, “You sure you’re good?” 

“Definitely,” You protest, “really,” 

He chews the inside of his lip for a moment before adjusting the cap on his head and holding out a little bottle of pills, “Your head?” 

“How did you know?” You thought you were good at concealing it. 

“You keep wincing when I put the high lights on,” He nods up towards the fluorescents, “migraine?” 

“A little one,” You assure him, you know he’s got to be worried about you dropping out of formation right before recording, “but I got this,” 

As the lead choreographer and director of today’s stage performance, he’s been on edge this week. He’s so incredibly focused on the finer details down to every precise placement, finger extension, facial expression. You’ve been a dancer for a long time, and you’ve worked behind idol groups before, but not like this. The atmosphere here is different, and working with New World doesn’t feel like backup dancing at all. And for Yunho, it’s become clear to you over the past couple of months that while he isn’t the boss, he is the leader here and he takes that responsibility incredibly personally. 

But despite all that pressure and responsibility, he surprises you when he smiles at your admission, “I get them sometimes. Do you get auras?” 

You shake your head.

“I do,” He offers you the bottle again, “it sucks, but you know, the light sensitivity is always the worst thing,” 

You take the bottle and tip the migraine medication out into your palm, “Yeah,” 

“Are you sure you don’t need to tap out?” He offers, voice a little softer so that it’s a conversation just between you, “I know you don’t want to, but I can’t have you falling on stage,” 

“No, honestly, I wouldn’t put the team in that position,” You look up, trying your best to convey with your eyes that you can make it, even though the low throb in your skull says otherwise. 

“Okay,” He nods once, “I just had to ask. Are you ready?” 

“Ready,” 

“Alright,” He takes a step away and moves back towards the main part of the room. This time he doesn’t adjust the lights, he keeps the room low lit and calm and he claps as he turns back to the room at large, “Let’s run it again. We have an hour before the van gets here, and then from there it’s go time. We ready?” 

A chorus of yes echoes back, and you lend your voice to the mix, shaking off the pounding in your brain. You can do this. You can. Wooyoung punches your arm softly as he walks by you to get to his starting position, flashing you a smile and an encouraging nod. With a deep exhale you let it go, and you get to work. 

By the time you finish the third run through, your muscles are screaming, but you’ve managed to hold the rest tightly in. The migration medication seems to be helping, and though you can sense Yunho continuing to glance at you in the mirror he seems pleased that you’re keeping up. You just need to make it through this day, and then you can let it all fall apart.

With a glance at your watch, the hour now up, you realize just how much more time there is to get through. It’s only six in the morning, the earliest you’ve had to get up and be ready for this job yet. You’ve been told that if you’re ever a supporting dancer for a comeback stage it will be even earlier, two or three to accommodate pre-recording time. For this though, you’re not filming a comeback stage. You’ll get to the studios alongside New World at around seven-thirty, spend at least an hour or two getting ready in the green room, and then from there it will be a waiting game, and you don’t really know how a show like this will go. Music shows are a well oiled machine of time management, but this type of larger long program for their survival show stage is something you just aren’t used to. 

You just have to, without question, make it back home, but that might be eight hours from now or twelve, and that level of uncertainty makes your stomach churn. 

On the bus you take stock. Sore muscles, dry throat, ever so slight cramping in your back, bubbling migraine, fatigue. You’re not yet feeling the waves of hot flashing blush or deep, burgeoning cramps, but it’s not too far off. It feels like at the very least the quarter suppressant you choked down this morning might be doing just enough to mask the scent of your pre-heat, and that’s the best you can do. At least for now, no one’s noticed how close you are to the edge. No one, except possibly Wooyoung. 

“Here,” He says from his seat next to you, offering you a lozenge from a bag, “for your throat,” 

You stare for a second at the offering before your brain fires and you accept one with quiet thanks. Omegas often keep cooling lozenges around for their heat and pre-heat, something to take the edge off the soreness and dryness and it doesn’t surprise you that the only one attuned to your slight discomfort is another omega.

“You can keep the bag,” He places it on your lap, “if you need it,” 

“I’m good,” You pass it back, not wanting to admit how close you really are, “like I said, just dry,” 

“Okay,” He nods, and then he lets the subject lie, “are you ready for today?” 

“Yeah,” You swallow tightly, “nervous, but yeah,” 

“Mm,” He grins, relaxing back into his seat, “it’s fun, I promise,” 

“Yeah?” 

“When you see it all come together on the monitors,” He nods, “it just makes it all worth it,” 

“All the work, you mean?” You can’t help but glance up the length of the bus, to where Yunho sits alongside San and Mingi, all talking quietly and seriously amongst themselves. 

“Yeah,” He nods, “you’ve been working a lot of nights too, catching up,” 

“I just don’t want me being new to be the reason it’s not perfect,” You reply with ease. 

“That’s good,” Wooyoung says, “and I promise if you weren’t nailing it, you’d know by now.” 

“Would I?” 

“You wouldn’t be sitting here,” Wooyoung nods towards the front, “Mingi would have cut you ages ago,” 

“Mingi?” He’s been nothing but nice, flirty, and funny. He’d been helping you out at night to get better, you thought so that Yunho and San didn’t have an inkling that you’re behind. 

“His opinion is the one that matters,” Wooyoung laughs, whispering to you so the rest of the bus can’t hear, “have you not picked up on that yet?” 

You shake your head slowly. 

“y/n,” Wooyoung smiles as he realizes just how clueless you are, “Yunho would recommend we all stop drinking water if Mingi said it was a good idea. Mingi trusts his gut, and Yunho trusts Mingi,” 

“Oh,” You breathe. 

“Yep,”

“What about Jaemin?” You ask softly. You’ve only met the actual crew leader a few times here and there, but most of the time he’s not at the studio itself. 

“He keeps the work coming and the doors open,” Wooyoung says, “but they keep us moving.” 

You let his words sink in, the reality that for weeks you’ve been working side by side with Mingi and confessing all your fears of inadequacy, that he was the person who had to approve of you all along and you never knew it. You sigh, “Are you just trying to hype me up, or are you being serious?” 

“I don’t lie.” He says, full stop, no room for misinterpretation. 

The menthol lozenge burns a little on your tongue, but soothes the cut feeling in the back of your throat when you swallow and you find that finally for the first time all night you’re able to really exhale. With a soft nod you turn to him, “Okay,” 

“Okay?” 

“Let’s fucking do this,” 

He grins, “After this stage you’re officially one of us, you know,” 

Your eyes narrow, “You said that after my first week,” 

He rolls his eyes, “Okay, maybe I lie a little,” 

For the afternoon, with the lightness of Wooyoung by your side, you forget about your headache. The day happens fast, even with all the sitting and waiting in green rooms. There’s so much to remember, from camera positions to where the light is coming from, to how to adapt to the stage floor being just a little smaller than what you were working with back at KQ. The members seem suddenly focused in a way you’ve never experienced, you know what this means to them. To all of you. By the time it’s filming, you’ve had at least six lozenges and taken two more painkillers for your migraine to keep it at bay, and you're starting to feel exhausted. You film it twice, from two angles. Wide for choreography and tighter close ups on the members for cinematic facial expressions and intricacies of movement. 

When it’s all over and you pile back into the van, your legs feel heavy and disconnected. If you can just make it back to the studio, you can change and call an Uber and get inside before it knocks you sideways. 

Someone suggests drinks, someone else suggests a celebratory meal. 

You want nothing more than for the van to speed up. 

You grip your hand tight and breathe through the tight sensations in your body and no one ever notices a thing, not even Wooyoung who seems caught in the euphoria of the performance, your quietness blissfully overlooked for the moment. 

At the studio, it takes time for the locker room to clear out after the show, everyone else riding on the high of the performance too and slow to pack up for the night. It had gone so well, despite the way you had to push through the pain.  As the pain worsens, you’re not sure how you’re going to get home, but you know you need to figure it out soon. You can maybe call one of your roommates, but on a Friday night it feels unlikely that they’ll be available or sober enough to get you. 

A cramp ripples through you, and you grip down on the wooden bench, your leg bouncing to try and distract you from the waves of sensation washing over you. It’s been years since your last heat, and you can already tell this is going to be hard and heady. Sweat is collecting on your brow, waves of uncomfortable warmth passing through your body, and you can feel the way your breath is tightening. You really don’t have long, a matter of hours maybe, but it’s obvious to anyone who looks at you what’s going on. 

You fish your phone out of your bag and scan through your contacts, blinking hard to try and clear your blurring vision. The phone keeps ringing, first one of your roommates, then another, and when you hit their voicemail boxes for the second time, your phone slips from your fingers in frustration. Tears prick the back of your eyes, your hands shaking. You really thought you had more time. 

A noise across the locker room startles you, the heavy metal clang of a locker closing and you realize someone’s still in here with you. You’re trembling, a mix of abject panic and pain, your omega surfacing inside you in a way that you can’t control. Footsteps come closer, and though you’re still shielded by a row of lockers and can’t see him, you can smell him. Rich, cocoa and cinnamon. 

Mingi walks past your section of lockers, and you hope he won’t notice, but you’re never, ever that lucky. 

“Hey,” He says when he catches sight of you, “you did good tonight,” 

You keep your eyes away from his, curling down further to tug at the laces of your shoes and hope that he doesn’t notice the way you’re clenching your jaw to keep from crying, “Thanks,” 

“Yeah,” He says, and you hear his steps shift and then pause. 

Your eyes press closed as you hide behind the curtain of your hair. 

“y/n,” Mingi asks, “are you okay?”

“Mhm,” You pull your laces tight, your insides cramping painfully as your body registers the presence of an alpha. 

“Are you sure?” He asks. 

Biting down on the inside of your cheek you steady your voice, “Yeah, I’m good, just tired.” 

Mingi doesn’t answer, doesn’t move, and there’s really only so long you can pretend to tie your shoes. You tug your other laces taut and then do your best, leaning back up into a normal sitting position despite the pained pressure inside you. You grip down on the bench again and breathe slowly through your nose. 

“Are you hurt?” Mingi asks, concern evident in his voice, “Did you pull something?” 

You shake your head, you can’t trust your words. 

“Something’s wrong,” Mingi takes a step forward and you jolt back, sliding off the edge of the bench with a tight sound, your back connecting hard with the lockers behind you. His eyes widen at your sudden movement and you hold a hand out to keep him right where is. 

“Stop,” You plead, body shaking, “don’t,” 

“You are hurt,” He can feel your fear, and his eyes are panicked as he scans your body, “what happened?” 

“It’s not,” You sigh, shaking your head, another hot flash making your cheeks light up with blush and cutting your words. 

When he takes another step forwards you watch his face change, the way his breathing settles low into his chest as he regards you and comprehension starts to relax his face. Your eyes press closed as another cramp ripples through your abdomen, and suddenly you feel the first rush of slick. 

“Fuck,” Mingi says, “what are you doing here?” 

“Working,” You groan, opening your eyes again. 

“You should be on heat leave,” He shakes his head, “you should be home,”

“I know,” You nod, your throat growing tight and tears bubbling back up, “I-I asked, but it would have been unpaid, and with the performance… I couldn’t afford to not be here. I thought I had a little more time,” 

“Okay,” He steps a little closer and you shake your head, pressing your body back further against the lockers as if that will do anything, “it’s okay, I’m not going to hurt you.” 

“I know that,” You laugh humorlessly, “but right now your scent is making this harder,” 

“Oh,” He swallows hard, “I didn’t mean to,” 

“Mingi,” You meet his gaze and his eyes soften, “I need help,” You wish you didn’t have to ask. You wish you had just stayed home, not rationed your suppressants, and just handled this on your own. 

He nods, straightening up and swallowing hard, “Okay, let’s go,” 

“Go?” You watch as he picks up your bag and slings it over his shoulder with his own. 

“Can you walk?” He holds a hand out to you, an offering and nothing more if you want it. 

“Yeah,” You stammer, pushing yourself off the lockers, but one step already has you shaky and you grip his hand and let him hold your weight to keep you standing. 

“Alright,” He shakes his head, “I’m sorry, just hold your breath or something,” 

His arm wraps around your back, pulling you up and supporting your weight with a sure hand on your forearm and with his help, you take a step. His scent is dizzying, equal parts calming and arousing, and tears roll down your cheeks as you try to keep quiet and hold it together. Slick pools between your thighs and you’re sure he can smell it, but he’s doing a good job of saying nothing about it to you. 

“W-where are we going?” You manage as he pushes the door to the locker room open and steers you out into the dimly lit hallway of the dance studio. 

“We need to get Yunho,” He says with ease, like it’s obvious and poses absolutely no problem. 

At the thought of him, your body clenches and you bite down to keep a tight, pained sound inside. “No, Mingi, he can’t,” 

“We’re past that point,” Mingi is all but dragging you now, “I need his help, I can’t get you home by myself.” 

Yunho’s the only one with a car between them, not the mention a driver’s license. Mingi typically hitches a ride with him or using the subway, and at this stage in your heat, it’s not safe to take public transportation or put you in a taxi. There are too many variables, too many people you don’t know, and you need someone you trust to get you to a safe location to ride this out. The idea of Yunho tears your body in two, caught between the feeling of wanting him and never wanting him to know about this, but you know he’s safe, that safe place. 

There’s a light still on in the office at the end of the hall where you know Yunho is going through footage from the day and making notes while things are still fresh in his mind. When you’re close enough to the door but still safely in the hall, Mingi calls out, “Yunho!”

“Yeah?” He shouts back, and you can hear the distraction in his voice, a clear picture of him writing something down as he calls over his shoulder. 

“I need your help,” Mingi adjusts his grip on you, holding you close as your body trembles in his arms, “like right now,” 

“Uh,” Yunho trails off, “yeah, okay, yeah, I’m coming.” You hear Yunho jump up from the chair in the office, his quick footsteps, and another wave of fear flutters through you. 

“Mingi,” You grip down on his hand. 

“Right, fuck,” He remembers himself, tucking you closer to his chest, “slowly,” 

“What?” Yunho’s voice comes from the office but you can see his shadow on the floor in the hall as he gets closer to the door. 

“Yunho!” Mingi’s voice is deep, clear and firm and you let your head rock back on his shoulder, “Slowly, seriously,” 

He’s not distracted anymore, he’s incredibly alert. Yunho steps into the hallway slowly, just as directed when he hears the tenor of his best friend’s voice, and it takes him seconds to size up what’s going on. 

“y/n,” He takes a half step forward and stops himself, arm outstretched, “oh no,” 

His soft tone soothes you instantly but it doesn't help the emotional live wire you feel like you’re walking, and a little sob bubbles out of you, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” 

“You’re in heat,” He says, shaking his head, “it’s not safe for you to be here, why are you here?” 

Your omega shrinks and more tears spill over, the wave uncontrollable now, “I’m sorry, please,” 

Yunho’s eyes flick to Mingi’s before he comes closer, reaching out for you, “I’m not upset,” 

Relief washes through you, “You’re not?” 

“No,” He assures you, his voice dropping to a warm and even tone, “I’m just worried about you, I want you safe. Come here,” 

You comply instantly, stepping out of Mingi’s hold and straight into Yunho’s arms, letting him tuck you close into his chest before he adjusts his stance and brings your face up to the crook of his neck. His scent washes over you like a salve, nothing but warm rain and fresh cut cedar. 

“Shh,” He soothes you, running a hand down your back, “there we go, take a deep breath,” 

For a minute, it feels like your cramps have passed, your head clearing. He grounds you and brings you back into your body with his touch and you breathe low and slow, your hands gripping his shirt. 

“Okay,” Yunho murmurs, “what’s your heat plan? We can take you and get you there safe,” 

You shake your head into his neck, nuzzling closer to his skin, “I don’t really have one,” 

“What do you mean?” He asks, clearly not understanding. 

“You can take me home,” You tell him, eyes drifting closed, “I usually can take care of things myself,”

“That’s insane,” Mingi says from behind you both, and you feel Yunho’s hands tighten on your back. 

“Who’s there with you?” Yunho asks, “Don’t you have roommates?” 

You nod, resting on his shoulder, “Mhm,” 

“y/n,” He prompts you, “what are their designations?” 

“Mm,” You’re feeling so warm wrapped in his scent, “Ari and Hyejin are betas, Hyunwoo is an alpha but he’s probably out tonight,” 

“Tonight,” Yunho shakes his head, “you go through heats like this with an alpha home?” 

“Not like this,” You mumble into his chest and he shifts you in his arms. 

“What did you say?” 

“Not a heat like this,” You manage, “I’m normally on pretty heavy suppressants,” 

“She can’t go home like this,” Mingi says, “this is still just pre-heat,”

“I think so,” Yunho’s voice sounds far away, and you sink into the steady sound of his heart and the feeling of his hand smoothing a comforting line up and down your back. When he finally speaks again, his voice is so tender you almost don’t recognize it, “Can we bring you home? Let me help, you can’t go through a heat this hard by yourself,” 

“Yunho,” You shudder against him, “we can’t,” 

The thought of his cock inside you flashes through your brain, and you imagine the feeling of his swollen knot locking in, your body full and sated and the cramps dissipating. Your core throbs at the idea and you feel another rush of slick rush through you. 

“You’re in pain,” He murmurs, dropping his head a little lower, “you need an alpha. Let me take care of you, let me take you home,” 

You should say no, you should take your chances in your apartment with your box of toys and a bottle of lube, but you keep breathing in his steady scent and all you can do is say yes. Yunho’s been kind to you since the beginning, taking care of you for weeks even if he didn’t really know it, and he can take care of you now too if you just let him. 

“We’ll take care of you,” Mingi cuts in, offering his help softly, “and make sure you’re safe until it’s over,” 

“Are you sure?” You pull back from Yunho’s neck, leaning heavily on his chest still. 

He cups your cheek in his broad hand, bringing your eyes up to his, and nods, “Positive, and if you don’t,” he swallows hard tries to find the right words, “if you don’t want to have sex we can figure something out, but you need a place that’s private, and you need to be with more experienced alphas who know how to keep their hands to themselves.”

They’re not wrong. You just have to trust them. You just have to let go. 

Your body makes the decision for you, the way your aching and throbbing is soothed just being between them, and you let your mind follow. 

“Okay,” You sigh, leaning into his hand, “yes,” 

“Alright,” He sighs, “don’t worry about a thing, okay? We’ll get you home.” Yunho’s thumb rubs a soothing pattern into the soft gland at your wrist and it relaxes you further. He looks over you for a moment, “Mingi, I need you to take her for a minute, I’ll get the car.” 

When Yunho steps away, just to try and pass you back to Mingi, the lack of contact strikes panic through you and you shake your head, “No, no, don’t go,” 

“It’s not for long,” He assures you, his hands sliding down your arms as he separates from you slowly, “I’ll be back in 5 minutes,” 

A panicked whine leaves your throat and your mind spins, “Don’t leave me!” 

“Hey,” He soothes you but you don’t respond, all you know is he’s leaving and you’ll be without him and the thought makes your body clench. “y/n, hey, y/n,” He tries again but you’re shaking your head. “Omega.” His voice roots you to the spot. 

Mingi’s hands close over you gingerly from behind, and Yunho nods as your panicked noises stop, “Okay, see?” He says, “Listen to me, omega, I’m not going far. You won’t be alone, Mingi’s right here. I’ll be back in five minutes, and then I won’t leave you again, okay?” 

“Okay,” You lean back into Mingi, and let his touch keep you warm. 

Yunho nods and then keeps his eyes on you as he moves back to the office, darting out of your eye line for a moment. You can hear him grabbing his things; the zip of his bag, the jingle of his keys, and the lights flick off before he jogs back out. 

“Here,” He says, holding out his jacket, “put this on,” 

Mingi takes it from his hands, and eases it onto you. When you pull the jacket up, his scent washes over you again and you sigh. 

“Better?” Yunho asks. 

“Mhm,” You murmur, and tucked into the warmth of Mingi’s chest with their combined scents easing you, you can breathe. You keep your eyes closed, but you hear when Yunho walks out the front door and your body clenches a little, but you take a deep breath in.

“Mingi,” You finally say, looking up at him, “thank you for not leaving me,” 

“Hey,” He shakes his head, “I was never going to leave you there,”

You nod, twisting in his arms so you can tuck your face into his chest and let his arms wrap fully around you, “I’m sorry,” you sigh, “I’m not usually such a touchy person,” 

He chuckles, smoothing your hair with his hand, “It’s okay, I like it,” 

“And Yunho?” 

“Oh,” Mingi laughs, “he’s a cuddler, don’t worry.” 

Your stomach cramps and you groan into his chest, “God,” you grip him, “I forgot how much this hurts,” 

“How long has it been?” Mingi shifts his grip so that more of your weight is supported, “You know, since your last real heat?” 

“Years,” You tell him honestly, “they’ve been so much easier on suppressants,” 

“Mm,” Mingi nods above you, “when this hits it’s going to be intense,” 

“Have you helped a partner through heat before?” 

“I have,” Mingi says, “but Yunho hasn’t,” 

“Oh,” You have no idea why Yunho offered himself up immediately like he had done it a thousand times before if he’s never shared a heat with someone. The sure, practiced tenor of his voice when he called you omega rings in your ears. 

“Don’t worry,” Mingi assures you, “I know what I’m doing, and Yunho’s got a handle on himself. He won’t touch you if you don’t want him to,” 

“I’m really, really not worried about that,” You sigh. 

“Good,” Mingi’s phone starts to vibrate in his pocket, and he adjusts his arms around you so he can find it, “We’ll take care of you - Hey? Are you out front?” 

You can’t hear Yunho’s side of the conversation but you just wait, held against him. 

“Okay, I got her,” Mingi says, and you smile. 

You forgot the way that heat takes over every physical sensation, every little thing heightened until you feel like you’re on a razor’s edge. In a matter of hours you’re going to be a writhing mess, in so much pain you might be delirious - you might ask anything of them, beg for anything.  You have to reconcile with your shame now, and let them help. After weeks of dancing around Yunho, what you really want is to ask him out for coffee, not this. Mingi is no stranger to being flirtatious, those sparks between you already evident, but it always felt like a little inside joke between friends, not a step towards anything more.  

“Alright, just a little further,” Mingi urges you as he slips his arm under yours. 

It takes time to get to the car, but when you get there, Mingi slides into the backseat with you instead of taking the front with Yunho like he normally would. Enclosed in the warmth of the car, you relax into Mingi’s arms and find Yunho’s eyes studying you in the rearview mirror. Their scents settle you a bit, more than any other alpha’s ever has. 

“I’m okay,” You assure them, “it’s coming and going,” 

“We don’t live too far,” Yunho smiles, “so just try to relax and we’ll be inside soon, okay?” 

“Yeah,” 

Mingi eases you against him, feeling your exhaustion, until you’re nestled in his lap with his fingers softly carding through your hair. Yunho’s eyes flick back to you again and again as he drives, but for the first time since the locker room, you’re not in too much pain. 

“Yunho,” Mingi murmurs and his friend hums a noise of acknowledgement, “we need to pick up a few things for her,” 

“What do you mean?” 

“She needs to eat before this really starts,” Mingi says quietly, “I think we have water bottles at home and ice packs?” 

“Yeah we do, I went to the store a couple days ago,” Yunho glances back at you again. 

“Okay,” Mingi’s fingers keep up their soothing brushes on your scalp, “and we need condoms, in case.” 

“Oh,” Yunho blinks and opens his mouth to say something but you get there more quickly. 

“We don’t need them,” You twitch as a cramp ripples through you, “I’m on birth control,” 

“If it would make you feel more comfortable though,” Mingi offers. 

“No,” You groan a little and shift on the uncomfortable back seat, “really, I’m good.” 

The car is quiet for a minute, the reality sinking in that they won’t just be keeping you safe tucked away in a room in their apartment, but they will be helping you. Yunho clears his throat, “Then we’re good, let’s get you home and in bed, and then we can order food? Do we have time?” 

“Mhm,” You assure him, “I’m okay now that i’m with you both,” 

“Exactly,” Mingi soothes you as your fists tighten, eyes closing as you breathe through another small cramp, “your alphas will take good care of you,” 

You release a shuddering breath, the word sinking into your chest and keeping you whole. 

“Almost there,” He murmurs, “just breathe, omega,” 

Getting you upstairs to their apartment proves a little challenging, moving through the lobby of the apartment building and ferrying you into an elevator. They stay close to you, keeping you firmly tucked between them as they walk you in, and you do your very best to seem in control and not draw any unnecessary attention. 

The minute their apartment door closes though, your legs give out and Mingi scoops you up, “You did so well,” he assures you, and it’s evident now that he is the one with the experience here, knowing exactly what the primal part of your brain needs to hear. 

“I’ll order food,” Yunho says, giving you a small smile. 

“Get her some meat,” Mingi directs him, “broth too, and lots of rice,” 

“You are good at this,” You sigh. 

“We got you,” Mingi grins, acting like this is second nature, “now… I can put you to bed, or would you like a cool shower before you lay down? I know that helps,” 

“Mm, yes please,” You nod. 

“Alright,” Mingi nods and looks up, “get the food going, and then meet me in my room with some water and the ice packs.” 

“Right,” Yunho looks at you, “are you okay with just Mingi?” 

“Yeah,” You smile, “I’m feeling okay,” 

“Good,” Yunho smiles back and pulls out his phone to order the food, “then I’ll meet you there.” 

Mingi sets you up in the bathroom with ease, making sure you have towels and everything you need. Your heat is coming, building inside your body with every cramp and rush of warm blush, but their combined scents keep things calm enough for you to take care of yourself a bit. He asks you to keep the door unlocked in case you need help, and leaves you to your moment of peace. You let the cool water settle your body, taking solace in this dip of your pre-heat before things get worse. 

When you’re done, wrapped up in fluffy towels and feeling decidedly less sticky from the combination of sweat and slick, you make your way out into the hall. There are three bedrooms, an empty one you assume is Yunho’s, one that’s been converted into an office, and then one larger room at the end of the hall that you know must be Mingi’s. 

He appears in the doorway before you make it too much further and smiles, “Feeling better?” 

“Yes, thank you so much,” 

“Mhm,” He reaches for you, “come on in, we got everything ready for you,” 

His bedroom smells overwhelmingly like cinnamon when you first cross through the door and you feel a tense flutter in your core. His room is tidy, clean and organized well, which feels surprising for Mingi given how chaotic and busy he can seem at times. The bed is made, but the covers are pulled back for you and you see a folded shirt and thin sleep pants at the edge of the bed. Yunho is sitting in a chair in the corner by the foot of the bed and waiting, the dresser adjacent to his side equipped with almost everything you’ll need. Water bottles, pain killers, and ice packs, an unfilled bowl with a few washcloths stacked inside. 

“How do you know all this?” You catch Mingi’s eye. 

“My girlfriend in college went through terrible heats,” He explains easily, directing you towards the bed, “I remember what used to make her feel a little better,” 

“Ah,” That explains so much of him, and his easy reaction to finding you in the locker room. 

“Do you need help getting dressed at all?” He asks. 

“No, I just really want to lie down,” Your limbs are starting to feel heavy and achy. 

“We’ll leave you be then,” Yunho offers, “and when the food gets here we’ll bring some in,”

“Mhm,” You sigh, sinking down onto the bed, “thank you both again, so much,” 

When you’re finally alone in Mingi’s room, you start to take stock of your body and how it feels, getting a sense of how far you are from the real thick of your heat. Judging by the intensity of your cramps and the fact that you’re starting to produce slick, you know you’re not too far off, maybe a few hours at most. The onset of your heat is normally much slower than this, a long few days of light pre-heat into a couple of days of uncomfortable cramps and extremely high arousal. On suppressants it feels easy, off them everything is unpredictable. 

You pull on the clothes they left you, but they smell like stale lavender, artificial like laundry detergent and it’s not helping. You find the hamper in the corner and toss off the top, digging through Mingi’s clothes until you find a hoodie and you bury your face in it before taking a deep inhale and letting the warm smell of him pass through you. It might be crossing a line, but you don’t really care, you need them.

A pulsing wave passes through you and you collapse back into the bed, tugging on the hoodie and curling yourself up in the covers. The bed smells like him too, and you gather a pillow to your chest and take a deep inhale. Your neediness is starting to build up again with every passing minute, flushing heat through your chest and where you were cold a moment ago you’re suddenly overheated. You kick off the covers, but keep them close, and pile the pillows around you too so you can better inhale his scent. 

Slick rushes forwards again and you bite your inner cheek to stifle a moan and keep things in check. You push off the sleep pants they had given you, and fish through your gym bag until you find a clean pair of underwear and some wipes. You clean yourself up a bit, and change your underwear for the third time today, before deciding that there’s no point in putting the pants back on. Mingi’s hoodie falls low over your shorter frame, dragging along your thighs. 

You bury yourself back in his bed, and do your best to get a little rest before what’s to come. 

When you wake, it’s to Mingi pushing back his hoodie so he can see your face a little better, “Hey,” he murmurs, “how are you feeling?” 

“Tired,” You sigh, “and sore,” 

“Okay,” He smiles and tugs lightly on the strings of his hoodie, “is this helping?” 

“Mm,” You nod into his palm, but nervous knots start to curl up in your belly, “where’s Yunho?” 

“I’m here,” Yunho’s voice comes from the opposite side of the bed, and you twist in the sheets to find him, a cramp pulsing through you as you do and you groan, gripping onto the bed sheets beneath you. 

“Easy,” Mingi scolds you softly, “you need all the rest you can get,” 

Yunho finds your eyes and smiles, “What’s wrong?” He asks gently, noticing your nervous fidgeting. 

“I don’t know, I thought you left,” You manage. 

“I’m an idiot,” Mingi sighs behind you and his hand that rests on your hip shifts away, “stay with her a second,” 

“Mhm,” Yunho’s eyes don’t leave you, and he reaches out to rest his hand on yours, “we’ve got dinner, and then once you eat you can rest, we won’t go anywhere.” 

You watch his face as he studies your features, his breathing slow and steady, when you hear Mingi come back into the room behind you. “Here we go,” He says, and you feel a large, soft blanket draping over you. The smell of wet earth and rain in the air fills your senses again and you drag the blanket up and around you with a sigh. 

“You’re nesting,” Yunho observes, his mouth dropping open, “of course,” 

“She couldn’t smell you in here,” Mingi explains with ease, “she needs you to relax,” 

You nod, your cheek pressed against the blanket, “You smell like a thunderstorm,” 

Yunho sits slowly on the bed by your side, brushing your hair back behind your ear and smoothing his thumb along your cheekbone, “Is that right?” he smiles. 

“I love thunderstorms,” Your eyes drift closed. 

Mingi chuckles, “I think she’s found herself a heat partner,” 

“Only if she wants one,” Yunho presses, “and only after she eats,” 

Your eyes reopen, and you push yourself up to your knees, dropping the hood of Mingi’s sweatshirt and running your hands over your warm cheeks. “We need to talk now,” You blink hard and take a deep breath, “before I get too far into this,” 

“Let’s eat then,” Mingi gestures for you to sit back more comfortably and you watch as he and Yunho both produce boxes of take out from bags on the dresser, “what are you thinking?” 

“Well,” You shift up the bed to lean against the headboard, dragging Yunho’s blanket with you, “I haven’t gone through this in a while. I’m not sure how it’s going to be, but you said you wanted to help. What did you mean by it?” 

Yunho looks like he’s not sure exactly what to say or where to start and Mingi cuts in smoothly, “I’m willing to help with all of it. If you want me gone, I’m gone. If you want help to come to take the edge off, I can do that, and if you want me to actually knot you,” he gestures for you to fill in the blanks. 

“Right,” 

“But,” Mingi cuts in and your eyes shift back to him, “You seem to want Yunho,” 

His eyes flick down to the way you’re rubbing his blanket between your thumb and forefinger and you drop it instantly, not even realizing what you were doing. Mingi smiles softly and adds, “I think you prefer his scent,” 

“No!” You exclaim, wincing at the way your body tenses up, “No, it’s not that, at all.” 

“Earlier,” Mingi takes a seat on the edge of the bed, “you said my scent was making it harder, that’s not what I want to do for you.” 

“Mingi,” You shake your head, “I meant because it’s good, both of you. So, no I don’t have a preference.” 

“Oh,” Mingi smiles, and then turns to Yunho, “how are you feeling?” 

He clears his throat softly and nods, “The same as you, I’m all in.” 

“Okay,” You exhale slowly, “then so am I,” 

Mingi passes you a take out container and a pair of chopsticks, “Eat this, okay?” 

“Mhm,” You’re caught between exhaustion and adrenaline, but you stay focused on the task at hand. You all eat quietly, the atmosphere a little awkward now that you’ve all agreed. 

As you finish the container of food, Yunho smoothly passes you another and he says, “So, you feel comfortable with us?” 

“I do,” You nod, shifting a little at a slight pain in your back, “I like you both, and if I can trust you in the studio, I can trust you with this.” 

“And if you ask us to knot you?” Mingi prompts. 

“Right,” You swallow, resting the container of food on your lap, “I guess there are some things we should say now,” 

They look at you, waiting expectantly. 

“People say things during heat,” You start, imagining all the things you might beg them for for the next few days to come. “It’s not like I’ll be out of my mind or anything, you know that,” You nod to Mingi. 

“Mhm,” 

“But it’s still hard to control,” You explain, and Yunho listens intently, “I don’t know what it’ll be like for me. It’s been a long time, but you have my permission to do whatever we need to. If I ask you to knot me, knot me.” 

“Okay,” Mingi nods, “it’s good that we’re clear.” 

You feel another flush up your chest and you breathe slowly, “But no matter what,” you hold their gazes, “if I ask you to claim me, don’t. Don’t do it, even if I tell you I’m sure.” 

“Absolutely not,” Mingi’s brow furrows, and he looks shocked that you’d even have to say it, “there’s no way.” 

“I know you know,” You swallow and reach for a water bottle on the nightstand, “but Yunho, you’ve never done this before.” 

“That might be true,” He shakes his head, “but I know you wouldn’t mean that, it would just be the heat talking,” 

“Exactly,” You nod, “I might sound like I want that or like I need that, but I don’t.” 

“Understood,” Yunho nods, “I wouldn’t, I swear,” 

You sink back into your pillows and tuck back into your box of food, “I just want you to be prepared,” you explain, “and before I start crying and begging you to give me a pup, I wanted to say it,” 

Mingi laughs into his food, choking a little, “Sorry, no, not funny,” 

You smile, the mood a little lighter now, “It’s kind of funny.” 

Yunho smiles, shifting further onto the bed as he all but inhales his noodles, “You seem a better, I thought it was going to just get worse,” 

“Oh, it will,” You shrug, “but the food is nice, and you’re both here with me. When Mingi found me I was scared and alone, which always makes it worse,” 

Mingi’s hand rubs a comforting line up your shin, “You’re very safe now,” 

“I know,” You nod. 

“Eat some more,” Yunho notices that you’ve taken too long of a pause, and he gestures for you to keep going, “and then what would be nice? Some sleep?” 

“Maybe,” You dip back into your rice, “would you stay?” 

“I’ll stay,” Yunho murmurs. 

“Me too,” Mingi adds. 

They keep on you to eat, making sure you’ve had your fill. Afterwards, you rest between them watching some television, keeping your mind off things as best you can while you’re still feeling somewhat okay. They’re careful of you though, every shift of your body and soft hiss through your teeth drawing their attention. Mingi is still cool and evenly calm, but surprisingly Yunho is too, and you wonder what they talked about while you were in the shower. Did they discuss what to do at all? What the night and the next few days would be like? 

You’re so exhausted, slipping further down into the bed, nestled in pillows and wrapped in Yunho’s blanket. They naturally gravitate closer, their hands finding their way to your skin, and you’re not sure if it’s just their alpha nature or if it’s them, but you’ve never been more grateful for it. 

The cramps start to become unbearable again soon after they start to hold you. You’re not sure if their presence is making things move more quickly, let alone being with two alphas, but within the hour the pain sets in. 

You curl into Mingi’s chest as tight pain cuts through you, “Fuck,” you pant against him, “it hurts,” 

“I know,” Mingi soothes you, scooting down the bed until he’s eye to eye with you, “but you’re not alone,” 

A sharper, biting pain rips through you and a flood of heat washes over you. You grip down hard on Yunho’s hand, curling into yourself with a taut moan, “It… it hurts,” 

“Shh,” Yunho kisses your hair, running his hand up and down the expanse of your abdomen, “I know it hurts, jagiya,” 

You whine at the name, desperate to hear him call you anything and everything. Your omega thrums inside you - every touch telling you just how much closer your heat is than you realize. “Please,” You plead, but you don’t know exactly what you’re pleading for, “I can’t breathe,” 

“Yes, you can,” Mingi tries to sooth you, his hand on your cheek, “look at me, y/n, come on omega,” 

Tears well in your eyes, heat flooding through your veins and a pulsating need fluttering through you. If they don’t touch you, you might wither into nothing. Your hips tuck back into Yunho’s and you groan, “I can’t,” 

“She’s burning up,” Yunho murmurs from your side. 

“Let’s take this off then,” Mingi tugs on the sleeves of his hoodie slowly, coaxing your arm through. He can see your rising panic at the idea you won't be wrapped in their scents, but he shakes his head slowly, “easy, love, let your alphas help,” 

As the heavy sweatshirt is pulled away, you drop back on the bedding between them. The thin t-shirt they gave you is all but soaked through with sweat, sticking to your curves. Your head is aching, waves of feverish heat washing over you again and again, and you whimper, your legs twitching as you try to find a somewhat comfortable position. 

“Hey, hey,” Yunho’s thumb settles over the swollen gland in your neck, and he strokes it soft and slow, “just breathe,” 

It settles you, just a bit, and you let your eyes drift shut. With a sigh you reach for Mingi just to feel a bit of his skin on yours, “I’m not even properly in heat yet and I feel like I could crawl out of my skin,” 

“Hot?” Mingi brushes the damp hair back from your forehead. 

“It’s like my skin is tingling,” You murmur, “like a nerve,”

“Okay,” He nods. He shifts off the bed and your eyes flutter open. Mingi soothes you with a gentle hand, before moving towards the dresser, “Yunho, get those clothes off her,” 

Yunho’s eyes lock on yours, “Can I?” 

You nod, your head feeling full and pained. 

Yunho’s hand slips under the edge of your damp shirt, coasting up your stomach as he pushes the fabric up and the drag of his hot hand sends a pulse through your body. You moan, head dropping back into the bedding, and you feel another gush of slick. 

“It’s okay,” Yunho soothes as you he drops your shirt to the side of the bed, “there’s nothing to be embarrassed about,” 

You huff, a light laugh as you shake your head, “Easy for you to say, you’re not falling apart whenever I touch you,” 

“Yet,” He smiles. 

“Who are you kidding?” Mingi returns to your bedside with a bowl of cool ice water and a damp washcloth. He throws a smile at his friend before ringing out the washcloth over the bowl, “The minute you saw us in the hall you were all alpha protection mode, scenting her and everything,” 

“Shut up,” 

You grin, but Mingi sweeps a cold line up your body with the cloth and you shudder, “Fuck, that’s nice,” 

“Good,” Mingi murmurs, passing another wet washcloth to Yunho. When Mingi presses a firm line up your chest, and sweeping a little too close to your neck your body arches and your nipples harden into painful peaks. 

You blush hard and drop a hand over your face, “I can’t believe we’re doing this,” 

“Why?” Yunho asks gently, wiping your brow with the cool cloth. 

“We work together,” You sigh, “closely together… I probably should have made you take me home or something but,”

“Do knotting dildos even really help?” Mingi asks bluntly. 

“I mean,” You shrug, “they get the job done,”  

“Hmm,” Mingi shakes his head, “not with a heat like this,” 

“Maybe,” You sigh. 

“y/n,” Yunho asks, “have you had a heat partner before? Have you been knotted?” 

“A long time ago,” You nod, “it wasn’t a great experience, but you know, it is what it is.” 

Yunho passes the cloth down your chest and you shudder, but he keeps the conversation going, “Why in the world are you off your suppressants then?” 

Your eyes flick down, and you swallow hard, “I can’t afford them right now,” 

“Wait,” Mingi shakes his head, “what?” 

“The brand I’m on is the only one that works for me,” You explain, “they’re not priced like the generics, and I don’t have coverage yet. I’ve been rationing them out, but,” 

“You should have talked to me about it,” Yunho shakes his head, brows knit together in concern, “we could have done something for you,” 

“Yunho,” You meet his eyes, “I appreciate that, but I’m still kind of new here. I’m just trying to prove I belong here, and I didn’t want a reason to need a special exception.”

He looks like he wants to say something, but settles on nodding, “I can understand that.” 

“I’m,” You tense up as your cramps intensify, “I’m glad to know I can talk to you, I’ll do it in the future, I just couldn’t come to you about this.” 

“Alright,” He nods, his voice shifting to soothe again as your eyes clamp tightly shut. 

“Are they worse?” Mingi asks. 

You can’t answer, not yet, your muscles are locked up in crippling pain and you feel like you’re drowning in a sudden wave of hot air. You gasp as you feel your body produce more slick, your thighs surely sticky now, and you’re suddenly hyper aware of their hands and where they rest on your body. 

“I think,” Your hips jerk as Mingi slides the washcloth just an inch up your side, “oh God, I think,” 

“Okay,” Yunho pets your hair gently, “okay, just breathe,” 

Your fingers tighten in the sheets beneath you and an overwhelming ache between your thighs reminds you just how empty your body is. You press your thighs together, feeling a throb in your core, and you can’t stop the whimper that bubbles from your lips. 

“Let’s get these off too,” Mingi murmurs, his hands settling on your hip and tugging at your underwear to slowly peel them off.  

Things are spinning around you, tense and painful suddenly and no amount of cool washcloths or gentle touches are going to help you now. Your vision feels blurry, and you curl into yourself, tucking your body into Yunho’s chest with a pained hiss. 

“Oh, come here,” Yunho tucks you close, “I’ve got you,”

“Alpha,” You feel like crying suddenly, your stomach tense, “alpha, please,” 

“What, jagiya?” Yunho murmurs against your hair. 

You can’t explain what you need, all you know is that you can’t feel him close enough and you push the edges of his shirt up to try and find more of him, “Please,” you whine as you try to feel more of his skin on yours. 

“Whoa, whoa,” He tries to catch your hands but it just makes you more tense. 

“K-knot me,” Your stomach cramps, your cunt feeling swollen and sensitive, “please,” 

“y/n,” Yunho tries again to pull your hands away but you drive forwards, pressing your cheek against his bare chest where his shirt is ridden all the way up and you sigh into his skin, pressing frantic kisses along his body. 

“Please,” You beg again, “I’ll be so good for you, so good,” 

“I know you will,” He manages, but he can’t deter you, and you feel the moment his body responds to yours. His hands tighten pleasantly on your hips, and you hear the change in his breath. He releases your hands and swallows hard, “Alright, alright,” 

“No,” Mingi interrupts, “not yet,” 

“Why?” You sob. 

“You’re not ready yet,” He soothes, shifting closer behind you and placing a warm kiss on your bare back, “and Yunho and I are not going to hurt you tonight,” 

“I don’t care,” Your hands slide down Yunho’s chest, searching for his waistband. 

“Mingi’s right,” Yunho groans, attempting to disconnect your hands from him. 

“Omega,” Mingi’s voice is firm, and your hands fall away, “be still.” You’re sure you’re shaking like a leaf, and he sighs, “You need a little sleep,” 

“I can’t sleep like this,” You shake your head, “everything hurts so much,” 

“We’ll help with that,” Mingi pulls you away from Yunho’s chest, ignoring your tense whine at being pulled away from him, and slides a hand down your thigh to press your legs open, “we’ll help you sleep,” 

Yunho rests his hand on your inner thigh, bending your knee to open you up for Mingi’s hand, “Let your alphas make you feel good,” 

You’re shaking in their grip, Yunho’s hand feeling like a lead weight, and Mingi settles down low by your side so that you’re almost nose to nose, holding your gaze as his fingers gently sink into your wet folds. 

“P-please,” The sound in your throat is tight, “I need you to fuck me,” 

“Mhm,” Mingi nods, unfazed by your sudden shift in demeanor as your heat finally starts to build, “we will, but not yet,” 

You stifle a groan and turn your head away from him, tears gathering in your eyes as Mingi’s middle finger flattens out over your clit and starts to rock. All it does is stoke heat inside you and your vision blurs, the empty pocket inside you aching like never before. “Alpha,” You sob, “it’s not enough,” 

You expect Mingi to respond, but instead it’s Yunho, cupping your cheek and drawing your face towards his, “Shh,” he shakes his head, a gentle expression on his face, “we have you, sweetheart,” 

Something in his face calms you for a moment, the feeling of his warm gaze filling you and you want nothing more than to know he likes you. Approves of you. Your breath is slight, just a whisper in your throat. 

Seeing your response he slides forwards, pressing his mouth to yours in a warm, tender kiss. His hand slips down and he brushes over your gland again to keep you at ease, “Be patient for us,” he kisses you again, “and you know we’ll knot you nice and full,” 

With a desperate pant you catch his mouth again, moaning against his mouth when Mingi finally, finally sinks a finger deep inside your aching core. 

“You’re still so tight, omega,” Mingi murmurs. He pushes a second finger inside and starts to pump them in and out, and it’s not enough, nowhere near enough, but little blooms of pleasure spark up your spine and you fall back from Yunho into the bedding once more. 

“More,” You widen your legs and cant your hips, “please, Mingi, please,” 

He presses his lips to your forehead, nuzzling you softly until his mouth is close to your ear, “You’re so beautiful, omega. Did you know that?” 

A wash of pleasure crashes through you and his fingers speed up, pushing into you more firmly, his thumb catching against your clit to heighten every thrust. You moan against him, gripping hard on his shirt and jutting your hips into his hand. 

“And so good for us,” Yunho kisses your shoulder, traveling down until lips close around one of your stiff nipples. 

“Ah,” You arch into his mouth, “ah, god,” 

“Close already, omega?” Mingi teases, shaking his head despite the smile across his lips, “Are you that sensitive?” 

“D-don’t tease me,” Hot pleasure sparks up your body and your head twists back, your body tight and stiff. 

“Then come,” Mingi bites down on your earlobe gently and you whine. 

“Do as your told,” Yunho urges you, sucking hard on your nipple and pressing your leg open wider, “our sweet little omega,” 

You come so hard your brain whites out, your ears ringing and your body trembling. After an entire week of build up to your heat, and hours of feeling like your body was being stretched out long like a rubber band, snapping apart in their hands hits you so much harder than you ever could have imagined. 

Your brain reconnects when you feel Yunho’s soft blanket tucked around your naked body, and you’re too exhausted to open your eyes, but you feel them cuddle close before you drop off into sleep drowning in cedar and cinnamon. 

You have no idea what time it is when you wake again, your brain is too foggy and pained to even check the time. All you know is desperate need, all consuming emptiness and aching. When you reach out in front of you, the bed is empty and you stifle a sob. You’re alone, they’ve left you alone. You’re alone and you’re in heat, and you thought they wanted you, but all you can feel is shame. The primal part of your brain tells you that you’re not good enough, that if you had been a better omega for them they would have stayed. You’d be good and knotted by now. 

Curling into the sheets you try to push yourself up, but find the effort even harder than before. You’re soaked in sweat, trembling uncontrollably, and the throbbing pulse of your cunt is so heady that you find yourself seeking any friction at all, squeezing your thighs tight and grinding against the balled up comforter. 

You feel a body roll behind you, shifting closer, and when you hear his groggy, sleepy groan, you almost cry in relief. “A-alpha?” You can’t move too much, too it’s too painful, but you reach back for him. 

“Hey,” Yunho’s voice is a little hoarse, and it takes him a minute to realize what’s going on, but in the early morning faded light he watches the way you’re struggling. “Oh,” he breathes, “it’s really started,” 

You nod desperately, “I need help, alpha, please,” 

“Okay,” His voice drops, and he slides across the bed to slot himself perfectly behind you, “I’m going to take care of you now,” 

“Y-Yunho,” You squeeze yourself further back into him, “I’m so empty,” 

His face is above yours now, studying your expression to try and determine if this is really it, and you don’t know where Mingi is to guide the situation but at the feeling of Yunho’s body behind yours, your will to care is fading away into nothing. He’s not touching you fast enough, and with a whimper, you twist your head in the sheets, bearing your neck and submitting. 

“Oh,” Yunho’s hands tighten on you, “oh,” 

“Please,” You press again, “it hurts, alpha,” 

His cock stiffens behind you, and you almost cry in relief, rolling your hips back against him. “Fuck,” His face drops against your hair, “oh my god,” 

“Inside me,” You beg, reaching back and tugging at his shirt, “now, please,” 

He moves so much more quickly this time, pushing down his sweats and reaching between your thighs to check you, finding you soaked with slick and aching for him. You moan when you feel the press of his cockhead against your entrance, and in one fluid motion he slides home, fully seating himself inside you. 

You’re shaking in his arms, the feeling of being this full making you almost delirious with joy. Yunho doesn’t move though. He has you pulled as close as possible so that your back is flush with his chest, arms wrapped around you and keeping you perfectly still. His forehead rests against the top of your head and you can hear his shaky breath. You need him to move, to fuck you, to fill you with pups and never leave you, but he doesn’t. 

Slowly, his hips draw back just a little before sinking forward again, thrusting inside your tight channel experimentally like he’s trying to get a feel for you. Despite how your body prepared you for this, making you wet and relaxed to be able to accommodate an alpha’s knot, the feeling of his cock stretching you open is almost enough to make you come right then and there. 

He thrusts again, slowly, and you whimper against him. You need more, and fast.

Yunho groans as he holds himself deeply inside you again, caressing your body with his free hand, “You are the best thing I’ve felt in my entire life,” 

Your brain spins, pleasure flooding you and distantly you can hear yourself asking him to knot you. You’re not prepared for what he’ll feel like fucking you in earnest. 

“Is that what my girl needs?” Yunho pants, and hand locking down over your hip to help pull your body back against his hard thrusts. 

“God, please!” Your eyes close, falling apart into the sensations of him inside you. 

He groans against you, “Tell me what you need, omega,” 

The low tenor of his voice is nothing but alpha now, his instincts guiding him just as much as yours. You’re never going to last, not if he’s going to talk to you like this. With a taut moan you beg him, “Fill me up, alpha please, knot me please,” 

His hand slides up your chest, up your neck until you’re shaking with need, and closes his fingers on your jaw until he draws your face up so he can watch your eyes. His hips shift their pace, no longer driving into you with frantic need but instead firm, deep thrusts of his cock. His eyes are blown wide with desire, his mouth falling open as he watches you falling apart on his cock, “You’re all fucking mine,” 

You nod, hot tears gathering in your eyes from the overwhelming sensation and you cry out desperately for more. 

“All mine,” He repeats and surges forwards to lock his lips on yours, “you belong to me,”

“Yes!” You choke, “I’m yours, only yours,” 

“Good girl,” He angles his hips, and on the next thrust you’re spinning fast into the crest of your orgasm. With his face pressed against you, his lips at your ear, his next words snap you open. “I’ll give you perfect pups,” He pants, his knot swelling, “I’ll breed you so full,” 

There’s nothing now but the feeling of him, all encompassing as your orgasm crashes down over you, muscles spasming around his hard length. You’re a babbling mess, but so is he, so close to coming that the first sensation as your eyes reopen is his knot pressing hard at your opening. 

He’s so large already, larger than any partner or knotting dildo you’ve ever used, and you scramble a little in his hold, “Y-Yunho, I can’t,” 

“Shh,” He holds you against him, “you can, I know you can,” 

Pushing your hips down with his broad hands, he angles himself upwards until you feel the pressure of his knot pushing past your entrance and finally slipping inside you fully. It burns, your body aching to accommodate him, but with the way he’s holding you and the throb of his cock inside you, none of that matters. 

He grinds his hips desperately into you, his knot swelling further inside you, and when he comes, releasing hot with a shuddering groan, you finally feel sated. Your body melts into him, pleasantly foggy and at ease, his knot no longer uncomfortable but essential. 

You’re finally, finally full. 

It takes time for Yunho to come back to his senses, his hands still locked on your skin and breathing shaky as he tries to regulate it. You realize now that you have a little clarity that it was his first time. Deep, instinctual need had guided him, but the longer he stays quiet, the longer you wonder if you did well for him. 

After another minute or two you find his hand and lace your fingers together, “Yunho?” 

“Yes?” He murmurs from behind you, his forehead still against your hair. 

“Can you hold me please?” You murmur, squeezing his hand. 

“Come here,” He sighs, shifting slightly to spoon you properly. As he does, the knot locked inside you shifts and you make a startled hum at the sensation. He smooths your hair back and tries to get a good look at you, “Does that hurt?” 

“No,” You shake your head, adjusting so that you’re resting on his bicep, “I just feel full,” 

“Mm,” He kisses your temple, nuzzling your skin with his nose as he breathes in your scent, “you’re perfect,” 

Warmth blooms in your chest, “So are you,” 

“I want you like that again and again,” His hand slips out of yours so that he can coast it over your body, feeling your warm skin under his hands. 

“You can have me like that again and again,” You smile, “I’ll be in heat for days.” 

“Days of this,” He sighs, his hand dipping down over your hip and settling over your stomach. He inches his fingers down, passing over your sensitive nub and feeling the place where your bodies connect, locked together. 

“Does it feel good for you too?” You murmur, a little breathy as his hand slips back over your clit. 

“I’ve never felt anything like this,” He presses closer to you, “it’s incredible,” 

You chuckle, kissing his arm and relaxing further into his touch. You’re about to agree, to say more, to confess that in truth it’s your only experience in heat that so far hasn’t been terrible, but the door to the bedroom opens and Yunho tenses. 

Mingi opens the door slowly, and Yunho pulls you close, his hand closing over your stomach and his other arm wrapping around your shoulders. It’s just Mingi, but Yunho’s brain must still be fogged with the intrinsic need to protect you and in the presence of another alpha, he can’t see that it’s just his friend. 

“Mingi,” You shake your head, feeling how tense Yunho is behind you, “give him a minute,” 

“You’re okay?” He checks, staying rooted to the spot at the door, knowing that Yunho could hurt you if he stops thinking straight and tries to defend you against the imagined threat of another alpha. 

“I’m perfect,” You assure him, “I promise,” 

“Is he?” Mingi looks anxious. 

“He’s fine,” You nod, smoothing your hand across his arm to try and relieve some of his tension, “but we need some more time.” 

Mingi nods, “Come find me when you’re done,”

“We will,” 

Mingi’s eyes flick to Yunho, “Be careful with her,” 

“I got it,” Yunho’s voice sounds strained. 

Mingi nods once, and then disappears, leaving the door open, and you suspect it's so he can hear things a little better should you need him. Yunho’s muscles unlock slowly, his thumb unconsciously rubbing a steady line over your abdomen, and he exhales heavily into your hair.   

After a while, you expect his knot to have gone down, but he’s just as locked inside you as ever. The overwhelming alpha quality though has started to fade, and you rest lazily in his arms as he plays with your fingers and waits it out. 

“Does it normally take this long?” He asks finally. 

“Not usually,” You shake your head, “but it’s your first time knotting someone properly, so it might just take a little bit.” 

“I’m sorry,” He murmurs. 

“Why?” You tug him a little closer to your back, “This is exactly what I need,” 

“Everything felt right?” He pushes himself up onto one elbow so that he can look down at you a little better, propping his head in his hand. 

“Mhm,” You assure him, “Better than right,” 

He smiles, his eyes flicking over you appreciatively. 

“What about for you?” You bring him back to center, rubbing a circle into his palm with the pad of your thumb. 

“It wasn’t what I expected,” He says honestly, and your mouth drops open. “No, no,” He cups your cheek, “I meant that it was just… much more intense than I expected. I said a lot of things to you, and I don’t know, I guess I thought that type of thing was just played up in porn,” 

“Oh,” You grin, delighted a little by the way his ears run red. 

“Yeah,” He smiles, blush creeping into his cheeks now, “I just couldn’t stop myself,” 

“Mm,” You nod, “I get it, completely. This is why I wanted to talk before I was in heat,” 

“Was it too much?” He checks in. 

“No,” You assure him, “It was just what I needed to hear, and it doesn’t mean anything outside of my heat, it’s just instinct.” 

He nods and sighs, dropping back to the bed and cuddling you close again, “Good,” he murmurs, “then don’t worry about how clingy I’m about to get,” 

“You? Clingy?” You giggle against his chest, “I don’t believe it,” 

“I’m a softie,” He shrugs, “I don’t know what to tell you,” 

“But you always seem so serious at the studio,” You murmur, “and I’ve seen you go out with a lot of women,” 

“Ah,” He laughs, “well the studio is work, and I’m responsible for a lot there. And as far as the dates,” he corrects, “I am trying to appease my mother because she desperately wants me to find a wife, which I’m not really focused on right now, but she’s pretty obstinate.” 

“Such a mystery, Jeong Yunho,” You prod him lightly. 

“Not really,” He kisses your hair, sighing into you, “I’m just a guy,” 

You hum and let your eyes drift closed as he holds you. 

He yawns and sighs again, “So, forgive me if I cuddle you to death while you’re here, like I said, softie,” 

“I’m not complaining,” You sink into his touch. 

He groans a little, his knot finally softening but he stops you when you shift your hips, “Go slow, I don’t want to hurt you,” 

“It’s okay,” You assure him, feeling the way his knot fades down into being barely there. His cock starts to soften, and you slowly ease your way forwards while he shifts his hips back, disconnecting you both with a soft wet sound. 

His release floods out of you, leaving you messy and sticky, but Yunho kisses your shoulder and shifts away, “Hold tight, I’ll get a towel,” 

He seems incredibly unembarrassed about the messy state of heat sex, which you’re eternally grateful for, and within a few minutes you’re cleaned up and dressed again in yet another pair of clean underwear and one of the largest shirts of Mingi’s that you’ve ever seen. 

“How are you feeling?” Yunho asks as you finish cleaning your face up in the mirror of Mingi’s bathroom.

“A little sore,” You tell him honestly, “and cramping a little again, but it’s not too bad yet.” 

“You want to come see Mingi then? Get out of this room for a minute?” He brushes his fingers down your back as he watches you in the mirror. 

“Perfect,” 

In the living room, Mingi is waiting. He’s pouring over with nervous energy, his leg bouncing and his fingers fidgeting with his phone, refreshing his social media feed over and over again. The television is on, but he’s clearly not watching, and instead you see him perk up at the first sounds of you emerging from the bedroom. 

“Hey,” He twists around on the couch, looking a little relieved when he sees you completely fine and cleaned up wearing one of his t-shirts. 

“Hey,” You smile, moving towards the couch, “can I sit?” 

“Of course,” He gestures towards the couch, but that’s not exactly what you meant. The sight of him waiting for you, and the palpable taste of his anxiety in the air makes you feel needed, and you push his arms open to settle in his lap. 

“Oh,” He adjusts his legs to give you a better seat and winds his arm around your back, “is everything okay?” 

“Mhm,” You take his hand, rubbing your thumb gently over the gland in his wrist to soothe him, “you can relax, I’m perfectly fine,” 

Yunho takes a seat on the opposite end of the couch, chewing the inside of his cheek as he watches you and Mingi together. With a nudge to his friend’s thigh he gets Mingi’s attention and shakes his head, “I’m sorry I snapped at you,” 

“It’s cool,” Mingi shrugs, “I know the feeling.” 

“Where did you go, anyways?” You ask, leaning into his chest. The familiarity between the three of you should feel strange, before last night you really were only coworkers to each other. You might have even become friends, but now you’ve pushed so far past that you don’t know what you are except to accept that their hands on your skin feels right. 

“I shouldn’t have left, I could feel you were getting restless,” he explains, “I went to make you some broth and get cold water, just putting a few things together, but by the time I got back you were both in it,” 

“Ah,” You blush looking down at your hands, “sorry,” 

“Don’t be sorry,” Mingi’s broad, warm hand rests on your bare thigh and gives you a subtle squeeze, “I’m glad Yunho could help. I just didn’t think it would be smart to interrupt you,” 

“Good thinking,” Yunho adds, running a hand over his face and sighing, “you were right,” 

“I told you,” Mingi nods, “it can be intense,” 

Yunho passes a hand over your shin before pushing himself back up to stand and he stretches long and tall before groaning, “Alright, I’m starving.” 

You clap a hand over your mouth, chuckling into your palm, “Classic,” 

“Can I make you something?” He asks, “Either of you?” 

Mingi shakes his head, “I’m good,” 

“Me too,” You agree, “I should be hungry, but I’m really not,” 

Mingi’s nose crinkles, “You should still eat,” 

“Maybe in a bit,” You try to appease him. 

“In a bit you’ll be jumping our bones again,” Mingi counters. 

“I know,” You sigh, “but really, I’m okay. I feel pretty good,” 

“This is really just because it’s day one right?” Yunho asks, a little less joking than before. 

“Yeah,” You nod, “day one and two are never as bad, and you definitely have more lucidity as long as you’re managing the spikes well. Day three, four, and sometimes five if it lasts that long, are usually a lot harder.” 

“How much is a lot?” Yunho asks, stepping close and running his hand over your hair, “You were already in a lot of pain,” 

“I’ll be less coherent, and the fever can be worse. I probably won’t have down time like this,” You explain, “the pain isn’t necessarily worse, it’s just more consistent,” 

He frowns, “Then you’re eating now,” 

You sigh heavily and shake your head, “Honestly, you don’t need to, I can make myself something in a bit or,” 

Mingi cuts you off and makes a dismissive noise with his tongue against his teeth, “y/n, relax. This is what we meant when we said we’d help you through your heat. It’s more than just orgasms and knots,” 

You swallow back your words, holding his gaze. 

“Alphas are meant to provide,” He reminds you, “so let us,” 

A flutter of warmth bubbles through you, and you can only nod, no use arguing now when your mind is spinning and telling you to accept. Yunho drops a quick kiss on the top of your head, before disappearing into the kitchen. You’ve never had an alpha provide, never once. In your limited experience before going on suppressants, you were used to being knotted incredibly quickly and then left alone, or having a partner that never really knew how to fully satisfy, leaving you to feverishly deal with your needs while they slept. You’ve never experienced a heat where you felt wanted before. 

You ease into Mingi’s chest, resting a head on his shoulder and letting your muscles relax for as long as you can. They make you food, massage your sore hips, and keep you distracted with stories and memories from before your time at the studio. They hold you close, and they ease your pain, they provide.

— 『 𝐖𝐎𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐖𝐀𝐋𝐋; 𝐨𝐭8 』 [6] (M)

— 𝚠𝚘𝚗 • 𝚍𝚎𝚛 • 𝚠𝚊𝚕𝚕, adjective. having someone who serves as a pillar in your life, who offers a sturdy place to lean in times of trouble. somebody you find yourself thinking about constantly and are completely infatuated with.

❝humans were such strange creatures. wretched in their mere existence. none of the eight were ever truly interested in them until they found you. they just find. it strange that despite their status and rank, you'd rather spend time with your lover. that isn't much of a problem, though. one they can fix with ease.❞

〘ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ, ᴍʏᴛʜ, ꜱᴍᴜᴛ, ꜰᴀᴇʀɪᴇꜱ〙(m.list)

— pairing: ot8 x reader, mxm (this chapter); yeosang x reader, wooyoung x reader; 12.7k

— note: this is a yandere fic. sensitive topics such as manipulation, gaslighting, murder, and other topics involved with the genre. please heed the warnings and read this work of fiction while keeping this in mind.

CHAPTER WARNINGS: murder references, manipulation, blood, torture references, dark magic, lying, emotional turmoil, injuries, slight descriptions of gore, worship references (?), smut

Chapter 6

You've grown to notice that it is never truly cold in the forest around their home. It feels as if it’s a warm bubble, unaffected by outside elements. None of the faeries ever mention it, probably accustomed to the odd temperature. You yourself are not, jacket wrapped around your waist as you walk through the small path Yeosang has taken you on. His clothing is loose, steps gliding along the slow breeze. All of them are quiet when they walk, barely the sound of a leaf crunching beneath their feet. He does not move as fast as San did when you arrived. In fact, there's little space between you, his skin close to brushing against your own.

Since you have known him, he has been indifferent to your presence. Oftentimes mulling in silence whenever you two spent time together, or glued to whatever object was around at the time. Being alone with him didn't happen often – most occasions he'd have San tied to his side, fingers wrapped around his waist, moving where he moved. Or Wooyoung lingering around you. So you're quite surprised he even wants you out here alone with him. You aren't close at all.

“The house could be quite a nuisance,” he says softly, hand sliding in yours as you climb around a protruding rock. Now that you know he can feel what you're thinking, the coincidences of him answering your thoughts aren't so shocking anymore. You expect him to let go once you’ve steadied yourself but he doesn’t, fingers entwined. “Everyone is watching your every move. San unwilling to leave your side for even a breath,” he smiles, slightly toothy grin. “Now you know how I feel.”

“It’s like he’s attached. Each time I leave the room he follows,” you say, and Yeosang snorts, nodding.

“Seonghwa warned him that he is to keep his eye on you. None of us know when you’ll–” he snaps his fingers on his free hand– “Better to be safe than sorry.”

“I’m not going to do anything.” There’s little ground to defend yourself on, but still. You can barely remember what happened then. It was a life or death situation. You doubt it'd happen now. “Just don’t try to kill me or anything.”

“Is that a threat?” he teases, brow raised. “Not to worry. I doubt any of us would do such a thing. We have morals, you know. Even as Unseelie.”

“San was explaining that to me. Between the chaos there is comfort. I can see it when you're around each other. You tease, but you do care. In different ways.”

“We do. Our inane element of chaos is fairly simple. We reign terror on human lives. It has lessened over the years now since humans aren't as inept as before. It takes time for us to ruin their lives,” he glances at you from the side. “You may witness it in person eventually.”

“Just like how you've caused it on mine?” You barely speak above a whisper, but Yeosang catches the irritated murmur, laughing softly as he helps you over a fallen tree. The sound is a bit eerie under these circumstances. You are trapped and he knows it so clearly. His laughter is evident enough of that.

“Precisely. We are almost there, human. Watch your step,” he pulls you closer to him, arm wrapped around your body, fingers light against your waist. Oddly it reminds you of Wooyoung – neither of the two's actions in consideration of the person they bother. In a way you believe that while Wooyoung touches you whenever he likes on purpose, Yeosang fails to realize there is an issue at all. He lets go when you enter the field, gracefully crossing his legs as he rests on the flower petals. You sit next to him with far less elegance, taking in your surroundings.

It is strange to see anything like this in the forest nearest your town. A small waterfall and a body of water sit in front of you, the sound of the liquid splashing filling the night. You pay no mind to how Yeosang watches you, your interest in the natural structures in front of you. A group of deer bend their necks, drinking the freshly cycled water from the pond.

“Hongjoong showed me this place when we first arrived,” Yeosang explains, head resting in his hands. “He told me that I can come whenever I like to clear my mind or hide away. He hasn't shown up here since, I'm sure out of respect for me. If you'd like I can come with you here whenever you need. I thought it would bring you some comfort amongst everything else.”

It does. Your emotions weigh heavy on you. Missing your family, mourning your lost relationship. Hurt sitting inside you with everything that's happened. You haven't gotten the chance to really let that feeling settle because you haven't had time to yourself. Though now you technically still don't, Yeosang doesn't speak. He doesn't interrupt the silence. No, all he does is stretch out his fingers, a book appearing on his palm. He flips through the pages, filling the air between the two of you.

“Thank you.”

The grass beneath you is comforting as you lie back, eyes closed. The sound of a page flipping continues.

“Thanking me is not needed.”

—

“Where did you take her?”

Yeosang barely looks up from his literature, a sigh escaping from his lips. Perhaps the two of you should have stayed out much longer. “Welcome home.”

“You can't just take her out of the house, Yeosang. We have to keep an eye on her at all times. You can't be alone without any of us near.” Seonghwa's voice is frustrated as he opens the fridge, digging through the drawers. “If she attempts to kill you we're too far away to stop it. You have to think these things through before committing to it.”

“The human isn't going to kill me, hyung,” Yeosang murmurs, frowning as he reads the next line. “Oh what a pity.”

“What?” Seonghwa turns, seeing his mate staring at the book.

Yeosang looks up, pointing to the page, “They died before meeting. They've been waiting years but they both died. It's horrific,” he shakes his head, continuing to flip through. It only gets Seonghwa more frustrated, frown on his lips soon to permanently embed itself in his face.

“You are not listening to me–”

“Oh, but I am listening perfectly, Seonghwa. I just wonder when you will finally let one of us know what's on your mind. And why you continue to lie about her to us,” Yeosang hums. “Maybe then I will give you my full, undivided attention. But for now, since you will likely respond with another lie, I will continue to read.” he looks up from his book, eyes resting on his. It makes the lump in Seonghwa's throat grow. Disappointment. Yeosang isn't like the others in that sense. He's hidden with his emotions, only letting his frustration or irritation through individual talks. Never letting another person around hear it. So now, even though they are both alone at the moment, it hurts Seonghwa to see that even with this privacy, Yeosang does not let his true feelings slip out. His hurt must be larger than he can comprehend.

It's not like Seonghwa doesn't want to say it. But solidifying his suspicions without being one hundred percent sure would only be useless. Turn them in a direction that they don't need to be in right now. They should be focused on the growing threat of Seelie entering their land, not you. You would just be a distraction between it all if you are human. And if Seonghwa is right about what you really are, then you're an asset to their team. If his spark all can fall under your charms without much effort, the Seelie are sure to fall for it. And they could finally subdue them once and for all. The only glaring problem with his plan, that is, is if you turn on them. It is the main reason why he dislikes whenever you’re left alone with just one.

“It is for a reason, Yeosang.” Seonghwa holds the tangerine in his hand, slowly peeling off the skin. “I hope you can understand.”

“We don't hide things from one another,” Yeosang says, writing into the pages of his novel. “So if you expect sympathy from me you've gone to the wrong mate. Perhaps Hongjoong, or Jongho will give you what you desire.” His brows furrow, frustration etching itself into his skin. “Now you can go. I'm getting distracted.”

Seonghwa places a tangerine in front of Yeosang's folded legs, leaving the room altogether. Once he is gone, Yeosang grabs the fruit. He stares at it, thumb running along the surface. It pierces the skin, juices sliding down his skin, spilling onto the book that rests in his lap. He sighs in frustration, tossing the fruit into the sink several meters away.

“Everything would be solved if she were dead,” he murmurs.

—

“Three.”

“Nope.”

“Less than that?”

“Much less.”

“It can't just be me, Wooyoung.”

Wooyoung grins, palm holding up his head as he looks up at you. “It's surprising, no? But it's true. All I've ever wanted, no, desired, was other faeries or creatures beyond your comprehension. Humans are only playthings to me. Meals at the end of the day. Nothing more.”

The thought makes your stomach want to fold in on itself. “You're joking?”

“Unfortunately no,” he sighs, letting his head flop down to your sheets. “Your scent is all consuming, solaris. No other human has affected me in such a way. And it wouldn't make sense to have a human partner when all I'd do is just kill them in the end.” His eyes shift to you. “I wouldn't do that to you though, I like you too much.”

“How wonderful,” Sarcasm drips from your words as he laughs. Easily speaking of killing humans, as if he's talking about playing a game. Some things you'll never get used to when hanging out with Unseelie. Their lack of care for living still makes you feel queasy. Your one murder haunts you every night, but he, no, they, thrive in it. You just cannot imagine it.

“You've overstayed your welcome,” Yeosang stands on the outside of the door, arms crossed against his chest. He nods at you, expression surprisingly warm. Since that night, Yeosang often spent time with you. He hasn't said much, as usual, but he sought you out for quiet. Wooyoung being here right now is likely the opposite of what he wants.

Wooyoung's head rolls to the side, eyes narrowing at his mate. “You bother her too much. Give solaris some space.”

“You're in her room every night,” Yeosang deadpans.

“Yes, and? She enjoys me around her, I liven up the place! Don't you enjoy me?” His pout matches the whiny tone of his voice. In the beginning it was mildly irritating, but you do enjoy it now. Not that you'd admit it to him. He'd never leave your side at that rate.

“No.”

“Solaris!” He whines, tucking himself further into your sheets. It would be humorous if it weren’t for the look Yeosang gives him.

“Leave,” Yeosang says, his voice firmer now. “Mingi and San need you.”

“On a scale of not needed at all to they're currently dying, where does the need of my presence fall–”

“Go, now.”

Mingi. You haven't seen him in a while, assuming that he was on a mission. Knowing that he's around makes you wonder a bit. He hasn't greeted you since you've arrived again. Was he afraid of seeing you? No, that couldn't be. You were afraid of him, not the other way around.

Wooyoung painfully drags himself off your sheets, sending you a quick look before moving past Yeosang. His hand reaches out and grips Wooyoung’s bicep, their eyes meeting. They often communicate without speaking, gazes flicking over one another’s before Wooyoung leaves down the hall. Yeosang turns to look at you, exhaustion easily lining his gaze. Still you envy their connection, unlike anything you’d ever experience yourself. You wouldn’t want to become an Unseelie, but their devotion to each other is formidable. If only your kind were the same. Perhaps if humans were equally bonded to one another, there’d be less infighting and more respect spread across the Earth. But of course, just wishful thinking.

“Hongjoong asked for you,” Yeosang says.

“The man of the hour,” you murmur, sighing. “Why can’t he just come here himself?”

“Believe it or not,” Yeosang smiles. “He is a bit more busy than you think. He didn’t technically ask for me to come find you, but I doubt he would find the time to leave himself. And Yunho is too preoccupied to come here. I’m the only one free at the moment.”

You lift yourself up from your seat, stepping past the small gap between Yeosang and the doorway. He shifts slightly, arm brushing against yours as you make your way around. He does not follow you promptly. You turn to look at him, his sight glued on yours.

“Something the matter?”

His expression changes, and he merely shakes his head. “Nothing. I’ll lead the way.”

—

Yeosang leaves you with him, fingers brushing against the back of your hand as he disappears down the hall. He did not try to start a conversation as you two were walking alone, briefly glancing at you from time to time. Whatever you did moments ago must have bothered him enough to not even attempt to dissolve the awkwardness resting between both of you. But you didn’t either, so there’s that.

You slowly enter, your steps echoing as you move further inside. You’ve been inside Hongjoong’s office once before, but never in his room. It is nothing like you expected it to be - no torture devices hanging from the walls. Instead, vinyls resting on clear displays, cds in between each one. In fact, there were several instruments decorated all about, some you couldn’t even recognize yourself. Many likely hundreds of years old. This is his place, his mind. The thought of peering into his personal space, his mind, even if ever briefly, makes you anxious, goosebumps rising on your skin as you take yourself further in. It can’t be that bad.

He at least tolerates you enough to have you still around.

“Why are you here?”

You turn to the side, Hongjoong hunched over at his desk, pen dragging across stationary as he writes. He does not look up so you can only assume he heard your loud steps enter his room. The notebook he writes in is well-worn, corners curved in and cover peeling. His eyes briefly meet yours after you don’t speak, brow raised in expectation. “Well?”

“Yeosang told me you wanted to see me.”

He rolls his eyes, staring at his writing before ripping out a page, crumbling it up and snapping his fingers. The paper engulfed in flames before flickering into ashes, sliding off his table and into the bin beneath. “Yeosang tells everyone a lot of things, that does not mean it’s true. You’ll learn to not listen to his words after a while. He’s quite mischievous,” he murmurs.

“Then I am not needed?” You’re thankful, really. Being in his space, his scent, creates a strange feeling within you. There’s a reason you avoid him, more than just being afraid.

Hongjoong stands, throwing his notebook off his table. You take a step back just as he moves forward, too fast for you to leave his sight. His hands grip your body, pulling you close to him.

“Personal space is a thing, Hongjoong.”

“You want me to speak to you, truly?”

You try pulling away but his hold only tightens. So instead of fighting a losing battle, you speak through tight lips, “Say what you have to say.”

“What is it you want me to say? That I would follow you everywhere, until your steps become my own, until your breaths mingle with mine? There's no need for that. There is no where you will go that will be where I am not. It is all but that simple.” He cradles your face in his hands, thumbs rubbing against the skin. It takes everything in you not to flinch. “That is all I need, and it is all you’ve wanted. We will no longer be separated; you won’t be left alone. Is that what you want?”

What is he even saying? The more he trails on, the more fear begins to circulate your veins. He does not seem to notice it, so he continues when greeted with silence. “Soobin is no longer an issue since he’s gone. You’re free to desire whomever you want without him holding you back.”

His name pulls you out of your confusion almost instantaneously. “He was my partner, Hongjoong,” your brows furrow. “He’s the reason I’m even in this town in the first place. Why would he be holding me back? I love him.” And it’s true. There has been a bit of wavering in your love, and he broke your heart not too long ago. Mourning a love lost is one thing, but losing that love for him completely is entirely different.

You don’t see the way his mouth twitches at the word love. What you do see, though, is the way his eyes narrow. “He’s gone.”

“Love doesn’t just disappear when I no longer see him.”

“Then how will it? Must he come to you and say he hates you? Will he have to attempt to hurt you for it to go away? Why do humans continue to love someone who’s left them? Why can’t you let him go?” What else does he have to do? Should he have manipulated the human’s mind before they killed him? Made him break your heart? He thought Mingi’s appearance was enough to stop your mind from lingering on him. But it seems like it has done little.

You stare at Hongjoong as he loses himself in his thoughts. You’ve believed in inherent goodness, but there’s always been this underlying fear of them, just for the nature of them being Unseelies alone. Knowing that despite all of what they say, it’s something they can’t change. It’s something you’ve settled with. But hearing his words, the way his eyes shake as he looks at you… something tells you that he’s off. That despite their comfort and sympathy, they know what happened to Soobin.

An even smaller part of you believes that they’ve done something to him.

“Why do you care?”

He does not respond, waiting for you to continue. In the position you are right now, it’s hard not to.

“It’s hard to,” you explain, choosing your words carefully. “I’ve known him since we were children, and even if I didn’t love him in the romantic sense, I still would love him as a former friend. It hurts to just lose a friendship like that.”

"If I killed it would you forget him?"

You still. His touch is ever so delicate as he waits for your response. Eyes warm, blinking slowly. It's as if he didn't just say he'd do something so heinous, so unthinkable.

"What?" Is all you can respond with.

He leans closer to you, barely a breath away from your lips. His eyes flick over your face, before landing back on your eyes. "If I killed your weak, miserable, disgusting, incompetent, lackluster ex-partner, as you call it, will you forget then? Will you mourn its loss then come into my arms? Will you love me as you love it?"

It. Perhaps his mask slid down just a bit.

"You're out of your mind."

"I am very much sane, y/n. It's a simple question with an even simpler answer."

"No."

"No…?"

"I wouldn't forgive you if you killed him, Hongjoong."

He rolls his eyes, a huff echoing around the room. "How boring and mundane. I thought you were more amusing than that." He moves away from you now, grabbing his notebook he threw across the room. “Yeosang was right, I did want to speak to you. Not yet, but I suppose I have little reason to keep it to myself. Seonghwa suspects that you are not human.”

He moves on from the moment as if it never happened, as if he did not threaten your old partner. The subject change easily distracts you though, the idea so otherworldly that you scoff. Hongjoong snickers at the sound, standing up. “You make that incredulous sound but Seonghwa has rarely ever been wrong in his findings. You may not be as human as you think.”

“I’m only human, Hongjoong. There’s nothing else to it.”

“That you know of,” he adds, placing his book back on his table. “You’ve lived as a human your whole life you know nothing other than that. Of course you’d think the thought silly.”

“What do you want me to say? First you threaten my old partner and now you say that I’m not human? Do you want me to beg at your knees and tell you that it’s not true?”

“The thought of you on your knees in front of me isn’t unappealing,” he chirps.

“You’re,” you hold your tongue. It’s not the smartest thing to do - insulting an Unseelie in their territory. Hongjoong is unhinged already, no need to push him further into his madness. But you cannot help yourself. “You’re disgusting.”

He shrugs, “That’s not the worst insult I’ve ever heard. You've overstayed your welcome, you can go.” His hand waves you off, giving you his back completely. Though you expect nothing less from him, it still feels humiliating. But there's nothing you can do. Not now. You decide it's best to just leave completely, door slamming behind you as you exit the room. Yeosang lingers outside, book closing when you walk past him. He reaches out for your arm but you shove his touch off, making your way to your room.

You don't quite notice how hard you’ve pushed him, his body thumping against the wood. Yeosang looks down at his hand. How his fingers curl into themselves. You pushed him off. Strength formidable to his own with just a spike in your anger. He does not follow you but instead, enter the room you just left.

—

“He is an Unseelie. It is not unlike him to thrive off of your anger and frustration. It's tantalizing, the energy oozing from humans. It is fun for us,” Wooyoung's laying on your bed once again, arms folded beneath his head, eyes on the ceiling. “It tastes wonderful, though not as good as fear.”

“Doesn't really ease my nerves,” you say, flipping through the book he handed you. It's something he grabbed from Jongho, the scrawny writing etched into the pages. You snicker at the jabs he adds in, his notations growing more humorous as you turn pages. It's distracting enough for now. A hand covers the writing, Wooyoung's pout forcing you to stop. You shut the book, placing it on your side table. “He is annoying, Wooyoung. I don't think I'll last here long with him constantly saying shit and me not being able to say anything back.”

“You can argue with him, solaris. He won't kick you out.” He sees your expression, sighing. “We all do it, and none of us have left yet–”

“You are his mates, his spark. He wouldn't throw you out because of an argument. I have nothing left if I leave, Wooyoung. My family would be in danger, Soobin would be in danger, right when I step outside someone is waiting to kill me. It's exhausting to think about.”

“You have to learn to put yourself first instead of worrying about others,” he says. “And your family is as safe as they can be right now. They do not remember you, and you’ve been pulled from their lives. If a Seelie truly digs for it they will find them, but we will know before anything happens,” Wooyoung presses his finger against his temple. “I’ve got them on my radar.”

“You’re only confusing me more.”

“A spell, solaris. I’m keeping my eye on them every second. You’ll know if anything is amiss. Unfortunately though, I’d rather not update you on mundane things. It’ll make letting them go harder to bear.”

You do not agree with his method of lessening your worry, but you’d rather not argue with another Unseelie, too distraught from the last conversation to probe any further. You sink yourself deeper into the seat, closing your eyes. His silence is enough to make you open a lid, meeting the eyes of the Unseelie who continues to stare. You shake your head, closing them once more.

“Taking a picture would be better than you just staring.”

“Is that a joke or can I really take a photo?”

This time both of your eyes open, moving to him. He hasn’t moved from his spot, the devilish grin still on his face as he laughs. “I was kidding.”

“How unfortunate.”

You hum in agreement, eyes closing again. Since Wooyoung is often lingering around your room and having time to yourself is only reserved for late nights, San hasn’t really come around anymore. Sometimes he’d show here and there, but only for a quick once over and disappearing back to wherever he spends his time. It’s why you’ve grown used to Wooyoung threatening to tear your door down if you don’t let him in. Sure, it’s a bit concerning and mildly threatening, but he hasn’t done anything nefarious. Flirting here and there, maybe a bit of annoying banter, but you enjoy it. He’s one of your only companions that you have, even if you were essentially forced to live with him.

Your mother wouldn’t let you out of her sight if she knew.

“Do you like me around, solaris?” he asks after a moment.

“No.”

“If that is truly what you think, you don’t have to say yes and allow me to enter your room if you’re not comfortable with it.”

Nope. You don’t want this conversation to happen now. Not when you’re still figuring this out, trying to decipher what your feelings are for him. “I’m… fine with you being around, Wooyoung. You’re fun to hang around with.”

“As friends?” He asks. You hear the creak of your bed and immediately open your eyes. He sits on the edge of it, eyes looking through the open porch door. He does not look at you and yet, you feel like his attention is focused on the beats of your heart, the sound of your breaths. “Do you consider me a friend?”

“I don’t know.”

And it is true. You’re not sure how to classify your relationship with him. You’re friends, maybe. But it would be a lie if you were just that. He’s open with his own feelings, how much he wants you to want him. You just… don’t understand how he could want you so badly when he has seven other mates to focus on. And from what you know, despite Hongjoong’s slip of information, you’re a human. There’s nothing truly special about you aside from your little blip a while ago.

“Are you afraid of me?”

This is one you can answer with ease. “Yes.”

He turns around to look at you. It’s hard to see his face, the sun shining on the back of his head draping his face in darkness. You can barely see through the rays yourself. You watch as he stands, a slight step towards you. You follow his movements, though making no move to back up or go forward.

“That’s good, to be afraid of me,” he murmurs. “Perhaps you are not as clueless as we’ve previously thought. Being on guard around us, holding your feelings close. It is good.”

“What are you getting at, Wooyoung?”

“What I’m getting at is that you fear us, I can see it. I see how you interact with everyone, with me. But we both know how you feel about me. Even if you cannot say it yourself.” he moves even closer to you. But instead of standing in front of you, he slowly goes down on his knees. “If I am so terrifying to you, will this change things? My submission to you?”

He reaches up, his hands slowly holding yours in his grip as he places them on either side of his cheek. His eyelashes flutter once they touch his skin, a slow, clear groan escaping his parted lips. “It could be so easy for us. You could be mine, and I yours,” he whines.

“You have mates, Wooyoung. There’s no need for me.”

“They do not mind my yearn for you, if that is what you are worried about. None of them do. We all love each other differently, in different ways. My care for you is nothing like my care for them, but it does not have to be. You are different.”

Oh no.

You hold his face in your hands, fingers shakily stroking the tan of his skin, brushing against the mole beneath his eyes. They remain focused on you, lips trembling beneath each caress. You can hear your heart in your ears, pumping violently against your ribcage. It is familiar. A feeling you haven’t felt in a while.

You might just be in love with him.

And it is terrifying.

The revelation is alarming, swelling. It frightens you each passing second. You love him dearly. How has he worked himself into your heart? Is this coercion? Maybe he’s manipulated you to the point of no return. It is reasonable to think so. Before you were terribly frightened of his presence around you, aware that at any moment they may decide to drag their lengthened nails into your chest, killing you. And yet here you sit, Wooyoung crouched beneath you, his nails leaving indents in your thighs from how desperate his hold is, his warm, aroused eyes flicking between yours. The gasps leave your lips as his hands travel closer and closer to you. Right now you are not as afraid of him, not completely.

How could you love someone so easily when you lost the man you thought you were going to marry not too long ago? It should have been harder to fall for his charms. It shouldn’t have happened so quickly at all; and yet here you are.

Your thumb presses lightly into his lips, the flick of his tongue eagerly dragging on the pad of it. Never in your life have you seen such desperation from a partner, such eagerness to have you. It is a wonder you’ve held yourself strong for such a long time when he is so willing under your touch. Is it sinister to want this to continue? Knowing who he is, who they are.

“You are pretty,” the words leave your mouth without much thought. His body shudders at your words, leaning forward, head pressing into your stomach. His hands leave your thigh, wrapping around the curve of your waist, pulling you closer to him.

“Am I?” His breaths hitch, yearning lining and enfolding itself around two simple words. You have yet to kiss him, to taste his mouth, and he is distressed for you. Touch on your skin, but it is not enough for him. His head tilts up, pupils covering his irises completely. “Am I pretty to you?”

He slowly rises, warm, trembling body moving closer and closer to you. His hands stay on your hips as he hovers over your body, chest rising and falling quickly. Your hands leave his face and cup his neck instead. You are not unaware of how his breath hitches as you hold him. He leans forward, lips lightly brushing against your chin.

“Am I?” There is a pause in his movements. His unwavering despair to have you is not unknown, but he pauses. As if waiting for your approval to move further. A bit humorous how now he is holding himself back when he is so close to having you. “I want you to say it to me, solaris. Tell me.”

“You’re pretty, Wooyoung.”

His lips waste little time in covering yours, tongue entering your mouth immediately. His lips tremble as he tastes you, hands moving to the back of the chair to hold himself steady. The freestanding furniture slides against the floor, hitting the wall behind it as he pushes himself closer and closer to you.

You are overcome with the feeling of not knowing him, of not knowing his touch, his desperate breaths mixing with yours, his teeth sinking into your lips, begging for reprieve. He almost swallows you whole with his eagerness, hands wrapping around your body, pulling you into him. His strength lifts you from the seat entirely, your legs wrapping around him as he presses you against the wall. He lets his lips leave yours, tongue tracing down the slide of your neck, moans loud. It is not surprising he is a vocal lover, and for a moment embarrassment settles within you at the thought of one of the others entering the home, hearing his voice echoing down the halls.

“I do not care,” he murmurs against your skin, “Let them listen to me worshiping you.”

You're unable to speak.

“Would it bother you? For them to hear me kiss you from your neck to your feet, everything in between? Is it so wrong for me to want my palms to burn beneath your touch?”

You laugh at the suggestion, “I am no God that you’d be burned by my touch.”

He smiles against your skin, “How is that possible if I pray to you each night? Do they not say to worship in the low light?” his lips press against the tips of your fingers, teeth dragging across the skin. “You should have heard my prayers, solaris. I am an extremely devoted servant to you.”

“Wooyoung,” Somewhere in between sacrilegious and obscene, his chest rises with laughter.

“For you alone I am weak, solaris. For you, I will crawl, I will beg,” his lips leave your fingers, “San is not the only Unseelie who is violently devoted to the brink of utter obsession, solaris. Can you not feel mine?” His tongue drags against the skin of your collarbone, your body trembling beneath the wet touch. His hands have never left your hips, nails digging into the skin. You are too involved to feel how they slightly puncture, his longing words distracting. “Can you feel how devout I am to you? How gloriously blessed I am to be touching your skin?”

His hands release you for the briefest of moments, wrapping around your torso as he moves away from the wall. The walls around you shift, your mind lost for a moment. You blink, only a moment to glance around and see that you're in fact, no longer in your room. That he pulled you through the thin threads of reality into his. Wooyoung is ever so impatient, letting your body fall against his bedsheets.

“I think I prayed enough,” he continues, staring down at you. “You might have finally heard me beg to see you like this. How lucky I am to be the one to see you like this,” he leans over, brushing his thumb against your cheek. “But I need you to do something for me.”

“Okay,” you say. The words come out with certainty you didn't know you possessed for him, breathless and accepting of anything he may suggest. His lips lift, but you see that it does not entirely reach his eyes. You lean up, and he sits back down on the floor. Looking up at you. Just as you're about to sit yourself next to him, his hand stops you, shaking his head.

“I need you to tell me what to do to you.”

“Tell you what to do?”

“I can't do it myself. I can't do anything to you myself.” The tone of his voice is strange now. It is as desperate as before, but there is something else between the words. You do not know him well enough to even guess what it may be, why he truly needs you to guide him. But his despair is apparent, the way his hands tremble as they begin to hold your thighs, tears coating the brim of his lids. It is merely a guess, but it feels like he can only move further with your exact words. Your precise permission.

It should not frighten you how much control, even if facetious, you have over him.

“Please solaris.”

“I have to?” You whisper, and he nods.

“It is as I have said. I follow your word.” His hold is lighter now as he waits. “I cannot indulge in your sweetness without permission.”

You grow weary as he continues his explanation.

“The corruption is not merely just a surface level. None of the Unseelie can, not without word from the other partner. Though we reign in chaos, we cannot do activities like this without explicit permission. I need you, I do. But I need you to need me too.” His touch is claw-like, fingertips tracing the marks upon your skin, lips tantalizing as they drag over your knee, breathes tickling the small hairs. “Do you need me?”

You have only been the sun to him. It is no wonder he is so vehement on you aching for him a tenth of how he craves you. You can see it in his eyes, the darkened gaze settling on you, the cage preventing him from moving further. The thought is comforting perhaps, though you'd never suggest that he'd do such a thing, but knowing that Unseelie are unable to force themselves upon someone. Nature is still balanced.

You are the sun to him, his solaris. What he is to you…

You have yet to figure out.

He nods at your question long forgotten, hands unmoving as you lean down. He holds his breath as you place your hand at the bottom of his chin, tilting his head up to entirely look at you. Submitting to you.

“I want you all over me, Wooyoung.”

His hands drag your legs forward, thighs spread apart. His body could crack a hole in the floor with how much he trembles in anticipation. His fingers change, nails lengthening. You watch in awe as they turn into claws, easily sliding through the material of your shorts, tossing it to the side.

“I've thought endlessly of how I would have you beneath me,” the words are barely let out as he pulls you closer to him, arousal dripping from his words. “Your lips desperately pleading for me, wanting me. How you would let me do anything to you.” His words are coated in lust, lips hovering over where you desire him most. “Can I taste you, y/n?”

“Please.”

His lips cover your clit, smacking together from the wetness that clings to them. Your fingers glide into his soft locks, tugging lightly as his tongue enters you. His moans into you are loud, the tug in your stomach tightening, worsening when you feel his fingers gripping your thighs, tongue finding your most sensitive point with ease.

You attempt to lift your head to see him, your gaze falling on his helmet of hair between your thighs, nestled. Soft whines spilled from your lips as you place your head back down on the sheets, the silk forcing your touch to only grip him. Your thighs tighten as you beg him for something you’re not sure of, his movements continuing until you tug a bit harder on his hair to pull him away. His shadow slides up your form, “I’m not just done with you, solaris.”

He lifts your head, pressing a light kiss just beneath your ear. “I haven’t had enough of you yet. You are godly, and yet I cannot help but sin,” his breath was hot as he exhales onto your skin, goosebumps left in his wake as he moves back to where he once was. His fingers tremble slightly against your skin, his hooded eyes resting on yours as he leaned back down, lips wrapped around your clit once more.

Wooyoung’s hand grips and tugs at your thigh. You blink once more, a field of clovers beneath the two of you. The evening sun is low in the sky, peeking through the trees, the sunlight leaving a streak across his cheeks, brown eyes lighter. He practically glows, eyes shining with need, tongue between his lips to softly flick over your bud. The pull in your cunt grows once more, stronger and stronger as his eyes flutter close. Leaves rustle, a warm breeze brushing against your skin.

“My solaris, how do I shine for you?” he whispers. The simple sentence along the return of his lips to your lower ones make your muscles grow tight, a soft moan vibrating up your throat once relief and warmth began rushing beneath your skin. Wooyoung holds you close as you tremble, lips still wrapped around you as you climax once more, unable to let your grip on his hair go, pressing him harshly into you.

His eyes are warm as they look up at you, your body covered with your shirt, chest rising and falling slowly. His lips are slow, peppering kisses along the inside of your thigh, “how are you? still with me?”

You swallow slowly, struggling to find yourself after what happened. A few seconds pass before you can speak, “Yes. Yes, I’m fine.”

He laughs, continuing the seemingly never-ending drag of his soft lips up her stomach, his fingers pushed under your shirt to glide it up. They’re soft, warm as your lift your hands away from his hair and up, allowing him to see all of you. The last person that’s seen you this vulnerable was Soobin, and before that… not many. His eyes are glazed over as he takes in your exposed chest, his index finger tickling your skin as he lightly moves around the flesh of your breast. “Just for me?” He leans forward, cheek pressed against the soft flesh, trembling. “You’re more than what I’ve ever imagined.”

“Wooyoung…” Your mouth is dry as you let his name leave your lips, the word coming out rougher than you intended it to. He groans, shaking his head slightly.

“I would never tire of hearing you say my name like that,” he murmurs. “It is a shame the others cannot hear since we are so far.”

You look around as he slips his fingers into one of your free hands. The field is small, likely near where Yeosang brings you every once in a while. The thought makes you wonder – he did say that no one knew of the place aside from Hongjoong and himself. How could Wooyoung know to bring you here?

“Your thoughts move elsewhere, are you alright?” His eyes are coated with concern, hand lifting to brush a thumb against your cheek. “We can stop if it’s too much for you.”

“No, no everything is fine.” It may be that Yeosang let this private place slip his tongue while speaking with him. And perhaps Wooyoung found it as beautiful as you did and decided to bring you here. You let those thoughts settle within you as he leans down, his lips pressing against your jaw. A hum vibrates against his lips, your moment of confusion slipping away once he lines himself up and pushes forward, just enough to have your eyes widening almost immediately. You expect the impact to at least ache, but it feels warm and soft and full.

“So warm, my solaris. Made just for me, yes?” His entrance is slow, his hand that cradles your face sliding to your shoulder. “I need to ask, solaris.”

He leans forward, lips pressing against your forehead as he pushes deeper. “We… I feed on life. On human life. And you are full of it, pretty. So so beautiful and holy and bright.”

His words make no sense, a question still not uttered. “What are you saying, Wooyoung?”

“Can I taste you?” His hands slide down to your waist as he finally fully enters. They glow a dark orange against your skin, his eyes on yours. “It would be just a small taste. It wouldn’t kill you. It will feel good, solaris. You will feel good.”

The question is still vague, but even with you clouded mind, you can pick through the mess of words. A low moan comes from you as he pulls out slightly, entering again. “You want to eat my soul?”

“A sliver, it will barely be missed.”

“…Okay.”

The fear disappears once his lips cover yours, tongue entering your mouth as his hips set a steady rhythm. “You’ll love it.” You begin to keen under him, feeling wave after wave of heat surrounding the two of you, the sound of birds above you chirping as he takes you. The ache entering through you from the pleasure his cock pressing in and out of you and the sensation of being beneath his torso. His fingers gripping your waist break skin, and then you see it. The orange light that you presumed was spilling through his fingers was not him, no. It is you, your aura surrounding the two of you. Wooyoung’s pace almost doubles at the sight, the smell woodsy and sweet. The mop of black hair seeps into a orange color as it swirls through the air, eyes matching. It is a sight to see between pleasure, you, yourself, seen in an unknown light. Just as he pulls away from your lips, your soul enters your skin again.

His brows furrow, but he does not comment on it, instead, lifting up onto his hands to find another angle, sighing in relief it once your knees were up at his sides, feet hooked around his waist. The question as to why he cannot feed on you lingers.

“Perhaps my sin is too much for a soul like yours,” he whispers, dropping his weight down onto his elbows, then further, arms wrapping around you. “I will enjoy you nonetheless.”

“What are you–”

His hips press harshly into yours just as you begin to speak, watching as your eyes roll back, lids fluttering. You’re not quick to notice a hot tear falling down your cheek, rolling down your temple, lost in the darkness as his cum seeping out of his tip slowly but surely began melting your senses into nothing. The sound of skin begins echoing in the air and trees, his knees sliding up to push his thighs against you, pressing him deeper. You slowly lose your sense of the world you, focused on his cock pressing into you, his arms around you as you writhe with each thrust.

“So pretty,” he murmurs. “You always shine brightly, solaris, and yet you shine even moreso. How am I to keep my hands off you now that I’ve finally had you?” The sound of his voice is lost in between the sounds of skin slapping, the way he rocked into her body.

“Then don’t,” you say.

His eyes widen briefly, the orange fading as they meet yours. You somehow find the strength to keep focused on him despite how intensely your climax is coming. It’s the first time you’re unable to read his expression, perhaps a tint of wonder if you could focus. After a few seconds your thighs tighten, gasps leaving your lips. “Wooyoung–”

“Just like that pretty, just for me.”

Your head falls back, straining to let out the moan that clawed its way up, vise forming around his cock until he couldn’t take it anymore.

“Hell,” he grits, hips stilling as he cums, stuttering with each succeeding one. Your breaths escape your lips, lids heavy as you feel his own lips press lightly against yours.

—

“It has been hours since they were together, and he has still not let her leave his room. Should she not eat?” Yunho murmurs. They can see how his annoyance has gathered around him, hand gripping the apple between his fingers tightly, brows furrowed enough to become one. He is right – neither you nor Wooyoung has left his room. Seonghwa and maybe San could break the barrier that he has placed around his resting place, but neither wants to. Only making Yunho grow more irritated.

“They were together, Yunho. Let them simmer in it before they're told the news,” San rubs his arm, presses a soft kiss against his temple. “It is soon to be ruined once they enter a shared space.”

“He’s not going to move on from this,” Hongjoong sighs, eyes closed as he tucks himself further into the couch cushions. “I’m not ready to hear him boasting everyday about something I don’t care about in the slightest. San you might have to whip up a spell to shut him up.”

“I doubt he’d say anything outlandish-”

“Good afternoon~” His warm voice echoes through the room as he enters, almost floating as he glides along the tiles to the fridge. He presses his lips against Yunho and San’s cheeks while he passes by, the ghost of his magic roaming over Hongjoong’s arm and squeezing it. “Lovely day.”

Hongjoong’s lip twitches, but he makes no move to respond to Wooyoung’s words, annoyance already riddling his features. Yunho glances at Wooyoung, watching as he sings a song, pulling ingredients from open drawers and cabinets. No one says a word in response aside from San, easily wrapping his arm around his waist and pressing a kiss to his mate’s temple.

“We haven’t seen you in almost a day.”

“Busy. And solaris is hungry, and I assume the rest of you are,” he places his utensils on the counter. “Ready for some human food?”

All of their faces wrinkle in disgust at his words, a chuckle draping his lips as he rolls his eyes. “It wouldn't hurt you to feed on things other than humans.”

“It tastes of chalk and sadness,” Yunho mumbles, watching as he coats the pan with butter. “And smells rancid.”

“Whatever, you're missing out on the joys in life. Sweets aren't the only thing that tingles the taste buds.”

“You would know,” San is barely heard as he bites on the apple slice, but it is audible enough for their joint laughter. “I'm surprised you haven't spilled your secrets yet. Not often do you keep your escapades to yourself.”

“I’m not going to brag, I would never kiss and tell.”

Yunho’s eyes narrow. “You do, in fact, kiss and tell. That’s all you do actually, I’m surprised you were even able to let that lie slip.”

Wooyoung sticks out his tongue, tapping the pepper into the pan. “Well not now. Solaris is too special for me to discuss things like that around you all. A star that glows like her demands privacy.”

“Did she threaten you?” Hongjoong snickers, peeking out a lid when he doesn’t hear an immediate response. “Oh? She did?”

He frowns. “Not necessarily. I would just like to keep it quiet. It's not just between us eight now, she’s different. Humans are more private. I don't want her uncomfortable.”

“Honorable,” Yunho notes. “Perhaps you have grown.”

“There’s barely a hundred years between us,” Wooyoung deadpans, narrowing his eyes. “I’m not as young as you think I am.”

—

“They were together.”

“Correct.”

“And you have no qualms with that?”

“They are not young and we are not responsible for their actions, Seonghwa. I don’t care what they do in their free time. You’re just upset that she wasn’t with you first as all. She likely would have if it weren’t for that disgusted look you give her every time you’re in a room together.”

“She’s not a commodity to be passed around, Hongjoong. I don’t care if she is with me first or not at all. All that I’m saying is, it’s irresponsible to ignore it.”

If Hongjoong’s eyes could roll further back they would. He closes his notebook slowly, looking up at Seonghwa. “What do you suppose we do, then? Place a chastity belt on Wooyoung, perhaps cuff him to his bed so that he cannot move near her? Ship him off to Yeonjun himself to deal with?”

  “That is not what I’m saying at all. You treat this like it’s a joke,” Seonghwa frowns.

“What you’re suggesting is a joke. I’m not stopping either of them from indulging in one another. I didn’t expect Wooyoung to win her over so soon, but it was inevitable. You hid your suspicions from them, but even with it, it would only make it more enticing for him. He does not back down from a challenge. Especially one he is so obsessed with.”

“You told me to keep it to myself,” Seonghwa rubs his temple, breathing deeply. “I was going to tell them-”

“You still could have. You still can. What I said was a suggestion, nothing more.”

There is no use in arguing with him, Seonghwa thinks. Hongjoong knows what his suggestions are - oftentimes there are threats hidden beneath them. And though he loves him more than life itself, he cannot stand how nonchalant Hongjoong can be. Even if the human, you, does not know your true nature yourself.

“Fine.”

Hongjoong smirks, “That was much easier to deal with.”

“I will tell them tonight. All of them.”

Hongjoong’s smirk twitches. Seonghwa is not looking at him directly, so he does not see the slight dip in his expression, “You will?”

“As you said, it was merely a suggestion. Perhaps their minds will change once they all know of her true nature. And we can finally kill her.”

“You want her dead?”

Never. The thought forms bile in his mouth. “I’d rather not touch her at all. But what other choice do we have? She will kill us all if we let her stay. It is the best decision right now.” He found you, he tracked you down. If he killed you in the beginning despite the resistance to their powers, perhaps it would have saved him from the guilt that begins to riddle his body. He should not care for a creature like you, knowing it is what you do. And still, with knowing, he cannot stop it from happening. Which is why he needs to tell the rest of them.

“They won’t let you kill her. Most have already succumbed to her charm.”

“... I will do what I must to keep us safe.”

Hongjoong shrugs, “Then so be it. You have no objection from me. I’ve grown wary of her being around anyway. Humans are too… irritating.”

“Not a human.”

“Right. I won’t let the others know of my opinion and side with the majority.”

“Sometimes, they would like to hear what their leader thinks, Hongjoong.”

He pauses for a moment. “It will influence their decisions too much for me to say what I want.”

“And you think your thoughts do not influence mine?” Seonghwa asks, genuinely curious. Hongjoong laughs at the question, shaking his head.

“Seonghwa, I've known you for hundreds of years. You’d rather throw yourself in front of a deadly attack than take my opinion over your own. It is settled.”

—

You sit near the back of the room, Wooyoung’s presence wrapped around the headrest of the chair you occupy. No one else has approached you, though you sensed the lingering eyes of Yunho to the side of you. He gave you a smile when you entered, the slight downturn of his lips as he met Wooyoung’s gaze obvious. It did make you nervous that it was somehow your fault he looked furious. But the expression was gone with a blink.

“Mingi won’t be joining us, but he already informed me of his opinion prior to our meeting,” Hongjoong says, sliding past the rest and sitting in the loveseat farthest away from the entrance. His eyes bore into yours, oddly twinkling. “It will be kept in mind as we’re voting.”

“And what is it that we’re voting on?” Yunho asks.

“It has taken me a while to consider what has been going on the past few months, and how it affects all of us, including y/n,” Seonghwa does not meet your eyes as he speaks, staring at an unoccupied couch. “Our voting today is to decide if she lives or dies.”

Silence falls over the room. Your own chest tightens, palms growing moist as the seconds tick by. Kill you? Has what you’ve done destroyed their relationship with other faeries to the point of no return? Seonghwa’s reluctance to even be near you was not only for disgust like you thought before, but something deeper. Hongjoong wasn’t lying when he told you that they believed you to be not human. But you’re not hiding anything yourself. Being anything but human just feels impossible.

“You’re joking?” Wooyoung stands up from where he is behind you, slightly stepping forward. “She’s done nothing wrong.”

“She killed Beomgyu, Wooyoung.”

“So? I kill faeries and humans all the time! Why should that matter?”

“You know why,” San speaks this time, shaking his head. “It has caused us many problems. But Seonghwa, killing her? What use is that to us?”

Seonghwa sighs. “She is not entirely human, that’s why.”

Their gazes all meet yours from across the room. Even Wooyoung, his valiant effort to coax them into saving your life, expression drops slightly, confusion coating his gaze. As if questioning the validity of everything you’ve told him. Somehow that look makes you feel utterly guilty, despite not believing in his claim.

“I am a human,” you retort. “That, whatever happened at that time, it wasn’t… it was me, but it was a fluke. An adrenaline rush.”

“How can we assume she’s not human just because she killed a Seelie?” Yeosang asks. His expression remains neutral, potion book placed face-down on the counter. “Strength like that is not uncommon in humans.”

“Correct, but we all know that a human cannot tear apart a Seelie, especially the way Beomgyu was. His body was unrecognizable, torn to shreds. Someone with her size and strength, even with a burst of adrenaline could not take a Seelie down like that. She would have to know weaknesses, have weaponry-”

“It is unlike you to say allegations without undeniable truth,” Jongho interrupts him. “So I believe what you’re saying, hyung. What is she, if not a human?”

It’s interesting how despite being in the same room with them, they all ignore your presence entirely, speaking amongst themselves. Likely because you can lie with ease and without restraint. They won’t believe a word that comes out of your mouth, anyway, except maybe Yunho or Wooyoung.

“Now this may bother you all. But there is no other explanation. She is a kumiho.”

“That’s impossible-”

“It isn’t,” Seonghwa interrupts Wooyoung before he begins, holding up a hand. “We are real, so it is not too far gone to believe in something that was once unreal to us. There are still beings out there that we do not know of. Her strength, the claw marks on the dead Seelie. She has not turned on the full moon and her blood does not contain any sort of wolf characteristics. Kumiho can blend amongst humans the easiest after they have lived over a thousand years. It is not unrealistic to assume that she has moved past that point and become a human woman.”

“She hasn’t even attempted to lure any of us.” Wooyoung narrows his eyes. “Nor has she eaten human flesh.”

“That we know of.”

You can only scoff, shaking your head. “This is unreal.”

“There is no other explanation. Your strength is formidable to our own. Likely, the feline creature hiding inside this human appearance in front of us has prevented itself from remembering what it was. For protection or otherwise - we have yet to find out.”

Wooyoung’s gaze wavers the longer he listens to Seonghwa’s explanation. In fact, it seems that each of them believes everything that comes from his mouth. But it is impossible. What would be the reason for hiding your true being from yourself?

“Now we vote, then,” Hongjoong starts. “Mingi has voted yes to kill her. Seonghwa?”

“It is what needs to be done, yes,” Seonghwa agrees.

“Yunho?” Hongjoong asks, turning to him.

His gaze is on the floor, thinking. After a few seconds passed, “No. I don’t think she’s a threat to us. We keep her alive.”

Hongjoong looks at Yeosang.

Yeosang ponders the thought as everyone discusses loudly amongst one another. His eyes meet yours across the room, just being Wooyoung as he seemingly protects you with his body. You look afraid. Your eyes move to each person as they speak, your nerves palpable enough to be tasted in the thickened air. If he himself agrees to your death, it is likely that San would agree. Neither of them truly differ in opinion on things like this. Jongho would soon follow out of mere respect. And you would be killed promptly. It is what he has wanted since you’ve arrived here, turning everything sideways. So why, as he looks at your pathetic cowering behind Wooyoung, why does he feel such pity for you?

He looks at Wooyoung again. Though his fascination with you is beyond his capability of understanding, he can see it. How his eyes look at his spark desperately, pleading with them to save you. How Yunho’s jaw clenches, quietly observing. He wanted you here, wanted you protected by them. Though you aren’t exactly the pitiful human he once thought you to be, he still cares for you, strangely.

“Well, what do you want to do?” San whispers into his neck. Useless, since they all can hear what he’s saying aside from you. “Kill her?”

His next words will change everything. Yeosang meets your eyes across the room. His own widen slightly at your expression, flicking down to read your lips. The words mouthed to him are enough for him to decide.

Please help me.

“There’s no reason to kill her if she does not hold any threats to us right now.”

Seonghwa whips his head to Yeosang. Anger expressed along the vein on his neck, the set of his brows. He will not say it outright, but Yeosang has just betrayed his trust. Perhaps Seonghwa thought he would allow the woman to be killed just because … well, because he wanted it. But he cannot now, not when things are turning out so interesting.

“You are sure of this?” Hongjoong asks. His eyes sparkle. “Truly?” Despite only being the fourth oldest, his words hold weight for the rest.

“I am,” Yeosang says simply. The tense gaze of your expression has not dropped. Probably because you don’t realize that San would follow his lead, then Jongho. Your hand wraps around Wooyoung’s arm that traps you behind him. “If need be in the future with reason, sure. But now, no.”

“This is a mistake-” Seonghwa begins, stopping once Hongjoong flicks his finger. His mouth is shut in an instant, the feeling of magic swirling through the air.

“Hasn’t he spoken enough tonight? There are three remaining votes. As always, I will side with the majority. San, you’re next.”

“No need to kill her,” San agrees. Hongjoong’s smile grows louder, eyes flicking to Wooyoung.

“Your answer is obvious, but please Wooyoung, give your vote.”

Wooyoung covers your body almost completely as he speaks. “Of course, I will not kill her.”

“What does our youngest think?”

“I enjoy her being around, I can’t imagine her not being here,” Jongho smiles at you from across the room. “She can stay.”

“Well, as with the majority, y/n’s life is spared. Apologies to Seonghwa and Mingi, but as you know, it has now been decided. Take all the time you need to process this.” He flicks his finger again toward Seonghwa. The room expects him to roar his complaints, but he only looks around, tiredness seemingly flowing off of him.

“I trust you all and always have. And I assumed that you trust my words as well. But as Hongjoong has said, majority rules. I hope that you all keep an eye on her, and make sure that with the slightest change in behavior, monitor it. It can come at any time since she cannot control it herself,” Seonghwa looks at you, eyes meeting. “And I hope, y/n, you listen to my words yourself. Leave if you feel the change happening.”

He leaves the room, Hongjoong disappearing from his spot, likely following Seonghwa close behind along with Yunho. Leaving the rest of you alone.

Wooyoung’s body seeps into your figure the way he embraces you so tightly, lips pressing against your temple lightly. “I’ll be back, pretty.” His touch disappears as well. Jongho glances at you sympathetically, eyes glazing over yours for a moment before he too, blinks away. The instantaneous disappearing bodies is not something you’d ever get used to.

It does not distract you enough from what Seonghwa said, though. You are not human, despite how you’ve lived, how much you have insisted. A kumiho? As he further explained it, it still made entirely no sense to you. You’ve lived your life plainly, rarely if ever dated once in a while. Soobin was your second official relationship, the first lasting no more than a couple of years. The way he looked with such disgust as he explained it, how your age superseded everyone’s in the room. How your true nature was hidden from even yourself - it is impossible to think of.

“It is interesting to look at you, knowing what you are,” San says, looking around Yeosang to peer at you. “Do you have the urge to bite me?”

“I don’t feel anything, San,” exasperation coats your words. “I don’t even believe it myself.”

“Seonghwa is rarely wrong,” Yeosang murmurs. “That is why we take his word as the truth. Since you are kumiho, your training with Mingi will be much different now. Likely more intense.”

Your arms ache at the thought. You have yet to see Mingi yourself, but the training from before was strenuous. You look at Yeosang, remembering he expression on his face as he peered over at you, the tired eyes filled with curiosity as he voted to keep you alive. You are grateful, nonetheless. But the question lingers the longer you look at him.

“Do you want me dead?”

Yeosang pauses at the inquiry, straw resting between his lips. Eyes flicking to yours. There is little to decipher when it comes to him since he rarely tells what he may be thinking, and you're not with him often. But something in the way he looks at you. He does not respond right away – an indication that he may twist his words to satisfy your question.

“In the beginning I thought it'd be best to get rid of you before it escalated. Even more recently, I thought the same. But now I am not so sure,” he places his drink on the counter. “Most of us do enjoy having you around, human or not. Though I am not as enthused as Yunho or Wooyoung with your presence, I no longer hate it. So I have grown to tolerate it. Until I cannot.”

“You will kill me?”

His smile is strange, hollow. “If I must. Your life isn't that important. Or I'll wait until it has run out itself. You may only have a few more decades left, anyway. They will get over it – their fixation will move to something more interesting eventually.”

How casually he talks about your life. Like it is nothing. He does consider it as nothing, as he has said. None of the Unseelie is this house told you do directly as he has done. You should feel a bit wary around him now, knowing he could change his mind in seconds and kill you. Even now, as he reads the spellbook resting on his thighs, he could kill you. And San, sitting nearby, would only help.

So feeling comforted at the thought is unusual.

“Thank you for being honest,” you say, and he snickers. “Not much of that going around here.”

“Sure.”

San leaves a bit after that. The silence echoes around the small room, eyes moving to the doorway at the sound of the door clicking open. The sight nearly startles you, seeing him for the first time in months. Mingi is followed closely by Yunho, bodies brushing against one another as they enter. Yeosang takes that as a sign to leave you, closing his spellbook and gracefully hopping off the chair. His fingers drag across Mingi's arm as he leaves.

“Oddly quiet around here,” he notes, opening the fridge. Yunho sits where Yeosang just was, smiling at you. “Have you been getting along well despite today?” He asks, thanking Mingi as he passes him an apple. “Wooyoung said you've been making progress adjusting, but I rarely take his word for it.”

“It's been better now,” you say. “It's not one hundred percent yet, but I am getting used to being around here. I hope it just ends soon.”

“I heard your life was spared. It should make you happy. Ah,” he snaps his fingers. “They haven't told you yet,” Mingi sits on the opposite side of you. “We will have to leave soon.”

“We?”

“Half of us. Yunho, Wooyoung, Hongjoong, and myself. Seelie requested our presence. We would have all went, but with these circumstances, it may be best to leave half of us here.”

Circumstances meaning you. Mingi does not further explain and you do not insist on him doing so, instead sinking further into the chair you rest on. “So I am left with the rest of you.”

“Left is a strong word,” Yunho mumbles into his cup. “More like babysat.”

Your frown deepens, and he laughs. “It is but a joke. You can take care of yourself. They won’t do anything to you while we’re gone. Yeosang and San will likely stay to themselves now that Seonghwa has relieved him of his duty to watch you. Jongho will be entertaining enough, no?”

“She is older than us all, no need to treat her as a faerling,” Mingi murmurs.

“She thinks she’s almost three decades old, Mingi.”

“Time to see reality.”

They banter back and forth about you, clueless as to how you’ve already left, steps quiet as you make it to your own bedroom. Seonghwa’s words, no matter how convincing, is not something you believe to be true. He says you conjured up this false reality of your life to blend into the human world, but it makes no sense to you. Nothing, none of it does. You remember your parents, you remember your family life. How you so easily deluded yourself into thinking that it was real when it’s not is beyond your comprehension. Likely because you don’t believe it at all. Why would you hide it from yourself? There is no reason to block your own mind from it - even if you are as he says you are. Jumping to such a conclusion is ridiculous.

No. You’re not a kumiho.

You enter your room, shutting the door behind and locking it. Surely Seonghwa can easily create a spell to allow the others into your room, but he won’t. Not if he so vehemently believes that you’re a creature that he didn’t even think was real. You settle yourself into your sheets, ignoring the lingering feeling in your mind that he might be right.

oh no, he's in love? (k.m.g)

Mingyu knew that sleeping with you was a bad idea, especially when he learns that you’re now dating his son, Chan. He pulls himself back into reality and moves on from the situation, allowing the two of you to end the small fling without suspicion, or rather, he tries.  or the one where your re-established crush and now boyfriend, chan, finds out that his dad knows you better than he does.

― part one here! 

ao3 | m.list | leave feedback and reblog to give mingyu a boner. 

minors do not interact. 

WORDCOUNT― 15.1k

PAIRING― dilf!mingyu x afab reader  | chan x afab reader

CONTENT―  angst, there is no daddy kink nor is there sub/dom dynamics involved with this fic, mingyu is in his 40s, reader is in her 20s. 

SIDE CHARACTERS― chan as mingyu’s son, jihoon as chan’s ride home when ur mad at him

WARNINGS― borderline cheating, alcohol abuse, morally gray choices need to be made, chan disowns mingyu, reader can be lifted and carried by mingyu.

NOTE― *runs away very very fast, so fast that no one can catch me and make me face the trials of what this fic may have done to some of you* not proofread because hahahaha nope. 

smut tags under cut:: 

smut tags :: pussy drunk mingyu, reader is almost entirely silent through the smut but you’ll get why, pussy devouring, kitchen counter sex, couch sex, missionary, eye contact, making out, finger fucking, cream pie/unprotected sex

~

You keep running through explanations in your head, more for yourself than anyone else. When you pushed that crush you had on Chan away, it was clearly because you were horny and he wasn’t picking up the hints. The crush never actually died, your interest just skewed to someone who appeared more ready to pleasure you when you needed it the most. The fact that it happened to have been Chan’s dad? Well, we just won’t talk about how that factors into it.

The explanation of an insatiable “horny level” high enough to fuck Mingyu? It manages to calm you down each time you’re actually with Chan. He’s entirely unaware of what happened between you and his father and you’d prefer to keep it that way, which is why you haven’t seen Mingyu in over a month, and why you avoid seeing him any further. 

After that first night with Mingyu, you saw him a few times after and continued your little fling with him until Chan made himself more prominent in your life, more so than he already was. He made his feelings clear, he stepped up, he started hanging out with you one on one rather than consistently inviting you to parties with him. It was easy to fall back into your original mindstate about him especially without the alcohol being involved. Wanting to hold his hand, wanting to kiss him, wanting to touch him. He stepped up and asked you to be his girlfriend about a week after you stopped seeing Mingyu all together. You expected to be asked, in all fairness, so it was the right thing to do. 

Mingyu never texted you nor did he ever call even before you stopped seeing him, he always just responded. You were thankful for that, despite remembering how you laid with him in his bed the last night you spent with him, wondering if that feeling in your stomach was something deeper than arousal. Small secretive hopes that those small words of “I never want to assume, that’s why I don’t text first.” with an even smaller explanation of “It’s not because I don’t want you.” would become something more. 

Still, those budding hopes don’t matter now, as Chan continues to make himself the center of your love life. There is something on your mind that bothers you though. The fact that there could be a future together with Chan and knowing that you can’t avoid Mingyu forever. 

God, you’re so right about that issue too, because of course Chan is happily texting you as the semester comes to an end. Of course he’s setting up dinner with his dad and inviting you to meet him properly for the first time. 

You: chan, i’ve met your dad a billion times

Chan: yeah but not as my girlfriend! 

You: fair but, i’ve already met him lol, i’d rather we just hang out without parents around

Your brain pounds at the idea of pretending you haven’t met Mingyu on levels deeper than you should have. It also pounds at the idea of seeing Mingyu’s reaction to you doing what you’re doing. He must think so lowly of you, to fuck him and still be brave enough to enter into a relationship with his son? You’re sure he already knows you’re dating him, but like, you’d rather not see him see it? 

Chan: babe come on, i wanna do coupley things with you! just pretend you’ve never met him, plus he seemed cool with the idea and even said he can make up my old room if we wanted to sleep over. 

The pit in your stomach grows at the very idea that you’ve never been in Chan’s old room before, but you’d been in Mingyu’s many times. Enough to remember the creak of the boards just at the base of his bedroom door, enough to know where he hangs his jacket outside of the closet, and which side of his bed he tends to sleep on the most. 

Unfortunately, and with a world of reluctance, you know you can’t avoid Mingyu forever. The thought alone that he already knows drives the bubbles in your stomach up to your throat, leaving a bad taste in your mouth as you give in to your boyfriend. Chan, the one you chose, and the one you know you will continue to choose. 

You: alright, alright. what should i wear?

Chan: can you wear that one skirt 

You: NO

~

Now, after a long night of overthinking and trying to come up with an excuse to not see Mingyu again, you’re sitting on your bed wearing the exact skirt Chan wants you to wear, waiting for him to pick you up and drive you to the most awkward situation that could ever happen to you.

You’re really hoping he doesn’t opt to sleep there and expect you to be beside him. Something inside tells you that he’d be able to smell the weakness on you, or the nervousness around his father. After all, Chan is more mindful than you gave him credit for originally. Only having learned this through his never-ending string of apologies of never reciprocating your hints previously. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to, he had said, he just wasn’t sure if he was ready at the time. 

That was, until he noted how you kind of backed off. He didn’t want to fumble a girl like you, and so, he leaped further than any man ever had done with you. Mindful, he is. Of himself, of you, hopefully not of anything else though. You’d really rather he not take note of any lingering memories in his childhood home regarding your naked body pressed against whatever surface Mingyu has had you against.

Trying to act like Mingyu hasn’t had you pressed against the washer in the laundry room is harder than you thought it would be. Trying to pretend you haven’t touched him, or kissed him, or made him moan is insanely difficult to do. Those images and sounds were burned into your mind the moment it happened, and even now, when you get intimate with Chan, you find yourself finding the differences between the two. Which is….not good.

For instance, Mingyu is bigger. All around, he loomed and could do absolutely anything he wanted to you, but he was polite and never took advantage of his size or age. He was gentle and kind, even when his deep thrusts hurt. He always kissed you when you winced, always told you to hold onto him, and always thanked you for taking him so well. 

Chan, on the other hand is–a good size of course, not as thick or as long as Mingyu, body stature not nearly as big either but, the sex is hot, messy, clumsy even. 

He’s cheeky and selfish for his pleasure, but so are you, so the dynamic is something that turns you on beyond belief. Having someone so eager to touch you felt amazing. Chan never quite knew where he wanted his lips, tongue, or fingers first and it always feels so good to let him determine that himself. 

 The first time you finally had him between your legs, you could argue that he gave you some of the best head you’d ever had. Until you remembered how Mingyu did it. How desperate someone twice your size and age was for you to get on his face, how ready he was to make you feel good even while neglecting himself. Chan doesn’t do that, he likes to hold you down when you squirm, and he certainly doesn’t allow himself to be neglected for too long.

Both of them fuck so differently, and both of them fuck exactly how you want them to. Or, wanted them to, if you’re talking about Mingyu. It’s just, you only know of the love from Chan and the presumed fantasy of what you think Mingyu’s love would feel like. 

As you sit here, comfortable and pleased with your current sex life, you can’t help but miss the way you were held by Mingyu. His big arms felt so safe, even when you weren’t in any position to feel unsafe. You can’t compare the two, truly, but you still try. Internally wondering which is better despite already making the choice of being Chan’s girlfriend. 

Naturally though, you cannot live your life through sexual hopes and dreams like this when you’ve got Chan right here, giving his all to you. So, you let it rest, even when the thoughts flood your mind. 

The memories and thoughts of Mingyu will die as the days pass, right? As you and Chan establish a good foundation, and eventually fall into something more serious than just a mid-college relationship, right? There’s no harm in remembering fondly until that happens, right?

Right, well. You still have to officially meet Mingyu again, so. 

Even now, as you’re with Chan and pulling into his father’s driveway, your brain finds itself reverting back to how Mingyu used to open the door for you when you were alone. Always that little smirk, always a tight and warm hug before it immediately turned to minty fresh kisses deepening by the second.

When he opens the door this time, he appears to be nothing but a doting father. One who doesn’t have desperate arousal pressing against his jeans when he looks at you. It’s a reminder that he isn’t opening this door for you alone this time. He’s not inviting you in to put those broad hands on your thighs to spread your legs open for him. No, he’s inviting you in for fucking dinner with your boyfriend. His son. 

He doesn’t appear to be bothered though, nor does his eyes linger like they used to. He greets you the same way he greets Chan, only glancing at your hand in his son’s grasp for a moment before offering the two of you a smile.

“It’s about time I got to officially meet her.” Mingyu calls out with a chipper tone, reaching his hand out to you for a hand shake. “Now that you’re seeing me at a decent time, without dragging my insane child to the couch to sleep off his bad decisions, I’m the actual Mingyu.”

You reluctantly reach for his hand to shake it, the warmth of them no longer there from when he used to hold your hips or caress your cheek. They’re cold this time, but his smile is warm. You avoid eye contact, mostly looking straight past him rather than choosing to try and read his features. 

“It’s kind of weird seeing you when the sun is out, Mr. Kim,” You comment, feeling a little bit shy about all of this despite how bold you normally are. “Kind of nice that we are all here to meet without Chan dry heaving against me.”

Mingyu pauses at the name you just called him, accepting it and dipping his head politely at you with a soft and accepting smile.

“Oh yeah, for sure.” Chan laughs, squeezing your hand in his and dragging you inside, forcing you to brush only slightly by Mingyu, who steps back to give you the space. 

On one hand, that comment meant more than you meant it to, but it was also the truth. For one, you should never be calling your boyfriend’s dad by his actual name, and two, even if you never got to experience getting into Mingyu’s bed, still you’d have only met him in the middle of the night after wild college parties. Even those days when you slept over and went home the next morning, the sun was out but it didn’t change the fact that most of your waking hours with Mingyu were spent when the city was blanketed by night. 

The atmosphere feels so awkward in these circumstances and the worst part is that they’re not supposed to. If you had just kept your hands to yourself, if Mingyu was just….not so fucking hot. Even now, as you avoid eye contact with him, you watch the way he steps around the kitchen with confidence as he prepares the last of the dinner. You watch the way his shirt squeezes his biceps and the way his fingers hold a bowl. 

You are stupid to have come here so soon.

Unintentionally you rub your legs together as you watch him, as if your body will react regardless of what your heart tells you to do. Chan is off to the side moving his hand from the table and to your thigh, completely unaware that the movements from you are from unwanted arousal and not nervousness. 

“What’re you being so shy for?” Chan whispers, squeezing your thigh with care, dipping his head down to make eye contact with you. “Like you said, you’ve already met him before.”

He has no idea that the simple touch to your thigh is driving you insane right now, and you can’t even react to it the way you want to because you wouldn’t know if you’d moan the wrong name if you end up being intimate with Chan here. It feels insanely overwhelming just sitting here at the dinner table and the worst part is that it absolutely should not be like this. As if that’s not already well established in your head, 

“I know, but it’s weird pretending like it’s my first time meeting him.” You whisper back, trying to relax your body and keep your eyes on Chan. 

You can’t help but feel like he can see straight through you, despite knowing there is absolutely no way in hell he could. 

“It’ll feel better, don’t worry. I know you’ve only talked to him a few times, but he’s pretty down to earth.”

Chan really thinks you’ve only met Mingyu in passing when dropping him off. God, the guilt is overwhelming as you lean into him, dropping your head on his shoulder and sighing. You can’t even tell if this looks dramatic or awkward, but thankfully, Mingyu appears to be avoiding your eye much like you are for him. 

When dinner is ready and the three of you are sitting together and eating, it does somehow get easier. The way Mingyu plays it off, the way he carries the conversation, the way he says he’s proud of Chan for finding such a nice girl, all of it makes you feel as though he’s decided to move forward. Like he’s genuinely okay with this, like he’s moved on and you were just a notch in his bedpost. 

Which, it’s true, but you can admit that you feel uneasy with the way he no longer looks at you the way he once did.

Which is good, for him at least. You think you’ve moved on too, at least in a logical sense, but you can’t help but feel a little stab in your heart each time Mingyu acts in support of this relationship. Not that you wanted him to fight for you, or to be mad, it’s just that you really thought that maybe the two of you had a little fire starting together. Given, you’re the reason that was snuffed out, who are you to feel even the slightest bit upset that he’s being a supportive father? 

After all, above all, he is the father of your boyfriend, and not just that notch in your bedpost. You have to co-exist with him for as long as you and Chan are together, it’s better that it’s this way.

There’s a relief in the way Mingyu appears to truly not mind. He still looks at you softly when your eyes do meet, but they’re not guilty or apologetic. This is how it’s supposed to be, it’s how it was always supposed to be. 

“So, are you guys sleeping over?” Mingyu asks, grabbing his glass and taking a sip to wash down a bite of his food before looking between the two of you. “Chan, I made up your bedroom and hooked up one of the gaming systems.”

Chan nods with a fond smile before looking at you and tilting his head in question. 

“Are you good to sleep over?” He asks you, hand going back to your thigh under the table and giving you another comforting squeeze. 

You don’t want to, but Chan is still obnoxiously bad at picking up hints, so when you shrug he smiles and nods. 

“Sounds good,” He smiles, looking back at his dad and taking another bite of his food. “This is nice.”

Mingyu hums in response.

“Yeah, it’s about time you brought someone home to meet me, I was starting to think you thought I was lame or something.”

Chan laughs, tipping his chair a bit as he pulls his hand from your thigh and slouches like the college boy he is. 

“You are lame,” Chan jokes in a chuckle. “But really, dad, I just didn’t click with anyone until now.”

Mingyu pauses and then gives Chan another smile and a nod. 

“That’s really good to hear.” He compliments, standing to his feet to take his dishes to the sink.

~

You try not to be too touchy with Chan while you’re here. You’re too hyper aware of what it feels like to be touched in this house and what it does to your mind. Unfortunately, Chan is the perfect type of boyfriend you would have yearned for before all of this happened. 

He’s touchy, he’s clingy, he’s needy. Honestly, he’s all over you after dinner. On the couch he used to drunkenly sleep on, his hand is planted to your thigh, drawing little hearts with his fingertips. His lips are constantly in search of yours when Mingyu sees himself out of the room, usually to grab a drink or to go to the bathroom. 

It’s not that you pull away, but you kind of do. He seems understanding enough, knowing that you likely just feel awkward being all touchy in his dad’s house.

“He’s not even in here,” Chan prods gently, kissing against your neck. “And you look so good today.” 

You both love and hate how into you he can be. It’s something you think you’ll give in to time and time again, but still, you feel like you’re morally at a wall when he does it here. 

Even by the time the two of you make your way to Chan’s old room, you find yourself staring at the door Mingyu has closed behind you several times. His door. You know the layout of his bedroom like the back of your hand, every creak of his floor, every pattern on his window curtains. 

The guilt stays with you the entire time you’re here, and you really just can’t wait to leave. It feels like you’re a prisoner of your own fucking brain at this point, and honestly? You want to go to sleep and not spend another waking moment with your fucking boyfriend within these walls, ever. It’s too overwhelming, too awkward, and in all honesty, kind of painful with the way Mingyu seems entirely unbothered.

You’re trying to be unbothered too, even as Chan lays you down in his old bed and crawls on top of you. 

“If we’re quiet...” He starts, trying to lean down to kiss you, trying to love you the way you usually like it. But he’s quick to take note of your body language, with the way you almost curl in on yourself as he makes his attempt. 

“Hey,” He soothes, rolling off of you and clinging to your side. “It’s okay.” He continues, whispering to you and peppering little kisses against your shoulder. “We don’t have to.”

You nod quietly, turning to face him and looking at him.

“It’s not that I don’t want to.” You say, trying to make him feel less bad about it. “I just don’t think I can physically get turned on in your dad’s house.”

A lie. 

He chuckles at you with a nod. 

“Would you rather not sleep here tonight?” He asks, like, genuinely asks in a way to try and make things more comfortable. 

You nod, feeling a bit bad and like you’re making a big deal about it, even though to him, you’re not. 

“Come on, we can go back to your place.” He says, both of you still very much awake and not entirely ready for bed anyway.

“Won’t he wonder why we’re leaving?” You ask, tilting your head. “I mean, he made up your room and everything.” You nod your head to the gaming system sitting untouched, ready for use. 

“Nah, he’s just nice like that. He won’t mind.”

And, well, Mingyu really didn’t seem to care. Which, arguably, makes you feel stupid for being worried about it at all.

In fact, he barely gave either of you a nod when Chan opened the familiar bedroom door to say goodbye for the night. Both of you waving politely to him with no excuse or reason as to why you’re not staying. 

You’re aware that Mingyu knows why though. Which is probably why he didn’t offer an ounce of care or confusion when the two of you inevitably stood at his door to tell him. 

At the end of the day? This visit was tortuous only because you made it so. In your head, it’s hard to pretend. Fortunately though, Mingyu seems to have no fucking problem forgetting that you’ve ever spent a single moment alone with him. 

You try not to hurt over it.

~

Chan has this effect over you where as long as the two of you are together, he calms you to the point that you almost forget about Mingyu entirely. That is, of course, until you’re actually face to face with Mingyu himself and you have no other choice but to recognize the choices you’ve made. 

Thankfully, there isn’t much of a reason to be around him despite being in a committed relationship with his son, and that only gives you more of a reason to fall back into a comfortable mind state the second you’re out of that all too familiar childhood home of your boyfriend. 

Every single time, without fail and completely without intention, Chan manages to remind you with every kiss and touch that you’re where you’re supposed to be. With him, beside him, under him, just…anywhere with him. It feels so right when your brain isn’t running a mile a minute over the hidden secrets within yourself. 

You can genuinely say that Chan makes you happy. You can even say that you’ve never been happier in a relationship with another person. Never more comfortable, never more safe. So, when the two of you are invited to a semester-end party over at Jihoon’s place just a week later, it’s natural that both of you jump for the opportunity. 

After all, it’s been a while since you last attended a party at all, and Chan has since calmed down as well once the two of you got exclusive. It’s nice, really, without the alcohol flowing and heightened emotions. 

Every conversation from before, up to Chan asking you to be his girlfriend was sobering and pleasant. If anything, having a couple of drinks now that the two of you are falling into a routine together would be a nice change of pace for the night.

The two of you deserve this relaxation together anyway, for sure you do. After how you felt dealing with Mingyu face to face, after a rough semester, after fucking passing your exams, fuck yes you’re going to go to this party and let loose with a boyfriend you’re growing to love so dearly. 

You can tell Chan is excited too by the glint in his eye and that fond smile as he watches you get dressed and ready beside him.

“I won’t drink much so we can go back to my place and cuddle up later?” is what he whispered to you as you pinned your hair out of your face. You were happy to hear him take responsibility for what used to be a somewhat of a drinking problem. 

Unfortunately, his promise of not drinking much became more and more empty as the night went on.

For the first hour, he seemed to stick to his words. Sipping on one single drink up until the end of the hour and he goes for another. Then another, and another, up until he goes off for “one more” only to be lost in the crowd of people wandering around jihoon’s frat house. 

You stand in wait, swaying to the beat with a mere drink and a half sloshing around in your belly as you think to yourself. It’s okay. He’s just letting loose for the first time in weeks and you don’t want to seem like a pushy girlfriend or a mood kill during the middle of a party that you both very much deserve to attend.

You and Chan being in the relationship doesn’t mean neither of you get the freedom to have fun and get absolutely plastered, even if there was a slight promise of doing no such thing. You want him to have fun after the stressful semester. Especially considering how you had to practically force him to study just so he could get his GPA up. 

You want him to not feel guilty for drinking a little too much like he’s done so many times before. If anything, you need to be the supportive girlfriend, letting him lean on you and leave slobbery, wet kisses down your jaw through drunken slurs of love and adoration towards you. 

Are you a bit disappointed? Yes, of course you are. But you also don’t mind going with the flow, so flow you do. Back and forth through the rooms, mingling with Jihoon, Joshua, that one guy, and that other girl. You’re having a great time chatting it up with relaxed and giggly friends, feeling like maybe you could even use another drink or two, up until– oh.

Chan. Right there against the back door with some pretty drunken girl petting on his arm. Giggling, dipping her face, all while he says something to her with the same snicker and smirk he typically gives to you during a date or just before an intimate moment with you.

Suddenly, you remember when you let that fleeting crush on him dwindle as time passed. Sure, partially it was because of Mingyu but there was still another side to it. This side of Chan. When he’s drunk and entirely out of his mind around pretty girls and strong beverages. Always so single looking, always so flirty, never picking up hints.

He never picked up the hint that you liked him, and while he explained that away to you, watching him now makes you feel like all of those words were just to save face. He didn’t pick up the hints then, and he certainly isn’t picking up the hints now as your face falls to that of a frustrated glare. The girl notices, raises her brow at you, and then looks back at your boyfriend. 

Chan barely glances at you but when he does, it’s almost like you didn’t come here with him at all. It’s almost like neither of you ever even started dating in the first place. 

Is this all it takes? A couple of drinks and one pretty girl for him to lose all interest in you? What about you though? Is this all it takes for you to completely lose all interest? 

You’re the only one with a right to lose interest, arguably. 

Considering the way Chan looks at her, the way his hands reach for her. 

There, a girl who isn't you, to be specific. He practically ignores any hint of discomfort from you while simultaneously allowing this girl to cling all over him, run her fingers through his hair, and even so much as sipping from his drink. She glances at you again.

She fucking smirks at you.

You’re dumbfounded, appalled, and overwhelmed with rage within an instant as you stand and watch. Each person who steps in front of you or between you and your boyfriend appear to be entirely invisible as you watch, because you can’t recall a single second where you weren’t seeing the two of them up against that fucking door clear as day. 

It’s like he’s reverted back to every doubt you ever had about him, that safety you had started growing accustomed to being ripped out from under you by some woman who you’re sure he hasn’t even caught the name of yet. 

Does it hurt? Tremendously for the amount of time you’ve been with him. A few weeks shouldn’t hurt this badly to lose. 

And it’s not hard, really, to take what’s yours, or rather to throw away what’s supposed to be yours. It never really has been when it comes down to situations that force you to act on instinct. After all, Chan was the one who got serious with you. He’s the one who asked you to be exclusive. He’s the one who finally jumped in after you’d been dipping your toes in to encourage him for ages. 

And now, he’s going to fucking explain himself. You deserve to know why your boyfriend of just over a month and a half, who was previously your best fucking friend, manages to grow bored with you within the blink of an eye. If Chan can’t handle being in a relationship while alcohol is involved, he’s going to have a big decision to make. Right here. 

Right now. 

You make your way towards them, all while glaring at the woman with her hands in your boyfriend’s hair as she makes her pathetic attempts to dance sexy against him. Chan, on the other hand, is so fucking dazed and in his own world that you can argue you don’t know this man at all.

“Chan.” That’s all you say to have him raising a brow, looking at you as if you’re interrupting something. 

“What’s up babe?” He responds nonchalantly, smiling at you and leaning into the girl. 

You pause, taking a breath as you stare them both down with a grimace.

“Can you leave?” You demand more than ask towards the girl, and she scoffs only for a moment before Chan takes it upon himself to shrug her off of him and shake her away. 

You watch as she rolls her eyes and walks away, and never in your life have you wanted to slap another woman so badly. The worst part is that it isn’t even her fault that this is happening. Chan clearly didn’t tell her that he, you know, has a fucking girlfriend. 

“What the fuck was that?” You dead pan, staring straight at Chan and forcing him out of a state of bliss with your tone. 

“Babe, babe. Relax.” He slurs, smiling and chuckling throughout the words. “Just having fun!” 

You stare at him dumbfounded. Offended. Fucking appalled yet again. 

“Are you joking?” You roll your eyes much like the woman did, crossing your arms and fidgeting on your feet. “If I’d known that you would suddenly become single from getting shitfaced then maybe we wouldn’t have come to the party at all.” 

“Oh, so now you want to control me?” Chan shoots back in another slur of words. “First you force me to study, now you’re trying to make me stop having fun? Such a fucking buzz-kill.” 

You sigh, unsure as to why you thought he wouldn’t be so stubborn. Then again, you know drunk Chan better than you do the sober one.

“I really thought that once we started dating, you’d be more mindful of this. Of us.” You nearly plead now, reaching for his cup only to watch him pull it out of your reach like a child. “You need to stop drinking.”

Chan just stares at you now. You watch him try to adjust his eyes forward, and already you’re aware that he’s seeing two of you. His expression gives you nothing more than a feeling of disgust, knowing well enough that drunk words are more truthful than the sober ones.

“Chan, you’re cheating on me already.” You try to explain the gravity of the situation again. 

“I’m not cheating. I told you, I was just having some fun.” He explains away with a dopey smile, moving his weight to his other leg and blatantly stumbling over nothing as he sways himself back into a shitty-show of drunken balance.

“Yes, because it’s fun to have another woman’s hands all over you when I’m literally right fucking here?”

Only now are you actually shocked by his response. 

All he does is shrug at you with that same smile. One you’d normally want to kiss right off of his face because it’s so cute and endearing. 

But no. Instead, you feel disgust. No hurt, no pain, just…you feel gross. Embarrassed, even.

“This is childish. We’ve barely been dating over a month.” You state as a fact, uncaring if he can process the words at all. “I’m not doing this. We’re done. Have Jihoon take you back to your place.” 

And before he can even fathom saying something back to you, you leave. 

~

It’s a very bad feeling to walk into a party arm in arm with someone you imagine being with for a long time, and then walking out of that same party not three hours later alone, and seemingly broken up. 

You meant what you said though, even if you could practically see your words go through one of his ears and out the other. It’s too early in the relationship to be dealing with that. Arguably, there should never be a time in a relationship actually, where you have to practically force someone out of your boyfriend’s too-welcoming grasp. 

Ah, it’s shameful really. Given that you did your best to be a good girlfriend to him despite what happened with his dad, yet he couldn’t even offer you the decency of at least pretending to love you while drunk? 

You really didn’t pay much mind to his drinking until now. You knew he was a bit of a mess before but most college kids are, you thought. Seeing it first hand and how it can impact your relationship though? Yeah, Chan has a drinking problem and it’s one you’re not willing to work through with him. 

Partially because you’re hurt by what he’s doing and partially because the guilt of everything that happened before you started dating stresses you the fuck out. 

Maybe it’s better that you keep your distance from not only Mingyu, but Chan too. 

And you know, that sounds like such a great idea. You could start over, you could find someone new and slowly get to know them before eventually falling in love, getting married, so on and so forth.

And as you simmer over the frustration, too, too sober, you jump into your car and start driving. Where? You’re not sure. The path you’re going doesn’t lead to home at all, but you continue nonetheless. Paying too-close attention to each stop sign and red light, until–

Well.

Is it really so shocking to find yourself here of all places? 

It’s a quick trip up the steps and the knocks you lend the door are even quicker. 

There’s so much resentment inside of you at this moment when none other than Mingyu creaks the front door open. His son just fucked you over, his son was supposed to be a good boyfriend, his son just threw you away for some girl at a fucking frat party and you want to know why. 

Sure, you should be standing in front of Chan right now to get the answers, but you’re not. You’re here. You’re fucking here, on Mingyu’s front porch, glaring at him much like you’d be glaring at his son.

Mingyu, on the other hand, is shocked to see you at his door by yourself. He reluctantly lets you inside without a word spoken. He sees the expression on your face and can’t help but feel the anxiety in his gut bubble up to his throat. 

There’s tension in the air as he looks at your eyes, noting that they appear to be a bit raw. 

“What happened?” Mingyu asks, standing by the door with a look of concern as you make your way to his kitchen as if you have the right. “Where’s Chan?” He adds in a voice with even more concern. 

To you, as you sigh and look at him when he makes his way into the kitchen behind you, all you can see is that same protective father from the night you and Chan almost slept over. 

“I broke up with him.” You roll your eyes, ignoring how glassy and wet they feel. 

No, you won’t cry over this. 

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.” He tilts his head with question, and you know he has more to say about it but you don’t really care to indulge him right now. 

“Did you raise him to be that way?” You ask, looking down and feeling frustrated. “To get bored of a relationship after a few weeks?”

Part of you knows these words include double edged swords. Who else would Chan have learned this from, anyway? With Mingyu and his all-too-caring hands acting like there’s a fucking spark somewhere in the room when you’re with him to Chan doing the exact same thing only to have both of them act as if you moving on isn’t a bother? 

“I most certainly did not teach him that.” Mingyu defends himself with a huskier tone than he’s ever used with you before. “What did he do?” 

“This girl was all over him tonight and when I split it up he got annoyed with me over it.” You sigh, rolling your eyes as you plop down on a bar stool. “Practically told me I was trying to control him, so I broke up with him.”

“Ah,” Mingyu nods, leaning against the counter. “He must have been drinking. I did tell him he needed to slow down on it, but he doesn’t exactly listen to me.”

“He doesn’t listen to fucking anyone.” You throw your arms up, eyes threatening to tear up against your will. 

Not because you’re sad, but for so many reasons aside from that. One, you just broke up with Chan. Two, you ran to fucking Mingyu over it? Three, you miss Mingyu and that’s the obvious reason as to why you’re here but that doesn’t make it right. And, well, four, the fact that he didn’t immediately smile and kiss you upon learning you’re single again is beyond frustrating.

Mingyu really did move on. 

He really did let you cut it off.

There’s a long moment of silence before you hear Mingyu sigh and look at you, studying your face with a tense jaw.

“Well,” He starts, “Is there a reason you came here over this? I don’t know what you want me to say.”

You’re not sure why those words shock you, but they do. In reality, from outside of yourself anyway, you can see how strange it must be that you came running to snitch on Chan. What’s worse is that Mingyu probably thinks you have some sort of ulterior motive behind being here. 

Which, yeah, maybe you did. In your rush of frustrations even you didn’t understand why you ended up here over this. Maybe part of you did want the comfort from him. Maybe you do want him to side with you, and hug you close despite being the one who broke it off. 

Still, Chan did fuck up. 

What part of your breakup should lend you the opportunity to come running back here though? You ghosted Mingyu to date his son. What gives you the right to be sitting in his kitchen right now? What do you expect him to say about all of this? 

“Oh, I’m so sorry babe, let me make it better.” or “I knew he couldn’t treat you the way I can.” 

Ah, fantasies. All of them are fantasies. As much as you’d love for Mingyu to say these things to you, realistically, he wouldn’t. 

He couldn’t. 

And somehow, knowing that and realizing it hurts a little more than breaking up with Chan. It’s proof that Mingyu lost interest in you too. Hell, you’re sure he lost interest the second he learned of you dating Chan. Given that he was suspiciously supportive of it, and that he even seemed happy about it? 

Perhaps he was just happy that whatever you and him had going on was over. Maybe he was relieved that he didn’t have to ghost you himself. 

Maybe you were stupid to involve yourself in any of this. Stupid to so boldly seduce Mingyu, stupid to willingly jump into a relationship with Chan, stupid to somehow believe that Mingyu would care at all about the situation as a whole. 

You guess the two really are alike, and that Mingyu did raise Chan to be cold and uncaring when the mood strikes him. 

“I guess you’re right.” You sigh, sniffling once and wiping your face before shooting up and onto your feet. “I really shouldn’t have come here.” You avoid his eye contact, feeling too many emotions to be willingly seen right now. “and I think I should go home.” 

He looks at you, nodding slowly.

“Yeah, that would be best.”

Stupid. You feel so fucking stupid. 

And as Mingyu watches you turn away from him, he can hear your sniffles. The way your shoulders tense to try and hide that you’re feeling embarrassed and utterly pathetic, he tries not to give in to that emotion. 

Yeah, you guys had sex. He knew it was wrong, but even so, he would still feel a pull in his chest to find his son’s girlfriend crying in his kitchen over something that happened. Whether he slept with you or not, it’s only human to want to comfort someone. 

But he can’t. Given the circumstances, if Mingyu so much as closes distance, he fears that you’ll see it as an invitation. Or perhaps, he will treat it as one himself. Now isn’t the time, and never should it have been time to invite you into his bed the way he did previously. 

He needs to be careful in this situation, regardless of how his heart pulls. 

Never did he want to see you hurting internally like this. 

And so, he tries to leave it alone. He tries to block out the sound of your shuffled footsteps walking away from him, and even harder does he try to block out those silenced sniffles from you. 

You feel so out of it as you make your way to the door. How you got into this situation isn’t too difficult to understand though. It was so easy to fall into it, and goddamn did it feel good at first. Now though? Ah, it hurts. 

Sure, you liked a guy and he turned out to be an asshole. That’s something that has and will happen to you time and time again, but you guess the whole fucking his dad thing makes it a lot worse in your head. 

Even so, you don’t know why you thought you could come to Mingyu for comfort. Like he’d wisp you off your feet and throw his own child under the bus. Your ego needed a check, and goddamn did both of these guys give it to you. 

That’s his son and you’re just…a girl. 

To think you’re really alluring enough to keep Chan from straying his eye…to think you’re enough to get Mingyu to side with you and touch you again? 

So fucking stupid. 

And god, this walk to Mingyu’s front door feels damning. You swear hours pass with each step but you’re sure it’s only been a few seconds. 

You realize that when you step past that front door, it’ll be the last time you’ll ever be in this house. The last time you’ll ever feel the gravel of this driveway under your tires, the last time Mingyu will ever see you walk away from him. 

It wells up inside you when you reach for the doorknob, unable to wait much longer to just move on from all of this. You want to lock it all behind this front door, instead of living with it yourself, forcing Mingyu to do it instead. 

Then, in a sudden twist of fate, you feel your body shiver at a rush of cold air behind you followed by warm arms wrapping you up entirely. 

You feel as if the breath is knocked out of you at the feeling, that cold door knob in your palm radiating with heat now as your hand is pulled away from it. You’re pulled from the door entirely, actually, and a rush of emotions hits you when you feel Mingyu’s broad chest against your back. 

You can’t help it. 

The tears on your cheeks are more from frustration than sadness, and you’re quick to try and wipe the arms that the tears fall against, but he still just holds you there. Strong arms forcing you into a reality that felt so far out of reach just moments before, forcing those warm tears to continue falling out of disbelief now, rather than frustration. 

You’d love to believe that this is just your mind playing tricks on you. Knowing you came here just to see if Mingyu would let you waste another night without Chan and with him. Running on emotions, really. It’s a trait you should probably work on, but really. You do wish it wasn’t real. That these arms around you really are just phantom weight that your heart is conjuring up. 

That the chin dropping to your left shoulder isn’t a man that’s been violating your thoughts time and time again. 

That this isn’t exactly what you want.

“Don’t hate me.” Mingyu whispers against his better judgment. He can’t help it though, the need to think of himself upon watching you touch that fucking doorknob hit him harder than anything else could have just moments ago. 

He never wanted to be in competition with his son, but fuck. He wants to at this point. He knows he can be what you need and he wants to be what you need so badly. Does he understand why? Of course he doesn’t. Something about this is so wrong and he knows exactly why it’s wrong. Does it stop him though? 

It almost did. 

“I don’t want you to leave here hating me.” He continues. 

The whisper against your neck feels so warming, sending goosebumps all over your body but you try to stay where you are. Even with your knees buckling under you, even when he holds you up and tighter against him. 

It’s the first time in several weeks since you’ve felt these arms around you. And fuck, you thought you’d be able to get over how they feel, you really thought that this heavy and overwhelmingly gentle grip would be a thing of the past. After all, it’s all you needed it to be, but here you are, feeling heartbroken over the fact that you kept yourself from this for far too long already.

You feel butterflies in your stomach flutter up to your throat, swallowing around a pathetic whimper of emotional release. 

“Just stay the night.” Mingyu adds after hearing your whimper, somehow holding you impossibly closer. 

You stand frozen, listening to his words and wondering if this is real. You feel too warm to pretend it’s not happening though, and it takes a moment to work up the courage to turn in his grasp. 

You almost forgot what it felt like to not be teased or played with. Chan really was so playful with you, to the point that it almost felt cruel at times. Mingyu though, the way he steps back and gives you the space to simply look at him? Gives you the time and space to contemplate the situation and decide whether or not you want to navigate it at all? 

At this moment, looking at him and his apologetic stare, seemingly feeling sorry that you’re going through what you’re going through while simulationaly wanting you, you can’t help but let the feelings for Chan die once and for all. 

If you’re really about to do this with Mingyu, you can’t do the back-and-forth again. You have to choose, and the choice is so fucking obvious. 

Arguably, it’s always been obvious. 

And as you keep eye contact with Mingyu, you can see something in his head break. That softened look in his eye turning to something….unabashedly crazed. As if to tell you to take the reins before he does it himself. It serves as a pleasant reminder that you’re not the only one weak when it comes to being alone together. 

You’re not the only one with guilt, temptation, and lack-of-care for morals when the two of you are together. 

You’re not alone in this. 

Mingyu is falling just as quickly as you are. 

Tumbling, spinning, fucking rolling in the idea that this doesn’t have to end. 

Honestly, with the matching gaze, Mingyu almost wishes you would walk away from this. From him. He almost wishes you could be smarter than he is in this situation. Wishes you were stronger than him and stronger than this. 

But he’s thankful that you’re not, because having the ability to watch you blink up at him like this again is flooring. In fact, he’s spent countless nights trying to push this very image out of his head due to respect for his son. 

Where is that respect now? 

Nowhere within him, and god is he thankful for it. Why should he have respect for a relationship that’s no longer there? Why should he continue to deny, deny, deny? 

He’s not in denial anymore, not with those pretty eyes looking at him like this. Not with those lips parting for each hopeful breath. Not with those hands gripping onto him for dear life, hoping for nothing more than a hug but knowing there’s so much more behind said hug. 

God, he’s melting again. For you, he’s fucking melting. 

“You need to tell me to stop, right now,” He says in a hopeless whisper, as if someone else can hear him. “Because I’m tired of pretending I have self control around you.”

And you react to those words with another pretty blink and a short shake to your head. Solidifying that he isn’t alone in the need, that he isn’t insane to want this, that he isn’t hated by you. 

It doesn’t take much, really, for him to take a step backwards. He can feel you walk with him, so he continues, walking back, back, back. Your body instinctively follows him, and you think you would follow him to the ends of the earth if you could. 

Back. Back. Back. Until the two of you are in the kitchen again, and his back hits the kitchen counter, sending a roll of paper towels to topple over and fall onto the floor. Neither of you pay attention to it, and instead hold each other in wait. 

When he drops his hands slightly, loosening his grip around your waist, he breathes out once before licking his bottom lip and fixing his gaze on your lips. 

To think either of you have self control at this moment is insane. He knows it, you know it, and god fucking damn, the entire universe would know it if they could so much as feel the electricity in this room. 

A single blink more up at him leaves him nearly breathless. No more waiting, no more offering space for if you want to pull away. No more outs. He swoops down and lands his lips on yours like he never stopped before. Like it’s natural, like this is where his lips are supposed to be. 

And all he can think of at this moment is hoping you never tell him to stop. Hoping that you’re both lost in this situation enough to experience something together just once more, if that’s all it can be. Even if this is all the two of you can be, he wants it. For as long as he can have it, he fucking wants it. 

You feel that want through his harsh kisses. Like he’s trying to swallow you up, so intimate with it, so into it. Pouring his whole soul into the way he moves his tongue against yours, the experience behind the way he breathes as he kisses is just as flooring as it always has been. Even now, you don’t compare it to the way Chan kissed you. Mingyu became the standard for everything in your head before, and it was silly for you to ever think someone else could take over that role. There is no comparing Mingyu to anyone else.

Silly, silly fucking thoughts. Logical thinking be damned, Mingyu was the logical choice all along. Morality bringing him down to a fucking notch in your bedpost? An insult. There’s something here, and to ever think that the two of you “just fucked” is so demeaning and belittling. 

You knew there was something there. And now, he’s proving it after spending too much time pretending that he couldn’t. 

You feel him move you, pushing forward, deepening the kiss and still managing to spin both of you around so that he’s pinning you against the counter now. 

“Missed the way you held onto me,” he says breathlessly, lifting your leg and holding it against his waist. “Missed the way you look at me.” He adds, more mindlessly than he has ever been, seemingly lost in the moment with you. “The way you just came into my bedroom and– fuck, i think about it so much.” 

No words have ever hit your heart so hard before. As if all this time he was pretending to be okay with your relationship. As if he did care, probably too much. 

As if he truly did miss you. 

And he proves it with every breath, grasp, kiss, and movement. It’s like he doesn’t have enough time in the world actually, to have you up against him like this. He almost rushes himself with it, pressing you more against the counter than against himself now. 

It only takes a few seconds for him to hoist you up on the counter and shrink down himself. Now he’s the one blinking up at you with fond concern on his face, fingers tugging at your shorts to imply he needs them fucking gone ten minutes ago. 

Your breath hitches for what you think could be the millionth time since you got here, but you lend him a little lift to get your shorts and panties off in one go. 

“Ahh,” He coos after tossing your clothing to the side mindlessly, both hands gripping your legs and spreading them wide as he stands back up to his full height and fits himself against you again. “Still so pretty,” He continues his string of compliments to you, dipping his head down just to get another taste of your lips on him.

His mind is entirely unsure of what to do first now that your bottoms are off, really. He’s spinning for you, and his hands search and grip all over you at the very idea that you’re propped up on his kitchen counter right now. 

The same counter he used to cook dinner for you and his son. 

Like a fucking dream.

And you can feel how hard he is when he presses against you more and more. His kiss so deep, his hips against you and reminding you of everything he’s made you feel before. Already you feel like you’re flying, but you know better than anyone that he has all the ability in the world to make you feel as if you’re fucking soaring. 

“Mingyu–” You choke out between kisses, trying to get a word in. “Let me.”

And just like the first time he ever felt your hands on him, he feels the way your palm slides down and cups his length to its best ability. His eyes go blank, the feeling so familiar and good to him that all he can do is throw his head back with a breathy chuckle. 

“Fuck, missed you.” He states as if it’s final, pressing his hips more and more against your palm as he dips right back down to kiss you even harder than before. “You have no idea.”

And then it’s like a spiral of messy, wet kisses, and his hips going from needy thrusts against your weak hand to suddenly having your hands gripping the edge of the counter as he sinks down and just…

“God,” You gasp at the first feeling of his warm tongue. “Mingyu…” 

He’s not tasting, he’s devouring. 

And he doesn’t respond, instead, he flutters his eyes shut and breathes deeply through his nose so that he never needs to pull his tongue out of you again. 

It’s like he can’t get enough of it. Never has he missed the taste of a woman on him like this, so wet and pretty when he’s licking. More and more dripping out of you just for him to swallow up and daydream about later. 

His tongue has a mind of its own at this moment when he flicks and sucks every part of you he can reach. Your clit only abandoned momentarily so he can lick deep into you before trailing back up with a deep and heavenly sigh of relief. 

His hands remain at your thighs, gripping you so tightly that you can tell he’s afraid you may dissolve in front of him. That all of this is just some wet dream that he’ll wake up from just before his own release. 

But no, you’re here. In the flesh, feeling this grip and feeling that feverish tongue greedily eat you from the inside out. Both of you are seemingly overwhelmed with the fact that it’s happening again. Or rather, finally you’re together again. 

And you can’t help it when your fingers find purchase in his hair, moaning out and echoing his name against his kitchen walls. He moans alongside you, feeling those gentle fingers scratch against his scalp in such a sweet and pleasurable way. 

If he could show you how much he needs this, he would. But this is all he can do for you to prove it, and he hopes that it’s enough. 

It isn’t long before he’s losing composure, flicking his tongue so fast against your clit that you can’t help but overpower his grip and close your legs around his head. He chuckles against your clit at that, keeping up with the assault of his tongue, listening to the way you pant above him, feeling you pull his hair, all while your legs unintentionally choke him out.

Fuck, it’s too good. You’re too good.

So, he continues and laps away like his life depends on it up until you practically lift from the counter, using your legs around his shoulders as your only form of balance when you press so hard against his tongue that all he can do is press back.

He has no breath at this moment, sucking your clit so hard into his mouth that his cock, quite literally, nearly explodes in his pants right then and there at the sheer desperation you share with him at this moment. 

And then your legs instantly loosen and you fall limp against the counter, your cum pouring out of you with each clench and shake of your body. It takes everything in him to pull his tongue away, but fuck, he needs to swallow those pretty, whined little sounds you’re giving to him. 

Quickly, he slides two fingers into you, fucking them in hard just to feel the clench of you through your orgasm, and his lips are immediately sucking your bottom lip between his teeth. 

Your mouth is slack as he tastes each sound, out of breath himself as he tries to lend all of his power behind his fingers, pulling more sounds from you before sinking them in one last time and leaving them there as he kisses the last of your orgasm out of you. 

“Shh,” He shushes you when he uses his other arm to pull you closer to him, which only forces his fingers deeper into you. “Baby, shh.” He continues to soothe you through it, still kissing, still feeling your slick gush around his fingers. “You’re shaking.” 

That little chuckle he lets out when he says those words brings you back to reality, the body-shocks of your orgasm finally subsiding just to tune in to the lack of guilt he feels. In fact, he seems proud. 

And he fucking should feel proud.

“Fuck,” You breathe against his lips, wiggling your hips and only then feeling embarrassed by the pool of wet you’re sitting in. “Mingyu, fuck.” 

He finally pulls back, keeping his fingers in you still, and tilts his head at you. 

“Mm,” He hums, nodding to himself. “Did you forget?” 

You blink at him in a daze, clenching his fingers unintentionally and wincing at the jolt of pleasure the pads of his fingers offer to your g-spot. You find yourself shaking your head, despite not knowing what the fuck either of you are saying right now. 

“Forget how much I love using my mouth on you?” He whispers it in such a filthy and deep whisper that almost instantly you’re clenching your legs around his hand. And he only chuckles again.

“Come here–” He says this time, pulling you from the counter and quickly holding you up on shaky legs. “Hold on to me, sweetheart.”

Ah, memories rush to your mind. He’s said that to you before only this time there’s more behind it. You cling to him easily even as he dips his hand down and leaves no room for question when he skews his sweatpants down. 

“Leg,” He whispers now, wrapping an arm around you and tapping the bottom of your right thigh. “Up.” 

And you listen to his directions in a daze, lifting one leg and wrapping it around his waist as he uses a strong hand to hold you up. Both of your arms shoot around his neck when you feel it, the tip of his cock being tapped against your still sensitive clit. 

“You okay?” He asks one last time, holding you so close to him that he truly can’t help but buck forward before you lend him any sort of answer. 

Your head falls against his shoulder with a frantic nod, and his body moves on its own as a response. He immediately presses his hips forward and up while simultaneously sitting you right back into your mess from before. There, you fall back against both of your palms and wrap both of your legs around his waist when you feel the stretch. 

It’s so strange to know this familiar feeling of him sinking into you, and somehow you think you love it more now than you ever did before. 

He’s quick to lean over you with a slack jaw and low rumble of a moan, one arm wrapping around your waist to scoot you forward on him when he starts to move his hips. 

Slowly at first. Just feeling you again. 

His mouth remains slack, throat drying out at all of the sounds he wants to give you. God, you’re so wet for him always. The fit is so good. The way your pussy grips him with each drag out, only to pulse around him with each push in. 

“You always take it so well–” He chokes out with another low moan, snapping his hips forward to quicken his pace. “Fuck, don’t ever–” He stumbles over his words, trying to hold them back but unintentionally saying more and more with each moaned out breath. “Don’t leave like that again.”

The words hit you harder than anything else right now. Even as he plunges his cock in and out of you so deep, it pulls nothing more than a whimper out of you with a quick shake of your head. You shoot up, arms wrapping around his shoulders, fingers buried into his hair. 

Instantly you cry. Like you needed to hear Mingyu do more than just ask or plead. You need him to tell you what he wants. You need a threat. A demand. 

“That’s it baby,” He smiles against your ear, pressing in deep and flexing his cock to stretch your walls out around him. “Hold onto me.”

And you do. You hold him as tightly as you can, feeling him and only him at this moment. 

He only moves faster after that, fucking into you with more force than you ever remember him doing before. He presses into you so hard, and pulls out even faster, only to press back in harder, and harder, and harder. 

Over and over again until you’re practically yelping through each thrust. Until he’s releasing small, animalistic grunts. 

Until he can’t do it anymore. This position, in this room? It’s not enough. 

He lifts you easily, loving the way you cling to him like a goddamn koala, keeping his cock buried into you as he walks you quickly to his couch. You land against the soft cushions in a mess of movements, and his hardened chest lands against you just a moment later. 

As if he never stopped, he’s right back to dragging his hips back and forth, this time with more comfort, and his lips immediately fall to your neck. 

His hands? Right up your shirt, groping, pinching, pushing, pulling. 

He’s going absolutely insane, spiraling into a world of nothingness with you as he plunges into you like his life depends on it. Grunting and breathing you in and out, feeling his own weeping cock yearn to be deeper, deeper, fucking deeper in you.

You can’t even think straight, unable to remember if he’s ever been with you like this before. Your mind is so foggy, so in love with the man on you right now that you don’t really even care. 

People always say that actions speak louder than words. Never once did you imagine that a person could move this way with you and speak so loudly with skin alone.

Never have you felt so wanted.

Never have you been so needed. 

And he doesn’t stop. His hips keep pace with each moan against you, his hands search and find, only to search again and grip you so tightly that you fear he will leave swollen imprints. 

You don’t mind. In fact, you want nothing more than to have Mingyu lose himself with you. Still, you can’t muster up any coherent words for him right now, because every sound you make is broken and dripping with the need for more of him. 

Forever more, nothing less. 

“God,”  He breathes out when he looks down at you, hips still moving at a painful pace. “When you look at me like that–”

His eyes roll back for a moment mid sentence before he’s heaving in a breath and his hips slow to a long and languid drag.

“When you look at me like this, it’s so hard to not–” He holds his words back with a shameful chuckle, shutting himself up with a kiss to your lips as he furrows his brows and puts his focus back into his deep thrusts. 

His words run circles in your head though, finishing his sentence for him in so many blissful ways that you feel your body tense at the pure excitement. Feeling his hips spread your legs with each thrust, making you feel sore all over, all of it, excitement.

“Hard not to, what?” You manage to breathe out against his lips, and his hips stutter at the way your voice breaks with each press into you. 

“Don’t.” He nearly pleads, pulling his hands from you and instead using them to rest at both sides of your head, balancing all of his weight there as he drops his forehead to yours. “Don’t encourage me right now.” 

You blink your eyes at him when he lifts his head again, feeling the way he slows his hips to a stop only to hold himself in place, throbbing inside of you. His eyes remain on yours, as if he wants you to challenge every word he says to you right now. 

“Hard not to–” You breathe out, feeling him snap his hips as if to warn you. “What? Mingyu.” 

He stares into your eyes, sucking his bottom lip in as he tries to remain composed. You only clench tighter around him though, causing a sort of sobbed groan to leave his throat this time.

“Tell me.” You whisper this time, clenching around him again and shifting your own hips to fuck yourself on him. 

His eyes squeeze shut as he drops his forehead against yours once more, chuckling out another moan at how impossible you are to him. 

“It’s hard to think I don’t want this.” He admits in a shaky breath, feeling the way you slide his cock in and out of you with pleasurable ease. “You.” He continues. “Hard to believe I’d ever be satisfied with you doing this with anyone other than–” 

You pause, clenching unintentionally only to feel him take over again, dangerously close to his own orgasm. 

“Me.” He finally says, cutting you off from responding by lifting from you entirely, angling his hips, and fucking dragging his hips back and forth just to send pointed japs against your g-spot. 

After being so…protective? Or possessive, maybe? He can’t help but feel embarrassed by his intense need to have you. Not just now, no. Not just because he’s horny out of his mind for you, but because he’s already felt the frustration of not having you while you stood in front of him. 

With your hand wrapped with his son’s. 

Never again. 

He wants this more than you know, more than he should ever admit to you.

“Mingyu–” You try to get out, but he throws a hand forward, more forceful than he’s ever been when he slips two fingers into your mouth just to keep you from enticing more truth from him. 

The way you suck in those fingers with a moan is enough to drive him over the edge, but he tries to hold off. 

He really tries. 

But he can’t, as he falls forward with his fingers loosely hanging from your still licking mouth, and there, he empties himself entirely into you. 

“Fuck–” He groans in frustration, his body jolting with each pulse. “You’re so–” 

You can feel each pulse and push of his thick ropes of cum, shooting inside of you only to squelch out with each little push his hips offer. And his face, nuzzled so close against your neck now that you can feel the way his breath stutters with each wave of the orgasm. 

All the way until he manages to lift with dizzy eyes, pulling his hips back to leave you empty as his cum drips out and onto the couch. 

There, he stares down at what he’s done to you before panic washes over him. 

It’s too late to go back now.

“You’re so–”

Silence, as every thought leaves his mind when he looks at you. How could he have ever formed words in the first place when you look up at him like this? 

Like he’s the whole world. 

~

The next morning, you sleep deeply next to Mingyu in the bed you missed so much. With the scent of him surrounding you and the weight of his arm thrown over you. His big and heavy limbs holding you close even in his deep sleep is enough to keep you locked into your own restful sleep. 

You feel so safe, so warm, so comfortable. Like this is where you belong. 

Nothing inside of you pulls with anxiety at this. In fact, you’re entirely too happy over the fact that you found yourself here the night before. Who cares about the circumstances anyway? 

And as you lay there, half-asleep to roll over and nuzzle your nose against his neck, you breathe in deeply, lulling yourself back to sleep in his warmth.

That is, until you hear a ‘click’ of his doorknob turning and instantly you feel your full heart shrivel to almost dust. 

“You’re fucking joking.” 

Oh my god. The fear of opening your eyes is intense but you know that voice like the back of your hand. Your eyes open against your own will and your body turns over to see Chan, standing right there at the door with a murderous glare directed at you. 

You wish it took you longer to process his figure, because honestly, you were feeling so warm in Mingyu’s grip, but now Mingyu, himself, is aggressively pulling himself away from you and rolling out of the bed. 

He’s standing to his feet instantly as if he wasn’t just attached to you at the fucking cock. On the plus side, at least, he put on sweatpants before the two of you fell asleep together. Unfortunately, he also put one of his shirts on you to sleep in too. 

What Chan is seeing in front of him is nothing that either of you can explain away. 

“You’re fucking my dad.” Chan deadpans with a bite in his voice, standing there as he heaves in a breath that seems to get more and more angry as the seconds pass.

“We broke up.” You manage to mutter out, unaware of how to handle a situation like this but knowing deep down that if you continue to see Mingyu, he still would have found out eventually. “You cheated on me, remember?”

Chan rolls his eyes at you.

“Yeah, yeah.” He waves you off just to adjust his eyes over to Mingyu, his father.

Mingyu, towering on the other side of his bed, looks apologetic. He’s unable to explain himself because what Chan is seeing right now is really the only explanation he needs. 

“You’re fucking my girlfriend?”

“We broke up!” You cut in again as you repeat yourself with a louder voice, standing from the bed and attempting to walk up to him. Mostly to try and avert his eyes from his father.

The way his eyes look straight past you and at Mingyu is terrifying enough to have you stumble back once you get too close though. It’s like Chan is seeing red, and arguably he has every right considering if anyone should be scolded, it’s definitely you. 

“Chan,” Mingyu tries to soothe the conversation as he finally processes what is happening, his voice coming out calm and collected. Not wanting this to escalate, in fact, dead set on making damn sure that it doesn’t escalate.

Another harsh shake of his head, another roll of his eyes, and then he’s fixing his gaze back on you. 

“You looked pretty comfortable, how long?”

You look to the floor, then turn to look at Mingyu. Both of you look entirely guilty, surely, but there’s something in you that feels proud. Maybe even relieved that it’s out in the open. After all, like you’ve already said twice, you broke up with him. And for good reason, mind you. 

“Why does that matter?” You answer with a bite to your tone now, essentially answering his question. 

“You cheated on me?” His voice raises, “With my dad, and still have the audacity to be upset with me over some girl at a party?!” 

“No.” Mingyu speaks up. “We stopped. Last night was the first time since–”

“Am I supposed to appreciate that?!” Chan laughs out of dumbfounded rage, stumbling back and out of the doorway with a shake to his head. As if his eyes have to be deceiving him. “What do you mean ‘we stopped.’ ?!” 

Chan feels overwhelmed. Like, he knew he fucked up with the way he acted, and really, he does care about you but what in the fuck? This is what he gets for trying to fix it? For coming to his dad first thing in the goddamn morning for advice? This is really what he gets? To see you, all cuddled in and smiling with that stupid fucking pretty face, in his own father’s t-shirt? 

Fuck that. 

He immediately turns on his heel and stomps towards the front door.

“Chan, hold on!” You call out, gripping his jacket to keep him from leaving. “I was the one who came onto him! Mingyu didn’t even–” 

“Mingyu.” He repeats the way you say his father’s name when he turns to face you, disgusted by how naturally it came from your lips. “What else do you call him?” 

You stand there in awe, looking even more guilty. You remember how Mingyu told you just to call him by his name, and so that’s all you ever called him. Never any pet names like what Chan is implying.

“Did you whine and cry for it like you always do for me?”  He seethes out, inching his face closer and closer to yours. “Was it worth every second?” 

“That’s enough,” Mingyu starts, walking up between the two of you and pulling your hand off of his son’s jacket. “Chan, that’s enough.”

Chan watches how gentle Mingyu is with your hand, eyeing how you let go the instant his fingertips touch your skin. His mind is fucking spinning in betrayal right now. 

“We need to calm down before we talk about this.”

“There’s nothing to talk about.” Chan barks back, nearly spitting in his father’s face at the way he acts like he’s not the one guilty. “You’ve been fucking my girlfiend.”

And oh, poor fucking Jihoon, standing off to the side with his mouth permanently open in shock. Honestly, Chan was anxious before coming here, questioning Jihoon over and over again on how to explain himself and fix what he fucked up. The last thing he expected was to see none other than Chan’s girlfriend rushing out of Mingyu’s room without pants on, fucking glowing with that after-sex dew.

Oh god. This sucks.

“Chan!” Mingyu raises his voice this time, grabbing his son by both shoulders and forcing him to look at him. 

And when Mingyu goes to try and explain himself, there’s nothing he can say. He simply looks at his son as his stoic face turns to that of realization. 

All Chan can do is laugh at the audacity before shrugging Mingyu’s hands off of him and glaring at you once more. 

“To think I wanted to fix things.” He breathes out, grimacing at you before shoving past you and going straight for the door. 

Chan knew he fucked up with you, but it’s not like he slept with the girl. Sure, he was in the wrong to flirt, and to let her be all over him like that, but he’s not the one who went off and fucked someone last night. The fact that you could have broken up with him and fucked literally anyone else is flooring to him. He would have forgiven you if you had it in your heart to forgive him first. 

But this? You not only went for his dad, but it hurts more knowing that his own father reciprocated?! More than once, apparently? 

You’re both guilty. 

You’re both disgusting. 

And with that, Chan slams the front door behind him and Jihoon is left staring at the shaking walls before turning to look between you and Mingyu.

Only then do you notice Jihoon there, widened eyes and a big gulp of air. 

“Fuck.” You groan, feeling dizzy and nearly falling to the floor right then and there. 

Jihoon is quick to see himself out of this awkward situation, and it’s not long before you hear the car peel out of the driveway and down the street. 

Fortunately, Mingyu is quick to come up behind you, hugging you as if everything that just happened wouldn’t stop him from touching you again. 

Or maybe you’re just too hopeful, because within an instant, his once warm hands feel cold and shaky against you. This hold on you feels…different.

Like it’s out of obligation, not out of want, or need. 

Instantly, you’re expecting him to end this right now. To end all of this with you, and it hurts more to think about how he should do that. You wouldn’t blame him, hell, no one would fucking blame him if that’s what this hug you’re getting from him is telling you. 

It hurts. Of course it hurts. The inevitable of what any rational person would do in this situation bubbling up as a mass of anxiety in your throat. You can only remain quiet, feeling the soreness take hold on your heart. 

Despite Chan being rightfully upset, despite what you’ve done, despite what Mingyu has done, you’re upset over it all simply because you can’t realistically be with Mingyu at the end of the day. No, not without ruining his life. 

Not without both of you losing Chan, and to even expect him to do that in the first place should have been your first red flag regarding yourself. 

You played them both, unintentionally, but with the best intentions at the end of the day. 

And when you feel him hold you closer, that soreness inside of you settles just a bit. All he has to do is drop his chin to your shoulder and talk against your neck with a shaking breath. 

“He’s not going to forgive either of us if we continue.” He whispers in a voice that seems both broken and firm at the same time. And he nuzzles his nose against your neck, inhaling deep before releasing a drawn out sigh with a tighter hold on you. “I understand if you want to be with my son, but I won’t be able to pretend I’m happy for either of you from this point forward.” 

You pause, feeling the anxiety well up and jumble in your head. 

“Is this an ultimatum?” You shake yourself from his grasp, feeling overwhelmed, guilty, happy that he’s suggesting that maybe, just maybe, he’d fight to keep you for himself. 

But no. Instead, Mingyu stands tall, no longer shrinking himself to your size and glancing at you with a slow and stubborn shake of his head. Now, he’s unable to keep his eye trained on you, the weight and shame of what the two of you are doing is pushing him down, down, down.

“It’s wrong.” He explains as if you don’t know. The reality is that you do know, you just prefer not to listen. You prefer not to learn from this. “I can’t just pick you over my own son.” 

You try to step forward to try and keep him from speaking. You’d do anything to keep him from speaking right now, but he isn’t budging. He doesn’t break like he usually does when you’re this close, in fact, he takes a step back and away from you. 

You feel your heart hit the floor at that moment. 

“So, it’s not an ultimatum.” Your voice cracks. “I just lost both of you.” 

Mingyu can only nod, trying to ignore that crack in your voice and the tenseness in your shoulders. 

“Which, somehow, doesn’t shock me.” You lend a pained laugh at the situation alongside a sniffle. 

“Realistically.” Mingyu finally responds, his own voice wavering just for a moment. “I shouldn’t have given in, and I shouldn’t have led you on either. We both knew it couldn’t work.” 

Why do you feel blamed for this?

“And at this point, I can’t give approval of you pursuing my son either. There’s too much between us that has happened, I wouldn’t be able to handle seeing you again.” 

“But what about everything from last ni-” You start, reaching forward and trying to grasp him, unaware that you’re about to start pleading.

“Don’t.” Mingyu’s voice wavers again when he says it, pulling away from you for what he hates for the last time. “Let’s just leave it.”

And with that, you’re left with no choice. 

You leave, realizing that Chan probably knew from the moment he pulled in considering your car sits in the driveway proudly. 

There’s nothing left here for you. 

~

Days turn to weeks, and weeks turn to months with no contact from Chan nor Mingyu. Which, that much is expected but you were still hopeful for a few weeks there. 

Not even that you want Chan based on everything that’s happened, more so that you feel like he deserves the deepest apology you could possibly offer to another person. It appears he doesn’t want nor does he need it. Every text is met with the reminder that you’re blocked. 

In time, you try to move on too. Each day is becoming easier and easier to forget how you felt, which is insane considering how deep you thought it was originally. There’s still love there, somewhere, but you’re well aware now that there’s nowhere to put it, and there is no one who wants it either. 

So, you just…exist with it until it dwindles deep enough inside of you that laughing and meeting new people becomes easy. 

Chan, on the other hand, is moving away. Thanks to Jihoon and his pre-planned transfer for the next semester, Chan was quick to jump on the plan with him and try his damndest to get a transfer in too. 

It worked out, and he left the city with his best friend in tow without so much as telling you, better yet his father. 

In fact, he doesn’t want a damned thing to do with either of you, and feels no pain or interest in thinking about what happened any longer than he already did. Months passed differently for him. They passed happily. 

And, well, that leaves Mingyu with his internal fight for his son’s forgiveness after all this time passed. 

Not a day has gone by where Mingyu wasn’t fighting with himself on whether to get on his knees and fucking beg Chan to talk to him, or to give in, again and again, just to see you. Just to feel you. Just to hear you. 

He’s going fucking insane, actually. Thankfully though, after months worth of attempts to gain forgiveness, Chan made himself very clear that he never wanted to speak to Mingyu again. Well, that leaves little to no room for Mingyu to keep trying. At least not for now. 

He is forever thankful to Jihoon though, despite knowing what he’s done to Chan, Jihoon still sends him update texts. 

“Chan has a new girlfriend,”  Mingyu found out just last month about that. 

“His grades are really good, but I wouldn't suggest asking him home for the holidays. He plans to spend them with me and my family,” Mingyu heard just a week ago. 

And, well, despite the fact that his own son has rightfully disowned him, he still feels proud that Chan appears to be happy and doing well. Even with a father as useless as he is these days, he truly is proud of him. 

So that leaves us here. Cool winter air outside, heated arguments and painful words left long forgotten to burn little patterns into every heart that was involved in the situation. 

If there’s anything Mingyu can fuck up now, he can’t imagine the outcome being worse than it already is. He tried everything to fix the situation, and it appears that this is just how things are going to be from now on. 

Without his son. 

But not without you.

~

After a long and exhausting day out with your friends, you feel good. Happy, even. Genuinely happy for the first time without the weight of past situations weighing you down. You were happy to make it home and even happier to enjoy a nice and warm shower alone.

Because finally you feel okay being entirely alone. You feel comfortable.

That is, until you check your phone and notice that you received a text message hours prior to now. Your stomach instantly drops reading the name, because you really thought you’d never live to see the day where he reaches out to you. 

Mingyu: can we talk?

Mingyu: just talking. nothing else. 

The fact that he still had your number saved. The fact that you remember how the gravel of his driveway felt under your tires when you went to see him. The fact that you can remember the coolness his kitchen counter offered to you the last time you spent the night, and the warm bed you woke up in before it went cold. 

Just like that, you’re back to square one. Reverting back to all that is Mingyu, and all of that silent, reluctant love he gave you despite the problems that would arise. 

And upon Mingyu finally seeing you again, he really, really can’t help it. 

Immediately, he’s giving in to a woman who ruined his relationship with his son without her so much as trying, giving in to the touch and feel of another person, and giving in to his own weakness.

He missed you. 

He always fucking misses you.

And at the end of the day, that’s really all he can say about the entire situation. He misses you, and despite the fact that Chan will never forgive him for this, the truth of the matter is that sometimes two people grow feelings for each other regardless of the surrounding circumstances. Chan wasn’t going to forgive him to begin with anyway. 

Regardless of losses and gains. Regardless of the whispering in town. Regardless of the pain and heartache that could inevitably come from this, Mingyu cannot keep his heart to himself. 

Especially when you so willingly accept it. Here, tangled in the sheets of his bed, hands intertwined his with, hushed breaths and warm tears. 

He doesn’t think he could ever regret what he’s done with you. In fact, it’s possible that he’d be willing to lose much, much more than to give you up again. 

There’s only one thing that drives a person to go to such drastic lengths. It’s not selfishness, it’s not lust, and it’s certainly not spite. A nagging feeling so ingrained within the heart, digging and prodding until the sorrow overflows that empty piece and fills a person with so much dread and dilemma that all they can do is either rip their hair out or fucking bite the bullet. 

Some would say it’s love. 

Mingyu would say it’s you.

this night together - chapter twelve (j.yh + s.mg)

chapter twelve: home is always home

chapter summary: you were planning to tell them how you felt on saturday, but when things go sideways at the studio you find yourself running home as fast as you can.

warnings: this is the chapter i've been warning about for a long, long time. please read responsibly if you're easily triggered by any of the following topics - guy who can't take no for an answer, aggressive/sexist language, physical and verbal assault, panic/ptsd, physical injury/blood, hospitals, police interaction (mentioned), nightmares/night terrors, self harm (sort of?)

notes: please note, if you're reading this on or around 12.3.23 when i'm posting, i've put up three chapters at once. make sure you don't skip chapter ten and eleven! additional notes under the cut~!

pairings: alpha!yunho x alpha!mingi x omega!reader

genre: smut, a/b/o/omegaverse, angst, fluff, romance, polyamory

word count: 11.6k

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for my readers who aren't that familiar with a/b/o, i'm introducing something in this chapter that you may not have seen before. i wanted to add some context! if you're new to a/b/o, there is something that alphas have often called "alpha tone", "alpha voice", or just "tone". alphas in many depictions have the ability to lower their voice in a particular way that is seen as a strict command to an omega, and it triggers/activates their submission. this is something that can be used negatively or positively, but in this scene will be negative. there's also something called headspace/subspace that you will see referenced, and an omega can be put into headspace/subspace via alpha tone. it is a bit of a dissociative state where the omega can only really hear and understand commands. this can be used negatively or positively as well, but again, definitely not good in this scene. i hope that helps.... and happy/responsible reading!!

You really, really wish today was Saturday and not Thursday. Thursday just means you still have to get through Friday and then all of Saturday morning before your scheduled dinner with Yunho and Mingi and all the things you want to say are practically eating you up inside. But there’s a right way and a wrong way to tell someone you’ve been an idiot and you’re in love with them, and blurting it out in the middle of dance practice isn’t really going to help make this easier. 

God, you hope they still want you. 

On the plus side, this week has been insane. With the full crew back things are moving at a million miles per hour, and you’ve been in more meetings about what’s coming up next in the past week than the entire time you’ve worked for BB Trippin and KQ.

Your schedule for the next six months is frankly intense. Between preparing for year-end stages and working on the choreography for the newly debuting girl group, you’re juggling conversations about New World’s next comeback and the next round of touring. With the money coming in now there’s an opportunity to take more dancers, and that just means more late nights and early mornings getting everything right. 

It’s after your third concept planning meeting of the week that you find two minutes to talk to Wooyoung, his bag already slung over his shoulder as he refills his water bottle. 

“So, you’re going?” You ask him vaguely, trying not to tip off anyone else in the vicinity that he’s got a date. 

“Yeah,” He nods, eyes flicking over your shoulder to see if San and Seonghwa are nearby, “I think I’m going to throw up,” 

“No, you’re not,” You assure him. 

“I might,” He whines, running a hand through his mop of long black hair, “I never know what to say to him,” 

“Woo,” 

“I know what to say to everyone, y/n,” He lowers his voice, panic evident in his eyes, “but every time Sangie smiles I go fucking blank,” 

“Sangie?” Your eyebrow quirks, “Is that what we’re calling him now,” 

“Shut up,” Wooyoung blushes. 

“Wow,” You prod him softly, “you’re down so bad, it’s been like three days,” 

“It’s so bad,” He grimaces, “this is embarrassing,” 

“Now you see how I feel,” You smirk, “it’s kind of fun being on this end of things,” 

“Please,” He rolls his eyes, “are you telling me you’re not panicking?” 

“Oh, no,” You laugh, “I definitely am. It’s just nice to know I’m not alone here,” 

“I was never this mean to you,”

You hold his gaze, just blinking, there’s nothing to say to that he doesn’t already know. 

“Okay, fine,” He sighs, “but still, feeling like this,” 

“Feeling like what?” Seonghwa’s voice shocks you both out of your quiet conversation and you both jump back from each other. 

“Jesus,” You breathe, “you scared me,” 

Seonghwa smiles, “Sorry,” he shrugs, “everything okay?” 

“Perfect,” Wooyoung takes a step back and shakes his head, “totally good,” 

Seonghwa’s brows come together in the middle, “You seem like something’s wrong, can I help?” 

Wooyoung almost blanches, and you know he’s dreading telling San and Seonghwa about Yeosang, so you jump in to help. “Woo was just helping me figure out Saturday,” You cover and draw Seonghwa’s attention back to you, “you know, figuring out what to say to them,”

“Oh,” Seonghwa nods, but you can see that he doesn’t really buy it, “right,” 

“Anyways,” Wooyoung starts walking backwards towards the exterior door, “I have to go, but you know, y/n, call me if you need to talk more later,” 

“I will,” You nod, “I definitely will.” 

Wooyoung knows that what you mean is that you want detailed date updates, and he almost looks mortified at the idea. He disappears fast, leaving you and Seonghwa relatively alone in the hallway. 

“What is up with him this week?” Seonghwa asks, confusion on his face. 

“He has a date,” You tell him quietly, “he’s kind of freaking out about it.” 

“Oh,” Seonghwa glances towards the door where Wooyoung just disappeared, “that’s not that weird for him,” 

“It is if he’s this interested after only a few days,” You say, “but don’t tease him. He’s kind of worked up about the whole thing,” 

“Who’s he seeing?” Seonghwa asks. 

“He should tell you that,” You beg off the gossip immediately, “just do me a favor and give him a little space to talk to you and San about it,” 

“Okay,” He draws out the word, not sure exactly where you’re going. 

“He’s nervous about upsetting the delicate balance,” You gesture towards him, referring to the carefully constructed relationship that is Wooyoung, San, and Seonghwa. 

“He’s seeing another alpha?” Seonghwa jumps to that conclusion with ease, and you can see how he would get there. 

You’re shaking your head before you can stop yourself, “It’s not that,” 

That does surprise him, and Seonghwa’s eyes widen a bit, “Oh,” 

“Right,” You nod, leading him to the conclusion as close as you can without spelling it out, “my point is, he’s nervous and he’s got a pretty serious crush, and he hasn’t said so but I think he’s scared you and San won’t approve.” 

“I would never,” He stumbles over his words, “out of anyone, we would never judge him, he has to know that,” 

“Hey,” You reach for Seonghwa, stepping a little closer so your voices stay low in the entryway as you brush your hand down his forearm, “he knows, he’s just panicking a little.” 

“Should I talk to him?” Seonghwa asks, his eyes earnest. 

“Not yet,” You shake your head, “he’ll figure it out, just don’t push him right now. I’ve never seen him this anxious,” 

“I won’t,” He promises, “thank you for telling me,” 

“Mhm,” 

Seonghwa chews over your words a second and then decides to let it drop. With a sigh he refocuses on work, “Are you staying late?” 

“Yeah,” You shrug, “I have some things to catch up on. You?” 

“I need to track down San,” He says, “but then after that I’m probably heading out a little early,” 

“Nice,” You nod, “still shaking off the jetlag?” 

He nods, “Unfortunately,” 

Down the hall you watch a few of the dancers gathering up their belongings, and then the door to the back office opens to reveal Yunho and Mingi, sitting close together and studying a computer screen as Jaemin leaves for the day. 

“Well,” Your feet are already moving, “then I’ll see you later,” 

“Sounds good,” He says, and then he gives you a knowing look, seeing exactly where you’re headed. 

Before you know it, you’re moving through the people in the hall and trying desperately to come up with a reason for crashing their tete-a-tete. 

“Hey,” You knock softly on the open door, “am I interrupting?” 

“No, no,” Yunho smiles when he sees you and your stomach bubbles. 

“We’re just watching back practice,” Mingi leans back in his chair, rubbing his tired eyes. 

“Oh, nice,” You say, and your empty words do little to fill the empty space. 

“Do you… need something?” Yunho tries. 

“Ah, yeah, sorry,” You scramble internally for something to say, “I’m staying late, but I’m kind of starving, I just didn’t know if you still had stuff stashed?” 

“Sure,” He gestures towards the cabinets on the side wall, “whatever you want, help yourself,” 

“Great,” You dash towards the cabinets, and you can’t even imagine eating right now with how fluttery your insides have been, but you snag a couple of protein bars anyways. 

The silence is brutal. Not like before, not like the tense and uncomfortable angry silences of the past, but it’s still sitting there between you. Part of you wants to shut the door right now and just get it all out there, but again, you know you shouldn’t. 

Mingi’s warm, chocolatey scent is richer in here, evident after a hard practice of working up a sweat and being given a chance to permeate with the door closed. You feel your body naturally relaxing at it, so comforting and familiar, and then you get the first pang of Yunho’s warm, summer rain. 

You can hardly believe how you convinced yourself that this wasn’t scent sympathy when right here and now it’s so obvious they belong to you. You wonder if they feel it too. 

“Are you okay?” Mingi’s voice snaps you out of your sudden daydream staring at the cabinet full of snacks. 

“Yeah, yes,” You shut them and step back, “I’m fine, just a little tired.” 

“Not sleeping well?” Yunho says, concern all over his features. 

“I’m fine,” You wave him off, “just a busy week,” 

“You don’t have to stay late,” Mingi offers, “I’m sure whatever you’re working on will still be fine tomorrow,” 

“I know,” You nod, “but if I don’t get it out of my system I’ll just be thinking about it all night, you know how it is,” 

Mingi nods, “Still, take it easy later,” 

“I will,” You promise, and you start to turn towards the door when the words just bubble up out of your throat, “you’re both still free Saturday, right?” 

“Yeah,” Mingi answers for them both, “are you?” 

“Definitely,” You nod, “I just wanted to make sure, I’m looking forward to it,” 

“We could do tomorrow instead,” Yunho offers, “after practice?” 

“As long as you don’t have other plans,” Mingi cuts in, “for a Friday night,” 

“Tomorrow works,” You jump at the chance, “I’d actually love that, I just didn’t want to crowd you when you’re adjusting to the timezone again,” 

“It’s fine,” Mingi brushes that thought off, “I’d rather see you,” 

“Yeah,” Yunho nods, “it’ll be good to catch up,” 

You smile, “I want to hear all about the trip,” 

“The trip,” Mingi says, just repeating your words like he’s weighing them out on his own tongue. 

Something about his voice sends a sharp zing up the back of your spine. 

Your body feels a little soft, relaxing bit by bit. 

Yunho’s eyes flick over you, “Are you sure you need to stay late?” 

Something your primal little brain cannot handle right now is the thought of your alphas being protective, not when you’re standing in this room encased by their scents that feel a little too right. Your stomach tightens and you pray that you’re not blushing pink at the flickering thought in your mind of them taking you home. 

You need to get out of this room before they realize it. 

“I’m good,” You tell him, stepping backwards towards the door, “but thank you, and dinner tomorrow is perfect,” 

Mingi says something, you think he’s agreeing, but you’re giving another excuse over your shoulder about how you need to get back to it so you can make it out of this room. 

Your heart is practically beating out of your chest as you leave the office and make it down the hall, heading for the studio room you’ve booked for the afternoon. You nearly run into Dahan and Minseok as you cut around the corner, but you apologize quickly and barely give them a second glance as you hide yourself away in one of the dance studios alone. 

With the door firmly shut you lean back against the closed door and take a deep breath. These feelings are going to work you into a frenzy if you don’t get them under control. Scent sympathy is rare, an almost perfect match between an alpha and omega that makes every part of a relationship heightened, especially once that initial sympathetic bond is fulfilled with a claim. While they were gone you came to that conclusion slowly, the steady ache in your chest so clearly informed by the lack of them, but now that they’re back and here the realization of it collides into you full-force. 

You love them, that’s true. But what’s more is how much you need them, and how much you hope they need you. You can’t let them realize it before you have the chance to say everything you need to say, and if you had stayed in that room a few minutes more they might have felt themselves. With the dinner moved to Friday you just have one more night to get through. One more night, and one more day of work. And then the chips will fall where they may. 

With a deep breath you let the hammering of your heart slow and then you focus back on the work ahead. The more you pour yourself into work the faster these 24 hours will go, so you put your head down and get to it. 

You work for a long time, probably too long, until your muscles are positively aching and any thoughts of Yunho and Mingi are drowned out by lyrics to the chorus of this song that just keeps looping in your mind as you try different patterns of footwork. Here in this bubble you don’t know who’s still at work, who’s left for the day, what time it is, or if the sun has set yet. You just know your own body and every which way that it moves to this one singular song. 

Your hair is hot around your face, sweat clinging to your brow as you finish out the latter half of the choreography that you’re confident with. It’s fast, and includes so much up and down floor work you’re pretty sure you’d be passing out if you weren’t hydrating properly. Focused on your reflection in the mirror you gather your hair up and away and into a knot and then move to find your towel and water bottle. 

The door to the studio opens behind you, and you glance back without really seeing who’s popping in, “Hey,” 

For a split second it occurs to you that it might be Yunho or Mingi and your stomach flips as you start to turn. 

“Hey, y/n,” Minseok’s voice is a bit of a surprise. 

“Oh, hey,” 

He looks like he’s just stopping by to grab something from the far desk in the corner. You’re honestly surprised that he’s still here, he had looked on his way out earlier when you bumped into him in the hall.  

“Are you heading out for the night?” You take a drink of water and catch your breath, leaning against the mirrored wall behind you. 

“Soon,” He nods, running a hand through his dark hair and snagging a sweatshirt hanging over the back of the office chair. 

“Well,” You smile, “have a good night,” 

“You too,” He says as he walks past you, but then his steps slow and you hear him sigh before he turns on his heel, “listen, can I ask you something?” 

“Sure,” 

“I hope you don’t think this is weird,” He takes a few more steps back towards you, “but I’ve actually been meaning to ask you something for a while now,” 

“Oh,” Your eyebrows raise, and suddenly you can see everything in his expression. You know this look. You know the way men get when they finally rip off the bandage and change the equilibrium of a room, the moment they decide they can’t see you as just a friend. What absolutely terrible timing he has.

“I was thinking,” He says, a little pause before the rest and you hope you’re keeping your face nice and neutral, “do you think I could take you out some time?” 

“Out?” The word leaves you. 

He smiles, “Yeah, out, like a date.” 

“I appreciate that,” You shake your head a little, trying to smile and keep things light, “but I don’t think so,” 

His lip quirks and his nose scrunches and you suppose that if you were interested you might find this part of him charming, but you’re not, so it isn’t. “Are you seeing someone?” He asks. 

“No,” You tell him honestly, “not right now.”

“So, I can’t get you to give me one chance?” He takes a step forwards, gesturing between you both and keeping his gaze hopeful. 

“I really don’t think that’s a good idea,” You shake your head, “we work together.” 

“Oh, it’s fine,” He assures you, brushing past the boundary you tried to set with casual indifference, “don’t worry about that.” 

“Still,” You shake your head, “but thank you for asking.” 

You’re not at all thankful for him asking, but he’s nice enough, and it feels like the polite way to keep the status quo. 

“That’s a shame,” He admits, his smile dropping almost entirely, “are you sure I can’t convince you to give me just one chance? I really do like you, y/n,” 

“I’m sure,” That should be firm enough. 

“I thought we were getting along well,” He cuts off the end of your words, “becoming friends.” 

“I thought so too,” You straighten up off the wall behind you, tossing your towel over your shoulder and setting up to walk right out of the studio room if that’s what it would take to end this interaction, “I thought we were friends,” 

You can’t help but emphasize the word friends, and you watch the moment his expression drops more, annoyance flicking through his jaw. 

“I didn’t think you had such a problem seeing people you worked with,” He says pointedly. 

“Excuse me?” 

“It’s just that,” He shrugs, nodding towards you, “I didn’t think it bothered you. Considering.”

“Listen,” You lock eyes with him, “let it go. I’m trying to be nice about this, but I can be clearer. I am not interested in going out with you.” 

“You don’t have to be rude,” 

“Goodnight, Minseok,” You’re not staying for this. 

“I’m a good guy,” He says as you start towards the door, “don’t, come on just stay a second,” 

You keep walking. 

“y/n,” He says, his voice startlingly close behind you, “stay.” 

It’s like your legs stop working, an echoing strike of nerves down your spine and you stumble slightly as his hand closes around your wrist. 

“Let go of me.” You start to turn towards him, pulling your arm back as you do, but he speaks again. 

“Stop.” His voice is so low suddenly, situated smack in the center of his chest, a tenor you’ve never heard from him before. Your legs stop working all together, suddenly feeling like lead.

“Take your hands off me.” You blink hard, your head feeling a little full suddenly. 

“I just don’t understand,” He bites, “we’ve been flirting for weeks.” 

You can’t find the words to tell him that you being nice isn't flirting, but you’re stunned into silence. You can barely even think of a time when you had a sustained conversation with him where someone else wasn’t present. How could interactions that felt so routine to you feel so significant for him? 

“And you’re just… not interested?” He scoffs, “You’re what, twenty-six? Twenty-seven? You’re going to start running out of good offers.” 

So many things about Seo Minseok fall into place with just those words. The way that just a few weeks ago he barely looked at you, barely spoke to you. Always spending his attention on the alphas in the room around you, but never you. How when that tide shifted you thought, maybe naively, that he was just shy. But he’s not shy, not in the least. He’s just another alpha in a long line of alphas who look down their noses at omegas until there’s something they want from them. 

“That’s really none of your concern,” You shake your head, “now get the fuck off me.” 

“Be quiet.” His jaw sets hard. 

So does yours. 

A thousand thoughts run through your brain like a wildfire eating up a hillside of dry bark but nothing can make it past your lips. The tone of his voice has you rooted to the spot, his instructions not suggestions but strict commands. It’s been a long time since you’ve heard an alpha use tone, but it’s certainly the first time it’s been directed at you. You’ve heard stories, the way the primal omega brain surfaces even when you don’t want it to. You thought it was a bit of an overstatement, but now on the receiving end you can’t control your response to him and fear floods you. 

“You talk a lot for an unmated omega,” He looks disappointed. 

Something shrinks inside you. 

His fingers tighten, his body suddenly closer, “But we can fix that.” 

In a breath his hands push you backwards, your back suddenly cold against the mirrored wall of the practice room. Later, much later, you’ll discover that the reason your memory of this moment is patchy is a combination of your omega’s response to alpha tone and full dissociation. You’ll remember little pieces, quick sensations here and there. The same song still looping through the stereo, the sound of his deep inhale with his face pressed against your throat, the sharp pin pricks of his teeth as he seeks out the soft juncture of your neck and shoulder. The way your mind in one heaving breath both screams in rebellion and folds open in acceptance when he successfully locates your gland. 

You suddenly can’t hear right, can’t think right. All you know is his teeth. The hot feeling of breath. He smells like burnt, bitter oranges. He’s talking again, saying something that your conscious mind can’t register, but your omega does, and you stretch your neck long to give him the access he needs. 

And then you’re under. 

You’re dropping before you consciously register your brain entering a new, hazy middle space. It feels like being at the bottom of a deep pool, the sudden, immersive quiet. You understand that someone is talking to you, or around you, but all you can hear is the echoing tenor of an alpha, the words unclear, all cocooned in the water around you. 

There’s a bang somewhere but it feels far away, and you feel pin pricks against your throat. 

Minseok’s overwhelming acrid scent and heavy pressure against you is gone, the sudden loss of his weight leaving you off balance. You think you’re falling, or maybe you’ve already fallen. The world feels tilted, something hard and cold under your back. You smell something sharp and tangy, and there’s something loud in the room but you can’t understand it. Everything is white, bright and intrusive. 

Mingi’s face swims into your vision, and you feel his hands on your cheeks. It takes you a minute to understand anything, but he looks upset, stricken and his cheeks are tinged pink with panicked anger. You want to reach up, soothe his brow and see what’s wrong, but you can’t lift your hand. Don’t move an inch. 

“Jesus,” Mingi glances to his side, “he put her in subspace,” 

Someone responds, but it’s muffled to your ears. 

Mingi’s face darkens entirely, his hands leave you, “I’ll fucking kill him,” 

He’s gone. There’s a scuffle to your side, but you can’t turn your head, you want to, you just can’t. Tears bubble in your eyes, emotion pulsing through you and your breath is tight and thready in your throat. A sharp, whining sob bubbles from your lips. 

Warm rain swims through you, and Yunho’s there, sliding right into the spot Mingi left. His eyes dart over your face and then he looks to his side, his voice firm, “Calm down or get out of here, do you understand me? You’re scaring her,” 

There’s a long beat, noises to your side again but you can’t understand it. Your stomach flips nervously, the place you’re stuck in your head throbbing a sharp spike through your brain. 

Yunho’s warm, brown eyes settle back on yours, his face calm and easy, “Can you hear me, y/n?” 

You can, but you can’t make your mouth work. Don’t move an inch. 

“Can you hear me? y/n?” He asks again, his thumb brushing your cheek, “You’re safe, he’s not going to touch you again,” 

The hard feeling of Minseok’s hands on your hips pushing you into the practice room mirror snaps inside you and you release a soft sound. 

“You can hear me,” Yunho nods, “come on, wake up,” 

“Yunho,” Mingi’s voice is close again, hard and steady, “that’s not going to work,” 

“Why?” Yunho looks up to his friend, “she can hear me, she’s okay,” 

“She’s in subspace,” Mingi pushes his friend to the side, coming into your eye line, “she’s dropped so far under it’s going to take more than that,” 

“W-what do we do?” Yunho’s voice is shaky. 

“Let me try something,” Mingi murmurs, and then his eyes lock squarely on yours. 

Yunho slips his hand into yours, holding you tightly, but you can’t squeeze him back. 

“Omega,” Mingi’s voice is firm, and it’s the clearest thing you’ve heard since sinking under the water, “Come up now.” 

Don’t move an inch.

“You need to come up now,” His fingers tighten on your cheek, “listen to me.” 

Don’t move an inch. 

“Why isn’t this working?” Yunho asks, squeezing your fingers. 

“I’m not sure,” Mingi’s voice is low, and then he shifts closer to your face, “y/n. Omega. Listen to me now,” 

All you can do is manage to make a quiet, tight noise, and even to your muddled brain you can hear the tenor of distress. 

“Come up now,” Mingi repeats, “right now. Listen to me, omega.” 

You’re being torn in two, your primal brain fighting you every step of the way. 

He swallows hard, his voice dropping low in his chest, “Don’t disobey your alpha,”

Suddenly nothing but his voice exists. 

Mingi’s expression is cold, tight and ruthless, his rich tone cuts straight to your core, “When you’re given a directive, you follow it. Now,” He locks his hands on either side of your face and his next words are a pointed and perfectly clear command, “Come. Up.”  

The room is so much louder than you thought a moment ago. There’s shouting outside and you vaguely register San’s voice amongst the mix. The music from practice is still on low. Yunho’s leg is bouncing nervously, the athletic fabric making a rhythmic swish with every bob of his knee. You can hear your blood rushing in your ears. 

“I’m sorry,” You choke out, the first feeling that floods back into your body is intense shame.

“Oh my god,” Mingi’s expression crumbles and he pulls your limp body into his arms “you’re here? You’re with us?”

“M-Mingi,” Your vision clouds with tears again and every feeling that tried to course through your body while you were in subdrop crashes into you sideways.

“Shh,” He rocks you in his arms, “we’ve got you, we’re right here, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,”

A dull throb radiates through your skull and Yunho takes a sharp inhale, “She’s bleeding,”

“What?” Mingi pulls back, his hand searching your body.

“Here,” Yunho brushes the back of your hair, his fingers coming away with a small line of blood, “it’s not too bad,”

“What happened?” You reach for the cut at the back of your head, nervous tears coming up as you try to understand.

“You don’t remember?” Yunho asks.

“I’m,” You swallow hard, “it was practice? Or I was practicing? I had the room booked.”

“Yeah,” Yunho nods and squeezes your hand, “what else?”

The date. The hard set of Minseok’s jaw when you said no. His hands on your hips, his lips on your neck, the soft drag of his teeth and the flat of his tongue over your gland. Your shirt tearing when he hauled you up against the mirrors. Hands everywhere. Hands nowhere. The white ceiling. His voice, harsh and direct in your ears, the alpha tone unmistakable. Submit. Heel. Don’t move an inch. 

Your mouth is suddenly hot and watery, and your hands are shaking, “I’m… I’m going to be sick,”

“Shit,” Yunho moves fast, sliding across the floor to grab the wastebasket that sits under the desk, pushing it into your hands. 

You wretch instantly, shaking and heaving, losing the contents of your stomach into the plastic bin. 

“Okay,” Mingi soothes, gathering up your hair into one hand and holding it away from your face, “you’re okay,”

“He touched me,” Your hands won’t stop shaking, his voice flooding back, and you heave again, “the things he said,”

“Shh,” Yunho shifts closer, rubbing a hand up and down your back, “you’re safe. None of that is true,” 

“He talked to me like a dog,” You sob, “and I couldn’t move, he told me not to move and I just let him,”

“No.” Mingi’s voice is harsh and you twitch under his hands, “He used alpha tone on you, he wanted you to stop fighting and he said it in tone until you couldn’t hear anything else. You didn’t let him do anything,” 

“I’ve never,” You wretch again, a dry heave with nothing to give and it makes your eyes watery. 

“We’re right here,” Yunho murmurs, “you’re safe.”

When you’re sure your stomach will hold, you push the wastebasket away and drop back to the floor, your head throbbing, “I’ve never been in subspace,”

“You’re not there now,” Mingi soothes.

“I don’t remember,” You manage, looking down at your mussed clothes, “it’s so muddled I can’t remember,”

“What can’t you remember?” Yunho asks softly.

You’re pretty sure you’d register it if his attempt at claiming had been successful, if the word attempt should even be in consideration at all, but the end is so fuzzy you just have to know. “Did he… did we?”

“No.” Yunho’s firm, sliding in front of you so he can make you look into his eyes, “absolutely not,”

Your mouth tastes terrible, but it’s the overwhelming bitter smell of him on you that doubles it and makes you want to throw up again even though your stomach is empty. 

“All I can smell is him,” You scrub your hands under your eyes to wipe away tears, “I can’t even breathe,”

“Take her,” Mingi says, “I’m getting water,”

Yunho pulls you into his arms, sitting back against the mirrored wall for some support and cradling you to his chest, “Come here, is this okay?” 

“Make it go away,” You hold onto his shirt and sigh into his neck, “please, Yunho, please,”

“Just breathe,” He soothes you, “I have you,” 

He smooths his thumbs over the glands in your wrists, easing the initial panic inside you, and then gently draws your head back with his hand, “It’s only me,” He murmurs, “you know I’d never hurt you,” 

Yunho licks a long stripe up your neck, and instantly your body starts to release, tense muscles unlocking and your fingers falling slack. His scent washes over you, enveloping you tenderly. 

“Y-Yunho,” you shudder as he licks another long stripe, moving to suck softly on the fleshy part of your neck that narrowly avoided teeth marks.

“Yes?” He kisses your neck softly, and licks again. 

“Thank you for coming for me,” You exhale slowly.

He stills, sinking closer and resting his closed lips on your shoulder. When he breathes in you hear the catch of emotion, “I thought we were too late,”

“I’m okay,” You murmur, and it’s starting to feel true now that he’s washing away Minseok’s scent.

“God,” He sighs into your skin, “when I heard you scream… I’ve never heard anything that terrifying in my life, I’ve never run so fast,”

“Did I scream?” You don’t remember it.

“Bloody murder,” He nods, pulling back to look at your eyes.

“Yunho,” Your eyes flick up towards the open door of the practice studio, “where is he?”

His hands tighten on you, “Probably nursing his broken ribs. The guys have him,”

Your eyes widen, and the realization that he’s still under the same roof has you trembling in his arms, “He’s still here,”

“Not for long,” He murmurs, “we called the police,”

“But,” Your mind is spinning and you feel the weight of him on your chest once more, “what if he comes back?”

“y/n,” Yunho draws your eyes away from the door, “San and Seonghwa have him, and he’s in rough shape. He’s probably focused on trying to breathe, not thinking about you anymore. And even if none of that were true and he did come back,” he says, “I’d put him on the floor faster than you could blink. Mingi and I both would.”

Your muscles start to relax again, “Okay,”

“You are completely safe,”

Mingi reappears a few moments later, bottles of water in hand, and he smiles warmly, “Hey, you,”

“Hey,”

“Feeling a little better?” He asks, settling on the hard practice room floor and passing you an open bottle.

“I don’t know,” You murmur honestly, shifting in Yunho’s arms so that you’re resting on his lap with your back against his chest. You take a long drink of water and sigh. 

“Listen,” Mingi smooths a hand across your thigh, “the police are going to want to talk to you. They’ll be here within the hour and then we’ll go to the hospital.”

“Why?” You tense.

“Your head,” He nods.

“It’s stopped bleeding,” Yunho assures you, “but he’s right, you could have a concussion.”

“I don’t have a concussion,”

“I didn’t realize you had a medical degree,” Mingi says, a little edge to his voice.

Hot tears well in your eyes at his tone, and you shrink back into Yunho’s arms. You know rationally he didn’t mean to scare you, he’s just worried about you, but after the day you’ve had you can’t help but shrink back in fear.  

“Hey,” Yunho presses his lips to your neck, “it’s alright, Mingi didn’t mean it like that”

Mingi’s eyes blow wide, “Fuck, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean anything,”

“I know,” You tip your head to the side to offer more of your throat to Yunho’s soothing touches, “I’m just not myself,”

“It’s okay,” Yunho says again, returning to your neck and peppering kisses across your gland, and something about this should feel intimate and awkward when you haven’t talked to them yet, but all you can feel is safe.

“Really,” Mingi reaches for you, but doesn’t touch you, “I just want you to let us help, and I’m so angry with Minseok I could kill him, but I didn’t mean to put that on you,”

“Mingi,” You take his outstretched hand, “I’m okay, you just startled me, and you’re right anyways. I’ll come to the hospital,”

He sighs in relief.

“After,” Yunho murmurs, “would you - I mean, will you please come home with us tonight?”

It’s strange how much you feel like it is home, despite only spending your heat there, months ago, so long ago now you shouldn’t still feel this preternatural pull. 

“I don’t know,” You say, even though your body is begging you to agree, to stay with them and only them. 

“I know it’s been different between us,” He murmurs, arms tightening around you, “but you know how I feel. I just don’t want you to be alone tonight, someone should be with you,” 

“Someone you feel safe with,” Mingi adds, “if that’s us,” 

“It is,” You lock your hand down on Mingi’s, “I’m sorry, this is… of course you’re safe, of course you are. I’m just,” 

“Let’s talk about this later,” Mingi smiles, shooting a look at Yunho you can’t quite make sense of, but brushing your fears to the side all the same, “for now, let’s just get you taken care of.” 

You shudder out a breath, letting the warmth and safety of their bodies sink into you. You turn into Yunho, resting your cheek on his chest and matching your breath in time to his. Your thoughts spin, bubbling over as threads of the incident come back to your mind and you press your eyes closed before the question slips out, “Why did he do it?” 

Yunho wraps his arms around you a little tighter, dropping his lips to your hair, “I don’t know,” 

Mingi clears his throat, “He’s about to hit his rut,” he says, “that’s what his excuse was. He said he’s… he kept saying how sorry he was, but,” 

Your eyes snap open, “Sorry? He’s sorry?” 

“Sorry someone interrupted him, maybe,” Mingi’s voice is hard, his eyes firm and unrelenting, “a rut doesn’t make you do that. Not like that.” 

Yunho shakes his head in agreement, “Definitely not,” 

You know that, of course you know it, but after seeing Minseok’s black eyes you’re not so sure. You had never felt completely comfortable with him, but in the past you would have chalked that up to personality differences, and in the past few weeks that had all started to change. He was the kind of guy you wouldn’t date, but you wouldn’t worry about bothering you. 

You sigh softly, “He didn’t seem like himself,” 

“Mm,” Mingi hums, non-committal. 

“A rut doesn’t make it impossible to hear the word no,” Yunho says firmly, “you don’t become some mindless animal. What he tried to do… that’s… a rut’s an easy excuse.” 

You tense up in his arms, a brief flicker of what could have been. His teeth in your neck, your mind spinning into submission. 

“Yunho,” Mingi shakes his head at his best friend, glancing down at you to indicate that it’s not something you can hear right now. 

“I’m sorry,” Yunho soothes, holding you closer if it’s at all possible. 

Your chest tightens, “Can I… I need to get up,” 

His arms relax immediately, hands shifting under your elbows to help support you while Mingi jumps up and offers you his hands to pull you up. Back on your own two feet you waver a minute, but you shake off the dizzy spell and try to get your bearings again. They're waiting on a razor’s edge, hands out and ready to intervene, but you’ve made it clear that for the moment you don’t want to be touched. 

A shout from the hall leaves you jumping, but you register Wooyoung’s voice a moment later, “Where is she?” 

“The studio,” San’s voice replies, “slow down,” 

“Is he in the back office? Give me a fucking minute alone with him,” Wooyoung’s voice is murderous and you smile at how ready your best friend sounds to do battle on your behalf, “I’ll show him what an omega can fucking do,” 

“Youngie,” San’s voice is even and warm, keeping things soft, “you need to calm down,” 

“Calm down,” He scoffs, his voice getting closer as he travels down the hall and you know he’s almost at the door. 

“I hardly think y/n needs,” San starts to say, but then they round the corner. 

Wooyoung’s eyes are wild, searching and terrified, and something inside you shatters. San’s words die on his lips when he sees you, and in a startling moment of clarity you rush forwards and into Wooyoung’s arms. 

“Shh, shh,” He wraps you up tight, one hand at the back of your head as he rocks you back and forth, “you’re safe, you’re in one piece,” 

“Woo,” Tears come fast, and you bury your face in his chest. 

“Stupid fucking alphas,” He curses into your shoulder and you can hear his breath hitched and clouded with tears of his own, “acting like they can take whatever they want,” 

You’re sure the rest of the room is bristling at that comment but you couldn’t care less. 

“You want me to break the rest of his ribs?” He kisses your head, “I’ll make it look like a fucking accident, I swear to God,” 

“Woo,” You laugh into his chest, vision blurry with unshed tears, “stop, that’s insane,” 

“I am nothing if not a little insane,” Wooyoung squeezes you, “and you and me? We protect each other, right?” 

“Always,” You grip the back of his shirt like a lifeline. 

The bond between omegas can’t be understood by a single other person in the room, maybe even in the building. You cling to each other in the middle of the studio floor, encased in this moment of shared grief. Of what you are and what that means. He shifts you in his arms so he can look at your face, cupping your tear stained cheeks. 

The sight of his own tears makes yours come faster, “What did I do?” 

His expression hardens and he shakes his head, sucking in a harsh breath, “Nothing, not a single fucking thing. Do you hear me?” 

“Woo,” You want him to let you go. You want him to tug you close again. 

He shakes your shoulders hard, and in your periphery you see Mingi take a half step forward as Wooyoung pushes back on your words, “You didn’t do anything. You’re existing, and he tried to take advantage of that. This isn’t your fault, there’s nothing you could have or should have done.” 

You open your mouth to say something but he plows forward. 

“Alphas take, alright?” He shakes you again, more gently this time, “We’re lucky. You and me, we found good ones, but alphas are programmed to take, and we’re programmed to give. He used it against you. Nothing else.”

Your breath hitches, and you launch yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his neck and letting him cradle you again. 

“Shh, shh,” He rubs your back, soothing you again. 

“I hate this,” You manage, your face buried in his shoulder. 

“I know,” He eases you, “I fucking hate it too,” 

You hold each other a little longer until both of your tears start to subside. You stay steady in his grip, his fresh salt and cotton scent lulling you into safety. The buzzing of your brain starts to release, and the fear is still there under your skin but at least for now it’s low and letting you breathe. 

Nuzzling into his shoulder you sigh, “What are you doing back here anyways?” 

“San called,” He kisses your hair, “I broke several laws getting here,” 

You laugh against his collarbone where his oversized t-shirt is pulled down, no doubt from the way your hands grip whatever part of him you can. 

He rubs a warm hand up and down your back and when he speaks again it’s not to you, this time he addresses the alphas in the room. He clears his throat softly, head lifting up and away from yours, “So, who busted his nose?” 

“Uh,” Yunho makes a small sound behind you, “that would be me,” 

“Good,” Wooyoung says, “when she stops crying I’m giving you a handshake,” 

You smile against his damp skin and shake your head, “I’m not crying, I’m fine,” 

“Sure,” Wooyoung murmurs, but he doesn’t let you go, just strokes your back more until you settle further into him. 

“The police will be here soon,” San murmurs, his voice staying relaxed and steady to make sure everything stays level in the room. 

“Right,” Wooyoung sighs, “y/n, can I let you go? I don't have to if you’re not ready,” 

You nod immediately though, unwinding your arms from him and taking a ginger step back. He gives you a soft smile, and you scrub the last of the tears from your face with the sleeves of your sweatshirt. He gives you a minute to stand steady and then turns to Yunho and Mingi who both look frozen and unsure of what to do or what to say. 

“You both got him off her?” He says, matter of fact. 

“Yeah,” Mingi’s voice is tight, like he had been choking back tears of his own, and Yunho simply nods. 

“Thank you,” Wooyoung tugs Mingi into a hug and squeezes him tight before shifting to Yunho to hug him too, “seriously,” 

Once they break apart, you’re left all in a haphazard circle, and you can feel all the eyes on you. It makes you so tired, dizzy, ready to be done and just crawl under a blanket for the rest of the week. In the back of your throat you still taste bitter orange. 

“Um,” Your voice comes out a little more scratchy than you want, and you clear your throat, letting everything fade. 

“What is it?” Yunho asks gently. 

You don’t know how to ask this, how to beg them to keep holding you together so you can just get through existing in this room. You sigh, the deep exhale making you dizzy again, and step towards him, “C-can I,” 

He opens his arms immediately, letting you close the space so he doesn’t assume your needs, but as you collide with him again he responds perfectly, scooping you up into his arms and letting you wrap your legs around his waist. He supports you with ease, an arm under your thighs and another situated high on your back. 

“Better?” He murmurs, smiling a little as you bury your head in his neck. 

You nod into his neck, and then you allow yourself one tiny moment of weakness, listening to your body and what it needs for once over your anxiety. You mumble it into his neck, but he hears you when you say, “Yunho?” 

“Yeah, baby?” His voice is so soft, quiet like he’s afraid of what you might say. 

You don’t miss the way Wooyoung’s eyebrows go high at the endearment, but you ignore him and focus instead on the man holding you up, together, in one solid piece. You lift your head so he hears you clearly, “Will you please take me home?” 

He goes still and turns his head just a little, “Your apartment or,” 

“Take me home with you,” You repeat, “I want to go home,” 

This will surely just make everything more muddled and foggy between the three of you tomorrow in the cold light of day, but you don’t care. Right now you just want to be home, in whatever form that means. 

He exhales low and shaky, “Alright,” he murmurs, kissing your throat softly to help calm your trembling, “I’ve got you, let’s go home,” 

A warm wide palm rests on the center of your back, and Mingi leans in close to catch your eyes, “y/n, can you look at me a second?” 

You pull your head up from the crook of Yunho’s neck where you’ve just been taking deep steady inhales of wet earth and meet his eyes. 

“Hey,” He smiles. 

Your eyes dart between him and Wooyoung, who seems suddenly ancy. “What?” You straighten up a little more in Yunho’s arms. 

“You can go wherever you want,” He starts off, “but do you want us to take you home, or would you feel more comfortable with Wooyoung? Or… Seonghwa, if… if that would be better for how you’re feeling,” 

Yunho tenses a little, his fingers tightening where he holds you, and you can feel him physically holding himself back from saying a single word, from begging you to come with them. 

You’ve made up your mind though, and within a second you’re shaking your head, “No, I want you,” 

Yunho relaxes, his lips returning to your throat and you sigh. 

“Then you have us,” Mingi assures you. 

The sound of the elevators in the hall stop you all cold though, and San holds up his hands, “I’ll go see, it’s probably the police,” 

The idea of talking to them suddenly makes you sick, and you’re sure it shows all over your face. 

“It’s going to be fine,” Wooyoung jumps back in, “don’t worry, we’ll be there the whole time.” 

You need this to be done. You grip down on Yunho’s shoulders, “I want to go home,” 

“I know,” Mingi nods. 

“Y-Yunho,” You’re scrambling a little in his arms, sudden panic swirling in your gut, and you twist to find his eyes, “please, get me out of here, please take me home,” 

You feel it the minute he chooses you over anything else, “Okay, alright,” 

“You need to talk to the cops,” Wooyoung shakes his head, trying to reason with you. 

You’re trembling in Yunho’s arms and he shakes his head, “She needs to go,” 

Mingi senses your heightened emotions too and you feel it when he moves closer, both of them shifting to protect you, “She can do this later,” 

“I don’t know that that’s such a good idea,” Wooyoung insists. 

“I couldn’t give a fuck,” Yunho grips you tighter, “we’re taking our girl home,” 

“Your-” Wooyoung scoffs when he hears the words, “fucking alphas,” 

“Who she wants to take her home,” Mingi points out, a distinct edge to his voice. 

“Stop arguing,” You beg them, hanging onto Yunho’s shoulders, “please, please,” 

“Fuck,” Yunho relaxes, stroking your back, “I’m sorry, of course we won’t, I’m sorry,” 

Mingi brushes his hand over the back of your head and Wooyoung gives you an apologetic face, his defensiveness over you is understandable, but he also knows how you feel about these men and you watch him choose to hold his tongue. 

A knock on the door brings you all back to the present, San handling the situation with more grace than any of you combined, “The police said that they can speak with you at the hospital and make it brief.” 

You exhale heavily and nod against Yunho, “Okay, fine,” 

“Are you sure?” Mingi strokes your cheek. 

“I just want to be done,” 

“Should we stay with you?” Yunho murmurs. 

“Please,” You grip his shoulders. 

“Alright,” He sighs, “Woo, could you… I’m sorry, can you grab her things? Let’s just try to make this quick for her,” 

Wooyoung clears his throat, his eyes never leaving yours, “Yeah, I got it,” 

“Uh,” San interrupts as you all try to gather your things, “Yunho, they want to talk to you first, they’re waiting in the back office,” 

“Oh,” 

“They have some questions,” San explains quietly, “but she she doesn’t need to be there for that,” 

“Right,” Yunho nods and then presses a kiss to your hair, “can I put you down, sweetheart?” 

Your chest warms. 

“No, here,” Mingi cuts in, his hand sweeping over your back and you feel them shift you from Yunho’s arms to his, “come here,” 

He settles you against his chest and you wrap around him just the same, soaking in the warm scent of cocoa and cinnamon. You let your eyes drift shut as you rest on his shoulder, “Hey, Mingi,” 

“Hey,” He says softly. 

“Thank you,” You sigh. 

“Mhm,” He rocks you a little as he takes your bags from Wooyoung and slings them over his shoulder, the combined weight of it and you not fazing him at all, “I told you once I’ll always be here, I meant it,” 

“I believe you,” You murmur into his throat. 

You rest here, Mingi’s thumb rubbing a comforting line over the back of your neck. 

“Time to go,” Wooyoung’s voice pipes back in, “there’s a car ready, Yunho will be there in a a few minutes,” 

“Alright,” Mingi presses a soft kiss to your hair, “here we go,” 

He carries you with ease, and you sink into the steady thump of his heart under your palm that’s keeping you grounded. Over his shoulder you watch Wooyoung walking with you and you see police officers down the hall. The door to the back office swings open and Yunho is leaning against the desk as he speaks with an officer. Seonghwa sits in a chair next to him, his head in his hands, blood coating his knuckles and the sleeves of his shirt. Something pulls in your gut, begging you to go to him, but then you’re outside and all you can feel is Mingi holding you as he ferries you into the car. 

“Do you need anything?” He asks as he settles you into the passenger seat 

“I don’t know,” You tell him honestly, letting your head drop back against the seat and taking a deep breath, eyes slipping closed. 

“Don’t fall asleep,” Wooyoung jumps forward, “keep your eyes open,” 

“I’m fine,” You tell him, but you still do what he asks. 

“Just in case,” Wooyoung presses, “you shouldn’t fuck with head injuries,” 

“He’s right,” Mingi murmurs, crouching next to you just outside the car, “and I’m sure you’re fine, but let’s just be sure, okay?” 

“Okay,” 

  A noise just past the two of them makes you jump. 

“It’s just Sannie,” Wooyoung assures you. 

You nod and Mingi takes your hand in his, lacing your fingers together. 

“Yunho’s almost done,” San announces, but he hurries to the car and leans in to check you, “doing okay?” 

“Yeah,” 

“Can you do something for me?” He cups your cheek to bring your eyes up to his. 

“Mhm,” You nod again. 

“I need you to just focus on us for a minute,” He moves to crouch next to Mingi, and then Wooyoung steps closer too, blocking out some of your peripheral vision. 

“Why?” You fight the urge to turn around. 

Red and blue lights flash in the car mirrors and you reflexively glance up at the rear view mirror, catching sight of an ambulance, and tension fills your stomach. 

San reaches up and catches your face again, “Hey, look at me,” 

You pull your eyes away, “Are they here for him?” 

“Yes,” San nods.

“Is he badly hurt?” Your mouth feels dry. 

There’s a pause and then Wooyoung sighs, “Don’t lie to her,” 

Mingi clears his throat softly, “He’s pretty busted up,” 

“Good,” You breathe. 

San smiles, taking your other hand in his and smoothing his thumb over your knuckles. The sound of the doors catches your attention again, and you resist the urge to turn around once again. San shakes his head a little, “Just keep looking at us,” 

“He really picked the wrong person to fuck with,” Wooyoung says, his hand resting warmly on your shoulder. 

An image of Seonghwa and his bloody knuckles flashes through your mind and your breath quickens, “Is Hwa okay?” 

Mingi’s brows draw together. 

“He’s fine,” San assures you immediately. 

“I saw blood,” You can’t articulate it exactly, the image is just static in your mind. 

“It’s not his blood,” San promises, “we’re all fine, Seonghwa is fine,” 

The sound of the ambulance doors swinging shut makes you jump. 

“Shh,” Mingi squeezes your hand, “you’re safe, you’re with me,” 

Everything in your body feels tense and stretched thin, but Mingi’s hand is solid in yours and you grip down on it, letting it tether you. 

You listen as the ambulance pulls away, your muscles unclenching one by one as the sound of the vehicle fades. 

“Woo,” You manage, “can you check on Hwa for me? And text me?” 

“Yeah,” He assures you, “I got you,” 

“Take a deep breath,” Mingi instructs you, “please, for me,” 

You take a long inhale and meet his eyes and he nods as you let the breath out low and slow through your nose. 

“Again, please,” He nods. 

You breathe again, the same steady pace, “I’m tired,” 

“It’s the adrenaline wearing off,” Mingi tells you, “but as soon as a doctor says you can sleep, you can rest,” 

“Okay,” You nod. 

San’s hand disconnects from yours and he starts to stand, “Yunho’s done,” 

You twist in your seat to see him, Wooyoung stepping out of the way, and you can see Yunho jogging towards the car, “Everything okay?” 

“Mhm,” Mingi keeps himself calm for you. 

“That took forever,” He says, “I’m sorry,” 

“It didn’t,” You shake your head, “don’t be sorry,” 

“You should go,” Wooyoung interrupts, “get her looked at,” 

You find your best friend’s eyes, “You’ll text me?” 

“Of course I will,” He nods, “but right now just focus on yourself. We’re all okay,” 

You nod, and your eyes feel heavy again already. You know they’ll be trying to keep you awake in the car at this rate. 

“Let’s go,” Mingi nods, “can I have my hand back for a minute?” He smiles at you. 

“Sorry,” You drop his hand, almost embarrassed at the way you’re clinging to him. 

“Go,” San ushers Yunho towards the driver’s side, “if you need anything, we’re here,” 

Before you know it everyone’s moving and your car door is shut. Yunho slides into the driver’s seat to your left and Mingi moves into the backseat behind you. 

You meet Wooyoung’s eyes through the window and he rests a hand over his chest. He mouths a simple message - I love you, okay?

You nod and the car starts to move, but you know he knows you love him too. 

Mingi shifts forwards in his seat as Yunho starts to drive, and his long arm reaches around to find your hand again. He laces your fingers together once and this time he doesn’t let go. 

________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Later that night, the warm, rich scent of their apartment almost takes you out at the knees when you finally cross the threshold, so overwhelmingly comforting and enveloping that you want nothing more than to bury yourself inside the feeling for days. Mingi nearly runs into your back when you stop short in the entryway and Yunho’s watching you carefully as he hangs up your jackets. 

“What?” Mingi nudges you gently. 

There’s a million things to say. Things left unsaid after your last conversation, that fight you wish you could forget. The letter. All the things you were planning on confessing Saturday. The way you want so badly to erase today and just be with them. Every ounce of their soothing physicality after Minseok brings all your emotions up tenfold. Their tenderness almost chokes you. All the things you want to say are stuck in your throat. You need to get your head on straight. You need sleep. 

“Hey,” Yunho waves a hand in front of your dazed expression, “are you alright?” 

Not really. The hospital was long and awkward, seeing a glimpse of Minseok’s name on a hospital room door even worse, and the police had so many questions that all sounded fairly judgemental. Not to mention the probing questions from the hospital staff about your cycle and if you’re close to pre-heat. As if that matters at all. You settle for something a little less dire though, “I’m fine, sorry, it’s just been a while,” 

Yunho’s ears darken to a deep shade of pink and he nods. 

“You can sleep in my room,” Mingi offers, “like before. We can stay or not stay, it’s up to you.” 

“I’d like to be alone,” You tell them, “if that’s alright,” 

“Of course,” Mingi smooths a hand down your arm, “whatever you want.” 

“Um,” You sigh heavily, “honestly I’m exhausted. I think I might just shower and sleep as long as you don’t mind,” 

Yunho shakes his head, gesturing towards the hall, “Not at all, just… call if you need anything,” 

You start back towards the bathroom, your eyes down and away from them, but Mingi calls out, “You remember where everything is?” 

There’s no way you could forget, and you call back that you’re fine. You got it. You just need to be alone, alone is good, alone feels safe. 

In the shower you scrub your skin raw, spending extra time and attention on your glands even though it makes your skin there puffy and red, pinpricks of blood at the surface of your skin and lilac bruises surrounding every edge. It doesn’t matter how comforting their scents are, nothing is taking away the deep intent of Minseok’s mouth on your neck - and the bitter, burnt citrus smell takes ages to wash away. By the time you finish, you’re about ready to collapse. 

Mingi leaves you clothes again, folded neatly on his bed and ready for you. They’re nowhere to be seen, taking your plea for time alone seriously. He’s laid out a clean pair of sleep pants and a t-shirt, both fresh from the wash. The hoodie you had stolen during your heat lies next to it, and it’s a kind gesture, but suddenly you don’t want it. You want nothing. 

You toss the hoodie to the side and start to climb into the bed, but that smells so heavily of cinnamon spice that you can’t think straight. You had just gotten used to blissfully smelling nothing after your shower, and so you strip the bed entirely, discarding all of the pillows and blankets and sheets into the farthest corner of the room. 

The mattress is bare now, but once you turn the circulating fan off you fix the issue of the cold and his scent washing over you every time you try to close your eyes. You can still sense him, sense them, somewhere in the background, but here on the stripped bed in sterilized clothes with your skin rubbed raw, you can rest. 

You drift into sleep this way, your head clear. 

It doesn’t stay that way for long. 

You’re not sure how long you’re asleep before you wake in abject terror, but it must be at least a couple of hours with the sky outside pitch dark and the apartment completely quiet around you. It’s obvious you’re the only one awake, but your brain can’t quite process it right. All you feel is shaking fear and the echo of hands pressing you into the wall, fingers in your hair yanking your head to the side, teeth grazing against your throat. 

You scramble back, only to find the edge of the bed and you collapse off of it, ending up on the wood floor with your head spinning, Mingi’s bedside table lamp crashing down after you, a harsh flash of light pulsing through the room as the bulb breaks and gives one final dying flicker. 

The pleading whine that’s caught in your throat sounds like a trapped animal to your ears, the pounding of your heart threatening to break your chest, blood rushing through your ears like a train. You can’t grasp reality, everything feels hazy and disconnected. 

The door to your right bangs open, Yunho bleary and confused, but responding to your heightened state of fear within a moment. “Mingi!” He calls over his shoulder, “Mingi, get up right now,” 

There’s a faraway faint noise from the other room. 

Yunho skids to your side, careful not to touch you as he tries to meet your eyes in the dark, “Sweetheart, it’s just a nightmare.” 

Part of you knows that you’re awake, safe and home, and not trapped in subspace with a threatening hand in your hair, but you can’t quite grip back to reality. You stutter out a reply, “I-I can’t breathe,” 

“Mingi,” Yunho calls back over his shoulder again, “right now!”

“Please,” you whimper, part of your brain still lodged in the nightmare, “I can’t breathe,” Your hands cling onto the edge of the rug.

Mingi stumbles into the room now, half asleep but forced into consciousness and he’s shaking himself, catching up quickly, “What’s going on?” 

You hear him, but your body is stuck remembering and you feel like there’s a weight on your chest, pressing you down harder, “I can’t breathe, I can’t breathe,” you stutter. 

“Sweetheart,” Yunho comes closer now, his body curling around you carefully with his face directly at your side, “it’s a nightmare, you’re safe.” His arms loop around you gently, but stay open in case you need to move.

“I can’t,” you shake your head, images swimming before you. 

“You’re not there,” he tells you, “we’re home, you’re with us, me and Mingi,” 

You wheeze, trying to regulate your breath. 

“Get a light,” Yunho pleads suddenly to the dark room, and you can hear scrambling, “she can’t see where she is, get a light on.” 

Mingi trips over the discarded lamp on the floor, and fumbles back to the lightswitch on the wall near the door, searching for it with his hands but reluctant to tear his eyes away from you. Suddenly the room floods with the overhead light, a stark fluorescent glow, and the black spots across your vision start to clear.

“I have you, I have you,” Yunho repeats, holding you to him. 

Your hand searches blindly for Mingi on the other side of you and he collapses next to you both, taking your hand and moving in to cradle you from the opposite side, “Baby,” he murmurs, “look around, look where you are,” 

Yunho’s hand on your thigh grounds you, and then Mingi softly touches your jaw to draw your gaze to him, “Look at me,” 

Your eyes flick up. He looks tired, exhausted even, his hair a wayward haystack. You blink hard, “What happened to you?” 

“To me?” Mingi’s brow furrows and he glances up past you to Yunho. 

“You need sleep,” You manage. 

Mingi laughs sharply and cups your cheeks, “I’ll sleep later. Can you tell me where you are?” 

“Your place,” You manage, and you feel the nightmare receding back into your mind inch by precious inch, your breath steadying out. 

“Yeah,” He sighs, “Yeah, that’s right,” 

“I’m home with you,” You repeat, your fingers sinking into the plush rug beneath you. 

Yunho swallows hard, fixated on the way you’ve called their apartment home, not their home, for the third time tonight. You watch the flicker of recognition in his eyes, but he lets it pass and so do you. 

Tears well up in your eyes again and you sigh, “I’m sorry about your lamp,” 

“What?” Mingi’s brow furrows, “Who cares about that?” 

“Still,” You manage, “I’m such a mess right now,” 

“If you weren’t a mess I’d be more worried,” Yunho takes your hand in his, squeezing your fingers, “and you can take all the time you need to be a mess, we’re here.” 

You slump forwards onto his shoulder, “I’m… so tired,” 

“Let’s get you back to bed,” Yunho soothes, his voice soft. 

You nod, letting them both ease you up to your feet, but when they turn to the bed Mingi makes a soft, confused noise, “Where?” 

“Oh,” You gesture towards the corner where all his bedding is wrapped up in a ball, “I’m sorry I was just… it was too much,” 

Mingi’s jaw tightens, the muscles in his neck jumping as he swallows hard, and you know he’s holding down so much anger, that someone could have scared you enough that any alpha’s scent became overwhelming, that your fear might extend even to them. 

“Okay,” Yunho cuts in easily, “whatever you want,” 

He eases you back onto the mattress, but the idea that they might be gone again strikes a deep lance of panic through your stomach and you grasp his arm, “Don’t go,” 

“Are you sure?” He murmurs. 

“Please,” You insist, tugging his arm again. 

He eases down beside you, and Mingi crosses to the opposite side of the bed so he can follow suit, sidling up to your back but careful not to touch you until you make it clear that you want him to. You fold your arm underneath your head and rest yourself down, and when your hair shifts off your neck you hear Yunho’s sharp intake of breath at the sight of your tender gland. 

“Baby, what,” He reaches for you, fingertips hovering, “sweetheart, what did you do?” 

“I’m fine,” You murmur but when you feel fingers gently coast over the raw skin you hiss sharply in pain and both their hands pull back. 

“y/n,” Mingi’s voice is low, shaky, and he scoops up your arm to check your wrists, finding them as swollen and bruised, “oh my god,” 

“I know,” You murmur, letting your eyes drift shut. 

“This is not okay,” Mingi sounds pained, “you can’t hurt yourself like this,” 

“I’m okay, I promise,” 

“We could have helped,” Yunho insists, “we could have scented you again, both of us, or called Seonghwa, or something, anything,” 

“Seonghwa?” You start, but Mingi cuts you off as he pushes your hair further to the side to see more of your neck. 

He makes a tight noise with his tongue against his teeth, “These look tender, Yunho’s right,” 

“You scented me plenty,” You shake your head, letting your hair fall back into place, “but I promise, I’m okay,” 

Mingi wraps his arms around you from behind, tucking you close to his chest and dropping his head onto yours, “You’re scaring me,” he confesses into your hair. 

“I know,” You murmur, “but I wasn’t trying to hurt myself,” 

“And now?” Yunho asks softly. 

“I’m a little better,” You pull him closer, “I was overwhelmed earlier and… even you both I didn’t want, but now? I feel safer, clearer,” 

Yunho kisses your forehead, letting his lips linger as you all get your emotions back in check, “Okay,”  

“Can we stay just like this?” You nuzzle into him, pulling Mingi in closer behind you until you’re snuggled up so tight you might overheat . 

“I’ll be wherever you want,” Mingi wraps his hand around yours and tucks them into your chest.

Yunho murmurs his agreement softly and you nod, letting their heat soak into your body and releasing your tense muscles bit by bit. You were supposed to tell them how you felt already, you need to get it out in the open before things get too blurry again, but right now you have to let it go. 

Silence stretches between the three of you, their breathing even and low, and you’re not sure if they’re asleep or awake when you make your quiet plea in the dark but in a whisper you beg them to never, ever let you go again. At least for tonight, they hold you fast.