Mingi Ff - Tumblr Posts
SWEET JUICE - s.mingi (18+)
➼ genre; fantasy, smut ➼ pairing; mingi x fem!reader ➼ au; strangers to lovers, magic au, witches/warlocks au ➼ warnings; explicit smut ➼ rating; m/18+ ➼ wc; 10.7k
the new apothecary in your small village is harboring a dark secret, you're certain of it, if only because he bears a starkly familiar crest on his shop sign - one that denotes the presence of magic.
part of the ...and it's snowing collab.
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➼ smut warnings; sex toys, unprotected sex, comeshots, begging, fingering, multiple orgasms, size kink, hand kink, mention of belly bulging, dacryphilia
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Normally, you aren’t one to be so deeply entrenched in the petty gossip going around town, especially when newcomers are not exactly scarce in these parts. This one in particular — the young man who moved here by himself and immediately set up an apothecary shop in the heart of the village — has been on the lips of almost everyone you’ve bumped into for the past week. Ever since the Summer’s End Festival, it seems all your neighbors can think to talk about is this mysterious lone wolf. Unfortunately for you, that means your interest has been piqued both out of nosiness and out of a potential opportunity.
“You said he’s nice?”
“Yeah! I mean, I didn’t meet him personally. I was busy running the stall while Yunho was doing all the socializing, but Gerda came over and she said he’s a rather nice and charming young man.”
You appraise the man across the counter with a far less enthused grin. It doesn’t deter Seonghwa from his egregious nods of encouragement, however. So, you continue to pack away the little bundles of herbs that you’ve been preparing all morning into the man’s satchel.
“She says that about everyone under the age of fifty. I think it’s her duty as an old woman to say that. What did Yunho say about him?”
“Hm, what did Yunho say about him…” Seonghwa brings a neatly manicured nail to his chin as he mulls over your question. You snap the buckle of his bag into its proper place now that you’ve given him all you need to and set your hands down on the counter. “He was fairly charmed too, I believe. I mean, in terms of the guy’s personality. You know his gaze goes in one single direction for all other aspects of things.” He flattens his palm against his cheek and doesn’t even bother to hide the smugness that creeps over his expression.
“Don’t get cocky now,” you cut in before Seonghwa can redirect the conversation towards himself.
“Is it being cocky if I’m just repeating what he says all the time though? Oh my Seonghwa, you’re so pretty, the only man I could ever look at, I never grow weary of seeing your darling face. It’s truly romance at its finest.”
“Back to the new guy, Hwa.”
“Hmph. You’re more interested in him than you were in me when I first moved here!”
“You didn’t run a shop when you first got here. Otherwise, I would’ve been just as eager, promise.” Seonghwa narrows his eyes at you, lips drawing into what must be an attempt at a frown but it’s so half-hearted and soft around the edges that you can’t be sure. “I’m trying to establish a financially beneficial supply line with this guy. Thus, I need to know what he’s like so that I know how much bargaining I ought to prepare for before going to speak with him.”
“He’s nice, not much of a talker from what I could tell watching him from a distance, and he mostly stuck near the bonfire. Though it was still damp from the rain earlier that day, and autumn was already sending in her cooler breezes. Anyone who hasn’t acclimated to our lovely finicky weather acts like that when they first arrive here. Spoke to everyone who approached him. Talks with his hands a lot. Very—” Seonghwa makes a few vague gestures consisting of him just waving his hands in the air a bit “—big. Not quite taller than Yunho, but broader and like… meatier, I suppose. I wonder if I should give Yunho bigger meal portions actually, he might need it. Really, how does he stay so skinny even doing all the heavy lifting around the house? Do you have any herbs good for muscle growth?”
“Alright, I’ve had enough of you, that’s it.” Seonghwa’s protest comes immediately. “No, because last time you did this, you started asking me about concoctions to make his semen taste better, and that is not a conversation we’re going to be repeating!” He grabs his satchel off the counter as you hop up from your stool, though he still tries to appear very upset over the matter while pulling it over his head.
“Well, tell me when you’re planning on going over there at least. I can give you a meal before you go home since it’s a bit of a trek to get back here.”
“I’ll go tomorrow. There’s still some inventory left over from the summer that I need to sort out. And I need to prepare some decor for the Autumn Festival sooner rather than later. Ugh, I got so behind on my work it’s infuriating.” You’ve been slacking a little more than you usually do this past week on account of being bedridden for five days straight. You thought you were going to avoid getting sick at the end of summer for once, but your body had other plans for you and decided to push it into the start of the fall season instead. That’s the only reason you need this information about the newcomer from Seonghwa so desperately: otherwise, you would have been at that very festival and been able to witness the man for yourself.
“Oh, speaking of, everyone missed you last week! And told me to send you well wishes, which are obviously not needed anymore, but the sentiment is the same nonetheless, no?”
You send Seonghwa off with a few extra herbs pressed into his hands and wishes for safe travels. It ought to only take him fifteen minutes to walk back to town, but he came by rather late and the sun is already setting so you don’t want him to get caught alone in the dark on his way. He is kind enough to allow your nagging, only pinching your cheek when you tell him once more to quit asking about recipes and herbs to use on Yunho’s dick.
Once you’re content seeing him reach the end of your garden path, you flick your wrist in the direction of your crops. The drizzle that suddenly starts falling from the sky is light enough to not be much of a hindrance to Seonghwa, though you’ll be certain to bring down some heavier rainfall after he disappears over the edge of the hill. Though your closest friend in the village, you still haven’t had the heart to tell him what exactly brought you to this remote place or what you were running from when you came. He only knows that you came here nearly eight years ago on your own and with nothing to your name, and by the time he and Yunho came along, you were already three years into building your business of selling herbs year-round.
In truth, your witchcraft is not illegal by the nature of it being magick. Rather, you yourself are the problem being a witch in name instead of the formally accepted term warlock. Should anyone with any sort of agenda against you discover that you are a defector using your magick when you are no longer a practicing warlock, then you would likely lose everything you have here in this place. It took you two years just to find a town secure and remote enough for you to feel comfortable living in, and eight more to reach this point of stability. You don’t consider Seonghwa to be someone driven by monetary promise or swayed by others’ opinions, but there is just enough doubt that’s crept into your heart over the years to keep you silent.
“How depressing,” you mutter, turning back to your cottage and heading inside. You make the rain fall just a little harder to go along with your sudden decline in mood.
…
Perhaps, you think, there is some goddess out there who is keen on causing you inordinate levels of distress. Because although today was supposed to be nothing more than a calm and friendly meeting in the hopes of establishing a business partnership, you cannot push yourself to even approach the door to the new apothecary. The name of the shop is insignificant on its own — Mortar and Cauldron — and you wouldn’t think twice about getting up from this cursed bench you now find yourself on if that was all there was to it. Yet for some godforsaken reason, this man has deigned to put a symbol behind the name, one that mimics one of the crests belonging to the House of Ballads (the very one you defected from a decade ago). Some deity must surely be playing a sick prank on you.
There are a few routes you could take in this situation. You could pretend you never came and forget the idea of creating a supply line, missing out on some revenue sure but it’s not like you wouldn’t be able to make up for it in other areas. You could go in and confront the newcomer, demanding to know who he is and what he’s doing here on the off chance that he’s truly some bumbling idiot who has no clue what symbols he’s drawn into his signs. He could very well be a defector himself, you suppose, although it would be suicide to use one of the House’s official crests as one. Or you could simply play the part of the fool yourself, act none the wiser, and pretend to be the normal citizen you are. Even if this man were truly from the House, he would not recognize your face because you were never formally entered into the place. You had been merely part of a small church sect on the outskirts of the capital, far from the House of Ballads and all its operations. The name you held while there has already been burned to ash and nothingness, likely stricken from all their records as well the moment you disappeared. If they wanted you dead — well, they would have had you killed long ago. So, you seem to have your best course of action.
“I know my decor isn’t the most appealing, but I don’t think it warrants such a foul expression.” The voice resonates so close to your ear that you truly feel the vibration in your teeth, but moreso, it startles you out of your skin, and you all but launch yourself off the bench with an embarrassing yelp. Just behind the bench where you were, there stands a man you don’t recognize. Tall, with sharp features and equally piercing dark eyes, and dressed in black from head to toe complete with a scarf draped over his head to mimic the hood of a cloak. It doesn’t fully shroud his borderline psychedelic hair — an unnatural yellow shade that blends into a fiery orange-red and makes his head look more like a torch than anything else. “Hello. Sorry for surprising you like that, it wasn’t my intention to make a first impression in such a way.”
Ah. If not for your racing heart, you would have put two and two together far sooner, because obviously, this would be the mystery owner of the apothecary, considering how you recognize everyone in town.
“Would you like to come in and look around? I was simply across the street to get some bread.” He tilts his head back in the direction of none other than Seonghwa’s shop. One glance at the storefront gives you enough of a clue as to whose fault it is that you’re having this unsavory first encounter because said man is pressed up against the window and staring through it directly at you. You have to fight the urge to scowl at him until after your newcomer steps out of your line of sight. Seonghwa tucks a stray piece of hair behind his ear and sends you a far-too-cheery thumbs-up. You turn away with a less subtle middle finger.
Despite the muggy weather and cooler temperatures, the inside of the apothecary is warm. It almost feels a bit humid thanks to the rain outside, but not unbearably so. And considering how long you were sitting out there getting rained on, you welcome the heat quite a bit.
“You wouldn’t happen to be the friend Seonghwa mentioned, would you?” He catches you with the question as you’re undoing the knot holding your cloak around your shoulders. “I don’t recall seeing you at last week’s festival, though I didn’t have the chance to introduce myself to everyone then.”
“Oh, yes, that would be me. I wasn’t there because I was recovering from a nasty cold. Y/n.” You jut a hand out in his direction, pushing a smile to your lips as you look him in the eye, though thanks to his height, you feel as though you have to crane your neck just to do so.
“Song Mingi. It’s a pleasure to meet you, y/n.” He doesn’t take your hand the way you expect; instead, he pinches the tips of your fingers and bends at the waist, lips grazing your knuckles so softly that you almost don’t feel the contact at all. What’s more startling is how hot his touch is, especially considering how he was just out in the cold. You catch a glimpse of his hand as he’s pulling away, but he’s simply wearing gloves. Knowing Seonghwa, he probably kept the man hostage with conversation for a long time before sending him out to speak with you, and your friend always keeps the house warm because of the ovens, so that’s likely where all the excess heat is coming from. Your staring lingers too long, and Mingi clears his throat quietly, bringing you out of your thoughts.
“Likewise,” you spit out, placing your cloak on the coat rack by the door.
“Were you looking for something in particular, or did you just want to see what sorts of things I have?” Mingi wraps around the back of the shop’s counter, and you take it as an invitation to approach. The glass cabinet serving as the surface is filled with a variety of things both familiar and not. Potions, vials, bundles of powders, and even some gemstones that carry a glow at their centers. The presence of magick here is undeniably strong, and it is not yours alone. There must be dozens of magickal objects here, though the ordinary person wouldn’t sense a thing. You don’t let your gaze linger on any of them for long before pulling focus back up to the man’s face.
“Well, I intended to come introduce myself first since we didn’t have a chance to meet at the festival. But beyond that, I wanted to let you know I grow all sorts of herbs and ingredients in my garden. I supply many of the local shops and stalls, especially during the winter seasons. The ground is particularly fruitful thanks to all the rain we get here.”
“Oh? Yes, I noticed rather quickly that there’s near-constant rainy weather here.” As though on cue, a bout of thunder rumbles in the distance.
“You truly chose a summer lover’s nightmare moving here,” you laugh. “Charybid is always in rainy season.”
Mingi hums and grins a little, looking to the window before saying, “I’m quite alright with it really. The heat of my homeland is far more unbearable in my opinion. You can tell how little I went outside there just based on how pale I am.” He flashes the back of his hand that’s still enveloped by a glove like he wants to prove his point, only to realize his little blunder and fall into a bout of awkward laughter instead. “But you said you’re a supplier? Do you have a local shop as well or…?”
“Local, though not here in the heart of town. If you follow the west road up over the hill, you’ll see a string of cottages. Mine is the one with the big front garden! Oh, and there’s a sign as well, of course.”
“That would be immensely helpful especially since I don’t have much space here to grow my own things. It’s a bit difficult to outsource supplies in this area too, isn’t it?” Mingi glances down at the open notebook sitting on his counter and skims the contents. “Would it be alright if I came by at the end of next week? That way I can finish unpacking and taking stock of everything I have.”
“Yes, that’d work just fine. You can come by any time you need, though I always advise against coming too close to nightfall because walking in the rain at night is an easy way to get sick.” You offer a smile, perhaps a little too pleased with how smoothly your business proposal went, but your enthusiasm seems to be received well given how brightly Mingi smiles in return. The air has begun to get more stifling, and you can feel sweat clinging to the back of your neck. It’s unpleasant now, a kind of warmth you’re not used to experiencing all the time because you don’t keep your home so toasty, but it reminds you of evenings shared with Seonghwa that always end with you wanting to escape out into the rain just for some respite. “I won’t take up more of your time, though. I promised to go see Seonghwa myself once I was finished here. I bid you well.”
“Thank you, and have safe travels home yourself. I look forward to doing business with you, Miss y/n.”
…
You leave your cottage in the wee hours of the morning, intending to water your crops before the sun rises, but those plans are dashed the moment you spot the man waiting outside your fence. You’ve seen him several times since your first meeting, though not here and solely in town. He hasn’t come this far yet despite his insistence that he would come over two weeks ago. Autumn is in full swing now, four weeks since the start of the season and five since the new apothecary came to town. You had not quite lost hope that he would be true to his word, but you must admit that you are caught off-guard seeing him at this hour and at your gate.
“When I said not to come at nightfall, I didn’t mean that you needed to come at the break of dawn!”
“I wanted to come before opening hours,” Mingi replies in a far clearer voice than your own. You’re still wiping the sleep from your eyes after all, and it seems he has been up for some time considering how he doesn’t appear tired in the slightest. The lantern at the end of your walkway is lit — strange because you thought you had remembered to blow it out the night before — and the glow combined with the first few rays of sunshine over the horizon is enough to illuminate the space between you and the man. “I was also out on a morning walk, so I figured it would be smart to find out how to get here before making a fool of myself. Beyond making plans to do so several times over and not once making good on those plans.”
You did gather much from your first impression of the man. Seonghwa’s word proved correct: Mingi is quite friendly, although a tad clueless but his kindness makes up for that, and you heard as much from your fellow townsfolk after you left his apothecary a month ago. After all, newcomers will be the talk of the town for weeks after their arrival, so you got to be privy to much talk about his character just from spending five minutes milling about the streets. He’s cordial each time you happen across each other in the village on top of that, full of never-ending apologies about his delay in coming to see you (to the point where you have to demand he stop apologizing three times before he takes the hint).
“Considering how I didn’t even make it to the front door, I’m assuming I did not wake you?” he continues when you reach the edge of the fence. You shake your head, undoing the latching and pulling the gate over for him to step through.
“No, you simply caught me coming out to check on the crops before the rain starts.” You didn’t sense any rain coming today, but a little trip down to the pond can easily be arranged once Mingi departs. “This is only the front garden. I can show you the back as well, if you’d like, I have far more plants there.”
“You take care of this all by yourself?” he inquires, voice edging on awestruck, and your chest swells with pride.
“Yep! It is my livelihood, after all. But I am very enamored with the work too, so that helps me as well. These plants need more sun, and thanks to the location of this cottage, they receive it at least eight hours a day. Same goes for the plots on the left side of the house, but the ones on the right are not as sensitive to the sunshine. I keep the least temperamental crops in the back, along with some gourds that shops have a hard time finding at this time of year. My more cold-sensitive plants are in planters indoors, I have that small little greenhouse attachment on the side of the house as well as fungi and the like in the basement.”
“It seems you truly have a bit of everything then?”
“I try to at least. Whenever traveling merchants come for market days, I make a point to collect whatever seeds I can. I also like picking up gardener’s pamphlets! There are always good tips for how to make certain plants thrive, and occasionally they’ll mention ones I’ve not heard of so I know to be on the lookout for those things. If there’s ever something you’re in need of that I don’t have, I’d be happy to collect some samples for you from some merchants and we can discuss planting them too.” When you glance up at Mingi again, his jaw is hanging slightly open, eyes still bearing into you with that same wonder and disbelief. “Oh, sorry, I’m being a terrible host. Did you want to come inside for some tea or coffee? It’s still quite early.”
“That’d be great. Do you happen to have a catalog of all your crops as well?”
“Of course, of course.” You motion for him to follow you up to the house just as a few drops of rain start hitting your skin. Maybe you won’t need to go down to the pond after all. “It seems you came at the perfect time. Do you have some sort of potion that lets you predict the weather?”
“If only,” he laughs, ducking his head a bit to avoid the doorframe. He shrugs his cloak off upon getting inside, and once again you’re regaled by the sight of him dressed in all black. Though, today he’s forgone gloves and simply stuck to a long-sleeved shirt that extends past his hands.
“You’re welcome to look around as I get the water on and all!”
“I’d be happy to do that for you.”
“Please, you’re a guest, that’d hardly be fair of me.”
“But I did accost you before dawn, so I’d like to think of it as a fair bargain.”
You purse your lips. “Okay, I’ll relent and allow you to do the water, but I’ll take care of everything else.” He drapes his cloak over the back of one of your chairs, very careful and meticulous about the way in which he lays it down, but you only watch him long enough to see him reach the sink. Turning your back to him, you busy yourself with finding mugs and prepping the coffee Seonghwa gave to you a few weeks back. You should’ve thought ahead and asked him for more since you were just over there, but it slipped your mind completely. Perhaps he needs some more lavender and rosemary, you could pack some and use that as an excuse to go back to see him.
When you turn around next, Mingi is already sitting at the table in the seat where he set his cloak down, and you make a small noise of surprise.
“Did you get the stove figured out already? I swear it takes me four or five tries to get it to come on right every time.”
“Hm? It came right on when I turned the knob. Is it not supposed to do that?”
You let out a huff of air while shrugging and set the mugs down on the table. “It never does that for me but that very well may be user error.” The sharp whistle of steam interrupts your thoughts. “Ah, and it’s heating up quickly too? Those remedies of yours are becoming more and more appealing by the second. You might be the town’s new miracle worker at this rate.”
In truth, it’s making your skin itch a little. There was some odd presence of magick back in Mingi’s shop, and even now you feel something sharp prodding at your own magickal energy in your own home. It’s not a threat, not one that you can concretely act on yet at least, but it’s enough to make you wary. To let a witch into your safe haven is a dangerous and risky game to play, especially if it’s where the source of your power is. Thankfully, you were not so foolish upon moving here to do something as juvenile as that — yours is safely kept away in that pond down the opposite side of the hill and tucked into a small grove in the surrounding forest.
“Oh, let me grab that catalog for you real quick!” You bolt up from your chair at the sudden realization, and Mingi seems to accept it as simply that. You grab the book from your shelf, also snatching up the charm you keep near it and slipping it around your wrist while you’re out of sight still. It won’t be enough to fully shroud your energy, but if Mingi is indeed poking and prodding at your aura in search of something, it ought to at least throw him off enough to sate his curiosities. You usually only use such an item when strangers come to town for those market days you mentioned to Mingi before, and it certainly is a first for you to have to use it in your home.
He’s not budged an inch by the time you return, which is nice to see because he could either have started snooping around in places he shouldn’t or bolted without a trace. You set the book down before him, still wearing a faint smile on your lips.
“I just updated it at the start of the week too, so you have the freshest copy.”
“Wonderful, I’m starting to understand the name on your gate post more and more.”
“Ah, that.” Wonderland was simply a silly little name you came up with on a whim because that’s what this place is to you, but it stuck and everyone in town loved it so much that you could not escape the urgings to keep it as a name even if you are not a shop owner in the way that people like Seonghwa and Mingi both are. “It’s nothing terribly special,” you opt to say instead. The kettle starts whistling more egregiously, saving you from having to explain the name any further. You stand and go to grab the handle of the pot, only to scald your palm so badly that you nearly fall over backward. Mingi scrambles to get up, chair clattering against the ground as he rushes in your direction.
“Shit, I’m so sorry, I—”
“You’re sorry?” you blurt through gritted teeth, clinging to your hand and trying to will the pain away to no avail. “What are you sorry for?”
“I-I should’ve — I should’ve gotten that, I mean, my hands are…” he trails off, and you glance down at the now exposed hands that he’s put between you. From the tips of his fingers down to the first knuckle on every single digit, Mingi’s skin and nails both are the color of charcoal, like they’ve been permanently stained that way. Were you anybody else, you would not know what it means.
“I’m fine,” you say. He’s a warlock after all, it seems. Of course he is. You have been teetering on the confirmation for weeks at this point, and it was silly of you to ignore the obvious so many times over. His uncomfortably warm touch and the stifling heat inside his shop were both dead giveaways. You did not forget to extinguish your lantern last night, nor did the stove simply come on by way of Mingi being deft at using the knobs. He lit the lantern himself, lit the stove himself as well though because he was unaware of how your finicky stove works, he made the flame too big and too hot, thus leading to the quick boil and unfortunate accident of you burning your hand. The symbol on his door sign should have been enough of a clue.
“Please, at least let me make you something to treat the burn. It’s what I’m good at after all, and it’s the barest of minimums I could do.”
If you kick him out now, then it will surely be obvious that you know something about his identity. Only daft idiots or people with something to hide would turn down the help of a healer such as himself. In the past decade, you have lost all semblance of good judgment because no amount of mental gymnastics can get you to refuse his help right now. You’re dooming yourself if he already knows what you are, but if he’s got even the slightest hint and you turn him away, then you would confirm it for him. You have to take the risk.
“Okay, I would really appreciate it,” you whisper, easing yourself down into your chair once more. Mingi’s shoulders visibly relax. “All these plants and I’m afraid I’ve barely got enough knowledge to make tea on a good day with them. Everything you need ought to be on the shelves behind the counter. Those are all freshly picked too.” When he turns his back to you, you let your meek expression drop and glare at the welt that’s already formed across your palm. Mingi’s magick does not appear to be volatile, meaning that he must have had some sort of formal training in his life. It’s common for fire warlocks to bear the same charcoal-looking scars that he has, mostly from overexertion of their kind of magick. You produce more sweat than is natural for a normal human being thanks to your affinities too.
Would the House truly send someone here for you after so long? And to go through the effort of having them set up a shop in the heart of town? If they wanted someone to watch you, then it would have been easier and smarter to have someone take one of the cottages closer to you. Besides, Mingi has not been taking every opportunity to come find you or learn about you. Nor does he wear any ring to indicate his affiliation with the House. A sanctioned mage would surely make use of such benefits. Could he be a defector like you? Or one that never made it into the House’s grasp?
He returns to the table with a mortar and pestle filled with some sort of salve that he’s already beaten down into a mush.
“Does it hurt badly?”
“Quite a bit,” you answer truthfully, only wincing a little when he turns your palm to the ceiling. It feels as though his fingers alone could sear your skin.
“I made extra for you to use over the next several days as well. All you need to do is store it somewhere cool and apply a little to the burn twice a day until the pain stops.” The mixture is so blissfully cold on your skin that you could cry, and even with Mingi’s warm touch massaging it into the burn, it feels like a heavenly relief. “If the pain doesn’t stop by the time you run out of salve, then please come visit me. I can make more and give you something to keep it from scarring.”
“Understood.”
“And y/n…” He squeezes your hand ever so slightly, and your breath catches in your throat. “You do not have to hide what you are around me.” His gaze finds yours. “You are a witch after all, are you not?” A witch. The word feels like a slap in the face.
“Are you associated with the House? Did they send you? What is it you want from me?”
“The House? Absolutely not. I left their good graces many years ago. I wouldn’t give them even an ounce of my time anyway.”
“So what? You’re a witch as well?”
“Yes, I suppose I am though I don’t make a habit of calling myself that. Simply an apothecary, much like how you are simply a farmer. Of sorts.” Mingi fidgets in his seat and looks closer at you. “I am genuinely not here to cause you harm or disrupt your life. I imagine we came here for the very same reasons in fact. I simply want to live by my own terms, not anyone else’s.”
“Get out,” you whisper. Perhaps there are hundreds of better ways to handle this, but you have never had to do such a thing in all your time here, and you cannot be faulted for acting out of panic and fear now. Your voice comes out louder now, “Get out of my home then! Get out and don’t come back d-don’t dare tell anyone.”
“The energy is permeating the entire house.” Mingi keeps his tone quiet as he continues to speak through your distress. “Your garden too, I felt it immediately. The rain — it’s in there as well. Sure, it’s always rainy season here but how much of it is because of you?”
“You know what the other name for my kind is, right?”
“You’re a water witch.”
You retract your hand from his with a scoff.
“The House tends to call us Scyllans. Sweet temptresses of the deep, killers of foolish men.”
Mingi somehow has it in him to smile.
“Then I ought to be safe, for I am neither foolish nor a mere man.” He stands without saying another word, collecting his cloak off the back of his chair and slinging it around his shoulders. You can’t help but to stare at him, wary and on edge with every movement he makes even when he reaches the door. “My words hold true, y/n. I hope you think them over at least. And your secret is truly safe with me.”
…
You avoid going into town for so long that Seonghwa seeks you out five days after you go into self-imposed seclusion. It’s easy to keep him off your back at least, and from what you can tell, Mingi has not sought him out to expose your dirty secrets as of yet. The logical part of you understands that you ought to avoid angering the man because he does hold quite a bit of power over you right now. Fear keeps you captive instead, however.
Two weeks and a day after that fateful encounter you had with Mingi, you dare to leave the comfort of your home. Not to go into the village — that is a step you are not prepared to face — but rather to visit your precious grove in the forest. You should have gone last week as it’s always been your habit to go once a month to rejuvenate your magick; however, you were so on edge that you couldn’t get beyond your back fence and promptly turned right back around. Tonight, you’re determined.
The skies are clear, not a single cloud marring her starry expanses, and the moon hangs high near the center of the sky. Even better yet, it’s a full moon. Ideal conditions for you to bathe in the pond and restore some much-needed energy. You set out forty minutes from midnight even though your trek will not take that long. You need only be there for the highest peak of the moon, so giving yourself this little bit of leeway should allow you all the time required to reach your destination. Despite yourself, you do glance over your shoulder several times on your way out of the house and garden. When you’re content with your loneliness, you set off down the hill.
It’s not as though you decided to dismiss Mingi’s words altogether once he left. You have put much thought and consideration into them, in fact, especially after Seonghwa came to see you and nothing had changed between the two of you. It’s no guarantee that Mingi didn’t tell anyone, but it’s something. The matter of him being a witch like you, well, that has been a contentious debate in your head. A true warlock calling themselves a witch is considered heresy to many, so you have to believe that Mingi is being truthful with you. You know enough about his magick to know for certain he is either one or the other. But at the end of the day, there is no way for him to prove as much. All he has is his word to back him up, and all you can do is either accept it as truth or deny it.
Long ago, you had settled on the knowledge that you would likely be a rather lonely creature for the rest of your days. Finding Charybid and its people was a welcome blessing, but not a permanent one, and the friends you’ve made (especially Seonghwa and Yunho) cannot understand what it is you are or relate to you on any matter concerning witchcraft. You’ve long since accepted that loneliness as a part of you even if there are pieces of your heart craving warmth and understanding from another like you.
If it were possible, could Mingi be that sort of person in your life? Does he crave the same thing? Is that why he confronted you to begin with?
You reach the grove with a heavier heart than anticipated. Moonlight creeps in through the canopy of branches overhead, glistening off the half-circle of rocks around milky green waters. The moon has already been charging the pond for hours, and you feel the pulse of magick resonating deep in you from the bottom of it.
Stripping down to nothing, you drop your clothes into a pile near the rocks with your satchel and toe at the water. It’s frigid as expected, thanks to the encroaching winter that is coming closer and closer still. You sink into it fully and submerge yourself in the charged waters. Several meters down at the bottom lies your precious black pearl, glowing a deep purple shade to show exactly how much magick she’s stored since you last came. You let the waters hold you for some time until the dull thrum you feel around you turns into a hum that makes your skin feel like it’s full of electricity.
It’s only then that you decide to emerge once more, breaking the surface of the water and letting air replace the magick in your lungs.
Yet, you find that you are not alone.
Bent so far over the pond that he looks one slip away from tumbling down into it, none other than Mingi sits crouched at the edge. It’s far too late to pretend as though you haven’t made note of each other. Depending on which direction Mingi came from, he may not have even seen your belongings behind the rocks. You sink lower in the water until it comes up to cover your lips.
“My apologies. I did not know you were here.” Just his gaze is enough to make your body warm. You tilt your chin up.
“Is that so?”
“I came because of the magickal energy, yes. Not because I knew you would be here.” He’s not far from you. The moon shines her pretty rays down around him, and you blame her for the insatiable tug in your gut that’s making you want to pull him into the waters with you. “I have been thinking about you though,” he admits under his breath. You imagine the words are not meant for your ears, but he doesn’t seem to realize he’s spoken them out loud. It takes little movement on your part to swim closer to him, and you only stop when he is perched directly above you.
“Do I look the part of a temptress now?” you inquire, hand breaking through the surface of the water to caress his cheek.
“Incredibly so,” he murmurs. “I see why foolish men fall. Perhaps I am no better.”
“You know nothing about me.” You trace your fingers down to his chin.
“I know enough.”
You shush him with a laugh and a finger placed directly over his lips. “The sun gives you her power during the day, but on nights like these, the moon offers me a fair exchange. Her power for my sexual energy. That is where a water witch’s magick comes from, and it’s what has earned us all those myths and urban legends about eating men. Now that you know that of me, should I trust you in return?”
“I am what I say I am. I am a fire witch. I defected from the House of Ballads five years ago. To answer your question, though, if…” His gaze has become lidded, focus drawing down to your lips with each word he tries to speak. You feel just as overwhelmed and foggy yourself, the excess magick seeping into you from all angles as the moon inches ever closer to her peak. “…you deem it wise.”
“I think some part of me might.”
“Did you consider what I said to you last time?”
“But of course. It wasn’t so long ago that I’ve forgotten already.” A sigh escapes you as you look up to where the moon can just barely be seen through the trees. “I’d like to give you a chance, if only because of morbid curiosity and the fact that I have made it a decade without finding another like myself.”
You inch up and graze Mingi’s lips with your own. His fingertips tickle the surface of the water, and the effect is nearly instant. Warmth surrounds you and draws a gasp out of you that has you curling away from Mingi’s face. He leans back.
“I cannot restrain myself well enough tonight. Not in the presence of such potent magick.” You are equal parts pleasantly surprised and grossly disappointed by his willpower. With a smile, you push away from the edge of the pond and head further into the water. Mingi almost makes the mistake of following you, teetering at the grassy bank.
“You are welcome to visit again. So long as I am not nude or compromised.”
“I-I—” His cheeks are stained a deep red by now.
“I do not intend to put on a show for you tonight, Mingi, but I am in desperate need of the moon’s energy. If that is all, then…?” Were the circumstances any different, you would consider your wording to be crude in that you are essentially asking him to leave so that you can fuck yourself with the crystal you brought along with you in your bag.
He clears his throat and sits completely back on his heels, gaze wandering across your face. Licking over his lips, his eyes linger on the water droplets running from your hairline to your jaw.
“I will come to you when the first snow falls,” he says. “So that you may have time to contemplate things further. My decision is already made, and I'm sure you're aware of it. Please… please let me know then what your choice is.” You want to retort that he doesn’t have the best track record thus far, but instead leave well enough and wave him away with a grin. A bout of laughter leaves your lips as soon as he passes through the clearing and out of sight.
“Are you testing me?” you whisper to the moon, receiving nothing but her monotonous glow in response. You wade over to the rocks where you left your belongings and quickly rifle through your pack in search of the rose quartz you brought along. It’s cold to the touch, unpleasant in comparison to the warm body that you just had with you and within your grasp. While the shape isn't perfect, it gets the job done in the absence of the real deal, and it serves its purpose just fine. Not like you have any other options as it is.
Part of you entertains the idea of having Mingi still here — from a practical standpoint, consummating the ritual with another magick user would be far more effective than using a crystal charged by the moon. But from a pleasure standpoint…
You dip your fingers between your legs, letting your body fall back to rest your head on the edge of the pond as you seek your core between your folds. The magick at your fingertips pulses through you and sends a jolt into your system just from the slightest brush. A soft mewl falls from your lips. You feel Mingi’s magick still permeating all throughout the water, clinging to your skin, and on your lips, you taste fire from that minute little kiss exchanged in a fit of passion.
No matter how hard you try, you cannot get your fingers deep enough inside your cunt. Instead, your thoughts are plagued by the visual of Mingi’s hands, his long fingers, the searing heat that emanates from them, and the all-consuming desire to know what it would feel like to have them inside you.
You cannot even bring yourself to waste time right now; slipping your fingers free, you plunge the toy in your other hand into yourself and sink it all the way in until the pressure in your gut is eased the slightest bit. It's blissfully cold against your walls; the coolness eases the burn that seems to be wedged beneath your skin and brings some clarity back to your mind. It does not, however, chase every thought of Mingi from your brain. In the haze of your vision, you can hallucinate him before you still, imagine him in the spot where he was not long ago watching you with those fiery intense eyes and urging you on. A louder cry of pleasure tumbles out of you as you're forced to twist and brace yourself on a rock to keep increasing the pace of the toy's thrusts inside you.
It ought to fill you with some degree of shame, you think, because who lusts so strongly after a stranger who poses something of a threat to your well-being and livelihood? But when your mind goes back to the idea of his large hands gripping your waist and hips as he splits you open on his cock, you can't be bothered in the slightest about the speed at which you're becoming invested in this man — all that matters is the speed at which you're thrusting the crystal dildo in and out of your pussy as an orgasm creeps up on you. You have to bury your face in the crook of your arm to have some semblance of sanity to cling to. And when you unravel soon after, it’s his name on your lips.
…
The first snow of the season is late.
You have been trying to avoid thinking about it solely on account of the superstition that mulling it over will only delay it further, but those attempts are futile. Because when you tell yourself to not think about it, you only end up thinking about it more, then you devolve into a sick cycle of reasoning with yourself and the moon and any deity out there who will give you the time of day.
While you could set your pride aside for the sake of what it is you’re waiting on exactly, that is simply not in your nature. Additionally, you want to see whether Mingi will uphold his end of the bargain. He promised to come at the first snow. So you will wait for that day.
Your gardens are thriving thanks to the lack of snow and the amplified support of your fully-charged magick, which is the only positive you can find in this situation while you essentially sit on your hands and wait. The downside is, however, that the temperatures are still steadily declining, and you always struggle in the winter to keep your home warm enough. Your specialty may be in water magick, but that does not mean you have any control or power over the temperature of said water, and everything around you tends to skew a bit cooler as it is. The thought of how cold you are and your house is and everything in between only pushes your thoughts more towards the lack of warmth and a potential source of it that will not come unless the fucking snow does first.
If you have to put up with seeing Mingi’s smiling face across the street while you’re pestering Seonghwa one more time then you may truly snap and lose all semblance of self-respect.
…
You’re knelt in a bed of rosemary when the first flakes of snow start to hit your skin. At first, you think it to be just rain but then a flurry touches one of the purple blossoms on the herb. The shout you let out is a terrifying mixture of joy and exasperation because at long last, your agonizing wait can finally come to a close. The way you scramble to pull yourself out of the dirt and rush indoors ought to be more embarrassing. It takes you all of five minutes to change out of your grimy gardening clothes and into something cozier and cleaner, though all you do is park yourself at the kitchen table with a mug of hot tea and stare out the window waiting for any sign of movement on the hill. The snow is coming down harder already, a billowing cloud of white that cloaks the dirt and grass on the ground. It doesn’t even occur to you to think that Mingi might not come at all, that he might have forgotten or worse — simply not chosen to come at all — because your patience has worn so thin over the past weeks that you feel relief just seeing the snow.
And luckily for you, Mingi is far more timely and true to his word than he was before. You neglected to keep track of the time, though you haven’t finished your tea yet by the time his lanky figure comes over the crest of the hill. You know it to be him instantly because his fiery hair is visible through the white all around him.
You’re at the door before you can think twice, flinging it open and making your way down the path to the gate as though you aren’t in the biggest rush of your life. Behind him, there’s a trail of footsteps where the snow has melted under his feet, and the closer he gets, the better you can see how not even a single snowflake sticks to him in any way. Every flake that touches even the outside of his cloak simply melts upon contact, leaving him pristine in the sea of white falling around you.
“Did you wait long?” he asks upon reaching your gate. Somehow he manages to maintain a lilting tone that makes your brain itch. You want to kiss him so silly that all that smugness dissipates like the snow on his skin. “Y/n.” The breathy exhale of your name is all it takes for you to grab him by the collar and yank him down to your level. The warmth is so blessedly welcome. “Have you made your decision?”
You slot your lips against his, licking at the seam of his lips without waiting for further invitation. He scrambles with the latch on the gate, though you’re of no help at all with how you’re trying to pull him over it, but once that pesky barrier is pushed open just a little bit, he slides through the gap and seals his body against yours. Even though the cold doesn’t seem to be affecting him much, his breathing still comes out in pants, like he sprinted the whole way here from town without rest. He clasps his hands around the back of your neck, thumbs caressing the underside of your jaw, and each kiss he plants on your lips is more searing than the last. It takes all you have to not trip over backward on your feet with him guiding you back towards the door of your home. The two of you don’t even make it through the door before he’s pushing you up against the doorframe and slotting a knee between your thighs.
“Please, y/n, let me hear it from these pretty lips,” he begs. Your whole body is alight with something — either magick or lust or something in between those things that you can’t distinguish at present. The heat radiating off his body makes your head spin, and it’s such an intoxicating sensation that you reach your hands beneath the fabric of his cloak to be closer to skin.
“I trust you, I need you, I want you to have me,” you murmur back. Mingi pushes his lower lip out with the tip of his tongue. His gaze carries the same heat you’ve grown used to seeing all the time when you look at his eyes. Now, the weight of it feels heavier. Your breath hitches in your throat as he wraps an arm around your back, and his fingers dig into your side briefly. You’re pulled away from the doorframe and into the house only for him to slam the door shut and lock the snow out. What you aren’t expecting is to be flattened to the surface face first mere seconds later.
“I want to have you right here and now,” Mingi growls behind you. Every brush of his hands over your body leaves goosebumps in their wake along with the heat of his magick seeping into your skin. He takes apart your bodice carefully, pulling each string with a startling amount of care compared to his desperate rush to have you. A sort of fever takes hold of you, and with each piece of clothing he removes from your being, the more the fire in your belly roars. Glancing down, you see your clothes fallen into a heap on the floor, along with his cloak, then his coat, his shirt — each piece of fabric goes to join the pile until you feel bare skin against yours. The bliss of the contact is so immense that you let out a pitiful moan.
“Mingi.”
“Raise your arms over your head for me, y/n.”
“Mingi,” you utter again, following the instruction without a breath of hesitation. He takes both of your wrists between just one of his hands and pins them to the flat surface of the door. Your chest trembles under your breaths.
“I will not be rough with you unless you allow it. How I take you is up to you… whether it be me taking you apart gently or fucking you hot and raw right here and now.” You can’t take the sensation of his breathing down your neck without squirming. No matter how hard you squeeze your thighs together, there’s no relief for the pulsing need for pressure there. The moment Mingi catches onto your attempts, he wedges his knee between your legs and leaves you to rock back on his muscled thigh for some sort of escape.
“Please.” It’s as though there’s cotton in your mouth keeping you from fully forming any kind of sentence because although your thoughts are running at a mile per minute, you cannot seem to get more than one word out at a time. Mingi nudges you forward into the door once again. He replaces the pressure of his thigh with his unoccupied hand, cupping your cunt and dragging his middle finger along the slit of your folds.
“You’re coming undone already, my little witch.” Mingi suddenly flicks his finger forward over your clit, and your knees buckle. Your reaction delights him so much that he repeats the action two more times, and your body truly becomes putty in his hands. He keeps you up between the hand holding your wrists to the door and the one cupped around your sex, but you aren’t sure your muscles could keep you up on their own without the help. Especially not when Mingi gets more daring and pulls a second finger into the mix to tease the ring of your entrance with small, methodical circles.
“Put them in me, put your fingers in!” you cry out only for Mingi to roll over your clit once again. His cock is twitching against your ass, firm and big, and part of you wants to forget everything else solely to have him in your mouth and down your throat.
“Is that how good girls ask for things?” He pinches your clit between his fingers until you’re whimpering out an apology and smearing drool across the door. “Ask again. Nicely this time, sweetheart.”
“Please f-fuck me with your fingers, please open me up for you, I w-want to feel you so badly.” Nonsensical babbling is enough for him, blessedly, because you’re not confident that anything more coherent than that could make its way out of you right now. He rolls the pads of his fingers up against your clit again before going any lower. His laugh is borderline sadistic when you curl your fingers into the wood, nails clawing for some sort of grip that will help you ground yourself. “Wanna come so—!”
“That’s it, come for me, lovely. Then I’ll fuck you nice and loose on my fingers while you’re coming.” Mingi retracts his fingers right when your gut clenches, and as your walls squeeze tight around nothing, he slips two digits into your cunt. Your lips part in a silent scream, moans caught in the back of your throat. Your vision goes white behind your eyelids though it lasts so much longer than what you’re used to getting from your own hand and toys. Perhaps it’s because Mingi doesn’t let up on you even in the throes of your orgasm, or thanks to your magickal energies intertwining in the most raw and intimate way imaginable. “Let me open you up some more first, then I’ll give you what you want.”
You blink your eyes open and look at Mingi out your peripherals, mouth wide open and cheek still pressed harshly into the door even though you’re the one keeping it there.
“Do you want it too?” you ask out of the blue. Your voice is tight and strained. His fingers curl inside you.
“So badly,” comes his quick reply, “that it’s taking everything in me not to put my dick in you right now. But I don’t want to hurt you.” As though to emphasize his feelings, Mingi rolls his hips forward, and his cock rubs hard against your ass. “Doesn’t even look like it’s gonna fit in you, fuck.”
“Mingi, I need you in me now, like right this instant now, not in five minutes now.” The first orgasm has your vision hazy and legs wobbly, but that’s far from a concern to you at the moment. Your urgency pushes the man behind you to have the same sort of franticness, hurriedly slipping his fingers free of your cunt and readjusting his hold so that he can grip the base of his dick. You hold perfectly still for him as he lines himself up with your waiting hole that’s already sopping with arousal. Your pussy takes him in like it’s greedy for it, each inch sliding in and spreading you wider to accommodate to his size. One thing’s for certain: Mingi has a stupidly big dick, so big that it makes you wonder if you’d be able to feel it through your stomach if you put a hand there.
Whatever shreds of patience he had left in him turn to ash the second he’s fully buried balls-deep in you. He doesn’t wait even a second before he pulls out about halfway, and the only stutter in his rhythm comes from him trying to find it. You’re suddenly rather glad that he’s keeping your hands up for you because the drive of his cock inside your pussy would bring you to your knees otherwise. The sounds of pleasure fill your ears — his low baritone moans tangled alongside your more throaty ones that crack here and there, the slap of his hips hitting your ass, and the thumping of the door as he fucks you so hard against it that it trembles.
“Y-You’re so deep, I feel you in my stomach,” you choke out between moans. It devolves into a sob as Mingi shifts his angle upwards a bit and hits a new spot deep inside you that has you seeing stars.
“Yeah? Your pussy is clinging to me nice and tight, lovely, I think you like it a little too much.” He has enough composure to still speak without crying, meanwhile, tears are starting to pool at the corners of your eyes as the overstimulation of your senses and nerves reaches unimaginable heights. “Bet your pretty little toy isn’t even half as big as me.”
Mingi thrusts so hard into you that his grip on your wrists falters, and one of your hands falls free. He doesn’t bother correcting it, nor do you try to keep it up any longer, instead rushing to get your fingers around your clit again. You’re so hyperfocused on chasing the high of another orgasm that you don’t warn him it’s about to hit you this time. He knows well enough when your body seizes for a moment before releasing every bit of tension in your muscles. Your walls flex around his cock, working him in time with the waves of your euphoria, until he can’t take it anymore and pulls free of your hole. He rests his length atop the cleft of your ass and thrusts a few more times there, then comes his release. Hot ropes of come shoot out from his cock, painting your naked back into a messy canvas of come and sweat.
Despite the sudden quiet filling the house, your hearing is hypervigilant and clings to every slight noise that comes from your partner, from his fight to get air into his lungs to the hand he now rubs over his spent cock.
“You…” Your throat is too dry and you end up coughing instead of getting a sentence out. Mingi’s fingers trace small, unknown patterns into your hip. “You’re welcome to stay through winter. That’s my answer.”
“Through winter?” Mingi hums. He slips his hand around your waist and flattens his large palm over your abdomen. “What about spring?”
“Then too.”
“And summer?” He’s teasing you again. Somehow he still has the energy to do that.
“And summer and autumn then winter again. But maybe by the spring after that, I’ll be sick of you!”
“You won’t be,” he says through a laugh, lips brushing against the side of your head. You’re going to need better retorts if he plans on sticking around that long.
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this work belongs to caly / hongism (2023). do not copy, repost, or plagiarize in any way.
birthday by ten
you give your boyfriend his final birthday gift, a performance you’re sure he’ll never forget
⇀ pairing mingi x reader
⇀ genre suggestive fluff
⇀ style one-shot
⇀ word count 2.2k
⇀ warnings reader dances suggestively, lots of touch/grabbing, kissing
note happy mingi day, i busted this little thing out for his birthday and i hope you enjoy (barely proofread so excuse that)
“i have one last gift,” you said with a tap to mingi’s shoulder as he closed the front door behind himself, toeing his shoes off and starting to bend down to help you with your own before your hand makes its way under his chin and pulls him back up.
he looks surprised when you stop him at first, face crinkled in confusion before he sees the smirk on your lips and his own features change to match yours. “which is,” he trails off and starts to lean in, lips puckered slightly as he expects for you to close the distance and give him a kiss. however, you only take a step back, fingers trailing gently down his arm before you grasp his hand and lead him further into your apartment.
his eyes never leave your form, even as you push him to sit down on the couch and try to move away from him again. he doesn’t let you at first, keeping your hand firmly enclosed in his as long as he can manage before finally allowing you to escape him.
you take a breath to push the nerves down for a moment as you make your way to the center of the room, pulling out your phone and quickly finding the app where you’d already queued up a song. you double check that you’re connected to the speaker you’d set in the living room before you’d left for dinner and place your device on top. with one last breath, and a teasing glance over your shoulder to find your boyfriend practically on the edge of his seat, you press play.
you try to ignore the way you can hear mingi suck in a sharp breath as the song starts, getting an idea of where the night is heading, and you try to keep your focus on the choreography you’d planned, with a little help from yunho and san, earlier that week. you let the music flow through you, still facing away from the man you’re putting on a show for, and gather all of the confidence that you can muster as you sway your hips to the beat, emphasizing your ass with a deliberate arch of your back.
you whip around to face mingi and the way the man is looking at you almost causes you to pause before you remember that you’re supposed to be the one seducing him, his eyes practically removing every layer of the outfit you’d worn that night for his birthday dinner. however, as much as you want to just forget the rest of your routine and indulge in your boyfriend in this moment, you don’t want to disappoint with the present you’d promised. instead, you continue with your performance, sensually lowering yourself to your knees as the lyrics of the song prompted you down, down, down. you tried to continue focusing on yourself, using your hands to run along your body until you got to your thighs, giving them a gentle slap before spreading them with a wink. if you weren’t so focused on the moves you had planned to do next you might have noticed the way mingi had seemed to stiffen, very obviously affected by the moves you were pulling off.
as the chorus of the song hits, you move onto your hands and knees, starting to crawl toward your boyfriend and now fully aware of the way he instinctively spreads his legs for you, bottom lip caught between his teeth as he watches you inch toward him. you take your time but eventually end up kneeling between his legs, placing your palms onto each of his knees and using his sturdy legs to push yourself up, being sure to arch your back so that your chest is placed perfectly into mingi’s line of sight and making him lean back. his shoulders hit the cushion behind him with an audible thump and you, partly as a reflex but mostly because you know it will continue to rile him up, use your thumb to pull your boyfriend’s bottom lip from between his teeth. the act receives the intended effect immediately, mingi releasing a shuddering whine that sends a shiver through your limbs and makes the tips of your fingers tingle.
you trail your fingertips down the side of his neck and over his collarbone, resisting the urge to grab at his collar and just pull him into a passionate kiss to break the tension. instead, you continue to move your hand to press against his chest and let out a whisper to match the lyrics that have almost become background noise to the energy between you both. you command, let’s make tonight your birthday.
as the next line mentions hands, hands, hands, you use your own to grab his and lift his arms above his head, interlocking your fingers as you climb onto his lap. your thighs press into mingi’s gently as you straddle his lap, keeping your hips raised as to not place your entire weight onto him and to raise your face above his, forcing him to tilt his head back to look up at you. you continue to lean into your boyfriend, forcing his arms back gently and making his back arch slightly. as you move forward, you start to close the distance between your faces, mingi watching you with intense interest through heavily lidded eyes.
just as your bottom lip ghosts against the delicate skin of his chin you drop your hips down, releasing your weight onto his lap, and straighten out your fingers to let your hands slip out of his. you let your hands drag down the undersides of his arms as he starts to sit back up, no longer being pressed backward into the couch, but he keeps his arms up until your palms meet his body once more, pressing into the thick muscle of his pecs as you lean in until your chests barely meet.
for a moment he brings his hands down to wrap around each of your wrists lightly but you quickly push against him and maneuver your hands to switch positions, encasing his wrists in your fingers instead. he’s pliant under you as you move his hands toward your waist and he responds immediately, holding you with a gentleness that radiates the care only mingi can express through touch alone.
you try to mimic that tenderness as you place your hands onto either side of his face, using your thumbs to run over the apples of his cheeks before pressing into the mole under his eye, a gesture you’ve done hundreds of times before as a way to silently express your love for your boyfriend. you can tell he recognizes it right away, letting a sigh release from his chest and a shiver run down his spine as he closes his eyes, giving your waist a soft squeeze in gratitude.
before either of you can get too lost into the moment, you are pulling away from him, moving back into the center of the room to dance along as the chorus begins again.
being the more choreographed part of the routine, you opt to avoid looking at mingi for fear that his pointed gaze will make you freeze up once again. rather, you choose to keep your gaze on the floor or your hands, hoping that the decision comes off as sultry and mysterious instead of shy or intimidated.
the bridge approachs quicker than you anticipate and soon your eyes are flicking up to meet mingi’s as you bring a hand up, curling a finger toward yourself as you ask for his full attention as though his focus has been anywhere but you for the last two minutes and twenty seconds. however, with the outfit you’d worn to dinner tonight, his attention has been on you more than anything else for most of the night.
you can see the hesitation behind his eyes as he debates whether you’re asking him to actually approach you or simply keep paying attention but fortunately you answer that question for him quickly as you approach, one hand presented out in front of you for him to take and you tug gently to pull him to stand. you easily guide him to where you had been standing before and do a few seductive twirls, keeping your hands connected above your head before you let it go and release them to make your way behind him.
for a moment you don’t do anything, letting the tension simmer as the music builds, and mingi’s head turns out of curiosity. he tries to peek at you out of the corner of his eye, wondering what exactly you’re up to, right as the breakdown begins and your arms wrap around his waist, hands splayed on the fronts of his hips and moving down over the tops of his thighs.
he jumps slightly at the surprise contact, his head whipping down to watch your hands on his body.
“relax,” you breath as you notice how tense he is, muscle under your fingers held tight.
you hear him exhale and notice the way his back moves, his shoulders lowering as he tries to just enjoy the moment.
you continue to run your hands down as far as you can reach without bending your knees, your chest flush against his broad back for a moment too long before you pull your hands back up, passing where they had begun and ending up caressing his abdomen. once again, he tenses a bit, although before you can mention his reaction, he’s relaxing, head tilting back slightly and you assume he closes his eyes.
your lips stretch into a smile at his reaction and you run your nails over his abs, opening your arms to drag along the thin fabric of his dress shirt until your reach his sides and he jerks just slightly at the gentle tickle. you chuckle quietly at his response to the touch and you can already hear the beginnings of a whine bubble in the back of his throat but you don’t give him time to release it before you’re retracting your hands and moving around to be in his line of sight once more.
you’re a little surprised mingi has managed to keep his hands to himself this whole time, remaining loose enough for you to manipulate, but you’d guess it’s mostly due to the surprise factor.
the song has started to build to the chorus for the final time and with a single hand to his chest you manage to back him up until he’s seated once more, not even bothering to fight back even though you could see his hands itching to be on you in some way.
he settles quickly, ready to see the finale of your performance, and you watch his tongue trail over his bottom lip as he gives you a thorough look up and down.
you don’t back away from him as you turn once more and decide that he’s been patient enough for the last three minutes, sitting directly onto his lap as the chorus hits and rolling your body against his. your hands search for his own and once you find them you guide them to your body, pressing them into your front as a way to prompt him to place them anywhere he’d like. immediately he holds on, kneading and stroking along your form, being sure to pay extra attention to his favorite spots, and you can’t help but let your head roll back onto his shoulder. his lips find purchase on your neck quickly, gentle kisses quickly becoming open mouthed until he’s nipping at the shell of your ear.
neither of you are focused on the music much anymore as he wraps his arms completely around you, closing the distance between your back and his front. he continues to attack your neck as your hand finds its way into his hair, tugging gently at the black and blonde strands and feeling his hot breath on your skin as a breathy moan slips past his lips. his reaction sends a shiver through you, your nerves immediately lit on fire.
“thank you,” mingi breathes out, pressing a tender kiss on your shoulder that’s so sweet it contrasts the heated energy flowing between you both.
you hum in satisfaction when he returns to nibbling at your skin, noticing the final lines of the song booming through the speaker and you somehow manage to push through the intoxicating power of your boyfriend to pry his arms off of you and stand, although he refuses to let you get far as two of his hands catch one of yours.
you don’t fight, instead simply turning to straddle his lap once again, grasp firm on his strong shoulders. his own hands find purchase on the flesh of your ass and you try not to react when he massages your cheeks.
let’s make tonight your birthday
as the final line rings out into the thick air of your apartment, you lean in, finally pressing your lips against his own and letting them move together. the kiss is electric as you finally dance together, passionate and hot.
when you break away only a moment later, mingi follows you until you’re holding his face in your hands and you can finally say what’s been on the edge of your tongue all night.
“happy birthday,” you whisper, and as soon as the words are out, he’s diving back into you, the taste of appreciation on his tongue.
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bringing this back for my favorite boy’s birthday!!
birthday by ten
you give your boyfriend his final birthday gift, a performance you’re sure he’ll never forget
⇀ pairing mingi x reader
⇀ genre suggestive fluff
⇀ style one-shot
⇀ word count 2.2k
⇀ warnings reader dances suggestively, lots of touch/grabbing, kissing
note happy mingi day, i busted this little thing out for his birthday and i hope you enjoy (barely proofread so excuse that)
“i have one last gift,” you said with a tap to mingi’s shoulder as he closed the front door behind himself, toeing his shoes off and starting to bend down to help you with your own before your hand makes its way under his chin and pulls him back up.
he looks surprised when you stop him at first, face crinkled in confusion before he sees the smirk on your lips and his own features change to match yours. “which is,” he trails off and starts to lean in, lips puckered slightly as he expects for you to close the distance and give him a kiss. however, you only take a step back, fingers trailing gently down his arm before you grasp his hand and lead him further into your apartment.
his eyes never leave your form, even as you push him to sit down on the couch and try to move away from him again. he doesn’t let you at first, keeping your hand firmly enclosed in his as long as he can manage before finally allowing you to escape him.
you take a breath to push the nerves down for a moment as you make your way to the center of the room, pulling out your phone and quickly finding the app where you’d already queued up a song. you double check that you’re connected to the speaker you’d set in the living room before you’d left for dinner and place your device on top. with one last breath, and a teasing glance over your shoulder to find your boyfriend practically on the edge of his seat, you press play.
you try to ignore the way you can hear mingi suck in a sharp breath as the song starts, getting an idea of where the night is heading, and you try to keep your focus on the choreography you’d planned, with a little help from yunho and san, earlier that week. you let the music flow through you, still facing away from the man you’re putting on a show for, and gather all of the confidence that you can muster as you sway your hips to the beat, emphasizing your ass with a deliberate arch of your back.
you whip around to face mingi and the way the man is looking at you almost causes you to pause before you remember that you’re supposed to be the one seducing him, his eyes practically removing every layer of the outfit you’d worn that night for his birthday dinner. however, as much as you want to just forget the rest of your routine and indulge in your boyfriend in this moment, you don’t want to disappoint with the present you’d promised. instead, you continue with your performance, sensually lowering yourself to your knees as the lyrics of the song prompted you down, down, down. you tried to continue focusing on yourself, using your hands to run along your body until you got to your thighs, giving them a gentle slap before spreading them with a wink. if you weren’t so focused on the moves you had planned to do next you might have noticed the way mingi had seemed to stiffen, very obviously affected by the moves you were pulling off.
as the chorus of the song hits, you move onto your hands and knees, starting to crawl toward your boyfriend and now fully aware of the way he instinctively spreads his legs for you, bottom lip caught between his teeth as he watches you inch toward him. you take your time but eventually end up kneeling between his legs, placing your palms onto each of his knees and using his sturdy legs to push yourself up, being sure to arch your back so that your chest is placed perfectly into mingi’s line of sight and making him lean back. his shoulders hit the cushion behind him with an audible thump and you, partly as a reflex but mostly because you know it will continue to rile him up, use your thumb to pull your boyfriend’s bottom lip from between his teeth. the act receives the intended effect immediately, mingi releasing a shuddering whine that sends a shiver through your limbs and makes the tips of your fingers tingle.
you trail your fingertips down the side of his neck and over his collarbone, resisting the urge to grab at his collar and just pull him into a passionate kiss to break the tension. instead, you continue to move your hand to press against his chest and let out a whisper to match the lyrics that have almost become background noise to the energy between you both. you command, let’s make tonight your birthday.
as the next line mentions hands, hands, hands, you use your own to grab his and lift his arms above his head, interlocking your fingers as you climb onto his lap. your thighs press into mingi’s gently as you straddle his lap, keeping your hips raised as to not place your entire weight onto him and to raise your face above his, forcing him to tilt his head back to look up at you. you continue to lean into your boyfriend, forcing his arms back gently and making his back arch slightly. as you move forward, you start to close the distance between your faces, mingi watching you with intense interest through heavily lidded eyes.
just as your bottom lip ghosts against the delicate skin of his chin you drop your hips down, releasing your weight onto his lap, and straighten out your fingers to let your hands slip out of his. you let your hands drag down the undersides of his arms as he starts to sit back up, no longer being pressed backward into the couch, but he keeps his arms up until your palms meet his body once more, pressing into the thick muscle of his pecs as you lean in until your chests barely meet.
for a moment he brings his hands down to wrap around each of your wrists lightly but you quickly push against him and maneuver your hands to switch positions, encasing his wrists in your fingers instead. he’s pliant under you as you move his hands toward your waist and he responds immediately, holding you with a gentleness that radiates the care only mingi can express through touch alone.
you try to mimic that tenderness as you place your hands onto either side of his face, using your thumbs to run over the apples of his cheeks before pressing into the mole under his eye, a gesture you’ve done hundreds of times before as a way to silently express your love for your boyfriend. you can tell he recognizes it right away, letting a sigh release from his chest and a shiver run down his spine as he closes his eyes, giving your waist a soft squeeze in gratitude.
before either of you can get too lost into the moment, you are pulling away from him, moving back into the center of the room to dance along as the chorus begins again.
being the more choreographed part of the routine, you opt to avoid looking at mingi for fear that his pointed gaze will make you freeze up once again. rather, you choose to keep your gaze on the floor or your hands, hoping that the decision comes off as sultry and mysterious instead of shy or intimidated.
the bridge approachs quicker than you anticipate and soon your eyes are flicking up to meet mingi’s as you bring a hand up, curling a finger toward yourself as you ask for his full attention as though his focus has been anywhere but you for the last two minutes and twenty seconds. however, with the outfit you’d worn to dinner tonight, his attention has been on you more than anything else for most of the night.
you can see the hesitation behind his eyes as he debates whether you’re asking him to actually approach you or simply keep paying attention but fortunately you answer that question for him quickly as you approach, one hand presented out in front of you for him to take and you tug gently to pull him to stand. you easily guide him to where you had been standing before and do a few seductive twirls, keeping your hands connected above your head before you let it go and release them to make your way behind him.
for a moment you don’t do anything, letting the tension simmer as the music builds, and mingi’s head turns out of curiosity. he tries to peek at you out of the corner of his eye, wondering what exactly you’re up to, right as the breakdown begins and your arms wrap around his waist, hands splayed on the fronts of his hips and moving down over the tops of his thighs.
he jumps slightly at the surprise contact, his head whipping down to watch your hands on his body.
“relax,” you breath as you notice how tense he is, muscle under your fingers held tight.
you hear him exhale and notice the way his back moves, his shoulders lowering as he tries to just enjoy the moment.
you continue to run your hands down as far as you can reach without bending your knees, your chest flush against his broad back for a moment too long before you pull your hands back up, passing where they had begun and ending up caressing his abdomen. once again, he tenses a bit, although before you can mention his reaction, he’s relaxing, head tilting back slightly and you assume he closes his eyes.
your lips stretch into a smile at his reaction and you run your nails over his abs, opening your arms to drag along the thin fabric of his dress shirt until your reach his sides and he jerks just slightly at the gentle tickle. you chuckle quietly at his response to the touch and you can already hear the beginnings of a whine bubble in the back of his throat but you don’t give him time to release it before you’re retracting your hands and moving around to be in his line of sight once more.
you’re a little surprised mingi has managed to keep his hands to himself this whole time, remaining loose enough for you to manipulate, but you’d guess it’s mostly due to the surprise factor.
the song has started to build to the chorus for the final time and with a single hand to his chest you manage to back him up until he’s seated once more, not even bothering to fight back even though you could see his hands itching to be on you in some way.
he settles quickly, ready to see the finale of your performance, and you watch his tongue trail over his bottom lip as he gives you a thorough look up and down.
you don’t back away from him as you turn once more and decide that he’s been patient enough for the last three minutes, sitting directly onto his lap as the chorus hits and rolling your body against his. your hands search for his own and once you find them you guide them to your body, pressing them into your front as a way to prompt him to place them anywhere he’d like. immediately he holds on, kneading and stroking along your form, being sure to pay extra attention to his favorite spots, and you can’t help but let your head roll back onto his shoulder. his lips find purchase on your neck quickly, gentle kisses quickly becoming open mouthed until he’s nipping at the shell of your ear.
neither of you are focused on the music much anymore as he wraps his arms completely around you, closing the distance between your back and his front. he continues to attack your neck as your hand finds its way into his hair, tugging gently at the black and blonde strands and feeling his hot breath on your skin as a breathy moan slips past his lips. his reaction sends a shiver through you, your nerves immediately lit on fire.
“thank you,” mingi breathes out, pressing a tender kiss on your shoulder that’s so sweet it contrasts the heated energy flowing between you both.
you hum in satisfaction when he returns to nibbling at your skin, noticing the final lines of the song booming through the speaker and you somehow manage to push through the intoxicating power of your boyfriend to pry his arms off of you and stand, although he refuses to let you get far as two of his hands catch one of yours.
you don’t fight, instead simply turning to straddle his lap once again, grasp firm on his strong shoulders. his own hands find purchase on the flesh of your ass and you try not to react when he massages your cheeks.
let’s make tonight your birthday
as the final line rings out into the thick air of your apartment, you lean in, finally pressing your lips against his own and letting them move together. the kiss is electric as you finally dance together, passionate and hot.
when you break away only a moment later, mingi follows you until you’re holding his face in your hands and you can finally say what’s been on the edge of your tongue all night.
“happy birthday,” you whisper, and as soon as the words are out, he’s diving back into you, the taste of appreciation on his tongue.
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this night together - chapter ten (j.yh + s.mg)
chapter ten: the truth
chapter summary: seonghwa needs a friend and you say goodbye to your friends and goodbye to them as tour begins.
warnings: nothing too explicit except there is a frank discussion about alpha/omega/beta dynamics and pack dynamics that somewhat mirror real life lgbtqia+ issues like family not being accepting, societal pressures, etc.
notes: thank you all for waiting for me, i can't thank you enough honestly. it took a while to push through and get through the middle of this fic, but we're there. today (12.3) is a special update day, i'm posting three chapters - ten, eleven, and twelve. make sure you're reading in order starting here!
pairings: alpha!yunho x alpha!mingi x omega!reader
genre: smut, a/b/o/omegaverse, angst, fluff, romance, polyamory
word count: 5k
previous chapter | next chapter | AO3
Surprisingly the next few weeks pass with relative ease. It’s not painful like before, the crushing weight of their cold isolation. This time you all know exactly where you stand, and with you asking them for space it feels like you’re a little more in control of when and how the next conversation with them occurs.
You spend the weeks working, keeping things cordial in the studio, and seeing your friends. Keeping things busy gives you less time to step back into that studio room and wonder what you should have done differently, so you fill your schedule up to the brim. In looking forward to the tour and the impending lack of your social circle, you start to reach out little by little to other members of the BB Tripping group too.
There’s a gap in your life without them, but for now that has to be okay. For now, you grow your life in every other way you can.
You’re able to focus on everything else until Seonghwa calls.
Little cafe meetups aren’t out of the ordinary for you both, but meeting at a new spot halfway across Seoul is. You’re normally so attached to the neighborhoods around the studio, so the idea that you’d actually have to take the subway and follow directions on your phone sends little warning signals up your back. He sounded mostly fine on the phone, but something a little whispered in his tone left you agreeing to meet immediately.
He said he just wants to see you one more time before the tour, but you feel the strange bubble of pretense around the whole set up. When you finally get there, after thirty minutes and much confusion, he meets you at the door with a clear expression of relief. He buys you a coffee and a fancy tiered pastry, and then shuffles you towards the empty, far end of the cafe.
“The trip wasn’t too bad?” He checks as he pulls out your chair, “I wanted to try this place,”
A smooth lie, but you’ll let it go, “It was fine,” you assure him, “this street is cute,”
“Mm,” He nods.
You have so, so many questions, but you start small, “Three months,” you sigh, settling into the seat, “it feels kind of weird,”
“Yeah,” Seonghwa pushes your chair in and takes his own seat, “it’s hard to pack for a tour,”
“I can’t even imagine,” You grimace.
“You get really sick of miniature toiletries after about a week,” He says, “and you’d think that all the travel would be great, but you end up sitting in hotel rooms most of the time.”
“Well,” You shrug, “you can always call me for an update on the studio,”
“Oh, I will,” He laughs, “the time difference is pretty tough though,”
“Still,” You insist, “we’ll make it work.”
Silence lulls between you, he nods at your words but doesn’t say much else, and you watch as he fingers fiddle with the handle of his cup, restless and seemingly on edge. He needs something, you just don’t know what.
“Seonghwa,” You murmur, “is everything okay?”
“Yes,” He drops his hand into his lap, “completely fine,”
You chew the inside of your lip, wondering whether to press him, “Are you sure?”
He looks down for a moment and then nods, “Everything is fine, but I wanted to talk to you about something,”
“Okay,”
“Me and San,” He says in a rush of exhaled breath.
“Oh,” Your eyes widen, completely blindsided by his words. You thought if he chose to share this with you it would be months, years even. He was so closed off after your heat that you assumed you’d let it lie, just like Wooyoung, but here you are.
“You said I could talk to you about this,” He continues when he sees your expression, “but if,”
“Of course you can,” You shake off your expression as fast as you can, “I just didn’t know that’s what you were going to say.”
“It’s just that I’ve been thinking a lot about it,” He says, “especially considering everything you’ve been dealing with,”
You nod, but keep quiet.
“I don’t know, I thought it would be good to get it out there,” He confesses.
“Then I’m here, I’m listening,” You lean forwards, nodding again in encouragement.
He takes a moment to get his words together, and it suddenly makes sense why he wanted to try a cafe in a neighborhood neither of you lived or worked near. He reached out to you to talk about this, to finally share with someone, and he wanted to be one hundred percent sure no one from your lives would overhear.
“Our thing,” Seonghwa nods and you know he means his relationship with San and Wooyoung, “it started off a lot like yours.” He doesn’t need to say their names, you know who he means.
You smile, “Accidental and stressful?”
“Definitely accidental,” He nods, “we had been friends for years, and Wooyoung always dealt with his heats outside of work and without us really knowing much about it,”
“Really?” You find that hard to believe with how much he overshares.
“Mhm,” Seonghwa turns the cup on his saucer one way and then back the other as he figures out how to start. “Usually anyways, but about two years ago he was out for his heat leave like normal, and he called San in a panic. The alpha he arranged to meet flaked out on him and he was too far gone at some heat hotel in Incheon. He didn’t have anything he needed, the alpha was supposed to bring it all,”
“God,” You grimace at the thought.
“Exactly,” Seonghwa nods, “he was in a lot of pain and he was really scared,”
“Of course,”
“San called me,” Seonghwa explains, “he was nervous about spending Wooyoung’s heat with him, even though he agreed.”
You nod, but stay quiet to give him the space to continue.
His eyes dart down, a little unfocused as he sinks into the memory of it, “He was so concerned about hurting Wooyoung or doing the wrong thing, and he was begging me to give him advice. Advice just turned into me offering to drive him to Incheon and helping him shop for supplies, and before you knew it I was up in the room with them both.”
“Wooyoung was okay with that?” You ask.
He nods, “Wooyoung was fine, more interested in making sure neither one of us was uncomfortable between his heat spikes,”
You nod again.
Seonghwa looks back up to you then and sighs, “Before Youngie’s heat, I had a bit of a crush on San. It was really nothing, just a bit of a flirtation in my mind. Someone to think about alone at night, you know,”
“Yeah,” You think of Yunho for a brief, flashing second and the way you used to watch him around the studio.
“But that heat changed everything,” He smiles, a little sadly, “I think you know what I mean.”
You fight the urge to reach across the table and take his hand, fearful that you might break his willingness to open up.
“The funny part,” He says, a fresh crease between his brows, “is that San felt the same way. We both knew alpha pairings were a little unorthodox, but for a while we didn’t care. We carried on for a few months, but we kept it quiet so it didn’t interfere with work or any of our friendships.”
Your eyes widen.
“Wooyoung still doesn’t know about that part,” He says quietly, “so I’d appreciate it if you kept that between us,”
“Of course, Hwa,”
“Things started to go further though. We were going on dates without calling them dates, sleeping at each other’s places, leaving things behind. We were texting all the time, sneaking kisses in the locker room,” He explains, “we just couldn’t leave each other alone.”
He goes quiet again, and this time you do reach across the table, resting your hand over his twitching fingers, “What happened?”
He swallows tightly and he looks away again, but his hand turns under yours to press your palms together, “One morning San asked if I wanted to spend the weekend in Namhae, he missed his family and thought it would be nice if we all spent some time together.”
“Oh,” You breathe, the pieces of their story falling together in front of you so easily.
“I couldn’t do it,” He confesses, “and I said some things I shouldn’t have. I told him that I loved him, but that our friendship was what mattered to me, and that we were kidding ourselves by not trying to find omegas of our own.”
Your cringe, “Seonghwa,”
“I know,” He breathes, his head dropping, “it was cruel.”
“Your relationship,” You squeeze his hand, “what you had with San wasn’t wrong, you know that right? It’s perfectly,”
His head snaps up, “I know it’s not wrong.”
It feels like all the air has been sucked out of the room at the expression in his eyes, fierce determination as he snaps to defend himself. You stay silent.
“I’m sorry,” He shakes his head, pulling his hand back, “I do know that, that’s not why I broke it off.”
“Then,”
“My family is very traditional,” Seonghwa says, “they believe that alphas and omegas are made as a perfect match. They believe that every alpha has a destined omega and that a bond, a claim, should be between one alpha and one omega only.”
“That’s so,” You trail off, unable to really form the words. Traditional is a kind, sanitized word for what it is. You would have said bigoted, downright prejudicial, and your chest aches at the idea that he grew up cocooned in that kind of indoctrination.
“Hypocritical,” His cheek twitches, “considering my parents loathe each other.”
You smile at that, “I’m sorry,”
He shrugs, his cool exterior slotting back into place, “It’s a shame that we’re not a scent match, honestly. My parents would be so proud of me if I brought you home,”
You take his hand again, brushing smoothly past his comment, “Are they so traditional they don’t believe in packs either?”
“That’s worse,” He crinkles his nose, “to them.”
Packs have always been a little controversial, especially with the rise in beta designations and the decreasing likelihood that omegas will find a true honest-to-god scent match, but it’s not unheard of. Polyamory and packs have started to crop back up in popular media, and it’s becoming more and more common to see an omega paired with two or more alphas despite the traditionalist view that it’s a return to baser, more primal instincts. You were raised knowing packs were an option, but as you listen to Seonghwa and understand his past, you know everything for him was the opposite.
“I really am sorry,” You murmur, “it must have been difficult to grow up surrounded by that mindset.”
He nods, and then takes a long sip of his untouched coffee.
The threads are coming together more clearly, but there’s still a question lingering in your mind and the words leave you without any real consideration, “If you don’t believe that, then why break it off with San?”
He grimaces, “My parents are fairly wealthy,”
Your stomach turns icy.
“And you know the money in dance isn’t exactly overwhelming,” He explains, “they’ve always offered their financial support to me, but it’s incredibly conditional.”
“Hwa,” You breathe.
“San thought I chose the money over him,” Seonghwa leans back in his chair, separating your hands again and resting his wrists on the edge of the table, “I tried to explain the situation to him, I tried to apologize for what I said and ask him for more time… time to figure everything out and to be able to be financially independent from them, but all he heard was that I wasn’t willing to lose the money.”
You shake your head, but he keeps going.
“You know how he is, he’s more headstrong than anyone I’ve ever met. Once he has an idea, there’s no telling him differently.” Seonghwa explains.
“But it’s not true,” You’re suddenly so frustrated with Choi San you could wring his neck.
“It is what it is, y/n,”
“But,” You trail off, deflated, “aren’t you still seeing each other?”
“No,” He says firmly, “only for Wooyoung’s heats.”
“And that’s what? Working out fine?” Your eyebrows dart up.
“For now,” He sighs, “and I’m under no big illusion that he’s going to forgive me and we’re going to go riding off into the sunset. He told me he wanted to be friends and he wanted us to continue being there for Wooyoung and we just let it go back to the way it was, and honestly,” his voice softens, “I’ll take some of him, even if I can never have all of him.”
“Oh, Hwa,”
His eyes are a little watery, but it clears quickly and he clears his throat, “Anyways, that’s it. That’s the tragic little story.”
“That’s just not fair,” You shake your head, “you should be together,”
He shakes his head, “Maybe, but I’m not willing to risk losing what I do have.”
“If San understood,” You start.
“Listen,” He cuts you off, “I know it seems like there should be this big movie scene, where we both admit we hurt each other and put it all behind us, and build a little pack together and have lots and lots of babies, but I just don’t think that’s going to happen. I’ve made peace with that.”
You can see plainly that he hasn’t, but in the same way he doesn’t push you on your relationship with Yunho and Mingi, you take a calculated step back from pressing down on this particular nerve.
“Okay,” You say, “well then thank you for telling me, and I’m here if you ever need to talk about it.”
“Thank you,” The air leaves him in a relieved rush.
“And Woo doesn’t know?” You’re hard pressed to believe that.
He shrugs lightly, “He knows something, we’ve spent enough heats together for him to see what’s there, but it’s not something we discuss.”
“Got it,” You murmur.
“And you?” He turns the conversation back with ease, “Have you thought about what you’re going to do?”
You nod, “I’m just going to leave it for a while. I’ll apologize when they come back and the air is cleared a little,”
“Apologize?”
“They’re not the only ones who’ve messed things up,” You tell him honestly, “and if I could take back what I said, I would.”
“Me too,” Seonghwa smiles softly.
“Besides,” You lean back in your chair, “you’ll all be gone tomorrow, and I’m sure I’ll talk to you and Woo and San, but you’ll be busy and in a completely different timezone. It’ll be for the best,”
“Maybe a change of scenery will be good for them,” Seonghwa adds.
“I hope so,” You murmur.
“I’m honestly surprised they haven’t said anything to me,” He points out, “but it’s been the same as always,”
“Really?”
He nods, smiling a little, “I thought for a second Mingi was being a little cold, but he just had earbuds in and couldn’t hear me,”
You laugh sharply, “Well,” you shrug, “I really gave it to them. Maybe they realized being jealous isn’t a good look, especially if we’re ever going to get the chance to be friends or try this again with a clean slate.”
Seonghwa chews at the inside of his lip for a moment and then sighs, “y/n, do you want to know what I really think?”
You dip your head, gesturing for him to continue.
“I think they’re idiots, and I think they acted like assholes and you deserve an apology for it,” You can sense that there’s something more and he continues, “but I’ve made those mistakes. I’ve pushed away someone I care about, I’ve said the wrong things, and I’ve had a hell of a time trying to patch it back together.”
Your stomach twists.
“I’m not telling you what to do,” He says, “but I’ve known Yunho and Mingi for a long time. I see the way they look at you, the way they talk about you. There’s more than just an attraction there, there’s something real for all of you.”
“That’s the part that’s terrifying,”
“Yeah,” He nods, “and you know, maybe don’t take advice from me, the guy whose love life is beyond a mess, but I also don’t want you to regret anything here.”
You reach for his hand again and take it without hesitation.
“I just need to think it through,” You say softly, “and then be brave,”
Seonghwa nods. You think that maybe if you can be brave, he can too, but you both let that thought lie in the space between you untouched. You don’t need to press him, not after everything he just shared with you and how much more you’re sure is there under the surface, but the thought is still understood by you both just the same.
“I know you’ll do what’s best for you,” Seonghwa adds after a moment, “but until then,”
“Until then let’s not think about it anymore,” You finish his words for him.
He takes another deep breath, and you can see the way telling his secret has lifted something away from his shoulders. He takes another long sip of his coffee and then finally he says, “Do you have anything else you’re doing today?”
You shake your head.
“Want to wander around and help me buy unnecessary travel accessories?” He grins.
“Seonghwa,” You squeeze his hand, “I would love nothing more,”
“Great,” He runs a hand through his hair, “then let’s go back to Hongdae, I don’t know any of the stores over here.”
“You owe me a train ticket,” You nudge him as you start to gather up your things.
“I bought you a coffee,” He points out, standing with you.
“You always buy my coffee,”
“Fine,” He rolls his eyes but you can see that it’s playful, “I’ll buy you a little thank you present for coming all the way out here,”
“That’s more like it,” You tease, pressing yourself up on your tiptoes and giving him a quick peck on the cheek, “now let’s go home,”
Despite your long goodbye afternoon with Seonghwa, it’s harder to really say goodbye to them all on the day than you thought it would be.
When the last practice before their flight is over, everyone dressed in their coats and hats and ready to go for the night, all of the BB Trippin crew lingers in the front entrance hall. Well wishes, talks of food to try, jet lag tips, the weather. You try to ignore the full suitcases by the door.
It isn’t until the very last moment that the real feeling of it starts to sink in.
Wooyoung’s arms are banded tightly around you when the realization of just how long three months is barrels over you in full force. You take a hitched little breath hiding in his shoulder and get your emotions in check, but it’s starting to become readily apparent now. You’re going to miss them, not just your friends, but them too.
There’s a part of you that fantasizes about throwing up your hands and confessing all your conflicting feelings, chasing them down in the airport like an old movie and laying it all on the line, but you’re not going to actually do that. It’s not fair to anyone if you do something like that. You laid out boundaries for the past few weeks, they more than respected them, and you have no doubt they’ll stay silent over the next few months just like you requested.
“I’m not going to war,” Wooyoung laughs, squeezing you back once as he tries to extricate himself from your arms, “it’s just tour,”
“No, I know, I know,” You clear your throat softly, “I’m going to miss you though,”
“Me too,” He smiles, running a hand through his hair as he steps back.
When you step back from him, Mingi and Yunho are closer than they were a few moments ago and they’re keeping their eyes elsewhere but you can’t let them go without a single word. You can’t. If anything happens to them you’d regret it so deeply, and your hand shoots out to brush along Mingi’s arm.
His eyes flash with recognition for a second, but he remains cool and calm when he turns to you and you watch Yunho follow suit.
“Have safe flight,” You manage, your chest tight at the idea that this is really it.
“You too,” Mingi says and then he sighs as he realizes his mistake, “not flight, obviously,”
“Right,” You smile, his awkwardness breaking the tension between you so easily.
“Be safe here,” Yunho offers, correcting the sentiment, “and good luck with all the debut preparation, I know it’ll go smoothly with you and Dahan handling things,”
Your chest warms, “Thank you, Yunho,”
He nods and then takes a step back, and suddenly there’s nothing more to say.
“Well, we should go,” Yunho clears his throat, “goodbye, y/n,”
“Bye,” You manage.
“Bye, y/n,” Mingi nods, turning to take the handle of his suitcase from Yunho.
They start towards the door, and you offer a final goodbye, and then a hand in the middle of your back draws your eyes to the side at Seonghwa.
“Safe flight,” Seonghwa murmurs the tease low into your ear as he gives you a fast hug.
“Shut up,” You shove him as subtly as you can.
He smiles, a little mischievously, “I’ll text you when we land.”
“Good,” You nod, “get some sleep on the plane,”
He salutes as he steps back and drops an arm around Wooyoung’s shoulders, “Yes, ma’am,”
You roll your eyes more obviously this time, but before they continue their teasing, Wooyoung tugs his friends closer to the door, “Alright, alright, I’m exhausted and our cab’s outside,”
“Bye, y/n,” Seonghwa calls over his shoulder as Wooyoung shoves him out the door, and you can hear San laughing from just outside, Yunho’s voice echoing beside it.
Movement from the door draws your eye, and Mingi hitches his duffle bag up over his shoulder. His lips quirk up in the smallest smile, and he waves, just a little.
You wave back with a nod, and then he’s gone.
The studio moves forward just the same. Quieter, but the same.
You and Dahan spend your time focused on the debut, and despite how much you think of them for just a flicker before you drop off into sleep every night, your body is so tired from work that your mind never dwells for too long.
Weeks pass around you in a busy blur
Three months doesn’t seem so long as it whips by around you, not unless you really let yourself slow down and think about it. You still get updates from your friends as they hop from city to city, photos online of New World where you can see your best friends in the back, and then their Instagram updates of every new strange dish they try.
Yunho and Mingi stay quiet, just like you needed, until one night they don’t.
The email sitting unread at the top of your inbox was sent three days ago. You rarely check your inbox, and there’s a real chance you would have missed this message entirely, but you just happened to be looking for an authentication code at the exact right time and there’s no mistaking what this email is when you stumble across it. There’s no subject, but there is a little preview pane of the first line and your breath catches in your throat when you see it.
y/n - You said don’t text and don’t call, but you never said don’t email.
Your heart tightens in your chest and you double check the email address. You don’t have it saved, but just know it’s Mingi. You need a drink for this. You step away from your desk and run your hands through your hair, heart beating fast, and you try to decide what to do as you leave your room for a breath and a glass of anything.
You pour some wine with shaky hands, the quiet of your apartment feeling so loud around you. If you open it, you won’t be able to live in an ignorant little bubble anymore. You could delete it, really put your foot down about no contact and keep moving on. You could do that.
You’re back at your desk seconds later with your cursor hovering over the email.
He’s not wrong. You never said don’t email.
With a gulp of wine for courage, you press down and brace yourself.
y/n -
You said don’t text and don’t call, but you never said don’t email. I’m not sending this so you’ll reply, I’d prefer if you didn’t, but honestly I’m not always the best at saying something in the moment. Please forgive this.
I’ve thought a lot about us the past few weeks and I wanted you to know that I understand why you’re confused. It was hard to see it before. Something made me insane when you said you slept with Seonghwa, and I can see how all that alpha shit would make sense, but that wasn’t it. Not all of it anyways. I’ve spent so much time thinking it through and what really upset me wasn’t that you were with somebody else or even that it was him. I was so fucking mad at myself for letting us go back to being friends. Especially now that I know you wanted us too and we wrecked it. I feel like a fucking coward, and I swear to god I’ve never been a coward before. You make me feel things and do things that make no sense. It’s hard to make sense of anything when we’re together except that I like being with you.
These things are so much easier to say when you’re not here. Yunho’s better at this kind of thing, and you’re so good at it sometimes I can’t keep up.
I want to say that I’m sorry for all of it. I really didn’t do any of it right. You didn’t choose us that night but you did trust us, you trusted me and I’ve done nothing but hurt you since that weekend ended. I thought you wanted to go back to being friends, but when I saw you at the studio the day after I couldn’t do it. I thought if I talked to you I would just cross too many lines, I didn’t realize how much more I wanted from you until you left. But I thought about how much it would hurt you if I pushed it too far at work, and then I thought about how much it would hurt Yunho if you wanted me and not him. Or how much it would hurt me if it were the other way around. Or what would happen if you didn’t want us at all?
I think I should tell you that Yunho and I didn’t talk for a few weeks either, not really. I think we were all just waiting for the other person to say something, but the whole time we were hurting you. I’m so sorry for that.
I feel bad about the kiss too. I just panicked, I didn’t know what to do to make you stay. I know it wasn’t the right time, so I’m sorry for that too.
Yunho is sorry too by the way. Someday if we ever talk about this, he’ll tell you himself, but he’s my best friend and I just have to tell you that he hates himself for how he treated you. He’d be so pissed if he knew I was sending this to you, but you have to know it.
I feel like there’s so much more I could say… things that I want the chance to explain to you, things about how I felt before we ever got together, but you said we missed our chance and I have to learn how to respect that. That’s why I don’t want you to respond to this letter. I wanted to send this because I don’t think I can do this face to face right now, I tried to be honest in the studio that night and all I did was make it worse. I hope you at least read this and can understand that, and I promise I won’t write to you again.
I want you to know that Yunho and I talked, and we agreed on what to do. We won’t reach out, we won’t push you. When we come home, we’d like the chance to be friends again like we were. We want you to feel comfortable with us again and to trust us again. I know we missed our chance, but being friends with you is always going to be better than nothing.
We care a lot about you. I hope through all the noise you can still feel that.
While we’re away please be safe and be happy.
Please don’t respond. Mingi
You read it again, and again for good measure. After the fourth time you close your laptop tight and leave it far away from you. You want to tell him that you’re sorry too, that they’re not alone in making mistakes after your heat and that you all fucked it up together. A perfect mix of insecurity and biology and doubt and fear boiling over to make sure none of you opened up to each other and just said what you wanted. But you don’t say any of that.
You’ll tell them when they’re home.
For once you think the right thing to do is to listen.
You don’t respond.
a/n: reminder, i am no longer doing taglists as they became too unruly to properly maintain. please turn on post notifs, check my blog regularly, or subscribe on ao3 to get immediate updates.
this night together - chapter eleven (j.yh + s.mg)
chapter eleven: a new love song
chapter summary: time, and a well worded letter, heals all wounds. finally, it's time to let go.
warnings: nothing really, social drinking, etc.
notes: reminder that if you're reading this on or around 12.3.23 when it's posted, i'm uploading three chapters at once! if you haven't read chapter ten, go do that before you skip ahead!!
pairings: alpha!yunho x alpha!mingi x omega!reader
genre: smut, a/b/o/omegaverse, angst, fluff, romance, polyamory
word count: 5.2k
previous chapter | next chapter | AO3
The party is bright, bursting with light and color and art. You can feel Hongjoong’s presence everywhere from the moment you step through the doors and you almost feel underdressed. You selected your outfit for him, something a little bolder than you’d normally do, but something that truly suits the occasion and the honored guest. You adjust the top of your black trousers and glance down to ensure the cream white blouse that is parted open is still firmly secured with the hidden tape you painstakingly applied. You hope your lipstick is staying put.
The listening party for New World’s new mini album is in full swing, but the night is about more than just that. Their tour has ended, everyone back on Korean soil, and it will be the first time anyone will hear the album from start to finish and the first time you’ll be face to face with them again.
Three months of nothing, no contact except the letter. The letter you’ve read about a hundred times.
You texted Wooyoung, San, and Seonghwa of course, and they mentioned Yunho and Mingi occasionally, but always in the broader context of what they were doing on tour. You saw them in pictures, travel shots on Instagram or Snapchat stories of their nights out, but otherwise nothing. For three months you let it marinate, and your feelings haven’t changed in the slightest. All you have to do now is find them in this crowd and clear the air.
It’s no surprise you’re as late as you are, your stomach was in knots getting ready and leaving your apartment had you practically coming apart at the seams. The idea of talking to them is simple, but you’ve rehearsed what you want to say over and over and you can’t imagine how they’ll respond. You take a glass of sparkling wine from one of the caterers and realize there are far more people here than you thought there would be. When you pictured a listening party you expected an intimate crowd, but the gallery space KQ rented is full of faces, some you know and some you don’t. You’re pretty sure you’ve missed the album playthrough at this point, you just hope no one’s noticed your absence.
“You look so good!” A voice from behind you makes you turn, and you smile when you see Dahan in her sparkly wrap dress.
“So do you,” You give her a quick, friendly hug.
“This is your first one, right?” She asks, looking past you to find a drink tray.
“Listening party?” You clarify, “Yeah,”
“This is definitely the nicest one so far,” She all but whispers to you, “New World is pulling in that tour money now,”
“Ah,” You nod.
“Usually it’s at a nice restaurant or something, not quite so many people,” She explains, snagging a drink, “not that I’m complaining, dressing up is fun,”
“Do you see Hongjoong at all?” You crane your neck and look through some of the bodies, but you can’t really see anyone else you know closely.
“Mm,” She joins you, “no, but Yujin and some of the others are over there,”
You follow her gaze, “Perfect,”
She starts weaving through and you follow, keeping close to her and protecting your drink as you side step around and behind people.
When you make it to the little circle of BB Trippin dancers, you slot right in alongside Dahan and give everyone a smile, “Hey,”
Everyone greets you warmly, but you wonder absently where your little pocket of close friends are hiding. Yujin draws your attention though when she says, “Jaemin’s here,”
“He is?” Your eyes widen. You barely ever see him, but it does make sense that he would attend an opportunity to bump elbows with people in the industry.
“Mhm,” She nods, “I saw him talking to Yunho earlier.”
Butterflies curl in your stomach, “Yunho’s here?”
“Mhm,” She takes a sip of her drink, “somewhere,”
“You look really nice,” Minseok interrupts, stepping a little closer so you can hear him better, “I like the whole, you know,” he gestures up and down to indicate he means your outfit and you nod.
“Thanks,” You nod, “you clean up nice too,”
“Oh yeah?” He shrugs, “Thanks,”
You start to turn back to Yujin who looks like she has something more to say, but Minseok keeps going, “Have you met Hongjoong?”
“Oh,” You start.
“He’s a nice guy,” He continues, “you’d like his vibe, or at least, I think you would,”
“Actually,”
“I’m not sure if you know this or not, but it’s his voice that’s on a lot of the initial guide tracks we get,”
You do know that, but you nod and take a long sip of your drink, ice slipping down and connecting with your lip as you tip it back a little further.
“He’s a bit eccentric,” Minseok continues.
“Who’s a bit eccentric?” Seonghwa cuts in, stepping into the circle and cutting smoothly between you and Minseok, another drink for you ready in his hands.
Minseok’s lips close.
“Hi, Hwa,” You smile, “that for me?”
“Of course,” He trades your nearly empty glass for the full one and leans in to press a fast kiss on your cheek, “you look beautiful,”
“Stop,” You resist the urge to actually nudge him in front of too many people and give off the wrong idea about how close the two of you are, but you give him the best withering look you can.
He ignores you though, “Who’s eccentric?”
“Oh,” You do your best to keep the smile off your lips, “Minseok was just telling me about Hongjoong,”
“Mm,” Seonghwa glances to the side at him, “is he?”
“Artistic might be the right word,” Minseok corrects himself.
“Well, that’s true,” You nod.
“Oh,” Minseok blinks, “so you know him?”
“Well, yes, I,” You start to say but Seonghwa cuts you off.
“Speak of the devil,” He nods and when you turn you catch sight of Hongjoong heading right for you both. He’s dressed in the most decadent dark blue velvet suit you’ve ever seen, and the combination of that and his freshly dyed blue hair makes him look like more of an idol, not a producer.
“My ears were burning,” Hongjoong says wryly, and then his eyes flick over you, “I love this,”
“I thought you might,” You grin, moving forwards to greet him with a hug, “congratulations, Hongjoong, this is all beautiful,”
“Thank you so much for coming,” He gives you a squeeze, “we keep missing each other for dinner,”
“I know, I’ve been so busy lately,” You tell him, “but let’s plan something soon,”
He nods and smiles and then turns his attention to the group, “Thank you all so much for coming,” he says.
Minseok looks a little put out next to Seonghwa, and you hope you didn’t embarrass him, but he and everyone else greets Hongjoong and they loop through the congratulations on the finished album. Once pleasantries are done, he focuses his attention back on you, “I have someone I want you to meet,” he says.
“Oh?”
“Mhm,” His hand settles on your back as he turns to the group, “can I steal these two for a bit?” He nods his head towards you and Seonghwa.
He doesn’t really wait for permission, he’s just being polite, and he steers you out of the circle and starts walking you back through the crowd closer to the stage area.
“When did you get in?” Hongjoong asks Seonghwa as you walk.
“This morning,” He says, “we were supposed to land last night but our flight was so delayed leaving LA,”
“Thank you for coming anyways,” Hongjoong smiles, “I’m sure you’re exhausted,”
“It’s fine,” He shrugs it off, “we’ll get back on timezone soon, I’m sure,”
“Flight was okay otherwise?” You ask, but Seonghwa catches your eye and gives you a knowing smile.
“Mhm,” He nods, “We’re all home safe and sound, I’m sure everyone else is here somewhere,”
“Good,” Your throat feels tight, the idea that around one of these corners you’ll find Yunho and Mingi, “that’s good,”
After three months without any contact, you’re going to have to physically restrain yourself from blurting out how you feel the second you see them. The last time they saw you was awkward at best, and considering the way you left things after the fight, the quickest way to confuse them would be to tell them you want them back with no apology, no preamble. But either way the words still form on your tongue in your imagination, and you’re mid internal monologue when Hongjoong stops walking and brings you back to reality.
“y/n,” He says, gesturing to the couple across from you, “Seonghwa, I’d like you to meet Choi Jongho and his fiance Kim Eunji,”
“Oh!” You can’t help the surprised sound that leaves you, “You’re the vocalist Hongjoong has told me so much about!”
Choi Jongho smiles politely, eyes flicking to Hongjoong, but then he nods, “That’s me,”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you both,” You dip your head in quick acknowledgement.
“So, you’re y/n?” Eunji says before Jongho can finish out the polite greetings and confusion runs through you.
She’s looking at you with warmth and kindness, and it’s not often that omegas meeting each other for the first time are quite so positive and open. You’re used to a little hesitation, especially when alphas are around, everyone becoming a little territorial in mixed company, but Eunji seems unphased.
“I am,” You nod as your brain starts to catch up.
“Hongjoong mentioned you,” She explains at your confused expression, “I was hoping I’d get a chance to say hello,”
“He did?”
“Sorry, let me explain,” She smiles, “my little sister is debuting with your company soon,”
“Oh!” Your brows shoot up and you run through the girls you’ve worked with to realize the common surname, “you’re Jiwoo’s sister?”
“Yes!” She nods excitedly, “We’re very proud of her,”
“That’s so nice,” You smile, relaxed now that you understand her abrupt familiarity, “she’s a very good dancer,”
Eunji beams.
“She’ll be debuting as main dancer,” Seonghwa nods, “for good reason,”
Jongho smiles, his hand sweeping a warm line up and down his wife’s back, “Jiwoo says you and the others have been very kind during their preparations,”
“Well,” You nod, “they’re working very hard, and I’m sure debut must be scary enough, there’s no need to add extra pressure,”
“It is,” Jongho hums knowingly, and you recall Hongjoong mentioning he was from another idol group that had disbanded. You wonder idly in the back of your mind how difficult it really was for him judging by the brief expression on his face.
“Exactly,” Hongjoong offers, “I thought you’d all like to meet considering the mutual acquaintance,”
“Absolutely,” You say, “it’s been lovely,”
Eunji is about to say something more, but Seonghwa’s hand brushes your upper arm and he leans into your ear, “At the bar,”
“What?” You glance up at him and he nods past Jongho and Eunji. Your eyes follow his.
The air leaves your lungs, but you feel Seonghwa’s thumb brush a comforting line over your skin, “Go,”
“Hwa,”
“If you’ll excuse us,” Seonghwa interrupts you and gives a dazzling smile to your party, “her partners just arrived and it’s been a few months with the tour,”
You’ll have to have a word with him about his word choice later, you notice the way Hongjoong’s eyes widen, but Jongho and Eunji just nod with understanding. The bond between alphas and their omega isn’t something to be taken lightly, and they take a step back to clear your path.
You recover just enough to leave with normal pleasantries, “Thank you, sorry to run,”
“No, no, of course,” Jongho nods, “it was nice to meet you.”
“If I ever drop by the studio to see Jiwoo,” Eunji adds, “I’ll make sure to say hello,”
“That would be nice, I look forward to it,” Your body is all but screaming at you to move now.
“Well,” Seonghwa pushes you forwards, “I’m sure we’ll see each other later on in the evening,”
Hongjoong says something more but you don’t quite hear it, and suddenly you’re being propelled forwards. Seonghwa dips his head towards you ear, “Good luck, be braver than I would be,”
And then you’re alone, surrounded by bodies but alone nevertheless.
You’re not exactly prepared for how you’re going to feel when you see them again. It’s been months, and the first thought that strikes you is how much they’ve changed in such a short time. Mingi looks broader somehow, but his face looks a little thinner and more angular, like he’s lost weight from all the performances and training and travel. Yunho’s hair is a little longer, the back a shaggier against his neck, but intentionally so, and the cut of his jacket makes his shoulders look wider. You want to barrel into their chests and tug them as close to you as you can, but instead you take a steadying breath and just give yourself a second to drink them in.
You can’t stop yourself from smiling at the way they stand side by side as they wait for their drinks at the bar, and butterflies ripple through you, but despite everything you felt while they were gone there’s no fear. You just missed them, really and truly missed them.
You’re moving before you consciously think it through and you watch their eyes widen when they see you coming, but it only spurns you on faster until you’re all but crashing into their sides at the bar.
“Hey,” You’re just so happy to see them you can’t get the grin off your face, “you’re back,”
“We’re back,” Mingi nods, and you can see the hesitation in his face.
“I’m,” A million words run through your mind, but you settle on the truth, “so happy to see you,”
“You are?” Yunho’s brows go high.
“Yeah,” You step a little closer, letting the words you’ve been holding finally roll off your tongue, “this isn’t the place to talk, but yes, I’m happy to see you, I missed you both.”
Mingi exhales heavily and his lips quirk up.
Lowering your voice a little more, you hold Mingi’s gaze, “I got your letter,”
Yunho’s head twists to the side, confusion all over his face as he looks to Mingi for clarity.
“We should talk,” You want to reach out so badly, but you hold it back for now, “but I wanted you both to know I’m sorry too, and I’m really glad you’re home now,”
“Me too,” Mingi nods.
“Good,” You sigh, “that’s good,”
“Are we okay?” Mingi glances between both of you.
“Yes,” You nod, “I still think we should talk, we left things badly before, but I thought a lot about everything and I don’t want things to be uncomfortable anymore.”
In the background you hear the speakers cut off the ambient music, and someone taps on a microphone to check that it’s connected. You glance towards the stage and see someone preparing to introduce Hongjoong.
“Should we go somewhere?” Yunho asks, “Now?”
The man on stage clears his throat into the microphone.
You shake your head, “Not tonight, I want to be here for Hongjoong,”
“Of course,” He backtracks.
You reach for him this time, resting your hand on his forearm, “But maybe later this week when you’re settled we can just clear the air. I have some things I want to tell you,”
He swallows tightly, and you can feel that he’s a little nervous but he nods, “Sure,”
“I just,” You step back and look between them both, “I didn’t want you to stress about coming back to the studio,”
The relief is palpable between all three of you as Hongjoong takes the stage, and Mingi says, “For a second I was worried you weren’t going to be here,”
“No, I was just running so late,” You admit.
“You’ve been okay?” He asks.
“I am,” You nod, “you both are?”
“Good,” Mingi says.
“Tired,” Yunho shrugs, and you suppose you can see a little of that in his eyes.
“Seonghwa said your flights were delayed,”
“Something like ten hours,” He sighs.
“Are you sure you’re okay to come back tomorrow already?” You press them, “You’ll be jet lagged,”
“We’ll be fine,” Yunho smiles a little at your concern, “don’t worry,”
There’s a pause, a bubbling lull between you, but you can’t keep yourself from saying it, “I really am so glad to see you,”
“Me too,” Yunho says.
Mingi nods, but then his eyes flick up and he gestures behind you, “Someone’s looking for you,”
You check over your shoulder and see Wooyoung lingering nearby and when he catches your eyes he points to his glass and then to you, checking to see if you need another and giving you a smooth out if you need one. You shake your head and turn back to Yunho and Mingi, “I should go,”
“Okay,” Mingi says.
You think suddenly if you walk away without making a plan you’ll think of nothing else all night until you can’t sleep, “Saturday,” you blurt out, “are you free?”
“Yeah,” Yunho says and Mingi nods.
“Let’s get dinner,” You say it before you can panic and take it back, “you can tell me about tour and I can… I have things I want to tell you,”
“Just say when and where,” Mingi says, “we’re there.”
“Okay,” You sigh, “good, perfect,”
You can practically feel Wooyoung hovering at your back and you take a deep breath as you step away, but part of you wishes you could just take Yunho up on his offer to get out of here.
“y/n,” Yunho smiles a little, stopping you in your tracks, “you look happy,”
“I am happy,” You tell him honestly.
“That’s good,” He breathes.
“Saturday,” You nod, “I’ll catch you both up on Saturday,”
You see a flicker of something in Mingi’s expression, but then he smiles, “Wouldn’t miss it,”
You turn before you lose your nerve and run straight into Wooyoung carrying two full glasses of champagne.
“Everything okay?” He asks, pushing a glass into your hands, some of the bubbling liquid spilling over the sides and over your fingers.
“Good,” You assure him, tugging him away from the bar and towards the back wall where you can talk to him unobserved.
“I wasn’t sure if you needed rescuing,”
“I didn’t,” You tell him, “I was doing fine,”
“Shit,” He grimaces, “did I fuck up your moment?”
“No, no,” You shake your head, “we’re meeting on Saturday, I’m going to talk to them then,”
Something’s a little hurried in his face though, his eyes glancing past you again and again, and you can feel that he’s not exactly present.
“Woo,” You start but he locks his eyes with yours and cuts you off.
“I think I just met the love of my life,” He stammers, “I might fucking faint,”
“What?” You hush him, pressing him back into the wall behind you, “Are you serious?”
“I’m not going to faint for real,” He swats your hands away, “but I don’t know, y/n, I can’t breathe. My fucking chest is tight,”
“Holy shit,” You manage.
“I know,” He nods, “I know,”
“You’re not close to your heat are you?” You probe him, wondering if you need to make a break for San and Seonghwa.
“No,” He shakes his head, laying a cool hand on his flushed cheeks, “it’s nothing like that,”
You nod relieved, “Well, then what happened?”
“Okay,” He takes a long steadying breath, “you see that guy on stage? The one to the left of Hongjoong?”
“Choi Jongho?” Your voice spikes up and he shushes you frantically.
“No, oh my god,” He waves his hand to get your volume down, “he’s engaged, y/n, no, the other one,”
You look to the left of Jongho and take in the third man on stage. He’s the one who introduced Hongjoong, his voice low and velvety soft. He has long blonde hair that brushes his collar bones, the top half gathered into a messy but chic bun. You can tell from here he’s handsome, devastatingly so, with a cool expression and his lips parted just enough to make you wonder how he kisses.
“Oh,” You nod, “got it,”
“Exactly,” He runs a panicked hand through his own hair.
“He’s an alpha?” You surmise, “Did you catch his scent or,”
Wooyoung’s shaking his head frantically before he can finish his words, “He’s a beta,”
You can’t control the surprise in your expression, Wooyoung’s only ever really gone for alphas. It makes sense, most omegas do, considering the hindbrain of it all, but Wooyoung’s looking about as wrecked as you’ve ever seen someone.
On stage, Hongjoong gestures towards the two men on his left and you switch your focus from Wooyoung’s whining panic to the man addressing the crowd, “I have one more announcement to make tonight,” he says, “something that would not have been possible to announce without Choi Jongho. I don’t think I need to tell you what a talent he is and how lucky we are at KQ to have brought him on. We have a preview of something we’d like to share, once again, something I felt very creatively supported in by Kang Yeosang,”
“That’s him,” Wooyoung hisses next to your ear and you refocus, “Kang Yeosang,”
“Shh!” You hush him, but by the time you can hear Hongjoong again, he’s moved on to announcing that he’s going to preview Jongho’s new single, and you roll your eyes to refocus on Wooyoung, “So who’s this guy?”
“Creative director,” He explains quickly, “album art, concepts, the works.”
“Damn,” You manage.
“He’s so fucking smart, y/n, you have no idea,” He breathes.
“So you actually talked to him?”
“Talked to him?” He laughs, “I had his cock down my throat like thirty minutes ago,”
“Jesus Christ, Wooyoung, that’s too much information,” You smack his arm.
He rolls his eyes and continues, “We bumped into each other in the hall, like physically bumped into each other. I spilled my drink all down his nice white shirt,”
The shirt Yeosang is wearing is still crisp white, so you assume there’s more to this story before he even keeps going.
“I felt like an idiot,” He admits, “pulled him into the bathroom and told him I could fix it right up with a little club soda,”
“Okay,”
“He barely said anything at first,” Wooyoung continues, “I was just rinsing his shirt out while he stood there half naked looking like Michalangelo or something,”
“I don’t think Michaelangelo was very cut,” You smirk.
“The statute,” He swats you, “you know the one, don’t fuck with me,”
“Okay, fine, go on,”
“Anyway,” He sighs, “I was just talking, keeping the conversation going, fucking babbling while I washed out his shirt and then before I knew it he had me pressed up against the mirror with his tongue down my throat,”
“Wow,”
“One thing led to another,” He blushes again, “and then we just talked while I finished drying his button down,”
“Wow, again,” You breathe.
“I know,” He breathes, “I’ve never felt like this,”
“Okay,” You squeeze his hand, “but, Woo, this is a good thing,”
“I know, but I’m kind of fucking terrified,” He admits, “is this how you felt?”
“Pretty much,”
“It’s awful,” He admits.
“Tell me about it,”
The crowd around you starts clapping, the speeches are over, and the men on stage start to head down the side steps to rejoin the crowd as the single begins to play. Everyone in the room is listening attentively to the music except you and Wooyoung.
“What are you going to do?” You ask him, your voice low.
“Go home with him,” Wooyoung checks his watch and then presses his untouched glass of champagne into your hands, “I’ve got to go,”
“Whoa,” You shake your head, “are you sure that’s a good idea?”
“I’m a big boy,” He rolls his eyes again.
“Text me his number, and his address,” You insist, “and check in with me tomorrow. If you don’t, I’m calling Seonghwa and San.”
“Oh my god, please don’t do that.” He grimaces, texting you Yeosang’s contact information anyways.
“Don’t make me,” You tell him.
“Fine,”
“Have fun, please be safe,” You’d take his hand, but yours are full of champagne. You hope the genuineness of your expression gets your point across to him.
“I will,” he promises, “and I’ll call you. We’ll talk all about Saturday too, I just,”
“I get it,” You nod, “honestly, I do,”
“Thank you,” His eyes soften, “and please, don’t tell San and Seonghwa. Not yet,”
“I won’t,” You assure him, “just go, be happy,”
“You too, okay?” He smiles, “Whatever it is, you do it. You deserve it after all this,”
Your stomach warms at that, and you know he’s right, you just want to do this the right way for once. Over Wooyoung’s shoulder you see the blonde man in question smoothly cutting his way through the crowd, and you nod towards him, “Get out of here, I’ll talk to you tomorrow,”
He’s gone without another word, just a rushed smile as he weaves his way towards Yeosang, a bright and beaming grin now on his face. He’s a goner, you can see it clear as day. A brief flickering question passes through your mind of how this might affect his dynamic with Seonghwa and San, but given the way your best friend is lit up from the inside it doesn’t even matter. If you deserve to be happy like that, so does he, however it happens.
With Wooyoung gone, you take a moment to survey the room, but you can’t find your group anymore. You see people from KQ you recognize, but your normal BB Trippin group is nowhere in sight and Yunho and Mingi are no longer towering over everyone at the end of the bar. You listen to the rest of the new single, something soulful and rooted in R&B just like Hongjoong had described to you all those months ago.
As you listen to the crooning love song, your mind loops through the encounter with Yunho and Mingi, of every microexpression and you get lost in your plans for Saturday yet again. How you’ll tell them you’re sorry, how you’re ready to move on and to be honest with one another. How much you still want them, that you might love them.
You don’t know how long you’re standing there by the back wall, thoughts tumbling over what-ifs when you’re brought back to reality.
“Tough night?” A voice makes you jump, a little more champagne dipping out of your glasses as you turn to the side.
“Hey, Minseok,” You laugh a little, “you scared me,”
“Sorry,” He smiles, begging off, “I just meant the two drinks, and you know, hiding in the corner,”
“Oh,” You shake your head, “no, Wooyoung ran off and stuck me with his glass. Do you want?” You offer it to him.
“Sure,” He nods, smoothly taking the glass from your hands.
You take a quick sip from yours and clear your throat softly, “So, enjoying the party?”
He nods, “It’s nice, but honestly I was just about to get out of here and call it a night,”
“Me too,” You nod. You’d try to say goodbye to Hongjoong, but he’s been tied up all evening mingling, and without any of your friends in sight it seems as good a time as any to slip out.
“Let me walk you out,” He offers, plucking the champagne from your fingertips and placing both glasses on one of the nearby side service tables.
You probably would have finished it, and a flicker of annoyance passes through you, but you let it pass and nod, “Sure,”
You’re not far from the door, and he organizes grabbing both of your checked jackets as he makes small talk, “Are you taking the train or,”
“I’ll probably order a car,” You usually do when it’s late like this and you’ve had a few drinks despite the extra cost.
“Me too,” He nods, passing your jacket over.
You shrug it on and search for something to say, but Minseok isn’t as forthcoming and chatty as some of the other dancers, “Do you live closeby?”
“More towards Itaewon,” He zips his jacket and gestures towards the exit doors that will lead you out onto the street.
“Mm,” You nod, pushing through the doors.
“You know, we could,” Minseok starts to say, but the minute you step aside you finally see some familiar faces.
“There you are!” You smile, and your familiar group of dancers turns at your voice.
Minseok says something else, but you don’t quite catch it and you spin to apologize quickly over your shoulder before rejoining your friends.
“I thought you left,” San ushers you over to their group.
“Good timing,” Seonghwa adds, “my car’s not far, you want a ride?”
“Sure,” You nod, you’ll never turn down a less expensive rideshare.
Yunho and Mingi are talking with Jaemin at the edge of the group, but you catch Mingi’s glancing eye and give him a smile. It’s impossible to just smooth over your last real conversation with them, but you’re trying to signal in every little way that you want to move past it, that his letter meant something. You’ll lay out the rest for them as soon as you get them alone.
He smiles back, quickly catching that you’re about to leave and you can see that he wants to step away from the conversation he’s having about some missteps from the tour.
“Have you seen Wooyoung?” San asks, bringing your attention back.
“For a second,” You nod, but look away from quickly as you try to tell a vague white lie, “I think he already split,”
He hums, but then Seonghwa gently taps your back, “Car,”
“Oh, perfect,” You step with him and turn to the group, “goodnight everyone, see you in the morning!”
Dahan and San both give quick, small waves.
“Goodnight,” Mingi says, his conversation stuttering to a pause so he can address you, “see you,”
“See you tomorrow,” Yunho adds, nodding.
Your stomach feels like it might flutter right out of your body.
“I’ll have him drop you first,” Seonghwa says as he helps you into the car, jogging to the opposite side to get in himself.
As the car pulls away you feel lighter than you have in months, and seeing them again makes everything feel so much more sure. They’re real, they’re back, and they want to see you too. Everything else falls to the side, for once the path forwards is crystal clear.
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.